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✧･ﾟ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

steve murphy x female!reader [11.4k] summary ⤍ you’d dealt with men worse than him in the academy and through your entire life really, but steve… he was something. warnings ⤍ enemies to lovers, reader gets hurt & nursed back to health, mentions of concussion, injuries and (brief) vomiting. a/n ⤍ i am, indeed, obsessed with steve at the moment so hope you aren’t tired of him yet. I had fun writing this so feedback would be appreciated!! also fun fact: I took a big fall and got a concussion last week so that’s what inspired me to write this lmao. anyway enjoy!! <3

Growing up, you aspired to be whatever bullshit stereotypical career society pushed you to be. Your mother was adamant to pump that belief into you as soon as you popped out, dressing you in princess clothes and gently scolding you when you expressed your desire to play with anything that wasn’t deemed feminine and shaped as a doll. The disappointments kept rolling through when you one day announced that you were going to become a cop, and your poor parents nearly lost their minds at the thought of their sweet daughter chasing criminals with a gun holstered at your side.

You couldn’t really blame them, but nothing had felt as right in your life as the day you became a DEA agent. It was a tough career because not only was it mentally exhausting and physically challenging, but the misogyny deeply rooted in that department really made your teeth grind.

There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by where you did your best to prove yourself, and it felt a little like a reward when you were asked to join the team down in Colombia to fight the narcos.

It was hard, you couldn’t deny that. Not only was it a male dominant space, but your two partners really did nothing to make your life easier at the start. Javier had softened considerably after a few weeks, and it felt a little like a reward when you realised one day that he’d stopped seeing you as a person with tits and an ass and started seeing you as an equal. It was fucked up, but it was a relief.

Steve though. Steve Murphy. The two of you butted heads right from the start. The man was a ticking bomb just waiting to go off; Anger issues and short, stubborn tempers wrapped up in a messy bow. There had been some comments coming from his mouth at the beginning, but you were strong enough to ignore them, smart enough to realise that the man’s words were coming from a place of inferiority and insecurity rather than hatred.

You only had so much patience to dish out though. A few months down the line in sweaty and crime riddled Colombia, and a handful of failed attempts to catch Escobar in the act, and you were fed up. You weren’t proud of the day where you finally snapped, but you were definitely in the right and that was something you’d stand by until the end of time.

It was just the icing on the cake, wasn’t it? When you’d followed up on a tip and ended up tailing one of Pablo’s sicarios through the town. You’d lost him and it had been inevitable, really. Those assholes were like snakes, and they sure slithered away from your grip like one. You’d gone back to the office, sweaty and angry and Steve had mumbled something about how you’d fucked it all up. It wasn’t your fault really, but that one passive aggressive comment had irked you so much so that you had turned around and socked him before Javier could predict the consequences and stop it. There had been a stunned silence, followed by Steve’s exclamation of “what the fuck is wrong with you” and you probably should’ve felt embarrassed by the way everyone had stopped and stared at you. But you’d been shaking with anger and you’d turned and walked out before anyone got another word in. The next day had been mellow, no one bringing up the fact that your knuckles were a little bruised or how Steve looked a little too red around the nose.

It didn’t put you and Steve in a better position, you weren’t friends and the usual stakeouts usually happened between you and Javier or the latter and Steve. Desk duty usually consisted of an Oscar worthy performance in the art of ignoring each other with the occasional snide comments and bickering. Javier was quick to shut them down though, before they turned into something uglier.

You were better than that. But you couldn’t help it, there was something that just really didn’t sit well with you when it came to Steve. He really knew how to dance on your nerves just by giving you a look, a noise from his mouth, anything. You’d dealt with men worse than him in the academy and through your entire life really, but Steve… He was something.

It was a Friday and another day in the office, consisting of working tirelessly with translating radio and phone calls. There was nothing you hated more than paperwork so sitting beside Trujillo and listening in on calls was something you were happy to do. It was gruelling work, but it paid off when you caught the voice of someone about a shipment coming in with a hefty amount of coke.

Carrillo had sent you all out on the hunt, ordering you to only get back if you had something to show off. You all were determined, and things had gone well up until the point where one of Escobar’s sicarios had caught sight of you sitting in your car. He bolted like a rat, and you weren’t far behind as you scrambled to chase him down alleyways and into apartments.

Shit had gone sideways though. It came with the job, really. One second you were jumping over railings, hot on the tail of one of the two men and you’d decided in the midst of chaos that you’d had enough. A bullet in the asshole’s kneecap would surely stop him from getting away. You’d reached for your gun and then… Nothing.

There was a moment where you didn’t know where you were or what had transpired, mind going scarily blank as you found yourself on your back and eyes blinking up at a painfully bright and blue sky. You frowned, wondering why everything felt so hazy right before your awareness crept up; Mind working overtime to make sense of how you’d gotten here. Your lips parted in a groan, scrunching your nose at the incessant ringing in your ear because what the fuck was that?

Panic shot through your body when your thoughts slowly started to piece things together, thinking that surely you’d been shot. But you weren’t bleeding, and there was no pain in your body that resembled the feeling of a gunshot wound.

You weren’t sure whether you were imagining a voice shouting your name, but it sounded panicked enough for you to twist where you laid on the rubble of rotten planks and god knows what. The zip of pain shooting through your entire body took you by surprise, and you let out a pained shout when you felt your head ache in a way you hadn’t felt in a while.

“Hey, hey, hey.” The voice was soothing, out of breath and you struggled to push yourself up into a sitting position to locate the voice among the general noise of cars and pedestrians of Bogotá. “Easy.”

It was like magic, how Steve appeared in your field of view out of nowhere and you realised a little belatedly that he’d been the one to shout your name. He got down on his knees and eased you back by the shoulders when you tried to sit up. Panic climbed in your throat at the fire hot pain blazing in your back and you tried to seek comfort in something familiar. Like Steve’s wide eyes or his moving lips when he talked.

“No, hey, stay there. You might have broken something.” He said, a little sternly, a little exasperated.

The tone of his voice brought a familiar comfort of it amidst the confusion swirling in your mind and it was enough to kick it into high gear. The natural response of going against everything Steve Murphy advised.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, swatting his hand away when he felt your arms and ribs up in search of anything broken. “I’m okay, Murphy. Can you stop feeling me up?”

