Author's note: Once again this got all out of hand and far too long. Chapters 26 and 27 were really one long chapter. I split it. I'm rambling now, but it's so fun. A special thanks to my wonderful husband who got me a new laptop for Christmas! My old one was acting herky-jerky and had crashed repeatedly. Onward!
"Thor?" Jane asked.
He wasn't in bed when she woke up, and that wasn't very strange, but she couldn't find him anywhere in the suite. She checked every room, even the spare room that Darcy sometimes slept over in, but he wasn't there.
"Jarvis, can you find him for me?" she asked.
"He is just outside the door, Doctor Foster," Jarvis said.
"Outside the door?" Jane asked, bewildered.
She hurried through the living room and opened the door.
Thor was sitting on the floor in the hallway, his legs crossed and his hands resting in curled fists on his knees. It may have looked somewhat like one of Bruce's yoga poses, but Thor's face was tense and troubled. He was staring at the hallway table which stood in front of the window. Staring at Mjolnir.
"Hon?" Jane asked.
"I have lost it," Thor said lightly.
"It's right there," Jane said.
"I cannot lift it," he clarified.
"You can't lift…What did you do?" Jane asked.
She left her place standing in the doorway and went to bend down over his broad shoulders to hug him. Thor lifted a hand and affectionately pushed back the curtain of her honey brown hair until his view of Mjolnir was no longer obscured.
"I have hurt my brother," he said sadly.
"Loki?"
"No. Steven," Thor corrected her.
"You can't have hurt him much. He was just out shopping with Darcy and Pepper yesterday afternoon. Are you sure that's why you can't lift it? It doesn't make any sense that a few bruises from sparring would take Mjolnir from you. It never has before," Jane pointed out.
She moved around to sit with Thor, both of them in boxer shorts, but Jane additionally wearing one of his large T-shirts. Jane took one of his hands onto her knee and worked at loosening his fist. He allowed her to do so, but she could see that her attempt at soothing him wasn't making much progress.
"There was a little blood, but Steven assured me that he was fine. Jane, tell me how serious an offense it is in your realm for one man to bring relief to another with the mouth. I know that it is no heinous crime, but what if the recipient is morally opposed to such acts?" Thor asked with a troubled brow.
"Whoa," Jane shook her head in startled surprise, "You beat Steve bloody, then you sucked him off?"
"It appears that would be an accurate description," Thor agreed.
"And you're sitting here trying to figure out which offense is the one that caused you to lose your hammer. Thor, sometimes you don't think things out, honey. If he was 'a little bloody', and then said he was 'fine,' then you probably did some serious damage!" Jane fussed.
She pushed back into the suite and ran to get her phone. She returned to Thor's side and sat again. Her left hand rubbed his back in a way that was intended to be comforting, but was too brisk and nervous. Her right thumb worked her phone screen.
"You cannot tell Darcy what happened between myself and Steven. It was a thing between warriors, and not to be repeated lightly," Thor said.
He reached for her phone, but Jane twisted and held it away from him, still texting.
"I won't tell her that. I'm asking her about how Steve looked during their shopping yesterday," Jane said.
Jane batted at Thor's reaching hand until he stopped trying to take her phone.
He was coughing blood for about an hour, and
Darcy replied and sent a picture of Steve's bare and bruised torso. The image was grainy from being taken in a low light setting, but it was clearly Steve, and he was more badly bruised than Jane remembered seeing him anywhere outside of medical. Pepper and some other people were in the background of the picture, looking shocked at the damage to the Captain. Jane showed the image to Thor.
He groaned miserably and rubbed his face with his hands.
"Why were you so rough with him?" Jane asked in a whisper.
"Because it seemed to be what he wanted. I had not thought that he was fragile," Thor said from behind his hands.
"This is Steve Rogers we're talking about! Maybe he wanted a beating for whatever he imagines he's done wrong, but that doesn't mean you can give him one. Of course he's fragile. He's mortal. You were sparring naked, weren't you!? What the hell is going on?" Jane asked.
"I am a fool," Thor lamented.
"Answer me!" Jane demanded.
"We were not naked. We retained our undergarments. Lady Natasha was present for the first part of our encounter. I would not bare myself before another woman were you not there to witness and approve," Thor assured.
"But giving Captain America a blow job is okay?" Jane asked.
Her voice was strident, and Thor had come to expect no less when such matters occurred. His Jane was remarkably accepting of the differing customs between their realms, but rarely had their differences touched upon matters of intimacy.
"It was not an act of passion, Jane. The man was in pain. He had already attempted to alleviate his need- alas, that is not my part to tell, but suffice it to say that he was in pain and in need of assistance. It was over in but half a minute. I am quite skilled with my mouth," Thor said.
He sounded proud.
Jane stared at him with her jaw hanging.
"I know how skilled your mouth is, but I didn't know you used it on men! Why don't you tell me these things?!" she asked.
She brought her thumb back to her phone screen to text again, and this time Thor was successful in removing the phone from her hand.
"It is a matter among warriors, and then only on rare occasions when there is great need. If I had thought you needed to know such things, I would have told you. As you are not a warrior, I see not why it pertains to you," Thor explained with prickly dignity.
Jane gaped at him for a moment and forgot about her phone.
"Would you please explain that? The 'among warriors' part, I mean?" Jane asked with high-pitched false calm.
There had already been so many misunderstandings between them, most of them comical and easily remedied. This was different, though.
"For you, I will explain. But you must assure me that this knowledge will not go beyond the two of us," Thor told her.
"I promise," Jane said.
