Characters: reader, Steve.

Summary: After a night of drinking, you stumble into your apartment in the arms of the hottest man you've ever seen. This stranger is full of surprises, you come to learn as the night progresses. (Steve AU)

Warnings: drinking, mentions of sex, a ton of fluff, the tiniest bit of angst if you squint.

Word Count: 2.2k

Song Inspiration: Can I Stay by Ray LaMontagne

A/N: I was having a rough time at work last week, so I decided to binge-listen to Ray LaMontagne, who has the most soothing and gorgeous voice. "Can I Stay" started to play and I had this vivid image of Soft Steve, so I put it on repeat and this story developed. I really hope you love it. Any and all feedback is appreciated, as always. I adore you guys. <3

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The moment your turn of the key unlocked the door, strong arms were around you again, pressing your back against the inside wall as you struggled to remove the key and kiss him passionately at the same time. Door finally closed, every possible inch of you was pressed up against his chiseled form of male perfection. You walked in tandem, lips caressing and tongues exploring messily as you pushed the jacket from his broad shoulders. At the same time, he reached around your back to lower the zipper of your dress.

Your shared movement was unsteady, however, feeling your hip bump into the side table before your elbow caught a flower vase, nearly toppling it. Your male companion also grunted in pain as his thigh struck the dining room table. Equal parts lust and alcohol swirled in your veins, making you dizzy. Your skin, previously dewy from the hot New York City summer evening, now felt feverish with desire.

Making your way down the hall, you reached the bedroom and kicked off your heels as large hands reached your backside. Misjudging the distance to the bed, you pulled him down as you fell, causing your waist to strike the edge of the mattress before you both slid down to the floor in a pile of twisted limbs. Having broken apart from your frantic making out, you took a breath and tried to right yourself.

A deep chuckle rumbled from the man beside you. Steve? Yes. Steve released his arms from around you and pushed himself up to sitting with his back against the mattress.

"Well, this isn't going as smoothly as I'd hoped," he said wryly.

Laughing, you shook your head in agreement. The multiple drinks you'd ingested tonight still buzzed in your veins and Steve had a few more than you. Not exactly a recipe for clear-headed decisions. Currently, your dress was tugged down around your hips with one bra strap slipping down your shoulder. Steve's hair was mussed and his belt was unbuckled (by your hands moments ago) with his shirt pulled up to display a delicious, washboard stomach. Your fingers itched to trace the chiseled lines.

"Y/N, I..." he began, then turning to face you. "I really like you. I do. Enough that I think I'd rather remember our time together more than hazy memories. Besides, as much as my mind wants you, I'm not sure the rest of me will cooperate at this point," he admitted with a tinge of color in his cheeks.

Brow furrowed, you sat a moment in confusion before you caught his meaning. "Oh. Well, we don't have to...you know. I like you, too, but I think I'm getting close to the puke-y part of my usual drinking nights anyway," you slurred slightly, even a little relieved. "It's okay."

Steve threaded his fingers with yours. "Rain check?"

You scoffed. "For a drunken one night stand? Sure," you smirked.

"No! I—I mean, for...whatever. Drinks, dinner, anything really. I'd like to see you again. Maybe when I'm seeing only one of you..." he teased, closing one eye and then the other, alternating.

Another laugh escaped you, followed by a sigh. "I'd like that."

Steve slowly propped himself up using the mattress and then got to his feet, testing his steadiness before offering his hand to you. Accepting, you let him assist you but only to sit on the bed. An awkward moment lingered as you struggled to unzip your dress the rest of the way.

"Here," Steve offered, motioning for you to shift away from him on the bed. He succeeded and the dress loosened around your hips.

"Thanks."

Another lingering moment before he spoke. "Would you mind if...I mean, you can absolutely say no," he quickly interjected, "but...can I stay?"

Your eyes shot open at that. "You...want to..."