Steve glared at you and you tried to ignore how the world was spinning, trying to focus on the blue of his squinty eyes.

“Only you’d try to play off a fall like that .” He shook his head, glancing up before settling his gaze on you again.

You followed his eyes, something in your mind clicking of what exactly had happened. The roof was way further up than you’d realised and you must’ve somehow miscalculated the length of the roof building and ran right into thin air in the midst of chaos.

“You okay?” He asked and you looked at him before attempting yet again to haul yourself up.

He didn’t protest this time, silently helping you to sit up without rattling your injured head too much. The world was still spinning though, and nausea settled deep into your stomach.

“Where’s Javi?” You asked instead, and Steve’s eyebrows jumped a little like he knew you were trying to dodge his question.

“He’s still chasing the fucker, but I don’t doubt he’ll come back empty handed.” The man replied, tilting his head to get eye contact with you when your head started to dip a little.

It was becoming slightly difficult to keep your head up, with the way it was pounding like someone had taken a bat to it. You barely registered the gentle hand Steve was sliding over your cheek, fingers spanning over the sensitive skin of the side of your neck under your ear. He slowly tipped your head back upright and sighed.

“I think you’ve got a concussion.” He noted and you hummed in what you hoped sounded like a sarcastic laugh.

“Thank you, captain obvious.” You murmured, bringing a hand up to the other side of your head where it was hurting the most. “It fucking hurts.”

Steve tried not to show it on his face but that one confession had surprised him. You weren’t one to admit when you were feeling discomfort, too proud to show any type of weakness. He remembered how you’d once sprained your wrist early on and you’d still went through with chasing down one of Pablo’s sicarios until you had him in handcuffs. Steve hadn’t realised you’d been injured, he’d only found out when he walked into a back room at the office and accidentally found you wrapping your wrist up like it was a walk in the park.

He would never admit it out loud, but that was the first time he’d felt respect for you.

You winced when he felt the side of your head, looking for blood or any type of trauma and he heaved a little sigh of relief when he found nothing other than a small bump.

“You’ll be okay, let’s get you up.” He said. “I’ll take you to the doctors and they’ll have a look at your head.”

You groaned in annoyance as he stood up, bending at the knees to help you up on your feet.

“I’m fine, I don’t need a doctor.” You insisted, but the spinning in your head said otherwise. Steve grunted when you stumbled into him, catching you before you both fell over.

You blinked up at him, trying not to glare too hard at the amused arch of his eyebrows.

“You sure about that?”

Your pride took a small hit when you realised that you had to lean on Steve way more than expected, letting him guide you out of the alleyway and out onto the streets. The noise of the rumbling cars and chatter of the people made your head hurt, and you squinted at the brightness of the sun. Whatever you did made your head hurt, and you suddenly longed for a long hot shower and your bed.

“Hey, there you are.” Javier’s voice said from somewhere and you didn’t bother to turn, stumbling a little when Steve halted his walking. “The fucker got away— What happened to her?”

“She fell off the roof, banged her head pretty hard.” Steve jostled you a little and you let out a small pained sound. “I think she has a concussion so I’m taking her to the doctor.”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll bring the car around.” Javier’s voice sounded frustrated and a little worried, and you found that the expression on his face matched his voice when he appeared in front of you. He reached a hand out and touched your chin. “You okay?”

Any other guy would’ve gotten their fingers twisted if they’d touched you like that, but Javier was Javier and you’d come to grow very fond of him. And he did seem genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine.” You said for the fifteenth time and Steve made a noise of annoyance at your stubbornness.

“Yeah, that’s what you keep saying.” His voice dripped in sarcasm and you shoved him weakly in the side.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

Javier shot you both an amused stare, shoving a hand into his pocket to fish his keys out.

“Good to know you haven’t lost your fight.”

You flashed him the finger and watched him walk away with a laugh.

“Hey, whoa!”

You hadn’t felt how the world had tilted on its axis, losing your footing and crashing into Steve. He was quick to grab you and you made a noise in your throat when your head started pounding even more intently, pressing your forehead against the damp fabric of his shirt; Right against his right pec to ground yourself. You’d never so much as touched the man before, so you blamed it on you being concussed and too sickly to stand on your own.

Steve didn’t say anything, thankfully, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to hold you up while the two of you waited for Javi to bring the car around. You didn’t know how long you had run for, but it had been enough for you to work up a sweat so you guessed it was a distance back to the car. Which is why it was a surprise when the familiar Jeep pulled up so quickly, Steve ushering you into the backseat and you tried to make yourself comfortable for the long ride.

You didn’t know why you’d expected Steve to close the door and take his place in the passenger seat, a small scrunch forming in your brow when he got in right behind you and shut the door. He glanced at you, halting his movements when he noticed you staring a little too hard.

“What?” He asked, defensive.

“Nothing.” You rolled your eyes, turning your head just in time to hide the grimace at the ache that one small gesture induced.

It was a distance to get back to the part of the town where you all resided, the doctors emergency room not too far away from your apartment building. It was a blessing in disguise.

The ride back was long, or maybe it felt that way because your brain was too fried to keep up with the conversation your two partners were having. The sun beating down through the windows didn’t make it better, making you shift in your seat to avoid the beaming sun on your left side. That also meant that you’d shifted closer to Steve’s side, making you both awkwardly glance at each other and you to scoot back.

“You doing okay, mija?” Javier asked, glancing at you in the front mirror when he noticed your dragged out silence and you hummed.

Normally he’d be fighting to get you to shut up whenever you rode in the same car as Steve. Which happened a lot. He didn’t wanna voice it, but your lack of bickering and talking worried him a little. Steve was being unusually quiet too. Javier glanced at the blond man to your right, making a mental note to ask about the way he was sneaking looks at you whenever you weren’t looking.

“Head hurts.” You murmured in reply, leaning your head back against the headrest and closing your eyes to shield them from the brightness of the environment.

The movement of the car and the streets passing by you so quickly was starting to make you nauseous, and you willed yourself to not throw up. Although, doing it in Steve’s lap would surely bring some comedic relief on your part.

“Hey, no. No falling asleep.” Javi’s urgent voice made you blink your eyes open and you shot him a glare. “Yeah, give me that look all you want but you shouldn’t fall asleep until you’ve gotten your head checked. You know that.” He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and shot Steve a glance. “Make sure she stays awake.”

