Running away didn’t seem like the smartest thing to do.
Running away with Steve, his newfound old best friend, and your birdman best friend seemed like an even less smart idea. It seemed even less smart when you had to cram in the small blue car with the three huge men.
You knew why you did it though. You couldn’t let Sam get dragged into this thing without you, because you always had each other’s backs. Besides, anything Steve Rogers had planned couldn’t be too bad, right? Steve, with his bright blue eyes and whip-smart brain and sharp humor and dazzling smile.
Point is, it was better than getting locked up in federal prison. Probably. You were pretty sure.
You’d almost convinced yourself, but the idea seemed plain stupid when Steve pulled you over in the middle of nowhere.
“Steve,” you started, alarmed, “why’re we stopping?”
“Just gotta make a quick pit stop,” the man said, opening the door and squeezing his way out of the car, miraculously not bumping his head on his way out.
You opened your mouth to complain about how super-soldier-hood should make a man be able to hold it and not go to the bathroom at least until you’d be completely far from the city and not just barely out of the outskirts of it, but you snapped it shut when you leaned to look through the front window to see a sleek black car parked in front of you, a blonde woman leaving it and walking towards Steve. Sharon Carter.
They talked for a few moments, their voices too quiet for your ears to pick up on what they’re saying, but Bucky next to you clearly could, leaning forward a bit in interest.
“Can you move your seat up?” he asked Sam in a gruff voice.
Sam, who sat in the seat in front of Bucky, answered curtly. “No.”
Bucky let out a breath, moving a bit towards the middle seat, in your direction, so he could see Steve and Sharon better.
You leaned towards him a little as well, looking just in time to see Steve leaning forward, locking eyes with Sharon for a brief moment before he closed the distance between them, kissing her, his hands holding her waist while hers rested on the back of his head.
For a moment, time seemed to freeze.
When they broke apart, it moved again, and you broke out of your trance-like state just in time to avert Steve’s eyes when he turned to look at your car when Sharon went into hers. You barely managed to avert his gaze, your eyes meeting for a split second before you turned your gaze to Sam, who was also not looking at Steve, but looking back at you.
His eyes conveyed genuine concern, concern you couldn’t face right now, so you averted your eyes from his, looking at the seat instead.
“Isn’t that Peggy’s niece?” Bucky said in a low voice, the first one to break the silence.
“Yes,” you and Sam answered in unison.
You looked over at Bucky to find him frowning slightly, but no one could say anything else, because Steve just entered the car again, this time predictably knocking his head. You’d lie if you said it didn’t make you feel a tiny bit better. Poetic justice.
Steve cleared his throat awkwardly, and once he saw none of you would say anything, he got the car started again, driving away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were glad Tony and Steve managed to settle their differences in the end. You really, really were. It’s what’s best for the team, for the world as well.
But seeing Sharon and Steve glued to at the hip around the compound made you want to run away anyway. Being happy for someone was pretty damn hard when you’d liked that someone and they were dating someone who’s not you.
To their credit, they did try to tone down the PDA. After the time Tony caught them making out in the compound pool.
But as luck would have it, they were two people who worked in a field where they knew every day was unpredictable, and both of them are attractive as hell, so you couldn’t exactly be mad about it or anything.
Not that you ever had anything to be mad about. They didn’t do it on purpose, it wasn’t anyone’s fault you bumped into them sometimes. Whenever they were around others, they were always respectful and kept all the boundaries.
Even if just their subtle lovesick looks of the sight of their hands laced together, or his arm around her, made your stomach twist, you couldn’t be mad about it, because you never actually dated Steve.
When Steve and Natasha came over to ask Sam for his help, you happened to be in his house as well, having gone with him on his morning run.
“So,” you panted, mid-run, “you called me over to run with you at ass-o'clock in the morning because you thought you’d run into Captain America again?”
“Figured it wouldn’t hurt my rep with him if he saw me running with a pretty girl,” he grinned at you.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Wilson,” you said, though a grin of your own spread on your face, “never wake me up to go on a run again or I’ll call up your darling of a sister and tell her you’re taking advantage of me.”
“Please don’t,” he groaned, chuckling. “C'mon, don’t you wanna meet Captain America?”