Steve explained in a tumble of drunken words. "I mean, it's late and I don't think my train is running and it's far and...at least I think the train isn't running. Where are we?" he asked, squinting out the window.

"Yeah. You can stay," you agreed with a shrug. It was most likely he would have stayed anyway in some capacity if something had happened. Unusual circumstances now, but...

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Y/N."

Standing up from the bed, you swayed slightly and let the dress fall to the floor before slipping on your robe and leading him into the living room. You only had to brace yourself with a palm against the wall twice.

"The couch is pretty comfy. Might be small for you, but.." your trailed off, taking in his 6'4" form. Damn, he was tall.

"I don't mind," Steve said with a smile, then plucking a pillow from the couch and crawling down onto the floor. He laid down on his stomach with the pillow propped on his arms as he let out a deep sigh.

Surprised, you took a moment to respond. "Um...there are blankets in the—"

" 'S fine," he mumbled into the pillow as his breathing began to slow already.

Blinking a few times, you processed that sluggishly and decided he could sleep on the floor if he wanted. You wandered back to your room and as tempting as your bed was, you always hated yourself in the morning if you didn't shower the gunk out of your hair and clean your face. It helped sober you up, too.

Freshly showered, you slipped on some underwear and often that was all you slept in during hot summers like this, but given your guest in the next room, you pulled on a thin nightgown and turned the lock to your door, just in case.

Odd as the night had been, you didn't mind the idea of a second chance with Steve. Those possibilities wandered lazily in your mind before you turned on an oscillating fan, crawled under the single bedsheet, and instantly fell asleep.

A few short hours later, you awoke unexpectedly and glanced at your bedside clock. 4:07am. Groaning, you could feel the tendrils of a headache trying to take anchor behind your eyes. Your mouth felt dry and tasted terrible, so for the sake of your morning self, you slipped out of bed and brushed your teeth before walking down the hall toward the kitchen for water and aspirin. You tiptoed past the living room to avoid waking your guest, but on the trip back to your room, your eyes flitted over to the floor beside the couch.

To your surprise, only the pillow remained. Taking a few tentative steps forward, your gaze fell on a pair of jeans on the couch, so wherever your mysterious guest was, he was pants-less. Interesting. Casting your gaze around your dim apartment, it finally fell on a figure by the window. Steve sat at your window seat in the snug white t-shirt from last night and a pair of boxers with his attention upon the book in his hands.

As you crept forward, the book's title became visible: 'Man's Search for Meaning' by Viktor Frankl.

"That's some deep, philosophical reading to handle at 4am," you declared, causing Steve to turn toward you with a swift jerk of his head. Upon seeing you, he relaxed his stance with a smile.

"Um...yeah. It's a favorite, though. Left my copy somewhere, so...hope you don't mind me reading yours. I didn't wake you, did I?" he asked in concern.

You waved him off. "No, no. Not at all. Headache is kicking in so I grabbed some aspirin. And I'm all for sharing books, you're welcome to read it. You passed out pretty hard, I thought you'd still be asleep," you commented, taking a drink of your water. "Finding the floor uncomfortable?"

"It's not that, no. The floor is fine, I'm pretty used to that. It's actually jet lag," Steve said matter-of-factly as he played with the book in his hand.

"Really?" you curiously inquired as you took the last few steps and sat down at the window seat with one knee bent, facing him. This was one of your favorite places to sit and read. In fact it was part of why you chose the apartment when you moved in a year ago. "Where are you coming from?"

"Just finished a tour in Afghanistan. Flew in a few hours ago," he answered, rubbing a hand over his handsome face.

"Wow. Military. Glad you made it back safely," you gingerly responded, a little unsure of what to say.

"Thanks," he breathed out a sigh, then letting the silence linger a moment. "I, um...I wasn't entirely honest with you earlier..." he trailed off then.

"Oh?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah. I mean, yes, I was drunk but probably not as much as I led on. I could have figured out the trains or something, but I didn't really have anywhere else to go and...honestly, I didn't want to be alone," he quietly confessed, finally meeting your eye.

