Peter stands nervously, hands wringing in front of them as move slowly in the line.

"You sure about this?" He asks quietly.

Steve looks down at him with an easy smile. "Yeah, trust me. No one is looking for Avengers here. And they sure won't look at the cripple, the amputee, and the teenager."

Peter glances at Bucky Barnes who rolls his eyes and shoves his sunglasses onto his face. The ball cap that he wears almost matches Steve's. Same design, different color. He left his metal arm back at the tower and has his shirt sleeve pinned up. Steve has a cane that he doesn't technically need much anymore, but he said it would help them 'blend in'.

Peter's dressed normally, except the beanie on his head and the glasses that he hasn't worn since he got bit a few years ago.

"Three tickets, please." Steve says to the lady behind the pane of glass. And even though he pays with a card that clearly says Steven G. Rogers. She doesn't pay them a second glance.

They pass through security and enter the stadium. Steve winks at him and chuckles, "see? No one's the wiser."

Peter gawks at the throngs of people passing them, shouting to each other, and calling for whatever snacks the barkers are carrying.

"It's amazing." Peter admits, "and kinda crazy." He looks at the two super soldiers. "I mean, I get why no one recognizes me. My face is always hidden. But you guys… you fight with no mask," he points to Bucky, "and you have one of the most recognizable faces in history." He glances around at the people around them that are completely ignoring the three. "And not a single person has recognized you guys yet. And you're together! Captain America and the Winter Soldier!"

"Can it, kid." Bucky scowls. "You wanna start turning heads?"

But Steve just laughs and starts to lead them to their seats, "if people were looking for us, they'd still have a hard time. We're just Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Just two kids from Brooklyn."

They take their seats and Steve pays to get a huge bag of popcorn, which Bucky digs into. "With our metabolisms combined?" Peter says wryly, "we could probably make a dent in their popcorn inventory.

Steve and Bucky look at each other and a mischievous glance passes between them.

"He wouldn't." Bucky says. "It wouldn't be fair."

"He might." Steve says slowly, eyes trailing to Peter. "He could be holding out on us."

"What?" Peter says, "what!"

"You wanna little friendly competition?"

He looks between the two men and gulps, "like?"

"It's a game we used to play with the commandos. Who can eat the most during the game. Extra points if the others don't see you get the food."

Peter's mouth gapes, "and no webs." Steve says to him firmly. "Don't want your identity getting out."

"How would we get food without the others noticing?"

"Use your imagination." Bucky says, a box of cracker jacks suddenly in his hands. Peter's eyes widen like saucers,

"Where did that come from!" But the assassin just smiles at him and Steve rolls his eyes.

"You up for a challenge? Fair warning, we've done this a lot."

Peter grins, "I'm in."

—-

Near the 6th inning, Peter's stomach is about to burst, while Bucky looks vaguely sick and Steve seems pretty comfortable.

He tries not to groan at the appearance of a spool of cotton candy that somehow has managed to find its way into Steve's hands.

Everything from false bathroom trips, secret exchanges with barkers, and bribing people next to them has been employed by the three to try to sneak food.

"You guys give up?" Steve asks with a grin on his face, "you're both looking a little green."

"Don't get smart, Rogers." Bucky says. "I've eaten more than you, so your confidence is unwarranted."

"So far." Steve says calmly, pulling out a box of milk duds from his pockets.

"Where the hell did those come from!" Bucky practically shouts, "they don't even sell those here!"

"Hmm… I like to come prepared."

"You're a bastard, you know that?"

"Not technically."

Peter laughs, clutching his stomach and gasping for air. "Ooowww, ow, ow, ow, stop. You guys, my stomach's about to split."

"Give up?" They ask at the same time, a competitive gleam in their eyes.

"No way." He groans, swallowing down another gulp of water. "Just getting started."

"If he pukes." Bucky says, pointing at Peter, "I'm not cleaning it up."

Steve just laughs.

—

They stand for the 7th inning stretch and Peter looks down at his distended belly. "I have a tummy." He says with a surprised tone.

Bucky and Steve just look at him before busting out laughing. The crowd is singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" and the two are just laughing, pointing at Peter's stomach and laughing. He joins in and finally they settle back into their seats.

"You were like a toddler." Bucky grins, mimicking Peter's voice "'I have a tummy'." He laughs again and Peter looks at Steve who's smiling widely at his friend. He looks down at Peter with a grateful smile and Peter smiles back, warmth blooming in his chest.