“Sure,” you said, “if I believed you’d actually met him maybe I’d be less grumpy about this run. But dammit, I don’t think I ran this long since we both enlisted and they’d take us on those drills,” you reminisced, trying to distract yourself from the slight pain forming in your side. You were in good shape, great shape even, but you two have been running around Washington for over an hour now.
“Hey! I met him alright,” Sam objected.
“Of course you have. I’m sure his hair was moving in the wind in slow motion as he came to sweep you off your feet as well,” you teased.
“Whatever,” he grumbled, “let’s go to mine, I’ll get you breakfast. Because, unlike other people, I’m a great friend.”
“Oh, Sammie, I’m glad you finally accepted Captain America isn’t your boyfriend!”
Oh, but the joke was on you, because, when five minutes after you got to Sam’s place, Steve Rogers knocked on his door, you totally wished he’d be your boyfriend.
As a figure of speech, at first. He was just his public image to you, the polite and handsome man who also fought to protect this country.
When Sam offered his help, showing Steve and Natasha the wings, you glared at him when they weren’t looking, trying to silently tell him that this was maybe something he shouldn’t get involved in.
But he just didn’t look at you and continued to talk to Steve and Natasha. Captain America and the Black widow. Who were sitting in Sam’s living room. Who Sam was going to follow into battle. And you, obviously. No way Sam was going to do this alone, not when you were every bit a part of the wingsuits project as he was. As Riley was. You’re not going to lose each other, you and Sam. You wouldn’t let it happen.
Getting to know Steve Rogers was certainly an interesting experience.
You learned a bit about his childhood from the jokes he’d make, things that weren’t in the museums or on the internet. You watched him adapt to the modern world more and more. When Bucky was saved, you got to hear even more of their origins. Some of the stories Bucky told you left you laughing so hard tears escaped your eyes.
At first, you wondered what it would’ve been like to have known Steve back then. Skinny, fiery, artistic, protective Steve. But you’ve realized that’s the Steve you know today. The only difference is, he’s not so skinny and sickly anymore.
And while his physique certainly didn’t hurt, you’d wanted to get closer to Steve because he was kind in a world that hasn’t shown him much kindness over the years, because he was still trying to do the right thing after being wronged so many times. To you, that was more heroic than any shield-throwing or ass-kicking his body enabled him to do now. Really, how could anyone in their right mind not fall a little bit in love when they saw Steve’s passion, Steve’s smile?
You didn’t know if he knew and was trying to spare your feelings, or just didn’t notice the way you looked at him, because, according to Sam, and later Bucky who joined in on his teasing, you couldn’t have been more obvious. Either way, nothing ever came of it, and you and Steve remained teammates. Good teammates, but just teammates.
You couldn’t be mad at Steve or Sharon, so that left you to wallow in self pity instead.
But Sam and Bucky definitely didn’t share the same qualms as you had, doing nothing to hide their anger at Steve from said man, who, bless his oblivious brain, didn’t really get why they were clenching their jaws in silence all the way to the airport on that fateful car ride.
Sam and Bucky would do everything in their power to try and distract you from Steve and Sharon. Often, when you had a particularly boring meeting and Sharon would practically sit in Steve’s lap, one of them would play tic-tac-toe with you, or have a secret thumb war. Other times, when you were all hanging out or at breakfast, they’d make sure you never sat alone, so your gaze wouldn’t wander over, and one of them would come to sit and chat with you. It was never suffocating, their worry, and you appreciated it.
It didn’t help that much. You still noticed Steve and Sharon, and it still made a certain bitterness come up in you. But it was nice to know you had someone to look out for you.
One such time was when Tony threw another one of his fancy galas, but this time you couldn’t even complain, since it was for charity and not just for good PR. You never liked these things that much, having to smile at strangers the entire night, show a united front with all your teammates. In general, just being in the large ballrooms, you felt the weight of countless expectations on your shoulders, knowing that some of the people that would come up and talk to you, even for a few minutes, might remember it and tell it to their friends and families and associates, and you couldn’t come off as anything other than perfect so you wouldn’t disappoint them.
