Arthur's note: Mature content, last few scenes. I'd put a specific warning but I don't want to spoil it. If you've handled everything so far, you can handle this. It's not traumatic, merely sort of kinky.
….
He breathed deep of the frigid, dry air. There was the resinous scent of pine from below, the mineral smell of the stone in front of his face, and the fragrance of his deodorant. Not that he needed deodorant today. It was cold out on the exposed rock face and he wasn't likely to sweat.
Steve reached for the small ridge he could see in the rock above him and enjoyed the pull of his muscles as he climbed. Jack was waiting up above, and Marley hung from her rope along an easier path off to his side. He had to go up slowly to give her time to do the camera work. She was bundled in a thick foul weather suit and she depended on Russel and Jack to hoist her up while she worked. Steve didn't let himself get distracted at how her harness dug into the interesting parts of her anatomy. He had work to do.
His safety rope was annoying the hell out of him. It wasn't necessary, but he'd decided to wear it and the harness because it would be irresponsible to appear in the PR piece without safety gear. The problem was that the rope stayed slack and it brushed grit down at him as his movements rubbed it against the stone. Steve was not an experienced climber and he didn't pretend to be. He was sure that if he had some instruction, he could do things in a way that the gear wouldn't bother him so much. The film crew could take whatever snippets they needed from the day's work and piece it together so he didn't look like the beginner he was. The effort was what counted, so he chose a challenging path up the stone which made him reach and work for it.
Marley seemed to be having some camera difficulty, so Steve took a moment to look around. The day was cloudy, but they were those wispy high clouds which looked like veils across the sky. Sunlight moved across the jagged mountainous landscape in swathes of bright cloud shadow. Steve marveled how the pinkish tan color of the stone faded toward gray when the clouds dimmed the light, but incredible colors from iron-red rust to mellow gold blushed his surroundings when the light was sharp. The view was spectacular, like he was in a classic Bierstadt painting come to life. The austere green of the pines far below thinned among the chunks of boulder scrabble that sloped up to the vertical plane of their rock face.
He could see for miles. It was easy to think he had it to himself, except for Marley's nervous sounds. Steve made sure of his grip with his left hand, his fingers reaching to curl more deeply into a crevice. His left toe found a narrow perch, but there was nothing for his right foot at the moment so he let it hang loose. With his free hand he pulled his phone from his back pocket. He knew the little phone camera wouldn't be able to do the view justice but he wanted to capture a quick image he could send in a text. It looked like they were terribly high up, but then everything around here seemed either really high or really low.
A strong gust of wind scoured along the rock face. He could hear it coming, whispering and whipping along the contours of the stone. Steve let it buffet his body as he put away his phone. Marley made a miserable whimpering noise. Steve turned his head to look at her.
She clung to the rope which supported her, her eyes wide. Her face and her hands were pale; her lips pulled thin with anxiety. Steve glanced at the grips available between them, then hopped over closer to her.
"Captain!" she squawked at him.
The damn safety rope got in his way again, almost making him miss the grip his hand was counting on. He stuck the perch anyway, then put a hand to Marley's back. She was clutching the camera in a tight, frightened claw. Steve turned her more toward the rock face, then pressed her to it so the wind wouldn't blow her around so much.
"Did you get what we need?" he asked her.
Her gray-blue eyes stuck to him for a moment longer, seeking security and a short view which wasn't so overwhelming.
"Marley. The camera. Look at the numbers. Do you think we have enough recorded for today?" Steve prompted her kindly.
That seemed to get through to her. She studied the camera, then shrugged at him. Then she looked down and quickly squeezed her eyes closed.
"Good enough. Let's get you up top. Russel, pull her up!" Steve shouted up to where the guys waited with the helicopter pilot.
Steve took one last look around to enjoy the solitude while Marley was tugged steadily up and away from him. He didn't want to rush away, but it was unkind to make Marley endure any more than she had to. He stayed to the easier path all the way up, then leapt the last bit to land on his feet near where Jack was freeing Marley from her harness. The helicopter pilot gave him a startled look.
He stripped off the annoying safety gear then went to his thermos in the open side of the aircraft. His throat was dry. He was cold from wearing only an athletic shirt and shorts, but it wasn't as bad as riding the bike for hours in Minnesota. Just like on the highway, he was the only fool enjoying outdoor recreation today. The winter gear regular folks had to wear in these temperatures made climbing dangerous for them.
Steve drank to replace the moisture the bone dry air had taken from him. Then he sent the new image from his phone to Bucky. Pepper was nowhere around. When they'd been scouting for a climbing site from the SUV yesterday, she'd looked skeptical. This morning she'd kissed him on the cheek like a nervous mother and said she didn't want to watch him hanging off of rocks, that she was staying at the house they'd rented for two nights.
When the gear was loaded and Marley looked less blanched by fear, they took a noisy ride in the helicopter back to the small Wyoming town that was home for the moment. Steve enjoyed the time in the air, taking in the awe-inspiring view around them. He wondered at the flat-mouthed unhappy face that Buck sent him in response to the phone pic. Steve shook the pilot's hand and thanked him. He helped carry the gear to the SUV, and Russel took them back to the house.
Marley hurried out of the vehicle and up onto the porch of the long ranch house. Darcy opened the door for them and the woman disappeared inside. Russel and Jack took the bags in and Pepper came out with coffee. Steve was reluctant to go inside, though the cold wind rasped and prickled at his exposed skin. He turned his back to the house and leaned on the grayed wood of the split rail fence. In the distance he could see red and white cattle ranging across the slope of the mountain valley. Pepper's steps came up beside him in a brisk stride. He could smell the lotion she used to keep her skin from drying and he could smell her coffee.
His coffee.
Pepper gave the steaming mug to him and rubbed a hand at the back of his arm. She felt feverish, almost scalding against his pale bumpy skin. She wore skinny jeans, shearling boots and a thick parka. It was unusual to see her without any makeup. Steve liked her natural freckles and pale eyelashes. He thought she looked younger without makeup, but he wasn't going to say so. Women were strange about things like that. They could find ways to feel insulted, even if you meant your words as a compliment.
"Thanks for the coffee," he said, and lifted the mug to his lips.
The beverage was too hot on his cold lips, so he drank it in thin sips and enjoyed the steam up his nose and against his eyes.
"We know you're enhanced. You don't have to brave the cold to impress anyone," Pepper said with a smile.
Steve reached out his hand to point so abruptly that he sloshed hot coffee over his fingers. It was worth it. He wanted to share what he saw with someone else.
"What?" Pepper asked.
"There. A fox. Can you see it?" Steve asked.
Pepper looked out over the low, brittle-looking vegetation to where he pointed. She saw what was maybe a flash of motion, but it was gone quickly.
"Your eyes, Steve. I don't have my glasses on. All I saw was something move," she told him.
Being around Pepper and the others served to point out to him how well Buck and Estrella knew him. His closest friends knew he didn't do things to showcase his enhancements. He simply lived his life and used his body as anyone else used theirs. Any normal person was accustomed to what they could do, and they acted within their limits. Buck, and now Estrella were accustomed to his range of abilities to the degree that the things he did were unremarkable.
It sometimes made him feel alien, something other than a person, when people pointed out his enhanced abilities. Pepper wouldn't know that, and it wasn't worth mentioning to her. She was merely trying to make friendly conversation. As long as he had a few people who understood him intimately, he could look forward to relaxing with them when he got home. Pepper was nice, but she wasn't Buck. Or Thor, or Nat, or Estrella. Even Tony's derision made him feel better than having his differences pointed out. What kind of mental place was he in, that he could find himself missing Tony Stark's insults? Steve smiled fondly.
"I'm cold. Not trying to pretend any different, but how can I go inside? Look at this view," Steve said.
He wished for his paints. He didn't have enough practice with paint to do anything but frustrate himself, but he longed to capture this in something other than monochrome pencil or the unimaginative reality of photography. Maybe later.
"We've been driving through it for days. How can you still be fascinated with it?" Pepper asked.
She gently looped her hand into his arm and pulled him toward the house. Steve turned his head and continued to look around while they walked across the barren, stony yard. It was midday. He was eager to see the sunset throwing dramatic shadows across the mountain behind the house.
"Minnesota was different. Then South Dakota. I wish I had time to see Yellowstone," he said.
He let Pepper tow him into the house. He took a last look out before the door closed. Russel was adding wood to the big stone fireplace. Steve resented the other man simply because he wanted to do that task. It was small of him, and he frowned a little and looked down to his feet. The house had a predictably western style décor, with a paver stone floor and peeled log interior. He stood at the edge of the brindle bull skin rug and watched the fire lick over the fresh wood Russel had fed it. There was a big leather chair to sit in near the fireplace, but he had too much energy to want to sit even though the spot looked inviting. Russel settled into the chair. Steve pushed out his frustrations with a controlled breath. He couldn't relax and it was nobody's fault but his own.
"You should come back and see Yellowstone later. Finish your coffee to warm your insides, then get a shower to warm your outside. And change into something that doesn't make me shiver when I look at you," Pep told him.
"Sure," he said.
Steve tipped back his mug and drained it. He handed the empty mug to Pepper, then went to his room to do as he was told. In defiance, he took a hot bath instead of a shower. Odd, how being around a scant five people was annoying him when he was around a lot more people in New York on any normal day. Pepper meant well. He understood that she was looking for someone to take care of but he sometimes wished she hadn't adopted him for the role.
He examined his grudging acceptance of the other people in the house with him. He'd lived for years with Buck in his pockets, then the Commandos were at his back for a grueling stint. His teammates' personalities bumped along companionably with his most of the time. A road trip with the film crew was different. There wasn't the same kind of knowing comradery. Pepper was really nice, but she wasn't a pal.
While the bath soaked heat into his chilled body he thought of his early days with the showgirls on the bond tour. That was different because he'd been too young and unformed to have preferences or to want much time alone. His new body and its peculiarities had occupied his thoughts, distracting him from other externalities which might have mattered. Being around all the pretty girls had kept him distracted. He'd been too busy to notice that he was lost in the tumult.
The change in his tolerance showed him that he was a different person now. Any amount of chaos was manageable while he was working. Steve had no trouble taking in details and folding all the tattered edges into a solid plan of action. He enjoyed it. It made him feel alive, like his senses and intellect were blazing along the front edge of a comet. When it was time to be off-duty he increasingly wanted solitude and quiet, or the company of a few good friends. He was learning the part of himself which enjoyed slower contemplation of broad ideas and a tranquil appreciation of beauty. He remembered being able to do that when he was small. He'd only recently begun to rediscover his simple humanity under the mental enhancement the serum forced on him. Steve was also discovering an appetite for fun. His childhood had only occasionally afforded him that.
What he really wanted was to be alone here with Estrella, maybe with Buck too. They could have some fun and be rowdy around the place, or he could cozy up somewhere with Estrella in the quiet. The polite, careful working relationship he had with Marley, Jack and Russel was becoming grating over time. He avoided Darcy as much as he could and lately he felt he was a few minutes away from having his hand slapped by a ruler if he got cross-ways with Pepper.
Passivity did not sit well. Rather than being directed, he wanted to lead. Yet he didn't know the technicalities of the filming or how to dress himself for best effect. He needed these people, much as he wanted to trade them off for others he could relax with.
He waited until he felt his body temperature rise to normal, then he scrubbed himself clean and got out of the tub. He dressed in warm layers, laced up his hiking boots, then went to find food.
Darcy was in the kitchen making French toast. She said nothing to him. Steve dug around in the fully stocked freezer then brought a ham steak to the sink. Darcy set a plate of French toast beside him while he submerged the meat in hot water.
"Thank you," he murmured.
He stuffed his face with Darcy's offering while the ham thawed. It was really good French toast, just the right amount of fluffy and moist, with the salt, sugar and cinnamon nicely balanced. He hadn't realized how hungry he was. He went back to the freezer and got another ham steak to thaw. Darcy moved out of his way when Steve got a black iron skillet to bring to the stove.
"I didn't know you could cook," she said from where she sat at the table.
"Not sure I'd call this cooking. I don't need it to taste good," he answered.
"In that case, you could probably eat it straight from the package. Those are usually pre-cooked or cured," she told him neutrally.
"Thanks. I'll warm it," Steve said briefly.
He lit the stove burner then set his ham on to heat. Something soft smacked him in the back of the head. A slice of French toast bounced past his ear and flopped onto the countertop by the stove, shedding cinnamon and sugar as it flew.
"Dammit, Lewis, I just had a bath," Steve grumbled.
He picked up the toast and stuffed it in his mouth, then felt the back of his head for any food residue.
"You're going to be a whiney bitch about it?" Darcy asked dryly.
Steve turned a bit to frown at her. Something in her eyes and the set of her lips almost made him smile. She was taunting him. Daring him. He turned back to tend to his cooking. It felt good to have someone punk him a little instead of walking quiet around him and giving him "Sir" and "Captain" all the time.
He heard her move again.
"Lewis, if you throw toast at me, I'm not giving you any meat," he warned.
It took an unlady-like snort and a guffaw from Lewis before he realized what he'd said.
He smiled, but he didn't let her see it. Instead, he moved the ham around in the skillet with a fork. His mouth watered as the savory smell rose to tease him. Indeed, the set aside packaging said that the meat was pre-cooked. Steve didn't waste any time being thorough. As soon as the lean cuts of pork started to brown, he took them off the stove and slid them onto a plate. A flying object nearly made him drop his food but his reflexes allowed him to set down the plate, close his eyes against the invasion of projectile sugar crystals, and snap his fingers around the edge of the paper plate Darcy had flung at him. He snapped it back at her with the same reflex.
The launched paper disc glanced off her face and to the floor. Her fingers rose to her cheek and came away with a smear of blood.
"Ow, fuck!" Darcy exclaimed quietly.
"You gave me a papercut. On my face," she glared at him.
"Don't be a whiney bitch. And don't throw things at me," he said back to her.
He got a knife for himself, another plate from the cabinet, and sat at the table adjacent to the annoying young woman. She looked at him with icy resentment while he cut two ham steaks into cubes with quick precision.
Steve slid a third of the meat onto the empty plate then put it in front of her. She quit pressing her fingers to her cheek when he held the fork out to her. It gave him an opportunity to inspect the cut he'd given her. He licked the pad of his thumb then wiped it across the tiny wound.
Her eyes cut to him and she spoke through a mouth full of ham while she chewed.
"Don't slobber on me. Aren't you going to apologize?"
"Can't," Steve denied.
He enjoyed letting her see he wasn't sorry at all that he wasn't allowed to apologize.
She narrowed her eyes at him. Her mouth was over-full. The chewing seemed to be a chore for her. Steve happily enjoyed his ham.
"Asshole. Give me the knife. You cut this too big," Darcy complained after she swallowed.
Steve poked another bite onto the tip of his steak knife, took it with his teeth, then handed her the knife.
"I didn't think anything could be too big for your mouth," he told her.
He made sure to inspect her as if he was truly pondering the size of her mouth.
She looked up from her cutting and over the rims of her glasses at him.
"Are you ill?" she asked.
"Me? Nah," he said. He took the fork from her hand.
"How the fuck am I supposed to cut it if all I've got is the knife? Do you expect me to hold it with my fingers?" she complained.
"If you say another curse word, I'll take you to the sink and wash your mouth with soap," Steve promised her, "I'm hungry. You can have the fork in a minute."
"Fuck that. I'll get my own," Darcy said.
She got up from the table and moved toward the silverware drawer. She stiffened to a halt when Steve's hand gripped the back of her head.
"Are you shitting me?" she yelled.
"I gave you fair warning," Steve said calmly.
Darcy yelled at him angrily while he carefully but surely controlled her to the spot in front of the kitchen sink. He turned on the water and reached for the liquid dish soap. She bit him when he shoved goopy soap fingers into her mouth. He didn't want to pull her hair, so he kept her skull firmly palmed in his hand. She had a clamp on his fingers, but he could still wiggle them around to smear her filthy mouth with soap.
"Nnnnr-Fkkkr!" she tried to yell.
He didn't intend for her to swallow the stuff. He moved her head to the running stream of water so she could rinse. Darcy struggled and fought his control. He stayed calm and kept her where he wanted her.
It was no surprise to him that her struggling turned him on. Almost anything would do it nowadays. He was used to the sensation and didn't feel that he needed to do anything about it. She was too bratty to arouse any genuine interest for him. Darcy made a lot of angry noises but she eventually stopped struggling and took in some water. She spit into the sink then rinsed again.
"What are you doing?!" Pepper asked as she came into the kitchen to investigate the noise.
"Lewis has a dirty mouth," Steve commented.
"Steven! Let her go!" Pepper admonished him.
He did so, and Lewis immediately turned and spat a mouthful of soapy water at his chest and neck. He'd expected no less.
Steve laughed.
Darcy had soap bubbles at her nose. Her eyes watered behind her glasses.
She opened her mouth to say something foul at him. He lifted an eyebrow and reached for the soap. Cool water soaked into his wool shirt and his undershirt. He didn't let it distract him from watching out for more misbehavior from Darcy. Pepper stood aside, aghast at his behavior. Her confused sputtering pleased him.
Darcy glared at him more than ever, but she bent to drink from the faucet until the awful alkaline taste was gone from her mouth.
"Is that blood? How was your face cut?" Pepper asked.
She hovered near them like she didn't know whether to help Darcy or slap Steve.
Steve handed Darcy a clean kitchen towel. She took off her glasses and dried her face with it, then threw it at Steve. He caught it and pressed at the spit-water on his chest.
"It's nothing, Pepper. It's a cut from a paper plate," Darcy said.
"How did a paper plate slice your face?" Pepper wondered.
Steve sighed. Darcy pointed to him.
"Hey, she threw it at me first! And she hit me in the back of the head with food before that," Steve protested.
"Food I cooked for you! You were supposed to catch it. I was trying to feed you," Darcy defended herself.
"I don't have a mouth in the back of my head, Lewis! I cooked for you too, so don't give me any of that bull-larky. We're even," Steve insisted.
"Bull-larky?" Darcy mouthed the words at him with a pained, disgusted expression.
"Children," Pepper admonished them, "Steven, you throw things for a living. You're a professional thing-thrower. You can't throw things at Darcy's face, even if she threw it at you first. Aren't we adults, here? I'm having trouble believing I have to lecture Captain America on manners. Geeze-Louise! Apologize to each other and we'll move on with our day."
Pepper was her boss and her friend. Darcy didn't like seeing her so out of sorts and distressed. It was painful to her pride to do it, but she complied.
"I'm sorry," she said to Steve.
He crossed his arms and stared down at her.
"Well?" Pepper prompted him.
Steve smirked at them both.
"Obeying previous orders, Ma'am," Steve told her.
Now it was Pepper who narrowed her eyes at him.
Steve shrugged and smiled angelically.
"I hate you," Darcy growled.
"Back atcha, doll," Steve drawled.
Darcy turned on her heel and left the kitchen.
Pepper looked after her for a moment, then turned to Steve.
"Am I dreaming? Did this just happen?" she asked him.
"'Fraid so," he said.
"Are you drunk? Did Thor send you some of that-"
"No, Pep. This is all me, no Asgardian mead," he told her.
"Are you alright?" she asked him.
There was a pinched line between her brows. He didn't like seeing Pepper upset any more than Lewis did.
"I'm fine. Just having some fun. Lewis gave as good as she got. She's tough," Steve said.
He wiggled his bitten fingers where Pepper could see. The deep red marks where Lewis had almost broken the skin were obvious.
"Steve, she's a woman. You're so much stronger. You know you shouldn't have… What's wrong with you? Why do I have to say this?" she asked.
"Exactly. She's a woman. She should have known better than to start things with me, because I'm so much stronger. Pepper, just because I'm a man and I'm strong doesn't mean I'm going to let someone run over me. She got what she asked for and I made sure not to hurt her," Steve assured.
"But what I walked in on… I couldn't believe!"
"Justice, Pep. I don't like a bully. I'll have no trouble respecting her if she respects me," he said.
….
Steve paused at the side of the house. Buck would make noise at him for going on a back country run completely unarmed, but he didn't want the weight of the shield or a firearm tugging at him every time he took a step. Much like time at the beach, this felt like freedom. It was simple and peaceful out among the rocks and the scrub brush alone. The landscape went on forever and he didn't feel done yet. The sunset was finally making the long shadows he'd been waiting to see so he stopped at the fence to memorize the details.
He'd run off in heavy jeans, a thick wool shirt, and hiking boots. The working heat of his body contrasted nicely with the evening chill. His ears picked out the sounds of small animals bedding down for the night, turning the watch over to the night creatures. At the moment, the brilliant blush of sunset was still victorious over the glooming shadows. That would pass quickly.
Steve didn't turn to look when the side door of the house banged shut. He could tell from the approaching person's size and shape that it was Darcy. Was she coming to snipe at him some more, or was Pepper making her apologize again? He held his position at the fence and continued to observe the details by which he wanted to remember his time in Wyoming.
Lewis quietly came to the fence beside him. She looked to him then away, as if to see what he was looking for. Her silence was unnatural for a person of her general sass and energy. Steve turned his head and smiled at the chorus of distant yips he could hear off toward the mountain. Coyotes. He'd never had a chance to hear them. It made him think of scenes from all the western novels he'd read. Scenes with campfires, speckled blue kettles and cans of beans. He shut his eyes and let the scenes play out in his head. Old cowboys, tired and sore. Horses with sleepy eyes and their tails swishing. Sounds of coyotes in the distant dark, just like this.
"What? Do you hear something?" Darcy whispered.
