A Bolt from the Blue

Chapter 26

The rays of sunshine entered through the glass panels and Steve cracked his eyes open. As his pupils were adjusting to the light and his dizzy mind was recalibrating with reality, he felt a warm figure in his arms, sleeping peacefully against his chest. His eyes found bright red hair under his chin.

He smiled contently to himself as the beautiful memories from the night before came back to the surface. He slowly raised his head, gentle not to wake her up, and looked down at Natasha's sleeping face.

It was the first time in over seventy years that he was seeing her in the morning and it was indisputable she was the most mesmerizing sight anyone could have upon awakening.

They had hardly slept the night before, either talking or giving way to their bodies' yearnings to meet, and yet it had seemed that no matter how hard they had tried to resist, no matter how long they had fought it off, sleep had sneakily slipped in and captured them both.

He didn't know -and let alone cared- what time it was. Nothing mattered more than this moment.

Biting his bottom lip in hesitation, eagerness took the best of him as he didn't want to lose any more second craving for her. He would take the risk of waking her up. His fingers gently grazed the bare skin of her shoulder, down to her arm. He then gently buried his head into her enticingly exposed neck and breathed in her scent. He pressed one hand against her stomach to feel the harmonious pace of her breathing.

Lying in Natasha's bed, with Natasha in his arms, Steve began to wonder if it was what happiness felt like. Happiness was such a hard concept to grasp or define. It varied from one person to another. It was often mistaken with a temporary joy for some, or considered like the absence of sorrow by others. For him, happiness was an embrace. The softest embrace with a hint of vanilla perfume (the smell of Natasha's hair this morning), the certainty that no other moment will ever equal the one he was living this morning. To Steve Rogers, happiness was waking up next to Natasha Romanoff.

"Hey," he heard her husky voice say and he felt her body shift a little.

He smiled into her neck. "Hi. I'm sorry if I woke you up."

Natasha moaned. "I honestly don't care."

He chuckled and began to plant kisses into her throat.

"It's probably time to go upstairs, isn't it?" Natasha asked.

He sighed. "Yeah," he answered, kissing her skin harder in anticipation of the upcoming, reluctant separation.

Natasha rolled around to face him. She held his face between her two hands. She paused and gazed at him intently, smiling serenely as if she was enjoying the sight of him. He realized he was holding his breath in, enthralled and mesmerized by the intensity and the beauty of her gaze. Then her smile turned into a mischievous smirk.

"I'm sure they can handle themselves without us for the next few hours," she purred. He watched closely as she bit her bottom lip seductively. A short silence ensued, during which they both seemed to ponder whether they could let this fantasy become reality.

They decided it could. They both came at each other, capturing the other's lips eagerly.

Natasha wrapped her arm around his neck and pressed all of herself against him.

Her lips tasted a flavor he knew he would never cease to be hungry for.

He broke the kiss and breathed heavily.

He stared at her intently. "I want you," he grunted huskily into her neck. He slightly frowned at the sound of his own words. "Again."

Natasha cocked an eyebrow and he looked at her apologetically. They had barely slept last night and he didn't exactly know how tired she was from their nocturnal "activities" in addition to her time-travel.