"The warriors of Asgard are great in stamina and mighty. This is known throughout the realms. What is not known is that our greatness, our berserk savagery in battle, comes at a price. There are times when our enemies do not have the strength or the will to stand and deliver sufficient challenge to a man. If he has already engaged in combat with utmost vigor, yet his need for challenge goes unmet, then a warrior may find himself with excess rage and no outlet to safely expend it. At times this is not a problem when the company is embroiled in long months or years of warfare and the warriors are encamped away from home. However, when a skirmish is intense but short and a man must then go home to gentle society, the lingering rage can be a danger to the innocent. In such cases it is not unknown for a fellow warrior to assist in bleeding off the excess vigor which can make a man a danger to his own people," Thor explained.
"You said rage. What does rage have to do with sex?" Jane asked.
"The easing of rage and the taming of the loins can sometimes be met with the same act," Thor said.
Jane took a moment to imagine hot, rageful warrior sex in the aftermath of battle. Five years ago, she would have thought it crude and distasteful. It was still harsh, but she now had the life experience to appreciate it to a degree.
"Wow. Okay. That's pretty intense. But, why can't a warrior just take care of it himself?" Jane asked.
"Such gestures are insufficient for the purpose. The heart of man longs for acknowledgement of his plight, for solidarity with his fellows at the sorrow of insufficient glory. It is both humbling and companionable to be set back down firmly into rightness of the mind before returning to your home. My brother Steven suffers from such loneliness and excess of vigor," Thor said.
Jane pressed her mouth flat and looked at him skeptically.
"I do not jest. As you are not a warrior, I cannot expect you to fully understand," Thor said.
"Enough with the 'I am not a warrior.' I get that. I'm flimsy little Jane," she sassed.
"Nay. You are lovely little Jane. You are brilliantly intelligent little Jane. Your radiance would be wasted on the field of battle. You are meant for finer things, and I would have you no other way," Thor smiled at her.
She got lost for a moment in his smile, then she shook her head.
"But this is Steve we're talking about! First, if you beat him bloody, he'll just stand there and thank you for it. If you really hurt him, Thor, he wouldn't want you to feel bad, so he wouldn't mention it. Second, the friendly blow job among warriors tradition has likely got him shitting puppies! There's no telling what's in his head. You have to fix this!" Jane hissed and poked him firmly in the side.
"Your wisdom is legend, Lady. If I can but determine which of my actions has made me unworthy, then I may work at regaining my honor in Steven's eyes. I was blinded enough by my own arrogance to tell him that-" Thor paused and thought of the error of his words to Steven.
He frowned strongly and Jane rubbed his arm in sympathy.
"You're not expected to be perfect, you know. We all make mistakes," Jane told him.
"Your mistakes do not deprive you of the tool of your trade, nor of the honor of your companions," Thor grumbled while he stared longingly at his hammer.
"Sometimes they do. And worse. Don't forget about my unstable wormhole test. It ate my lab and half of Doctor Banner's," Jane pointed out.
"Ah. Yes. I am only grateful that you and Darcy were not in the lab at the time, but observing from a safe distance," Thor said. He leaned over and kissed Jane on the temple.
"See. Most times, we can fix our mistakes. Don't worry, Honey. Steve is your friend. Just explain and apologize. I'm sure it'll be alright," Jane said.
"Explanation and apology are insufficient. I must make amends," Thor said.
"Fine. You do that. I'll go make coffee," Jane said.
She kissed Thor lovingly, then hurried inside to get her morning started. She got halfway to the kitchen, then turned around and hurried back out to get her phone from Thor.
"You will not share what I have told you in confidence with anyone? Not even with our Darcy?" Thor asked.
"Of course not!" Jane said.
"Captain, I should inform you that your time with Miss Estrella will be recorded," Jarvis said.
"Understood," Steve agreed.
She'd asked him to meet with her out in the hallway. He didn't know what to expect from her, but he was glad that she'd at least asked to see him. He was glad if she would talk to him, or slap him for scaring her, or even just stare at him and make him feel bad. When he was almost there, it occurred to him that maybe she was going to tell him that she was moving out of the tower. He walked a little faster. If that's what she had to say, they were going to have words again.
He found her standing by the window outside Nat's suite. The first thing he noticed was that her hair was spiked straight up from her head and that the tip of each little spike was bright red. The second thing he noticed was that she was wearing all black clothes. Long black crinkled skirt, a long tunic over that. The neckline of her top was rounded and wide so that it barely clung to her shoulders. Then, he saw that she wasn't wearing her necklace. Steve stopped walking toward her abruptly.
Estrella turned away from the window. Something was different about her eyes. They looked darker all around, and more sultry. Her lips were tinted a deep rosy brown color. Makeup. He had a difficult moment adjusting to seeing her wearing makeup. She looked very pretty, but it made her look different. Not like the natural and unpretentious young woman he knew her to be. He didn't like the makeup, but he made himself accept that she didn't need to keep herself in any particular way to please him. The red spikey hair, though…he liked that a lot.
Steve stood where he was, almost twenty feet away from her. She didn't smile at him in greeting. She didn't whisper to him or try to communicate to him in any way. She looked displeased, and something deep in his brain cautioned him, reminded him of the sickening pain she was capable of inflicting without her necklace.
"Would you understand if I told you that I scared you on purpose?" he asked quietly.
Both of them stood with feet braced apart and arms crossed. Steve loosened to shove his hands in his new pants pockets and he leaned back against the wall not far from the elevator.
She nodded at him solemnly. Estrella sank to the floor where she was and folded her legs and feet so that her full skirt puddled all around. Steve crouched down so that his back slid down the wall. He rested his forearms on his knees.
"Is your necklace broken or lost?" Steve asked her when it didn't look like she wanted to talk about anything in particular.
She shook her head.
"You left it off so you can scream if I misbehave?" Steve asked.
Estrella nodded.
She could see that the idea of her needing to defend herself against him made him sad.