She looked wide-eyed toward the mountain. The angle of the shadows had changed in just the few moments Steve had closed his eyes. He wanted to run on, to spend a little bit of time getting to know the night creatures, just as he'd watched the day creatures for the past two hours.
"It's nothing," he told Darcy.
She was a city girl and likely wouldn't appreciate the idea of coyotes. She must have come out for a reason. He waited. She rubbed her arms anxiously and shifted foot to foot. She was cold. He had no empathy. She was free to go back into the house.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"You've already said that," he pointed out.
"I didn't mean it the first time," she admitted.
Steve flickered a glance at her. Bulky sweater. Yoga pants. Sneakers. Her big dusky-blue eyes behind her glasses, her masses of tumbling brown hair, and the full contours of her breasts under the sweater made her seem luxurious and female. Too bad she was so abrasive. Good thing she was so abrasive. Otherwise she looked inviting, like a blanket he'd like to wrap himself in. Warm and soft, yet deceptively prickly. A saddle blanket with sand burrs.
Steve chuckled quietly as more western clichés played in his mind.
"You're laughing at me? Why do people think you're nice?" she asked, her voice pitched low because of the quiet of the evening.
At least she honored the quiet. It was one point in her favor, along with the French toast she'd made for him. So many other points against her.
"Not laughing at you. Well, maybe, but only tangentially. A lot goes on in my head, Lewis. If you inspired a thought, it went somewhere else from there. No. Not anywhere dirty. I was laughing," he pointed out.
Steve looked up, toward the part of the sky in the east which was becoming dark blue. There were a few stars out plus Venus and Mars. The moon wouldn't be up for hours yet.
"You're completely anti-social," she accused him.
"I'm not here for you, Darcy. I'm trying to avoid confrontation. You got something to say? A reason to stand out in the cold?" he wondered idly while he watched the sky for shooting stars.
There was no light pollution, no metropolis glowing into space. The purple dusk slipped into black velvet night. The faint yipping of the coyotes turned into a few howls, then faded to lonely, beautiful silence. Except for Darcy Lewis.
"I wanted to say that I'm not angry. You might think I am. Pepper doesn't understand," Darcy said.
"What doesn't she understand?" Steve wondered.
Steve hadn't considered whether Darcy might be angry or not. He wasn't terribly interested.
"Sometimes I miss my brothers. We used to horse around. Throw things. Wrestle. It was fun. I used to beat their asses, until they got bigger than me. When I started losing, they wanted me to cook for them," she said.
"Sounds nice. I'm not your brother," he pointed out.
"I know. I guess I'm trying to make sense of it," she said.
"We already talked about this, Lewis. We want to fuck. That's why we're harsh with each other. You don't see me as a brother. You want a piece of me," Steve said, low and casual.
"Why do you get to curse and I don't?" she asked.
"I didn't curse. I used a verb in its most traditional definition, not as an irate expletive. Do you know how old the word 'fuck' is? It has a valid meaning and usage, you know," he said reasonably.
"You're misdirecting. I was trying to be nice to you and soothe your conscience if you felt bad from earlier," she said.
"I don't feel bad. Why should I? You started it. If you don't want to get handled, don't act like a child," Steve said.
"Do you really want to fuck me that badly? You're not this rude to anyone else," Darcy pointed out.
"See? Proper usage. I don't have a problem with that," Steve agreed.
Darcy stared at him in a way which seemed to have exclamation marks all around her face if he was to draw her expression in a comic.
"I'm not misdirecting. I didn't see a need to talk about it, but since you can't leave it alone… You're a cute lady, Darcy, but you're immature and a narcissist. That's unattractive to me. Since I have a lady I'd very much like to be with, I know what badly wanting to fuck feels like. You pale in comparison. So no, I'm not rude because I'm desperately turned on. I'm rude because you're rude and I'm done putting up with it," he explained.
"You think I'm a narcissist?" she asked quietly.
"You fit the definition, at least when you're around me," he agreed.
"By immature, do you mean that I enjoy having fun? I'm a responsible person. I take care of other people's needs and I pay my bills. Thinking fun is a sin is not a sign of maturity. It's a sign of priggery," Darcy said.
"So I'm a prig. Or, the Captain is a prig. It's all mixed up. I think I'm slowly learning how not to be a prig. No part of my life has been fun, Lewis. The desperation of survival tends to make one into a prig," Steve said.
"Now you're playing for sympathy," Darcy accused.
"You could see it that way, or maybe you're too fast to make a pessimistic assumption," Steve told her.
"We can agree that I'm a narcissist around you because I can't stop wanting a piece of you, and you're a prig because you righteously enjoy it, or because of all the reasons," Darcy laid it out for them.
"Excellent organizational skills," Steve commended her.
"Is that your way of saying yes? You could just say yes, you know," she said.
"Where's the fun in that?" Steve asked idly and tilted his head to look down at her with a smile.
She stared at him.
"Fun, Darcy. Get it?" he prompted her.
"Yes, yes, I get it. You're not a complete prig all the time. Only most of the time. Would you believe that I'm usually a nice, non-narcissistic person, except around you?" she asked.
"Alright, but you're still immature," Steve conceded.
"I am not immature. Life sucks! I am cheerful, irreverent, and playful in an attempt to strongly ignore how sucky life is," Darcy insisted.
"That's not what I meant. You are immature in that you don't control your sexual impulses for the sake of the social comfort of others who have already indicated to you that they're not interested. If you examine some of the things you've said to me, it would be considered definite sexual harassment if a man said them to you. Yet somehow you expect to be excused of it. What is that but bigotry?" Steve asked.
Darcy remained silent for a moment. He gave her credit that she actually thought about it for at least a moment before she spoke.
"But you're not disinterested. I know you're not. I only wanted a chance with you," she said.
"Do we have to talk about consent, Miss Lewis? Either you're not as modern-minded as you claim to be, or you think I'm ignorant of what affirmative consent means and you're looking to take advantage of me," Steve said.
Darcy's mouth worked for a moment, then she finally got her words together.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you really don't want me. I thought you were resisting because you're a moralistic prig," she admitted.
"Narcissist. Immature. You want. That's all that matters to you. I don't have to give a reason for not wanting you, even if I'm hard. I've said no. You think you're irresistible and that I'm nothing more than a dick, so I'd have no choice but to want you. It doesn't matter if I'm the worst moralistic prig ever, you don't have the right to ignore my lack of consent," he told her in low tones.
Steve didn't want his words getting back to the house in the quiet of the night. This was between him and Darcy.
"Oh my god," she whispered.
Steve watched as she hugged an arm around herself and put her other hand over her mouth. She seemed to finally understand what she'd been doing. It was proof that she wasn't an awful person. Still, he waited to be sure of her sentiment before he said anything comforting or forgiving.
"Oh my god! I'm a fucking rapist," she said, again in a whisper. She turned and leaned on the fence rail.
Steve didn't like her using the Lord's name like that, and there was the language again, but it seemed genuine and appropriate for her at the moment so he stayed quiet. She wasn't thinking about him right now, anyway. Her attention was internal, on self-examination.
"That's not true. You didn't rape anyone. Thinking something, even wishing it or fantasizing it doesn't make it a real physical act," Steve said.
Darcy was quiet for several more minutes. He didn't hear any distressed breathing. There was no smell of tears in the air. He appreciated her lack of feminine histrionics. She turned and took a quick step toward the house.
"Don't go. We're not done here," Steve told her.
Darcy stopped still. He could tell that she felt horribly awkward and wanted to flee his presence. Their situation required more maturity and complexity than a juvenile response. Darcy turned to face him. She stood like someone expecting a harsh reprimand but Steve only felt necessity and empathy.
"We have to finish this. To resolve it. We're going to be on the road with Pepper and the crew for days yet. I want to avoid awkwardness back at the tower if we can. I need to work with Thor and you're important to him. Can you tolerate a few minutes of maturity?" he asked gently.
Darcy sighed, then nodded. She likely couldn't see him well in the dim starlight. He could see her pained expression just fine. Her attitude wasn't resentful or dismissive, but very uncomfortable. Women were frustratingly complex. If she was a guy under his command, Steve could simply say "you screwed up, don't do that anymore," and that would be the end of it.
"I'm so sorry. I…-" she began.
He waited until it was clear that she didn't know what else to say.
"I appreciate your apology, but it's not worth anything if your actions don't change. I see two probabilities. Either you're the average sort of person and you'll quit pushing for what you want but you'll get resentful and vindictive. Or you're the exceptional sort of person who can rise above it and let it go so we can work smoothly among our friends and I don't have to see you as a threat to my future. If you tell me which sort of person you are I won't believe you. Your actions are what I'll believe, not your words. I think you might be exceptional because Thor isn't a fool. He's wise and has good judgement," Steve said.
"I didn't harass you on purpose. I was feeling instead of thinking. I can change," Darcy said.
"I understand. It's tough to keep the mind in control of the body. I struggle with that all the time. You don't need to fundamentally change who you are, Darcy. If you're cheerful, irreverent and playful because that allows you to cope then those are mostly good things. All I ask is that you stop pushing at me. You're cute and I respond to you but I don't want you. We're a bad match, all around," he said.
He knew it was a tough thing to hear when someone you wanted didn't want you, but she needed to hear it. She'd been very persistent at disrespecting his wishes. There was still more they had to do. She probably felt slapped down. Rejected.
"Can I go?" Darcy asked in a small voice.
"Sure you can, but I think it would be better if we didn't leave things like this," Steve said.
"What do you have in mind?" Darcy asked.
She sounded cautious. Skeptical.
"Let's go out. We need to walk off the awkwardness and the bad feelings. I have to go on dates. Now that you understand we're never going to be a couple, can you do that with me? As friends?" Steve asked.
"Right now? I feel like shit," she said.
"Life sucks. Let's go have some fun," he suggested, using her own outlook to persuade her.
"You're asking a lot. You don't like that I'm attracted to you. I don't know how not to be," she admitted.
"I was the ugliest, shrimpiest guy on the block. On several blocks. I was attracted to lots of people but I had to keep it to myself. I can teach you a thing or two, kid," Steve said with a smile.
Darcy laughed at his Bogart-flavored playfulness.
"That's the spirit. I saw a bar on the highway on the way in. They probably have music and a pool table. Good enough for you?" he asked as they walked back to the house.
"Can we take your bike?" Darcy wondered.
"No," Steve denied her.
Something in him didn't want Darcy on the bike.
"Are we really doing this?" she asked him as they went into the well-lit house.
Steve squinted in the bright light.
"Your choice, but I think it would be helpful. I don't hate you Darcy. We need to learn to work together and be civil. Maybe even have fun," he said.
Pepper watched them from where she was working at her laptop on the couch.
"Fun? Does the fun involve throwing things and blood?" she asked.
"No, Pep. Me and Darcy are trying to make peace. We're going out to the bar we saw on the highway," Steve said.
"That place looked rough," Pepper said.
She looked between the two of them. Darcy's downcast attitude was worrisome. Steve had patience and kindness on his face. Steve had alarmed her today but his behavior hadn't been entirely out of character if he felt he was dealing with an injustice.
"I've gotta shower, see you in a few," Steve said to Darcy.
He left the living room and headed for his room at the end of the hall.
Pepper waited until he shut his door and they could faintly hear his shower running. She patted the couch beside her and Darcy went to sit close.
"He'll never love you. He loves someone else," Pepper gave her as succinct a warning as she could.
"I know. That's what this is about. I was… I was wrong. I have to learn how to be his friend," Darcy admitted.
Pepper didn't want to say more, but she had to.
"Darcy, be careful. He's a good person but he can be dangerous," Pepper said.
"I know," Darcy said.
She squeezed Pepper's hand then hurried to her room to get ready to go out.
…..
Steve decided that since they were taking the SUV, they may as well bring Marley and Jack. He wanted Russel back at the house for Pepper. Nothing was likely to happen to her, but he didn't want her alone just in case.
The roadside bar was as raw as they'd suspected. The place was a simple concrete block structure with a metal roof. The door was rusty steel and the interior floor was old industrial vinyl that looked like it had needed sweeping months ago.
The four of them got noticed on their way in but it was the normal sort of assessment people gave to newcomers in a small town. After a moment the talking, smoking and billiards carried on as before. Steve made note of the three guys who might be any kind of trouble. He stared at them until they noted his attention, then they looked away. There could still be trouble, but at least they knew he was aware and unafraid of them. That tended to settle things before they got started sometimes.
People in the city had polite disregard tuned to a fine art. The patrons here showed none of that. Steve met their stares with curious looks of his own. He liked their casual, unpretentious style. Hardly anyone wore piercings or decorative tattoos and the ones who did were younger than the rest of them. It felt much like Texas with all the denim and leather, but even more remote and isolated. The people he led Darcy through on the way to the bar stopped scrutinizing him so closely when Steve allowed himself to show a bit of touristy gawking. That was an attitude they understood, so they seemed to sort of collectively roll their eyes and go back to their entertainments.
"Whiskey," Steve said to the bartender.
"Beer," Darcy said.
Steve tipped the man and they got their drinks promptly. The place was full but it was small enough that the bartender could give prompt service.
He touched Darcy's shoulder to guide her toward an empty stool in the corner behind the pool table. She wiggled up onto the seat then reached to set a stack of quarters in line with the other stacks.
She swigged her longneck bud light and Steve idly watched the local guys play pool. They were casually good, only playing to pass the time. Darcy was showing a lot of leg and their eyes kept wandering. She wasn't his girl so Steve didn't mind that she was getting the attention she'd dressed for.
His mind drifted to Estrella and Steve harshly shook his head to clear it. Buck was giving him the kind of silence that meant he was busy. Busy handling Estrella. Steve shook his head again and tipped his face down to pinch the bridge of his nose. He shifted his hips so his jeans wouldn't put as much pressure on his already sensitive groin.
"Cap? You alright?" Darcy asked him.
"Yeah, Lewis. Talk to me. Come on, you never shut up. Isn't there anything on your mind?" Steve asked for help.
"Mmm-hmm, but I'm not allowed to talk about it, like you're not allowed to say you're sorry," she said archly.
A glance at her face showed that she enjoyed the moment as much as he enjoyed not having to apologize to her. Her saucy, mildly repellent attitude helped to cool him down from thinking of Buck wrestling with…
"If we're going to take a turn at the pool table, are you going to use all your skills, or are you going to throw the game?" she asked.
Steve took a long, slow controlled breath and let it out again just as carefully.
"I haven't decided. It depends who's watching. I wouldn't throw the game for you, but I don't wanna draw attention from that guy," he said.
Darcy looked toward where Steve glanced briefly.
"Holy shit," Darcy hissed.
"Lewis," Steve growled.
"Grow up, Cap. It's not like you'd take me into the restroom to wash my mouth out. I saw that guy last month in a pay per view championship," Darcy said.
"I know. Clint was watching and I walked through the room. So yeah, throwing the game," Steve said behind a sip of his whiskey.
"Don't throw it. Beat my ass and let him see. He'll come over and want to play you," Darcy insisted.
"I know. That's why I'm throwing the game. We don't need that kind of attention," Steve said.
"Yes, you do. It's what we're here for. Marley has the camera. It's perfect!" Darcy enthused.
Steve looked at her.
"Alright. But what if I win?" he wondered.
"So what if you do? You're Captain America. You're probably the one guy he wouldn't mind losing to," she predicted.
Steve wasn't afraid to lose. He could take it in good humor and he might even enjoy it. If he won and the guy got prickly it may get them bad publicity instead of good. Darcy likely didn't know men as well as she thought she did. He decided he'd let it go and make his decision when the time came. Until then, he should make nice with Lewis.
He stepped close enough to her stool so she could hear him over the jukebox, the television behind the bar, the balls clacking on the pool table, and the people talking. Before he had his words lined up, she took a turn.
"You don't like language from me because it turns you on," she said.
"No. I don't like foul language from you because I'm trying to learn to respect you and I have trouble doing that when you speak like a rebellious youth instead of an adult," he told her.
Her hand reached out to pull him down a little because she still couldn't hear him when he'd started speaking.
"I don't believe you. Don't get me wrong, Cap. I'm not trying to seduce you against your will or change your mind. I'm wondering why I have to act like a nun around you. If it's not that, then why?" she asked.
Steve gently pushed her fingers from their grip in the front of his shirt.
"Do you talk that way around Thor?" he asked.
Darcy thought for a moment. Her brows went up.
"No, I don't. Maybe sometimes I do, but not…"
"Not as much as you do in front of me. Because you respect Thor," Steve said.
"I hella respect you too, Cap, but there's the thing," she said.
The way she said thing with her eyes told him she meant the unwilling attraction between them.
"Thor's a great guy. You don't find him attractive?" Steve wondered.
Darcy made a face, something like a dreamy smile doused with sour lemon.
"He feels more like my brother. He was freaking me out when we first met him, then Jane got stars in her eyes. She likes him so much that he can make her forget science just by walking into the room. I would never hurt Jane. She's like a puppy. He's taken. Plus, there was the destroyer, and Loki, and the evil space elves," Darcy pointed out.
"Negative associations?"
"Overwhelming associations. Jane thinks on a cosmic scale. No, on a universal scale. She's comfortable with that kind of thing. Thor is…" Darcy made a swishy hand gesture while she searched for a word.
"Too grand?" Steve offered.
Darcy wobbled her head in indecision, then nodded as if she was ashamed to admit it.
"What, and Captain America isn't?" he teased.
"You're not Cap. Most of the times I've seen you, you're a shit-weasel in an inflated body," Darcy said.
Steve laughed loud enough to get people's attention. He didn't care. It felt good to laugh. As his delighted humor mellowed into a mere smile, he noticed that Lewis wasn't smiling anymore.
Darcy was staring at him. She looked painfully hungry, like a hollow, starving girl. Not like Estrella had been. Lewis was gloriously well-fed. She looked like she was starved for affection more than anything else. Sex, done right, could temporarily substitute for what she needed. It was a kind of grief to see that look in her eyes because it reminded him of himself when he'd been small and nobody had the time of day for him. His heart had always been willing to love someone, but nobody had taken him seriously. Just as no one took Darcy seriously.
Darcy looked away and bit her lip. She pushed up her glasses and pretended to watch the action on the pool table.
"I know how that feels, Lewis. Words are too weak for it. I'm not gonna make you any empty promises that your man will come along someday. I had to learn to be happy alone," he said near her hair so she could hear without him having to raise his voice.
"Now you have her," Darcy pointed out.
Steve moved to stand almost directly behind her stool as the bar got a little more crowded. He folded his arms on his chest to put some distance between them, but he bent to speak quietly near her ear.
"If you've ever taken me seriously about anything then listen to me when I ask you not to talk about her," Steve warned.
Darcy nodded almost imperceptibly. Then she shivered. She'd only been teasing when she'd called him 'inflated'. He was very large and solid behind her. His presence was almost as electric as Thor's. Maybe more so because she wasn't attracted to Thor.
Steve sensed her difficulty and had mercy. He eased away from her for a moment.
"I'm not super like everyone else we know. If you keep touching me and getting close to me and growling in my ear, I'm going to act like an immature narcissist and then you'll act like a prig.
"Fair enough," he said.
"You said you could teach me things about keeping it to myself. How am I supposed to hide from you that you make me hot? You notice everything," she whispered.
"It got beat outta me, when I looked at somebody's sister and they saw me. I was little enough that the girls could smack me down easy if I got caught looking. I learned to play it cool out of self-preservation," Steve told her.
"Are you going to assault me if you catch me looking? If you're not, then I don't see how this is relevant," she said.
He liked that she didn't give him any of the fake female sympathy that other women might have at hearing about his past. Lewis was tough. She'd learned to be, first from scrapping with her brothers, then from making her way as a woman alone in the world, and now because of Asgardian destroyers and evil space elves. Because she was tough, she had no pity for him. That felt good. It was a form of respect.
Steve felt like he was getting somewhere workable with Darcy Lewis. If what she'd told him during their time today was true, then he had a better understanding of her motivations.
"I don't want to assault you. I want you to act like something important balances on you controlling your attraction," he advised her.
"Come on, Steve. It's a crush. How can it be that important?" she wondered.
"Because I need to work with Thor. If you don't learn some restraint, one of us is leaving the tower. I don't mind at all if it ends up being me who moves out but that would force a slower response time on the Avengers. Slower response time means people stay in danger for a few minutes longer before we can get to them. I don't like that but it's a choice I'll make. I'll do what it takes to keep the peace in my household," he said.
Darcy twisted to look at him for his strange wording and his chilly tone.
"Your household? Do you think you're the papa of us in the tower? Of the Avengers? Wouldn't that have been Director Fury?" she said under her breath.
Steve shook his head in the negative. He still had that same cold, hard look about him. Determination. It was hot as hell, except when it was directed at her. He looked to her expectantly, like she was supposed to figure something out.
His household… not the papa of the Avengers, but his household. To keep the peace.
Darcy's eyes widened. He was going to marry his Latina chick, the one she wasn't allowed to talk about. He was planning to be the big ole papa of their household and he didn't want his girl upset by any interactions with her. Shit! He was really, really serious about this.
He was so serious that she now understood what Pepper meant when she'd warned that Steve Rogers could be dangerous. Pep wasn't talking about a few months of heartbreak or suffering through encounters with a painfully priggish attitude. The man standing behind her would burn shit down, explode it, and bury it in ice to protect what was dear to him. He would bare-handed snap the heads off of people who wanted to hurt his girl if what she'd heard was true, which was another thing she wasn't allowed to mention.
Yeah, that's what she was seeing.