Sam and Bucky actually did help a lot with that. Bucky shared the same apprehension about the general wealthy public you had, so you two stuck together for most of the night. Sam, meanwhile, was a social butterfly, always friendly and charming everyone, which came particularly in handy in charity galas where you wanted the guests to give you money. But he obviously came to check on you multiple times, sometimes introducing you to some of the nicer people so you could actually do your job here.
Tonight, you desperately needed their help though.
Earlier that day, you’d just gotten back from a mission you had with Steve, Sharon, and Natasha. Now, you loved Natasha, but she wasn’t as good a conversationalist as Sam or even Bucky, mostly keeping to herself and going over the mission plans, which made absolute sense because she’d be the first to infiltrate, prepping the ground for you three to follow, so things could stay more discreet. So, you weren’t mad she was doing her job or anything, but it would be nice to have some distraction from The Golden Couple in front of you.
Steve and Sharon were murmuring to each other the entire flight, sitting close together, smiling, and god, they’ve been dating for like half a year, when is their honeymoon phase gonna end?
When you all waited for Natasha to give you the all-clear, they at least made an effort to talk to you as well, about the mission at first, and then it turned really awkward when you talked about the weather, of all things. You wanted to scream.
Thankfully, it didn’t take too long after that awful turn in the conversation for Natasha to tell you to go in. Even when doing their jobs, Steve and Sharon were by each other’s side constantly. Couple goals.
On the way home, when you could think freely again, you couldn’t help reminisce about how open Steve’s been before he and Sharon started dating. How he wanted everyone to feel welcome, made sure everyone was heard. Maybe it was just your bitter self, but it looked like he lost some of that, or at least directed it only at his girlfriend. You didn’t know if there was anyone to blame for that, but it still stung.
Safe to say, you were not in the mood for socializing that evening. But it was, as you kept reminding yourself, for a good cause. So you put on a pretty dress, some makeup, and the best smile you could muster.
You haven’t had the chance to see either Sam or Bucky since you got back, so when they immediately spotted you in the crowd they both made their way over to you, checking on you.
“You okay?” Sam asked.
“Not even a scratch,” you gave him your best grin, which probably looked more like a grimace than anything.
“That’s not all I asked.”
“I’ll be alright, Sam. Thanks,” you said, letting out a breath and giving him a small, tired smile, genuine this time.
“You sure?” Bucky asked, reaching to hold onto your arm gently.
“Yeah,” you nodded at him gratefully. “C'mon,” you chuckled, “let’s go woo some civilians.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bucky wasn’t ecstatic when he realized Steve was dating Peggy’s niece. Like, that's… weird. He obviously couldn’t tell what was going on in Steve’s head or heart, they haven’t been that close for about, what, eighty years?
But to him, it seemed like Steve was still clinging on to a past long gone. Even if Sharon wasn’t from the past like him and Steve, it felt like Steve’s trying to pick things up from where he left them, which is impossible, because Sharon isn’t Peggy, and they’re in the future.
He became even more opposed to the relationship when he figured out Steve had a much better option all along – you.
When you were all in that tiny blue car, Bucky saw the glint of sadness in your eyes. He saw you blinking it away to the rest of your ability. That’s when he suspected.
His first week in the compound after that whole mess was… confusing. Steve wasn’t always there to explain every technological advancement, and even though Bucky hasn’t been in the ice, it was still hard to get a grip on all the little gadgets Stark provided.
But you were there to make sure he got the hang of things. Sam too, and you both teased him good-naturedly about it, helping him adjust nonetheless.
One night, when Bucky couldn’t sleep, the memories in his head too jumbled and loud, he made his way outside to get some air. He went to one of the balconies, where you happened to be sitting and seemingly looking up at the night sky.
You jumped when he opened the glass door leading outside, your head whipping backward to look at him. He barely managed to get a glimpse of your face, cheeks glistening with the shining of the moonlight on your tear tracks, before you turned back, wiping your face.
“Hi Bucky,” you whispered, not looking at him.
“Hi.”
The silence of the night around you provided a good antithesis to his brain, so he got a chair and sat down beside you. For a while, neither of you said anything else.
“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked suddenly.
“Yeah. What about you?”
“Something along those lines.”
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
“Are you?” you shot back calmly.
