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T H E · R I G H T · O N E
Steve Rogers stood at the front door of his apartment, his hand wrapped around the doorknob. The door trembled under the pounding fists of the person knocking. It was late in the evening for crying out loud. He'd gotten home a couple of hours ago after a long and successful Avengers mission in New Zealand, and the last thing he’d wanted was company.
On the way home, all he could think about was the calmness and altogether silence of his Brooklyn apartment. Don't get him wrong, he loves living in the Avengers tower, but some days it was just too loud and lacking the privacy this place provided. He thought about taking a long hot shower, cooking his favorite pasta while his discovery playlist - filled with songs he must listen to, according to his teammates -plays in the background and he'd cap off the evening with painting this beautiful view he saw during the mission.
But his perfect winding down evening got interrupted just as he finished sketching the view on the canvas in his little home studio. He released an annoyed sigh and flung the door open after the hundredth knock. He was met with the least person he’d expected.
Natasha.
She hardly ever came to see him in the Avengers tower, let alone here. “Finally!” She said, throwing her hands in the air. Her brows were pulled and her lips were pressed in annoyance, but even then she was so beautiful.
His heart pounded in his chest at the sight of her.
See, Steve had feelings for the spy ever since he first laid eyes on her, which was three years ago now. Three years and he has yet to declare his love for her. He had tried. Many times, but whenever he did, he either chickened out or someone interrupted them.
Now there she stood, on his doorstep, with her hair down in loose waves and her face void of any makeup. She was wearing a black graphic t-shirt and some loose dark blue comfy pants. Steve thought she was the most stunning woman in the world.
“I was wondering if I’d have to break down your door.” She proclaimed, putting her hands on her hips.
“As if you would actually do it.” He said as she entered the apartment without his invitation.
Natasha made herself at home immediately and removed her shoes. She let herself fall on the couch, with her arms spread on the top edge of the couch. The only answer she granted him was a pointed look in his direction.
“Right.” He sighed, closing the door. Steve was happy that she was here in his home, but he knew that her presence here wasn’t because she loved hanging out with him. She was there for a reason and he might have known what that reason was.
He’d been distracted during the mission and the whole team had noticed. Tony gave him shit the way only he could all the way home.
He’d been distracted because after weeks of agonising over whether he was with Sharon for the right reasons, he decided to break up with her. She wasn’t happy about it, told him she thought things were going well but he explained that he wasn’t ready to date someone just yet between discovering this whole new century and the whole secret Avengers missions. They spoke for a while and in the end, they left things on good terms.
“So, what happened with Sharon?” She asked, not beating around the bush. Her green inquiring eyes stared at him as though she already knew everything, but she couldn’t. He had been so careful not to let himself watch her longingly.
He hadn’t told anyone about the break-up, of course she’d be the only one to have figured it out.
Steve didn’t reply right away. He walked to his kitchen instead, taking two beer bottles from the fridge and rejoining her. He still didn’t say anything as he handed her the beer bottle and sat down on the other end of the couch. He knew he was stalling, not ready to talk about the situation. “I stopped whatever we had.” He finally said and took a sip of his beer.
A huff escaped her lips. "Why would you do that?"
"It's complicated." He shrugged, looking at the dark screen of the TV.
"Well, I'm all ears." She gave him a sweet smile and brought her beer to her lips. Natasha took the time to watch him, truly watch him. His eyes were set on the TV and hadn’t once looked at her since she walked in, not even when he handed her the beer bottle. His index was rapidly taping against the bottle. He was nervous, she realised.
Natasha waited for Steve to talk, to say anything.
Steve didn’t know if he could tell her why he broke up with Sharon without confessing his feelings for her, so he remained silent and hoped she’d drop the subject. But she didn’t. “Didn’t you want to date her?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“I don’t understand, Steve. Why did you break up with her?” She probed. “I thought you liked her.”
Steve sighed and no matter what questions she asked, he kept avoiding eye contact. He felt his annoyance rise at all her questions. Why couldn’t she just let it go?
“I did like her. I do like her. It’s probably silly, but I just don’t want to date–”
“You don’t want to date?” She interrupted, tilting her head and turning her body towards him.
"Sort of." He took a sip of his beer. "It's not that I don't want to date, I do. It’s just…"
"Just what?" Natasha asked, unrelenting. She was eager to know why he would do such a thing when he was so happy to date her in the first place. He kept talking about Sharon so much it annoyed her.
Steve groaned softly. She really wasn’t going to let it go. "It's just... What if I'm not ready?" He finally said. What was the point in avoiding the conversation?
"Not ready for what?" She asked. "To date?"