Steve continued to look at her with the same wordless resolve. Darcy turned away from looking back and up at him. He was somehow too much to look at, knowing that he meant every idea he'd carefully, purposefully implied. It gave her the creeps that maybe his firm handling of her head today while he washed her mouth with soap was possibly a subtle reminder of what he could do with his hands if he chose not to be gentle. Was he that good with nuance? She had no idea and now she was second-guessing herself.
"I knew you had to be smarter than you let on. Do we understand each other, Miss Lewis?" Steve asked with chillingly formal politeness.
She nodded her head and kept thinking. Thor was powerful, wise, and incredibly strong. Steve was fast, intelligent, and strategic. He was completely devoted to his Latina chick, no matter what his dick seemed to say. Thor would be able to avenge her, but he wouldn't be able to save her from whatever wrath she earned of Steve if she upset his girl.
Steve lightly touched her arm in what was meant to be a gesture of peace. Darcy moved away from the contact.
"Don't touch me," she whispered.
"Alright," Steve agreed.
Their stack of quarters was next. Darcy finished her lukewarm beer which she had set aside and forgotten.
They took the pool cues the previous players passed to them. When the table was set for the game Steve let Darcy break.
She was a good player but she knew from the start that she was only window-dressing. Steve wasn't all that experienced with billiards but he had an intrinsic facility with the physical interactions of matter, mass, and velocity. Partly because he'd scared her out of any kind of arousal, and partly because he was amazing to watch, Darcy did her best then stood aside and waited to see what Steve would do with the table she'd left him.
The player they'd seen in Clint's pay per view championship came close and watched their game.
It turned out that the gray-bearded gentleman was a good sport. Marley recorded some work they could possibly use in the PR campaign.
Darcy was tired by the time the evening was over and they drove back to Pepper and the house.
Markey and Jack hurried inside. Steve walked slowly toward the house. Darcy would have made tracks away from him but a quick glance made her stay close to Steve when the others went inside. The night was cold like a knife blade to the skin. The lights from the house looked safe and warm.
"Lewis. Darcy. I- uh… I didn't mean to be so intense. I mean, I meant exactly what I said. And what I didn't say. All of it. But I didn't mean it to come out so much like a threat…exactly," Steve said.
"Yes, you did," she argued.
"No, I didn't," he denied.
Darcy tried to breathe shallow of the biting cold air and she rubbed her arms.
"Okay, so the nice guy in you didn't mean it as a threat, but you didn't see you from where I was standing. Something in the rest of you meant it. That's alright. It should work, like you said. I'll learn not to mess with you if I get the feeling that my life depends on it, right?" she asked glibly.
"Crap. Lewis, I really didn't mean it that way. I wouldn't physically hurt you," Steve insisted.
"You don't know yourself as well as you think you do. I've seen enough of you now to know which parts are real and which parts are for show. Thanks for the date, Steve," Darcy said.
She gave him a smart salute which was somehow both respectful and sarcastic at the same time. Then, she went in the house.
Steve felt like a rotten bully. It had been his intent to talk Lewis out of crushing on him but he'd done something wrong and gone too far. Still, he'd done good work tonight. Some lessons were harsh but necessary. Good thing Lewis was a tough, smart lady. He hoped she let him start thinking of her as a lady.
Thinking about Estrella would require him to leave the house to get some privacy. He didn't want to do that. Steve stripped down and slipped into bed wondering what Lewis meant when she said he didn't know himself like he thought he did. He'd slept plenty last night, so he had hours of quiet ahead of him which he needed to fill with thoughts of anything but Estrella. The data they had about the remaining Hydra bases kept his mind busy while he lay in the dark and listened for coyotes.
….
Bucky didn't like keeping the girl drugged so much. With the healing effects of Steve's blood in her she'd probably be alright with the slight overdose of sedative he used to keep her quiet at night. If it was up to him they wouldn't be doing this in the middle of town where he had to keep her hushed. Since it was too late to move her to a better location at this point they'd have to make do.
Toward morning he stopped feeding her sedatives. Wanda tapped on the door before she left for work. Buck didn't think Estrella would want her friend seeing her as she was now so he was quick to get to the bedroom door before it opened. Wanda clearly didn't like the look of him shirtless, his skin scratched all to hell and his hair messed up, but she noted that his jeans were still securely fastened. Estrella made breathy unhappy sounds from the bed. Buck kept the door clamped firmly in his hand when Wanda looked like she wanted to get past him to check on her. The woman looked at the silver of his metal hand and changed her mind.
"Does she need a doctor?" Wanda asked in a whisper.
"We've got a medic available. I'll make the call if I need to," Buck told her.
The woman gave him one last disapproving look then left the apartment. Buck waited til the door was secured behind her then he went back to the bed.
Estrella looked, sounded and smelled like any guy's amped-up wet dream. Her skin was satin-shiny and slick with dampness, her dark hair stuck all over. Her damp top was a mere token effort toward decency, more provocation than protection with the way the fabric stretched over assets which hadn't been quite so bountiful a few days ago. Buck had allowed her to ditch the panties the last time she tried to get rid of them. When she wasn't drugged lethargic she was constantly moving, seeking relief she couldn't find. The panties had been like a twisted rope sawing at her. Her tender skin looked healthier without them.
He was tempted to take pics or video of her for posterity. Buck had nothing to prove to himself. He knew he was a depraved asshole when it suited him. He smiled at the thought of shocking Steve with how she looked right now. She lay still at the moment, breathing through parted lips, strewn with long sticky hair like a wanton. One of her arms was outstretched, tired from grasping and scratching at him. Her gorgeous gams were restlessly bent and splayed, drawing the male eye up to a view worthy of the very best porn shots.
Buck grinned at her and pinched at his bottom lip. All kinds of possibilities whispered in his head. He could do anything at all with her and not only wouldn't she stop him, she'd welcome him and likely not remember it.
Estrella's potent fecundity called to him even through the dampening effect of the stuff in his arm. Except for his loyalty to Steve he was pretty sure he'd indulge the urge. Instead, he stood grinning like an idiot at her. It felt great to feel anything. The hint of arousal he felt was mental instead of physical. It was tolerable, but like a persistent itch. He probably should find a way to thank Banner for the much-improved suppressant.
He wanted to call Steve home to get the girl thoroughly bred like she wanted. Sending Steve a short video of her would likely accomplish that. His phone was on the dresser within easy reach. Bucky balled up his hand and shook his head. It would be fun like he hadn't experienced in a long, long time to push all of Steve's buttons and get him in a frantic, undignified rush back to the city. Instead of indulging his inner asshole tendencies Buck left his phone alone and moved to tend to the girl like he was supposed to.
"C'mon, Wanda's gone. Let's get you fed," he murmured to her.
Bucky slipped an arm under her and supported her back and head. Estrella cracked her eyes open to look at him. Buck kept his gaze away from her face. Her incoherent mumblings and moans sounded sweet and encouraging. Thankfully she seemed to have forgotten that she was wearing her choker necklace. She'd stopped trying to take it off.
He hoped she was capable of eating despite the lingering effects of the sedative. Getting her to the kitchen was the easy part. Over the last few days she'd taken every opportunity to wrap her legs around his hips and cling to him with her arms. Right now she made little effort, other than to slump on him as he carried her first to the bathroom then the kitchen. He laid a towel on a kitchen chair and propped her up so he could get food for them.
While he got ingredients and turned on the stove he glanced to see her frowning at him. She tried to get up and come to him then decided she'd better stay at the table. Her legs were too weak to support her.
It didn't take him long to get oatmeal, cheese, orange juice, yogurt, and some pre-cooked beef hotdogs. Buck lifted her to sit astride his lap. Estrella rocked on him like he knew she would until he started pushing food at her. The lethargy of the drugs dulled her enthusiasm but he could tell from the way she gulped everything down that she was hungry. She made vaguely impatient gestures at him when he took a few bites for himself.
"Don't rub like that. Denim's too rough," Buck told her.
He set his left hand to her hip to still her grinding motions before she could abrade herself again. Buck hurried the last of the food into them. She needed a shower. He should probably burn his jeans. Or sell them for a million dollars. She was all over him and he knew they smelled like powerful sex-dope. Another grin curved his lips as he had an idea. He didn't put her damp shirt in the laundry. Instead, he set it aside for later.
His confidence in Banner's bio-chemistry work allowed Bucky to get the girl showered with a minimum of fuss. Maybe he didn't shampoo her hair as thoroughly as he'd done yesterday but his work was good enough to get the sweat and most of the scent temporarily off of them. He'd stopped counting the number of times she got off in various ways. None of her efforts calmed her for long but it wasn't hurting anything either as long as he could make her stop before she was sore.
The sedative was wearing off enough that she gave him some trouble while he put fresh sheets on the bed. She wanted his clean shirt off of him. Sweatpants weren't as effective at keeping her hands away from his junk but he was reluctant to put on his used jeans. Evasive maneuvers and a few careful shoves kept her off him long enough for him to get the bed ready.
Bucky wrestled her into a nightshirt then tumbled them both back onto the bed. He was getting bored of hours spent in the apartment, in the room, in the bed. Boredom didn't matter. He had a job to do.
What he would never admit to anyone was that he enjoyed how she touched him. His ma had shown him affection. His sisters, especially Lucy, had always been game for a hug or a piggy-back ride. Steve was a lot sparser with the contact because they were guys but they'd had their share of easy casual touch. Women were great back in the day when he could enjoy them. This was different.
Estrella squeezed, pressed and dragged at his skin. Along his sides, up and down his back, her mouth on his chest and shoulders as if she thought he tasted good. It had been annoying and too intense at first but he was adjusting to the sensations. Estrella wasn't trying to harm him, even when she bit or scratched or banged her head at him. She sought sensation. Comfort. Humanity. She made him feel like a person, a warm thing of flesh and blood and muscle, instead of the killing machine his mind warned him that he was. She wasn't afraid of him.
Bucky laughed softly when she unsuccessfully tried to push his sweats down with her feet. Her fingers tugged at his hair while her other hand squeezed at his lats under his shirt. It was difficult to keep his muscle groups relaxed. He'd found that when he tensed up from reflexive self-defense it excited her, tripped something in her brain which made her think she might get sex. That reaction wasn't good for keeping her quiet and calm so he forced himself to stay relaxed while she sought what she needed from him.
"Steve never stood a chance against you," Buck grumbled and turned his face away when she tried to make him look at her.
She was getting louder with her vocal demands and complaints so he talked to her. He'd learned that teasing her with short glances at her eyes kept her attention, probably made her think she was making some kind of progress in weakening his resolve.
"Heh! His Avengers are gonna have a hard time getting work hours outta him once the two of you are back under the same roof. He's not gonna put up with being apart forever, ya know. He's had enough waiting. A lifetime of it. You're pretty strong, girlie, but he'll get to you. Are you gonna make him leave his friends, his job? If you fuck around on him while he's away at work, I'll fuckin gut you. I know you're outta your head right now, but other than that, don't hurt him, huh?" Bucky rambled in a half-affectionate version of a shovel-talk.
Steve had been hurt a lot. He'd seen a lot of losses. It's not like he couldn't handle some more but Buck didn't think Steve would come out the other side as quite the same person if this girl hurt him. He could already tell that Estrella was going to go deep and put down roots in his friend.
"How much blood do you want from him? How long are you gonna keep him waiting? I don't think you know how hard it is for him to hold it all in. Maybe just a little longer, alright? He's been on two dates already, like you asked. I've been looking and I found pics of both times. There was Carter, then he took Lewis out last night. He's doing everything you asked," Bucky told her.
Estrella growled angrily at him.
"Yeah, Lewis. You know, big hair, big tits, big blue eyes? Darcy Lewis. They didn't look too chummy in the pics I got from the web, but he went out with her. Are you gonna find a guy to go out with after this? Twist the knife a little for him?" Buck wondered.
For a brief moment, Buck thought to glance at the security panel on the bedroom wall by the door. Jarvis flashed the light to let him know all was well. While his mind was working properly Buck had the thought that he was failing at his job. She might not be getting to him sexually but he was distracted. It felt good to be held, to be touched. He was alert enough to know he was under some kind of fog from the girl. It was risky to depend solely on the AI for their security but it was what he had at the moment.
"J, expand the surveillance. Use tertiary sources and watch the streets. Alert me if suspicious traffic shows a pattern in our direction. I want a three minute window for response," Bucky said.
"With such a broad field I may alert you to many false positives," Jarvis replied.
Estrella made happy noises and looked around the room.
"Hello, Miss," Jarvis said warmly, recognizing her rudimentary greeting.
"She's messin with my head. I'd rather have false positives than get caught with my pants down," Bucky told him.
"As it were," Jarvis commented.
Bucky ignored his dry tone. He noted the brief green flash at the security panel. Jarvis would comply with his instructions.
It was a long, sweaty day. He found that if he curled on his side, the girl would crawl all over him but be unable to molest him too much as long as he kept his left arm to his groin. She made him laugh with her frustrated efforts. At one point she perched on his hip and rocked herself to satisfaction and he couldn't help watching. He got caught in her eyes but she was confused. Whatever she wanted him to do was so muddled as to not compel him into anything.
After that was a lot of rubbing, crying and sleeping. Jarvis alerted him eight times to security concerns which turned out to be nothing.
Bucky tried to put up a cold shoulder to her insistent cuddling. He found it impossible to be completely emotionally detached from her. The entire reason he was here was to keep her safe and healthy for Steve. She was Steve's soft spot and that made her an extension of Steve in a way.
Steve was his only real link to his humanity. Steve was his conscience, what little remained of it. To treat her harshly would be to do the same to Steve. He didn't want to do that again. Natalia had detailed for him the injuries he'd left Steve with the day they'd taken Shield down. Buck wouldn't hurt him again if he could help it. So when Estrella wanted to be held, he held her. When she wanted something solid to rub against, he let her. He didn't let her get his pants off and he didn't let her get her hands in his pants.
She followed him to the kitchen when he wanted to get a drink or some food in her. During the worst of it, she wouldn't eat unless he made a sex game out of feeding her. That was fun and Steve probably wouldn't like it but it got her belly to stop growling. If Jarvis was recording all this he hoped only Natalia would ever see it.
By the time Wanda got home Buck was getting Estrella back on the sedatives for the evening. It wasn't just because of Wanda. The girl had rubbed herself raw again and she needed a break. This time it was Wanda who made supper and Buck was able to go out to join her at the table.
The woman glared at his disheveled, molested appearance while they ate.
"Look, don't ask, because you're not gonna like any of the answers. Thanks for the food," was all he had to say to her.
He brought some broth and a dinner roll to Estrella. It took him over an hour but he got the calories into her. Buck carried the girl across to the bathroom while Wanda was busy with the laundry. Later, in the middle of the night, his phone buzzed.
Tell me about her, Steve said.
I'd love to, but she made me promise to keep mum about all this. When she's lucid she's bashful about it, Buck replied.
Lucid? Why wouldn't she be lucid? Steve asked.
Because I had Banner send over a sedative for her. Your girl's a hellcat. I can let her claw and yowl during daylight hours when Wanda's at work but folks need to sleep at night. You better eat your Wheaties, pal, if you wanna keep up with her next time she's like this, Buck teased him.
There was a long pause during which Steve didn't respond. Bucky smiled, imagining his friend squirming on a bed of denied passion, tortured between desire for the girl and jealousy that he wasn't the one with her right now. The little text bubble appeared and went away three times before Steve successfully formulated what he wanted to say on the fourth try.
Are you…?
Buck laughed out loud. All that effort, and that's all Stevie could string together? He had to mess with him.
Yeah, he replied.
His phone did that Steve-thing where it rang once, then went live.
"Yeah, what? What the hell does that mean?" Steve demanded.
Buck hurried to press the phone to his ear to hopefully seal in the sound. Estrella stirred fitfully and flailed an arm at him.
"It means I'm having fun and that she's doing fine. Better than fine. She looks great, she's got lots of energy, and I'm keeping her safe and fed. That's all you need to know," Buck said.
Steve was stiffly quiet on the other end of the call.
"You gotta understand," Buck explained, "this is intense. I can see why she's putting you through it. She's vulnerable and she's gonna need attention and support. When you finally nail her down it won't be okay for you to leave her home to deal with this alone."
"Mmf," was all Steve had to say to that.
"You're gonna need someplace that's not here in the city and not at Stark's tower. I don't like using the sedative on her. If she wants to make some noise, she should have a place she can do that, right?" Buck said, already knowing how his friend felt about it.
Steve made another noise.
Bucky smiled. Estrella was shifting around in the dark, seeking to get closer to what little she could hear of Steve's voice from the phone.
"Hey, I got an idea. She's drugged to high heaven to keep her quiet and let her rest but she likes your voice. I'm gonna put the phone to her ear and you say what you want. She'll love that," Buck suggested.
"'right," was all Steve said.
Estrella went still and attentive when Bucky put the phone to her ear and Steve started talking. He would have liked to pretend he couldn't understand what his pal said but his enhanced hearing didn't allow for that. It was all bedroom talk, half of it growly sounds that didn't make any sense unless a person could interpret the base-brain grumblings of fools in love. Buck didn't know much about romantic love, but he knew Steve. The guy was stupid-gone on her. The little keening sounds she made in return were pitifully hopeful. She clutched at the phone and tightened her thigh around his. There was the rocking again and she was probably still rubbed sore from earlier.
"Cut it out. That's enough," Buck announced loud enough for Steve to hear.
By the time he pried his phone away from Estrella and rolled atop her to keep her from fighting, Steve had stopped talking. Buck grinned at the sound of him trying to get his breathing under control.
"Buck, how can you…?" Steve rasped in the characteristic deeper tone of voice that came out when he'd been mixed up with his girl.
"The stuff in my arm works. She's trying hard but it's not her fault. Don't be sore with her. Like I said, she's real bashful about it when I can cool her down and get her to talk," Buck reminded.
"Cool her down?" Steve asked ominously.
"Shit," Buck bit his lip between his teeth, knowing he'd said too much in his mentally muddled state, "When I put her in cool water her mind works better. She needs a shower sometimes anyway."
He figured if he was in for a penny, he may as well go all the way.
"You showered with her?" Steve seethed.
"Well, yeah. Putting her in there by herself wouldn't have accomplished anything. I kept my shorts on, scrubbed her up, then got her dressed," he admitted.
"You touched her," Steve growled.
"Had to, to get her clean. She sure as hell wasn't doing it on her own. I offered her the soap and she wanted none of it," Buck said.
He couldn't stop grinning. If Steve wasn't all the way on the other side of the continent he'd get his ass beat in short order. As it was, his pal had some food for thought until he could get home.
Steve made an aggressive sound Bucky hadn't heard before.
"Hey, cool your nads. I had to tend to your skinny little ass in a tub. Three times, spring of thirty-five. We could hardly keep the fever down and your ma was away at work. Same thing except she wasn't trying to die on me, she just needs cleaning," Buck explained.
"Did you touch her?" Steve growled.
"Not more than I had to. Relax. She may be outta her head, but it's you she wants. I can talk to her all day and not get a reaction outta her like when she hears your voice. The two of you gotta stop futzing around and make this official. Believe me, pal, she wants you. She just needs to feel secure that you're gonna tend to her proper," Buck assured him.
Steve made a sound full of frustration and longing.
"Yeah. You need to get shit done and get home. And hey, grow some balls, will ya? Nobody's impressed. Ask out a girl you don't already know. Carter and Lewis already have the hots for ya and you know it. Work up some moxie and ask a stranger out," Buck taunted him.
More grumbling.
"What? All I can hear is little Stevie over there whining that girls are mean. Man up. Go out with somebody you don't know," he said.
Steve was quiet for a while. Buck was about to end the call.
"Thanks," Steve said.
It was only one word, but all the piss and attitude was gone. He meant it.
Buck had to think before he responded with something flippant.
"I'd do anything. I told ya so. We want this for you, Steve. Me, and Talia, and Jarvis," he said.
Steve made another sound, then the call ended. Buck smiled in the dark and tucked the girl's grabby hands back under them. The weight of both their bodies would hopefully keep her from grasping at the phone for at least a minute.
No crying, angelface. For once in our lives, something good is happening. Go with it and try not to think too much, he texted to Steve.
In California, Steve rubbed at his eyes. He wanted to punch Buck right in the mouth and then he wanted to hug him. If it weren't for the responsibility of his job he'd be all over getting Estrella to change her mind about waiting to marry. It was good to stay busy and away from her because he knew she needed time but the frustration was making him a little crazy. Buck knew that like no one else did.
Everything Buck said about Eya and hearing her voice, listening to the pleading in her tone had him painfully hard. For tonight they were at Tony's new place in Malibu. His suite afforded him some privacy. Steve pushed the covers down and reached to massage the pressurized tension that made him feel like he couldn't stand to be in his skin if he didn't do something to ease it.
Don't wear out your dick. You're gonna need it eventually, Buck taunted him one last time.
Steve sent him back a rude emoji and tossed his phone away. If he wore it out, it would heal.
…
"We need to get back to New York," Pepper said.
Steve rubbed a towel at his hair then passed it back and forth behind his back. There was sand in his shorts but that could wait until he got up to the house. He didn't want to be distracted with trivial things if there was trouble.
"How soon?" he asked.
They walked up the beach toward the path. Marley and Jack gathered the gear they'd used to get today's material. Steve suppressed a shiver at the memory of cold Pacific water around him, trying to suck him down. He could have drowned today. Since the water was merely cold and not freezing, his body may not have protected him the same way as when he'd been in the ice. He'd chosen to get in the water to get the video they needed for the PR work but he was glad it was over.
"Clint is coming. There's no emergency. It's not Avengers related. Tony wants to show you something, which is also unrelated to why we need to go home," Pepper told him as they made their way up the side of the beach cliff on the path.
