Chapter Text
Steve had a routine. Every morning, he’d get up before sunrise and go for a run. After he came back, he’d eat breakfast and maybe catch up on some twenty-first century learning before heading down to the Tower’s gym and squeezing in another few hours of exercise in the afternoon. Around that time the gym was usually empty, as everyone tended to do their own thing—Bruce and Stark usually holed up in the labs for majority of the day; Clint was either fletching arrows or raiding the kitchen; Thor spent time with Jane; and, well, Steve really had no idea what the hell Natasha did when she wasn’t around. That didn’t bother him, though. He liked working out alone, and he liked beating the hell out of a punching bag. The sand-filled sacks seemed to be among the few things that hadn’t really changed since his time before the ice, and the solitude and exertion helped him take his mind off of things for a while. It was like a brief break in his hectic readjustment to modern life.
With that, you could say he was a little disappointed to find Natasha and Clint sparring in the gym’s ring, directly across from where the spread of punching bags were lined up. Steve hovered at the door, positive that neither of the agents had spotted him yet as Clint was currently being pinned down by Natasha, who was sitting on his chest with her back to the entryway, and he was just about to turn around when his serum-enhanced hearing picked up traces of the spies’ winded conversation.
“You what?” Clint asked, voiced tight with Natasha’s weight bearing down on his gut. Steve moved so that the wall was blocking his frame from their view as Natasha stood and watched as Clint struggled to push himself off of the floor of the ring.
She shrugged. “It might just be out of boredom. I haven’t decided yet.”
Clint scoffed and got into a fighting stance. “Oh, yeah, like you can just decide on whether you have feelings for the Cap or not.”
Steve widened his eyes and mentally cursed as his breath hitched in his throat, praying to god that it wasn’t all that loud. Thankfully, at that same moment Natasha flipped Clint on to his back again, sending him down with a loud thud that concealed any noises that could give away Steve’s presence. He calmed his breathing, heart beating in his ears as he listened for Natasha’s response, despite the fact that every voice inside of his head was telling him that this is wrong and you should go and then, finally, Nat likes me?
“I told you, I just…” Natasha sighed as she seemingly subconsciously deflected a punch from the archer, using her other hand to push any loose strands from her ponytail away from her face. “I don’t know. It’s weird, right? And stupid. Who even has crushes nowadays? What am I, twelve?”
“It’s not stupid,” Clint said to her, dropping his arms at his sides and giving Natasha a sympathetic look—one that, were they under different circumstances, would have gotten him a sprained wrist. She was just standing there, looking half-confused and half-annoyed with whatever she was feeling for Steve—Steve who, unbeknownst to them, was listening to every bit of their conversation from only a few feet away. The soldier couldn’t see it, but she gave Clint a doubtful look. “I’m being serious. And it’s not weird, either. A little unexpected, sure, but no one’s gonna judge you for liking Rogers. I mean, it wouldn’t be anything none of us haven’t seen coming from a mile away.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s a connection between you two,” Clint explained. “Pretty much everyone but you and Cap have noticed it. It’s kind of ridiculous how unaware you guys are of all this tension you’ve got going on between the two of you.”
Clint didn’t get to continue as Natasha flipped him on to his back again, this time with much more force. Steve could barely see her hovering over him. In a slightly strangled voice, the archer continued, “You wanna know how I know? Because it’s the same connection you and I had when we first started working together, the one we still have now. Only there’s too much cynicism combined between the two of us for anything to work out romantically, and you know that. But with Rogers, he brings out something better in you, something that I’m pretty sure you don’t mind seeing.” He chuckled as Natasha seemingly gave him a death glare. “Threaten to kill me with your eyes all you want. You know I’m right.”
It was quiet for a few moments, and Steve was tempted to slip away, afraid that the intensity his heart was beating at would somehow echo in the hallway and alert the spies that he was there. He was also aware that he was blushing so hard that he was bound to start glowing red, and then he’d be caught for sure. With that, he silently prepared to leave, feeling guilty over the fact that he was also feeling ridiculously happy about everything he’d just heard. If only she knew that he felt the same way, and had been for quite a while.
But now wasn't the right time to tell her that, especially since Steve wasn't even supposed to be listening anyway.
As he made a silent exit, he could hear Natasha finally responding in a voice that wasn’t entirely convincing, “You don’t know shit, Barton.”
And then, although Steve missed it, she actually blushed.