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it wasn’t supposed to end like this, but alas, steve didn’t have a choice. he had to explode the building; it was the only way to destroy the man-made virus created by hydra. it was going to kill millions of lives in the fraction of days if it were to be exposed to civilians. steve was glad every single one of the people that worked in this building were evil human beings—no—criminals, crooks, killers.
“well, that’s a job well done.” steve speaks aloud, allowing natasha who’s in his comms to hear his voice.
“maybe next time, wait until i’m actually out of the building?” natasha groans, blood already drying against her forehead and in her hair. “must you always be in a hurry, rogers?”
steve doesn’t respond. instead he runs back to the mess of concrete walls, dust and debris still waltzing in the air that will probably be present in a 2 mile radius. his eyes are frantic, searching for the bright red hair that he just can’t seem to get out of his mind recently — especially in this moment.
“natasha, where are you? tell me where you are, nat.” steve starts removing big pieces of drywall, panting, waiting for a teasing voice to call out for him, but theres none. nothing but heavy breathing coming from his ear piece. steve’s heart starts pumping, his veins circulating blood at a herculean pace that his ears start ringing.
he pulls pieces upon pieces of concrete, wood, and drywall in way that almost scares him. his body was aching, sore from the punches and kicks from the crooks he was shaking off his back, yet he continues and won’t stop until he sees red. literally.
“natasha, say something. where are you?” he’s breathless at this point, almost hopeless, giving up.
“on your left.” he whips his head to the left, eyes looking up, down, left, right until he spots it. red. of course, she makes a joke in this serious situation. he wants to laugh, but his heartbeat quickens at the grotesque sight of his teammate.
natasha is pressed up against a wall that somehow stayed up from the 10 bombs that were rigged in the building. her black catsuit is laved in dirt and dust, blood clinging to the crook of her shoulder and thigh which shes gripping with whatever strength she has left.
the corner of her lips shift upwards as she tries to speak, completely breathless.
steve immediately crouches in front of her, pushing away fallen pieces of hair that hug her forehead and cheeks.
“took you long enough…” he can’t help but linger on her face, staring, looking for injuries that maybe he can’t see. even in this condition she looks like she could rule the world.
“i might bleed out and die here if you keep staring, rogers.”
steve finally smiles before looking directly in her eyes. green.
red.
“let’s get you back. we need to treat your wounds immediately.”
“yeah, and a shower.” natasha wraps her free arm around steve’s neck as he picks her up. his arms feel warm underneath her body. he feels incredibly bigger under her despite being only a couple feet taller. he feels safe she decides.
“nat… nat, wake up.”
the voice felt far away. it was groggy and echoing against her skull and her chest. at first natasha thought she was dead, but she slowly blinks her eyes open. bright white lights and pain immediately shoot up her body and flood her eyesight, but she soon realizes she wasn’t at a hospital, but back at the avengers tower. her heartbeat quickens, unable to speak as her throat is coarse and dry.
“finally, jeez. i thought you died on me.”
natasha lays her eyes on steve. he’s out of his captain america suit, and is wearing a white shirt that hugged his muscles in all the right places, and sweatpants that he always wears to lounge around. she runs her eyes along her own body: there’s gauze wrapped around her right hand, and she’s still in her catsuit. it appears steve was too shy to shimmy her out of it. he was always such a gentleman.
natasha blinks at him before forcing her eyes to adjust to the bright living-room lights. she huffs a breath and tries to get up on her elbows, but was stopped.
“no, you stay there and rest…” steve pauses, and back tracks. “actually, no. here, drink water first. you must be dehydrated.”
he helps natasha sit up, gently holding natasha’s bicep and the small of her back. his hands burn a fire that natasha can feel all throughout her body, replacing the pain with shivers she fails to ignore.
steve reaches for the glass of water sitting atop an avengers coaster handmade by wanda when she and vision were doing arts and crafts. they all individually have one, unique to each avenger, with their names and a red heart written at the back.
“drink.” steve lifts the rim of the glass to natasha’s lips to which she accepts, lifting her hand to hold it herself when her fingertips brush his. the water coats her whole mouth, immediately remediating the dryness from before. she finishes the water with a big gulp which resulted in her to take a bigger gulp of air afterwards.
none of them say anything for a few seconds as natasha catches her breath. she must’ve been so dehydrated.
steve sits down on the red couch, taking away the glass from natasha’s grip. the couch dips from his weight as he scoots closer to rub circles on natasha’s back who is now breathing normally and staring at the coaster.
“is that my coaster?”
steve chuckles. “is that really what you’re thinking about right now, romanoff?”
“you have your own, so why are you using mine?” natasha shrugs, a slight smile on her face as her shoulders bounce up and down.
“must you always be so stingy? we share a team for fucks sake.”
natasha smirks, “language, cap.”
steve huffs, shaking his head. his golden locks creating a fluffy mountain on his head. natasha looks up at him with a small smile painted on her face. she stares at him for a while, but it seems like steve didn’t mind it for he’s staring more intently. there was something she can’t decipher in his eyes, but it was definitely something along the lines of “i’m glad you’re okay”.
