Natasha always wakes up last.
She doesn't wake up late by any stretch of the imagination. Steve just wakes up so goddamn early that she always feels like she's slacking.
Today is no different. She's still mostly asleep when she hears Steve's voice, and she can hardly make out the words. She whines quietly, rolling over into her stomach and burying her face in her pillow.
"Nat." The bed dips, like Steve's just now getting on it, but they've been in bed together this whole time. Or, at least, she thought they were. She usually notices when he gets out of bed.
"Mm?" Natasha hums.
"Are you awake?" Steve asks quietly.
"Mm." It's neither a yes or a no.
Steve chuckles. He kisses the back of her head. "Let me know when you wake up."
She rolls over and opens her eyes, and she's greeted with the sight of her lovely boyfriend seated on the edge of the bed. He's already dressed for the day, with his hair all done and looking all cute, and she can't help but smile at the thought that he's all hers. This is her boyfriend. How did she get this lucky?
Steve smiles, too, as he looks down at her. "Hey, doll."
"Hey yourself," she says, and it would almost be flirtatious if she wasn't half-asleep.
"I brought you something," he tells her.
"Oh?" That's an interesting way to start the day. "What'd you bring me?"
Steve reaches behind him, leaving an air of suspense for those three seconds she has to wait. When he turns back around, he's holding a cookie sheet. He sets it down on the mattress, and she bites her lip, smiling like an idiot. There are a dozen or so muffins on it, with a cup of coffee sitting in the middle.
She looks up at him. "What's this about?"
Steve shrugs, but the smug smirk on his face says this was more calculated than he's letting on. "Just a little special something for my special someone."
Her shoulders shake with silent laughter, and she slides closer to him, resting her head on his lap. "When'd you have time to make muffins?"
"Just now," he says. "Woke up extra early just for you."
"Aw, you didn't have to do that!" She's damn glad he did do that, but he didn't have to!
"I know," he says with a smile that makes her heart flutter. "But I wanted to."
She shakes her head to herself. "You're adorable." She sits up and leans in to kiss his cheek. "Have I ever told you that I love you?"
"You know, I don't think you have," he says with a smile that says otherwise.
"Well, I love you very much," she says.
She reaches for a muffin, but Steve hits her hand away. She scoffs, looking up at him indignantly. He wakes her up with muffins and he won't even let her have one?
"I have to ask my question first," he tells her.
"Well, you should've led with that," she reprimands teasingly.
He rolls his eyes. "I know, I know."
She looks up at him expectantly. "What's your question?"
"Will you be my valentine?"
Her eyes go wide. "Is that today?" God, she didn't realize it was so soon. She'd meant to ask him about it. They'd never even discussed it, so she'd mostly assumed they wouldn't do anything for it, but she'd still meant to ask...
"It is today," Steve tells her.
She frowns. "Aw, Steve, I'm sorry," she mumbles. "I didn't realize – I didn't even get you anything or–"
"Shh." Steve wraps his arms around her, resting her chin on her shoulder. "I'm not asking you to get me anything. I'm asking you to be my valentine."
Her frown only deepens. "I just feel bad 'cause you went through all this trouble and–"
"Shh." Steve hugs her a little tighter. "If I wanted something from you, I would have mentioned it sooner. Now let the 95-year-old man be cheesy on his first Valentine's Day with a partner he loves, will you?"
Still, she hesitates, but after a few seconds, the ridiculousness of that statement gets to her and she can't help but smile. "Okay," she concedes. "I'll be your valentine."
"Good." He kisses the base of her neck. "Now you can have a muffin."
She fights back a laugh and does just that. She picks up the biggest, plumpest, blueberry-est muffin she can find, peels back the wrapper, and takes a bite. It's still warm; fresh from the oven, she'd guess, and absolutely worth waking up a little earlier than she'd planned for.
"How is it?" he asks.
"Horrible," she says, though the teasing smile on her face assures him that it's not true. "The worst muffin I've ever had. I better eat them all so you don't have to have any."
She can feel his silent laughter against her body. "That bad, huh?"
"So bad." More seriously, she asks, "Have you had one yet?"
He shakes his head. "I figured I'd let you do the honors of having the first one."
She rests her head on his shoulders. "You are so cute." She takes another bite of her muffin, then says as she chews, "You gotta have one. Taste your hard work."
"If you insist," he says. He takes his own muffin – a fairly average-sized one; he clearly isn't as strategic as Natasha is in choosing muffins – and takes a bite. Unlike his girlfriend's, his manners still apply when he's in bed, so he waits until he's finished chewing to speak. "I'm really glad these turned out okay because that would have been a horrible start to the day if I messed them up."
"I would have loved them even if they were burnt to a crisp," she tells him. "I wouldn't have eaten them, but I would have loved them 'cause you made them for me."
Steve huffs. "Well, if that's all I had to do, why'd I put so much effort into this?"
"'Cause you love me."
Steve chuckles and puts an arm around her shoulders. "Yeah, I really do."