34 Going On 100

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In honor of a very special day for America... and a very, very special day for Steve Rogers, here's a little something from me. I do not own these characters, I just write them as a way to love and care for them. *SOME* language... cover your eyes if it's too much, lol.

Happy 100th birthday tomorrow, Steve!

In the thick-aired quiet of the night, her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room as she slowly stepped out of the bathroom door.

She stopped to admire the generous form in the middle of the bed, the man whose mere presence etched a smile on her face in the middle of the night. The faint sound of his sleeping breath echoed in the small room, his sweet slumber uninterrupted by her late night trip to the bathroom. She neared the bed, standing still, and looked down at his beautiful, large framed shoulders, uncovered and smooth, trailing down his back until the view was obscured by a white sheet draped over his middle. The cascading muscles of his arms lead to the middle of his body where it joined the other arm in peace near his chin, snuggled to his pillow.

The July air was thick that night and the old air conditioning worked just enough to keep the room from being swampy but she was glad to have it. Privileges like air conditioning and cable tv had gone out the window since the day they'd gone on the run. When they finally set up camp at the safe house, secluded in the woods, it was a privilege just to have a secure place to sleep.

Steve had done his best to make it a home for them and after a few months, the situation became so familiar, it was almost comforting.

She quietly picked up the sheet to crawl onto the bed. Slowly and carefully, she pressed the front of herself against his back, savoring in the feeling of his cool skin with the warmth that radiated from inside of him. Snuggled in tightly to him, she wrapped her arm around his slim waist under the sheet. She breathed him in with anticipation, he smelled like a fresh shower and, the best part of all... he smelled like Steve. Struggling with the will not to wake him but also the excitement she was feeling, she squeezed him gently and nuzzled her face into his back.

He stirred every so slightly, though she didn't imagine he was awake. Seconds that felt like hours ticked by as she decided what to do.

And then, she lifted her head up to his shoulders, realizing she wasn't tall enough to make her sudden plan work. Shifting her body upwards against him, she found just the right spot to lean up on her elbow and kiss his neck, right underneath his ear. Savoring the feel of his warm neck on her lips, she kissed him there gently until he stirred again, finally making a little sleepy noise.

"Mmm hi baby," he whispered without moving his head. "What are you doing back there?"

"Saying happy birthday, soldier," she grinned, finally letting up on the tender kisses.

A chuckle rose within him and he smiled, showing off his adorable, happy dimple. "My birthday's not 'til tomorrow, sweetheart."

"Actually, your birthday is now," she cooed. "It's just about midnight. Happy birthday, old man," she laughed.

He knew her well enough to know she was only teasing calling him "old man" but the comment still had to be rectified. "Old man, huh?" he sat up, reaching for her with a grin and a tickle. "I think I keep up very well," he mocked being hurt.

As she climbed onto his lap, she frowned. "Of course you do, baby. Because in reality you're more like..." she started to do the math in her head...

"34," he said with amusement.

"Right - 34. I was going to say that," she winked. She reached for his face softly, "You're the sexiest 34 year old 100 year old that I know — and the sweetest."

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