The snort you let out was both unattractive and made your head hurt, making Steve roll his eyes and shoot you a look.

“How am I supposed to do that? She’s usually the one who can’t shut the fuck up.” He said and you gritted your teeth at the small jab.

“Maybe I would if you weren’t so fucking annoying.” You shot back at him.

“Me? Annoying?” Steve turned in his seat and you tried not to stare at the way the tightness of his jeans were making his thighs look huge. “You wanna talk about annoying, sweetheart? How about not falling of a god damn roof when we’re trying to catch those motherfuckers out there. You’re the reason he —“

“Steve!” Javier barked, a poor effort to shut him up because Steve continued.

“No, Jav. She fucked this up and you know it! We almost had him.”

“You’re making this my problem?” There was no hiding the sheer disbelief and anger in your voice. “You could’ve gone after him, I didn’t need you to come and save me like you’re some kind of fucked up white knight.”

Steve huffed out a laugh that sounded anything but joyful, positive, and it made your blood boil.

“Of course you’d say that, because when has ‘thank you’ ever been in your fucking vocabulary!” Steve was seething, looking on the verge of a meltdown but so were you. “You’re always too fucking proud.”

His accusing yelling and your anger was starting to get to you. It made the car feel entirely too tiny, like someone was compressing it and you knew that if you didn’t get your ass out of there then you’d do or say something you’d regret. Thankfully, Javier had just pulled up onto a familiar street, and it took you a second to recognise that you were just across the street from the hospital. Javier put the car in park and you scrambled to yank the handle of the door open, frustration and anger climbing in your throat when you couldn’t get the door open fast enough.

Everything was spinning and hurting, but you’d be damned if you spent another second in this car.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” Were your departing words and you didn’t spare any of them a glance as you climbed out.

It was difficult to make sense of direction with the way your head was pounding and spinning like you were on a merry-go-round, but you mustered all your strength into slamming the door of the Jeep closed.

You started walking across the road without looking both ways, thinking that the day couldn’t get worse even if you got hit by a car. Javier called your name a few times, giving up when he realised that it was futile and you hoped that no one would follow you because you definitely needed to cool off. They knew that.

A few painkillers and a bandaged upper arm was what you got after your impromptu doctors visit. Apparently, you’d cut your arm and it had bled without you knowing but it made sense with the way it had been hurting. But then again, your whole body hurt.

The doctor had looked at you sternly and advised you to be on bed rest for the next three days and you’d kept the scowl off your face, thinking that as long as Escobar and his men were running around causing mayhem, you’d be on your feet.

You walked out of the hospital slowly, a little more steady on your feet than when you’d walked in an hour ago. There was a slight pause when you realised that you would need to either walk home or call Javier for a ride, settling on the latter just as you looked up and spotted his Jeep parked across the street.

You started walking towards it, squinting to make out who was sitting in the car and steeling yourself for the agonising conversation you surely would have with Javier. He’d find a way to bring up what had happened an hour prior in his own evading way and you weren’t really in the mood for that. All you wanted was to go home and sleep the rest of the day. Surely, you’d earned that?

The window was rolled down on the passengers side and you walked around to peek in it, coming to a short stop when you came face to face with blond hair and blond mustache, rather than the black. Steve was sitting behind the wheel, one forearm resting on the wheel and he tilted his head to look out the window.

“Hey.” Was all he said.

But it was all you needed from him to turn around and start walking because there was no way you’d endure the short trip back to your complex with him.

“Wait, stop.” The urgency in his voice made you halt and you turned your head to stare at him wordlessly. “Get in the car.”

You arched your brow.

“Just…” he blew out a frustrated breath. “Get in the damn car.”

You didn’t know what possessed you to comply, but you found yourself climbing into the Jeep without a word being said. Steve cleared his throat and reached for the ignition, the engine of the beat up car rumbling to life. The sound filled the tense air and you didn’t even try to hide the way you were looking at the man’s side profile, trying to gauge his mood.

“Quit lookin’ at me.” He grumbled, stealing a glance at you when you didn’t avert your gaze. “Javier refused to come back for you, said I should do it.”

“Nice to know that you did it out of the goodness of your own heart.” You looked out the window, not feeling particularly sad about it.

You could hear your partner suck in a breath, like he was trying to keep himself calm.

“Can you just…” He paused, steeling himself. “Never mind.”

There were no more words exchanged between the two of you as he drove you back home. You didn’t know why, but there was some type of guilt festering inside you for treating him like shit after he clearly tried to help you when you’d taken that fall. You were quick to shove those feelings to the side though, convincing yourself that you had nothing to feel guilty about.

Steve parked outside the building where you all lived, shutting the engine off and you looked at him when you sensed him looking at you.

“Was everything… Okay?” He asked and you would’ve laughed in his face at his inability to act civil with you, but you didn’t have the energy for it.

“Yeah, just a concussion. Said I needed to rest.” You replied, leaving out the part where the doctor had said to have someone beside you for the first night.

Being woken up every two hours felt like a lot, and you didn’t have anyone to ask. Javier would’ve probably done it, but you doubted he’d be able to keep himself awake the whole night and would probably crash within five hours.

You clambered out of the car, taking in a deep breath to get rid of the sudden dizziness that came with being in a moving car and getting out. The door on the other side shut and Steve came around the corner, shooting you a weary look.

“You alright?” He asked and you hummed.

“No need to be carried if that’s what you’re asking me.” You said, opting to make your voice sound a little lighter rather than hostile.

Steve laughed through his nose, holding his hands up in surrender as he started walking to the door. You followed him silently, not pointing out how he stepped to the side when you reached the stairs and had you walking up in front of him.

You did, however, arch a questioning eyebrow when you unlocked your door and stepped inside; Noticing that he was following you in.

“What are you—?”

Steve stepped further inside, forcing you back until he had enough room to shut the front door behind the two of you.

“I’m staying with you.” He said simply.

“The hell you are!” The thought of him in your apartment felt a little bizarre, he’d probably never been here out of his own volition and knowing that he was the one that was gonna take care of you made you a little nervous.

Not that he was a bad caretaker or anything of the sort, but you didn’t have that kind of relationship with him. And you could take care of yourself fine.

