Author: Salios

Date: December 13, 2012

Fandom: Harry Potter/Avengers Crossover

Pairing: Harry Potter/Steve Rogers (Cpt. America)

Rating: T-M

Warning: This story will contain male/male relationships, including
intimacy ranging from light kissing to possible sex. Swearing and descriptions of violence and gore also possible.

Disclaimer: I do not own either fandom or their associated
characters; this is a fan piece and not written for profit.

Earl Grey and Apple Pie: Chapter 4

SURPRISE! :D

Steve scrunched his toes, stiffened his shoulders, and wrung his hands. He'd probably said the absolutely worst and last question he could have come up with. Even as a hero to the masses, he had been faced with that same accusatory question; how else could a twenty-something survive for so long in the ice of the arctic, untouched? He'd been hounded and accosted, threatened and cursed. All by the people whom he had risked his own life to protect, who had, until his de-icing, been proclaimed a saint. He was a good catholic boy himself, so he had vehemently protested being labelled a saint. Though being the devil wasn't much better.

"I suppose that is a fair question." his hands paused in their dry washing. "Though, honestly, I'm not sure how much I'm able to actually tell you." At Steve's confused look he added, "Most of what I can't tell you is information I don't know or understand myself. Some of the little bits I had only concerned myself with in passing, and a few of the larger, more important tidbits I was left out of altogether." Here he shrugged, as though not knowing crucial information was normal for him and didn't bother him at all. He absently mopped up the spilled tea with a cloth plucked from the underside of the counter.

"I think that my... Oddities... Are due in part to a number of near-death experiences and attempted murders that I experienced as a child and into my teens." Again, his face didn't change, not even a twitch. Steve thought for a moment that Harry was joking and that at any moment he would break out in a grin and tell the blonde that his eyes were some new contact lenses he was trying out for a party of some kind. That moment passed and Harry had the same nonchalant expression, though his eyes seemed a bit duller, older. "As far as I know, the first instance was barely a month after my first birthday; a man, who was the head of a violent terrorist cell, had been hunting my parents. Somehow he had caught up with them, though we later learned that this was due to the betrayal of one of their closest friends, and killed them both."

Steve swallowed, watching those vibrant irises darken and lose their healthy glow.

"He'd killed them with – what do you call it - a, laser? Yes, a laser. He shot them both and then made his way to me. It didn't quite work out the way he had planned though." He paused again, tilting his head to side in consideration. "I should elaborate; the laser worked quite well, there was no problem at all with the method he chose to dispatch my family with. The outcome, adversely, was not at all what he had expected. The laser stuck me, just above the point between my eyes," Here he gestured to a much faded scar. "And somehow rebounded back upon him. Not expecting this, he had no time to dodge the projectile, and was gravely injured. He literally held onto life by a few strands.

"Moving forward, I faced his people several times in my youth, hence the other near death instances. There was one case where I was bitten by a very rare and poisonous snake. There were a number of myths and rumours circulating around concerning the abilities of the creature. I can attest to the strength of its poison at least. I watched it eat through parchment, leather, and even stone. So when I was bitten and then lived, there was much speculation." He grinned a bit here and gestured to his right arm, where supposedly he had been bitten. "I believe I was hit with that laser at least once more, and you now see the results." Harry focused on Steve, and laughed. It was a sharp bark which startled Steve from his slack-jawed staring.

"You can't be serious."

"Oh I wish I wasn't! Try as I might, and believe me I really have, I've never been any good at being ordinary and boring!"

Steve let out a choked laugh, lips twisted into a wry smile.

"What?"

"Sorry, it's nothing, continue."

Here, Harry prodded his laced fingers atop the table with one calloused fingertip.

"Nope, definitely isn't, so you'd better spill." He grinned at Steve's deepened scowl but didn't let up.

"Alright, fine!" Steve huffed in irritation, swatting at the persistent digit. "I'm the complete opposite of you."

"...Really now...?" One dark brow arched high.

"Really."

"Well then, I would love to hear it." Harry grinned.

"You say you've never been good at boring or normal? I'm your opposite. Until I joined the army, I wasn't extraordinary enough to pick out from a crowd of African Americans." Harry tried to hold back a snort, but didn't do so well as Steve glanced at him with a somewhat frustrated look. He continued his narrative as Harry mimicked locking his mouth and tucking the key into his pocket. "Anyway, I was that tall, scrawny kid who got his as - behind handed to him nearly every day." Harry just about bit into his own hand trying to stifle his laughter. Steve was from another time, and he sometimes let the influence of modern times colour his language. It somehow felt wrong to use such a crass adjective in front of Harry. He pushed his consideration of why to the back of his mind. "I was the local punching bag, even when I attended university."

"What did you take?" Harry slapped the hand back over his mouth and flushed. The words had just popped out of his mouth of their own accord, he swore!

Steve gave a little laugh. "Art, I loved to sketch and paint, and I was even trying my hand at sculpting just before I gave that up to join the army." Harry boggled at him for a moment, taking in the broad, muscular shoulders, the thick biceps, sturdy forearms, and the very obviously muscled pectorals that peeked out from the front of the sweater.

'Scrawny, right. As if this man has even been less than a powerhouse in his entire life! I can see the artist though; those hands seem so sure and careful. I wonder what he could do with - No, No! Bad brain! Bad! Stop working with my damn libido!' Harry proceeded to mentally punch himself in the general vicinity of his groin in an attempt to knock back his libido's interest.

