[ She's not - since she did mostly just crawl straight out of bed, in casual shorts and a tank top. The walk to Steve's room isn't a long one and within minutes, there's a light tapping at the door. ]
[ Steve doesn't respond to her text, now knowing that this request of his may actually be fulfilled. Natasha is going to come to his room.
He isn't sure why but it makes him nervous. A good nervous, kind of, but nervous nevertheless. So if he tidies his bed a little, rearranges the items on his dresser (nothing much, honestly, just a bottle of aftershave, hair product, deodorant), tucks any spare clothing away, it's not for Natasha's benefit. Obviously.
He opens the door, a hand running through his hair. ]
[ She smirks, a typical little signature that might as well be a permanent expression on Natasha's face. At least when she's in Steve's company. Leaning against his door frame, she gives him a long look, as if trying to decide if all their playful banter actually means anything beyond just that.
Or did Steve have some other thoughts floating through his head like she was? ]
Tell me the goods are safe. Be a shame if there was any damage.
[ She raises a brow, eyeing him for a long pause. It's easy to tell what's on his mind. Mostly because she knows this isn't normally Steve's territory. Flirting, suggestive banter — she's normally pretty well aware of what goes on his stage and it isn't this. But that's possibly why she likes this even more.
Without a word, she slips past him, stepping slowly across his room until she reaches the foot of his bed. She offers a quick glance to him over her shoulder but nothing more before she bends down away from him, providing a fairly pleasant view of her shorts if he happens to be pairing attention.
When she rises up, she spins to face him, red lace held between her thumbs. ]
Exactly where I left them. I'm ashamed you weren't even curious to get a good look.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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We can set our terms. See if we can meet somewhere in the middle.
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you just have to tell me what I need to have prepared for you.
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Have your terms and conditions ready.
I'll prepare mine too.
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[ is this a late night booty call, rogers? ]
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I mean, not unless you want to.
[ l o l what is a booty call tho ]
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[ it's totally on your list, don't deny it ]
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pls teach him nat ]
Yes, that's a yes.
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[ She's not - since she did mostly just crawl straight out of bed, in casual shorts and a tank top. The walk to Steve's room isn't a long one and within minutes, there's a light tapping at the door. ]
Knock knock.
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He isn't sure why but it makes him nervous. A good nervous, kind of, but nervous nevertheless. So if he tidies his bed a little, rearranges the items on his dresser (nothing much, honestly, just a bottle of aftershave, hair product, deodorant), tucks any spare clothing away, it's not for Natasha's benefit. Obviously.
He opens the door, a hand running through his hair. ]
Hey.
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[ She smirks, a typical little signature that might as well be a permanent expression on Natasha's face. At least when she's in Steve's company. Leaning against his door frame, she gives him a long look, as if trying to decide if all their playful banter actually means anything beyond just that.
Or did Steve have some other thoughts floating through his head like she was? ]
Tell me the goods are safe. Be a shame if there was any damage.
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[ Steve steps back, giving Natasha enough breadth to pass through the door and make this ... well, make this late-night visit an actual thing.
A thing he still isn't sure about, but it feels right all the same. ]
You can see it for yourself.
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Without a word, she slips past him, stepping slowly across his room until she reaches the foot of his bed. She offers a quick glance to him over her shoulder but nothing more before she bends down away from him, providing a fairly pleasant view of her shorts if he happens to be pairing attention.
When she rises up, she spins to face him, red lace held between her thumbs. ]
Exactly where I left them. I'm ashamed you weren't even curious to get a good look.