Work Text:
We can be whatever we want
The dim light of the rising sun floats through the cracks of the shutters early in the morning and Steve blinks against it. Waking up slowly is still a new sensation to him - as is waking up next to another person. It’s not uncomfortable, and he really could get used to this. He listens to the calm, even heartbeat coming from the smaller body next to him. Natasha has her back turned, cuddled up under the blankets and she’s slowly waking up.
Then, Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. There is a very sudden and ice cold touch on his bare back, and it takes him a second to realize that Natasha is very much responsible for it. She put her freezing feet right on his lower back and hums happily as she wiggles closer, half asleep but clearly aware of what she’s doing.
Steve still curses out loud and then half heartedly complains,
“Urgh, your feet are cold.”
It gets met with a low chuckle from Nat.
“Yup, and you’re warm.” She’s completely unconcerned and even shoves her feet further up the back of his shirt in an attempt to get more warmth. He’s expected it by now, and despite himself, smiles lopsidedly.
“So you want to try and freeze me again?”
“No, then I’d have to find another human hot water bottle to keep me company. Too much effort.”
Natasha isn’t even trying to hide the smile creeping into her voice and then she turns around to wrap her arms around his middle and pushes her icy toes in between his legs instead - but he’s prepared this time. Steve happily pulls her closer, one arm firmly wrapped around her and messing up the back of her bright red hair, something she usually wouldn’t let anyone get away with.
They start the day lazy and comfortable, rolling around in bed. Then they hit the sparring mats together.
Neither of them shows the other any mercy, and about an hour later, they’re drenched in sweat and sporting brand new bruises. They share a shower where they get to more intimate and even more entertaining things than that and Steve can’t help but notice that apparently to them, beating the crap out of each other in the gym seems to count as foreplay these days. He also finds that he doesn’t mind that at all and doesn’t question what that says about either of them.
It’s much easier to just live in the moment and enjoy this - whatever it is - as long as it’ll last.
*+~
Steve has made himself comfortable in his own little corner down in the main lab.
He’s got a whole art studio upstairs in his apartment, because Tony is both over the top in anything and everything he does and very generous to the people around him. The room is large, full of light and equipped with giant windows and just about anything an artist could ever need. Just thinking about how expensive all of it must have been makes Steve's head spin, but he loves the studio and uses it frequently. The only thing it lacks is company though, so he’s often hanging out down in the lab, because both Tony and Bruce spend a lot of time there and the others come by frequently.
Today, Steve is working on a large painting of a nightly scenery, the New York Skyline in blues, purples and small yellow lights. It’s beautiful, and he loves that he can get lost in all the little details.
But it doesn't help that he keeps thinking about Natasha and whatever it is they have. They never put a label on it, and while there is a lot of trust and they’re comfortable around each other, he can’t help but think that it’s probably casual unless they agree to specify it otherwise. Which is a problem - he’s not sure how to bring this up to her. Just in case she doesn’t want something committed, which is entirely possible, with the lives they have. Romantic relationships don’t necessarily work out in a case like this, and it’s just easier to seek out the warmth and intimacy of another person at night just to be able to hold onto something without hoping for or expecting anything else from it.
Then again, romantic relationships are never guaranteed to work out. Steve feels out of his depth in this.
Blindly, he reaches for his coffee mug to drink a few sips. He makes a face at the aftertaste and loads up his brush with more paint while he’s listening with half an ear as Tony pokes Clint with his screwdriver, because he’s sitting with his ass on Tony’s desk while he’s fletching arrows. They bricker and complain like an old married couple. Clint pokes Tony in the armpit with the back of the arrow he's currently holding and the inventor complains endlessly as he throws a balled up, stained paper towel at his head in response. Because they're mature adults like that.
The two of them are a oddly perfect combination, and Steve (amongst other people) spent the longest time wondering if they would end up throwing hands or proposing marriage to each other by the end of the day - it is a pretty even tie most of the time.
There are backup protocols in place just in case they team up and go rogue together. That fact alone should be terrifying because Tony and Clint left to their own devices mean chaos and fiery destruction on a good day and it still baffles everyone how these two managed to actually start a healthy and loving relationship with each other. It’s hard to believe some days, especially when another screwdriver gets chucked through the air as they bricker on.
Steve doesn’t react to it, taking another sip of coffee - it makes him cringe again.
"Coffee tastes odd today." he muses, concentrating on another small and detailed part of his painting. It takes his mind off of things. Things like his growing not-so-casual-anymore feelings for Natasha which is really not something he wants to think about right now, hence why he's hanging out down here.
