Sebastian "Bash" Lacroix (unabashed) wrote in blackpoint, @ 2014-09-17 21:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | captain steve rogers, romanoff |
Who: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanoff
When: Sunday, September 14th, 2014
Where: Nat’s apartment
What: Steve apologizes for making a bad joke by giving Natasha something ridiculous.
Rating: PG-13 - the “something ridiculous” is an adult gift but it’s not like they use it. :P
Steve gave it a full day. A full day where he didn’t bug her, poke around her place or jump to apologies that were less-than-honest. But really, with him, an apology the moment after he stuck his foot in his mouth would have been truthful - he didn’t like lying and dishonesty, and while he knew Natasha knew that about him, he still didn’t want to come off like he was pressuring her to forgive him. But he still felt like crap. That nagging feeling that he really had messed something up was there, clear as day, and he was still cringing about it 24 hours later. So he’d made a stop at a store, garnered a few strange looks and likely more than one twitter update on his purchases and found himself leaning against her doorframe, one hand behind his back while the free one knocked on her door, hoping she’d answer. Unsurprisingly, Natasha wasn’t dwelling on what had happened. At the time, her walls had come up, because that’s what they did best, and she’d dug into work instead of saying anything that might turn the situation into a situation. Steve was hardly the first person to say something dumb in the moment. Still, now that she was home, she hadn’t been in any rush to rehash the subject and had spent the evening relaxing with a book. Not that the knock on the door surprised her any. Shifting a slightly amused, slightly tired look towards the door, Nat sat her book down on the coffee table and padded barefoot over to open it. “Cap,” she greeted, maybe a little coolly, but not without the hint of a smirk. Steve was slightly surprised that she opened it, but still managed an apologetic smile as soon as he saw the small smirk on her lips. There was a lot about him that people tended to be surprised over, but one thing was true to form - he didn’t glance up and down and give her a once over. His eyes might have roamed over her face, searching for a hint of annoyance or anger, but he knew he wouldn’t find anything there that she didn’t want him to. “Natasha,” He really wasted no time launching into his apology, not wanting to push it off further. “I think you know by now that I tend to put my foot in my mouth pretty often. I let a well-meaning joke get away from me,” He glanced down at his feet with a wry smile, shrugging. “And maybe it was laced with a little bit of jealousy. Either way, I hit about every wall of stupid in that direction and still charged on.” Sincere eyes reached back up to her face. “The last thing I wanted to do was dredge up anything or make you uncomfortable. So in an effort to help keep my foot out of my mouth, I had an idea for you.” He couldn’t stop the blush from creepy up his cheeks, even if he’d willed it away with every fiber of his star spangled being. But Steve wasn’t a coward, and he sure as hell wasn’t backing down now, so holding his head up with very little shame, he pulled his hand out from behind his back, brandishing a shiny, red ball gag. Natasha’s expression was one of amused patience right up until the reveal, when her eyebrows shot upwards, suspended there for a second. She’d been preparing to tell him everything was fine - and maybe give him a little grief about the jealousy - but once again, he’d done something she’d never have expected from him. Dumb shock didn’t last, though. It burst out of her in a choked laugh, one she hadn’t heard out of herself in years. Once it settled to a quiet huff through her nose, Nat grabbed him by the arm and tugged him into the apartment. “Jesus, Rogers. Get in here before you scandalize the neighbors,” she teased. Far more easy-going in the wake of his surprising ridiculousness, she snatched the gag and paced away a few steps, before cocking an eyebrow at him over one shoulder. “You bought this. In public.” Steve huffed out a breath of relief when he was pulled into the apartment, his shy smile growing even more. He’d worried briefly that this would just make things worse, but banked on the idea that Natasha appreciated humor that wasn’t directed toward her. Especially humor that made Steve the butt of the joke. Of which, he really didn’t mind, since he could appreciate the humor in his own situation better than most people could. “Well, I thought about buying it online, but there’s shipping times and I figured if the NSA is always watching…” He trailed off, arm still raised from when she pulled the gag out of his hand. “There might be a few posts about it on Twitter later, though…” “I’d be surprised if there wasn’t,” Natasha smirked. “I think you’re going to end up wishing you’d let me be your publicist after all.” Setting the gag down on a side table, she leaned a hip against the edge and flashed a small smile at him. “I appreciate the apology, Steve, but I know you didn’t mean anything by it. That’s why I walked away instead of saying anything else.” Her gaze turned mischievous as she stared at him, then glanced back down at his gift. The blush at the door and the shy smile that followed it convinced her that he’d gone out of his comfort zone - she might have thought once that it was so far out outside the borders as to be another country, but Nat had learned he wasn’t half the boy scout every one pinned him as. “That said, I’d be happy to put that to use,” she joked, still not entirely sure what else to say that would make sure he knew they were fine. She was better at unsettling people than smoothing things over. “You’d be a better choice than Clint or Bucky, that’s for sure.” Steve murmured, agreeing with a gentle nod. He kept to his original position just inside her door, hands now shoved in his pocket just because he didn’t know what to do with them - he rarely did - and it was a better alternative than preening with