Summary: Five times Steve and Natasha share a bed (plus one)

[one]

They were going undercover as a married couple in order to get into a gala the following night. It was award ceremony of some sort, and dozens of political figures and heads of major companies would be there, including the corrupt ones, so it was their job to get intel on the sale of alien weapons that was going down sometime in the next week.

Natasha hadn't wanted to bring Steve at first. It was abundantly clear that he was much more of a soldier than a spy, but Fury had insisted that since they were partners now, they had to work together. Plus, Nick had thought it would be good undercover training for Steve. So Natasha agreed, even though she hadn't really been given any other choice. But, she had to admit, Steve wasn't doing too terribly. He still wasn't a great liar. Like, at all. He still talked and acted awkwardly at times during their preparation rounds today, but he was a quick learner. He agreed at the start of this to let her take the lead, and by watching and studying her, he was doing...decently. Especially for having only been a SHIELD agent for six months.

As they were getting ready for bed that night, talking over the plan for tomorrow night, Natasha nearly laughed at the look on Steve's face as he stopped mid-sentence and stared at the single, king-sized bed in the room. They were pretending to be married, after all, so yeah, Hill had booked them a room with only one bed. Natasha had sort of forgotten about it until now, and apparently so had Steve. She was just finishing braiding her damp hair as he looked over at her, ears tinged slightly pink. It was cute, seeing Captain America blush at the prospect of sharing a bed with her, but god she hoped he didn't get that flustered tomorrow.

"I'll, um...I'll take the floor," he said, moving to grab one of the pillows off the huge bed.

Natasha shook her head and snatched it out of reach. "Don't be ridiculous, Rogers. The bed is plenty big for both of us."

He gave her a stern look, one that made lesser agents shrink, but she met his gaze stubbornly. After a moment, he exhaled sharply.

"Come on." Natasha patted the other side of the bed. "I don't bite. I'll even put a pillow between us if that'll make you feel better."

That seemed to make up his mind. His shoulders loosened and he gave a little laugh. He didn't laugh often, but it was starting to become more frequent as she slowly broke away at his shell. She couldn't blame him for being closed off sometimes, not when a little over six months ago, he'd come back into the world after seventy years of it moving on without him. Plus, she wasn't always the most open person either. Nick was encouraging her to change that. He wanted her to at least give it a genuine shot with Rogers. So, she was trying.

She smiled a little as Steve relented and crawled into the other side of the bed. For a moment, the only sound was the rustling of the covers and the creak of the mattress as they both got settled. Natasha leaned over and switched off the light, her back to Steve as she made herself comfortable. She lay there with her eyes open for a minute, adjusting to the darkness. She'd forgotten to take off the rings she was using for her cover and she watched them glint in the dim light coming in from the windows. They looked kind of nice, she decided, before quickly shoving that thought down deep. Still, rings and fake marriage aside, she was supposed to be trying, to show that she cared and wanted him as a partner.

"Goodnight, Rogers," she said quietly.

There was a pause, and for a moment she thought he'd already fallen asleep. Then, "Goodnight, Romanoff."

[two]

"Hey,"

Natasha looked up from examining her wound as Steve appeared in the doorway. She'd been ordered to rest before tomorrow, when the Helicarriers were to be launched, and they gave her one of the few rooms they had in the secret hideaway Fury had been in for the past few days when she'd thought he was dead.

She tried for a smile as Steve leaned against the door frame, but it fell flat and he could tell. She didn't know when he'd gotten so good at reading her, but she wasn't as thrown off by it as she thought she would be. He stepped into the little room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her.

"How's the shoulder?" he asked, nodding towards the white bandage as she fixed it back in place.

Natasha didn't meet his eyes. She could still hear the crack of the bullet, still feel it ripping through her shoulder, much like the wound the Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes—had given her in Odessa. But she just shrugged. "Hurts," she admitted, "but I'll survive."

She fell quiet and for a moment they just sat in the silence, amidst their own brokenness.

"Hill told me to get some rest before tomorrow," Steve said softly after a few minutes, staring down at his hands. "But I don't know how I'm going to be able to sleep. Not with...not with all that's happened."

Natasha knew what he meant. She thought of the last few days, how the entire world fell out from under their feet, collapsed around them like that bunker in New Jersey. She bit her lip when she felt her eyes burn. She was seconds from crumbling herself, but having Steve there helped. She took a breath.