"Excuse you, my coffee is fucking great." Hawkeye grouches good naturedly from his spot on the desk, putting a feather on the shaft of his arrow in place without looking up.
Steve just shrugs, keeps drinking. It just gets worse and worse as time goes on and he says as much.
Tony turns, one eyebrow raised at him and then he bursts out laughing.
"Steve you giant baffoon, stop drinking the paint water."
"Wait, what?! “ he looks down into his mug. The coffee now looks suspiciously purple while the mug with the water and his paint brushes looks much, much cleaner. He sighs heavily.
"Goddammit."
"You have a purple mustache." Clint supplies helpfully and Steve runs a hand down his face.
"Great, that's just what I wanted to wear today."
"Impeccable taste as always."
Steve furiously wipes at his face with the corner of his shirt. But there is no pretense left at this point, anyway.
“Seriously tho, what’s up with you today? You’re not usually that much of a dork.”
“Thanks very much.” He quips back and then stops for a moment. After a beat of silence, he actually starts talking about the issue on his mind - Clint listens as he starts carving wood for another arrow, and nods along to what Steve is telling him. He’s Natashas best friend after all, so it’s not like he wouldn’t know. Everyone knows, if he’s honest. But he still keeps rambling on.
“Go talk to her. It’ll be fine.” is what Clint finally answers and yeah, if only it was that easy, Steve thinks. Or says out loud, because his mouth keeps lamenting without his permission, which is great.
“Talk to her.” Is all that Clint says, and he repeats himself three or four more times, interrupting Steve’s increasingly flustered rambling every single time. After that, Tony chimes in.
“Hey Steve, I have an idea.”
“Yes?”
Tony looks up with a flat look. “Go talk to her.”
“Why am I even talking to you?”
“We’re charming and sparkling company.”
“Nah, that can’t be it.”
“Seriously, go talk to her. This is between her and you, we can’t solve shit.”
Steve is annoyed because they’re right. But then, Tony looks down on whatever the hell he’s working on and says,
“Oh. Oops.”
That sends Clint scrambling off of the table, because “Oh. Oops.” is the very last thing you want to hear Tony Stark say in the labs. Ever.
Clint is grabbing Tony to pull him with him as he puts as much distance as possible between them and the table and Steve launches forward to put himself in between his friends and the small-ish explosion that occurs seconds later.
The three of them remain mostly unharmed, a bit of scorched hair and damaged pride to be pulled by the scruff like a naughty kitten aside.
“For fuck’s sake.”
Once again, Steve sighs heavily. He does that a lot around here.
“Steve?”
“Yes.”
“Talk to her.”
He glares, because once again, he’s annoyed that they’re right about this.
Goddamnit.
*+~
“Stop thinking so hard.” Natasha complains at night. She’s wrapped around him, comfortable and content, running one hand over his shoulder. If Steve had been under the impression it’s gone unnoticed, well, he’s dead wrong about that.
He’s about to say something stupid like “I’m not” or “I have no idea what you’re talking about” but this is Natasha, and she always notices. So the words that are actually coming out of his mouth are
“What are we?” he stops for a second before he continues. “I’m sorry, it’s just, we never really discussed any specifics and, well…” Steve can feel his face heating up. Way to go, Rogers.
Natasha hums in response, pushing herself away from him a little bit. Not much, just enough so they can look each other in the eye. She also keeps her hand on his arm when she answers, rubbing small circles with her thumb.
“We can be whatever we want. If you’d prefer to keep this casual, that’s okay with me. But if you’d like this to be more… Because I’d like that.”
She’s open with him, not hiding, not a single mask or distraction in place. Her green eyes are no longer sleepy, but they’re sparkling and beautiful and Steve could get lost in them. Her answer takes him by surprise, and so does her small smile at his facial expression that obviously gives him away. But he smiles back, and simply replies,
“Yes, I would like that very much.” Then, he asks, “Is it okay when I kiss you?” because while they’ve done much more than that before, it feels like this would still make it very much different.
Instead of answering, Natasha crosses the distance herself.
They hold onto each other, almost melting into each other. They stop kissing to catch some breath, and Steve gently tucks a lose strand of hair behind Natashas ear, keeping his hand there to slowly stroke her red curls. Both of them are probably smiling a sappy smile that no one else can see and when they finally fall asleep that night, they do so with a silent happiness about them.
In the morning, Steve wakes up to icy feet on his back once again. This time tho, he thinks he might as well get used to that, too, although it doesn’t stop him from complaining. It doesn’t stop Natasha from laughing and snuggling closer, either, so it's all good.
*+~
Prompt No. 58 – "Urgh. Your feet are cold" – "Yup, and you're warm."