Pepper's look told him that whatever the issue was, it was something he'd rather not discuss in front of the film crew. Steve looked to Russel, who nodded to him. A glance around at the beach and the ocean below them showed there was no reason he needed to linger. There was only a woman jogging with her dog and two surfers out in the water. Steve bounded into a run up the path to the house. He slowed to a jog across the terrace, then into the glass doors. The house was cavernous and showy inside as Stark houses tended to be.
"Over here," he heard Tony's voice to his left, past the main room.
Steve jogged into the doorway of the home office and shut the door behind him. The room smelled of leather and liquor and the big exotic wood desk which served as the platform for the glowing blue projection of Tony Stark.
"Help me, Obi-Wan. You're my only hope," Tony said to him.
"Are you being held prisoner?" Steve asked with a smirk.
It was good to see Tony, even if it was only a projection of him. He looked ragged and tired, as if Pepper being away from the tower wasn't good for him getting any sleep. Steve felt a moment of guilt for that.
"Talk to me," Steve said in a more serious tone.
"We've got a woman calling for you. And there's this guy…" Tony said.
Steve's phone buzzed in his hand and he looked at it and at the forwarded security camera image which Tony showed him from the lobby of Avengers tower. The familiar guy in the lobby of the tower was the same person calling his phone.
"Real time imagery?" Steve asked.
"You bet. Go ahead. Answer it. I want to hear this," Tony said.
"It's not your business, Tony. I'll call him back in a minute. Tell me about the woman. Is it her?"
"Yeah. Dana Harding wants your number. We know what she's after. You said you have a statement prepared?" Tony asked with a fair degree of sympathy.
"I wish it hadn't come to this but I'm ready for it. Can you put her through here? Record everything," Steve said.
"I'm seeing a swimsuit and a lot of skin. Are you trying to encourage her?" Tony asked with a trouble-making smirk in his expression that was visible even through pale blue imagery.
"Smartass. Audio only," Steve said.
He appreciated that Tony was here for him in this. Steve knew his mild teasing was meant to help him dilute how awful the next few minutes would be.
Audio of a call in progress came to him in the Malibu office.
"-ogers. Steve Rogers. Don't lie to me, bitch. I know he lives there!"
"Thank you, Cheryl. I'll take it from here," Steve said to the receptionist in New York.
The woman who'd been holding the call at the front desk left the connection. The tone changed slightly, indicating that their call was now private.
"Miss Harding. This is Steve Rogers. You wanted to speak with me," Steve said.
"Steve! You darling man. No one can find you anywhere except on the internet. Are you really out west somewhere?" Dana asked him with glaringly false cheer.
"Why are you calling me? My association with you was temporary, as we agreed," Steve reminded her.
"Oh, that! I know you really didn't mean it. We were amazing together. We had so much fun and I helped you relax. If you don't want to see me again that's alright but I need a little help, just this once," Dana nearly cooed at him.
"If you need assistance you should call the police, Miss. I'm not on duty to assist anyone," Steve told her.
"It's nothing like that. I don't need the Captain. I need you, Steve. To support me and our baby," Dana said.
"I don't have a baby with you, Miss Harding. Tests showed that you were not pregnant after our encounter. If you're pregnant now, it's not mine," Steve said.
"Your tests are wrong. Nobody can get a pregnancy test the morning after and have it come out true. Don't be that way, honey. All I need is a little support then I won't bother you again. Come on, how's it going to look if Captain America won't support his own child?"
"It doesn't matter how it will look because I don't have a child. I have the pregnancy test results to make my case. If you want money I suggest you find a different source of income. You won't be getting anything from me," Steve informed her.
"Listen, you rich prick. You got me pregnant and you owe me. You'll pay or I'll go public with everything. Your lily-white Captain act is a load of shit and I'll make sure people know it. You're nothing but a suit, like any other big daddy. You don't scare me. Now you can send me the money, or you can watch me on the news tonight spilling every juicy detail. Ten o'clock, channel four. I'm standing outside their office right now," Dana threatened him.
He could hear some street noise on her end of the call so she might be telling the truth.
Steve looked at the clock on the wall in Tony's office. Dana wasn't very good with numbers. It was already too late for her to make the ten o'clock news in New York. That wouldn't stop the NBC station from scooping up her story for the twenty-four hour news cycle but her threat wasn't as pointed as she thought it was. She was also missing some other important logic points but she didn't need to know that right now.
"Miss Harding, could you give me some time to get back to town so I can make this right? Like you said, I'm out west. I should be home by morning. I'll be able to help you then," Steve told her.
Tony's image on the desk rubbed a hand over his mouth and made a face like he was trying not to laugh. Steve didn't think this was funny.
"See, it's not that hard, honey. If you want to play nice I can make it good. We might even turn our relationship into something more rewarding for you. You've got my number now? You'll call me in the morning when you get home?" Dana asked sweetly.
"I promise I'll make everything right, first thing when I get home," Steve assured her.
"You're so sweet. But… you didn't ask how much I want," Dana said, beginning to sound suspicious.
"Does it matter? I'm rich," Steve assured her.
"Oh! If it doesn't matter, then… I'll think on it. I'll be waiting for your call. First thing tomorrow," Dana sounded supremely pleased with herself.
"Yes, Miss. In the morning," Steve agreed.
Dana giggled and ended the call.
Steve sighed and rubbed the towel over his face. He stepped closer to Tony's image and rested his fist and the towel on the desk.
"That was creepy. It was perfectly civil, except I know you. So it was creepy. You promised her you were going to make everything right and that you were going to help her. Legally, I wouldn't have advised that. Unless- you're not going to pay her, are you? You could. But then it validates her claims and she'll eventually be back for more. Tell me you're not-"
"Shhh, Tony," Steve made a soothing hand gesture, "I'm not paying her. I said exactly what I meant. I am going to make everything right, by everybody. I will be helping her. She doesn't know that she's going to make herself a target for Hydra and I'm going to try to minimize that danger. I didn't say anything untrue and for now she's happy. That buys me time to do what I need to do."
"You're spending too much time with Romanoff," Tony said.
Steve let the implication that he'd lied to the woman pass without comment. There were more important things he had to do right now than argue with Stark.
"Who should I contact?" Steve asked.
"Ask Pep. She'll know the best answer to that. Since you don't trust me, why would you bother to ask me anyway?" Tony snarked at him.
"It's not- I trust-," Steve sighed again, and lifted his arm to grip a fist in his hair. He gave a satisfying tug, then let his hand fall to his side.
"I trust you, Tony. With my life. With almost everything. You've been great with this. Very supportive, very helpful, and it means a lot to me. I know you have more experience than I do in these things, but you gotta let me handle it my way. I'm thinking long. There's a reason," Steve explained.
Little blue Tony made a thoughtful face, then waved a hand at him.
"The man with the plan. Fine. I'll stay out of it. Let me guess, you don't want me listening in when you call back doppelganger guy?" Tony asked.
"It's family. You'll know soon enough. Goodbye Tony. Thanks for being on point for me," Steve said with genuine warmth.
Tony nodded slightly then his image blinked out to nothing.
Steve lifted his phone and returned his most recent call.
"Where are you, man? Why won't anybody come down?" Jesse asked.
"Because I don't want you associated with me or my pals and they know that. What are you doing in the city?" Steve wondered.
He'd seen the security image. He was pretty sure he had it figured out.
"Where is she? Just send her down if you're too busy. I didn't come to see you," Jesse told him.
"I'm not in town and you can't see her right now," Steve said.
"Tha fuck I can't. What have you done with Eya? Why doesn't she answer her phone?"
"It's family stuff, Jesse. She's indisposed right now. I wish you would have called ahead. I'll be home soon. Let me get you a room. You can see her if you stay a few days but you can't see her right now," Steve told him.
"Indisposed? What the? Oh. Yeah. She called me a little while ago and asked me some questions about that shit. I can handle it. We're kin. This stuff doesn't work that way with us," Jesse assured him.
"I don't believe you. Val's voice worked on you. Why should this be any different? She doesn't need that kind of trauma, Jesse. Give it a few days. See the sights in the city. Then maybe she'll be ready for some company," Steve bargained for some time.
If Jesse said he understood what was going on, maybe he did. Steve wasn't privy to what she had or hadn't told her cousin about her personal things.
"I'm not leaving til I see her," Jesse promised.
"I don't blame you. You've come a long way. Let me make a call and see what I can do. You need to be careful. Those people, the ones I had to deal with in your territory…they're not the only threat. I want you to see her but I'm not going to let you lead danger to her. She's safe where she is, so if you go to her from the tower you'll take the long way around and you do it exactly how you're told to. Understand?"
"Sure, man. Whatever. I want her to be safe," Jesse said.
Steve could almost see him shrug.
It was funny how talking to Jesse, even though he was on the other side of the country, brought him a feeling of simple rightness and the feeling that he'd temporarily felt on vacation, like he was only a guy, not a science experiment. Steve considered Jesse to be family, like a new brother. Jesse wasn't business. He was a connection to Estrella. To Alberto and Val and to Rita. Hearing his flippant Tex-mex accent made him want a hug from Rita. It made him think of sunshine and fun on a warm beach instead of a cold one.
"Are you hungry? There's a diner to the south side of the lobby. It's open late. You can take a load off and eat on my account. Let me. I wish I was there to welcome you," Steve said.
"I could eat. Where are you?" Jesse said as he looked around. He found the entrance to the diner and walked toward it.
"California. I've got transport outbound to get me. I'll be home in a few hours. Sit tight and I'll get back with you in a few about Eya," Steve told him.
"I'm sorry I showed up at a bad time. I didn't expect everybody to be busy. I should have let you know. Or her," Jesse grumbled.
"It's alright, we'll work something out. I'll get back to you soon," Steve said.
He ended the call, then immediately texted Buck.
Tell me how she is. Things are happening, I don't have a lot of time to chat. It's been eight days. Is she getting any better? How long until she can have a visitor? Not me.
Steve made his way through the Malibu house toward his suite. He had to get ready to move. He needed a shower and he needed to talk to Pepper. She was in the kitchen with Darcy. Steve slung his towel over his shoulders and went toward the women and the stools at the kitchen island. He was hungry from his time in the ocean fighting to get the video they needed and to keep from drowning. It wouldn't hurt to eat something while he waited for Buck to respond. He kept his phone in his hand and nodded a greeting to Lewis.
She did a good job of not-quite staring at him even though he wasn't wearing much. In the two days since they'd gone out they'd found a kind of truce. They were neither antagonistic nor polite to each other. They merely treated each other like humans sharing the same space. That was good enough for Steve.
Pepper handed him a fruit smoothie in a large glass.
"Thanks," he said before he took a sip.
He craved something more substantial than a smoothie but he'd take any calories he could get right now. The last light of dusk glimmered dully on the ocean beyond the windows, the night purpling to black.
Steve glanced to Darcy briefly.
"Darcy, please go get our things together. Clint is coming," Pepper said to her assistant.
"Dun-dun-duuuunhh," Darcy intoned ominously, as if Clint was an approaching boogey-man.
Steve and Pepper smiled a little as Darcy went.
Once she was gone, Steve was free to ask Pepper what he needed to know about trustworthy media people back home.
Pepper put out a hand to rub at his arm. It was soothing, along with the momish way she looked at him.
"I'm so sorry this is happening to you. If there's any other way we can help, Tony or I, just ask," she offered.
Steve pulled her into a hug, kissed her on the head, then let her go. Pepper smiled up at him and Steve frowned slightly at seeing a little bit of heat in her eyes. Pep was confusing sometimes. She was like a pestering mom. Then she showed hints of being a woman. Maybe he was pushing it, hugging her when he didn't have a shirt. He hadn't meant it that way. His skin heated in a flush and he stared down at his feet.
Pepper laughed softly then she took his head in her cool hands. She bent him down a little and kissed him on the head, as he'd done to her.
"Sweet boy. Silly man. Men tend to disregard women, to think of us as simple because they don't understand our motivations," she told him.
"Never claimed to understand em," Steve murmured.
He was still red, still confused.
"Darcy is making an effort, but don't ask so much of her so soon. Go get dressed," Pep suggested.
Steve almost shrugged off the resentment of being told what he already knew he needed to do. Then he didn't. He should be honest with Pepper. She deserved it.
He gave her a hard look and held her gaze until the moment became uncomfortable. Pepper looked away and pursed her lips to keep from smiling.
"Alright. I'll stop that. It's not like you're Tony and need to be reminded of everything," she said.
Steve felt he should apologize. Pepper saw that too. They stared at each other for a moment longer in a little contest of wills. They broke into quiet laughter at the absurdity of mentally arguing over a withheld apology. Steve squeezed her hand briefly, then took himself and his smoothie off to shower and dress in preparation for Clint's pickup.
She was way better today. I don't think I need to sedate her tonight. She was up talking but she's still sweaty and cross. Probably be almost normal tomorrow. Until her scent is gone, a visitor would be pointless. Unless it's a woman? Buck responded.
Steve stood in the luxurious guest suite bathroom. He stripped off his sandy swimsuit and reached in to get the shower going.
Let's give it a try. Don't hurt him. Tomorrow morning, Steve said.
I was planning to get out of here tomorrow. I need a change of clothes. Can't it wait? Buck complained.
Sure, if you need it to. I can find a place for him to stay until you're available or until she's able to have company without you around. Let me know when, Steve conceded.
Nah, I'll hang around for longer. Send him in the morning. It's not like I have anywhere to be except this tiny apartment, Buck said.
What're you complaining about? Wanda's place is bigger than a cryo-cylinder, isn't it? That's gotta be an improvement, Steve taunted him.
Why, I oughtta… Buck replied with plenty of implied attitude.
Steve smiled and got into the shower. He wasn't fooling himself. He knew what he was doing. He dreaded the public spectacle he was going to have to walk into because of Dana Harding and what he'd done with the woman. Tony was a pal, despite being annoying. Pepper mothered him a bit too much, but it showed that she cared. Buck was strong enough to take his shit and razz him, even when he didn't know something was going on. He needed his friends. Sam and Thor would be welcome, too. Nat was an odd bird. He knew she'd stand at his back no matter what, ready to cut down anybody who came at him, but she'd just as soon cut him for being stupid and messy and getting caught. She'd consider it a deserved and necessary lesson. He wouldn't get any teasing or sympathy from her, only cold, useful results. That was comforting in the way she knew how. The support of his friends, in whatever form, was a blessing that helped him face the coming mess.
He wouldn't think of Estrella. He was going to have to let her and Buck know what was happening before they saw it like the general public. That could wait a few hours. It was time to be smart, not emotional. He needed to consider how to avoid the worst damage to his associates and be mindful of legal matters. If Cap had to fall, so be it.
Steve got himself clean and sand-free then he got out of the shower. He dried the drips from his face and reached for his phone.
"Jarvis, listen in," he said.
"I am prepared, Captain," Jarvis responded.
The Jarvis in California didn't sound as personable as the one in New York. His tone was stiffer, not as nuanced with emotion. Weren't they the same AI? Steve didn't have time to think on that right now. He made the call he needed to make.
"Jesse, did you eat?" he asked when the call connected.
"Yeah, thanks. What do you know?"
"You can see Estrella in the morning. We need to get you away from the tower. Jarvis is my assistant. He's AI. He'll be in your ear. He'll guide you around the city and to a place to stay tonight. Do what he says. It doesn't matter what it costs, Eya's safety is more important. I'll cover expenses and I don't want to hear any backtalk about it. I don't have the time right now," Steve instructed.
"Artificial Intelligence, AI? You're serious?" Jesse wondered.
"Yes," was all Steve said.
"Alright. Lead on," Jesse said.
"Please give Eya a hug for me. I haven't seen her in days," Steve said, then he ended the call.
He had time to shave, get dressed and get his bike ready for transport. Jack, Marley, and Russel would be taking the SUV home cross-country and editing video while they travelled. Pepper and Darcy would fly back to the tower with Steve.
He ate his share of the Chinese takeout Darcy had ordered for them. There was a little bit of time to find the contact information he needed, and then Clint arrived. The quinjet set down at the piazza in front of the house. Steve rode the bike up the ramp and secured it then went to greet Clint.
"Thanks for coming for us. Did you get enough downtime?" Steve asked him.
"I'm good," Clint said.
He looked healthy and well-rested. Maybe a little more padded and tanned than when he'd left. Clint's demeanor was frosty and sharp as he readied them for takeoff. The jet's wing turbines hadn't fully spun down from landing before Darcy and Pepper joined them. Steve helped them with their bags then went to take the co-pilot's seat.
"I need some flight time," Steve said.
"Suit yourself," Clint agreed.
Steve noted the long brown scab that ran from Clint's wrist up the outside of his forearm. It looked days old, thickly crusted but still seeping in places.
"Accident. Good memories," Clint said with a hint of a smile around his eyes.
Clint was a private man, even more closed off than Natasha in some ways. Steve didn't question him about the scabbed flesh wound. He ran through the pre-flight checklist in his head and his fingers and eyes moved to the necessary gauges and controls. He checked the atmospheric conditions and the flight paths of the other aircraft in the sky. Then he got them in the air and headed for home.
"Do I need to know?" Clint asked sometime later after the ladies were busy doing their own thing in the back of the jet.
"No reason not to tell you. Let me make some calls first," Steve said.
He engaged the sonic privacy barrier that separated the cockpit from the rest of the cabin. Clint listened to his side of the calls with open curiosity because it was clear that he was being allowed to do so.
"That bitch?" was all he said afterward.
Steve looked to him briefly and nodded. He'd thought it would be a longer conversation, but Clint got it with few words. The slight firming of his jaw was sentiment enough for Steve to know what Clint thought of it all. He wondered at how cheery and normal Clint seemed to Estrella. He still hadn't figured out why the man acted that way around her and it didn't seem the time to ask.
…..
Valeria groaned irritably and groped her hand toward her phone. She'd stayed up late texting a boy for half the night and she did not want to wake up for school. She fumbled for the alarm icon on her phone screen and squinted her eyes at the twinkle-bling flash of color. That didn't make sense. It was still dark outside. Not like almost dark because she'd snoozed the first few times the alarm went off. It was Dark dark outside. And the twinkle-bling? Her mind cleared some and she sat up.
The twinkle-bling setting was only for one person, not that he ever called her. She grabbed at her phone more securely and rubbed her eyes. It was him! She wasn't dreaming.
She thought she'd be excited if he ever called but the more she thought on it, the more her gut clenched with worry. Was Eya alright? Was something horrible happening?
"Steve?!" she asked in a hurry as soon as she decided she wasn't dreaming and answered the call.
Adrenaline raced through her veins. She felt giddy and dreadful at the same time.
"Put your necklace on, sweetheart. Wake up. I need to talk to you," Steve's low voice said.
"No. No. No, no. Tell me Jesse is okay? Did his plane crash? Is Eya okay?" she asked in a hurry.
She reached for her necklace and put it on but she couldn't wait in silence. Steve was far too calm, as if he had really bad news.
"Jesse is fine. So is Eya. I'm sorry if I scared you," he said.
"It's four in the morning. Are you okay? Why are you calling me, Gringo?" she asked.
She kept her voice down because she didn't want her parents to come and get nosey into her conversation. Nobody called. Everybody texted. Only old people would call. Like Steve.
"I need to talk to you," Steve said.
He didn't sound playful about her name calling.
"You already said that. So talk. You're being weird," Valeria told him in a whisper.
"I messed up, Valeria. It was weeks ago, before I met you and your family. Before I was dating Estrella. Me and Eya were friends and she knew what I did, but we weren't dating. I wouldn't do that to her," Steve said.
"Do what? You slept with somebody you weren't supposed to? You're Captain America. Cap doesn't do stupid shit like that," the teenager said.
Was she still asleep, still dreaming? This was too freaky. Why the hell would Steve call her and tell her this? He was really hot, but the more she knew him through listening to Estrella, he was really old, too. He shouldn't be calling to tell her sketchy stuff at four in the morning. The dream-like sense of unreality faded as Steve told her more.
"Don't do that, Val. I'm not my job. I'm a person like anybody else. I'm sorry. I don't want to put this on you. It's going to come out so I don't have a choice. If you don't see it on the news in Corpus it might be on the internet. Kids might talk about it at school. I think of you and your ma and pa as family. I don't want you to be the last to know and I don't want you to hear rumors or lies. I was with a woman I shouldn't have been with. She says she's pregnant but we know she's not. She was tested and we know it's not mine. She thinks she can get money from me because of who I am," Steve said.
"That bitch!" Valeria exclaimed, then clapped her hand over her mouth.
"Val," Steve admonished her.
"That's what she is. Okay, she wanted to get with Cap. I get it. She shouldn't do that to you. To lie like that. And now she wants money when you told her it's not yours? You tell me, what is she other than a bitch?" she continued in a furious whisper.
"To be fair, guys use girls all the time, get them in trouble, then claim the baby isn't theirs. It's going to sound like a plausible story to a lot of people," Steve reasoned.
"But you know it isn't yours. Doctor Banner isn't stupid. You've probably got the best medical staff in, like, forever. I think y'all can ace a pregnancy test," Valeria pointed out.
"I appreciate the vote of confidence. That's not why I called. I did mess up, Val. I was with that woman. I can't lie about that. I wasn't going to come out with it-"
"Because you didn't want to damage El Gringo, but now the puta wants money, so he gets a black eye. Couldn't you keep it in your pants? You're a hundred years old," Valeria pointed out.
Steve chuckled softly.
"Apparently not," he said.