Steve was a contrast, crouching there across from her. His face was that of a sorrowful intellect, but his body displayed brute power. The new clothes Natasha told her he'd be wearing emphasized what his old clothes had tried to minimize. The breadth of his shoulders and the strong fullness of his thighs were there for anyone to see. In between, his torso seemed somehow thick and lean at the same time.
How had she missed this? When she'd first met him, maybe she was so dim witted with hunger that her normally paranoid assessment of men as threats had failed to pick up on his ability to do harm. Or, maybe she'd been so intrigued by his personality and his unique brand of kindness that she'd overlooked much of his physicality. She'd taken him for granted as a nice guy because of what he did for a living.
Steve was finding himself thinking much the same about her. She'd been a powerless street person, thin and weak, so he had assumed her to be harmless. Or at least, incapable of doing anything which would deter anyone from what they wanted. The phantom pain of her yells still made him hesitant to do anything she might not like.
Right now, he wanted to be near her. He craved the touch of her skin. But she was cautious. He could tell from the way she was looking at him that she wasn't thinking of him as a teddy bear anymore. If he moved closer to her, she would likely scream.
If he wanted her, all he had to do was cover his ears. The thought shamed him. Not long ago, he'd promised her he'd never do that. The fact that the idea came to him now told him how far wrong his mind was. Steve hung his head and mentally chastised himself. Buck was right. Maybe he should just stay away from her if this was how he was going to be.
When he looked at her again, his moment of sanity evaporated and he was right back to wanting her. He fought the attraction, but he was losing. It felt like his fingers were slipping off a ledge, and he was going to fall.
The exposed skin of her nape drew his attention. He wanted to kiss her there, where her necklace usually rested. To taste her. To smell her. To do that, he'd have to be close. She might be afraid. Maybe she would struggle. He would get to feel her moving in his arms like the night in the common kitchen when he'd pulled her off of Bucky. He wanted to feel her moving in his arms, vigorous and fiery as he knew her to be.
Steve closed his eyes again and clunked his head back against the wall. There it went. He'd been calm so far this morning. But now that he was thinking of how it would feel to hold her, his body reacted with eager anticipation. At least he had the tails of his new shirt to obscure the fact.
He really needed to go. The only thing keeping him from going to her was his word to her that he wouldn't prevent her voice from hurting him. He'd promised he wasn't going to cover her mouth, or his ears, and he had to keep that promise.
"I want you, Eya," Steve told her, more as a warning than as any kind of romance.
Duh! Her mouth formed the exclamation and she rolled her eyes at him.
"Hah," Steve laughed at her reaction to his admission.
Half the women he met were dying to get him to want them, and the one he finally wanted in return made light of his desire.
"But I don't just want you. I like you. I liked you before I wanted you. Is there a way we can pay attention to that instead of the wanting?" he asked.
For the first time today, Estrella smiled at him. It was beautiful and shy.
I don't know, she moved her lips at him.
"I'd like to try," he told her.
She nodded her agreement.
Steve looked at his watch.
"I have to go. I've got a meeting," Steve stood up and tugged at the tails of his shirt.
Estrella watched him from her spot on the floor near the window. She could see that he was agitated, almost fidgety. He'd said he had to leave, but he wasn't going. She lifted an eyebrow at him.
"Can I-" Steve began, then swallowed his words.
He gathered his fortitude and tried again.
"Can I have a hug?" he whispered hopefully.
"I would advise against it, Miss," Jarvis' voice told her.
Estrella made a face at the ceiling, then stood up. She went to Steve. She was already resigned to the idea that he might hurt her someday. It probably wouldn't be today. She hadn't made a peep of sound, and didn't plan to. Steve's arms opened to her, and she went into them.
He was hard and tense around her, and his grip nearly squeezed the breath out of her. Steve's face pressed down along hers in a rough caress, and it seemed like he was smelling her, or breathing strange, or something. She hugged his neck tighter to show him that she wasn't afraid. Much. She remembered what he could do, from how he'd handled Natasha in the training room. His heart was thumping strong and she could hear it. He shifted his feet and the slight movement of his body made muscles come alive against her. She shivered.
"Hey," Steve murmured.
She pulled her face back to look up at him. Poor guy. His pupils were all wide again, and his skin was rosy. She smiled at him in sympathy.
Carefully, Steve lifted a hand and tipped her chin up. She didn't know what he wanted, and it made her nervous to trust him. Natasha and Jarvis had both warned her to stay away from him for a while, but that was nothing new. Steve was still more important to her than they were. He was why she stayed in the tower. So, he could do what he wanted and Jarvis and Natasha would just have to chew on it.
Steve ignored the rush of blood through his veins, pulsing hard as if he was working, instead of standing still with a girl. He kissed her throat in the front, where her copper butterfly was supposed to be. He gave into temptation a little bit and rubbed his lips back and forth on her skin. So soft. As soon as he was tempted to do more, he loosened his arms and gently pushed her away.
He moved aside and stepped into the elevator.
"Stay safe," he told her.
She nodded. Her fingers touched where he'd kissed her, and he liked the way she looked. Pleased, maybe a little flushed. Her small smile eased his heart. She wasn't mad at him. That was good. Very good. Darn. He'd wanted to feel the little red spikes in her hair, but he'd forgot. He shifted his weight forward, thinking about going back to her.
The elevator doors snapped shut far faster than they usually did. Steve jerked back to keep his face from being clipped by the closing doors.
"Jarvis?" Steve asked.
"The probability was high that you would be late for your meeting, had you lingered," Jarvis told him.
"How high is the probability that you need a diagnostic for making pre-emptive decisions for people?" Steve asked.
"Very high, Captain. I will submit myself to Sir immediately," Jarvis admitted.
Bucky looked out through the open framed wall studs when he heard Steve's bike arrive at the work site. Steve got off the bike and stalked over to the foreman's shack. Buck could tell that he was intent on doing some damage, with the way he moved. Stevie had a good head of mad worked up. He barely stopped to talk to Ron to find out where Buck was working.
