Steve
Steve was not a fan of Hydra, okay?
Setting aside the whole Bucky thing (though that was obviously a problem), they were just so goddamn stubborn. They were supposed to die out in World War Two. Instead they take over SHIELD. Now they've been exposed and broken up again, except they're still running around killing and kidnapping people (Steve had destroyed five punching bags when Natasha had been taken to the hospital after her attempted kidnapping).
That stubbornness was the reason Steve was in this problem right now. He'd gone into a small apartment building to meet with a contact who had a lead on Bucky. Steve had gone alone, out of uniform, without his shield. He was trying to go incognito, and the guy was trusted (actually trusted) by Natasha. It should have been safe.
Or not. By the time Steve got there, the man was dead and there were fifty Hydra agents in the building swarming him. Not even Steve could take on that many unarmed. So after bashing a few heads, he jumped out the window. Six stories up, but thanks to the serum he didn't die or break any bones. It still hurt like a bitch.
By now people were screaming and calling 911 due to the heavy gunfire. Steve ducked for cover behind a dumpster, right by a convenience store. There were a few unmarked vans parked nearby, a dozen more agents coming out. Steve growled in frustration. He was trapped.
Steve pulled out his phone. The Tower was on speed dial. Tony was the one who answered. "That was fast. Need a jet to get to your long-lost boyfriend, Cap?"
"I need the Avengers here now!" Steve shouted over the gunfire.
That caught Tony's attention. "I've got your location. Hang tight, Cap."
Steve ducked as a bullet got a little too close. He put the phone away and tried to find a way out of this.
The sniper who'd gotten close was suddenly gone.
Steve frowned, poking his head out. The man had simply...vanished.
Five agents came around the corner of the store, guns aimed at Steve. "Stand down, Captain," one of them ordered.
"Wow, really?" a voice called, before Steve could respond. "This guy's kicked your collective asses, what, twice now? I know they say the third time's the charm, but he's got the Avengers now, with local police in the area. What exactly made you think this was a good idea?"
Spider-Man was perched on the roof of the store.
One of the agents spoke into a radio, "We have a second hostile on the store. Use lethal--"
Spider-Man jumped. So did Steve.
Together, they took out the agents in seconds. Steve pulled the rifle from one of their hands and knocked him out with an elbow. "We've gotta go!"
"Hope you've got an iron stomach, Cap." Spider-Man grabbed Steve's arm and leaped into the air.
They'd swung down two blocks before Spider-Man realized he had extra baggage. "Why are you carrying him?"
Steve held the unconscious Hydra agent with his free hand. "We're questioning him."
"Well, don't drop him!"
"I wasn't planning on it!"
They saw Iron Man streaming by over head, then stop and do a 180. Spider-Man swung them up onto the roof of one of the smaller buildings in downtown Manhattan. Steve dropped the agent onto the floor just as he was coming to.
"Aw, come on, Spidey, I had dibs," Tony complained, landing on the roof.
"Well, develop your own Spidey-sense, and this won't happen," came the reply.
"Spidey sense?" Steve echoed.
Spider-Man shrugged. "It's...kind of hard to describe. You ever see The Sixth Sense?"
"You see dead people?"
"No, but it's like an extra sense that tells me something bad's going to happen. Like, dangerous bad. Not 'there's heavy traffic today' bad or 'your girlfriend's gonna dump you' bad, which would've been nice..."
"Well then what's the point?" Tony asked. He pointed to the agent. "We taking him to Nat?"
"You know, I think that's one of the guys that tried to kidnap her..." Spider-Man commented.
"I'm not sure whether I should tell her that, but if I deem the situation necessary, then I shall." Tony grabbed the man by the collar and hoisted him over his shoulder. "By the way, Spidey, you should probably get those ribs taped up."
"Creeper!" Spider-Man accused as Tony flew off. "Just because that helmet gives you x-ray vision doesn't mean you should use it!"
Steve gave him a second look and realized he was favoring his left side. "Was that during the fight?"
"Uh...it was during a fight," Spider-Man said.
"How long ago?"
"Last night," he confessed. "Stupid drug dealer with a baseball bat. But it's fine; you have super-healing, so you get it. It'll be all patched up in a few days."
"Not if you keep swinging around the city carrying people, it won't," Steve countered.
"Well, I'm not taking the bus."
Steve sighed. Maybe the reason he'd hesitated to talk with Spider-Man or invite him onto more team missions to feel him out as a potential Avenger was because he already recognized too much of himself in the young man. An inclination to get hurt combined with a stubborn streak a mile wide...good God, was this how Bucky had felt all the time?
Remembering how well Spider-Man had responded to the idea of going to SHIELD medical after the Dr. Mad fiasco, Steve tried a different tactic: "Well, if your healing abilities are similar to mine, you'll heal faster on a full stomach. Let's go."
"Uh...go?" Spider-Man asked, watching Steve walking to the door of the roof that'd lead them to the stairs.
"There's a burger place on this block I've been meaning to try. My treat. Come on."
Spider-Man hesitated. "Cap, if this is some weird way of saying 'thank you,' you don't have to--"
"It is and it isn't," Steve said. "I am grateful you stepped in, and even more grateful for stepping in to help my teammates when they've needed it. But beyond that, we are two superheroes with the same goals in mind who live in the same city. I figure it's time we get to know each other, don't you?"
Spider-Man tipped his head at him. Then, "Did you just come on to me?"
Steve made a face. "You are worse than Stark, you know that?"
"And prettier," he added, finally following Steve. "You know, it'd be faster if we--"
"No."
"Fine," he sighed.
Steve looked at Spider-Man out of the corner of his eye as they walked down the hall of the office building (getting some very strange looks), toward the elevators. "You grew up poor, didn't you?"
"Huh?" Spider-Man asked, an edge of panic to his voice.
"You're reluctant to accept any gifts or means of payment even if you've earned it, even from people who are well-off. Tony's offered to give you some tech at least a dozen times and you always turn him down, and you almost never accept anything from the people you've saved. You're definitely not rich, as you've pointed out yourself several times, so chances are good you grew up around poor people and feel guilty about taking anything from anyone even if it's freely given, because that means you're depriving them of a piece of their livelihood."
Spider-Man stared at him. "Did the serum give you psychic powers? If so, I'm thinking of a number between one and ten."
"Seven," Steve guessed. "And no. I grew up in the Depression."
"Point. It was eight. Spider, remember?"
"Ah." The elevator arrived. They got in. "So why the mask?"
"I'm a sucker for attention," Spider-Man replied.
"Nope. Try again."
Spider-Man looked at him, then sighed. "Do you know if I have a girlfriend?"
"No," Steve said.
"Where my parents are?"
"No."
"Any idea of where to find my friends and family and, say, use them against me as hostages, or hurt them to hurt me because I stuck you in jail for stealing a car?"
"No," Steve conceded.
"There you go." Spider-Man paused. "Plus, all this vigilante stuff is kind of illegal, so..."
Steve shook his head as they got out of the elevator, but he was grinning. "Far, far worse than Tony."