Letting that settle in the air between you, a small part of you felt a little hurt from his admission. Steve must have seen your expression so he rushed on to explain.

"No! I didn't mean that I didn't want to...cause I do. I like you and tonight has turned out 100 times better than I ever expected. I wasn't even looking for a place to crash. I wasn't really looking for anything," he spoke quietly, setting the book aside. "I'm supposed to be staying at my buddy's parent's place for a few months before he gets back and we can find an apartment. My flight got delayed in London, though, and I didn't want to disturb his folks that late when I landed. So I stashed my duffle in a locker at the bus station and just kind of...wandered," he said with a shrug.

You let out an amused smile at that. "You wandered into a dance club? That's one way to pass the time."

He let out a chuckle, the sound causing a flutter in your chest. "Yeah, well...my thoughts were getting a little loud, so I thought the music could drown it out. Then I had a few drinks..."

"And then you bought me a few drinks..."

"And here we are," he finished with a bashful smile. "Anyway, that's probably a lot more information than you were looking for, but...thank you, again, for letting me stay, Y/N," Steve said sincerely with a hand lightly touching your bare knee.

Your heart went out to him. After all he had been through and only just coming home, you could imagine that he felt a little lost. The least you could do was help him feel welcome and safe.

"I don't mind at all," you replied, grasping his hand in yours, "the sharing or the staying."

That gorgeous, sweet smile made another appearance, your stomach flipping in reply. You talked a short while longer, about the book and life and everything in between. Conversation was only interrupted when your body betrayed you with a yawn.

"I'm sorry, I should let you get to sleep," Steve apologized.

The cozy comfort of your bed beckoning, you got to your feet but kept Steve's hand in your grasp. When you gently tugged on it, he stood as well, an eyebrow raised in question. He followed as your bare feet wandered down the hall toward your bedroom where you dropped his hand and crawled across the mattress to lie on the pillow. Steve watched you from the doorway, still confused, until you patted the empty space on the bed beside you.

"I'm not done talking with you. And I don't want to be alone, either," you spoke softly. "Come lay with me."

With a tender expression, Steve followed your direction and rested his head on the pillow, lying on his side to face you. Conversation continued in quiet whispers as Steve's fingers traced patterns on the skin of your bare arm. The comfort of his touch and the soft tone of his voice eventually lulled you back to sleep.

Mid-morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as you dared to part your lashes, then squinting against the brightness. Mind clearing from the fog of sleep, you became aware of the warm body fitted against yours. Through his t-shirt and your thin nightgown, you could feel the rising and falling of his breaths while your arm rested on the muscular plains of his chest. Barely shifting your head as it lay on his shoulder, you took in the stunning lines of Steve's picturesque profile and impossibly long lashes resting on his cheeks.

Content to stay in that position with a heavenly view, you rested your head on his shoulder once again and dozed for a short while. When Steve finally stirred, you woke as well, feeling the surprising intimacy of this moment. You shared short greetings, followed by further cuddling and caressing.

When the touches became more heated, your mouth found his with slow, sensual kisses. The morning was filled with blissful, tender love-making, fulfilling what had begun the night before. Steve was more than worth the wait, especially with clear heads and the memories that would now be tied to him.

Tradition would dictate that a so-called one night stand would conclude with an awkward morning followed by a hasty exit. Instead, you both found yourselves lingering in bed and enjoying the other's company more and more with each passing moment. You didn't know where this was headed, but a large part of you hoped that Steve might continue to stay. Maybe forever.

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Awww, wasn't that so soft and sweet? This is definitely what I needed in my life. Would you let him stay, even if he was a stranger? I truly recommend listening to the song if you haven't, and the book mentioned is amazing as well. Very thought-provoking. Please PLEASE let me know you thoughts!! I love hearing from you. Thank you for taking the time to read this, any feedback is appreciated. Love you all!!