Bucky looked around at the new pool house they were roughing in for the apartment complex. If Steve wanted to make a fuss when he found him, the place would come down like a pile of sticks. Bucky set down the cordless drill he was using and pulled the pencil out from behind his ear. Miguel looked at him questioningly.
"I might be back in a minute," Buck told him.
He didn't hang around to see what Miguel thought of that. He could hear Steve's footsteps coming. He had to get clear of the work site. Bucky bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He'd half expected something like this. A loaded dump truck rumbled by, obscuring the sound of Steve's approach, but Buck could see him out the corner of his eye. There wasn't much time before Steve closed distance with him. He ducked around where the back hoe was loading the next dump truck and jogged away so that maybe the crew wouldn't see it when Steve lit into him.
"Buck!" Steve shouted at him.
He grinned and got around the back side of the porta-johns. Good enough. He waited the few seconds it took Steve to get there.
Yeah. Stevie was hot. A vein was jumping at the side of his head, and his jaw was set just so. The sharply styled office wear looked strange on him, but there wasn't much time to pay attention to that.
"Heya. What's got your tail in a knot?" he asked.
"You knocked over another Hydra base. Alone," Steve bit out.
He stood there with his arms crossed, looking ready to chew into him.
"Sure I did. Your team was just letting it sit there. Had to do something," Buck said.
"We were going tomorrow," Steve growled.
"Now ya don't have to. You can buy me lunch to thank me," Buck told him.
Steve lunged for him and he was ready for it. He got Steve in the gut and in the face just once before he was slung across the loose, sharp gravel like a pinwheel. He could feel his right shoulder try to pop out from the force of Steve's toss.
"Quit being a fuckin' dumbass, Buck! The way you do it only works because you surprise them. They're gonna get wise to you, and the next time you go, they'll be waiting. They'll take you back. Then what am I gonna do?" Steve shouted angrily as he came for him again.
Bucky scrabbled to his feet just in time to catch one across the jaw, but he went in for another round, anyway. He pounded into Steve's ribs, and got a few good shots to the kidneys, too.
Steve shoved him off and laughed. That damn nasty dark side laugh again. Bucky righted himself and frowned. Steve shouldn't have been able to shrug him off so easily. He stood defensively, which felt weird and all wrong, but he had to wait and see what was going on.
"I'm not an idiot. This is what I do. They don't know what's getting em until they're dead. No communications out or in, and then it's too late for them to rat to headquarters, wherever that is. It's clean," Buck said.
"Bullshit!" Steve told him, "If we can see the hit with Stark's satellites, then they know you're ticking off bases, one by one. All they have to do is send a team to investigate and they'll read the site like a report. The next hit you go for, they'll be ready. They're getting smart. No more lone wolf, Buck."
"So come with me," Bucky offered.
Apparently Steve didn't like that idea, because he set into Bucky again, smacking at him fast and open-handed. It stung like hell because Buck wasn't expecting that kind of attack. He made a swing with his left arm to get Steve away from him and Steve grabbed his fist and pulled him in tight. His ribs cracked with the two careful punches Steve gave him. Again, Steve flung him away.
"What the hell's with the pansy-slapping?" Buck asked.
"Can't hit you full on. Not anymore," Steve said.
"Tha fuck, Punk? You think I'm a pussy now?" Buck asked.
Steve growled something that wasn't understandable and paced around to work off his anger. Bucky stood and watched him. When Steve didn't answer him, other than with a few sour looking glances, Buck closed in and shoved at him.
"Hey, you too good to scrap with me now?"
"Leave off, Buck," Steve recovered his balance and turned to face him.
"You're different," Bucky observed.
Steve's close buzzed dark blonde hair and beard, along with the tailored clothes made him look thoroughly modern. It made him look hard and angular, unlike the almost angelic pretty thing he'd had going on since he was a kid. Bucky didn't like it.
"Yeah, I'm different. I told you. Something's going on with me. Banner thinks it's because I'm eating more now, and Estrella won't stop cooking for me and putting it under my nose, and when Thor busted me up good on the inside yesterday, I healed within the hour. M' too strong. Can't hardly touch anybody," Steve grumbled.
"You'll learn. Give it time. Why'd you let blondie tenderize you like that?" Buck asked.
"I dunno. I felt like fighting. Never mind that. Buck, you gotta promise me you'll stop going it alone," Steve said.
"You ain't my captain anymore. Why should I?"
Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at the rough gravel under his feet. Bucky liked seeing the old mannerism. Not everything about his friend had changed. His posturing meant that he didn't want to talk about whatever was on his mind.
"I just got you back, Bucky. I can't lose you again," Steve finally said.
Buck squatted down and buried his fingers in his hair. He stared at the gravel until the scuffed toes of Steve's office shoes appeared in his view.
"I have to, Stevie. I have to do something to hit them back. The directives are still there," Buck tapped at the side of his head, "Part of me still thinks I should go after you. I never finished the last mission. You're still walking around breathing air. When it gets too loud in my head, I gotta go find Hydra to hit instead."
"I didn't know that. I'm sorry," Steve said.
He crouched down in front of Buck and reached across to squeeze his shoulder. Bucky wanted to shrug him off, but he didn't. It would do him some good to let it happen. Nobody touched him except Kenya lately. He needed to loosen up and allow the contact while his head was mostly straight.
"Yeah, well don't worry about it. It's fading," Buck said.
"I don't care if you come after me. Rather than go against Hydra on your own, you come for me next time, you hear?" Steve told him.
"You won't see me coming. What if I snipe you while you're running in the park?" Buck asked.
"You haven't yet. Why would you now? You got that little control?"
Bucky shrugged.