His humor wasn't genuine. It was self-deprecating and sad. She looked at her Captain America poster in the almost-dark of her room. He wasn't supposed to sound like this. But this wasn't Cap. It was Steve, the regular guy Eya loved. Maybe he wasn't exactly regular but close enough.
"That's not a nice word, what you called her. Don't," Steve said.
"Shut up. I'm mad. She doesn't get to be mean to you, to lie about you," Val insisted.
"Yes she does. It's a free country. She can say what she wants. She hasn't had a good life and she sees this as an opportunity to make money. It's survival for her. Opportunity. I understand what she's doing but I'm not going to let her push me around. I'll be on the news. Or the internet, if it's not big enough for national news. I don't know how big El Gringo is down there," Steve said.
"Eh. He's at least as big as Rey Mysterio," Valeria said.
"I'll have to look that up," Steve said.
"Don't. I was joking. If you don't know who it is, then the joke didn't work and I don't want to you to feel bad later. He's a performance artist. What you do is real," she told him.
"Thanks," he said humbly.
"So what are you going to do?" Valeria asked him.
"I've got a meeting with some people. I'll tell the truth, and then the woman-"
"Puta," Val insisted.
"-won't have any leverage over me. I'm sorry, Val. Please tell your parents I called, and that I'm not saying I didn't do it. I want them to know it was before I was with Estrella, and we know the baby isn't mine, if she's pregnant at all. Estrella knows all about it. She knew from the beginning," Steve said.
"Be careful what you say. I know you're stupid honest and all, but you don't have to tell people everything. Maybe you could ignore the woman, like it's so ridiculous and not worth your time to respond, and she'll just go away?" Val said.
"I've got this. I know what I have to do and what I have to say. I only wanted to let you know what's about to happen so you're not surprised. Thank you for trying to help. Tell your ma I feel like I could use a hug next time I see her. If she wants to slap me first, that's alright," Steve said with a smile in his voice.
"You don't do that. You're a good guy. You made a mistake. We all do. Don't let it make you look weak. That's what they want," Val whispered cryptically.
"It's what who wants?" Steve asked for clarification in a whisper.
It was fun. Valeria was in that funny place between the wonder of a child and the growing wisdom of a young adult. He really wanted to know what she thought.
"You know, the bad guys. They don't just want to defeat you or kill you. They want to make you look bad and undo everything you ever stood for, to make your whole life look wasted," Valeria said.
"Yeah. I get that," Steve said.
He was surprised that she understood it as well.
"Oh, and Val?"
"Uh-huh?"
"If you hear or see people saying unkind things about me, let it slide. You can't let anyone know that you know me," he reminded her.
Valeria heaved out a resentful sigh.
"It's a safety thing. Please?"
"I won't say anything. You, go and be strong. Don't be sad," she told him.
"Aye, Ma'am," Steve said.
Valeria liked that she could hear a smile in his voice.
…
"Put some real clothes on. Wear a dress or something," Bucky told her after breakfast.
"I don't want to. It's hot in here," Estrella said.
She'd volunteered to shower so she was clean, but that was mostly because she could use cool water in the shower. It felt good against the fever heat that broiled inside her. She pulled her heel up under her bottom to tilt more of her sweat-sticky skin off of the wooden chair. There was a magazine on the table. She picked it up and fanned herself with it.
She felt strange, like she wanted to snap and jab at Bucky, but there was knowledge in his eyes. He knew. He'd seen the worst that she could be and he'd held onto her through it. She knew he had because she woke up smelling him all over her. Another confusing thing was that Bucky wasn't dead to her anymore. He felt to her like his sexuality was sleepy or lazy, but it was there. Was it because of her? She knew she'd changed. Her face felt odd. Her body was finished healing. She didn't want to look in the mirror. It was possible that whatever had changed about her had merely changed her perception of him and that Bucky wasn't any different.
She shifted her eyes to him, then away. Shameful thoughts prowled around in her head. Bucky was very handsome. With the new way he felt to her it seemed possible that she maybe could – no. Estrella shook her head and looked away. Damn him, he knew! He knew what she was thinking. It was there in the steady, mildly predatory look in his eyes. It shivered her and made her mad at the same time.
"You're alright. We got through the worst of it. No harm done, toots," Bucky said.
His voice wasn't as low as Steve's, but there was a grittiness under the smooth that shivered her again.
"Thank you for helping me. Why wasn't I wearing underwear?" she asked.
Bucky smiled at her kindness and her crabbiness all in one breath.
"I told you I'd get you through it. No panties because they were rubbing you raw. You heal fast but you were busy a lot," Buck said diplomatically.
Estrella put her hands over her face and moaned.
"Not your fault. It was kinda sweet when you weren't trying to scratch my skin off," Buck teased her.
She peeked at him through her fingers as if checking for red marks on him. He healed faster than she did, so he was unblemished.
"Did we?" she dreaded asking but she had to know.
She knew better than to trust his blithe 'no harm done, toots.'
"You tell me. I know the answer to that, but I wanna hear what you think," Buck said.
"I don't want games! I need to know!" Estrella said.
She got up and brought her breakfast dishes to the kitchen. She ran the hot water, squirted the soap, then started working on the stack of dishes. She could feel Bucky standing in the doorway behind her. He wouldn't just be standing there. He'd be leaned against one side of the door frame with his sinfully thick thighs tight and his feet crossed. His arms, too, making his shoulders look even more impressive. She wanted to smack the lurid smirk off his face, except she knew she was irrationally irritable and he wasn't feeling as sexy as he was acting. It was a show from memory, like Steve said.
Steve. Her eyelids squeezed shut and she more felt than sounded a helpless whimper. She wanted, wanted, wanted. So bad. So good. She made a keening sound, then shrieked and jumped back when a soapy plate sipped from her hands. It almost smashed her toes but Bucky jerked her back so fast that her head bonked his nose.
"You're always getting hit in the nose," she mumbled.
Buck let go of her and she stooped to start cleaning up Wanda's broken plate.
"You should stop trying to do dishes and go get dressed. Put on some shoes," Buck told her.
"It's too hot for clothes! Did we fuck?" she demanded.
She stood there with broken, soapy crockery in her hands and the water still running.
"It's hot because you demanded food before I could get to the thermostat, and now you've got your hands in scalding dish water. Get to your room and put on a dress!" Bucky shouted at her.
He pointed out of the kitchen and toward her bedroom.
She almost opened her mouth, but then she didn't. Some dim memory warned her that after his words came action, and she wouldn't like how he handled her. She never did. Or, sometimes she did. It was all a mess in her head.
Estrella dropped the broken pieces in the trash, rubbed the soap bubbles off her hands with a dish rag, and shut off the running faucet. She refused to look at him while she went to her room to put on a dress.
There were more clothes in her small closet than she'd brought. The new-to-her things were a varied mix. Natasha. She'd been here. These were things from her closet. Stretchy things. Comfy things. Feminine things. Estrella burst into tears and found herself hugging the clothes hanging in her closet.
While she cried, she rolled her eyes at herself. She was being an overly-dramatic idiot and she knew it but she couldn't help it. It was hormones like Bucky had said days ago. How many days had it been? She didn't know. She had no idea what day it was. She found her phone on the floor under the edge of her bed. She got it and plugged it up to charge.
Estrella pulled a long, stretchy red dress down from its hanger. It was shapeless, except for the gathered, rutched band around the top where her breasts would be. There was a soft strap that went around behind her neck but she tucked it in her bosom. She didn't want the heat of the strap against her neck. Her breasts were medium-large and flagrantly prominent. There wasn't anything she could do about the state of her nips. She thanked Natasha in her head because at least that part of the dress was bumpy to partially camouflage them.
The loose, flowy dress clung to her in places when she moved but there was plenty of room to sit and tuck her legs up under her. She didn't want shoes. They were in the apartment, not going out anytime soon. Why should she need them?
She liked the deep, dark red of the dress. It looked good against her skin. She refused to look in the mirror though it was right in front of her. Maybe she would brave it later. By feel alone she took down her hair, added another elastic for strength, and put it up on the top of her head. She liked the sensual feel of her long ponytail brushing against her bare shoulders and back as she walked.
Bucky looked her over from where he was doing dishes at the kitchen sink. He did a double-take, then grinned at her.
"What?" she asked.
"Oh, nothin'," he said with faux-innocence.
She came to stand in the kitchen doorway, like he'd done behind her.
"Don't do that," he told her.
He rolled his shoulders and looked back at her.
From the look on his face, she could tell that he didn't like having people behind him. She moved around to hop up onto the countertop not far from the sink.
"Did we fuck?" he asked her.
She shook her head and wished her hair was down to hide behind.
"How do you know?" he asked.
"I feel empty," she whispered.
She fingered the black velvet choker and the opal voice moderator. Her finger slid back and forth between the velvet and her skin.
"You can feel that we didn't?" Buck asked.
"It's more than that, but I know, now that I paid attention to it," she said.
There was a knock at the door.
Estrella looked to Bucky with wide eyes.
"Whoever it is, Steve sent them. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to you as long as you do as I tell you," Buck said.
He dried his hands on the towel and left the kitchen to answer the door. Estrella slipped down off the countertop and crept behind him on bare feet. She stayed back in case she needed to get to her bedroom and shut herself inside. She tamped down hard on the part of her that was hopeful a useful male had come knocking.
Bucky looked at the security panel.
"You've got to be kidding me," he said, and looked at Estrella.
"What? Who is it?" she asked.
Bucky laughed.
He unlocked and opened the door.
…
Jesse didn't like feeling like a yokel but there was no other way to feel. Houston made his head hurt with all the traffic and the crawling-ant masses of people. New York City at seven in the morning was insanity. Maybe Mexico City or Tokyo or Mumbai were crazier, but he couldn't imagine it worse than this.
Last night, right after leaving Tony Starks' tower, Jarvis had directed him to stop in a phone accessory store. In a voice of frosty British disapproval the man in his phone who he wasn't entirely sure wasn't just some dude directed him to get a Bluetooth headset and a pre-charged power pack for his phone.
"I can't afford this shit," Jesse said.
"If the Captain says you can, then you can. Take your items to the cashier, Mister DiAlba Castillo. Your card will cover the expenses," Jarvis said.
"You make me sound like my grandfather. I'm Jesse," he insisted.
"Are you not Jesus?" Jarvis asked.
Jess was thankful he at least used the correct pronunciation. He hated it when people called him Geezus. It made his skin crawl, like the eyes of God were turned on him, watching him like a bug. He felt his mother's smothering hand in it. She was afraid of the family's blood in him from the moment he'd been born, so she'd saddled him with the name to shame him into being good. It worked about half the time he had the opportunity to choose.
"Jesse. Jesse. Come on, man. Say Jesse," he practically chanted.
This AI dude was stubborn. And bossy. Nobody paid any attention that he was talking to his phone in his hand like he was old school. He'd seen several people talking to themselves, no phones in sight. Their smell and erratic behavior had been un-phone like.
Jess swiped his card and it worked.
Bullshit. He knew he had less than a hundred dollars in his account.
"Tank you!" the East Indian store clerk told him sharply, then waved him out of the way so the next customer could get to the barred cashier window.
Jesse squeezed sideways and hustled out of the little store and onto the sidewalk.
"Mister DiAlba Castillo!" Jarvis fussed at him when he'd almost walked in front of a yellow cab.
Jesse laughed at the honking horns and the crush of people and got out of the way. Jarvis had him walking generally north for what felt like two hours. He thought the city traffic would thin so late at night, but it didn't much.
"Aren't there trains? Underground? Right there? Should I go down the stairs?" he asked.
"I would rather you not. Please proceed to the highlighted route," Jarvis instructed him stiffly.
"You're not a fuckin Garmin. You gotta be a dude. Where are you?" Jesse asked, more to feel not so alone in the urban wilderness than of actual curiosity.
"I reside in the tower with Mister Stark and the Captain, among others. And among other places," Jarvis insisted telling him again.
"How can you exist among other places? Wouldn't that be in other places?" Jesse wondered.
"I am in the habit of choosing my words carefully, Mister DiAlba Castillo."
"Now you're just tryin to piss me off," Jesse said.
"Be that as it may, please consider that it feels as if you are being deliberately difficult. The cross-walks and lights are plainly marked. Please desist attempting to give me coronary failure. The Captain has put you into my care and I intend to bring you to safe lodging despite your best efforts," Jarvis said.
"Coronary failure?"
"It is merely a figure of speech. I assure you, Mister DiAlba Castillo, I am not an organic life form," Jarvis said.
"Whatever, dude. You're supposed to be smart. Because you're a computer. Did you ever consider that I can figure out the fuckin lights and crosswalks just fine, but every time you use my full last name I want a lil bit of revenge?" Jesse asked.
"Yes, I had noticed the pattern, Mister DiAlbaCastillo."
"You are a dude. With sweaty balls. Steve is somewhere laughing at me, isn't he?"
"I'm flattered by your appreciation of my skills. The Captain is not currently laughing. Nor is he listening to us," Jarvis said.
That had been last night. Jesse woke up in the Bronx in the dinky little room Jarvis had led him to. It wasn't even a hotel. It was just a little dark place with a door that was locked, and then it wasn't locked. Jesse decided to go along with the weirdness of it all. He was close to his goal for making this trip.
"Stop at the cart for breakfast and coffee," Jarvis told him.
Jesse stood back to observe. Morning was worse than night. There were so many people he could hardly see things other than the buildings. He used his height to advantage to see how business was transacted at the cart. It didn't really matter what the food was.
"They only take cash," Jesse said.
"That is untrue. There is a card reader. Please purchase food and coffee if you wish for sustenance," Jarvis said.
"You sound down this morning," Jesse commented as he timed a gap in foot traffic and fit himself in to the line waiting for food.
"I have had better days," the AI said, sounding positively mopey.
"Am I bothering you that bad?" Jesse wondered.
"Not at all, Mister DiAlba Castillo. You are but a tiny prick of brightness among the troubles of my day," Jarvis told him kindly.
Jesse moved up to order at the cart. The guy gibbered something at him fast and impatiently.
"Coffee and whatever the last guy had," Jesse said.
He passed the man a twenty and looked around him for the moment it took to have his food dished up. A cute middle-aged lady caught his eye. She smiled at him for an instant, then pointed to the man trying to hand him his food. Jesse hurried to take the food and get out of the way. The cute lady was gone, lost in the crowd.
"Ahead, Mister Jesse. Your goal is the red brick building on your left," Jarvis said.
"You've got a conscience?" Jesse asked.
"I'm not certain. I am aware that my previous comment was inappropriate."
Jesse managed his burden and his double handfuls of sustenance through the throng of pedestrians. He looked up at the unremarkable apartment building.
"Don't I have to get buzzed in?" he asked.
"I will let you in. Now is a good time. Please go inside," Jarvis assured.
The inside of the apartment building was immediately quieter than the streets outside. He glanced politely to people he met in the halls but they all ignored him as if he was a ghost. People were coming and going to somewhere around the corner so he followed them to find the elevator.
"Fifth floor, please," Jarvis said aloud from his phone speaker.
Jesse's hands were too full to touch the button but someone else got it for him. Nobody would look at him except some of the girls and women and a random guy but people were helpful enough when prompted.
The fifth floor hallway outside the elevator was deserted except for an old man hunkered over a rickety table with a checker board. The bald, liver-spotted man watched him approach with an attentiveness the other New Yorkers seemed to lack. The hallway smelled like fresh paint and the wall was brighter and cleaner than the other walls.
"Lotta pretty boys at Wanda's place lately. Strange sounds. You tell her she can talk to me," the old man said.
"Yessir," Jesse agreed though he had no idea who Wanda was.
The old man looked surprised at his reply.
"Jarvis, do I knock?" Jesse said.
The old man reached out and gave a sharp rap to the door in front of him.
"Non-aggression is always the best policy, Mister DiAlba Castillo," Jarvis told him ominously.
He didn't have time to question the strange words because the door opened just then.
The guy who opened the door stared at him with a smirk. Jesse vaguely noticed Estrella standing in the apartment behind him. Jess felt like he was in a slow-motion horror dream where you want to run but you can't move fast enough. It didn't register in his mind that the guy was handsome or had brown hair, or was an inch or two shorter than him. What hit him was panic-inducing, mind-screeching terror. Jesse took a step back and wanted to turn and run from the smiling threat but a flicker of red drew his eyes to Estrella inside the apartment. He couldn't run. This man was a killer. No, a murderer. The deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands were on his soul and he was remorseless. A clear, happy curiosity was in his look, wondering if Jesse could be the next target. Estrella was trapped in there with him.
Jesse spared a flicker of thought for his mother then he moved. Forward, not away. He might be heavier than the guy, maybe could push past him to get to Estrella and then do what, he didn't know.
"Jesse?" Estrella asked, "Jesse! How did you..? Jess!"
Bucky had a long moment to react. The man was young, inexperienced and encumbered with gear, his hands full. Buck had seen the expression on his face many times before. The guy was sure he was going to die but he was going to go down trying. He was in a dumb, adrenaline-fueled rage, a cover for his terror. The visitor's attitude didn't make sense but there should be time to figure things out.
Buck moved out of the path of the charge. First, he took the coffee and set it on the table inside the door. He checked the man over quickly to make sure he didn't have any hidden weapons Jarvis wouldn't have detected then he kicked him over onto his right side on the floor. He was already moving forward so another push with his boot and the guy landed clear of the door. Bucky shut the door and secured the apartment.
He held a hand out when Estrella wanted to rush to the aid of the downed man. She ignored him and Buck had to grab her by the hair to stop her. He could have gone for the dress but he didn't want to uncover her. Things were strange enough already.
The guy was big but it didn't matter. He was unskilled, unarmed and unenhanced.
"Let go of her!" the man roared.
He tried to knock Buck's arm away from its grip in Estrella's hair. Buck straightened his arm, putting the girl further out of reach. His right boot precisely dug into the man's spine to let him know he needed to settle down.
"Doll, you wanna tell me what's goin on here?" he asked.
"Jesse," she said, her eyes wide and worried, "He's my cousin. Let him go. He doesn't understand you."
Buck released her hair, then pressed at her chest to keep her away.
"Go sit over there," he told her.
He pointed to the couch a few feet away.
"Don't hurt him," Estrella pleaded, but she went.
"Eya, get," Jesse waved a hand at her toward the door, as if Bucky couldn't see the gesture.
Estrella shook her head.
Bucky brought out a little black knife from somewhere and swiped it at Jesse's ear. A single drop of blood welled up. Buck touched it with a finger then put it to his tongue. He was satisfied that the guy was at least human. Far as he knew, nobody had yet figured out how to keep warm human blood in a cyborg but anything was possible. The more he watched the guy, the more he believed he was what he appeared to be despite his hostile actions.
Jesse felt like his spine was about to bend in half. He couldn't move his legs. The boot in his back felt like a car parked on him. All he could feel was pressure from that point down. The guy was doing something to his spine.
Go! He mouthed at Estrella.
She shook her head.
"A few words of explanation would be nice," Buck said.
He scraped the pads of his metal fingers hard against Jesse's face. Nothing came off. No ident veil.
"You stay there," he told the guy.
Buck took his boot off his back and went to perch his hip on the back of the couch near Estrella.
"What's this about? What kinda guest makes a rush when you open the door? Not the nice kind, from what I know," Bucky said.
The guy on the floor moved his legs experimentally and watched to see that the dangerous man didn't do anything to Estrella.
"You have to tell him, Jess. Why did you do that?" Estrella asked.
"You can't feel him? Don't you know what he is?" Jesse asked.
"I'm the guy Steve trusts to keep his girl safe, is what I am. What do ya feel, kid? Some family hoodoo, like with her eyes and her voice?" Buck asked.
"Bucky, cut out the gangster talk. It's not funny," Estrella made a face at his accent.
"You don't want me to start thinking in Russian," Buck warned her.
Jesse shifted around off of his arm and belly. His breakfast was smashed on the floor underneath him. The bulky case on his back clunked then slid onto the floor as he shrugged out of the strap.
Estrella's eyes teared up and she put her hand over her mouth to cover a grimace of emotion.
"Let me go to him," she said behind her fingers.
"Soon as he explains why he rushed the door," Buck eyed Jesse carefully, still looking for any hint that he wasn't what he appeared to be.
He rubbed his knife blade clean then tucked it away. Jesse stared at his left hand, so Buck splayed his fingers and rotated his wrist for him to see.
"I- you're. I felt it. You still feel-" Jesse was reluctant to insult the man now that things were calming down and his heart wasn't racing so hard. Maybe the danger wasn't immediate.
Estrella didn't seem afraid of the man. She'd obeyed him. The guy wasn't reacting to the sweet, fertile smell coming from her as a normal man should have. This guy should be taking orders from his cousin, not the other way around but that was clearly not the case.
"Spit it out, kid," Buck rolled a hand at him impatiently.
"You're evil. A murderer. Like a monster," Jesse said half-heartedly.
It sounded silly when he said it out loud, like something a hysterical child would say.
"Yeah, yeah. I get shit done. That's why Steve has me here protecting her. You rushed the door because you felt I'm evil and you wanted to get Estrella away from me?" Bucky said.
Jesse nodded.
"Fair enough. That took balls. You can't go rushing into things with your feelings all on fire. We're lucky I'm having a good day. Head's clear," Buck said.
He tapped silver fingers at his temple.
"You're heinous, and you're insane?" Jesse asked.
He pushed himself up from the floor and pulled at the front of his shirt. It was hot and sticky with residue from bacon, pancakes, and syrup. Estrella got up and went to him.
"Idiot! Shit for brains! I don't live with regular people. You should have called," Estrella told him, then she hugged him carefully aside from the mess and kissed his face several times.