"Not ready for… everything." He told her and his eyes at last met hers. If he were to spill his guts and tell her about his insecurities, then he was going to own up to it. “To take care of myself, to truly accept I’m never going to go back, to have a girlfriend who’s the niece of the woman I thought I fell in love with. It’s too much. What if I’m not ready for love and everything that comes with it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know,” he shrugged uncomfortably. “Everything that people in a relationship do. Intimately.”
Natasha stared at him for a bit. He hadn’t understood her question. She wasn’t asking about everything that comes with love, she’d been asking about Peggy. A light flush appeared on his cheeks and she couldn’t help but tease him. “Intimately, Captain? Whatever do you mean?”
Steve scratched his head and let out an awkward chuckle. “You know what I’m talking about, Nat.” He said and her smirk grew. “I don’t need to spell it out.”
She scooted closer to him almost unconsciously. “Don’t you?”
“Fine. Before Sharon, I’ve never had a girlfriend.” He confessed. “With Peggy, we never really dated. We just really liked each other and we never got to that first date. With Sharon, we did go on dates and we’d sometimes hang out but it never really led anywhere…”
“I see.” Natasha nodded and took a sip of her beer.
Stever was surprised she somehow understood what he meant, so he figured a joke would defuse the awkwardness he felt. “I must be the oldest person to have never gone to first base.”
But the joke didn’t land the way he thought it would. “Wait, did you say first base?”
Oh, so she hadn’t figured that out. Damnit.
"You've never kissed anyone?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide and full of disbelief. “But you dated Sharon for three months! Surely you would have… it doesn’t make sense. I recall Sam and Bucky telling us you guys kissed.”
“She kissed my cheek and they made a big deal out of that. I never kissed anyone. Not even Peggy.”
“I can’t believe no one ever thought about kissing you. I know I… Well, yes you must be the oldest person who’s never had their first kiss. Although, there might be somebody on Asgard or somewhere. We’ll ask Thor!” Natasha spoke so quickly she barely took a breath. Almost like she wants to keep this conversation as light as possible.
Steve shook his head. God, she must think he was a pathetic idiot. His crush - Sam taught him the term - knowing he’s never kissed anyone, let alone done anything else surely ensures that they will never be more than friends.
Embarrassment blooms in his chest and travels throughout his body. “Let’s talk about something else,” he begs. “I’m making a fool of myself.”
Natasha reached out and took one of his hands. The sudden physical contact had him locking his eyes on hers as her soft fingers wrapped around his. Her teasing smile was gone and her expression had gotten so serious. “Look, I’m sorry for teasing you. I didn’t want to make you feel bad or embarrassed. There is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, Steve. You’re a good person, you’re everything anyone could ask for and I’m pretty sure most people in the world would love to be Captain America’s first kiss.”
"Most people in the world?" He asked, refusing to believe her. "Including you?"
Natasha blinked at the question, taken aback. "No."
Steve’s face fell at the sudden answer. He really had no chance to be with her and it was pathetic how he kept thinking he might. He nodded and looked away. “Of course.”
“Steve,” She said softly, trying to get him to look at her. “I wouldn’t want to kiss Captain America, I would want to kiss Steve Rogers.”
His head snapped towards her in an instant. “What?”
A soft, involuntary blush crept up her cheeks as she said. “You’re both of them, but people seem to forget who you are beneath the mask. I know it can be infuriating but–”
“Would you act on it?” He interrupted, his tone dead serious. He set his half-drunk beer bottle on the coffee table and grabbed both of her hands. “Would you act on what you just said and kiss me?”
"What?"
Steve had never seen Natasha so bewildered and unsettled, and he thought perhaps that wasn’t a good sign. Little did he know Natasha shared his feelings. She couldn’t believe it. The man she spent months convincing herself she wasn’t in love with asked her to kiss him. Had the situation been any different she wouldn’t have wasted a second and taken this opportunity for what it was and kissed him.
She desperately wanted to kiss him like there would be no consequences, like it wouldn’t complicate everything. Like she wasn’t so impure and broken while he was so pure and so good.
“Steve…”
“I know, I know. We work together. I’m just your partner and it’s not right of me to ask you such a thing, but I’m not sorry for wanting to kiss you.” He said, throwing it all to hell. He couldn’t back out now. “I’m never going to tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”
"No, it’s not that. Steve... I- I can't do that." She shook her head, delicately freeing her hands from his hold and standing up. She was about to walk away when he grabbed her arm.
Steve looked up at her. “Why not?”
Natasha sighed, pausing for a moment before looking back at him. "Let me tell you something," She said. "I'm not the right person. I can’t be.”
“Why not?” He repeated.