“Look, I don’t want this as much as you do but you and I both know it’s either me or some other idiot from work who’s gonna be staying here.” He said and you scrunched your face up in a grimace at that thought. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Why not Javier?” You asked, toeing your shoes off.

“He’s… Working.”

Working. If that’s what you would call fucking sex workers for intel on Pablo. The thought made you raise your eyebrows in amusement.

Steve draped his jacket over your armchair and you made great effort to not point out how you had perfectly fine and working hooks to hang up his clothes, making your way to the little space of your kitchen instead.

It wasn’t a particularly big apartment, one of the smaller ones in the building but you had come to love it. Javier had gotten the bigger one, and you’d never been in Steve’s but you knew that it was on the more bigger side. Bigger than yours at least.

You switched the tiny fan on, watching it spin on the kitchen counter until it made you dizzy before looking away to find Steve standing awkwardly in the space between the kitchen and living area.

“Why don’t you go take a shower?” He suggested and it, for once, sounded like the best idea he’d ever had.

Nothing sounded better than a shower, and you nodded gently. You collected your clothes from your small bedroom and huddled into your bathroom, making sure to keep the door unlocked but firmly closed. There was no way of knowing if you’d end up passing out in the shower cubicle or not, and you weren’t too eager to find out.

The water felt like the gates of heaven had opened up and swallowed you whole, cold shower pelting your sore skin and no doubt soaking your newly bandaged up arm. There were little thoughts swirling in your mind, face tipped up towards the stream as you enjoyed the moment of reprieve.

You didn’t know how long you were in there for, but you emerged a moment later in freshly washed clothes and your hair wrapped up in a towel. There was still some soreness lingering in your body, your head having taking the worst brunt of it, and you could only imagine how you would feel tomorrow morning.

Steve was puttering around in the kitchen and you silently walked up behind and slipped up to sit on the barstool. He still hadn’t noticed you sneaking up on him and you took it as a chance to regard him in his natural habitat.

You had never seen him so… domestic. Office Steve was a different person, always had his grumpy game face on and a tension to his shoulder that never really went away. The only times you had seen him even remotely relaxed were the rare occasions where you’d all go out to a nearby bar and celebrate the small wins when something good happened, or drink yourselves to oblivion when shit went south.

Here, though? He looked almost content. You didn’t really know why, but the sight of him in your kitchen felt almost too normal. Like it was a usual occurrence for him to be standing in his socks, making grilled sandwiches in your kitchen.

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you almost jumped when he turned around, freezing his movement for a second before he registered that it was you sitting there and not some kind of intruder.

“Fuck, didn’t hear you come back.” He said, a little wide eyed.

He placed a plate of one grilled cheese sandwich in front of you and you stared. Your stomach rumbled at the sight of it and you vaguely remembered the last time you’d eaten was hours ago.

“You made me grilled cheese?” You asked, voice smaller than you would’ve liked it to be. Because… huh?

Steve gave you a look that screamed obviously, why would I not? Like it was a given that he’d make you food. Like you were crazy for thinking that he’d do anything else but take care of you. It felt like you had somehow struck your head harder on the rubble and dropped down to an alternate reality where Steve was actually being nice to you.

“Yeah, hope you don’t mind…” He trailed off, looking a little out of place all of a sudden. He swirled around and located a mug that was steaming, placing it in front of you. “I made you tea.”

It smelled like camomile and it made you stare into the mug like it was an alien. You looked up at Steve and narrowed your eyes a little in contemplation.

This was the same man that would take every opportunity given to fight with you. Who would push when you pulled and who’d spent the last year making your life a living hell. Not to say that you hadn’t returned the sentiment, you were just as much of an asshole as he was and it was a wonder that Javier ever tolerated the two of you in the same room. Which was every day.

“Thank you.” You said, and you really meant it.

Steve gave you a look and turned around again. You didn’t realise what that look meant until he’d brought a chair around to sit opposite side of you by the counter with his own mug of coffee and sandwich.

Of course you’d say that, because when has ‘thank you’ ever been in your fucking vocabulary. That’s what he had said earlier today in the car. It made you feel a little ashamed when you recalled just how many times Steve’d had your back without you stopping to realise it or worse: Thanking him for it. All you had ever done was repay him with your snark.

That’s why you both worked so well together out on the streets. You both had each others backs no matter what.

“Hey, um.” You paused and averted your eyes to look at the steam wafting up from the mug. Steve was looking at you, you could see it from your peripheral vision and it made you nervous. “I’m sorry. About today.”

And every other time. Maybe you were too fucking proud.

“You don’t have to do that.” Steve said, voice low and you pulled your gaze up to meet his. “There’s no need.”

You huffed out a frustrated breath, “Yes I do. Look, I was an asshole and you know it. I fucked everything up and you did nothing but help me.”

“You didn’t fuck anything up.” He said, knitting his eyebrows.

You tried not to let the blues of his eyes distract you, averting your eyes yet again to pick your sandwich up just so your hands would stop seeking each other out in that annoying wringing motion you always did as a nervous habit.

“Hey, if anything, I should apologise for saying that. The snake bastard was gonna slip away from our hands whether you had fallen or not. So don’t… don’t dwell on it. What’s done is done.”

What’s done is done. Wasn’t that the truth.

“Now eat your sandwich, gotta re-dress that thing after.” He nodded at your upper arm where the sad excuse of a bandage was holding on for dear life after absorbing so much water from the shower.

You both finished your meal rather quickly, and Steve urged you to finish drinking your tea because it helps with the headache, I swear it. You weren’t too sure about that, but he sounded convincing enough.

After downing some painkillers, you settled on the couch after going on a hunt for your trusty old first aid kit. Steve grabbed it from your hands and ignored your half-assed protests when you saw him pull it open to dig through it.

You insisted that you could do it on your own, but quickly shut up when Steve glared at you. You didn’t have the energy to fight him.

There was a silence as he redressed your cut, cleaning it up and murmuring sorries when you flinched at the sting. He was patient though, a concentrated look on his face as he worked meticulously. There was a gentleness to him, hands soft and face relaxed.

You knew that he could probably tell that you were staring at him, but if he knew then he didn’t show it. He was kind enough to let you ogle him without calling you out on it, but there was a small quirk of the corner of his lip that told you that he found it amusing.

“Quit squirmin’.” He admonished you softly, glancing up at you and you blew out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in.

