Steve learnt pretty quickly that the fastest way to get Thor out of bed in the morning was to waft the smell of coffee and freshly-warmed poptarts under his nose. It's a tactic he's not above using on weekends when Thor has slept until midday and Steve is itching to get out and do something - especially as they've just managed to get away on their first holiday together. Alone. Not staying in a hostel with their usual gang of friends and staying out all night and sneaking in past curfew, drunk and stupid.
No, this time they have scraped together enough money to rent an apartment for a week, travelling on the cheapest, shittiest flights available, with a highly unreasonable four layovers and no hotels in between, but they're finally in New York, and Steve has so much he wants to show Thor before they head back to England and the new semester starts, but Thor keeps sleeping through the best parts of the day.
Steve sighs as he watches the skyline out the kitchen window beside him, a pang of homesickness hitting him even as he stands in the very city he misses. He's glad of the opportunity to study in England, don't get him wrong, but it will never be home. He sighs, opening the faucet to fill the jug he'd forgotten was in his hand. He sets the coffeemaker going and leans against the counter, watching the city coming alive (or going to sleep in some parts) in front of him.
He's roused from his thoughts by the sound of Thor's feet shuffling into the kitchen behind him, and he's soon encased in warm arms that wrap around his middle, Thor's beard scratching the back of his neck as he leans in to kiss behind Steve's ear.
"You know, it makes me sad that I am becoming used to waking up alone, Steve."
"Hey, I try and wake you when I get up, but you? You sleep like the dead."
Thor laughs, the sound deep and rich and rumbling through Steve's body, sending a shiver down to his toes and back up again. Thor's hands slip under his t-shirt, warm on his belly as they slide upwards until Thor has most of his arms under Steve's clothes, stretching them further out of shape.
"It runs in the family, apparently. Just ask my mother."
Steve wrinkles his nose but leans back to settle against Thor's chest, closing his eyes at the feel of Thor's steady heartbeat.
"No, thanks. I really don't need to picture your parents in bed. I've met them."
"No, I suppose not."
Thor plants more slow kisses along the line of Steve's shoulder, then runs the tip of his nose back the way he came, until he's nudging the back of Steve's ear again, prompting him to turn.
Steve lets Thor move him around completely as their lips meet, his hands still up under Steve's shirt as he presses him into the counter, the cool edge of the granite worktop almost ice-like across his back. Thor's mouth parts eagerly at the first swipe of Steve's tongue, and he's pleasantly surprised to find the taste of mint greeting him as he pushes in past Thor's teeth, letting the slick glide of tongues against one another consume him for a while.
This is exactly the kind of moment that Steve had come on holiday for; lazily making out without having to leap apart the moment they heard a voice in the hallway, letting the coffee burn in the pot while they wrap themselves up in each other.