“Because a first kiss can’t be cheated or taken for granted. It’s supposed to be good and feel really, really nice. But it can’t be with just anyone. You want it to mean something. You want it to be with someone who makes your soul sing, your heart soar, someone who no matter what you do, you can’t forget. Someone you can’t shake off your system. Someone who’s going to make you feel like you never want to come up for air. Because it can’t be tainted, Steve. Especially by me.” She let out a sad chuckle. “Trust me, you don’t want me to be your first kiss. But you’ll find someone, one day, and she’ll be exactly what you’re waiting for. She’ll be the right one. Because when it’s the right one, the kiss is so perfect and it means everything.”
Steve took in everything she said and found some truth to it. He did deserve someone who made his soul sing. It’s part of the reason he broke up with Sharon. She never made him feel like she was the right one. Natasha, however…
“I already found the right one.” He said, standing up.
Natasha nodded, turning away from him. “And you broke up with her.”
“Natasha.” He made her turn to face him and he cupped her cheeks gently. Her eyes were filled with so much emotion he never wanted to look away. She was allowing herself to be vulnerable with him and he wasn’t going to take that for granted. “I’m not talking about her, I’m talking about you.”
“But…”
Natasha never got to finish her protest as he pulled her face to his and softly pressed his lips on hers. Just a brush of their lips was enough for him to know she was right. He never wanted to come up for air.
The kiss was gentle at first as he waited to see if she would respond or push him away, but when she let herself melt into the kiss and returned it, he kissed her like he always dreamed to.
Natasha tilted her head slightly, silently guiding him to an angle that left her putty in his arms. She shivered when he buried one of his hands in her hair, gently grasping the back of her head as he pulled himself closer to her.
A content sigh left Steve’s lips at the taste of her lips. It was something of a mix between the beer she’d been drinking and a flavour that was indistinguishably all her, he was sure of it. He couldn’t stop his lips from kissing hers, enveloping them, pressing against them in the tempo she set. He’d never dared to dream he would actually kiss her one day, let alone that she would be wanting it and kissing him back, yet there they were. Nothing could’ve prepared him for that, for the feeling of her lips and body pressed against his, for the way she’d melted against him, for the way she held on desperately to him.
He adored her so much.
After what felt like hours but were only minutes, Steve pulled back with the need to breathe. He couldn’t help but lightly peck her lips one last time before he dared open his eyes and peered down at her. Natasha’s lips were parted, her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and her cheeks were flushed. She never looked so beautiful. When her eyes finally opened, her emerald green eyes locked with his baby blue eyes almost instantaneously. A small, content smile pulled at her lips.
It was the perfect moment for Steve to confess his feelings. His one perfect opportunity. Just because he kissed the girl doesn’t mean that he got her.
“You are the right one, Natasha. You’ve always been. I just couldn’t let myself admit it before, but every time Sharon tried to kiss me… i couldn’t get over the fact that she wasn’t the right one. The one I've been wanting to kiss since I first laid eyes on you.”
Natasha was shaking her head defeatedly, refusing to believe what he was saying was true. “I was not worthy of your first kiss, Steve. I’m not worthy of you."
"But you are, Nat." He caressed her soft cheek. "You are the right one for me. I just know it. You are worthy of everything. My secrets. My first kiss. My love."
Natasha’s head snapped up to his, her eyes wide, as the words registered. She stumbled back, breaking from his embrace. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t have heard him right. “Y-your… love?”
With the way she’d responded to his kiss, he’d thought her reply to him half-telling her he loved her would be positive. Clearly, he’d been wrong. Steve had much to learn, it seemed.
Natasha stood frozen a few steps back. When he took a step forward, she took a step backward and one step closer to the exit. He needed to tell her everything. “Yes, love. I love you, Natasha Romanoff. I think I fell in love with you the moment I first laid eyes on you, and after that, I fell a little bit more every time I’d see you. Hell, I’m completely head over heels about you. That kiss just seared that.”
Tears filled her eyes as she frowned at him. “How can that be? How can you love me? After everything I’ve done… I’m a monster.”
“But you’re not,” Steve shook his head and took another step towards her. “I know you’re not a monster the same way I know you’re a good person. I feel it in my soul. I see it every time we’re out on the field, in every interaction you’ve had with people on the streets, and in every interaction I’ve had with little girls asking me where you were. Have you done some things you’re not proud of? Yes. Everybody has.” She scoffed at that but he kept going. “But you’ve also never had a choice. You did those things because they told you to, not because you wanted to. They conditioned you to be that way. Natasha, you need to understand that you did what you needed in order to survive.”
The tears escaped Natasha’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks as Steve talked. When he approached her this time, she didn’t step back. She even let him take her face into his hands. “And when the time came, you did the right thing. You left your past behind and decided to use your skills for good. Would a monster do that?”