The fall must’ve really messed with your head because what the hell was wrong with you? This was Steve.

“There, all done.” He straightened his back and you didn’t think too hard on why you felt disappointed when he moved back from your close proximity.

“Thank you.” You said again, and once more, Steve looked surprised. It was a fleeting, subtle look but you caught it. And fuck was it starting to embarrass you. “What? I’m showing my gratitude.”

You expected him to shoot back with something that would start up an argument, like it always did. What you didn’t expect was for him to crack a smile, aimed at you. It was so rare to have it right in your face, crinkles by the eyes and lips pulled up prettily. It startled you.

“Whatever.” You said around a smile that you couldn’t keep from your face. “I’m going to bed so you can see yourself out. I have a spare key by the door that you can use to lock up.”

You stood up and tried to ignore the way Steve shot a hand out to grab at your hip in a way to steady your wobbling. It wasn’t so much a grab as a gentle whisper of a touch, but it was unexpected enough to turn your stomach around.

“You keep your spare by the d —?” He stopped himself from chewing you out by the sheer stupidity of it, shaking his head gently. “I’m staying here, nice try, sweetheart. You need someone to monitor you.”

You could’ve put up a fight, scold him for being so stubborn and push him out the door with whatever strength you had left in your body. But the gears in your sore head were turning, blood rushing to your head because Steve had called you sweetheart. It had always been some unpleasant nicknames and your last name coming out of his mouth when he addressed you. He’d only ever called you sweetheart once, way back in an argument and you’d given him hell for being so condescending.

What you’d felt then and what you felt now were complete opposite feelings and it caused a turmoil in your body.

“Fine.” You bit out, a delayed response and it made Steve narrow his eyes a little curiously.

You took a few short steps to your bedroom, not quite feeling like you wanted to leave Steve alone. Not that he’d do something, but it was a new feeling to want to be around him rather than in a different room than him.

He sat back on the couch and looked at you with his legs a little splayed out. It took everything you had not to squirm where you were standing outside your bedroom door. Where the fuck did these weird feelings come from?

“Want me to come tuck you in?” He asked when you lingered a little too long by the door, amusement lacing his voice.

“Who knew there was a sense of humour beneath all that grump?” You feigned shock.

Steve flipped you off lazily and you let out a laugh.

“See you in two hours.” You wiggled your fingers in goodbye and slipped into your bedroom, heart pounding a little harder than you’d like to admit.

You welcomed the softness of your bed with open arms, splaying yourself out on your stomach and pushing your arms beneath your pillow. There was no mistaking the sleepiness creeping up your body, making your eyelids heavy.

There was no telling how long you were out for, but it didn’t feel like enough when you were woken up from your dead sleep by something touching your arm. You blinked your eyes blearily and turned your head to find your partner hovering over you.

It took a few seconds for your brain to catch up because your first thought was what the fuck is Steve Murphy in my bedroom? but then the pounding of your head made itself known and you croaked out an ow.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire when you turned on your back, pulling your covers up to your chin in a poor effort to hold onto your sleep.

Steve tsked with a growing smile on his face and pulled at the covers a little when he realised that you were trying to go back to sleep.

“None of that.” He scolded you, handing you something and you squinted in the dimmed room. Water and your medicine.

“Nurse Murphy.” You joked, heaving yourself up slowly with your back against the headboard. You let out a pained moan when the room suddenly started spinning, an ache making itself very known on the back of your head.

“You alright?” Steve’s voice was cautious, worried when he saw how your facial expression changed from pained to alert in barely a second.

You opened your mouth to speak and was hit by a wave of nausea, throwing your covers off your body and pushing Steve out of the way because fuck, you were on a mission to not vomit all over your bed and the poor man.

The slam of the door rattled your brain but you were too focused on bending over the toilet seat, heaving until your stomach twisted in discomfort.

“Fuck,” you groaned out loud when you’d caught your breath, reaching shakily for the handle and flushing.

You vaguely heard Steve knock on the door, asking if you were okay and you made a noise in your throat that you hoped said yeah give me a minute. A quick brush of the teeth, a deep rinse and a gurgle of mouthwash and you felt a little bit better. Good enough to open the door and walk out.

Steve was sitting on the foot of your bed, looking a little troubled. You observed him for a second, and took in the room now that you were more alert and awake.

The curtains were drawn shut and you realised that it must’ve been Steve being considerate before he woke you up, because you didn’t remember drawing them shut. You didn’t know how to feel about that, so you set that thought aside to mull over for another day.

“Did you go home?” You asked, noticing his damp hair and clothing change.

He must’ve slipped out to clean himself up when you were out cold, and he confirmed your assumption by a nod of the head. Whereas before he had his jeans, blue t-shirt and signature brown leather jacket, he’d gone for something much comfortable. He was still in his jeans, a pair of blue ones and he’d changed his shirt to one with a collar and the top buttons unbuttoned. He looked good.

You silently walked over and sat on the bed, hearing it creak.

“Y’need me to a call a doctor?” He asked, eyes roaming your face for any sign of discomfort. “Or Javier?”

That got a smile out of you.

“No, I’m alright.” You held yourself back from rolling your eyes when he raised his eyebrows a little. “I’m not being too proud, I really am okay. Doc said this would happen, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

Steve blew out a breath through his mouth and nodded.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” He gestured with a limp hand toward your nightstand. “Take your medicine, and then back to bed.”

You obliged him, still feeling a little sluggish when you crawled back under the covers. There were no words exchanged and you didn’t say anything when he helped you draw the covers over you, but he saw your poorly hidden smile.

“Shut up.” He murmured, with no real heat behind it.

“You’re a good nurse.” You said earnestly, with only a little laughter in your voice. “Seems like you chose the wrong career, Murphy.”

Steve’s eyebrows jumped in playful disbelief, still hovering over you.

“You calling me a shit agent?”

You smiled, “If the shoe fits.”

You watched him shake his head, like he was holding back from something that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“You’re insufferable.” He laughed and you nodded.

“So I’ve been told.” You sighed a little, wiggling further into the mattress.

The next time you were woken up, it had gone dark and it took a second for you to adjust to the light when Steve clicked the bedside lamp on. You blinked rapidly and pulled the covers over your head. There was no telling if the man laughed at that, the covers rustled too much but you were pretty sure that you could hear his chuckling.