"I'm learning that. I stood in the tower lobby last night for ten minutes and everybody ignored me. Then Steve called back and sent me across town with some asshole robot in my ear. He led me to a roach-hole where I spent the night. Now he tries to kill me. I hate New York," Jesse said.
Estrella smiled up at him and pressed at the edge of his ear.
"You came all this way to bring me your guitar," she said.
"I wasn't using it," Jesse agreed.
Estrella looked to the backpack he'd dropped. She bent to unzip it and dig in it. She pulled out a long sleeve black tee while Jesse tugged off the obscure logo sweatshirt on which he was wearing his breakfast. Bucky had seen a lot of bodies. The quick moment of exposure showed him one of the more perfect ones, a few degrees short of Steve's engineered perfection.
Bucky laughed a little. They were cousins who looked more like twins. Of course Jesse was nearly perfect. Jesse looked to him curiously, then his brows lowered a little.
"Yeah, I know that too. I'm broken. Useless," Buck said.
Jesse pushed his head and arms into the clean shirt and pulled it down. Estrella immediately hugged him properly without the pancake syrup getting in the way. His attention turned from the only slightly muted feelings of threat which emanated from the man.
"If I'da known a guitar would have caused all this trouble I could have shipped it to you. Steve's busy, you're busy. I thought you lived at the tower. Did you guys break up?" Jesse wondered.
"No," Estrella said.
Bucky watched them intently. The girl tucked her head down to her cousin's chest. Jesse smelled her hair, the side of her face, then her neck. His posture changed some, became a little more overtly masculine. His hands came up to rest on the girl's bare shoulders.
"I get it. It's what you were asking about when you called me. This doesn't happen to Ma or Val. Not Fran, either," Jesse said.
"Lucky me," Estrella said.
"We had to get her out of the tower. Too many strong, smart guys there," Buck explained.
Jesse startled a bit at the sound of Buck's voice as if he'd forgotten the other man was there. Buck watched him like a hawk considering a mouse. It would be easy to get the girl away from him. A whole lot easier than getting her away from Steve. Jesse got the message. He put a little more distance between them.
"Let me see you," Jesse put a finger out to tip up her chin.
Estrella looked to him with reluctance. She wouldn't meet his eyes. Buck imagined that if they both had the sticky eye thing it could make for some awkward moments.
"Your nose, chica! You're beautiful, but you have Great-grami's nose," Jesse teased.
Estrella's eyes rounded. She felt of her face and her nose.
"I do not!" she denied.
"You do. You look like them. Want me to get you a jade spike to wear through your nose right here?" Jesse laughed.
He touched her nose on the upper bony part where the bridge of a pair of gasses would rest. Estrella ran off to the bathroom. She squealed in outrage and stomped back into the living room.
"Why didn't you tell me? You've seen me all day. For days! When did this happen?" she pointed to her newly Mayan looking nose profile.
"You mostly look the same, doll. You're still gorgeous. You got a little exotic thing happening now. If you don't like it, they have doctors for that nowadays," Buck assured her.
"No, Eya. That's our people. Our heritage. You should be proud," Jesse insisted.
"What has our heritage done for me? They hunted me! I almost died, and I can't speak without a thing at my neck. I can't look at anybody. I have to hide away every three months. I don't want this!" she said.
"No point stomping and shouting about it," Bucky teased, "Hey, now you got an enhancement!"
Estrella stood there and looked brave until tears welled up in her eyes.
Jesse began to reach across, like he wanted to smack Bucky.
"Kid, just don't," Buck said.
"Then don't make her cry, douchebag,"
"What if Steve doesn't like me?" she wailed.
"Hormones, ya flakey broad. Tough up. Don't be so vain. Will ya look at the rest of ya? You're ninety-nine and a half percent perfect, and the other half percent, he'll probably love anyway because it's you. Steve's not like that. He'd love you if you were a burn victim."
Jesse looked to Bucky in disgust, then tempered his reaction. There was something going on here. Jesse didn't know women to take a harsh comment like that very well but Estrella sniffed and wiped her teary eyes. She nodded once at Bucky, then went to the kitchen.
"I'm an asshole. Tell me something I don't know," Buck said.
"What did you do to my back?" Jesse asked.
He twisted and flexed his spine, then rubbed at the tense area with a hand.
Buck smiled slightly but didn't say anything. He liked the kid but he wasn't giving away all his secrets on the first date.
"You started it. Clean it up. Don't make her do it," Buck said.
He sat down and turned on the television while Estrella made stuff in the kitchen. Jesse moved his things aside from the center of the floor and found the dustpan and some napkins to pick up his ruined breakfast.
Bucky kept an eye out while the cousins interacted. It didn't take her long to make more food for Jesse. They sat together so he could eat. He'd retrieved his coffee from where Bucky had put it. Buck gave him a hint of an informal salute when Jesse realized how easy it had been for Bucky to put him down. Saving the coffee had been an effortless gesture.
"Are you happy with them?" Jesse asked her quietly while he ate.
"I am, except I moved out to my friend Wanda's place," Estrella looked around.
"I want to be with Steve but he's inexperienced. I want him to live a little and prove to himself that he wants to come home to me, instead of all the other women he could have. I want time for music. Steve is a lot. He swallows me up like I'm a little rock in the sun's orbit. It seemed like a good idea to have some time apart but I miss him. I don't like this," Estrella admitted.
"You're not staying close to him. He was all the way in California. How do you know you'll be safe without him when you look like this?" Jesse asked.
He eyed her body, what he could see of it, above the tabletop and confined in her dress. There was a touch of male speculation there but Jesse wasn't like that. It was the same as her seeing and feeling the male essence in him. Jesse was impressive but he was family. They used to sing cartoon songs together and fight over the spongy ball in the kiddie pool. As appealing as they were, the feeling of family and familiarity was stronger.
"Don't think bad of Bucky. He's giving up a lot of his time and his freedom to help me and-"
A wad of paper smacked Estrella in the side of the head.
"I'm sitting right here. Don't say it like I'm your reclusive maiden aunt," Buck complained.
"Thank you, Bucky, for giving up so much of your time so me and Steve can be together and Steve can still do his work," Estrella twisted in her chair to speak directly to him.
Bucky gave her a faux evil-eye and wadded up another piece of paper. He tossed it up and caught it repeatedly, ready to smack her one again.
"You really can't feel him?" Jesse whispered.
"He can hear you, Jess. Their ears," Estrella rolled her eyes.
Bucky turned up the volume on the television. It was some morning talk show she was certain he had no interest in.
"I'm not joking. You shouldn't trust him. He's not a used-to-be killer or somebody who's turned over a new leaf and repented. He feels like he's actively looking for reasons not to kill people. He'll do it again, maybe soon," Jesse leaned close and whispered.
"I know, Jess. I don't feel it like you do. You're stronger than me in that. He kills to keep me safe. To keep Steve safe. You're right, he probably has to find a reason not to sometimes, on bad days," she reasoned.
Bucky threw another piece of paper at her. She tried to bat it away but his trajectory was too fast and direct. The paper bounced off and landed on the floor.
"He has you bullied," Jesse said.
"If I'm going to be with Steve I can't be soft. You felt what Bucky can do. The people Steve fights can do things like that too. I trust Bucky. He's on our side," she said.
"Does Steve trust Bucky?" Jesse asked.
"That's a dumb question. Would I be here if he didn't? Besides, Steve beats my ass six times outta ten in the training room. He didn't used to. Natalia teaches him the witchy stuff against me and our babydoll here is making a man outta him," Buck said over the television.
"Don't say that. He was always a man," Estrella said.
"Preachin'," Bucky said.
"What?" Estrella asked.
Bucky made a long-suffering face and muted the television.
"Didn't you come here for a reason?" Buck asked their visitor.
Estrella looked at Jesse's empty plate then she bounced out of her chair to come around and hurry him out of his. Jesse smiled at her enthusiasm.
He got his guitar case from the floor and set it on the coffee table. Buck watched while Jesse opened the case and took out the guitar. He got up and took the instrument before Estrella could get her hands on it. Buck walked off with it to her room. He gave the two of them a warning glance like he was the chaperone of wayward teenagers then he disappeared with the guitar.
"What's he doing?" Jesse asked.
Estrella shrugged. Buck didn't take long before he came back with the inspected guitar.
"Do I want to ask what you did or why you did it?" she wondered as he handed the instrument to Jesse.
"Nah," Buck said.
"Did you put a tracker in it?" she asked
"No," he said.
Bucky sat to mostly ignore the television again. Jesse handed her the guitar. He pushed at her shoulder until she scooted to the front edge of the couch, then he moved to get behind her. Buck's eyes shifted to them, then away again. Estrella was thrilled at the feel of the light, resonant wood of the instrument in her hands. Jesse showed her how to hold it and where to put her hands. He showed her the electric tuner and how to tune it by ear. He showed her a few strums and pick patterns. She wiggled happily when she made the first sounds which were in tune and pretty.
A piece of paper smacked not into her, but into Jesse's forehead. Her cousin went stiff behind her. She felt him slump into compliance when Estrella imagined Bucky was giving him that look. Jesse didn't hover so close as he had been.
"I'm sorry the timing is so bad. Are you okay?" she asked Jesse.
"I'm alright. You smell like home, like ma. It's not like he's thinking," Jesse said.
His hands moved hers to a different set of chords on the guitar and he told her what he knew about it, which songs played in that key. Estrella was delighted with his gift.
"Thank you, Jesse. Life has been so good to me lately, I don't know what to think of it. Things were really bad. Other than missing Steve and wishing I was closer to family, I'm happy. You should take a picture for Rita so she can see I'm healthy again," she said.
"You didn't look like this, even when you were a kid," Jesse looked to her nose and briefly to the rest of her, "What's the difference?"
"Good friends. They took care of me and made sure I ate. They're all so good to me, I don't think I deserve it. It makes me think something bad has to happen," she blubbered up into tears again.
Bucky grumbled something they couldn't understand.
Estrella heard a noise from her bedroom. Her phone. Jesse made room for her to get up and retrieve it. He held the guitar out of the way so it wouldn't get dinged in her hurry.
"Steve!" she said happily.
Jesse watched in confusion as Estrella seemed to fold down and curl around herself in the doorway of the bedroom with her phone clutched to her ear. Bucky was suddenly there. He scooped her up, phone and all, and carried her to the big chair he watched television from. Bucky turned off the television and let her listen to Steve's words in the quiet. When she put her hand over her face, Buck pulled the elastic out of her hair and encouraged it to spread over her face so she could hide.
It was a strange thing to watch. Jesse finally got it. James Buchannan Barnes, as he only now understood who the guy was, wasn't in this for any kind of attraction to or control over Estrella. He was in it for Steve. He took care of her and knew a lot about her, and it truly wasn't sexual, despite how it looked to see a guy like him wrapped around a girl like his cousin. Steve was the common denominator.
Bucky picked up the remote control and turned the television back on. He scrolled through channels as if he knew what he was looking for. The local channel Bucky chose showed a microphone and a plain glass podium in a sunny park somewhere in the city. Jesse could see tall buildings above the autumn-drab trees in the background. There was no one at the podium at the moment but Steve's name and some other stuff was in big text at the bottom of the screen. There were a few people standing back in the mid-ground behind the podium. It looked like an old priest, the hot red-headed woman from the Avengers, and Thor. Yeah. Black Widow, Jesse recalled her name. Or her call sign, or whatever it was. The three of them, even Thor, were dressed in solemn dark suits, the only spot of brightness being the priest's little square of white at his throat.
There was a group of people, anonymous heads in the foreground at the bottom of the screen, probably reporters. As they watched Steve walked into the frame from the left. He first handed a small object to Black Widow then turned to approach the podium. Estrella fumbled with her phone to turn it off.
"That's right, Stevie. Shoulders back, chin up. You're gonna nail this," Buck said.
"What's happening?" Jesse asked.
"Shhh, I'll explain in a minute," Estrella whispered.
She had tears in her eyes, but that seemed par for today. She sat up straighter in Bucky's lap, then she got up to stand. So did Bucky. Jesse didn't know why, but he did too.
Steve looked like a strong, dignified young man standing there in his sharp brown suit. Bucky knew it was carefully planned to not show him in Captain America colors. The text banner at the bottom of the page still showed only his first and last name, not his title. Cameras went off in the press pool but the flashes couldn't be seen in the bright light of day.
"Good morning," Steve began low and firm, "I apologize for the spectacle. I'm sorry to take everyone's time with this personal matter. We all have more productive things to do so I'll be brief. Some weeks ago I had a lapse of judgement. I did things I shouldn't have done and I bear the burden of consequence. There is a woman who now claims to be pregnant with my child,"
After taking a breath to continue, Steve had to pause because the press pool and gathered bystanders clamored with questions. His posture was tall and square, his feet firmly planted. His hands rested on the podium and he watched the crowd with patience until they got the idea that they'd get more information if they let him continue uninterrupted.
"Yes," Bucky hissed approval at the way Steve handled the crowd.
"She is not pregnant with my child. I have two pregnancy tests with full medical release showing that she is not pregnant with my child. If this woman is pregnant, I reiterate that the child she carries is not mine,"
Again the questions jumbled over each other, a litany of people wanting to know the name of the woman, the date he was with her and other salacious details. Steve's jaw moved forward just a little and his head tilted in a mannerism that made Bucky smile. The crowd quieted more quickly this time.
"If I was the father of the woman's child I would support her and the child. Because I am not the father, I will not pay the cash support she demands of me.
"What most troubles me is that I have defiled the good standing of a cultural icon which was held in esteem by many. My personal failing is a source of disappointment to my associates, my team, and anyone who looked up to Captain America. I have insulted the lessons my parents taught me and I have insulted my God.
"'I'm sorry' are two small, weak words. They don't serve to adequately address the damage I've done to the reputation of a national icon but in this case words are all I have to give. It's my hope people will see that while I have come to define the identity of Captain America, he isn't all that defines me as a person. I do my best behind the shield every time I pick it up but I've got to set it down sometimes. Like everyone, I, Steve Rogers, make mistakes. It's my hope that you'll forgive me. Even if you don't, I will continue to do my job when I'm called. Thank you for your time."
Steve squared himself to parade rest then he turned and walked away as he had come. The priest, the Black Widow, and Thor went with him as he left the scene. In the noisy speculation that followed, a blonde journalist took to the podium. The chaos quieted by half so people could hear what she had to say.
"Steve Rogers will be a guest on the Clarence Wallis show tomorrow to answer your questions. He asks the public and the press to submit your questions for review to the Clarence Wallis show at C Wallis," the woman told everyone.
Questions flew at her but the journalist walked away. Media staff entered the set to clear away the podium. The television switched to an indoor news desk view. Buck recognized what was about to happen. The news personalities were going to hyper analyze everything Steve had said and try to imply and speculate on things he hadn't said.
"Turn it off," Jesse said as Buck was already aiming the remote for the television.
"I knew," Estrella said to Jesse, "We weren't dating yet. I was his friend."
"The bitch wants money so this is what he did," Jesse stated.
Bucky laughed.
"Steve is probably the only one who hasn't called her a bitch. He made a big effort to separate himself from the Captain just now, but anybody who knows him can see that's what he was to get through it and to minimize the damage. Steve would have been more stupid and said things he didn't need to say," Buck said.
Estrella nodded. She was proud of Steve. He'd told her what was about to happen at the very last minute so that he handed his phone off to Nat seconds before his statement began. That was enough. They'd known this was coming. Estrella picked up her phone.
She texted Steve.
You did so good. I'm proud of you. She's going to be angry.
Thank you, he responded.
Jesse taught her some more on the guitar but the visit wasn't the same. Estrella looked sad. Jesse and Buck could tell she was tired. She thanked Jesse for his guitar and hugged him. Jesse said he'd see her again before he left for home. Bucky shook his hand at the door. Jesse could barely stand to touch the man but Estrella clung to him fearlessly. Jesse left and allowed Jarvis to direct him to a slightly less horrible roach hole for the night.
…
Steve eventually took the phone away from his ear. The shrill rant was ongoing. He set his phone down on the small glossy table in the middle of the limousine. Dana's voice went on and on with expletives, few proper words in between.
Father Miller reached his hand out to end the call.
Natasha stopped him.
"We need to record what she says for legal purposes," Nat told the old man.
Thor silently offered a cut crystal glass to Steve. He took it but didn't drink from it.
"She is needlessly incriminating herself. She is wrong, but human. Mercy dictates that we don't allow her to further damage herself," Father Miller said.
Thor nodded and touched the phone, ending the call.
They let Father Miller out at the church. Steve got out of the limo to walk with the priest up the steps of the rectory. Steve thought as the man wiggled his keys into the lock that the rectory ought to have better security. He shook his head. His thoughts were scattered. In his mind, key phrases from his statement to the press kept playing in his head. Especially the parts about letting people down.
"Steven, stop that. You know better. Evil wants to keep you down. The darkness wants to keep hold of you but you're a child of light. Come out of there. You've been absolved of your sins. You did right by the woman, safeguarding her person and her identity to the best of your ability. Be of good spirits and firm resolve," Father Miller put his hand atop his head and gave him a quiet blessing.
"Thank you, Father," Steve said.
"You're welcome. Go enjoy your evening with your friends. I'll be watching Clarence Wallis tomorrow to see what they try to throw at you," Father Miller smiled at him.
Steve smiled a little, then jogged back to the limo.
Natasha and Thor were arguing in good sport.
"You are vindictive," Thor accused her.
"Of course I am. I'm a woman," Nat admitted.
Steve got in, flopped down on his seat, and loosened his tie. He toed off his shoes, laid his suit jacket across the seat next to him and reached for the glass Thor had handed him.
He tossed its contents to the back of his throat and swallowed. His eyes went wide.
"That was no Midgardian swill," Thor cautioned him a little too late.
Steve took a moment to make sure he had control of his throat so he wouldn't cough like a lightweight. When the burn stopped, he took a breath and wiped the sear of water from his eyes.
Thor looked to him with a troubled brow.
"I thought you were aware what I gave you," he said.
Steve shook his head briefly and got a bottle of water from the limo mini-fridge.
"It's alright. I wasn't paying attention," Steve said.
"Does it matter? Unless we get a call to assemble there's no reason you shouldn't relax," Nat reasoned.
"It's alright," Steve said again after he downed the contents of the plastic bottle, "I'm going for a run when we get home. I'll work it off. I'll be fine."
Natasha raised her eyebrow ever so slightly in a look that questioned the wisdom of him going for a run in public immediately after making the media announcement he'd just made.
"If it is exertion you seek, I would work with you," Thor offered.
"Thanks, pal. I may want that later, but I need to think. I can't think about anything when I'm tangled up with you. You're too much of a challenge. Running and thinking, I can handle," Steve said with a smile.
His teammates left him alone to think for the rest of the ride back to the tower. Steve half listened to their arguing but his mind was on other things. An idea came to him. He opened a new contact in his phone list and entered Jarvis' name.
As soon as he touched enter, a new message arrived on his phone.
How may I help you, Captain?
Is there anything in need of my attention?
There is nothing which cannot wait until tomorrow. Haven't you accomplished quite enough today? It would not be inappropriate for you to see to your own needs. Is there any way I may assist you?
I'll tell you later, Steve replied.
Jarvis didn't respond. Steve knew the AI would wait patiently.
"Thank you, both. I'll try not to make a public spectacle of myself anymore," Steve said to Nat and Thor in the elevator on the way up to their suites.
"Our job is public spectacle," Natasha pointed out.
"So I'll try to not be that kind of public spectacle," Steve clarified.
He was glad to see a smirk on Nat's face. She thought nothing of standing behind him while he publicly smeared her team captain.
Thor rested a hand on his shoulder until the elevator stopped to let Steve and Nat out on either side. Steve almost leaned into the show of support. He surprised Thor with a quick, bracing hug then he went to his suite.
Hey, I'm coming home. I need you to clear out so I can shower, Buck texted.
I'm going for a run. Give me five to change and clear out. She's stable?
She's good. Rational today, getting better every minute. She's coming out of it faster than she went in, Buck told him.
Thank you. I'm not taking my phone when I run. If you wanna get in touch with me I'll have my comm in, Steve said.
He set his phone on his bathroom countertop and hurried out of his suit and into workout gear. Long sport pants and a hoodie were good enough. He hoped to get by unrecognized because of the deep hood. If people knew him, he didn't plan to slow down and chat. He pressed a tiny comm unit into his ear and had Jarvis take him down to street level. The sooner he left, the better. He didn't want to cross paths with Bucky and smell Estrella on him. Nothing but embarrassment could come of that. He'd had enough of embarrassment for one day.
….
Estrella was thankful for what Bucky had done for her but she was glad to see him go. She was a little weary of his constant presence. She couldn't feel exactly what Jesse felt around him but Bucky's quiet intensity felt heavy sometimes. After he left and secured the door behind him the space around her felt light and free, blessedly peaceful rather than brooding.
She was tired of being stuck in the apartment. It was cool outside. She could tell by pressing her hand to the glass of the window. She wanted to go outside. The day was bright and inviting but she couldn't go out yet.
It was difficult to choose between her laptop and her guitar. She turned the box fan toward her bed and sat with the guitar. The mellow sounds made her smile as she aimlessly strummed the strings. If she was going to play anything, she needed sheet music and practice.
Ignoring the heat which made her sweat was easier to do while she opened her laptop in front of her on the bed and searched for simple sheet music. Her hair had slipped loose a little at the side of her face. She didn't want to take her hands off the strings to fix it. It was delightful to look at the music she found online and to try matching the tones from her fingers to what she saw on the page. She found familiar songs she wanted to sing but her fingers on the strings were too clumsy and slow to sing along with.
