Lessons in Rule Breaking and Other Reader-Inserts*Steve Rogers*Reader*

Ground Rules (for Love and War) - Pt.2/2

You felt your muscles relaxing, melting into the pleasant warmth and soon, you were dead to the world.

Gentle sway brought you back to consciousness, soft dip as fabric slid under your body and you subconsciously curled back towards the warmth that seemed to be disappearing. It still did, but cushions soon replaced it. You were too tired to resist, sinking into the mattress instead.

Faintly recalling the events of the night, you figured Tony must have rescued you from your prison. Mind painfully slow, it dawned to you that Steve, whom you possibly used as your personal pillow slash space heater, carried you to bed.

Sweet. Very, very sweet, always so nice, but never like with the others... perhaps it was about to change? You had passed some kind of a test? Or did you...?

"Steve... will you... treat me... like all... your friends?" your words slurred, quiet and mumbled mostly to your actual pillow, but apparently, he understood.

Or maybe you were just dreaming.

"Would you like that?" his lips must have barely moved, his voice so low you might as well only imagine it.

You felt like you only considered it for a second, but you couldn't be sure. You just wanted to sleep. Just answer one more question to the chivalrous Steve, who was carefully tucking you in.

"Nah... Too pretty... to be friend."

He chuckled breathlessly, a huff of air caressing your face.

"Yes, you are, doll. Sleep. I'll try not to put my foot in my mouth tomorrow morning when you're really awake and I finally ask you out, okay?"

Promise? "Uh-uh. So sweet."

"Goodnight," he whispered an inch from your head, warmth touching your forehead for only a fraction of second.

"'night."

The reality was, he did put his foot in his moth the next morning. But only a bit; he still got a yes from you. As if no was ever an option. Vaguely remembering what had been happening after you had fallen asleep in the workshop, you returned his gesture – except his forehead was too high, so your lips brushed his cheek instead; you had to tug on his sleeve to reach at least that spot.

He certainly didn't seem to mind if the delighted smile he gave you in return was anything to go by.

-.-.-

It wasn't the only significant encounter of that morning though.

Bucky walked into kitchen only to find Sam casually sipping his coffee, a wide grin on his face.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" the sergeant hissed, rewarded by raised brows.

"Come on, Barnes. You should be smarter than that. Do you really think Tony keeps candles around? And no flashlights? Dude. It was for romantic atmosphere. Even you could see how hopeless they were. It was all part of my master plan to get these two idiots together," Sam revealed calmly, clicking his tongue when Bucky shot him a murderous look, leaning closer with a menacing face.

"Do you have any idea what kind of an eye-fuck session I've been through? What I had to witness? If it was such a master plan, why did I get stuck in there with them?!"

"As a psychical support to your best pal Steve...?"

Bucky looked like he was considering what kind of a murder would be most painful for the other man. Strangling him would be so... boring. Though no doubt satisfying enough.

Would be though? That bastard had the audacity to shrug as he placed his empty cup on the counter.

"Kidding, I'm his best pal. I figured that it would be fun to have you play the third wheel. We are still at war, Barnes," he pointed out. "I just thought I'd kill two birds with one stone."

Bucky's fist hit the counter, making the poor cup rattle.

"Soon, I will kill one particular bird and I will need no stone," Bucky stated with startling serenity. "Run, Wilson. Run."

Sam Wilson was a brave man. But hell, when the former Winter Soldier tells you to run, you run and you'd better be grateful for the head start.

-----Notes:
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