Fireworks
The whole team was sitting around the bonfire, listening to Clint’s story. You were sitting cross-legged on ground, your back pressed against a log that served as a bench. Wanda had her head in your lap, her gaze focused on Clint.
“..then we stole a Lamborghini and drove back to Vienna,” Clint concluded his story. “And that’s what happened in Budapest.”
You all stared at him and Natasha with wide eyes. Tony’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. When he spoke, he sounded as baffled as he looked.
“If I never hear that story again, it'll be too soon.”
Clint shrugged casually. He threw his head back and poured the rest of his beer down his throat, smacking his lips together. Natasha fingered the arrow-shaped pendant she wore around her neck, a gentle smile on her lips.
“I’m going to bed,” Wanda yawned, pushing herself off your lap.
One by one, the team retreated to their tents, leaving you alone with Bucky and Steve. The team had decided to go camping on the Fourth of July weekend to avoid the fireworks. Especially after the incident last New Year’s Eve, when everyone started shaking and breathing hard as soon as the fireworks exploded.
You all needed a quiet and secluded place to camp and be together.
Bucky stuck a marshmallow on the end of his stick and held the stick above the flames. You watched, mesmerized, as the flames licked the marshmallow, turning it into a gooey mess. Bucky rotated the stick, oblivious to the pointed look Steve was sending his way.
He cleared his throat noisily, “Hey Buck, aren’t you tired?”
“Nope,” Bucky replied without looking up.
Steve fought back a groan. “I think you’re tired. You should go to bed.”
Bucky snickered. “You’re not my m- Oh!” He finally looked up and saw Steve looking at him with his eyebrows raised high on his forehead. “Yeah, I’m beat. Night!”
He gave you a bright smile as he walked past you, testing the marshmallow’s temperature with the tip of his tongue. Steve heaved a silent sigh as he finally got rid of his best friend. For a long moment, there was a slightly uncomfortable silence between you and Steve. You focused your gaze on the crackling fire and took a deep breath.
“I hope you had a good birthday,” you said, turning your head to look at Steve. “I’m sorry you missed the fireworks.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he quickly said, shaking his head. “This is better than fireworks. We’re all together, no feud. Thank you, I know it was your idea to go camping.”
You gave him a sheepish smile in response. There was a good chemistry between you and Steve; lots a lingering looks and gentle touches, but you were hesitant to take this to the next level. You knew Steve would never make fun of you in a hurtful way, but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself.
Steve’s heart was thumping so hard in his chest, it hurt. He was finally alone with you, it was now or never. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Closing his mouth, he mentally yelled at himself.
“Come on, Steven, don’t wait too long!” he thought. “It’s your birthday, you’re freaking 99, be a man!”
You turned your head to him when he spoke your name. Steve felt the heat rise in his cheeks and lowered his gaze.
“I swear, if you blush or stutter you’ll be doing push-ups for a month!”
He frowned slightly, wondering why his inner voice sounded like Bucky. You watched the emotions chase across his face and laughed softly. Steve cringed, realizing he must have looked like an idiot.
“You okay?” you asked, unable to hide your smile. “Looks like you were thinking about something.”
Steve scrunched up his nose in an adorable grimace, eliciting another laugh from you. He decided to go all in.
“Well, I was kinda hoping you’d give me a gift.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything,” you admitted, ashamed.
“It’s okay. It can be... Oh, I don’t know.” He pretended to think, then smiled boyishly. “How about a birthday kiss?”
“Smooth, Rogers, keep it up,” he thought, grinning to himself when your eyes opened wide.
“A b-birthday... kiss?”
Steve made a humming sound of approbation as he slid down onto the ground to sit next to you. He watched you breathe hard, his lips lifted in a cheeky smile. You both moved forward, your eyes fluttering closed, until you lips met.
You moaned softly into the kiss and gripped his neck, gently massaging the back of his head. Steve’s thumb traced the top of your cheekbone as he slid his fingers into your hair. He tasted like marshmallow and beer; an odd combination, but you were already addicted.
The first touch of your tongue sent shock-waves through his body. He squeezed his eyes shut as stars flashed before his eyes. He had his own personal fireworks and he wouldn’t share that feeling with anyone. Just you.
When you parted, you gazed up at him and smiled. Steve rested his forehead against yours, his hand cupping your jaw. You were both trying to catch your breath, goofy smiles on your faces.
“Happy birthday,” you whispered.
He pressed his mouth to yours and placed your hand on his toned stomach, laughing softly as he said, “Thanks for the fireworks.”