—-

"What the hell!" Barton says as they enter back into the tower, "You guys suck! I would have gone!"

Peter watches as Steve sets the new Yankees cap he'd bought down on the counter. "Too many avengers would have started drawing attention." Bucky says. "I can take off my arm and hide, can you?"

"I'm an international assassin." Barton huffs, "I think I can hide in a crowd."

Steve looks genuinely sorry, "I'm sorry. Clint. I should have asked who else wanted to go."

"Yeah." The marksman pouts. "You should have."

"Come with us next time?"

"Come where?" They look up to see Natasha and Tony enter the room from the elevator.

"They went to a baseball game without us."

Tony looks affronted, "what! Why did you tell me? I could have gotten us a box, done it up right!"

Bucky groans and Peter watches as Steve looks on guiltily, "Sorry, Tony. Peter said he'd never been… and…" he looks up at the billionaire, "I kind of wanted him to have a normal experience."

"Normal's boring." Tony replies, "so is baseball, by the way."

"Actually," Peter pipes in, looking over towards Steve and Bucky, "I had a lot of fun."

The two pleased smiles he receives are worth the eye-roll Tony gives him. "Fun with two geriatrics. Impossible."

Bruce walks in with Wanda and they start to discuss what they want for dinner. Bucky groans and Peter waves his hands, "no food for me."

"What? Kid, why not? You gotta eat!" Tony says.

And Steve, with a wicked grin on his face looks at the two of them, "yeah guys, aren't you hungry? I know I am."

"Screw you." Bucky snarls, sitting heavily in a chair, "maybe being a prideful jerk works up an appetite."

Steve laughs and turns towards the group, "guess the sore losers aren't eating, how does Vietnamese sound?"

—-

Steve's sleeping when his senses prick. He opens his eyes and notices that the chair at the foot of his bed is taken. It's usually Tony or Bruce.

He listens to the heart beat.

Bruce.

He sits up and sees that the man is asleep. Steve lays back down, he'll ask him what was wrong when he wakes.

—

Bucky watches as Steve enters the common room kitchen with a face of relief.

He waits as Steve makes breakfast for himself and sits down to eat it before walking over. "I know that look."

Steve looks up, a grin on his face that he can't stifle, "what look?"

"The 'I'm finally fully healed and can go off and get myself hurt again' look."

Steve huffs, "I am, as a matter of fact, feeling 100% thank you very much, but I do not have a look."

"I swear, Steve. If you do not go at least a few months without an injury, I will break your back again just to keep you locked in this damn compound."

"Don't be dramatic, Buck."

Bucky's frowns, "me? You're calling ME dramatic? Do you want me to list the injuries you've received in the last two years chronologically? Or alphabetically?"

Steve just shakes his head with a smile, "you worry too much."

"You don't worry enough!"

"You wanna spar?" Steve asks, eyeing him hopefully, "I haven't had a real match in so long, since before the whole…" he pauses and tilts his head, "I guess we fought at the raft, but does that really count? I don't know."

"Not you casually mentioning our death match." Bucky growls, "us barely surviving while you tried to tear us apart like a tornado." Steve winces and Bucky relents, "Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just… somehow we watched you get brainwashed and didn't even notice. I don't care that it was almost a year ago. It's still fresh."

"Bruce was in my room last night…" Steve mentions, brow furrowing, "you know why?"

Bucky pauses and his eyes wander over to the silly calendar that Clint had hung on the fridge. It only takes a second before Bucky's frowning at Steve.

"Today's the two year mark of the day…" he stops and looks at the calendar, "they took you. Dr. Raymond and Beck."

Bucky watches Steve's spine stiffen, "two years already?"

He nods solemnly, "can't believe I didn't realize it until now."

"It's not really something I want memorialized."

He looks down at the mug in his hands. "Bruce took that really hard. Not realizing it wasn't you on the phone. He probably just felt… just wanted to check on you."

Steve nods at him and sighs, "I feel so bad. People shouldn't have to worry about me so much, it's not befitting a Captain."

"It's because you're our Captain that we care so much."

Bucky turns to see Clint and Natasha standing at the elevator doors, "you're not just some guy. You run our team. Without you…" Clint starts.

"It all falls to shit." Natasha says wryly, nudging Clint's ribs.

"What she said." Barton agrees.

"But we do have a proposition for you." Natasha says with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"Oh?" Steve asks, interest piqued, "what's that?"