You both went back inside some time after that. You got closer, over the last few months. Months in which he realized his initial suspicion was indeed true. You never talked about it, but he figured out there was some… potential between the two of you, but it never came to be anything, because then Sharon swooped it.
And even though Bucky didn’t see you that way, both because you were simply too good of a friend to him and Sam would cut his head off, he still thought Steve was making a mistake.
Even if Steve truly loved Sharon, he could’ve at least been less blatant about it in public.
Bucky watched from the corner of the ballroom in which he was standing with you, as Steve and Sharon stood side by side, her draped over his arm, laughing obnoxiously at something he said, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
He averted his eyes back to you, only to find you mindlessly swirling your drink around your cup, looking exactly at Steve and Sharon.
“Hey,” he nudged your arm with his elbow, making you look at him instead. “Check out that lady on your nine.”
You looked over to see an old lady holding some food above her handbag. You frowned in confusion before it turned into a wide grin when a white fur-covered little head took the food right out of her hand.
“Oh my god,” you struggled to contain your laughter, all of your previous thoughts melting away. You turned back to look at Bucky. “No way.”
“Alas, yes way,” he grinned back at you.
“I can’t believe she brought her dog to a charity gala!” you giggled.
“This isn’t even a dog charity,” Bucky agreed, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Imagine if the guy she’s sitting next to is allergic. He’s gonna start getting red and his eyes are gonna water, and he’s going to think that no, surely, it can’t be a-” Bucky’s laugh cut off his own words, “a dog!”
You both started laughing, trying to keep quiet enough as to not warrant any unwanted attention.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steve’s super-soldier hearing picked up on the sound of Bucky laughing. Curious as to what caused the unusual event, he turned his head to locate Bucky standing in a far corner of the room, laughing with you. He watched as you leaned forward in laughter, resting your hand on Bucky’s bicep. Huh.
He tried to focus on the conversation he was having again, but found that he couldn’t, instead letting Sharon keep it up and trying to nod and smile in the right places while his brain ran around in circles.
Were you and Bucky… a thing?
Sure, maybe he’s been a little too busy lately to properly talk to Bucky, but he’d still tell him if you two were together, right?
Steve continued to turn the question over in his head for the rest of the night, Sharon even calling him out on being so out of it.
“I’m just a little tired,” he smiled, trying to shake it off.
“Yeah, we shouldn’t have agreed to come to this thing right after the mission,” Sharon smiled sympathetically. “Sit down, keep a low profile for a bit. I’ll go make some rounds and get you something to drink, alright?”
“Thank you,” he leaned over to press a kiss to her temple, and she smiled up at him before disappearing back into the crowd.
Steve couldn’t sit down, too restless still, so he opted for standing against the wall, letting his eyes roam across the large ballroom.
After a moment, he found Bucky and you again, just when Bucky was taking off his suit jacket and giving it to you. You tucked it around your shoulders and smiled at him in thanks, mumbling something even he couldn’t hear, but apparently, Bucky did, giving you a bright grin.
He can’t let himself assume. It was probably nothing. Right?
Continuing their journey, his eyes then landed on Sharon, who was predictably near the bar, and unpredictably raking her eyes over some guy in a suit. What was that all about?
Whatever. Steve must just be too tired after the mission. No way everyone in the room was suddenly magically flirting with each other.
He just needed some sleep, that’s all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steve was right about one thing, at least.
“Seriously, Steve?” Bucky frowned. “Now?”
“Look, if you are I know it’s none of my business because you’re both adults and I trust you to do what’s best for the team, but I-”
“No, that’s not- it’s not like that between us,” Bucky chuckled dryly, “at all. I love her like a sister. But now’s the time you choose to pull your head outta your ass?”
“I was just asking a question, I- when was my head in my ass anyway?”
“Oh god, it’s still there,” Bucky muttered. “All I can tell you is that we’re definitely not together, alright?”
“Alright! That’s what I asked!” Steve huffed.
Steve went out of that conversation with more questions than answers, but at least he got the one answer he wanted; you and Bucky weren’t together. He was pleased. For the sake of the team, of course, just because you never know how these things can turn out.
Which brings us to the thing he was wrong about.
Ever since he noticed it the first time at Tony’s ball/gala/charity/whatever the hell it was, suddenly Steve couldn’t stop noticing Sharon flirting with other men.
