Romanogers - Oneshots

sparks fly (4)

17

"Nat, I really don't think I'm the person you should be asking about...this."

Steve gestured vaguely with his hand, first to her and then his room. When he agreed to help her pick out an outfit for this school dance, he really hadn't expected it to take this long. Maybe an hour, tops. But now it had been three, and the hangers previously bearing numerous dresses that shined like jewels were now disrobed, their gifts strewn in piles all over his room. Standing in front of the tall mirror in his room, Natasha aimed a look at him via reflection, hands on hips.

The skinny boy and the wiry girl were gone, in their places a redhead, no longer a girl but not yet a woman, feminine and filled out, and the blonde, no longer a boy but not yet a man, (finally) muscled and towering. They no longer dreamt of unicorns and cowboys. The world was not as kind as those sunny afternoons, when they could still mould the day, and reality was only a blemish, because it was all a game, wasn't it? Wasn't that the point?

"Don't get me wrong, any opportunity to supply my assistance is gladly received, but surely Wanda would be better equipped to help."
She sighed. "Yeah, but you're a guy."
"Finally, someone noticed."
She smirked. He was always proud of that, when he could make her smile, coax a laugh out of that pretty mouth. Not that he stared at her mouth a lot.
"Is this about Matt?" He questioned tentatively after a second, aware of the weight it carried.
Sure enough, she gave him another withering glance. "Not everything in my life revolves around Matthew Murdock."
"No, but does this?" A flying sports bra to the face acted in reply.
"You know I don't give a shit about him anymore, I just want to look nice. Now, I've got it down to these two." Natasha held up two dresses, one green the other blue, only differing in colour as far as Steve could see.
"Flip a coin. You look great in both, Nat." Sighing, he leaned back on his bed.
"I'm serious, Steve. What do you think?"
Flicking his eyes between them, he succumbs."It's you, Natasha." He hadn't meant to make a point of looking her up and down, but his eyes followed her figure anyway. "How could he resist? How could anyone?" It seemed her eyes followed his, and red rose to her cheeks in realisation as he looked away.
"It's weird to think you notice that stuff."

What she means, he knows, is it's weird he notices 'that stuff' on her. And she's right, it is weird. Knowing someone since you were both small children and suddenly you're growing and they have curves and hips and their smile is the only thing you ever want to see, is disconcerting. The problem is, there's no denying Natasha is the definition of perfect, but he's supposed to be able to accept that without feeling breathless when she so much as talks to him.

He's coming to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, Steve has wanted to kiss her again every day since they were twelve years old.

He could tell her, if he had the guts to. Tell her how his heart skips in a totally non-platonic i'm-in-love-with-you kind of way when she's around. But in truth, Steve has never had another like Natasha, who feels more a part of him than anybody else. These feelings would surely change everything, rip it all the way from foundations up. Any risk of jeopardising their current amity is not worth taking, without a doubt.

He flushes, rubs his neck. "Yeah, well...you wanted my opinion."
"True."
"Can you , uh, do me up?"
He blushes deeper but stands. Steve tries not to stare at her back, pale skin without obstruction. The curve of her spine. The slope over her shoulder to her collarbone and... This is the tension you see in movies, he thinks. But then he steps away and the spell still isn't broken, but now he doesn't have the opportunity to pull her around and kiss her if he wanted to.

Natasha is acutely aware of Steve behind her, and resists the sudden urge to lean back against him. As soon as he touches her, fingers tracing her spine, she shivers. She realises how close they are. If she wanted, she could kiss him. Does she want to?

The declination doesn't come quick enough to quell the sordid fantasy coalescing in the back of her mind, starring Steve and sparked only by his breath on her neck and his fingers on her spine. In fact, it doesn't come at all.

Yes, I am fully aware of how bad this oneshot series is. I thought I was doing something and then the idea got lost in translation and now I'm completely floundering but I gotta finish it, you know?

anyways stream folklore and vote for taylor at the AMAs x