"James here is under the impression that you hold back. Even when you're up against your equals or close too."

"Buck's mistaken."

Bucky snorts.

"Okay. So says you. So we propose a challenge."

Bucky sees Steve straighten and rolls his eyes. The man can't back down from a challenge.

"What is it?"

Natasha clicks something on her watch and smiles. "Meet us down in the gym and we'll explain the rules."

And then they disappear leaving Bucky to sigh as Steve smiles at him and says, "I'm gonna go change. Meet us in the gym?"

"Fine." Bucky mutters.

—

Steve enters the gym and is surprised at the crowd that is gathered there.

Tony, Natasha, Clint, and Bucky stand together on one side of the sparring mat. Wanda and Bruce sit on the benches to the left looking at the group, unsure of what's going on, and lastly Peter stands in the middle of the mat, looking nervous.

He steps towards the mat and their eyes turn to him. Natasha stalks forward, a hat in her hand.

"Okay, here are the rules. You and Peter are going to fight. The way to win is to pin the other down longer than 12 seconds. Or until the other fighter relents. Loser has to choose an option out of the hat."

Steve eyes Natasha suspiciously, "what are the options in the hat?"

"Embarrassing things the loser must do because they lost."

"Embarrassing how?" Peter asks nervously.

Tony holds up a hat. "Each of us four," he points to the people he's standing with, "have put an option in for each of you. What's embarrassing for you might not matter to good ol' Cap here. So don't worry. The embarrassment is tailored."

Steve looks at Bucky, "so you knew about this?"

He shrugs, "when Natasha told me the rules I knew I wanted in. Mine's real good."

Steve rolls his eyes and steps onto the mat. "Don't worry, Peter. You're gonna do great. Don't worry about the peanut gallery."

Peter looks at him, eyes wide and nods. "O-okay."

"You guys ready?" Clint asks. When they both nod, the archer claps his hands. "Let's get ready to rumble!"

—-

Steve does have to try. He's impressed with the kid. Fast and agile, dodging his punches and Steve's grasping hands. He took the advice to heart and avoids getting within arms' length of Steve, but Steve let's him land punches and hits that he wouldn't if this were a real fight.

He thought he was doing a good job of feigning, except he hears Bucky whisper to Natasha, "see? Right there. Told you. He's letti—" the rest gets cut off as he leans back, dodging Peter's foot.

So he tries harder, making sure he moves a touch faster, uses a bit more of his strength, putting up a good fight and enjoying how easy he and Peter fall into rhythm. Peter's sense allows him to keep pace with Steve. And when Peter sweeps his feet out frrm under him, using his considerable strength to hold him down, Steve doesn't fight too hard.

When 12 seconds is called he sighs and shakes Peter's hand, "good job, you're an excellent fighter!"

The kid is beaming and they're both sweaty and Wanda and Bruce are clapping. But Tony, Clint, and Natasha are grinning like wildcats. Bucky's face is annoyed.

They walk over and Bucky stares at him, "really? You think any of us believe that performance?"

Steve furrows his eyebrows, "what are you talking about?"

Tony laughs, "no offense, kid." He says to Peter, "but Steve, come on, I watched you fight all three of these guys on the raft. You think what we just saw was your all?"

Steve acts affronted, "guys! Peter is stronger than all of you! And me!"

Peter ducks his head, and Steve claps him on the shoulder. "Don't let these sore losers get you down. They don't know how to show respect when someone outpowers them."

And that's when Natasha puts her hand out, the hat extended towards Steve. "Okay. You wanna play that way? Choose your loser's consequence."

Steve rolls his eyes and grabs a slip of paper out of the hat. He opens it and stares at the scrawled handwriting that he recognizes as Tony's.

Go on National Television and tell everyone the "fondue" story my dad told me.

Steve's mouth gapes and he chokes out a scoff, "is this a joke?"

They glance over at what it says and Tony smirks. "Nope. You gotta do it. Or pick another slip. But fair warning. Once you pick another one, you can't go back to a previous one."

"What's the fondue story?" Peter asks, leaning around Steve's arm to see the slip.

Bucky snorts and Steve glares at him. "I'm not doing that." He hisses, crumpling the paper and throwing it at Tony, where it bounces off the man's glasses.

"Okay," Tony says with a smile, "no harm. Pick another."

Steve selects another and feels his teeth grit at the words

Go on National Television and tell the whole world that you lied about me loving football. That it was a petty little scheme to embarrass me and that you fooled all those first responders and military just to get at me.

