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They’re supposed to be in hiding.
Steve’s pretty sure that swimming in the river in at night goes against the principles of being in hiding.
Yet here he is, standing on the bank of the river while he watches Natasha strip down. To nothing. Steve turns his head, averting his eyes. He’s still got some sense of being a gentleman in him, even if Natasha always makes fun of him for it.
He hears the water shift and ripple as Natasha lowers herself into the river. Steve slowly lets himself look again, shoulders tense, his gaze landing at the pale expanse of Natasha’s upper back. Her hair is short again, but it’s grown out over the past month or two, barely brushing over the top of her shoulders.
Natasha’s always been beautiful.
“C’mon, Steve,” Natasha goads, looking over her shoulder at him. “Don’t tell me you and Bucky never skinny dipped in the 40’s.”
“That was more Bucky’s thing,” Steve answers, trying to keep his eyes from dropping any lower.
Natasha’s lips curl, her smile sly and eyes sharp. “Maybe you should follow his example.”
She dives in before Steve can respond, and Steve grips his fists against his thighs.