American Mouth | S. Rogers x OC

Ch. 4 - Training Room

Dorothy didn't sleep well her first night due to a new place, a new bed, and all those thoughts Layla had given her swimming in her head.

She got out of bed early, still in the double braids from the night before, and put on some workout clothes that consisted of a simple sports bra and shorts. She tied her cuff back onto her wrist to cover up her words, then left her room. She wanted to get herself acquainted with the Avenger's space and equipment.

Friday led her to the Avengers' private training room a few floors down. She expected to be alone, but when she walked inside, there was someone else.

Steve was only in these pants that hung deliciously on his hips and she just knew that under the tight shirt he wore, his top half was all tight, sweat-slicked skin. She could see his abs contract and stretch as his body followed through with his punches, even through the fabric of his top. His sleeves gripped his arms as they flexed with each hit to the bag. He was hitting it so hard that Dorothy was worried the chain was going to break off its hinges. Her lips parted as she scanned his body up and down. The strong, strong urge to touch him compelled her to stare, gaping.

Steve spotted her and smiled. "Hi, Dorothy."

To avoid looking awkward, she moved into the training room. "Hey, Steve. Whatcha doing?"

He lifted his fists, showing the wraps. "Boxing."

"Ah." She nodded, looking down. It should've been obvious.

"You wanna warm up and then spar?" he offered, "I can continue boxing while you get your blood pumpin'?"

"Sure! I'll just be over here." She pointed to a training mat across from where Steve was.

To warm up, she just did some various sets of easier exercises. Sit-ups, planks, squats, the works. She was distracted all throughout because all she could feel was a pair of eyes on her.

When she felt ready, Dorothy walked up to Steve, who was bench-pressing into the thousands. She wasn't going to get used to that anytime soon.

His biceps were permanently flexed as he lifted the bar above his face. His hands gripped it so tight, his knuckles were white and veins bulged in his wrist that led down his forearm and all the way to his upper biceps and triceps. His back was arched slightly off the bench.

Steve finished his set and put the bar back on the rack before sitting up and loosening his arms.

He ran a hand through his hair as he asked, "You ready?"

Snapping out of her trance she replied, "Yep. You?"

"Yeah."

Dorothy spun on her heel and hopped onto a raised, padded platform. She faced Steve as he followed her onto the platform. This was more than just a friendly sparring session, this was the Captain evaluating her to see what she was capable of. She had to do her best to impress him.

His head ticked to the side playfully. "Give me your best shot, Doll."

A moment of delay before she moved quickly, staring with an easily-blocked jab to the side of Steve's stomach. She went for his other side, light on her feet. She gained enough momentum to jump and swing her leg up onto Steve's shoulder, bringing her body around to knock him off balance. He fell onto the mat. So she sat on his chest with her thighs on either side of his head.

She felt a hard knock on her back, which shoved her forward so that her hands had to catch her fall on the mat above Steve's head. He took that chance to take her by the waist and roll them over. He crawled up her body, trapping her legs between his own, and when she tried to fight back with her fists, he took them in his hands and pinned them above her head. Dorothy knew she was defeated.

They looked into each other's eyes, breathing hard from the exercise they just went through. His eyes were so so blue, with just a hint of green around the pupils, which were dilated. Their faces were so close. If she lifted her head just an inch, their lips would touch, and she wanted to so much.

Dorothy's eyes followed along the contours of his perfect face. His prominent jaw was clenched, his cheekbones high. The way his pointed nose was straight, with an even bump towards the corners of his eyes. His nose led down to his lips, which only had a hint of a cupid's bow on his top lip while his bottom lip was more full. He had a crease between his eyebrows that she so badly wanted to smooth over with her thumb. He was undeniably a handsome man, too handsome for her to be his soulmate.

Alarms were going off in her head. The weight of him on top of her body was comforting, like a heavy, muscley blanket. He was so close so close too close. But she liked him being this close. Did he feel this... pull, as well? Was this the pull that came with being each others' soulmate?

All too soon Steve was lifting himself off of her, his arms flexing as he did so. He held his hand out to help lift her up. What she wanted to do was stay on the training room floor and wallow, but she couldn't. With much reluctance, she took his hand.

She bumped into him as he pulled her up with more strength than she anticipated. She stepped back.

"You put up a good fight," he complimented, kind as ever. His breathing was already steady.

"So do you. I mean, you won so obviously you put up a good fight..."

"Thanks. So, what're you doin' up this early?"

"I've never done well when sleeping in new places. SHIELD never really beat that out of me."

"I understand. I can't sleep sometimes, either."

Right. He was a soldier from the Second World War, of course he'd have trouble sleeping. He probably suffered from PTSD and had to relive those traumatic events all the time. How could she be so inconsiderate? She just kept messing up.

"How are you doing by the way? With the whole coming-out-of-the-ice thing?"

"Better than when I first woke up. I'm still getting used to some things though."

Dorothy nodded at that. He'd been through so much, it was difficult to comprehend. She wished she could help him feel more comfortable in this time somehow.

Tell him.

She bit her bottom lip. Her heart was pounding, but she told Layla that she'd tell Steve that they were soulmates.

"Steve, I have to tell you something."

His brows raised. "Okay. What is it?"

Dorothy took a deep breath to steel herself. This was it. "I–"

"Steve! I thought you were on your run?" Bucky's voice came from the training room doors, where he and Natasha stood.

Steve gave her an apologetic look before replying, "I decided to box this morning, Buck."

"Well, it's time for the debriefing of yesterday's mission," Natasha informed.

Steve turned back to Dorothy and said, "Guess we better go. We can talk later, okay?"

"Sure, yeah."

As Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and her all walked to the meeting room, a part of Dorothy felt relieved that they were interrupted. She promised herself that the next time she'd see him she'd tell him, but was she even ready for him to know? He was too good for her.

She'll tell him.

~~~~~~~