Over and over again, she played the same notes, working her fingers to stretch into what felt like awkward, contorted positions. She even loved the way the guitar smelled. It was like Tia Rita's house, with maybe an overtone of Jesse's room.
She almost didn't hear the knock. When it came a second time her fingers stilled on the strings and her eyes cut to the security panel by her bedroom door. The little light flashed red three times fast. Her heart tripped into a fast pace too.
What should she do? The reasonable part of her mind told her she could simply ignore the knock at the apartment door. What if she was playing too loud and a neighbor had come to complain? What if it was someone dangerous? She dreaded to think of La Eme or of the people Steve feared might find her.
Fear paralyzed her into stillness and nonreaction. What if there wasn't time for her to sit here doing nothing and she had to go look and see who it was right now and call Bucky for help? Or what if there was no time for even that and she should go out the window?
Estrella breathed out the panic. She slowly, silently set the guitar down. Just as quietly, she eased off her bed and through her open bedroom door. She padded across the living room on soft feet and dared herself to look at the image on the security panel.
It was only one man, not a brute squad like Steve feared. No short, stout Mayans, either. It was…
"Steeeeeeve!" she squealed in delight.
She hopped in place and swished her hands in excitement. Another glance at the panel showed him strong and tall, smiling inside his hoodie. He could hear her making noise. When she fumbled at the door to open it, Jarvis wouldn't let her.
"Miss, I regret to deny you the Captain's company but do you think it wise to open the door?" he asked.
She could hear the caution and disapproval in his voice. Why wasn't she surprised that he was in Wanda's apartment? She hadn't thought he was, but that didn't matter right now as long as she could convince him to open the door.
"I want to see him. Open the door," she insisted.
Looking at the panel, she could see that Steve was also talking to Jarvis. She loved watching his mouth move. His eyes were obscured by the angle of the security camera and the depth of the hood over his forehead. It was easy to see that he was having a stern talk with Jarvis.
"Miss, if you would, please retreat to your bedroom and stay inside the doorway. The Captain believes he may visit with you as long as the airflow in the apartment takes your scent away from him. I must say I disapprove of this, as it was not in your original plans for your confinement. I fear seeing the Captain may be an error in judgement at this time," Jarvis continued to delay her.
"Let him in," she told the AI.
She complied with what he wanted because it was Steve's plan and maybe the door wouldn't open if she didn't move to her room. She sat on the smooth wood floor just inside her bedroom door and waited.
She was excited, but anxious. Steve hadn't seen her like this, all round and poofy. He hadn't seen her nose. Would the vent fan in her room take enough air outside to keep Steve from smelling her? Part of her didn't care what happened as long as she got to see him.
"What's taking so long?" she asked as she looked across the living room and waited for the sound of the bolts sliding in the heavy door.
"I must cycle the air from the living room into your bedroom. I will be able to open the door in twenty-two seconds," Jarvis answered her impatience.
Estrella fidgeted with her hair and tugged at her dress. She refused to tuck her feet under the hem. She thought she had cute feet. Steve had never seemed to mind seeing them. Her fingers felt of her choker necklace to reassure herself. Sly thoughts urged her to take the necklace off and use her voice to get what she wanted. Instead, she pressed the opal to her throat and waited.
Her heart leapt again and she gasped when she heard the door mechanisms unlocking. She bit her lip and tried to control her breathing when the door swung open. There he was. She squealed again and wiggled as Steve stepped inside and locked the door. He was smiling but he refused to look at her before he was certain the door was secure. He took an instant to put his hood back on his shoulders and glance around the apartment.
Then he looked to her as he walked toward her. Estrella moaned softly at the longed-for sight of him, so strong and male in his sweaty jogging clothes. He looked much like when she'd first met him, but better, as she was better now. Steve stopped grinning and walking when she made the needy, appreciative sound. He looked to her face and then away, almost too late to avoid getting caught in her eyes.
She was powerless to stop looking at him. She wanted them to get stuck. Her insides clenched with desperate wanting. He was perfect, just what she needed. The running pants weren't snug but her greedy eyes sought the shape of his genitals under the polyester fabric.
Her muscles tensed to get up and go to him. She had to feel him! To hold him. She wanted to smell him and kiss him and take him in any way she could.
"Sweetheart, you gotta stay right there or I have to leave. Buck said your mind is clear today. Can you understand me?" he asked.
She nodded but her eyes rolled under closed lids. His voice directly in the air with her instead of over the phone was almost like a touch to her skin. In her eagerness to see him she forgot to worry about what he would think of seeing her.
"I'm gonna sit right here and that'll be close enough," Steve said.
She opened her eyes to watch him cross his feet and bend his knees to sit on the floor across from her behind the couch. He wasn't far away. If they both leaned forward they could touch. She swayed toward him, but he lifted a hand to indicate to her that she should stay where she was.
"God, you're gorgeous. Do you feel alright?" Steve almost whispered.
His gentle tone seemed reverent.
Estrella met his eyes and was too shy of the intensity there. She looked away.
Steve hissed a quiet sound and she had to look at him again for just an instant.
He'd shut his eyes, deeply affected by the magnetism between them.
"I feel good. Except for the emptiness. You make it hurt," she said.
She rubbed at the intensified ache in her lower belly.
"Eya. You're killin me. Jesse brought you his guitar?" Steve said, floundering to find something coherent to say.
Estrella only nodded.
Steve fought the urges of being near her. It was like right before she'd left for Wanda's place nine days ago, but worse. He'd thought she looked like a knockout before, but she was bordering on fantasy now.
He tried hard to see his girl, his friend. That's who he'd come to see. She was there but the haze of the last bit of her fertility cycle made it very difficult to just see her as a dear person he loved and wanted to spend time with. To talk to. To enjoy the comfort of her presence and her ability to help him not think of his concerns for a while.
Since there was no helping it, he let himself look. She stared at him hungrily so he tried to avoid her eyes. Estrella was far from chubby. Her figure was lush and rounded, with fine bone structure showing everywhere she wasn't soft. It was hard to tell from the dress she wore, but the curve of her hip and the space under her breasts hinted at a trim belly. Her exposed arms and shoulders seemed to beg for the touch of his hands, his lips. Even her toes appeared to be in need of kisses.
Heated imaginings flashed through his mind, spurring an urgency to action. He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Every gracefully turned curve of her, every sinuous contour was calling to his hands. His skin. Steve balled his fists and set them on his knees to keep from reaching for her.
He had to look at something other than her breasts under the red elastic gathers of her top. She made his mouth water even with her scent being sucked away from him toward the outside. In a sort of desperation he looked to her face instead.
"Your nose…" Steve breathed.
Estrella frowned with her eyes shut. Her palms rubbed restlessly at her thighs through the thin fabric of her dress. She wanted to lie back on the floor, stretch out for him and writhe under his gaze.
Her lips parted when she felt the warmth and touch of his finger on her forehead, then lightly down her nose from top to tip. It startled her enough that she looked at him in surprise.
"I want to kiss your nose. Nibble on you right there," Steve said.
He rubbed the upper half of her nose with his thumb. Estrella moved fast to capture his hand to press her cheek into. She needed him to touch her more! With soft, insistent grasping she pulled at him, tried to draw him over her on the floor.
A feeling of heated languor overcame him. He wanted to cover her, to give her what she wanted. Her beauty alone was nearly irresistible. If he wasn't holding his breath he was sure he'd not be strong enough to resist her. Estrella was soft and warm. All he wanted to do was hold her, sink into her. She was clingy with her hands and pleading with her eyes. Steve pressed their lips together then rubbed his cheek against hers affectionately. He carefully pulled away.
Estrella pouted at him when he moved away to sit across from her. He studiously busied himself with taking off his running shoes and socks. She smiled and straightened her legs when she understood.
Steve's feet looked ridiculously large and pale but they were his so she loved them. He stretched them toward her and they met in the middle. She pressed her soles to his and sighed. Steve released a long-held breath and smiled at her, seeming to feel the same comfort at their touch as she did.
Knowing that he'd been holding his breath so he could come close and touch her gave her mixed feelings. She was impressed he could do that for long enough to matter, but also mildly annoyed he didn't want to be influenced by her scent. It was an unworthy thought because she knew it was better for him to resist.
Steve was so big and vibrant that she once again felt small next to him. It wasn't a bad feeling. She wanted to say something to ease his feelings about the awful press announcement he'd had to make. The soft, open expression on his face kept her from mentioning it. He wasn't here to talk about his problems.
She wanted to ask him about being out west and the filming and about the dates he'd gone on but it didn't seem time for that, either. This felt like time just for them, not for all the other things. It felt good that he'd come to her, somehow working around Bucky and Natasha and Jarvis to get into the apartment.
"I heard you with the guitar. You're good, like you're already getting it. I recognized the beginning of Hotel California. Is that what you were starting to play?" Steve asked.
"I was trying to find the notes. I need lessons," she said.
"Do that, or I bet you could learn just from stuff on the internet. You're already great at reading music and you've got an ear for tones. You'll learn fast," Steve smiled like he was proud of her.
Estrella wiggled happily at his vote of confidence. Steve's eyes flashed down to how her body moved and his face pinked with color. He looked away, to their feet. His fingers twitched in his lap. She noted that he was hard. It wasn't surprising.
She bit her lip and tried to suppress a moan, then was embarrassed when Steve shifted uncomfortably. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned aside against the doorframe. She desperately wanted to lie down, to have him lie with her.
Her eyes smoldered at him, demanding that he do something to ease her terrible need.
"Eya, baby… I can't. We can't. What I just had to do, and all that I have to do soon, I can't get you like that and leave you. I won't. Not if we're not together," he reasoned gently.
"Please. It hurts to be empty," she frowned at him.
Her hand pressed into her belly and her hips tilted to get at least some pressure where she needed it.
Steve looked at the pinch between her brows. It looked like what he felt. The urgency to be with her was heavy and painful. He'd already thought about it. A lot. Estrella gasped softly when he got up to go to the bathroom in the hallway.
It took him several minutes to pee, but he got it done. It wasn't easy to force it past the constriction of congested tissues. He was taking a chance but it was a small chance.
Estrella was standing in her doorway when he came out. She saw the intent in his eyes and welcomed him when he reached for her. Steve lifted her by the hips and pressed her to her bedroom wall inside her door, beside the security panel.
They were anxious and determined like people who expected to be interrupted. Estrella somehow got her dress out of the way and freed him from his pants and briefs. The primal excitement of knowing what he was about to do made his movements a little too abrupt. She guided him and then he was inside.
Steve pressed his forehead to the wall and tried not to breathe. The heat of her, her soft grip was more than his fantasies had accounted for. He hissed out a breath and drew another sharp one in. Her scent intoxicated his mind. Along with the blissful feeling from his dick, he was almost too lost to note her sharp yip of discomfort.
Estrella squirmed on him, overwhelmed at the feeling of finally being full, but split with pain too. Steve was harsh and strong around her and inside her. She reveled in it though she was afraid of him moving.
They made tortured sounds at each other. Steve locked his body still. Estrella didn't dare complain about the too-firm hold of his hands on her hips. Instead she ravenously focused on the feeling of fullness he sated her with. She wanted to move. Her hips tried to rock on him. The grip of his hands on her tightened and he leaned his weight into her.
Nonsensical sounds came from her mouth. He understood her well enough because he grumbled back at her with tones of affection and warning. His mind was reeling, desperate to move and imprint himself inside her. His hips jerked a bit in a moment of weakness, then he throbbed strongly under the influence slick friction.
Estrella cried out in pain or pleasure, maybe both. Steve got himself under control and shuffled his feet in a satisfying way. He nudged deeper until their bones pressed together. He had to go soon. Pressure and desperation were rising in him, possibly pushing life-giving juices toward her. The thought of it, of releasing into her was too much.
Steve pulled her off of him and turned toward her bed. In a hurry, he set her on it. She lay back and reached for him. He couldn't look at her. Instead, he pressed her down with one hand and smoothed her hair back with the other.
His exposed erection felt wet and sadly cold from the loss of her. Her internal heat was incredible. He missed it already. He kissed her quick, then pulled away. Estrella made a savage sound at him and tried to lunge at his retreat. He held out a hand and glared at her. Before she got much of a look at him, he snapped his shorts and pants up to cover himself.
Estrella was angry with pain and loss. She wanted more. She felt crazed with it. Steve's eyes burned at her, warning her to stay away. She'd seen that look of determination on him. His arm, his hand, his body looked tense. He wouldn't let her close, would likely shove her to the floor and away if she went for him. She hissed her frustration at him while he backed up to stand in the doorway.
Steve stopped at her bedroom door and held his breath until the air around him was likely clear of her scent. Jarvis had said thirty-five seconds was needed to move enough air so he wouldn't be surrounded by her when he breathed. He held his breath for a count of forty.
He knew he was visibly trembling but that was alright. She was affected too, writhing and rubbing on her bed. It felt like sweet, bold intimacy to let each other be seen this way. It was something just for them.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice deep with want.
"More," she said, instead of answering him.
"Later," he argued.
She lay on her side but couldn't quit squirming. He couldn't look directly at her or he would have even more trouble leaving.
"Sweetheart, you better put away your guitar and laptop before you kick em to the floor. I'm gonna go now. I missed you a lot. I wanna see you again soon," Steve said.
He pressed the heel of his hand at the base of his erection. It was probably a useless gesture. It wasn't going down anytime soon.
Estrella nodded at him. There was a hint of sweetness in the squint of her eyes and the set of her lips. He smiled at her and blew her another kiss. He was quick to shut the door to give her some privacy. He tugged up his hood, stooped to grab his shoes and socks, then hurried out of the apartment to put them on.
After the door was secure he sat in the hallway and rushed his socks and shoes on to his feet. There was an old man with a checker board there. Steve barely nodded at him before he was away.
…..
Bucky looked up from the newspaper he was reading when Steve stormed into the suite. He hadn't seen his friend in a while. Steve looked like he was in no mood to stop and chat.
"Hiya, Buck," was all he said on his way to his room.
His door slammed and locked. The shower started less than a minute later. The air currents in the living room swirled with his passing and Bucky caught a very familiar scent. He grunted at the meaning of it. He wasn't surprised.
Steve should have been ravenously hungry after his shower but he didn't come out of his room. Buck heard his nightstand drawer snap shut, then one of Steve's familiar groans.
Buck sighed and shook his head.
"No time like the present," he murmured to himself.
He folded the newspaper and laid it on the new table. Then he got up and went to Steve's door. It was a simple lock. It yielded in no time.
"Buck, what the hell? Get out!" Steve griped at him.
Bucky calmly shut the door. He walked around the bed to sit in the chair in the corner. Steve must be really out of it because he hadn't engaged the privacy tint nor pulled the curtains.
"J," Buck said.
He waved a hand at the window wall. Jarvis darkened the tint so that it looked like night time outside.
Yeah. Stevie was outta his mind with it. He remained sitting on his heels near the head of the huge bed, more angry than bashful. The view wasn't surprising. He had a thick towel spread before him, he was naked as the day he was born, and his dick was buried deep in the rubber toy he liked.
Buck wondered that he hadn't worn the thing out yet. Steve had one hand fisted on his left thigh, the other around the toy. He was tense like he wanted to strangle something, probably his best pal.
"What?" Steve demanded.
"You went around for a little visit and got just wet enough to frustrate the hell outta ya," Buck said.
"What's it to you? She's my girl. She was willing," Steve said.
"I bet. Did you hurt her?" Bucky didn't stop with the questions.
Steve sat back more on his heels, obviously disgusted that he wanted to talk at this moment.
"No," he denied, then he stopped and thought.
Estrella hadn't confirmed that she wasn't hurt. She'd merely asked for more. She'd yipped in pain when he'd first got inside, but her movements and sounds had been eager after that. Bucky saw the doubt on his face. He pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and texted a quick message.
Did he hurt you? He's worried about it.
No. Tell him I'm good. Go away, the girl replied after a long moment.
Bucky smiled and put his phone away. She hadn't really answered, but he figured she was alright. She sounded busy. Just like Steve was busy.
"She said she's good," Bucky said absently.
He relaxed back into the upholstered chair and steepled his fingers in front of his lips. He studied Steve's body, thinking.
"What do you want, Buck?" Steve asked with thin patience.
"She can't handle you. You're gonna hurt her. She's sweet on ya so she won't say anything. She's delicate down there and you're gonna bruise her all up with the way you go at it," Bucky said.
"That's our business to work out. Go on, Buck. Go fly a kite," Steve griped at him.
"Shaddup and listen. You're all bothered right now so you're not thinking. I mean it, Stevie. You go at it with that thing like somebody's gonna take it away from ya. Do you think you can train yourself like that, then strip the gears into making nice with a lady? It won't work. You gotta learn something different," Buck insisted.
Steve looked at him suspiciously. This was a weird situation. He wanted to throw Buck out of his room and get on with it. His balls hurt like they were in a vice. He had to do something and Buck was being an ass and slowing him down. He wasn't sure his pal wasn't messing with him. He'd pulled some pretty convoluted pranks back in the day.
"You think I'm bullshitting you. Alright. I wasn't supposed to tell you this, but you're being a dumbass so you need to hear it. She wants it bad. She won't pay much attention to the pain. You're an idiot, so you won't either. She rubbed herself raw, Steve. That's one of the reasons I had to get a sedative for her. She was mad with it and wouldn't stop trying to fix it until she was almost bleeding. You'll go forever too, then how would that leave her? How would you feel after your head cleared, seeing that you'd made her bleed, that she was sore for days?" Bucky asked him.
Steve frowned. He looked away from Bucky, down to this traitorous dick, still buried in Rosie. It was almost dark in the room but they both could see fine. Now that his blood wasn't pounding so hard in his veins he could imagine what Buck said. He wouldn't want to see Estrella in pain like that.
"What are you gonna do about it? Stand over my shoulder and bark at me to slow down? We're close and all, but I don't want you there for that," Steve denied him.
"You're stuck on yourself if you think I wanna watch your fish-belly white ass. No. You need training. You can do better than this. She deserves better than this," Buck said.
He looked disapprovingly at the silicone toy.
"Buck, you can't know. I think I did pretty well, but this is making me lose my mind," Steve tried to explain.
"I know. I remember. Soon as you rescued me from Zola's experiments and I healed up some, it hit me hard. You think I was really watching the perimeter all that time, all those nights?" Bucky made a face at the memory then tipped his head at him in age-old challenge.
Steve drew in a deep breath, then let it out slow.
"So, what? You want me to slow down and be careful, like this thing has feelings I need to be mindful of?" Steve asked.
He let go of Rosie and the weight of it bent his dick down slightly so the end of it rested against the towel. It had felt intrusive when Buck first busted into his room with him being naked, but now Buck was being business like and not making a big deal of it. Like he was serious about whatever this training was.
Bucky got up to click on the bedside lamp then he sat back down.
Steve squinted in the sudden brightness until his eyes adjusted.
"There's more to it than that. You gotta learn to like it slow. Gotta learn to want it like a man, not a kid in a rush all the time," Bucky said.
Steve gave him a stern look. Insults weren't helping. He knew he was demanding. He'd figured he and Estrella would work that out between them with time. He didn't know a guy could make a girl bleed, just from friction and going at it too hard or too long. He'd thought things down there were made for it, so it would work just fine, however it went.
Bucky shook his head at him slowly. Right. Buck had always known more about these things than he did.
"What do I do?" Steve asked, resigned to it.
"First, I want you to get off like usual. I need to see your tells, learn your physiology," Buck said.
"Physiology," Steve snorted at the pretentiousness of the word, as if this was a serious thing, "You expect me to do this with you sitting there watching?"
"Yeah. You could read books about it or look it up online but we don't have time for that and you wouldn't even know what you were looking for. Go on," Buck said.
Steve stared at him.
"Now?" he asked.
His enthusiasm had gone cold though his balls still ached.
"Yeah. Never mind me. I'm like your conscience, except less prissy. I've seen it all and more, Steve. I'm not here to get my jollies. Get to it," Buck coached him briskly.
Steve tried. He had to shut his eyes to pretend Buck wasn't there. It almost worked except he could hear Bucky breathing and his heart beating. It was just normal sounds, not like he was perversely excited or anything. It was like a fly buzzing around, breaking his concentration. He was hard but he almost couldn't feel Rosie moving on him. Buck was too heavy on his awareness.
"Quit that. Think of her. You got a memory on ya. Think of the way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she wanted you," Bucky advised him.
Buck's voice wasn't as distracting as his breathing or heartbeat, especially in that low, easy tone.
His arm, his hand moved faster when he thought about Estrella as he was told. The whole run home through the city, through the traffic and the crowds and the long stretch of the park, he'd held off on thinking of Estrella. Now he indulged in memory. Rosie didn't have her heat or her living responsiveness. The clear, slick lube didn't smell at all like her but his memory was sharp. Desperate as he had been to get off, it didn't take long until he was on the approach.
Then he remembered Buck sitting there, watching.
"Don't slow down. Power through it. Get it done," Buck demanded.
It felt weird. He cracked his eyes to check Buck's expression. His pal studied him closely, coldly, like he was looking through a scope studying a mark. There was no passion in his regard.
Eh, it was only Bucky. He'd seen it before, the night he'd gotten himself in trouble with Dana. He'd heard it before, probably a lot lately. Still, it felt more personal, having Buck's undivided attention without a girl as distraction between them.
Steve shook his head at the mental setback and plowed ahead. He was close, if he could just stop thinking long enough to get over the edge. He stroked brutally hard and fast, determined to get this over with.
