"The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story. It changes the relationship of two people much more strongly than even the final surrender; because this kiss already has within it that surrender."

― Emil Ludwig

The Avengers Christmas party had reached the height of drunken debauchery, and like any event involving Tony Stark a considerable amount of alcohol had been consumed by all the guests. Natasha and Clint were found at the bar shotting vodka, and Natasha was now feeling the effects of her favourite spirit. Surveying the party around her she observed how the music and people now swirled and curled into a menagerie of colours, however with much concentration she managed to identify every Avenger within the room, with one exception. Steve. She knew that Steve was not one for large parties but she had hoped that it would ease the loneliness that may occupy the soldier's mind, at a time that was renowned for family and friends, a considerable amount he unfortunately left in the past. Looking to her left she noted that Clint was far more worse for wear than she, as he attempted to discreetly leer at a shapely blonde, however he failed catastrophically allowing discreet to fall to the wayside. She smirked to herself amused at the drunk Clint before her, he always claimed he could drink her under the table, he never could. Grabbing two shots of vodka, she made her way towards the quietest area of the party, the balcony, ripping the mistletoe from the ceiling on her way. Opening the door she let the fresh cold air hit her and beheld the suited silhouette, that was Steve Rogers, leant over the railings observing the night's sky,

"Hey Captain, thought you might need a drink to warm you up." Steve turned to view Natasha as she swayed drunkenly towards him, she wasn't out of control but he could tell she was well on her way. Placing herself next to him she pulled out the shots, accompanied by a hushed,

"Tadah!" Steve rolled his eyes but simultaneously allowed an amused smirk to grace his lips,

"Nat is this really necessary? I can't even get drunk!" Natasha pushed the shot into Steve's hand, in doing so her drunken momentum brought her unceremoniously close to Steve, allowing him to bask in the rich and alluring scent of her perfume as well as the alarming heat that radiated from her alabaster skin,

"You may not get drunk but you sure as hell will still feel the burn Rogers!" Steve let a small laugh escape his lips, and for a brief moment Natasha was entranced by the adorable dimples that graced his cheeks when he laughed or smiled. The way his gorgeous azure eyes sparkled in the radiating light from the building behind them, she had never noticed them before and she cursed herself for not doing so. If there was a pair of eyes she could get lost in, these would be the ones she'd choose,

"Nat...?" Steve's voice brought her back from her inebriated trance and a wide smile captured her features causing her whole face to light up. It was very rare to see Natasha this animated, and although Steve was worried for her safety and health in this state he liked how it made her more expressive, as if a part of her mask had crumbled away just enough to provide the right onlookers an insight into the woman behind Black Widow,

"Right, after three... one, two, three." Both Steve and Natasha quickly brought the shot glasses to their lips and threw their heads back allowing the clear, toxic spirit to make its way down their throats. Steve felt his face contort and grimace as he winced at the burning sensation, however Natasha seemed unaffected and after contemplating on what to do with the shot glass, she threw it forcefully towards the ground allowing it to smash and disperse over the floor. After Steve had managed to control his facial expressions and the burning sensation had ebbed away he exclaimed,

"Woah! Nat was that really necessary?" Looking up at him from under her long dark lashes, she let her most mischievous and seductive grin take hold of her features, causing his mouth to fall slightly agape. Her verdant eyes gleamed naughtily and her cheeks were flushed with the most enchanting crimson bloom, a stark contrast to her porcelain skin. She was hauntingly beautiful. His thoughts were interrupted when Natasha bumped into his side,

"Oh lighten up Rogers! It's Christmas!" As Natasha leaned into him he noted how she was wearing a tight, black, strapless dress that enhanced her delicious curves and showed the delicate pale skin leading up to her neck, gliding over her alluring collar bone. He soon observed that she had goose bumps and started to remove his jacket,

"You're cold, here..." Turning back to face her, she dipped her head slightly forward allowing Steve to cloak his jacket around her shoulders, before pulling it tightly in the front ensuring that she was encapsulated by its warmth. His warmth. She glanced back up at him with those precious emerald eyes, and he saw how her expression had softened considerably, as had her swaying, and now her gaze bore into his enveloping them in a desire to be closer than they already were,

"You're something special Steve." Steve now sported a slanted smirk at this comment, enjoying the fact it came from her lips a lot more than he should,

"Thanks Nat." Steve tried to procure the appropriate compliment to pay her back with, however his mind was now in a state of panic and every comment he thought of he felt was too much for this moment. However Steve was cut short when Natasha spoke again,

"I almost forgot your early Christmas present." With that from underneath his jacket she produced a sprig of mistletoe,

"Merry Christmas Steve." Her voice sounded like liquid velvet and despite every instinct in his body screaming no and the heat that had now rushed to his cheeks, he felt himself lean forward ever so slightly,

"Nat..." He had meant for her name to come out as more of a warning however it had came out as more of a lustful whine as he felt his eyes travel to her rose bud lips,

"Steve..." She whispered back to him with the burning undertones of desire heating his name, creeping forward she placed her hands either side of his waist, dropping the mistletoe, and tip toed bringing her lips to his. As their lips met he felt as if a thousand fireworks had erupted within his chest, at first the kiss was slow and chaste with Natasha taking the lead. But as Steve felt the emotions he had for so long buried overcome him, his hands found their way into her hair and cupping her face pulled her closer towards him, inciting deeper more passionate kisses that burned his lips. She tasted like vodka and honey, and Natasha felt herself fall into his touch enraptured by the masculine smell of his aftershave, he tasted like cinnamon and ginger and she wanted nothing more than this moment to last forever. Finally their lips parted, however their hands stayed where they were and their foreheads rested against each other, allowing them to still enjoy the physical contact and presence of the other, without giving into the fear of each other's physical absence in this moment. Their breathes were laboured and heavy but they both felt the unequivocal spark that they had never explored until this very moment, Steve moved his head away from hers and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. His mind swam with everything he wanted to say to her, that he had hoped this moment would come someday; that she had captured him body and soul in a spell he could never break; and that he felt the burning possibility that he loved her, instead his mind provided him with the mirror to her words, returning his gaze back to hers he hushed,

"Merry Christmas Natasha."