"You could stay," she whispered, turning her head to look at him. She should've said more, asked him...something, anything, but she couldn't find any more words. Steve seemed to understand. He nodded, pulling off his jacket. He stood, setting it on the hard plastic chair next to the bed. Natasha noticed that he'd gotten cleaned up a little bit, the dirt on his face washed away, and that someone had given him a fresh t-shirt to change into. He kicked off his shoes, and as he turned back to the bed, Natasha scooted over and made room for him.

The mattress was a full-size at most, but Steve didn't seem to mind. Given the dark circles and the haunted look still in his eyes, he was too preoccupied with other thoughts to worry about sleeping this close to her. At this point, though, she figured they were used to it. Two years as partners and they'd slept in the same area or place dozens of times on missions or on the quinjet, they'd seen each half undressed in the locker room, seen each other bleeding and broken and at their absolute lowest points. But they hadn't actually shared a bed since that first undercover mission over a year ago. So, despite the situation, Natasha's breath caught in her throat a little. She cared about Steve, and having him this close was...different. She liked it. But for all she knew that was the exhaustion and blood loss talking.

Steve pulled the covers over them. Given his body heat, though, she didn't know if they would really need them. She laid on her right side, trying not to jostle her injured shoulder too much. Steve was also on his side, facing her, hands tucked under one half of the pillow they were sharing. Their faces were no more than inches apart, legs bumping together under the covers. Natasha couldn't help but think how, despite all that had happened to them the last couple days, the one constant by her side was Steve.

As if he could read her mind, Steve met her eyes, voice soft as he spoke. "Thank you. For being here."

Natasha smiled. "That's what friends are for, right?"

His responding smile stuck in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

[three]

The last thing Steve expected at nearly midnight was a knock at his hotel door. He and Sam were in Berlin, had been for two days now. With no clues on the original lead that had brought them here. Like it had been with the last dozen cities they'd been to. He hadn't been able to sleep, but Sam was already passed out in the other bed snoring softly. Steve probably should've woken his friend up, but he figured if someone was there to kill them, they weren't going to knock first. Still, he set aside his sketchbook and grabbed the pistol he'd taken to carrying with him and quietly made his way to the door. Taking a look through the peephole, he relaxed instantly, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans and opened the door.

"Natasha," he breathed her name, hardly able to believe that she was standing right here in front of him.

She smiled brightly, clearly pleased by his reaction. "Hey there, soldier."

He just stared at her for a moment, smiling back. Her hair was a little longer than the last time he'd seen her, though she'd curled it into soft waves. He had the sudden urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. It'd been six months since he'd started searching for Bucky, six months since he'd said goodbye to her in that graveyard, her kiss burning against his cheek as he bit down the urge to ask her to go with him. He hadn't realized just how long those months had been, just how much he'd missed her until that moment.

Steve stepped forward, pulling her into a hug that may have been bordering on too tight. But she didn't protest, even as the duffel she had slung over one shoulder got partly caught between them. Natasha tucked her head against his chest, squeezing back just as hard. They stood there in the doorway for a minute longer, just breathing each other in. For the first time in a long time, Steve felt relaxed. He and Sam worked great together, but there was something about having his partner, one his best friends in the world back by his side. Steve pulled back, heart fluttering in his chest at the soft smile she gave him. He stepped aside to let her in, shutting and locking the door behind them. Sam stirred a little as they walked back into the dimly lit hotel room, but didn't wake.

"Hey, um," Steve whispered, trailing off, looking at Sam, then back at Natasha. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the door. "I know you just got here but do you wanna go for a walk?"

Natasha glanced over at Sam's sleeping form as she set her duffle bag down next to Steve's stuff. She gave him that same gentle smile as before, making Steve's heart flip over in his chest. God, he'd missed her. "Yeah, let's go."

They walked through the city for nearly two hours, talking, catching up. He asked if she found herself. She'd smiled, shaking her head, but she seemed content. "Not completely. But I found a few things out about myself and my past. I'm starting to make peace with parts of myself that I've hated for so long, so maybe that's all I can ask for." She ran a hand through her hair. "And you? How's the search going?"

Steve shrugged. "About as well as you'd think. Most of our leads end up going cold. I don't think he wants to be found, but...he's out there. And it might take some time, but I'll bring him home."

