Steve Rogers One Shots (Steve Rogers x Reader)

The Arrangement - Part 2

"No, that's okay. I don't want to interrupt your usual flow. I'm not here to cramp your style. What are you still doing up, anyway?"

"Sketching," he says, nodding to the sketchpad on his desk.

I smile bigger than I mean to. "Can I see?"

He suddenly looks bashful. "Sure, yeah." He reaches for it and hands it to me.

The page is splashed with funny little cartoon characters that are really well done. Some are people, some are animals... they're exaggerated and quite amusing. "Steve, these are amazing."

He turns away a bit, "They're just doodles really."

"Don't discredit yourself, they're great." I grin and hand him the sketchpad back. "It won't bother me if you keep working," I say. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" I ask as I look at his bed.

"Y/N, we both have the same problem and we both trust each other... I don't see any reason not to try."

"Okay," I smile.

"Let's get you comfortable," he says as he starts to pull the comforter and sheet down for me. The scent of fresh fabric softener is in my nose again as the sheet flies past me and I'm wondering if he changed the sheets just today because he knew I might show up. I shake my slippers off and climb into Steve's bed. Wow, even thinking that just sounds so... unreal and maybe scandalous. But this isn't like that.

Steve comes to my side of the bed and fluffs the pillow before my head can even hit it and then he tucks me in. He actually tucks me in. I giggle like a little kid, shuffling my feet around until I get them positioned in just the right place. I can't help but smile. He turns off the lamp next to me and walks around to sit down on the other side of the bed, leaning against the headboard and propping his knees up so he can rest the sketchbook on them.

"Is the light too much?" he asks, looking down at me, concerned.

I reach a paw out from under the comforter to pat his elbow, "It's fine, I promise." And it really is, it's soft and dim in his room and I feel so incredibly relaxed. Though he's not touching me, I can feel a subtle heat coming off his body and even though I'm in bed with a person I'm normally just casual friends with, something feels so intimate about this and so... special. Okay, we might be better friends than just casual - we probably are, actually. He might, in fact, be the Avenger I'm closest to. I pull my arm out of the covers, the one that's closest to him, and I fold it up under my head and rest my cheek on it. "Do you mind if I watch?" I whisper.

"No, not at all," he says gently, looking down at me, "but it's not really all that interesting."

"Steve," I say, dragging out the "E" sound. "Stop being so hard on yourself and, by the way, you are one of the most interesting people I know."

"Okay, chief," he grins at me. He notices a hair that has worked its way out of my ponytail holder and onto my forehead and he reaches down to brush it away, slowly brushing his thumb over my forehead. The warm sensation makes me want to close my eyes and they do become a little heavier after that. But I'm somewhat determined to watch Steve work. I love the look on his face as he concentrates and the skewed rectangular reflection of the white pages against the blue of his eyes. He squints once in a while as he works, his dark eyelashes fluttering momentarily.

After a little while, he slides his legs down onto the bed and covers a yawn with his forearm. He looks tired but maybe he's nervous about getting into bed.

"Sleepy?" I ask, my voice now sounding like I've already been asleep myself.

"Getting there," he smiles. "Maybe I ought to get changed."