“thank you.” natasha whispers, inadvertently leaning closer so that their foreheads are touching, their breathes mingling.
“i’m sorry.”
natasha cocks an eyebrow. “for what?”
“for dropping a whole building on you.”
natasha chuckles, but steve remains serious. his eyebrows are furrowed in concern and it sends a warm feeling down natasha’s stomach.
“it’s okay. i handled much worse.” she gives him a lopsided smile and another cock of an eyebrow. she leans back now, back hitting the plush couch. her body is still sore, and she’s pretty sure there will be a depiction of van gogh’s ‘starry night’ on her thigh in the next couple of hours.
steve is still staring at her with the same seriousness. it’s the same face he uses when he tries to scare and threaten bad guys in his mighty captain america manner.
“no, nat. it’s not okay. if anything remotely bad happened to you, it would’ve been my fault.”
natasha sighs, chest heaving. “but, i’m okay now, aren’t i? what’s there to worry about, rogers?”
“you are, but what if you didn’t find that little sliver of safety? what if you fell unconscious before you told me you were stuck? you could’ve died.” his tongue is sharp as if he was burnt with steel pan. his tone was quick and offended. he faces away from her, uneasy in the stomach imagining natasha’s limp body in his arms.
steve’s posture is slouched now, forcing his body to move away from natasha. his words were meant to express his concern, but right now, natasha felt as if he’s blaming her for surviving.
“what– are you saying i’m too good at my job? if that’s supposed to be a compliment, i suggest you say it a little differently, rogers.” she’s getting heated now, too. she settles her hands on her sides, landing on the cold couch where steve used to occupy.
her eyebrows furrow in confusion when steve gets up in front of her, aggravated.
“i can’t stand the thought of losing you, nat. let alone see you injured the way you were back there,” steve exasperates and licks his lips. natasha follows the movement. “you…you and this team are all i have ever since bucky left to who knows where.” his right arm extends outward for dramatics.
natasha’s heart softens, hands feeling sticky to reach out for his.
“steve–“
“i just wish you had just told me that you were still in there.”
“steve, i–“
steve inhales sharply, still imagining the countless situations that could have happened. it makes his whole body shake. he can’t even imagine the horrors he would live forevermore if natasha wasn’t quick enough to find that little safe haven.
“i would’ve waited for you to get out, you know?”
natasha fights her head on staying still, and stands up, “steve. shut up”.
grabbing ahold of his biceps, she leans close to his face again, a smile breaking into her face as she slides her hands up to gently cup his face. she whispers under her breath, “i know you would have waited”.
natasha tilts her head slightly upward and back down, her eyelashes casting a faint shadow on her cheeks. their bodies are pressed together unknowingly—steve holds natasha’s waist close to his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. she fit perfectly in his arms, and she doesn’t know why, but she wants it to be the real thing.
for a while they just breathed each other in. natasha still smells of smoke, but there is always a tint of something sweet just to balance out the bitterness natasha seems to always carry inside.
steve didn’t know what he wanted her to do. it wasn’t expected, but god was it needed. if it wasn’t for their lips enveloping each other’s mouths, steve probably would have kept rambling on how messed up he was.
kissing steve is as electric as natasha thought it would be. his lips fit perfectly against hers, a missing puzzle piece. the missing dna strand that finally made her whole— a human being capable of love and being loved.
steve wraps his hands around her waist as he pulls her closer, urging a small noise to come out of natasha’s throat. their bodies flush with heat against one another as steve tests the waters, pressing his tongue at the seam of her lips. natasha allows this, hands now pulling at his hair.
“can’t lose you…” steve mumbles in her lips, forcing a breathy laugh to slip from hers. natasha runs her hands behind his neck, playing with the short hair that shines so perfectly golden under artificial light. he smells so good.
“thought i lost you…” he mutters again. this time one of his hands now a little lower than the small of her back. natasha feels a little grope on her backside and decides she likes it with a little moan escaping her lips. steve nips at her bottom lip and licks it afterwards, earning another pretty noise from the redhead. her tongue works a piece of art in his mouth, sucking so prettily.
it wasn’t out of necessity, it was out of pure, raw, need. the walls around them were stripped clean. any sign of red on their ledger were too. this kiss, what felt like a new religion, was something steve wanted to practice, attend to the temple and worship the very god that stood underneath him — hands roaming the map of his entire being. pureness, innocence, his own salvation resting just beneath his palms writing ancient scriptures untranslatable to anybody who tries to make sense of it. it was electric, full of devotion, and definitely long awaited. neither one of them wanted to let this go, but being able to gasp for air is still a priority.
the whole living-room is now filled with quick breaths in and out. natasha looks up through her lashes, her lips tingling with the desperate need to take on her disciple that looks just as eager.
“do you usually always talk that much, rogers?” she’s breathless. her chest is heaving against his, as steve hanging his lips low against her jaw.
“well, must you always get a rise out of me, romanoff?”
“must you?”
the next few moments between the two can only be described as sin that cannot be unwritten; they’re burned with fire, whipped with lustrous skin on skin. each threat that is from the thrum of death can highly affect the way one feels about a person, and between steve and natasha, they beat that hum.