They walked in silence for a little bit, passing bars and clubs, the nightlife of the city just picking up. Steve lost count of how many times their shoulders bumped, or their hands grazed each other when they weren't shoved in their pockets. There were a couple times Steve looked at Natasha and was blown away by how beautiful she was. She'd always been beautiful, of course, but the first time he'd really let himself think about it was in that graveyard in D.C. He didn't know what he felt for her then—still wasn't completely sure what he felt for her now—but what he knew was that when the world had fallen apart around them, she was the one person by his side, and had very quickly become the person he trusted most in the world. He didn't even realize he'd stopped walking until Natasha turned around and looked at him.

"Hey," she said, stepping back towards him, "you good?"

He shook his head, smiling in reassurance. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking."

She raised her eyebrows. "About?"

"Just..." he paused, taking a breath. An incredibly brave part of him wanted to kiss her by way of explanation. But, he shoved that down deep and gave her half a smile. "I'm glad you're here, is all."

Her lips parted, eyes bright. She took another step towards him until they were a foot apart. Reaching out, she took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. "Me too."

-:-

Sam was still asleep when they got back, so Steve scrapped the note he'd left in case Sam had woken up and found him gone. As Natasha was using the bathroom he put away his sketchbook and got ready for bed, pulling on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He was just crawling into bed when Natasha came out, wearing nothing but a tank top and underwear. His eyes wandered up and down her form for a second before he tore his eyes away in order to get settled. It's not like he hadn't seen her in so little clothing before. They'd shared a locker room before. But this felt so much more intimate. They weren't working, weren't about to head off on some dangerous mission. She'd come here on her own, because she'd wanted to see him, and they were about to share a bed. If Natasha noticed his looks or the slight hitch in his breath, she didn't say anything as she climbed into the other side of the bed. When she was laying down, Steve turned off the light, rolling onto his side so he could face her. She was already looking at him, backlit by the light filtering in from the thin curtains.

"I missed you," he whispered. This bed was bigger than the one they'd shared in D.C., when they'd both been a little broken and a lot uncertain of what the future held, but they were still close, a fact that Steve was fully aware of.

Natasha shifted towards him. "I missed you too." Her voice was impossibly soft. He thought he heard her breath catch, but it could've been him. He still couldn't believe she was here. "I'm sorry I didn't call. I was...stuck. Trying to figure out where I fit in the world with SHIELD gone, trying to figure out what I wanted."

"And did you?" he'd asked her the question earlier, but he asked her again, wondering if this time she would elaborate a little more. "Figure it out? What you wanted, that is."

She shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. Maybe. I was hoping that...by coming here...seeing you, I would figure it out."

The implications of what she was saying was strong, but Steve couldn't find the words to actually ask her about it. She was half hidden in shadow, and he wondered if that's what gave her the confidence to move even closer to him, only inches separating them. His heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to reach out to her, but didn't. He was frozen in place, unsure of how to proceed. He was a master at reading and assessing a situation and figuring out the best way to get out of it, but this, this was completely different territory. This was Natasha, and he'd missed her like hell, but he also remembered her telling him to call Sharon. He remembered her walking away from him in that cemetery.

Which is probably why it stunned him so much when she closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his. He closed his eyes, wondering briefly if this was some figment of his imagination. The touch was barely there, the kiss ending as soon as it had begun. When she pulled back her face was unchanged and Steve wondered if she had any idea the effect she had on him.

"Goodnight, Steve," she whispered. She didn't give him time to respond before she was inching backwards, turning over so her back was to him.

"Goodnight, Nat."

-:-

They didn't talk about Berlin. He'd woken the next morning and something in her eyes told him not to bring it up. Once they left the city, Natasha disappeared for another six months. She stayed in touch this time, though. He missed her, more than before. Yet, there was a part of him that was angry with her, but he still couldn't deny that his day was made whenever she called. He wanted to tell her...everything. That he missed her, that he loved the sound of her voice, that he could still feel her kiss against his lips. But he didn't say any of that. Not even when they were standing on the edge of the world together, the ground slowly crumbling away beneath their feet as they rose higher into the sky. He didn't say a damn word as she looked out over the clouds, his eyes only on her. She was in his life, by his side, and for now, that was enough.