"Look, I mean it. If you get to feeling antsy and you need to hit something, come see me at the tower. I don't care what I'm doing. In the shower, at a meeting, eating pizza, even sleeping. You get to me and we'll handle it. I can use the practice, anyway," Steve told him.
"What about collateral? It'd be better if it's just me and you," Buck asked.
"So I'll tell everybody to stay outta your way if you're headed for me. You can't get past Stark's AI undetected. I mean it, Buck. Just come. We'll deal with it," Steve said.
He gave Bucky a little shake that messed with their balance, perched on the balls of their feet as they were. Buck pushed him off and they stood up.
Steve stood within easy reach of him, hands in his pockets again. The dumb punk was showing him that he trusted him. Or that he wasn't afraid. Either way, nobody who knew what James Barnes was anymore stood so close like that. The corners of Steve's eyes crinkled and Buck couldn't help but grin some.
"I can't promise-"
"You will, Buck. Right here, right now. I'm not leaving til I have your word. No more solo hits," Steve demanded. His friendly smile was gone just like that.
"Or what? You'll bring me in and lock me up?" Bucky challenged him.
"No. I'll think of something. Maybe I'll show up with my suitcase and live at your place. Sleep on your couch. Bug you all the damn time. Follow you around. Not let you outta my sight," Steve suggested.
"We're not kids anymore. I don't need a roommate. Or a babysitter," Buck said.
"Yeah, you do. Unless you give me your word, you're getting a babysitter. Try me, Buck. I'll do it. Brooklyn suits me better than the tower lately, anyway. I'll bring Estrella and she'll have fun cooking for the both of us," Steve said.
He smiled, imagining it. He really liked the idea. It could work. Their old neighborhood was loud and rowdy, and Estrella could have music and sing all she wanted. She could still work from her laptop, and-
"You're serious, aren't you? You got that look," Bucky said.
Steve didn't answer, but he gave him a stare.
"Fuck. Alright. No more solo hits," Bucky said.
"And?..."
"And if my head bothers me, I'll come kick your ass," Bucky grumbled.
"You'll try," Steve told him.
"Yeah."
"Your word, Buck. I mean it," Steve said.
"Yeah, yeah. Alright. You have my word. Why do ya think my word's worth anything anyway? I been nothing but a sneak and a killer for seventy years," Bucky complained.
Steve shrugged. He turned around and walked away.
"See ya," Steve called back at him over his shoulder.
"Sure. See ya," Buck grumped at him.
He stayed behind the porta-johns until he heard Steve's bike start up. Buck gave an angry kick at the gravel, spraying rocks in a staccato blast against the plastic enclosures. It was pointless, but it felt good. Better to let it out than to let it build.
When he looked up, four guys were watching him from a nearby roof.
"Eh, fuck off!" Buck yelled at them.
The crew got back to their roofing, and Buck walked across the site and back to his work. Ron stood between him and the rough-framed pool house.
"You something special, going head to head with Captain America like that?" he asked.
"Maybe. You gonna let me do my job, or am I done here?" Buck asked the foreman.
"Nobody's gonna get hurt, right? My insurance can't handle any clash of the titans shit," Ron said.
"I got clear of the site before he got to me, didn't I?"
Ron looked him over and his eyes landed on the left arm. Buck looked down and began to shove the granny stocking back up under his shirt sleeve where it had come loose and fallen down some.
"I'm guessing the Captain wouldn't let you stay out loose if you were a danger to people," Ron said.
"Quit calling him that where anybody can hear. When he's here, he's Grant. And, no, he wouldn't let me run loose if he thought I'd hurt anybody who wasn't askin for it. He was just angry today. We're good," Bucky said.
"Alright. Get back to work," Ron said.
Steve sat in the locker room. The place was quiet. Peaceful. The narrow windows behind him let in the late afternoon sunlight. It shone into his open locker onto his uniform. The room looked technical and stylized in tones of gray, black, blue, and red. It smelled like new shoes and deodorant soap from the nearby showers.
He sat on the bench and stared at the red, white, and blue. The cowl sat on the bottom of his locker, mocking him with empty eye sockets. There was supposed to be a mission tomorrow. He should be outfitting his gear right now and double-checking that everything was ready. Since the mission had been scrubbed due to Bucky's actions, there wasn't anything to do.
Steve frowned at the uniform. It was like part of him was standing there in the locker, looking down at the man seated on the bench and judging himself. An empty shell of a uniform was judging him.
He'd seen the videos on television, edited to make everything look grand and heroic and exciting. There were news blurbs, and cell phone vids, and people even made mix-ups to music that they put on YouTube.
What it felt like inside the uniform while he was working, and what all the media hype made it out to be were two different things. While on duty, he was always concerned about his people. His team. And civilians. And the enemy combatants, to a degree. The tangle and flow of ideas, observations, memory, knowledge, and strategy inside his head was a lot messier than what the cameras showed. He could appreciate that when someone saw Captain America in action from the outside, it looked smooth and capable. But he could run it all into the ground in a flaming explosion looking just as smooth and capable. He'd done it before.
Inside his head, it was a knife's edge dance of experience and tactics and response. In the last few years, he'd had to add another dimension to the fight. Lately, there was always the unexpected. Whether it was Hydra or terrorist thugs in an African backwater skirmish, the world was changing so fast that even Tony was having trouble keeping up. Hill kept coming to him with new, young hires to approve. Some of their employees were barely legal age for working. Their youngest was a few months past his sixteenth birthday.
It made him feel old. They relied so much on intel and technology before they could act. Fury was valuable for his contacts and experience, and for that certain raw edge of irreverent determination that just didn't quit. Other than that, Fury was getting old. So was Tony. And Clint. And Banner. And especially Steve, despite his young-looking body. His mind felt old and tired sometimes.
This body…Steve looked down at himself. He should be more worn and achy than Fury. But as long as the serum kept him fresh, his experience and physical ability kept him relevant. With Hill and her young talent on roster, and minds like his and Fury's, and capability like Tony and Jarvis and Banner could muster, they were nearly unstoppable. They were needed.