his hands on his hips. He wasn’t shocked she’d suggested it, but the pink did crop back up to his cheeks and he huffed out a nervous laugh. Not apprehensive, though. There wasn’t a whole lot Steve wasn’t willing to try, even if this wasn’t something that immediately perked his interest. Still, he shifted slightly to his other foot, caught in the middle of wanting to quip a joke and not sure if he should do more than laugh it off. The jokes almost always won. “It’s a gift. If you want to keep it, I can probably think of a few people that wouldn’t mind you using it on them.” “Ah, I see…” Nat lifted her chin, giving him a cheeky look down the length of her nose. “Tease.” Smirking crookedly, she left her “gift” on the table, where its presence would hopefully keep the blush in his cheeks, and she headed into the kitchen to pour herself an ice tea. Holding the pitcher over a second empty glass, she lazily quirked an eyebrow at him. “Are you staying? Or do you need to run off and convince the American public you bought the gag as a gag?” “I think the American public will somehow make do with their speculation, no matter what I say. I’m not worried.” He probably should have been, but Steve was remarkably good at ignoring a situation when he needed to, and focusing on tasks at hand. Case in point; the way he stepped into the doorway of her kitchen to watch her move, admiring the grace and ease she had at everything she did. Leaning against the frame, a stance he took often to try and make himself appear more casual in this hulking form, Steve watched her quietly before finally speaking up. “I know it’s been pretty well established that we’re not putting a label on what… this,” he gestured briefly between the two of them. “is, and I’m fine with that. I just wanted to clarify that I don’t usually do casual that well, which tends to put a wrench in things.” Natasha didn’t respond right away, though there was a twitch at her eyebrow that suggested she was either amused or suspicious at the direction of this conversation. Instead of clarifying which, she filled him a glass and carried it over, sipping from her own as she moved. Once she felt the silence had gone on long enough to slip into ‘awkward territory’, Nat smirked over the rim of her glass and held his out to him. “I’m pretty good with a wrench. Not in the traditional sense...but still.” She leaned her hip against the counter and tilted her head at him. If this were anyone else, she’d have kept right on that line, sliding around the subject with ease until it became an issue, when she would simply walk away. But he did complicate things, just by being him. So, Nat surprised herself by jumping to blunt more quickly than she ever would have. “I’m not girlfriend material, Steve. But I’m not exactly casual either.” “Not in the traditional sense?” Steve shook his head slightly, surprised at that admission. “Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if there was anything you weren’t good at.” But then, a lot of people thought the same about him, and Steve had modestly shaken that notion off more times than he could count. He took the glass of iced tea and looked down into it, as if it was magically going to give him some insight to this whole thing. He was at a loss, for the most part, which was unusual for someone so typically self-assured. “I wasn’t pushing for that,” he finally answered, but immediately followed it up with a hasty addendum. “I mean, I think you’d - it’d - be great. It is great.” With a huff, Steve had to stop himself from shuffling his feet. “That got away from me. I wasn’t trying to imply… anything, there. Just that I already guessed you wouldn’t be interested in putting on labels. But as long as we’re on the same page there, I’m happy.” “I’m not saying I can’t fix something if I need to. I’m just saying I tend to use wrenches as blunt objects…” Nat shrugged, though the way he started staring into his drink stole most of her focus away from morbid joking. She wanted to shake him, then. Tell him to get out of his head and remember that she was the last person he should want anything serious with. But instead, she stole his glass and set both of their drinks down on the counter. “I understand, Steve,” she sighed before grabbing him by the shirt, lifting up on her toes, and planting a quick kiss on his mouth. “Don’t give yourself a headache, okay? If you decide what we’re doing isn’t enough anymore, you let me know. Until then, shut up and help me decide what movie we’re going to watch.” “I think it’s almost impossible to get a headache with the serum.” Steve quipped back, hands settling on her hips easily. Much easier than not knowing what to do with said-hands. It was only helped by the fact that Natasha had nice hips. Before he let that thought get away from him, even as he flexed his fingertips into the curve under them, he cleared his throat and glanced past her. Fixating on a spot in the room ahead of him, Steve bit down on a shameful grin. Even as he tried, there was no way of convincing his brain to stop thinking, and his body language was telling to that. “I’ll do that. The first part - the movie part… Well, picking something I’ve already seen might be a good idea because I’m not sure how good my concentration is going to be.” A quiet laugh sounded from behind Natasha’s smiling lips. “I would have suggested something else, but you and your gag are all tease,” she joked, nudging him in the gut with an elbow as she extracted herself from his grip and grabbed her glass. Walking backwards towards the living room, she beckoned him with the taunting waggle of her fingers. “But I’ll put on something especially boring and we’ll see about your concentration, Rogers.” Steve cleared his throat again and managed to keep his eyes level with her head, no drifting downward. He followed after like an obedient puppy, smart grin plastered on his face. “I didn’t say no to that earlier, I just didn’t say yes…” Trailing off with a shrug, he caught up with long strides quickly, hand reaching out to span across the small of her back. “My concentration is suspect as it is, but… yes ma’am.” |