Work Text:
Natasha is sitting on the couch typing on her computer when Sam returns home from work. He walks over and places a kiss on the crown of her head before going into the kitchen.
“How was your day?” she asks.
“It was nice. I think some of the vets are making really good progress,” he answers. “What about you? You do anything exciting.”
“Oh, I haven’t done much. I’ve just been looking through a blog by Tumblr user I-AM-THE-FALCON.”
Sam freezes and slowly walks back into the living room, meeting Natasha’s smirking gaze. “You didn’t,” he says slowly, which causes Natasha’s smirk to widen.
“Why didn’t you tell me you ran a foodie blog?”
“Get out.”
*
“Natasha.”
“Yeah?”
“Why is Barton sleeping in our bed?”
“He just returned from an OP in Europe and he needed a place to crash.”
“Oh alright. Did you remember to change the sheets? I didn’t have the time this morning after our last session.”
“. . . Oops.”
*
“What the fuck do you mean that was a cum spot—Sam told me you spilled water in the bed!”
Natasha glares at Sam, who simply shrugs and fails to hide the smile spreading across his face.
*
“Sam, why are there potato chips in the freezer?”
The man in question pauses the game on television and thinks for a moment. “I think I might have been rearranging the pantry while drunk again.”
*
“You know what to do with that big fat butt . . . Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle!”
Natasha places her hands on Sam’s hips and forces him to move side to side. Sam bites down on his bottom lip trying to prevent a laugh from escaping.
*
Natasha vaults over the couch and plops down next to Sam. “On your left,” she teases before stealing his popcorn.
Sam sighs in faux exasperation. “You’ve been hanging around Steve too much.”
*
Sam is nearly asleep on the sofa when the front door is slammed open. He jumps off the couch and watches Natasha run around the house with a troubled expression on her face. “Nat what’s wrong?”
“I accidentally stepped on Bucky’s daisies when I was breaking into Steve’s house oh man he’s going to kill me!”
*
“Natasha! Where the hell are you?”
Sam is standing with Steve while Bucky angrily searches the house looking for Natasha. He leans over to Steve and says, “Do you want to be the one to tell him that Fury sat on them last week or should I?”
Steve hums and fails to keep the grin off his face.
*
“Yeah Sam, that’s it . . . keep going—right there . . . I’m gonna . . . I’m gonna—”
A banging noise is heard from the room next door a moment later that interrupts Natasha’s bliss. “Guys I am literally still staying at your house, can you not right now?”
Natasha frowns. “Fuck off, Barton; you’re just mad because I’m getting laid.
Sam snorts and kisses the inside of Natasha’s thigh.
“And you,” Nat says, directing her attention to Sam. “Did I tell you to stop?” She presses her palms against the top of Sam’s head and pushes his head back down.
Sam grins and kisses her thigh again. “No ma’am. You did not.”