Sure, putting down hotspots and terrorist cells was satisfying. But the Avengers shone most brightly when they worked at long goals like neutering Hydra and ripping it out by the roots. Those roots ran deep into the meat and muscle of the world, and the shift toward a political and ideological fight was something Steve wasn't as well prepared for.
Captain America stood for the bright things. The right and true ideals of what humanity should be. The Cap was strong and sharp and stoic. Upright and reliable. Rigid. Like a dick.
Steve laughed out loud. The comparison was sad enough and true enough to be worth a laugh. As the Captain, he was a harsh tool for a very specific task. When there was a hot mess, he trotted himself out, inserted into the action, and agitated until justice was planted in the place of what had been there before. If he couldn't bring justice, then at least he and his team put a stop to whatever they'd gone in to clean up.
The Captain felt like a skin he put on, lately. He was good at the job because he'd been doing it for so long. He was even getting better at it, integrating his new strength into his training and his work. But when he put on that skin lately, that persona which let him do his job, he was starting to feel like a sham. Like everyone had built up into legend who The Captain was, Steve had his own internal image of the man in the uniform.
He didn't think he was worthy of being even his own considerably less shiny version of America's hero. Steve didn't feel red, white, and blue anymore. He felt gray. And everything he touched was looking muddy, too. What Hydra was up to called on him to get dirty to deal with it. And Steve's own personal struggle was affecting his team.
He'd scared Natasha. Pepper had treated him like a delinquent school kid, and he deserved it. Tony was looking at him strange lately, and Clint didn't know what to think. God bless Bruce for being unruffled, and Sam for taking it in stride.
And Thor.
Steve made a pained face and shook his head. Now that he had a moment to think, it felt wrong that Thor had sacrificed his dignity to do what he'd done for him yesterday. It felt subservient. Steve burned with shame, as if he'd needed his diaper changed as a grown man. Thor was a fine enough pal to take care of it without much fuss, but it wasn't right. Thor was the prince of a whole realm, and he shouldn't have to put his face in another man's business like that.
There was no question in Steve's mind as to whether either one of them was gay. It was women that got him going. Women that he dreamed about and wanted to be with. The same was clearly true for Thor. The man adored Jane and seemed to revel in her delicate stature and feminine beauty. Steve didn't agonize over any questions of orientation.
What stung was that Thor felt he'd had to take care of him. And Thor was disappointed in him, too. He'd made that very clear. Then, Pepper'd had to school him like a dumb kid. Even Lewis had gotten in on the lesson.
Steve stared at his uniform again. He wasn't worthy of wearing it. Sure, he could do the job like nobody else could, but his head was in the wrong place. He felt like he was drifting off center, unanchored. He wasn't sure it could all be blamed on what was happening with his body.
Managing the demanding, needy chaos he felt in his groin, his gut, and in his head was difficult enough. He still didn't have a clue what he was going to do about a dick that wouldn't lie down and give up no matter how much he beat it. He couldn't run to his friends every day, even if Thor was right and what he needed to put it to sleep was a human touch other than his own.
Somehow, the idea had wiggled into his consciousness that he didn't want to toe the line anymore. He'd lived his life serving other people's purposes for pretty much as long as he could remember. Living in the skin of the Captain was very limiting, sometimes. Funny how he'd never felt limited by it before. Always, his personal boundaries of right and wrong had felt like a solid foundation to stand on. Here lately, he wanted to rock that foundation, or at least push at the edges. What was everyone else doing and enjoying that he had never let himself consider? Was there merit to some of the things he'd been looking down The Captain's nose at?
Steve's brow crinkled as he thought of it, and his belly felt kind of sick when he considered the possibilities. There could be women. Lots of them. And fun. He wouldn't need any embarrassing help from his friends if he could cut loose enough to go out and take care of his problems on his own. He could choose to temporarily forget what his mother had taught him about being a gentleman. Maybe he needed to, to handle what his body was demanding of him. And maybe that's what Thor meant. He needed to grow up and quit being such a priss about being a man. He needed to learn how to handle his gear so it wouldn't be handling him instead.
Steve looked coldly at his uniform. It was work. It wasn't him. He would be that when he was supposed to, because it was the least he should do. And he needed the challenge.
He stood up and shut the locker.
"Steve, you gotta come see this," Tony said over the intercom.
"And you gotta give me more clues, Tony. See what? Where?"
"Just come to the living room," Tony told him.
"On my way," Steve said.
Steve walked into the common living room and stood at the end of the couch where Tony sat. Pepper was next to him and Steve thought that strange until he realized how much time had passed. It was evening, and the news was on.
"Shit," Steve said.
"Yeah," Tony agreed.
There on the news for the whole nation to see, was him beating on Bucky and slinging him around at the construction site. The video quality wasn't great, and the news media had cut and spliced it to make it look much worse than it had actually been. From the distance and the angle, Steve knew somebody on a rooftop had captured the video on their phone.
"…speculation about what Captain America was doing at a construction site in Queens. While the video doesn't show the Captain's mysterious opponent taking as much damage as we would expect from such a beating, some wonder why the Captain would embroil himself in a petty fistfight with a civilian construction worker.
Comments on the video run the gamut from outraged disappointment, to blind faith in the Captain's judgement. It remains to be seen whether the Captain…"
Tony pressed the mute button on the remote and looked to Steve.
"Is there some part of 'stay off the news' that you don't understand?" Tony asked.
"That was personal and you know it. I had to talk Buck into laying off the Hydra hits," Steve said.
"With your fists?" Tony asked.
"It worked. He gave me his word," Steve said.
Tony stood up and turned to face him.