[four]

The first time it happened was two weeks after they started leading the new Avengers team, already a month after Sokovia. Steve woke when he heard a knock at his door. He blinked a couple times, getting his bearings. He was still getting used to his room at the Avengers facility and it took him a moment to realize where he was. Glancing at his clock he saw it was nearly two in the morning. It wasn't that surprising to hear a knock at his door, though. He was the team leader, so if anybody had any problems or emergencies, they came to his door, no matter the hour of day. There was another knock, a little softer this time, like the person was changing their mind about being there.

"Coming," he called out, voice rough from sleep. He turned his lamp on and crawled out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Straightening the hem, he padded over to his door and opened it, mouth falling open a little when he saw it was Natasha standing there. She was wearing sleep shorts and a long-sleeved shirt he was pretty sure she'd stolen from him. Her eyes were shining, like she was seconds away from tears.

"Hey," he greeted softly, reaching for her. She seemed to relax a little as he laid his hand on her arm.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

He nodded, stepping aside and closing the door behind them. She just stood in the middle of his room, arms crossed over her chest.

He stepped in front of her and she tipped her head back to look at him. "Nat, what's going on?"

She shrugged, biting her lower lip, and without her having to say anything, it dawned on him that it was probably the nightmares. He knew she had them—hell, he was pretty sure there wasn't one of them that didn't have nightmares—but hers were worse than most. Steve had only seen her wake from them a couple times. He didn't know how, but when there were other people around, like on missions where they had to stay overnight together, she seemed to be able to keep her waking symptoms under wraps. But those few times where her control slipped hadn't been pleasant. He hated it, seeing her in pain like that, knowing there was nothing he could do. And now, he was pretty sure that Sokovia had triggered something in her. Or at the very least, Wanda messing with her mind before they were on the same side had brought up unwanted memories and now they were surfacing at night, too.

"It's the nightmares, isn't it?"

Steve watched her chest rise and fall as she took a breath and nodded. "Yeah. It's been bad recently. I couldn't sleep and I...I didn't know where else to go."

"You're always welcome here." He smiled a little and was relieved when she returned it. "Do you want to stay?"

A pause. Then another nod. As they climbed into his bed, slipping under the covers, Berlin crossed his mind. But it wasn't the right time to bring it up, so he quickly shoved the thought away and shut the light off. Still, he couldn't help the flutter in his stomach when she moved next to him, back against his chest as his arms automatically wrapped around her. He didn't think he'd be able to sleep, not with her this close. But before he knew it, their breathing matched and his eyes shut. It was the best sleep he'd gotten in months.

-:-

It became a habit for them, sleeping in the same bed. At first Natasha would just come to him if her nightmares were really bad. But then one night they were watching a movie in his room and before he could think about it too long, he just asked her if she wanted to stay. So now they slept in his bed more nights out of the week than not. He knew the others talked. Sam teased him constantly. But, he and Natasha both slept better, so he wasn't really complaining.

"You're staring," Sam muttered to him one night when they were all hanging out in the common area. Steve had gotten up from his spot on the couch next to Natasha to grab another round of beers for everyone, and Sam had followed. He didn't even realize he was watching Natasha, laughing brightly at something Wanda said, until Sam pointed it out.

Steve glanced down, busying himself with the bottle opener. "I'm not staring."

"Come on, man," Sam nudged his arm. "Just tell her how you feel."

It had been eight months since they'd taken on leading the new team, over a year since Berlin. Steve knew at this point that he was in love with Natasha, but he didn't know how to tell her. He'd thought about it, a lot, ran over every possible way he could bring it up, but none of them felt right. And maybe he was also a little scared. She'd kissed him, and then acted like it never happened. She cared about him, he knew that much, but he didn't know how deep those feeling went, or if she was even ready to try with him.

Pietro dashed into the kitchen, opened a cupboard and snagged another bag of chips, then speeded back over to the couches, all in a second or two. Wanda shook her head at her brother, but Natasha was laughing again, and Steve caught her gaze. She was so beautiful...he smiled a little and then averted his eyes. Sam grabbed one of the beers he'd opened and gave him a pointed look, having just witnessed the silent exchange, and like he knew exactly what Steve had been thinking before. "If you're worried about her not feeling the same way, don't be. Trust me, I see the way she looks at you when you're not looking. I mean you two are practically living in the same room together already, so just go for it."

