Title Home Sweet Home
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: PG-13
Length: 968
Content Notes: N/A
Author Notes: It feels like forever since I've posted to LJ/DW. Here's to the start of a lot more productivity writing-wise!
Summary: It's one of many mornings in Steve's new house and he enjoys every moment of it.


Steve still can’t believe this is his life. The sunlight streaming through the white curtains, the smell of citrus in the air hinting at fresh laundry, and the settled feeling of home. And it is his home. Bought in his name and in the location they’d both decided on, close to Brooklyn and everything that was his former life, but wholly theirs and their new beginning. He throws back the soft covers and rolls out of bed, wiggling his toes against the sun warmed floor. He grins and stretches his arms over his head. Yeah, living in Tony’s Avengers Tower and then the compound had been good. But this was better. This was his. This was theirs.

He’s not as reluctant to leave the warmth of the high thread count sheets as he should be. Not when his wife’s nowhere to be found and he can taste the chocolate warmth of coffee in the air. He pads to the bathroom to throw on a shirt and sweatpants, admonishments about tempting the neighbors ringing in his ears, before he tumbles downstairs to see where Natasha’s tucked herself away to.

They’re moved in but between the two of them they hadn’t had much in the way of furniture. They have the essentials provided by Tony, of course. An opulent couch and matching loveseat arranged artfully in front of the large HD TV Tony had insisted they get. It was the top of the line and had all the features they could want and sat atop a deep oak entertainment center. Pepper had made sure their kitchen was equipped with all the latest appliances. He and Natasha had managed, between missions, to accumulate some end tables and lamps that littered the rest of the rooms on the first and second floor to ensure they wouldn’t be stumbling around in the dark. The rest they had decided would come when they had time to find it for themselves.

It was a start and that’s all either of them had wanted or dreamed of. And honestly, with the amount of time they were gone around the world for one thing or the other, the item that’d received the most use was the gleaming red chrome coffeepot in the kitchen. Because it wouldn’t be Tony if there wasn’t a touch of the ostentatious somewhere.

It’s also where he finds Natasha, dressed much like him in a sleep shirt and a pair of his boxers, with her hands wrapped around her favorite mug, a ridiculous black thing with red spiders and hourglasses all over it. Steve still has no idea where Clint had found something like that. He walks over and slides his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her sleep tussled hair. It still thrills him that she’ll let him see her like this, unguarded and soft, stripped of armor and masks.

“Morning,” he murmurs against her ear. She sinks back into his warmth and hums a greeting as she takes another sip of coffee.

Natasha doesn’t do public displays of affection. Neither does Steve, really, but these moments where they’re at home and able to indulge in touch and each other he cherishes more than he can say. He smoothes his hand over her stomach and nuzzles at her neck.

“You do know we aren’t on a schedule right now.”

“And yet, you’re right here behind me, soldier boy. You’re just as much an early riser as I am.”

Steve chuckles at her teasing tone. Neither of them are quite able to let go of old habits. Even if it’s supposed to be their days off. He reaches out to snag the cup of coffee she’s left out for him and shifts to lean back against the counter while keeping Natasha close against him.

“Not my fault I don’t want a second of this to slip by.” He can practically hear the eye roll as she shakes her head and raises her cup to her lips again.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re the sappiest old man on earth?”

“Repeatedly and often,” Steve says with a wide grin. He’s half way through his coffee when Natasha sets her cup down and turns in his arms.

Her green eyes look up at him with a soft fondness he only ever used to see directed at Clint when she thought no one else was looking. She eases up on tiptoe to kiss him sweet and chaste, a mere brush of lips before she tucks her head against his shoulder. She curls her arms around his neck, one hand threading through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

His heart thum-thumps in his chest and he forces himself to breath in slow. She still gets to him. He doubts that’s ever going to change no matter how many years they share together. He skims his hand up her back, over the soft cotton of her t-shirt, to wrap a curl of her red hair around his thumb.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She shakes her head and gives him a slight quirk of a smile. Steve’s learned to let her come to him in time, open up on her own terms, when she’s ready. He knows just as well when it’s time to push and this isn’t one of them. Her smile turns into a smirk and Steve’s in trouble. She rakes her nails down his back, rubbing lightly against him as he arches into her, then catches his mouth in a hard kiss.

He sets his coffee down beside him with a hard thump then wraps his arms around Natasha, pulling her firmly against him and one hand squeezing her hip tightly. If that’s what she wants he has no objections. Never let it be said that Steve Rogers ever disappoints his wife.