"And what now? That may look like a civilian to Joe public, but Hydra will take one look and know that it's Barnes. Did you think about his job, and the people on the work site? The people Hydra will plow through when they make a hit on his apartment in Brooklyn?"
"Sure I thought of it. It doesn't matter. Hydra already knows where he lives and works. Buck is smart. He knows he can't hide forever, so he stays around people. Lots of people. The neighborhood knows him. The crew at the construction site knows him. If Hydra wants to get to him, they'll have to do it publically and expose themselves. It's a possibility they'll make a move, but I'd bet good money that he's prepared for that," Steve answered.
Pepper stood up and waved her hand at the argument she could see simmering between Steve and Tony.
"Barnes is capable, and we'll assist if necessary. That's a worry for tomorrow. Right now, we need to deal with the public and the media. Tony, get dressed for Romero's. Jarvis, tell everyone to get ready to go out. Steve, come with me," she instructed.
Tony gave Steve a smug look as Pepper herded Steve back to his suite. She made him stand in the bright light of his bedroom while she went through his closet and his new clothes. He watched as she brought out one of those Cuban looking shirts with the two lines down the front, and then a pair of light brown slacks he wouldn't have chosen because of the slinky looking material. He frowned, but she didn't pay any attention. Pepper added a pair of shiny, fancy leather shoes with smooth soles.
"Shower. Make sure you smell nice, but don't put on too much scent. Leave the top two buttons of the shirt undone. Wear this underwear, and these socks," she ordered him.
"That's underwear?!" Steve gawked and blushed.
Pepper gave him a hard stare.
"We don't want any lines or bunches showing under the slacks, and you'll be dancing. Wear them. So help me, Steve, if we get in the car and I see that you're not wearing these, I'll turn us around and make everyone wait while I send you back up to change. It matters," she said.
"But they look like one of those little swimsuits. Or an athletic support. And they're see-through. And red! I can't wear-"
"You will. It's nice to feel sexy sometimes, even if nobody else knows you're feeling it. Get moving, Captain," Pepper said.
She left him to start arranging things for their impromptu evening outing. Steve waited until he heard his front door close, then reached down to finger the strange underwear. They were soft and silky, like women's things, but the waistband was sturdy looking enough. Maybe. The brief garment looked like something he would hide in his drawer with Rosie. Steve hadn't known there was special underwear for men. He hadn't known he owned any such thing, but Pepper'd pulled it out of his drawer as if she'd known, all right.
All his junk would be confined in a tight, forward package, and the back of it… pretty much wasn't there. It didn't look comfortable. He'd never worn anything that just went in the crack of his ass. He scowled at the underwear.
"Captain, I might suggest that you move with somewhat more of your usual efficiency. Sir is nearly ready to depart, as are many of the others. Miss Estrella is being assisted with wardrobe, and will likely be ready before you are," Jarvis harried him.
"Estrella is going? Why?" Steve asked.
"For the same reason everyone else is going. To be seen at dinner and dancing. I believe it is Miss Pott's plan for the Avengers to show the public that all is well, and that the video of you scuffling with Sergeant Barnes is of no consequence," Jarvis explained.
"But I can't wear that underwear. They look too small. And how am I supposed to dance with a strap up my ass? I can't even dance! This isn't the way I wanted to-"
"In the shower with you, Captain, if you please. I have years of data on the results of disappointing Miss Potts. I don't recommend it," Jarvis said.
Steve grumbled all the while, but he did as he was told. Pepper was concerned that he would work up a sweat and smell, so he sniffed briefly at the colognes that had appeared on his bathroom countertop until he found one he didn't mind. He used it lightly, then slipped into the ridiculous underwear.
They were more comfortable than he'd have thought, but they did things to him that he sure as hell didn't need any help with. He glared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was right in his earlier guess. His package was snugly held tight and forward. He chuckled in disbelief at the eye-searing bright red color and the fact that he could see himself through the fine mesh fabric. He couldn't get things arranged right. No matter how he adjusted himself, even with the Cuban shirt that hung untucked, especially with the slinky slacks, he was going to show.
"Captain," Jarvis said mildly just as Steve heard his front door open again.
"Steve. You're dawdling. I'm coming in to help so we can get going. Reservations are in forty-five, and traffic will take most of that," Pepper called as she moved through the suite.
Steve stood practically naked in his bathroom. His eyes went wide and he reached for the towel he'd dropped on the floor after his shower, but Pepper in a hurry didn't leave time for wrapping up.
She pushed the bathroom door wide and Steve stood stiff and terrorized. Pepper paused to look at him, and her lips crimped in disapproval. The sweep over her eyes over him was lightning quick, but he still caught the glint of interest and the brief flare of her nostrils before she tamped it down. That little wisp of female appreciation was all he needed to bend his mind into a less defensive place. Steve relaxed from his clenched attempt to conceal himself and eased taller, into a more dominant stance. A guy had to, with a dame like Pepper, or she'd take off your parts and hand them to you.
Pepper watched his mental and physical adjustment and nodded in appreciation.
"That's much better. Remember Steve, carry it like it's government issue, because it is. This is you, and you don't have to hide. Now, are you going to fix that, or am I? We've got to get going, and you're not even dressed," she said.
"Fix what?" Steve rumbled, intentionally low.
His nerves were twanging at him, with a woman he respected standing there staring at him so blatantly, and his throat wanted to close up and squeak. Pepper sighed.
"Steve. Don't make me put my hand in your panties. You can't wear those angled up and to the side. You're supposed to be down and center. Hurry up. I'll get your slacks," she said.
"Down and-?" he protested.
"No arguing! Do it or I will! We're running late," Pepper shrilled at him while she went back to his bed to get the laid out clothes.
Steve scowled into a frown and adjusted himself as she'd said to. It looked showy and obscene. He didn't appreciate how Pepper was bossing him and rushing him, so he stood there with his arms crossed, looking sour when she came back with the rest of his clothes.