It was everywhere – the other S.H.I.E.L.D agents, the cashier at the supermarket, a civilian they just saved – Sharon never missed an opportunity to shoot her shot, smiling, flipping her hair or sending a wink. At first, Steve thought it was harmless, maybe she was trying to make them feel better, or just being friendly because she liked the attention.
But when, one day, he caught her typing her number into their waiter’s phone when she said she ‘was just gonna run to the bathroom’, that’s when he finally realized it couldn’t be either.
He broke up with her when they got home from the restaurant. She left the compound the next day.
Through it all, Steve’s been… surprisingly numb. He thought he loved Sharon, but in hindsight, it didn’t seem all that much like love at all. It looked like nostalgia wrapped with a pretty bow.
It wasn’t Sharon’s fault, not really. He shouldn’t blame her for not being fully invested in their relationship when, inadvertently, he was doing the same. It was never natural with Sharon, now that he thinks about it. Peggy would probably shoot him again if she knew, too. Justifiably.
So what did he have left to do but sit in his room and mope about it?
“Steve,” Sam’s exasperated voice came to him from the other side of the door, “I know you’re in there. C'mon man, let’s go for a run or something. I’ll even let you win this time around.”
Steve let out a quiet chuckle before caving and yelling out to him. “No thanks, Sam. I’m asleep.”
“Asleep my ass, get up and open this door!”
Begrudgingly, Steve lifted himself off his bed, where he was laying in some leggings and a t-shirt, having already showered after his run earlier that morning, or later the previous night depending on how you look at it, and opened the door.
Sam immediately let himself in Steve’s room, sitting down on his bed, where Steve was already seated.
“C'mon man,” Sam nudged his shoulder against Steve’s, “this isn’t like you.”
“I thought I was a better judge of character than that,” Steve sighed, “I can’t believe it took me so long to figure it out. I mean, the first time I even noticed her flirting with someone else was at Tony’s gala, what, a month ago? But I just figured I was just imagining it. I mean, I had another wrong assumption about that night, so I figured I was just tired and chucked the two together.”
“Yeah, Buck told me about that,” Sam chuckled.
“I figured. He also said something about getting my head out of my ass, which I really didn’t get.”
“Seriously?” Sam laughed. “He said that?”
“What’s that about?”
“You really can’t figure it out?”
Steve shook his head, and Sam let out another chuckle.
“Alright. So, you went to Bucky and asked him about flirting with her. So he probably thought you’d finally realized you two have… potential.”
“What?”
“C'mon Steve, you know what I’m talking about. Don’t try to act coy or whatever. You two were always sorta flirting before you got together with Sharon.”
“What?” Steve repeated, his voice higher-pitched now. “No, we weren’t!”
“Really? So back when we left you unsupervised outside that business building with a big parking lot, you weren’t flirting?”
It was a bit after you two had met. Sam had volunteered to check the perimeter with Natasha, leaving you and Steve to watch the entrance of the building you were entering.
“So, does Captain America always steal cars?” you asked, lifting your sunglasses-covered eyes to watch him smile.
“Steve Rogers borrows them when he has to.”
“Gotcha. Didn’t peg you for such a bad boy,” you teased, leaning back against the wall.
“What can I say, I’m dark and mysterious,” he winked, making you let out a chuckle.
“Color me surprised. I gotta say, from everything I’ve heard about you, you sound like kind of a nerd.”
“Ouch.”
“Aw, in a good way! I mean, I know you’re a hero or whatever, but you sounded like a little art nerd in the 20’s.”
“That’s probably accurate,” he admitted with a smile.
“Well then, Steven,” you lowered your sunglasses and glared at him above them, “why are you going around stealing cars?”
You both laughed, and when it subsided, Steve reached to fix your glasses, pushing them back up your nose. And then Sam and Natasha returned, telling them they should get a move on inside.
“Huh.” Steve swallowed dryly. “Guess I didn’t really… think of it that way.”
But he remembered now. In hindsight, he really should’ve known there was more there than just friendship. Maybe he even knew but just didn’t admit it to himself.
“Steve,” you called out after him when he left the meeting. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I just… I gotta go,” he gestured towards the elevators, but as he turned his back to you, he felt your hand grabbing his wrist, turning him around again.