“Maybe not, but a good person wouldn’t. I have so much to atone for, Steve. I don’t deserve to be loved and happy after all the people I… I killed.”
“You’ve paid your debts time and over in the last eight years. You’ve saved so many lives and prevented all sorts of chaos from happening. You make the world a better place, Nat. That’s part of the reason why I love you. You’re a good woman.”
“Steve…”
“I love you, Natasha Romanoff.”
An involuntarily sob left her lips, and Steve leaned in for a quick kiss. “Come on, I need to show you something.”
All the while they were talking, their eyes never broke contact. She saw the truth in his eyes but she was still reluctant to accept it, let alone reciprocate. He recognized her struggle and understood he needed to prove to her how he felt.
Steve took her hand, gave her a soft smile and he started walking them towards the back of the apartment. Natasha was confused as to why he was bringing her to his bedroom, but the confusion only deepened when he walked past the first door, then past the bathroom and straight to the last door down the corridor.
He was taking her into his… spare bedroom? Natasha has never been in there before. Steve stopped before the door, a shy smile on his lips as he turned to look back at her.
Natasha looked up at him with a frown, and when she was about to ask why he brought her here, Steve said. “I’ve never shown anyone this.”
“Shown what?”
The only reply she got was Steve turning around and opening the door. The first thing she noticed was that he’d turned the room into his own little studio. Countless canvas, both blank and colored, were scattered on the floor and placed along the walls. In the middle of the room stood two easels and in between those two easels there was a massive wooden table with numerous supplies; brushes, paint cans, sponges, water bowls, etc.
One of the easels was facing away from them so she couldn’t tell what was on the canvas. Next, her eyes zeroed in on the canvas that was visible and… a gasp left her lips. She unconsciously took a few steps forward, unable to keep her eyes off the canvas. Surely, her eyes were deceiving her.
The canvas wasn’t painted, but something was sketched on it – no, scratch that. Not something. Someone.
Not just anyone, too. It was her. She was the sketch.
The soft lines of her side profile, her hair hanging loose in the wind, her eyes crinkling with laughter, the big smile that she rarely gave away. Not only had he managed to represent such intimate details, but he also sketched the overview of the lake from their latest mission.
Natasha remembered that exact moment. They’d just finished the mission and took a minute to take in the view. She’d commented on how peaceful and calm it looked, and Steve had agreed. Then Clint told a joke about his wife that made her laugh.
“You looked so beautiful there,” Steve said, standing right behind her. “I couldn’t tear my eyes off of you. Even afterwards… All I wanted was to go home and just lay down the image. Just like those other times.”
Natasha froze. “Other times?”
“Take a closer look.”
Natasha frowned, casting a quick glance at him over her shoulder. She did as he said and took another look around the room, specifically at the canvas on the floor. A soft sound that could only be referred to as a sob left her lips as her eyes landed on different portraits of her. In every one of them, she was either smiling, laughing or looking serene. He’d gotten every detail right, from the shade and aspect of her hair that occasionally changed, to the color of her eyes. Every speck, every mole, the faint scar on her forehead. It was all there.
He’d captured everything.
For a long time, too.
On the far left, she recognized the short bob she sported the first time they met on the helicarrier when the Avengers had barely been put together. Then, the long blond wig she wore for the first undercover mission they’d done together. Nearly all the different looks she’d picked these last two years were immortalized on the canvas.
Her heart beat faster. “This is almost stalker status, Rogers. Feels like I should call the cops on you.”
“Better call Shield, I’m not backing down this easily.” Steve chuckled softly, but this was not the time for jokes. He was dead set on getting the girl and he wouldn’t stop until he had her. “I meant it when I said I loved you, Natasha. You’ve made my heart soar and my soul sing for the past two years. If I have to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you and that you do deserve to be loved and to be happy, then I will gladly do so.”
Steve wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled her to him, his chest to her back. “I love you, Natasha.” He murmured into her ear.
Natasha closed her eyes, shivering at his proximity. Maybe he was right. Maybe getting to live her life after everything she’d been through wasn’t a bad thing. She’d need to work on accepting her past for what it was, for sure, but in the time being she could let herself admit her feelings.
“You’re not the only one, Steve. I didn’t fall straight away, but after getting to know who you were and spending so much time with you… I can't pinpoint exactly when I fell, but I did.” She turned around in his arms so she could look into his eyes when she said them for the first time. “I love you, too, Steve.”
A stupid wide grin pulled at his lips. “You do, Romanoff?”
“Just kiss me, Rogers.” She retorted, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling herself up to slam her lips on his.
Steve kissed her back, gladly.
Nothing else mattered to them at this moment, they had each other. They’d both found the right one.