"I'm being completely honest here, I was an absolute twig before I joined up." Steve spread his hands wide.

"I'm sorry mate, I'm just having trouble imagining... well, imagining you as a twig. I have a very vivid imagination, and I'm honestly not seeing it." Harry's words were slightly garbled by his chuckles.

Steve scowled. "Anyway." Harry coughed, held up a hand to catch his breath, and then nodded for the annoyed blonde man to continue. "Joining the army gave me the chance to be the protector I'd always wanted to be. My dad was in the war, and I wanted to follow his lead." He didn't specify what war; let Harry believe he was talking about some more recent warfare instead of the Great War at the beginning of the twentieth century. "I got the training I had craved, and the body I had always dreamed of having," Harry couldn't help but crave that body himself. 'Ack! Down boy, down!' The brunette mentally batted that thought away too. "And I became that extraordinary man I'd always wanted to be. I mean, sure, I got a lot of flack before the war. Every attempt I made to join up was met with failure; too skinny, too weak, too sick. I had some health problems, but my enthusiasm should have more than made up for my body's failings."

Harry knew that feeling all too well; beatings and starvation from the Dursley's had left him far underweight and below his originally estimated height and weight. He'd been an emaciated child until after the war when he had finally been able to live on his own.

"And after I had joined and was in the thick of things, people changed from calling me a coward to calling me evil, and a murderer."

Harry definitely knew what those words felt like against an already shaky self-esteem.

"It didn't seem to matter much what I did, because there was always someone to kick me back down and make me doubt my own life." Steve's hands had returned to the table as he hunched over the war mug of tea, which Harry had prepared this time. His long fingers stroked the sides of the mug carefully and softly.

"I know how that can be..." Steve looked up to catch Harry's sorrowful green eyes. "The man who hunted my parents? Like I said, he was head of a terrorist cell. And his near death did nothing to dissuade the vengeful attentions of his minions. So, from the age of eleven I was thrown into the middle of a long and bloody civil war, one from before I had even been born. So many good people died, and until recently, I could see the lists of the dead and their faces when I closed my eyes. It's gotten slightly better, I'm slowly moving on from the guilt." Steve's face shifted into an expression of confusion. "Ah, sorry. I was the figurehead of sorts because the rebound of his attack when I was a child had led them to believe I was some kind of saviour." He just about spat the word. "So I was at the forefront of the fighting and eventually ended the old man's psychotic agenda myself." Harry merely shrugged and sipped his own tea absently. While he had left out any specific information, retelling his story was nothing new to him. He finished his tea and set down the mug.

"I should probably get you that book then, eh?" He grinned at the very comfortable, and slightly sleepy looking, Steve. Who only blinked back at him blearily, brain slowly catching up.

"Uh... right! Sorry, lose my train of thought there for a moment."

Harry turned with the index card in one hand and glanced quickly from side to side, orienting himself. He strode back into the store and Steve hurried after him, his mug still full of barely steaming tea. Harry turned into an aisle and looked around, up and down, before releasing another 'ahah!' followed by a soft puff of air and a groan.

"What is it?"

Harry pointed upwards and Steve's neck craned as he followed the digit.

"Top left corner, wedged between those two hardback Encyclopaedias." Harry grumbled the words out, obviously not pleased with his choice of resting spot for the novel. But he was a stubborn man, and he would be damned before he went back on his decision to have Steve enjoy that book.

"Wow..." Steve glanced down and took in Harry's fuming expression. He knew he shouldn't have, but he felt his face split in a grin all the same. The impression he got from the petite brunette's anger was that of a mildly annoyed chipmunk that had absent mindedly stashed its favourite snack in a now very inconvenient place. It had probably seemed like a good idea at the time; foresight being twenty-twenty and all that. The much taller man hastily wiped the grin from his lips as Harry's gaze turned to him.

"Apparently you're in for a treat: I'll have to climb up there to get the bloody thing."

"You're kidding, don't you have a ladder or something?"

"Nope... Not counting the one that's buried in the basement. But as far as I'm concerned I'm safer scaling these shelves than trusting that deathtrap." Harry sighed and then grumbled, oblivious for the stifled laughter of the bigger man.

"I'm taller than you, let me get it –." Steve began to offer, only to be cut off by a glaring Harry.

"Not a chance! My store, my job!" He therein grumbled about freakishly tall brutes and something about vegetables.

Steve could only step back with his hands in the air and watch as Harry toed off his sneakers to reveal slim, cute toes.

Sidenote that I forgot in the last chapter! :D I did in fact forget that ladder from the first chapter (oops). That will be addressed in the following chapter. I realized there were a few mistakes in spacing and I've gone back to fix those. Apparently moving from Google Drive to Word isn't as easy as I thought…According t the ff net word counter, i'm missing something like 500 words in the transition... QQ

Sorry for the long wait folks, aside from a lack of motivation to type any of this (I've been slowly writing the chapter in a notebook between class and two jobs), other things got in the way.

→ i.e. the snuggly Steve Rogers-esque boyfriend I'm now sporting. Here's hoping I won't need to come back and edit this part out; he's too awesome to let go!

Random props to ashrk95 for being the first to review Chapter 3! That first review is something I look forward to with each new chapter posted. I always hope to read some suggestions or questions. I'll continue this habit of calling out first reviewers with each chapter, and maybe even reply to a few if you have questions I can answer. Feel free to message me! Chapter 5 is already written out! :D