He feels his eyes widen and he looks up at a smug Natasha.

"So?" She asks, "you want to pick another?"

Steve growls and crumples that one. No way he's doing that either. He grabs the second to last slip thinking there's nothing that could be worse than the last two.

And then he sees Clint's handwriting.

Post a full-frontal nude selfie from your official Captain America Twitter handle.

He feels himself flush from head to toe and Clint starts laughing, clutching at his stomach and the rest are giggling.

"I'm not doing that!" He scowls, throwing the slip at Clint who dodges it and then catches it in mid-air. "You only got one left. And it's Barnes', you wanna take that chance?"

"Buck. I swear—"

"You gunna pick it or not?"

His jaw clamps shut and he rips the final slip out of the hat.

Fight the kid again. And this time, actually fucking try. If you don't win. Or if I can tell you're faking. You're doing Barton's. No exceptions.

He stares at the slip of the paper and the room is silent, and he looks up to see four very pleased with themselves expressions.

"You guys are the worst. You know that?"

"Bite us, Stevie." Natasha says mockingly, "this is your payback."

"Peter?" Steve says calmly.

"Uh, yeah?" The kid responds, looking a bit lost.

"You mind going a second round?"

"Oh. No, yeah. That's fine. I still feel fresh. I'm ready to go."

Steve sighs, "okay, good. Let's go."

Steve rolls his shoulders and feels the deep well. The unending pit of energy that has been there since Dr. Erskine had given him the serum. He's well fed, well rested, and uninjured, so the energy source feels endless. He looks at the nervous kid in front of him and already knows exactly how this fight will turn out. He's seen the kid fight enough times to be able to strategize around his spider sense and his ability to leap and use his webs.

He'd let the kid win because it's good for positive reinforcement. And truthfully the kid is stronger than him in small bursts. But Steve isn't known for being cautious. He's known for his wild strategies and his airtight command. His ability to see patterns and lead others through the dark. His stamina and endurance knows very little bounds.

The kid could go toe-to-toe with him. He's sure of it. But if Steve needs to win. Then he will. Simple as that.

"Ready?" Natasha calls, "go."

And with that, Steve shifts his stance and stares as the kid mirrors his stance.

A small smirk crosses his face as Peter leaps forward, charging first.

Big mistake, kid.

—-

It takes 3 minutes.

Steve fights, using his strength and speed to avoid Peter's wild assaults from all angles. But eventually Steve shifts, not allowing his body to give away his thoughts so as not to tip off the sense. His body goes right, but his right foot goes left, catching Peter's foot, hooking it and throwing him off balance. Quick as a flash, Steve grabs Peter's ankles and places a heavy foot on his back, while reaching with his other hand and grasping Peter's wrists.

He pulls on both paired extremities, tight enough to hold him secure. Steve groans as the kid uses his incredible might to pull his limbs free, but Steve isn't holding him with sheer strength. If so, Peter would outstripe him.

Steve's holding him through sheer force of will. Exerting the force he's had since before the serum. The unbending unbreakable will to keep going. To never give up.

That force, coupled with his immense strength, is how he holds the kid steady, immovable. But then Peter makes a sound of distress.

Steve's head snaps up, as does Bucky's and he lets go of Peter's limbs immediately, stepping back, chest tight.

Peter lays on the floor, face down and panting. Steve steps forward and crouches by the kid, "Peter?" He asks, reaching out a hand, but Peter must sense it coming because he flinches.

Steve recoils, yanking his hand back and standing up. Peter doesn't look at him.

Anguish and guilt roll through him and he berates himself. This is exactly why he doesn't use his full strength against his team. Ever. He feels guilt roll in his stomach at the image of Peter lying there. He's just a kid. And Steve had let himself be goaded.

He looks up and the surprised looks on his team makes him sick to his stomach.

"I—" he starts, but he flushes with shame. So he backs up to the stairs and is gone.

—

He doesn't sleep. His mind whirring with how he managed to let the fight get away with him. He runs over the amount of strength he was using on Peter and sighs.

He didn't think it was too much. But obviously he was wrong.

He looks out the big glass window and leans his forehead on the pane of glass, furious at himself.

Bucky had knocked earlier. Trying to talk him out of his room, but he hadn't answered.

A sound makes him look up and he listens. A fast heartbeat and nervous breathing. He feels his chest constrict as he hears a ceiling tile in his bathroom get removed.