“You feeling alright?” He asked and you sighed.

“How many times are you gonna ask me that, Steve?” You sounded exasperated, not giving him your face to look at as you continued to hide beneath the covers.

There was a silence that stretched for a little too long and you suddenly worried that you might’ve sounded a little too mean. A little shame pierced your heart all of a sudden and you pulled the fabric back to reveal your eyes to him. He was still standing there but he didn’t look angry or like he was gearing up for a fight. He looked a little shocked. Baffled maybe.

“What?” You asked, suddenly worried.

“You called me Steve.” He replied and you raised your brows.

That was his name, wasn’t it? You frowned.

“I always call you Steve.”

“You absolutely do not.” He suddenly gave an amused huff of laughter. “Always Murphy. Or fuckwad. Or asshole. Or—“

Your over the top groan cut him off and you stuck a leg out to kick him in the thigh. He jumped back with a laugh and you tried not to feel too wounded at that. His reflexes had always been better than yours. But you were the better shot so you had that going, at the very least.

“You’re an asshole.” You muttered lowly and Steve nodded.

“That’s more like it.”

You bit back a shut up, and placed the palm of your hand on the mattress to help you sit up in bed.

It was very dark outside, and you guessed that it must’ve been past midnight. Steve must’ve let you sleep in for longer, not waking you every two hours like planned. You didn’t ask about it, but if you did then he definitely would’ve lied. He would’ve spun a lie about how you probably needed the sleep.

Truth was, he had been dozing on your couch and watching shit TV, checking the clock obsessively and cracking your door open to make sure you were okay every hour. He didn’t want to wake you, but there was a slight worry that just wouldn’t let him rest when you’d fallen off the roof and that worry had only reached new heights when you got sick in the toilet.

He sat down on the edge of your bed and nodded at the steaming mug on the bedside table.

“Javi came by and dropped this,” he said, tracking your move when you picked the mug up. He averted his eyes when you pursed your lips and put them to the edge of the mug, dragging the palms of his sweaty hands against his sweatpant clad thighs. “Some miracle Colombian tea that’s supposedly good for concussions.”

Your lips stretched into a smile.

“Who knew Javier Peña could be so superstitious?”

Steve blew out a breath of laughter from his nose and shook his head at the thought. You took a careful sip and regarded him from the rim of the mug. He looked exhausted and tense, eyes a little puffy from the lack of sleep and he only made it more evident when he hung his head a little and brought his fingers to press them to his eyes. Like he was trying to rub some life into them.

You knew that gesture, had seen it a million times when you pulled late nights at the office. The embassy had been on your ass lately, and things had taken an insane and intense turn when Search Bloc got thrown into the mix. Carrillo was no joke, but you were all determined.

“Hey, you should get some sleep.” You said gently.

It was late and it had been a long day. You didn’t want to inconvenience him any further than you had.

“It’s fine.” He waved you off. “I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

That made you frown deeper because you knew that couch was a couch from hell. It was springy, and could take your back from feeling amazing to sore in an hour. Your armchair was a little better, but a man as tall and wide as Steve would never find a comfortable position in it.

You knew that realistically, you could’ve sent him on his way and let him sleep in his own bed. That’s probably what you should’ve done considering everything.

What you did instead was probably a bit out of line, but you tried not to think too hard about it when you placed the mug down on the side table and reached back to push the covers back a little.

Steve followed your movements silently and gave you a questioning glance.

“You can sleep here.” You said, a slight shake in your voice.

Steve opened his mouth at that but quickly shut it when he didn’t seem to find the right words. You could see the cogs turning as he regarded you silently, probably wondering exactly how hard you’d hit your head. It wasn’t something you could blame him for. If someone had told you that you’d offer Steve to sleep in your bed with you earlier today, you’d have punched them square in the nose for even bringing such an outrageous imagery to your mind.

Maybe you were tired, maybe it had been a little too long since you’d had another human being in the same bed as yours. Someone who could provide comfort and warmth and make you feel like you weren’t sleeping with one eye open.

“You sure?” He asked gently, just in case you’d managed to change your mind in the span of a few seconds.

Don’t fucking read into it, was what you probably would’ve said if it was the old you. The one who’d fight him on everything.

What you did say, was something you hoped was reassuring enough for him to get into bed and to stop him from looking at you with those fucking blue eyes of his. “I’m sure.”

There was a drawn out silence as he navigated around the bed, gingerly sitting down on the other side and you carefully averted your eyes to avoid his when he laid down beside you. It was clear that he didn’t want to push any boundaries by yanking the bedding over him as well, content with laying on his back and giving you the covers but it felt… wrong. So you covered his legs and sighed like it wasn’t a weird thing to do.

Because it was weird, wasn’t it?

“This is…” Steve trailed off, but you knew he was mirroring your thoughts and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

He gave a smile of his own when you turned to nod at him.

“It is.” You agreed. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going soft on me, Murphy.”

He let out an unattractive snort that made you smile, sinking down into the bed so you were on your back.

“And here I thought we were finally becoming friends.” He turned on his side and gave you a half smile.

You didn’t know why that tilt of his lips jarred you, but it reached deep into your bones and you found yourself unable to look away from his lips.

A sigh escaped your lips and you tugged the covers up a bit more in a poor attempt to eradicate the sudden butterflies in your stomach.

“Friends.” You muttered with a ghost of a smile on your lips. “Is that what we are?”

Steve hummed, causing you to glance at him from the corner of your eye. He looked to be contemplating it and you suddenly wished that you could reach into his mind and pull out every thought that was going through it.

It was a new feeling. Never had you ever felt like even hearing what was going through his head because you didn’t have an interest for it. Whatever you needed to know, you could read it in his body language and in his eyes. The man wore his heart on his sleeve and he probably didn’t know about it. There was so much you could get just by observing him.

“I’d say we’re on the right track.” He finally replied. “We’re not fighting, haven’t been for the last… Six hours.”

That got a startled laugh out of you and it seemed to please Steve because he grinned as he settled back in bed again, eyes up on the ceiling.

It was outrageous, but true. The two of you could hardly go an hour without arguing. Javier had once pointed out that it wasn’t malice but rather sexual tension and you’d punched his arm so hard that he’d yelped. He never brought it up again.

The thought of it being sexual attraction rather than anything else between you made you panic a little.