Steve thought about the change of clothes Natasha kept in one of his drawers, the extra toothbrush she had in his bathroom. She had shampoo and conditioner in his shower, a couple books stacked on his shelf. Sam probably had a point. Being around Natasha made him happy. He thought about her all the time. He was holding back, he knew that, but the last time he'd felt this strongly for anyone, he hadn't even gotten a first date, and had spent seventy years frozen in ice instead.

"I was there in Berlin, too, you know," Sam said quietly, interrupting his thoughts. "Those few days she was there were the happiest I'd seen you the entire time we were searching for Barnes. And when she left...I know how much you missed her. Don't let her slip away again, Steve."

With that, Sam took a couple of the drinks and headed back towards the others. Steve stood there for a moment, before clearing his throat and grabbing the rest of the bottles. He joined the others, sitting back down next to Natasha after handing the rest of the beers out.

"You okay?" she asked him, eyes scanning him over real quick.

"Yeah, I'm great." He smiled at her, but she still looked unconvinced. He forced himself to relax, lowering his voice. "Really, Nat. I'm good. Nothing to worry about."

She looked at him a moment longer, then nodded, turning her attention back to Rhodey and Maria, who were telling some kind of story he could only pay half attention to. Steve took a sip of his beer. He just looked at her for a moment. Her hair was getting so long now, and it hung loose down her back. He had the urge to run his fingers through it. She looked so content, so at peace, and the moment was almost right. He could feel it, pulling at his heart, prodding him to tell her. But not just yet. He ignored the thought in his head that told him it would never be right and she would move on without him ever having said a word. Taking another sip, Steve wished, not for the first time, that he could get drunk.

-:-

I gotta put her in the water.

He could feel the cold air coming in through the broken window, could feel his stomach drop out as he angled the plane down, nothing but endless ice and water in the distance.

The plane shook around him, engines humming as he got closer and closer to the ground. His heart was pounding in his chest, his voice nearly getting stuck in his throat.

I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance.

He was going to die. He was going to die and he was afraid. His eyes seemed stuck open, watching as the nose of the plane closed the distance between it and the ice, soon to be his grave. He grabbed his compass again, closed it and tucked it into his uniform, right next to his heart.

We'll have the band play something slow. I'd hate to step on your—

More of the glass windshield shattered on impact and the plane filled with water faster than he'd thought it would, and soon he was taking his last breath as the Valkyrie sunk down, down, down. His lungs burned for air, the cold seeping into his bones. He was drowning. The daylight was fading and his eyes slipped shut—

Steve woke with a gasp, warm hands pressed against his shoulders. His next breaths came quick. He still felt like he was underwater, the cold locking his muscles and joints.

"Steve," a voice said, sounding a million miles away. The warm hands were still against his bare shoulders, nearly scalding compared to the iciness of his dream. "Steve, it's me. You're here. You're safe."

He slowly came back to himself, eyes adjusting to the dim light sneaking in through the blinds on his window. He took a deep breath, then another, until he realized that he truly wasn't drowning all over again. The hands fell away from his body and he looked over at Natasha. She was fully clothed, standing next to his bed, brows knit together in concern. He knew she could see the tears burning in his eyes. He looked away, staring at the ceiling, closing his hands into fists at his side.

It took him another moment, but then he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands down his face. She switched his lamp on and sat down on the bed next to him, shrugging out of her jacket and tossing it onto the floor next to the duffel bag she must've had with her. He remembered now that she'd been on a mission with Wanda and Pietro.

"I thought you were supposed to be in Istanbul for another two days," he said quietly, turning his head to look at her.

The corners of her mouth quirked up and she shrugged. "We finished up early. But we can save the debriefing for tomorrow. I was coming by to tell you and didn't realize you were asleep."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He could still feel the nightmare clinging to him, and he shivered.

"You don't have to apologize, Steve. I understand what it's like, you know that." She licked her lips. "Did you want to talk about it?"

"No." He exhaled, closed his eyes, then slowly reopened them. "I don't know. I'm sorry, I just...it was about the plane crash, and it's hard..."

He dropped his head, staring down at the floor. Natasha's hand reached for his, covering the hand he hadn't even realized he'd curled into a fist. Slowly, he unclenched his fingers, intertwined them with hers. And he didn't know why it was then that he decided to open up to her. Maybe it was the nightmare, maybe it was what Sam had said to him a few weeks ago, but suddenly he wasn't afraid anymore.