“If it’s the accords, you’re not alone in this, Steve. I think you’re right.”
Steve stood there, looking into your eyes, hands still connected. He couldn’t help but blurt it out, the words swimming around in his head ever since he got that text two minutes ago.
“She’s dead,” his voice broke, “Peggy’s dead.”
“Oh, Steve,” you sighed in sympathy, moving slowly towards him. When you saw he didn’t back away, you wrapped your arms around him, comforting him, “I’m so sorry. I know how much she meant to you.”
Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing tight, the feeling grounding him a little.
“Do you want me to go with you?” you asked softly.
“No, it’s fine,” he mumbled, starting to detach himself from you, “you should go back in there anyway.”
“Okay,” you nodded.
When, after the funeral, you came to find him standing alone in the empty church, he didn’t resist when you took his hand in yours, gently urging him to step outside. His eyes were red from crying, but he didn’t care that you saw him like this. He knew you didn’t care either, that you wouldn’t think less of him, wouldn’t think he’s weak.
As if hearing his thoughts, you whispered. “You’re really strong, Steve. For going through this. But you don’t have to do it alone.” You squeezed his hand shortly before letting it go.
“I mean, I can buy that you were oblivious to your own feelings,” Sam chuckled, “and I don’t really care about that. But you hurt hers.”
“So you think I can’t make things right?”
“I think you shouldn’t. At least not now. Buck will have your head if you do.”
Steve let out a morbid chuckle. “And you?”
“I know her better than anyone,” Sam replied, “and I know she can kick your ass on her own. Doesn’t mean I won’t help her though.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ever since his talk with Sam, Steve started noticing things.
Like how your hair reflected the sun a little. How your eyes lit up when you were excited, and how they filled up with tears when, one movie night, you all watched The Notebook. How graceful you were, how you smiled at children and strangers who looked at you on the streets. How kind you were.
And it wasn’t really like he was learning these things about you, he was just constantly reminded of them. Reminded he knows them, has known them all along, but he was, as usual, too late.
One night, he couldn’t sleep again, so he went for a run. When he got back, he went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Out of habit, he turned on the light, jumping when he found Bucky sitting at the table with a plate of pie.
“Buck?”
“Ow, that’s bright,” Bucky squinted, “what’d you do that for? We don’t need that!”
He was right, Steve could’ve probably seen just fine without the light.
“Out of habit! What are you even doing here?”
“Having a snack, duh. What are you doing here?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Steve sighed, moving to the counter to grab a glass and fill it. “So I went on a run.”
“Is that your solution to everything? Running?”
Bucky said it lightheartedly enough so it almost seemed like he was joking. Almost. Steve knew exactly what he was talking about.
He sighed. “I mean, I’ve been told by Sam if I tried to do just about anything else you’d kill me, so do I have any options?”
“You could at least apologize.”
“Yeah, for what?”
“For what happened.”
“For what happened? My own foolishness made me lose the one person who actually cared about me. How did I not realize that sooner?”
Bucky was quiet, looking down at his plate, then expectantly up at Steve. “I mean, it’s my fault,” Steve continued, “I know it is. But how would bringing it up make it better?”
"First of all, you’re dumb. Second of all, just tell her the truth. Tell her you’re dumb and sorry. It’d help settle things between you.”
Steve chuckled. “I guess. But, I don’t know. It feels fine between us now. I don’t wanna fuck that up.”
“Language,” Bucky deadpanned, taking another bite of the pie, “And you’ve already fucked up, so might as well fix that.”
“I know,” Steve sighed, “I know.”
“So you will?”
“When I find the words,” Steve sent him a tired smile, before putting the glass in the sink and going back up to his room. He couldn’t sleep, but in the jumble of his thoughts, he did find the words.
Or, well. Maybe something better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Uh, Natasha?” you knocked hesitantly on the office door.
“Yeah?” she looked up from her papers, “What’s up?”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, it’s just, have you seen Steve? I can’t find him and I need him to sign this for me,” you waved the mission report you were holding.
“Isn’t he in his office?”
“Nope, not in the gym as well.”