“I’m sorry.” Steve said, breaking the comfortable silence and that caused you to turn your head to look at him.

He mirrored your movement.

“For what?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“For being a dick.” He squinted his eyes in the dim light, like he was struggling to find the exact words he wanted to say. “I haven’t gone easy on you, from the moment we met until today. And you were being nothing but nice to me that first day.”

You had been. Polite rather. But Steve hadn’t given you the time of day and you weren’t perfect; You held grudges and could be kind of petty when there was no need. With Steve and his short temper, and your own issues? It was only natural for the two of you to clash.

“I haven’t been nice either, you know.” You pointed out and Steve placed an elbow on the mattress and rested his head on the open palm of his hand.

“I guess we both have been pretty shit.” He said and you nodded, because yeah. You had been. “I think you intimidate me.”

That got a laugh out of you. The thought of Steve Murphy being intimidated of you was so absurd. But the man wasn’t looking like he was kidding and you raised your brows.

“You’re kidding.” You smiled. “Why would you be intimidated by me?”

“Because.” He said like it was obvious, huffing out a laugh when you frowned; Feeling completely lost. “Fucking look at you. You came walking in with your head held high and you’re headstrong, ready for anything and anyone. There’s not a single soul in that office who’d dream of going against you.”

You groaned in disbelief, bringing your hands up to cover your face because you were starting to feel warm all of a sudden. Receiving so many compliments from the same man who’d given you nothing but grief the past year was overwhelming.

“No, really.” He insisted. “You’re so confident in everything you do. And you’re gorgeous and so fucking stubborn.”

That had you separating your fingers over your face, just enough to look at him through the gaps. Gorgeous? Surely you were dreaming. This wasn’t real.

But he was looking at you like he meant every word he had said and you weren’t sure how to feel. It made it all so confusing and odd, but it also made a warmth settle in the pit of your stomach; A feeling you hadn’t felt in years. It was simultaneously both terrifying and thrilling.

“Thank you.” You said softly, muffled into your hands and that had Steve smiling from where you could see him.

“You need to stop thanking me or it’ll get to my head.” He joked, probably to break the forming tension and you felt a pang of gratitude at that gesture.

“We wouldn’t want that.” You said, ignoring the small hitch in your voice when he reached out with his free hand to pry your hands off your face. He didn’t let go, stretching one hand out between you two and sliding his fingers between yours in a strangely intimate manner. “Your head is already too big. Won’t fit through the door.”

He laughed and it prompted a giggle out of you.

The conversation that took place for the next hour was gentle, intimate and it felt so natural that you never wanted it to stop. You talked about the little things that you probably would’ve known about each other way earlier if you’d skipped the animosity and became friends instead. Your respective families back home, your childhood, hobbies and everything in between.

It still felt strange but it also made you see him in an entirely new light. He looked relaxed and even happy, eyes tired from the long day and late night, hand still playing idly with your fingers where it laid between you. It was… pillow talk, minus the sex.

Your conversation drifted to a stop when your eyes were starting to droop, yawns interrupting your sentences until Steve eventually took pity. He scooted closer to you and you regarded him silently, wondering what he was about to do. There was a slight disappointment settling in your chest when you realised that he was, in fact, reaching for the lamp on your side of the bed and not reaching to kiss you.

It was an odd thought to have, but you would be a liar if you said that you hadn’t thought of it through the night.

Him reaching for the lamp put him in close proximity of you though, and a zip of heat shot down your spine when you realised that he’d reached over you and put himself half on top of you in the process.

You blinked up at his face, close to yours, feeling rather awake all of a sudden and you only had a few seconds to take in every little fleck and scar on his face, the blue of his eyes, before he turned the light off and plunged the room into relative darkness.

The moon was providing enough light through your small window for you to make out the shape of his face, and your lips parted of their own volition when his eyes suddenly flicked down and looked right at you. He’d finally realised the position he’d put you both in, a breath away from each others faces and torsos awkwardly pressed together and you watched his eyes flick from one of your own eyes to the other.

You tried to suck in a breath, not even realising that you had been holding it in, but it was stolen right out of you when Steve suddenly closed the minimal distance between the two of you.

The press of his lips was soft, but you felt it all the way down to your toes. It took you by surprise, but you collected your thoughts and pulled yourself together quickly enough to reach up with your hand to grab at his hair when you felt like he was about to pull away at your lack of reaction.

It was like that one movement of your hands was the trigger, because he fell into you and pried your lips open with his; A breathy moan being exhaled into your mouth and you gasped at the hotness of it.

He kissed you until you felt like your lips were starting to chap, pulling away to catch his breath and allowing you to catch yours. Your head was spinning, the intensity of it all surprising but not unwelcome.

You brought a hand around to span over his jaw and neck, thumb stroking the plump bottom lip of his.

“You okay?” You asked, a little breathless.

The question seemed to catch him off guard, and he pulled back his head far enough to look you in the eyes. As if he was searching for the answer in them.

“Yeah,” he nodded slightly, running his fingers through the strands at the top of your head. The feel of it made you shiver slightly. “Are you?”

You nodded mutely, beckoning him closer by the use of your hands and you couldn’t help but notice how easily he fell into you without hesitation. It made you smile against his lips, your hands drifting lower to his back and grabbing at the material of his shirt. The sound he made against your mouth had you clutching desperately at him, seeking out his hand to guide it under your sleep shirt.

“Oh fuck,” he cursed quietly when his palm closed over the flesh of your breast. He squeezed until you moaned, arching your back into his hand. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

You let out a breathy laugh, pulling back long enough to look at him but that didn’t last long, eyes fluttering shut of their own volition when his thumb brushed over your perky nipple.

“Oh, Steve.” You whimpered and it was like music to his ears.

That one small sound out of your mouth paired with his name had him going lightheaded in a second, all the blood rushing south and he had to remind himself that it couldn’t go further than this. Not tonight at least. You were still recovering from your concussion and he didn’t want to push it.

So, he mustered up all the strength in his body to pull himself up, heart squeezing in his chest when your lips followed him. Like you weren't ready to let him go, and you really weren't.

“You need sleep, sweetheart.” He said gently, hoping that you wouldn’t take it as rejection.

You pouted at him, aware that you probably looked a bit childish doing it but you couldn’t help it. He stroked the pad of his thumb over your cheek softly and you sighed, nodding in understanding.