Bucky watched how Steve's muscles became more taut under his skin as he got closer to orgasm. There was that distracted pinch in his brow so he knew he wasn't really there yet. His lips eventually parted and his breathing got deeper. There was that classic Stevie blush, blooming all over his skin. Buck kept a careful notice of the pulse rate beating at the side of his neck. He nodded slightly in satisfaction when Steve's throat closed up and he started breathing hard through his nose, his pulse jacked up, and his posture changed into something more aggressive. The blush had happened first. That's what he needed to know.
Steve shuddered through the orgasm hard and fast. There wasn't any mess because of the cap on the end of the toy, but the wet sound changed. Through his last abrupt, jabbing movements, the toy overflowed onto the towel. Buck felt a pang of empathy at the momentary relief in the slump of Steve's shoulders.
Steve panted for a few breaths, his chest and abdomen shining with a light sheen of sweat. He closed his mouth, got his breathing under control, then looked to Bucky. The blush under his skin was still bright.
"Alright, now do it again," Buck said.
"Was I supposed to learn anything from that?" Steve asked.
His voice was medium-deep, merely reacting to the rush of testosterone, not as deep as when the girl twisted him up. That too was an indicator for Bucky. Just like the fact that he hadn't been vocal at all during any of it, not even at the end. Steve wasn't even warmed up yet. He was still too much in his head, not his body.
"No, that one was for me to learn from. Do what I tell you, punk. Get to it. You're not gonna like my instructions but do it anyway, ya hear? No pain, no gain," Buck told him.
Steve looked at him skeptically, took a brief moment for the sensitivity to pass, then started moving again. The toy made wet sounds and Steve looked to him apologetically. Buck kept his face stony and tipped his nose up a little, indicating for him to stop fucking around and get to it, never mind the squishing sounds.
It took longer this time. It was almost boring, except for the detached appreciation of Steve's physical appeal. They were familiar enough with each other, slouching around camp, tense and on-point during battle, pained from wounds, or exhausted from the effort of it all. They rarely noted physical beauty anymore. It was hard to ignore in the moment. Stevie could be in a painting or something, if the viewer didn't mind the obscenity of watching a guy work at getting himself off. Pretty or not, Buck was here to torture him a little, not to get aflutter over his looks. It was just Stevie, after all. It was like watching his right hand or his brother or something.
Buck couldn't help a smirk as he saw the blush start to rise under his skin. It wasn't as distinct as before because he'd never fully returned to pale in between. Buck paid close attention to his pulse, his posture, the degree of aggression in his muscle movements, and this time there was a hint of his voice, brief little grunts of effort.
"Stop," Buck said.
Steve's eyes flew open. He looked desperately to Bucky and saw that he meant it. Not like an emergency and they had to get dressed and he needed the suit and the shield, but just… Stop.
Steve groaned with the frustration of arrested momentum. His dick was jumping mad, his arm trembled eagerly, and his body shimmied in a squirm of defiance. His right hand made the toy's outer plastic case creak.
"Uff," Steve complained at him.
He looked mildly angry.
"Feel yourself. Right on the edge, yeah? Balls are tight, dick hard all the way back to the root. Skin feels like it's gonna bust, you're so hard. So close. You wanna push over into it, right?" Buck asked.
Steve frowned at him and nodded.
Bucky was going mostly from memory. He'd had a refresher a few days ago from his jag in Steve's shower before Banner dosed him again. He might feel dull now but he could work from memory. Their junk probably worked the same, just like every guy.
"Still tingly, feeling urgent?" he asked.
Steve shuddered again and nodded.
"Stay still. Wait it out," Buck told him.
Bucky watched as the shudders eased off and his pulse calmed some. The angry frustration of denial faded from Steve's expression. He watched Buck closely, waiting for instruction.
"If you don't feel close, then go ahead," Buck released him.
Steve started stroking himself with the toy again. He looked to Bucky thoughtfully, playing with probability in his mind.
"Stop thinking ahead. I'm the lead on this one. Trust me, pal. I'll get you through it," Buck told him.
This would take forever if Steve couldn't get out of his brain and learn to feel what he was supposed to. Steve shook his head, but he got back to it.
It took less time and then he was back at the precipice. He made to go for it like a greedy kid, but Buck was fast and watchful.
"Stop!" he barked at him.
Steve groaned and struggled. He fell forward onto his knees and his left hand, Rosie jammed deep into his groin. His hips bucked abortively. He glared hatefully at Bucky but he held more or less still.
"Good, good. What we're looking for is the point of no return. Feel that? Right at the edge before you go over?" Buck asked him calmly.
"Fuckin A!" Steve exclaimed.
His body did a strained, twitchy movement.
"Hey, hey! None of that. Cut it out," Buck fussed at him.
Steve's eyes were closed. It wasn't beyond possibility that a guy like him could push himself over with that big brain of his and a dose of sheer willpower. Bucky got up and moved. He tapped Steve on the cheek from the foot of the bed to get him out of his head.
Oh yeah. Pure hate. His angel face looked a little flamed around the edges.
Bucky smiled at the look his friend gave him. When the wrath in his eyes cooled a little Buck retreated to his chair.
It took Steve longer to back away from the edge this time. He sat back up onto his heels because being prone was too evocative of real sex, too likely to spur him over, especially if he let his hips move instead of his hand.
Steve didn't even consider that he should feel bashful about getting off in front of Buck anymore. He was barely thinking of Bucky, other than with resentment for when he was told to stop. He got the idea that he was looking to teach himself to be mindful of how it felt to stop before orgasm. Maybe he even had it figured out where all this was going and why. It didn't matter much, because his dick was on fire. Or was it ice?
He tried repeatedly to start moving again but everything tingled, refusing to calm down much. Steve threw Rosie aside, into the bathroom. The thing was a big clunky hindrance. It only had one sensation. Too intense.
His hand felt like a relief on his bare dick. It was smoother but rougher at the same time, calloused from work, but it didn't have all the extreme bumps and ridges as the inside of the toy. He could vary the pressure and the grip.
With a lighter touch, Steve started stroking again.
Buck nodded once. He'd been hoping Steve would put away the toy on his own. This kind of work called for finesse and attention to detail.
Steve's color stayed ruddy. He looked alive, finally fully engaged with his body instead of tied up in his mind. The grip of his hand was different, like he was petting a live wire instead of banging away at a numb thing.
Steve stared at his dick with concentrated wonder. He'd never felt like this while going slow. Hell, he didn't ever do slow. Every inch of slide felt electric. He wanted to go fast and grab at relief before Buck could tell him to stop, but he didn't. The sensation was so novel that he wanted it to last. He wasn't aware of the sounds he was making, but Buck was.
He watched his friend getting to know himself in a new way and he was proud. I was like unlocking the next level. Steve had it now. He was moving slow and deliberate, shaking all over like a bare nerve. His pulse didn't so much kick up as go deeper, harder.
Steve looked to him briefly, then back to his stroking.
"Can't stop it, Buck. Gonna…" he groaned and bucked, going off in his hand.
"I want you to feel it all. The movement of semen, the clenching in your ass, your balls up tight, the tension in your back. Pay attention to all of it," Buck said to him, knowing he might hear him over the moaning.
The towel caught almost everything except a few long shots. Not important. They weren't done yet. There would probably be more mess.
Bucky gave him a half minute to breathe and get himself upright again. He was still defiantly hard. Most guys would have to be drugged to stay that way after getting off twice and so thoroughly, but not Steve. His erection was as ruddy and ready as he was. His face and his body finally looked as revved and nasty as his dick. Now they were starting to get somewhere.
"Again," Buck told him.
Steve didn't argue. His hand was already there, fondly caressing, testing the sensitivity to see when he could stand to begin. He'd come a lot, so there was no chance of him running out of slick. Buck smirked at the tart scent of him in the air. It smelled like old familiar Army with a spritz of super-soldier potency.
"Good stuff, Buck, but what does this have to do with Estrella?" Steve asked lazily.
"You're only going at medium speed now, not beating it like a jack-rabbit, see? She can tolerate medium a lot better than hard and fast. You need to go for a long time, pal. Most gals are built to handle a five-minute Fred. What we need to do is get you all wrung out in a few rounds, instead of seven or eight of em. Gotta learn to make the two or three times heavy enough to equal eight times the jack-rabbit way. Are you getting it? When you stop before going over, you're priming the pump. Everything fills up, ready to go, but then you don't. You can load up like that as many times as you can stand it, then blow it all out at once. With practice, you might not want to do it any other way," Buck explained.
"I think I got it. Thanks. You should go," Steve said distractedly.
"Nuh-uh. You don't know it all yet, kid. Work with me. I promise it'll be worth it," Buck said.
Steve looked up from his stroking again but he didn't stop. Buck smiled at the heated, blown wide look of him. Steve had no idea why he smiled back, but he did. It was good so far, if frustrating, so he would play along. At least his balls weren't hurting so much.
"Alright. Don't go pansy on me. I know you got the guts. Feeling good yet?" Buck asked.
Steve nodded, not looking away from his handful.
"Pay attention to the build. Play with it. You can tease it, go fast toward it then slow down. Or you can go slow all the way. What I want you to do is think about her. You got a spare hand. Squeeze your balls, pull on em. Rub behind em. Try a little foreskin action. I know you don't like ass play, but you could try touching it, not going in. Pinch your chest, maybe like she's biting you. She likes to bite, right?" Buck asked.
Steve nodded again.
He got the idea.
While his right hand pulled and swirled around the tip, he scratched his left fingers at his pubes, like Estrella enjoyed doing. It made him smile. He wasn't pretending his touch was hers, but it helped him relive the time they'd spent in the back of the truck on the beach. That had been a great day. One of the best.
He had a moment of hesitation once again because of Bucky's presence, but then he shut his eyes and reached for his balls. His own noise and respirations were enough to distract him from noticing Bucky's. He'd played around a little before when there'd been time. Now he luxuriated in the stretching, delicate feel of moving things around. The ample slickness made for an easy slide. He could grip fairly tight and pull, and the sensitive skin slipped through his fingers with a lingering, pleasurable glide. He did that for a while, marveling at the slow build that was sneaking up on him while he distracted himself with his balls.
He kept his thumb on top of his scrotum and pressed his fingers below and back. He wiggled his sac almost painfully while he pinched his foreskin and stretched it. The hard press of his fingers along the root of his cock behind his balls inspired a longer rub.
Buck sat back in the chair and watched. Steve was lost in bliss, maybe not paying attention to the sensation of inevitability. There was a kind of tenderness in seeing a guy go deep into the sensations he could give himself. Especially a guy who was usually all about hard and fast and who never slowed down to smell the flowers. Buck was wistful, for a moment wanting to spend some quality time in his room alone like this, but there was no use thinking it. His shit wouldn't work like Steve's was now. Instead of indulging in envy, he enjoyed and imagined what he knew Steve was feeling.
He was stroking faster now, not frantic, but he wasn't playing twiddly fingers with the strokes anymore or tugging at foreskin. His left fist kept a steady pull at his balls and his right worked with purpose. The shaking and gasping rose to a pitch and Steve seemed to realize it was time a moment after Buck did.
"Stop," Bucky said.
Steve honest-to-God whined, but he stopped.
"Let go of your dick. Pinch your nipples instead or something. Change the focus," Buck told him.
It's like he was a disembodied voice because Steve acted as if it was his idea. Buck was watchful, looking at muscle tension, at how distended the large blood vessels at his neck were. It was different than when they'd first began. His whole body was into it now. Rather than sitting back on his heels, he was slightly up in a squat. The tension of his thighs was probably enjoyable, a tease at the movements he wanted to make. Steve rubbed his hands over his skin, up his tensed belly, over his chest to his neck and face, then back down again. His large hands splayed at his sides and pressed down, fingers rippling over ridges of muscle until he gripped his hips, then slid inward to grasp at the thick meat of his thighs.
It was almost embarrassing, but powerful, to see Steve viscerally appreciate the epic body he now inhabited. Buck couldn't imagine little thin Steve making the same gestures. His hands gripped at hard muscle, then moved asymmetrically. This time his left hand went to his erection while his right fingers went up to brush across his chest.
Steve was in his own world, enjoying sensation. His hips thrust forward with eagerness as his stroking resumed and he started tweaking his nips. Bucky grinned, wondering where he'd gone in his mind. Changing hands could feel like somebody else was touching you.
"Yaa," Steve murmured, low enough to not be heard by most.
He was thinking about his girl. Whatever the fantasy was, it was strong. The rush to orgasm surprised them both. Words weren't going to be enough this time.
"Stop," Buck said, and he reached to grab Steve by the throat with his left arm.
Buck shoved his hand away from his erection.
Steve wasn't taking it easy anymore. He came off the bed and slammed Bucky against the wall across from the bed. He'd somehow managed to get the hand off his throat, probably because of how sweat-slick his skin was and because he had a high tolerance for pain. He held Bucky immobile instead. Buck didn't recognize his friend in the man who stared at him, then hauled back and head-butted him hard enough to dent the sheetrock. It hurt but he'd had worse. The aggressive reaction got his attention off his dick. That was effective but Buck wondered what to do with the situation.
He hadn't intended for things to get physical between them. It looked like his pal wasn't done punishing him yet. A hard fist drew back. Buck knew it wasn't gonna be a pulled hit, with the way he was tensing his whole body into it.
"Steve. C'mon, snap out of it, buddy," Buck said.
He deflected the worst of the blow but his ears rang and his brain felt a little sloshed. To get him back from wherever he'd gone, Buck pulled him into a hug. Acting defensive could encourage a guy, and so could aggression. Unexpected affection worked to diffuse things sometimes.
Steve jerked away from the wall and tore out of Bucky's grip. He got back on the bed like nothing had happened and went back to stroking. Buck rubbed at the side of his head and went back to his chair.
The aggression and the blows didn't bother him. Steve was clearly done with being told to stop. He didn't like being handled by a guy during sex. Buck got the message, loud and clear. What bothered him was the animal meanness in Steve's eyes through the odd episode of behavior. He hadn't seen that in his friend, ever.
Buck sat back down and decided to stay and watch instead of trying to control Steve anymore. He wanted to know who the guy on the bed was. When would Steve come back? Where had he gone? Buck wanted him to hurry up and get off already, he was so concerned. The look in Steve's eyes looked a lot like the deadness he felt inside when he was the Winter Soldier. He didn't want to see that kind of cold focus in his warm, sunny friend. If Steve wasn't acting right soon he'd have to call help.
It wasn't going to end soon. Steve had himself figured out now. For almost an hour, he played with and teased himself approaching the edge and backing off. For the last of it, he worked himself slowly. His balls looked tight and full. Buck should have recalled that Steve liked torturing himself into doing things the hard way. By the time he allowed himself to go off, he was a noisy, twitching mess.
Steve was laid out flat on his back with his heels dug into the mattress, both hands on his dick, and his head thrown back in a grimace. Buck knew he was particularly dangerous because of the slow, deep breaths he was taking. He was completely gooned. Buck rolled his eyes. Steve had always been an over-achiever. Show him something once and he would soon be doing it better than his teacher.
Buck stayed hopefully quiet through the drawn out, impressive orgasm. He felt he should get a towel for Steve but the moment was tense. He waited until Steve relaxed and let go of himself, then he waited some more.
It took several minutes before his friend's muscle tension melted away and his breathing and the color of his skin returned to normal. Steve finally smiled, but something about it was wrong. He could tell when Steve sensed his presence. He stilled, the smile went away, and his head turned toward the chair in the corner.
Buck stayed cool and outwardly relaxed. He had a series of moves planned to get him out of the room if he had to. The shield wasn't far from his chair. He could use that, if he could get to it first.
Steve's eyes looked different. Maybe it was all the exertion, but they looked darker somehow. It was a big relief to see recognition and belated bashfulness in his expression.
He looked down at his sloppy skin then reached back to tug the bedcover over himself.
"I just did that?" he asked self-consciously.
He looked relaxed and happy, ready for a nap. Buck knew he had no memory of his strange lapse and he wasn't gonna tell him. Steve was back from wherever he'd gone. That was good enough for now.
"Yeah. Better than jack-rabbit service?" Buck asked.
"You bet. Is that another thing every guy knows, but I missed out on?" he wondered.
"Nah. Some do, some don't. Imagine that. You're not the worst rookie around anymore," Buck said.
He got up from his chair and went to put Rosie in Steve's bathroom sink. He made sure to keep the right side of his head away from Steve's view, in case he looked. His ear throbbed and felt hot. He knew it was swollen from taking a hit to the head.
Buck turned off the bathroom light and didn't linger for long. He loved the guy but he wasn't cleaning up after sex for him. He could do that himself.
"You suck ass. I hate you. You learn everything so quick," Buck grumbled.
Steve was all angel smiles again. He took the sass as the affection it was intended to be, then tried to change the subject.
"You should hear Estrella. She's already figuring out her guitar. She's had it for what, two hours? When I got there she was teaching herself Hotel California," Steve smiled in goofy relaxation. He rolled over to face Bucky, taking the covers with him.
"She's a smart cookie with a natural talent for it. No telling where she'll go with the skills. Hey, you figured out how this stuff is supposed to help with her?" Buck asked.
He waved a hand toward the bed to indicate what they'd learned.
"Yeah, Buck. I gotta pay attention to the small sensations, the details. I need to get more enjoyment outta less time and movement, more cargo in the load," Steve agreed.
"Good. It's early but I'm beat. Hey, don't do that stuff too often, huh? It can get addictive and then you might not want your girl as much," Buck said on his way out of the room.
"Loud 'n clear. Thanks," Steve called through the door after he'd shut it.
Buck stripped down in his room to get some sleep. Several days of tending to the girl and being alert all the time had worn him down. He lay in his bed in the dark and listened to Steve move around and get clean.
He had concerns about Steve. Maybe they were unfounded and whatever that was would only show itself when he was deep in the animal part of his brain and another guy bothered him during sex. That was a real possibility. It bothered him that Steve was capable of being that, whatever it was, and then not remembering it afterwards.
His ear and the bruises on the side of his head were already healing. He would be unmarked by morning. Buck decided he wasn't going to tell anybody, not even Natalia. He would, if he ever saw it again. For now, he'd let Steve be. If he'd needed to, he'd have taken Steve down however he had to and gone down with him, likely out the window to a fall that would surely kill them a thousand feet below.
It wasn't hard to sleep. If Steve wanted to do anything freaky to him, he could and Buck wouldn't fight it. It seemed the danger had passed. Steve sounded happy and at ease as he moved around his bedroom.
…..
They sat at the table by the window early the next morning. Steve was dressed and ready to go down to the office. He perused the paper Buck had been reading the day before while they ate.
Buck decided that he looked entirely normal. The darkened intensity in his eyes last night had likely just been a holdover from recent vigorous sex. Steve caught him looking.
"What?" he asked over his orange juice, then he took a sip.
"Nothin. Just… your eyes looked funny last night after. I never saw that," Buck said.
"Hmm. Yeah, Pepper mentioned it when we were on the road. I was having dinner with her, just after I showered," Steve made a familiar hand motion.
"Physiology, I figure," Steve said, then shrugged.
"Fuck you," Bucky pretended to rile under his teasing.
Steve grinned at him, then kept eating.
Buck didn't feel completely cheerful because he soon had to head to a session with Natalia. It fluffed his mood to see Steve feeling so good. Sunlight spilled over the entire table. Steve's phone buzzed where it sat near the edge. He picked it up to look. He smiled. It was Estrella telling him good morning. He responded, then set the phone down again.
He looked sharp and curious to Bucky when a small black knife stuck the back of his hand. Steve didn't bother with the knife. Buck pulled it out of his skin, from between the bones. Then he wiped up the blood that welled from the cut and licked his finger.
Buck nodded in satisfaction.
"What would you have done if I wasn't me?" Steve asked.
"I dunno. I imagine Jarvis would have picked up on it by now. Just making sure," Buck said.
"I'm in a good mood. Is that so strange?" Steve wondered.
"I guess so. You've been a real tightass lately," Buck complained.
"Lot on my mind. I wish I could run off sometimes but I got a job to do. Don't go around stabbing people, alright? Some folks don't heal," Steve said.
He got up and took his plate to the sink. He rinsed the back of his hand clean.
"Right. I nicked Jesse. Only a little. He acted damn weird. Soon as I opened the door he rushed me. Idiot. You supposedly sent him, but I don't trust much anymore," Buck admitted.
"My fault. He feels people. Some people, not everyone. I should have told you but I wanted his visit to be a surprise for Estrella. I knew you could handle him. I didn't know he would react to you that way. He saw you as a threat," Steve guessed.
Buck nodded and put more bacon in his mouth.
"It's no big thing. He's fine. Go on. You have that thing on the Wallis show this afternoon, right?" Buck asked.
Steve nodded and shrugged into his suit coat. Buck didn't much like him in a suit. He'd rather see him in the uniform or casuals.
"Don't let em eat you alive. Be smart," Buck said.
"I know how to do my job, Buck. I didn't fall off the turnip truck yesterday. Neither did you," Steve said.
He paused before heading out the door.
"I wanna go out with Estrella. Got any ideas where I could take her that's not public? I want my time with the other girls to be in front of cameras, not with her," Steve said.
Bucky put up his hands briefly.
"I'm done holding your hand, pal. You'll figure it out. Hold off a few days before you ask her. Make her wait a little," Buck suggested.
"I thought you were done holding my hand?" Steve sassed.
"Pttttttt," Bucky blew a juvenile raspberry at him.
Steve laughed on his way out the door to work.
….
End Note: Was that too much? Should I have put a specific warning for the bedroom scene with Buck and Steve? Part of the problem was I wouldn't have known what kind of warning to put.