“Oh, well, have you tried his 'studio’?” she chuckled. When she saw you only frowned at her words, she smiled. “Just before the door to the roof, there’s another door to your left. He might be there.”
“Alright,” you nodded slowly, “thanks!”
When she was sure you were out of earshot, Natasha let out a little laugh.
You made your way according to her instructions, arriving at the door you hadn’t noticed before. You knocked on it gently.
“Steve?” you called out, “are you there?”
You heard a couple of faint banging sounds before the door opened to reveal a haphazard Steve, frowning, although it turned into a small grin when he saw you.
“Um, hi,” he said.
“Hi,” you grinned, “Natasha said I might find you here. She said it was your studio, do you…” your eyes took in the apron he was wearing and the little flecks of color in his hair, one on his cheek. “…paint?” you completed the question.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I do. You needed something?”
“Oh, yes, I didn’t uh, mean to interrupt, I just need your signature on this,” you showed him the mission report you were holding.
“Sure, let me just,” he gestured at the room behind him, turning back, “get a pen,” he mumbled.
Since he left the door open, you followed him into the room.
“There’s gotta be a pen around here some-” Steve turned to find you staring at the painting he was working on in awe. “-where,” he finished weakly, gulping. “that’s, um, that’s-”
“Steve, that’s beautiful,” you said softly, your eyes full of emotion.
The painting in front of you presented a man, standing in darkness. It showed mostly his back, and he was holding onto a woman’s hand. The woman’s face was also not shown, just her back, but she was holding onto the man’s hand, guiding him into light. The way Steve presented it, it was almost impossible to tell whether the light was coming from the woman or outside of her. But as you looked at the picture, it became clear who the man and the woman were; you and Steve. It was the clothed you both wore that day at Peggy’s funeral.
“It’s not entirely finished,” Steve said.
“Steve, that’s amazing,” you chuckled in awe, “I didn’t even know you drew. And even if I did, I wouldn’t think you’d draw… this.”
“Well,” he said, and you looked at him, “no other woman has made me feel this way,” he shook his head before gazing sincerely into your eyes, “so I thought I’d try and put it onto canvas. As an apology.”
Immediately, like seven questions popped up in your head. “An apology?” you managed to utter, “for what?”
“For not realizing sooner, how things between us should be. For going after a past I couldn’t really have anymore instead of living my present. For being stupid, basically,” he chuckled awkwardly.
“You’re not stupid, Steve. I mean, I get what you did. I wasn’t happy about it, but I got it. Maybe if I were you, I would’ve done the same,” you admitted in a small voice, “I’m not all that worth it.”
“No, hey,” he swiftly moved to put his arms on yours. “You’re incredible. It’s my fault I didn’t see it sooner, but you are. You have this… this light to you, this energy. You’re captivating,” he said softly, almost whispering. “and I hope you accept my apology for not doing something about this sooner.”
“So,” you took a breath, “this is you doing something about it?”
Slowly, you were inching closer and closer to each other. “I mean, this is me apologizing. Sam and Bucky would kill me if I tried anything more. They wanna protect you,” he chuckled.
“They don’t have to know,” you whispered.
His hands moved to surround your waist now, pulling you in closer and closer, and you leaned in until your forehead touched, your breaths mingling together, before one of you closed the distance, and you were kissing. Your hands came up around his neck, while, one of his cupped your cheek.
When you broke apart, his thumb rubbed your cheekbone slowly.
“But Steve,” you said, keeping your voice from wavering, “I’m giving you a chance. I haven’t forgiven you yet, and if I feel I’m the second option, or the rebound, I’m gonna-”
“I know,” he smiled. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
And okay, you never felt more worthy, more wanted or loved, than when you were with Steve.
When Sam caught the two of you making out in Steve’s studio about two months later, he muttered, “Fucking finally,” and closed the door behind him immediately.
You and Steve exchanged an amused look, but you couldn’t say anything before Sam yelled out, “oh, and Buck’s gonna hear about this!”
Steve’s look turned fearful, and you laughed. “Don’t worry Stevie, I’ll protect you.”
A few months after that, you finally forgave Steve. When you told him, he hugged you, lifting you and spinning you in a circle, making you laugh.
The truth is, you were Steve’s future, and he was yours. You both knew that now.