"What happened in Berlin?" he asked quietly, the words echoing in the otherwise silent room. He looked up as her hand slackened in his, her green eyes widening just so, lips parting. "I mean, you basically told me that you'd come there for me, and you kissed me, and then just pretended like it never happened. And then you left again. I just...I just wanna know where we stand. I mean did I do something wrong—?"

"No," she said quickly, shifting closer to him, their thighs bumping against each other. "You never did anything wrong, Steve. It was me. I...I was afraid."

He laughed a little, squeezing her hand. "Of me?"

"Kind of." She bit her lip. "I meant what I said then, about missing you," a pause, "about wanting you. But when I kissed you...I don't know why, but I thought about my parents, and it terrified me."

Steve's brows furrowed. "I don't understand."

"After D.C. I went back to Russia, to look for my parents."

"Did you find them?"

She gave a sharp nod, meeting his eyes. "Two little headstones by a chain link fence."

His shoulders sagged forward. "Nat..." he could see her eyes shining, but she didn't cry. "I'm so sorry."

She shrugged. "It's okay. I hadn't seen them in years, so I wasn't expecting much. But, it affected me more than I thought it would, I guess." She took a breath, eyes scanning over his face, flickering down to his lips then back up. "In Berlin, I don't know, it just hit me, and all of the sudden I was so scared of losing you that...I did what I always do and I shut you out. I thought it would be easier, but..."

She trailed off, staring down at their joined hands. Steve was absently running his thumb across the back of her hand, and he thought he saw her smile a little bit.

"That night," she looked up and met his eyes, and he knew she was thinking about the same thing he was, that stolen kiss in the dark, "I thought about it all the time. I'm so sorry for walking away again, Steve. I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am."

A few stray tears slipped down her cheeks and he lifted his other hand to wipe them away, fingertips lingering against her cheek another moment longer.

"It's okay. I'm not mad. I was, when you first left. I was frustrated, mostly, but not anymore," he told her gently. "I should've just told you how I felt, but I guess I was scared, too."

She smiled at him, laughed a little at the irony. "We're terrible at this."

He tilted his head to the side, gave half a shrug. "Kind of. But better late than never, right?"

"Yeah," she breathed, and he hadn't even realized how much they'd gravitated toward each other, but their faces were only a few inches apart.

"Do you want to stay?" he asked. Their noses brushed, lips a hairsbreadth apart.

Her chest rose and fell a little quicker, cheeks a tinge pinker than a moment before. "Yes."

For a moment, everything else fell away, and all that remained was the two of them, a touch away from a kiss. Natasha reached towards him slowly with her free hand. Her fingers skirted gently up his chest, tracing muscles through the tank top he was wearing. Their breaths mingled, and with his other hand, Steve reached up and cupped her cheek, finally bringing their lips together.

For the first time in months, everything made sense. The moment felt so right that he seriously wondered how it took them so long to get here. Their hands separated, but it gave him the opportunity to run his fingers through her hair, down her spine, circle around her waist and pull her close. She gasped against his mouth, breathing his name. Her hands were around his hair, sliding through his hair and tugging lightly.

It took a little maneuvering, but Steve picked her up, and turned them around before gently laying her down against his mattress, the one they'd been sharing for months already. Hovering over her, hips pressed between her legs, arms braced on either side, he pulled back for a moment just to look at her. Her eyes were bright, cheeks flushed. She was running her hands up and down his chest, playing with the hem of his tank top. He leaned down and kissed her again, softly this time.

"I don't actually know what I'm doing," he murmured against her mouth, laughing a little in embarrassment. She giggled, shaking her head a little.

She grinned and pushed on his shoulders, rolling them over until she was straddling his hips. Leaning down, lips brushing his, she said, "I'll show you,"

When she smiled at him, Steve swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

[five]

Natasha woke to the feeling of Steve tracing patterns across her back. She opened her eyes slowly, legs rubbing up against as she stretched. She was tucked against his side, his arm wrapped around her, fingers running down her spine. When she tilted her head back to look at him, Steve was smiling at her softly, nothing but adoration in his eyes.

"Hey," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her.

She smiled against his mouth, lips parting just so. She kissed him a moment longer, forcing herself not to get too carried away considering what today was. He must have noticed her mood sober a little bit, because he pulled back a little further so he could scan her face.

"You ready for today?" she asked quietly, pulling the sheets up a little bit, resting her hand against his bare chest.