"Very nice. Now hurry! Please, Steve. The sooner everyone sees that we're out for some fun, the sooner the speculation about you brawling in public dies down. They'll be distracted with an entirely different story," she said.
Steve stood motionless like a statue and glared at Pepper and her hurry-up attitude.
"You think you're going to wrestle me into it like a four year old?" he asked, low and challenging.
Pepper stilled her attempts to hand him the clothes. Instinctively, she stepped back to give him some space and she set the clothing on the countertop. Her careful, deliberate motions soothed his anger just enough that he was able to reach for the garments in a controlled manner. One more minute of her prodding him into action, and he would have lost his dignity and done something he might regret, like yell at her, or physically remove her from his suite.
"I'm sorry. No. That wouldn't be very effective, would it? You're a little bit larger and stronger than me," Pepper smiled slightly, "I'm only trying to-"
"I know you're trying to help. But if you keep hounding me, the public isn't going to see the side of me you need them to see to fix this. Relax, Pepper. We'll get there in our own time. Go out and tell Tony I'm not about to spank his girl. I can hear him hovering and worrying from here," Steve said.
"I do not hover! And I don't worry! And if you even try to spank her, she'll-" Tony called from Steve's living room.
"I'm not you, Tony. She can't spank me if I don't let her. That's your place," Steve said.
Pepper clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a barked laugh. Her eyes crinkled with mirth and Steve was relieved that humor had broken the tension. Pepper nodded to him and left him alone to go soothe Tony's ruffled ego.
Steve looked at himself in the mirror with a frown one last time. He put on the clothes selected for him, but he only left the topmost shirt button undone. With the second one loose, too much skin showed around the top of his chest and collarbones. But, then he looked at it all together. The slacks were roomy and comfortable in the leg, though they clung to his waist and hips and did nothing to hide his ass. The shirt mostly covered his front, except that the underwear still made an embarrassing show. Steve decided that the second shirt button undone might serve to draw the eyes away from his pants. Yeah, it helped. Maybe he should trust Pepper more and not give her such a hard time. She knew things.
Tony and Pep were waiting for him by the elevator. Pepper looked at him with pride, as if Steve was a picture she'd painted. It made him feel good that, for whatever reason, Pepper approved, even if he didn't understand it.
Tony was too put out with him to do anything but bite his tongue. He smacked Steve on the back of the head, and Steve ducked his head down to accept the wordless reprimand. Tony was right. He shouldn't have argued with Pepper so much. She meant well, but it made him angry to be handled like that.
"Tony, you ruined it! He was all Dom and cocky, and doing so well, and now you've made him Captain Stevie again," Pepper fussed.
Both men gawked at her pouting tone, affronted.
"Captain Stevie? That's awful," Steve complained.
"It's an affront to patriots everywhere," Tony agreed.
"Well, it's true. Here, let me fix it. Don't you bite me, Steven," Pepper warned him as she left Tony's side and stepped into his personal space.
"Wha?" Steve squawked.
"Pep," Tony cautioned her.
Pepper payed them no mind. She used one strong hand to press up under the back of Steve's shoulders, which forced him to shift his balance higher or stumble. The strength of her hand was eerie, even more so because she used her other one to cup his groin and move his hips back into a more squared power stance. Steve hissed a breath in through his teeth at the feel of the slacks shifting over his thin mesh underwear, and the heat and pressure of Pepper's grip.
"Whoa, Pep. Playing with fire, there. Hot is good, but-"
"Hush, Tony," Pepper murmured.
"Steve," she continued, "You are subservient to no one tonight, even if you mess up. You own everything, and you apologize for nothing. Especially not to the press. Understand?"
She removed her hands from him and he understood what she wanted. She'd talked about him acting Dom and cocky, and she hadn't liked when he'd shown remorse to Tony for making him worry about his girl. The guy his ma had taught him to be was kicking up a fuss inside Steve's head, but he silenced that little guy. She wanted him bold and unrepentant for the cameras. His whole look tonight was engineered for the show.
"I understand. Thank you," Steve said.
"Don't thank me," Pepper denied.
Steve nodded.
"Quit. You're making a monster," Tony said.
"It's only temporary, Tony. Just for-" Steve began.
Pepper shook her head at him.
"Noooo," Tony protested what Pepper was making Steve into, but he grinned.
Steve sighed, ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Steven Grant Rogers, you get rid of every ounce of bashful adorableness before this elevator reaches the lobby," Pepper glared lasers at him.
"Hm. I'm adorable?" Steve asked with utter sincerity.
He looked at her through sinfully lush lashes and pushed his bottom lip out thoughtfully. Pepper's schoolmistress glare intensified, then transformed into a smile when she saw the sly twinkle creep into Steve's eyes.
"Oh. You're better than I thought you were. This is going to work," she said happily.
She left the elevator with her head held proud at her student's skills. Steve strode out after her, looking just as commanding and sure of himself as Pepper wanted him to be, even in his shamefully showy outfit.
"Wait. Did the Captain just…?" Tony said, confused.
He hurried after Pepper.
"No. The Captain didn't. Steve Rogers did. I'm beginning to believe that the things Barnes told us about him are true. We've only been getting half of him. If that much," Pepper said.
She waited for Steve to make excuses or try to defend himself for his adorable, sly manipulation. He didn't. He walked tall and proud, and there was indeed something of the Captain in him. He was treating the evening's press show like a mission to be completed. Steve was taking the goal as seriously as the Captain did his work in the field. That gave her confidence that it was a done deal.
"Half of him? Steve, you've been holding back on us? For two years?" Tony asked.
"It's called responsibility, Tony. I do what I have to do. Did you really think I was that one dimensional?" Steve said.
"Vanilla. Vanilla sounds so much better than one dimensional," Tony said.