"I swear, it won't happen again." You shook your head and muttered to yourself. "Never again, never."
"Y/N?" Your ears perked up at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, but you didn't look up from your task. You were currently on your hands and knees in your bedroom, scraping cat hair off your beautiful black rug with a lint roller. The front door closed, and footfall could be heard in the kitchen.
"Y/N?" The footfall was heading towards your bedroom. Closing your eyes, you grit your teeth and gripped the lint roller tighter.
"Please go away, please go away." You chanted to yourself.
"Y/N?" Steve poked his head into the room. You glanced up to look into his eyes. The lint roller went slack in your hand, and you just stared at him for a moment. The sight of Steve Rogers never ceased to steal your breath. It didn't matter the occasion, time of day, or what he was wearing. The man was just that magnificent. Blue eyes looked down at you in amused bemusement, and Steve cocked his head to the side and folded his arms. "What are you doing?" Irritation niggled at the back of your mind, and you snapped out of your daze to glare at the lint roller now tightly clutched in your hand.
"Writing my acceptance speech for the Oscars, what does it look like I'm doing, Steven?" You hissed, looking up. The grin had slipped from his face and in its place, you could see the beginnings of the same irritation you felt. Shame roiled in your gut, and you dropped the lint roller and extended your hand to make grabby motions in his direction. Steve sighed and pulled you up from the floor. Groaning with the effort, you pulled your hand from his and brushed cat hair off of your jeans. "Thanks."
"Of course." He said stiffly, turning back towards the door. Feeling an eye twitch coming on, you paused to rub your eye before opening your mouth to speak, only to inhale a lung full of cat hair. What should have been his name came out more as a nasally wheeze. "Y/N." Steve was instantly in front of you, clucking his tongue and rubbing circles on your back. You clutched his shoulder with one hand and hit at your chest with the other. "Come on." He said gently, ushering you towards the kitchen. He easily lifted you onto the counter and turned to grab a glass out of the cabinet. After filling the glass, he turned and handed it to you. "Drink this." You took the glass and gave him a thin smile. Putting the glass to your lips, you took slow sips and watched him over the rim of the glass. He'd leaned against the counter and was looking at you, concern filling his eyes.
"Thank you." You gave him a warm smile and set the glass on the counter. Steve straightened and reached for the glass, turning back to the sink. Your eyes tracked his movements, mechanical and stiff. You knew the signs. He was shutting down. It happened every time you fought. Sliding off the counter you slid behind him and slipped your arms around his waist. Steve froze.
"Steven, darling." You said, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades. His shoulders relaxed and you smiled to yourself. Rising onto your tiptoes, you brushed your lips against the side of his neck and slipped your hands into his front pockets. "I'm sorry." A sharp 'CRACK' sent you jumping back with a squeak. Steve turned to look at you with a sheepish grin, and you peered around his large frame to see that he'd cracked your countertop. Your expensive countertop. "Steven Grant Rogers," Large arms wrapped around you, and he stopped your tirade with a firm kiss. You hesitated for only an instant before melting into the kiss with a sigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. Steve pulled back with a teasing nip at your lower lip and rested his forehead against yours.
"I'll replace your countertops." He whispered through ragged breaths. Your heart fluttered at his gravelly voice, and you ran your hands down his shoulders to rest on his chest.
"What countertops?" He chuckled darkly and recaptured your lips with his own. Taking advantage of a surprised moan, he swept into your mouth with his tongue and bent slightly to hook his hands under your knees, pulling you into his arms. Locking your legs around his waist, you pulled back to trail kisses across his jaw.
"Couch or counter?" He said, voice growing reedy, and tightened his grip on your thighs.
"Couch definitely couch." You breathed against his skin, before drawing a groan from his chest with your lips on his neck.
"Steven, my love." You turned your head to look at your boyfriend.
"Hm?" He grinned lazily and slung an arm over your waist, drawing you further into his side. Snuggling into his chest, you trailed a finger up and down his arm and kissed the underside of his jaw. "Again woman?" He groaned, pinching your side playfully.
"You wish!" Chuckling softly, you swatted at his hand. Steve laced your fingers through his and kissed the back of your hand. Your eyes softened, and he slowly began kissing his way up your arm, never breaking eye contact. Your mind started going fuzzy until you remembered how you'd gotten here in the first place.
"Steve, really." You huffed. He paused and glanced down at your exposed shoulder before placing a final reverent kiss and resting his chin there.
"I'm all ears."
"Steven my love, light of my life,"
"Is this a proposal? How romantic." Steve grinned.
"Steven." You frowned and he kissed the inside of your wrist apologetically.
"I'm sorry, continue."
"Thank you." You cleared your throat. "Steven. My love, light of my life. I'd catch a grenade for you, jump in front of a train for you,"
"Quoting Bruno Mars now?" He raised a brow.
"Steve, I swear if you don't let me finish," You growled, raising yourself up on one arm.
"Okay, okay, I'll behave." You narrowed your eyes, entirely doubting his words, but deciding to take a chance on it any way.
"I would die for you, really I would Steve, but," pausing you anchored a hand in his hair and tilted his face so you could meet his eye. "If you ever volunteer my apartment for cat sitting again, I'll push you in front of a train."
"Would you throw a grenade at me?" Steve's lips twitched. Your brows lowered and you frowned.
"Yes." You said darkly. Steve went a shade paler, and you watched his adam's apple bob up and down.
"But you love Alpine." He tried, squirming against your hand still latched in his hair.
"I do."
"And Bucky was in a spot," Steve's eyes were positively pleading at this point.
"I don't care it was George Washington's cat, it stays at your apartment, not mine!" You huffed.
"But,"
"No buts, Steven, I mean it!" You released his hair and slid your finger down the side of his face, pausing when you hit his bottom lip. "Now say yes ma'am." His eyes followed the path of your finger, and your throat grew thick at the hooded gaze he gave you.
"Yes ma'am."