With a grin on her face, Rebecca placed a kiss on his cheek. “I thought adding a personal touch might make it…better. But I did leave something behind.” Turning, she pointed to the door’s edge that had various markers of height for her, Bucky, and Steve. It  was a little memoir of their time before, when things were a little simpler. But right now things were better. Much better. She gazed to look at her boyfriend and daughter, smiling. The only thing that could make this better was if they were married, but there was no way she would point that out to him. He didn’t need to know.

Steve turned with Sarah in his arms, who was curiously looking over his shoulder at her room-to-be. He’d forgotten all about their little height scale. Steve had loved marking up their heights, right up until Bucky and even Rebecca had started to leave him behind. He rubbed a thumb over the last notch recorded, Bucky’s, the date reading 04/09/37. So much time had passed.  “We’re gonna have some new notches on here, aren’t we?” he said, bouncing Sarah gently to get her attention, and she turned to him, blue eyes wide. 

                   “Sorry, buddy, but that is literally nothing I can’t help you with. Ask                      James. ‘m sure he’s watched enough rom-coms at this point to                      have a list of people proposing and the most romantic way to do                      it in his head.”, Connor offered when he walked to get the beer.

                  Steve nodded, giving Connor a smirk. “I’m not sure any of your suggestions                   would’ve had the sweet, romantic edge I want for Rebecca.” He didn’t doubt                   Connor could do sweet romance, in some way or another, Steve just didn’t                   want to involve his penis in his proposal to Rebecca, which a suggestion from                   Connor probably would have. 

[Text] What are you doing right now?

She bit her lip, as she tried not to give into the urge to kiss him. Something that was getting harder and harder for her to do. Why did this man have to be so kissable? 

His eyebrows shot up at the instruction, not what he’d been expecting at all. After a long second of just looking back at her, he pursed his lips and rolled over. He crossed his arms under his chin, laying flat on his stomach. 

Steve laughed. “Sure, but I gotta warn you, my singing will probably keep you awake longer.” He wasn’t terrible, but his voice wasn’t as honey-soft as his mother’s. “Movies sound good,” he offered. “Games too.” He just wasn’t sure if he was prepared to scare off his new friend with just how competitive he got while gaming. Broken lampshades had been involved one time. 

           He was never going to understand how his body seemed to wake up in the early morning whenever he wanted to sleep because he was hungover. He was awake when he heard Steve — it had to be Steve. Connor faintly remembered the last night — shuffling around in the kitchen, but he didn’t stand up or say anything, trying his hardest to go back to sleep but failing miserably. He felt sick and with every turn it was worse. He wasn’t sure if the fact that his stomach was empty and nothing left to throw up a blessing or a curse because he felt like if he could only do it once again, maybe he would feel better…

Steve didn’t exactly have much experience in dealing with hangovers. He’d sported his own a couple of times back when he could actually get drunk, (and it hadn’t taken much at all to get him swaying on his feet). He knew it wasn’t a fun feeling and sunlight could be your worst enemy. That’s why he didn’t bother pushing the curtains open just yet, though there was still a warm glow in the room. 

“That wasn’t a compromising position,” she sighs with a laugh of her own. “That was me dangling bait. Now, this position, right here, this is a compromising position.” Skin isn’t compromising. Seduction isn’t compromising. Skin, seduction—if you know how to use them, they can become weapons, ones that Natasha knows how to use very well. Intimacy, now that’s compromising.

His teeth scrape lightly over a nipple, his lips pressing a soft kiss there right after. “Is it?” he murmurs. “You trust me?” He does her. It’s a different trust to the one he has for her on the field. That came with experience, time. This came from somewhere within his chest, warm and unyielding. 

“It’s not that big a deal. My parents are dead. So what?” Rebecca’s gaze dropped to the table, sadness clearly resonating in her eyes. But she shook it away quickly. That was not a side that she enjoyed showing to anyone.

“We don’t have to make it a big deal,” he said quickly, quietly. He’d obviously struck a nerve with her, which wasn’t how he’d planned this quick coffee break to go. “Sorry I brought it up. But... if you do want to talk about it... we can.” He knew a bit about keeping things bottled up. Knew it wasn’t healthy.