Steve Rogers makes the best pillow. There's no way around it. You absolutely loved snuggling up with him on cold evenings like this, where the snow is falling outside your house, the fire is roaring, and the radio is on, playing music from his time. You both are curled up on the sofa, you listening to Steve hum along to the tunes as he runs his hand up and down your spine.

You place a small kiss on the crook of his neck, sighing contentedly. "I miss days like this. Where we do absolutely nothing."

Steve pulls you closer, arm resting on the small of your waist. His other hand resting on his chest over yours. "Me, too. We should take all of our vacation days."

"What could we possibly do with 254 vacation days? We wouldn't know what to do with ourselves after working five years straight."

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hairline. "I could think of a few things to keep us busy." His hand rests against your hip, rubbing soothing circles there.

"Steven Grant Rogers, you have a dirty mind." You playfully swat his hand away from your hip, turning onto your side to face him. "But I do love you. I'd love to spend vacation days with you." He pulls you in for a kiss, both of you closing your eyes into it. "But the world might fall apart without it's Captain."

He groans. "They can find someone else. I quit."

Just as he begins to make out with you again, the phone rings. Knowing it's probably duty calling, Steve sighs, pulling back from you. "Told ya," you chuckle, kissing his jaw. Both you and Steve get up from the sofa, getting back into your work gear.

"I'm completely serious about that vacation, though."