He waits, and the door barely pulls open. He watches as Peter steps out, wringing his hands and looking around. Peter hasn't noticed him yet and he stands absolutely still, not wanting to frighten the kid again.

Peter walks through the large entryway into the bedroom and stares at the empty bed. He must hear Steve's heartbeat because his eyes snap over to him and Steve winces.

"Hey, Peter."

"Hey…" the kid says softly, eyeing the floor.

"I'm really sorry about today. I shouldn't have—"

"Don't." Peter says, face screwing up, "don't apologize. It wasn't your fault."

"What?" Steve asks, feeling confused, "what are you talking about? Of course it wa—"

"No." The kid urges, looking mad, "I was stupid and—-" He looks over at the bed and sighs, shoulders sagging. "They said… the team said that you're okay with people talking to you. Whenever, wherever. That your bed has kind of become a team bed."

Steve chuckles a little I surely, "I mean… yeah, I guess that's true. I…" he looks at the young kid and sees a shimmer of his old self, thin and wary of the world, but unwilling to stand by and let a wrong go unnoticed. "I like to make sure my team knows they can talk to me now. I wasn't so great at that before. So this became a place where people let their guards down."

Peter eyes the bed and seems unsure. So Steve takes a deep breath and walks over, sitting in the middle, dragging his legs under him, cross legged, leaning back against the headboard.

Peter sags and sits on the edge, curling his knees up under his chin. "I knew."

Steve tilts his head, "knew what?"

"They told me you'd let me win the first round. That they were going to ensure you'd choose to fight me again. And it was all fine, they really didn't mean any harm by it, I was a willing participant. But…"

Steve swallows thickly, "but I hurt you?"

"No." Peter says quickly, "no, no. You didn't. I wasn't in pain. I promise. I—" he ducks his head beneath his chin, "It was your foot, pressing on my back. I was thrown back to my first real fight with the vulture, did Tony tell you about that?" Steve nods, he's heard the short version. "I got tricked, and next thing I knew there was all this concrete smashing against my back, crushing me and… and something about the way your foot was holding me and my limbs that way, I just…" he shrinks tighter, "I just let it get the best of me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. You didn't hurt me, I promise."

Steve feels a slight sense of relief at not having harmed him. "Thank you for explaining that to me." Steve says softly. "I really do appreciate it. But I'm still sorry for letting them goad me into a second fight."

"But you did let me win the first fight." Peter says, a tad bit of annoyance in his voice. "Why?"

Steve rolls his eyes and leans back, "why is everyone so obsessed with whether they can beat me or not? Peter, you are stronger than me. I just know it. If we had to lift weights I believe you could lift more than me. But… if it was a competition of who could lift heavy weights the longest… well… then maybe I'd win that. You see what I'm saying?" Peter's looking at him, studying his words. "If it was a race, I think I'd be able to run faster for longer, but your heightened sense would beat mine, even though all five of mine are enhanced. Why does it have to be a competition? I can strategize around your skills and beat you in a fight. For now. But with years of experience and trying? Who knows? You could probably take me easy. But we're a team. So it's not a question I need answered."

Peter studies the comforter, running his fingers over the soft cover. "So you're not mad?"

Steve laughs, finally feeling the weight from this afternoon disappear. "Kid, I thought you were afraid of me. I'm elated that you're not!"

Peter smiles and pulls himself onto the bed, laying on his back. "I can't believe I fought Captain America today. It's crazy to think."

"Same." Steve says with a smile. "I fought Spider-Man. It was pretty cool."

Even in the darkness of the room, the kid's smile is blinding.

—

Steve wakes up to find Peter has wound his way up and is asleep with his head on Steve's pillow. He yawns and pauses as more heartbeats register. He blinks and sees Natasha and Clint asleep on his little couch, post-it notes on their foreheads.

He uses his enhanced vision to read the notes in the dark.

Natasha's says: We're

And Clint's says: Sorry

He stifles a chuckle and peers over the edge. Tony and Bucky are sprawled on the ground, post-it's on their chests.

Tonys: We're

Bucky's: Jerks

Bruce and Wanda must be in the living room, because he can hear their heartbeats too.

Steve smiles and leans back, noticing another post-it note on his lamp shade. He tugs it off and reads the clear handwriting:

We promise to never use the kid again.

Even if we were right.

Sincerely,

Your Team of Jerks.

Steve gently lays the post-it note on the bedside table, intending to keep it, tucked between the pages of one of his favorite books for safe keeping.

—-