“I know.” You agreed finally, heart nudging up your throat when he leaned down to press a kiss to your mouth.

Steve laid back down, but he was closer than before and it made something warm settle in your chest. He didn’t protest when you rolled over to cuddle into his side, preening a little at the comfort of his chest and the feel of his arm around you.

It was the safest you’d felt since you moved here.

And that’s probably why you fell into oblivious sleep faster than you ever had.

Monday rolled around and that meant real life was back in order, forcing you out of your little bubble of bliss you’d managed to create during the weekend with Steve. He’d been oddly domestic and sweet, not pushing for anything and settling with the odd kiss here and there as he made you dinner and ran you baths. He’d remain respectful through those too, opting to sit on the tiled floor and very pointedly not look at your naked body as the two of you carried pleasant conversations and gentle kisses.

Javier stopped by on both Saturday and Sunday, both times when Steve had gone out to get food or a change of clothes. It was weirdly lucky timing, but you were happy to avoid the inevitable questions that would surely come along with Javier and his undying curiosity.

The office was just as you’d left it on Friday, everyone bustling around and working as they always did. Carrillo wasn’t in his office from what you could see as you walked past, but your two partners were sitting by their desks as you approached them.

Both of them glanced up, but only one of them spoke up.

“Hey, welcome back.” Javier gave you a nod.

“Thanks,” you dropped your bag under your desk and draped your jacket over your chair, trying very hard to remain natural. “Busy morning?”

You glanced around.

“Nah,” Javi grunted. “Should’ve just stayed home for another day.”

That made you break your resolve, stealing a glance at Steve who’d been sitting quietly on the other side of the desk. He was looking at you and you both shared a glance before you made a little noise in your throat and looked away.

“One more day at home and I’d go stir crazy.” You said, like you hadn’t been spending it with the very same man who everyone thought you loathed.

“Sure.” Javier murmured lowly, absentmindedly. His eyes were locked on a piece of paper in his hands and you took that as your chance to get out of the conversation.

You turned and started walking toward the small kitchenette where they kept the good coffee machines, suddenly craving caffeine because something told you that it was gonna be a long day. You revelled in the silence of the empty room when you walked in, hunting down a clean mug and locating the coffee beans.

The hum of your colleagues out in the office was a comforting sound, tapping your nails against the counter and watching the machine work to spit out piping hot coffee into your mug.

You had exactly two seconds to react to the hand that grabbed your waist, heart rate spiking dangerously before the familiar scent of cologne hit your nose. It was curious, how much that one detail calmed you down from your fight or flight response.

“Jesus, Steve.” You hissed out quietly, turning in his arms when he placed both hands on either side of you on the counter; Effectively caging you in. “Way to give me a heart attack.”

The man leaned closer to your face and smiled, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before pressing a kiss against the skin there. You bit back a smile.

“I like it when you call me Steve.” He said, voice low and intimate.

You brought both your hands up and placed them on his pecs, feeling the hard muscle beneath the layers of clothing he wore. It was probably your imagination or even wishful thinking, but you swore you could almost feel his heartbeat picking up speed.

“That’s your name, idiot.” You laughed, not meanly because there was a fondness to your smile that Steve had come to know and adore.

He pressed forward, brushing his lips against yours in a teasing manner until you had enough of it, chasing his lips when he pulled away with a laugh.

“Greedy.”

“Shut up.” You whispered, tilting your head and slotting your mouth against his.

The kiss definitely wasn’t the most passionate one out of all the ones you’d shared during the weekend. But it still made your knees weak all the same, heat pricking your scalp when he pushed forward and put the majority of his weight on you. The hard plane of his body made you feel feverish, and you let out a small moan into his mouth that made Steve’s skin pimple in goosebumps.

A distinct ringing of a telephone reminded you of where you were and you gently pushed him off, glancing over his shoulder and sighing in relief when you noted that you were still the only people in the room.

Steve wasn’t even looking, too busy taking in the plumpness of your lips and he had to stop himself from puffing his chest in pride at the sight of your smeared lipstick.

He brought a thumb up to clean it off and you blinked at him, feeling your insides go soft at the small gesture.

“You want some coffee?” You asked softly, turning in his arms and he pushed off the counter to stand beside you instead.

No, just you. But he didn’t say that, pushing his mug forward a bit on the counter instead.

He watched you pour the coffee into both mugs, studying your side profile quietly as you prepared the coffee. You looked adorable, and his fingers itched to grab at every part of you. But he knew that he had to contain himself. There was no way that he’d ever break the one rule you’d decided to set.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Can we keep this on the downlow?" You'd asked on Sunday morning, hands crossed over each other where they laid on his chest, chin resting on them.

It had been quiet, serene and Steve had gotten only a little distracted by your lips and the way the light seemed to catch perfectly in your eyes. You'd looked downright angelic and it was only when your lips tugged in a small and shy smile that he realised you'd asked him a question.

"Sure." He'd agreed easily, letting the palms of his hands stroke up the sides of your body, as if he was trying to memorise every curve of your body.

"It's just that..." You trailed off, adjusting yourself where you laid between the long expanse of his legs. "I don't want people to talk, you know?"

He knew exactly what you meant. You'd worked hard to be where you were and there was no doubt that you'd start to get treated differently if they found out about the two of you. He respected you too much to do anything but agree with your boundaries.

"Hey," he murmured gently, bringing a hand up to smooth down your hair. "I'll do whatever you want me to."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve snapped out of his little daydream when you suddenly turned and gave him an award winning smile and he had time to think of how fucking lucky he was to see that directed at him, before you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. You wiped your thumb across his lip, most likely a poor attempt to wipe the evidence off him, and walked out with your coffee.

He collected his scattered thoughts, blinking down at his mug and he was surprised to find that you’d taken the time to make him his coffee exactly how he liked it. Fuck.

“Hey, Javi.” He heard you greet the man sweetly who’d most likely stepped into the kitchenette, hearing him grunt in response.

Steve had managed to collect himself when Javier appeared in his field of view, pouring hot coffee into his mug casually and shooting the blond man a strange look.

“What?” Steve asked defensively.

Javier looked to be biting back a smile, looking a little bit too smug for Steve’s hackles not to rise.

“Nice lipstick.” Javier complimented him. “What shade is that?”

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