Today Steve and Tony were meeting with General Ross to officially announce that they were going to be signing the Accords. Natasha could see the huge, bound-up outline sitting on the table by Steve's side of the bed. He'd read it a dozen times, at least, and after some argument and a lot of discussion with Tony, and maybe a little with her, he'd finally agreed to sign. Between that and trying to get Wanda and Pietro citizenship, it had been a crazy six weeks. Natasha was surprised they even got to sleep in a little.

Steve took a breath, eyes drifting up to the ceiling, before he drew his gaze back down to her. "I think so. You know I don't completely agree with all of the Accords. I think it gives the government too much control in things they don't always understand, but...I was asleep for seventy years and there's things I don't understand about the world still either, so...I figured I should probably listen to you and Tony."

"Wise choice," she teased. She was glad to see the corners of his mouth quirk up a little bit. "Besides, once we sign, we have a lot more control over negotiating changes. We've been running clean missions, no civilian casualties. We've only been taking Wanda and Pietro out on more low-key missions until they're approved for citizenship. We're in a good place right now, and it'll only pay off in the future if something does go wrong."

Steve had averted his eyes again, jaw twitching. He'd found her hand and was absently rubbing his thumb in circles across her skin. He was stubborn, so she knew this was hard for him, to just set aside his beliefs, but he also knew it was for the best. Natasha shifted, and reached up with her free hand, touching his jaw lightly. He turned his head to look at her, half a smile on his face.

"It's not gonna be easy," she told him. "And there's gonna be a lot of powered people out there that don't agree with the Accords. But the first step to some kind of peaceful resolution is to show them that the Avengers stand as one. Together."

Understanding the double-meaning behind her words, Steve relaxed beneath her. He nodded, breathing out a laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, we'll figure it out together." He leaned down to kiss her again, mouth pressing a little harder, a little more desperately than before.

"Easy, soldier," she mumbled against his mouth as he pulled her on top of him, her hair falling around her face. "We've got places to be soon."

She rested her forehead against his, hands braced against his chest.

He swallowed, hands resting on her hips. "Tony did offer to help me find Bucky once this whole business with the Accords is over." He exhaled nervously. "I was a little surprised, considering how upset he was when I told him a couple weeks ago what we find out in D.C., about Bucky killing his parents. But, he told me the latest project he's working on, and he seemed happy to help."

"That's because he's your friend, idiot." She kissed him lazily. "Of course he wants to help."

"Yeah, you're right."

She grinned. "Usually am."

"I'm just...worrying about nothing, I guess."

Natasha touched her finger in between his brows where a crease had formed. "What else is new?"

He laughed then, loud and genuine, his body shaking with it. Her smile was so big, and then she was laughing too and Steve wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled her so she was on her back, kissing her over and over. She ran her fingers through his hair, other hand reaching lower and lower. Just past his navel he groaned low in her mouth.

"What happened to taking it easy?" he asked, mouth moving down her jaw, trailing wet kisses down her neck.

She was breathless and he pressed his body closer. "Well, we can shower together...save some time..."

He chuckled. "I'm not sure if that's going to save time."

He gathered her into his arms anyway as she laughed, kissing him as he carried her to the bathroom and shut the door.

[plus one]

Natasha groaned when her alarm went off, fumbling blindly for her phone. She rolled, taking half the blankets with her as she reached for the nightstand and turned the sound off. With the noise gone, she exhaled slowly, trying to relax again. She was just starting to get comfortable again when she felt the bed shift next to her and gasped when Steve yanked some of the covers back to his side, exposing her bare back.

"I ever tell you you're a blanket hog?" he teased, and she could practically hear the smug little smirk on his face.

She turned over to face him, tugging on the blankets in his grasp as he just laughed. "Yeah, well, you snore," she shot back, swatting his arm, her words not nearly as stern as she'd meant them to be.

Steve looped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his side, smiling at her softly. "Morning."

"Don't you morning me," she grumbled, though she was trying hard not to smile.

He could tell that she wasn't really mad, too. He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and when he tried to pull away, she held his face in her hands and pulled him down for a proper kiss, sealing her mouth over his. Within seconds, Natasha was breathless, body warm from head to toe. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she knew then that she'd never felt more at home than in his arms.

"I love you," she murmured, tilting her head back for a moment so she could look at him.

His blue eyes were bright, the hints of a smirk forming on his lips. His hand found hers and he brushed his thumb over the ring on her finger. "I love you, too."