Wrote this on the train today! (On my phone, so I very much apologize for typos) Captain America - Steve Rogers centric, with a suggestion of Steve/Bucky and Bucky/Nat - All birthday parties were starting to look the same: all the teenage guests cramming into someone's bedroom, passing bottles of beer with hushed voices and giggles. Steve was really hoping Bucky's fifteenth birthday would be more creative, but here he was, tangled cross-legged on the hardwood floor in Bucky's attic bedroom holding an unopened bottle of Smirnoff ice someone had shoved at him.
“You don't have to drink that bitch beer,” Bucky said, but Steve shook his head.
He wasn't going to drink, but people asked fewer questions if he had something in his hands. He'd learned that at Clint’s birthday a few months ago.
This time Natasha brought vodka, which was new. Something nice she'd nicked from her aunt's liquor cabinet. The way she told the story made her sound like an action hero, disabling booby traps and dodging security cameras, and it made Bucky look at her with big, cow eyes like he'd volunteer for the role of damsel in distress.
Puberty - Steve understood. He was a little behind, and everyone could tell. They forgave him for it. For being short and clumsy, and having to ask why tossing a salad was dirty. Natasha said she couldn't wait for the day Steve finally got with the program. She had a list of girls and guys ready to throw at him the day he took an interest.
Tony was less delicate. “I bet you'll be one of those crazy ones in college. No way holding it in this long is healthy. One day you'll explode and have sex with everything.” “I'm not holding anything in,” Steve said. “I do jerk off.”
That just made it worse. Steve missed the days when he could argue politics with Tony instead of sex.
“This'll blow over,” Bucky promised.
But what did he know? There were rumors of Bucky charming the pants off half the school, and Bucky never denied it.
“Is your mom going to be pissed about all the drunk teenagers in her attic?” Steve asked as Bucky smacked the bitch beer against the window sill, deftly removing the cap.
It was fuming lightly when Bucky handed it back. Steve took a sniff and wrinkled his nose.
“No,” Bucky said. “She knows we've been sneaking around her punch ever Christmas. Are you sure you want this? You strike me as more of a dark beer guy.”
“I'm not gonna drink it anyway. Probably wouldn't play nice with my meds.”
“Pretty smart wasting this shit, then,” Bucky said with a wink, because winking was a new thing he was trying to perfect.
He looked like an idiot, and Steve told him so.
“Good, that's just what I was going for,” Bucky told him, and winked again.
“Okay,” Natasha voice cut across the room. “I've got the first empty bottle of the night, so you know what time it is.”
“Please say Truth or Dare,” Steve said.
The room groaned collectively - all the teenagers and some of the furniture.
“We've been playing that since we were six,” Clint said.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “And Tony and Nat always pick dare, Bucky always picks truth, and you, Steve, have been banned from dares because of that time you almost died.”
“I broke my leg,” Steve corrected.
And the teenagers and the furniture chorused back, “you almost died!”
“Okay, so truth or dare is out,” Bucky said in his big brother voice. “Who wants to kiss me?”
“Everyone, obviously,” Natasha said.
She set the bottle down on the floor and everyone scooted into a circle, like planets in orbit.
“Steve, you're playing, right?” Bucky said.
He gestured to the empty spot he'd left in the circle, and Steve joined him, rolling his eyes. At least it was was a good excuse to abandon his drink on the window sill. He settled in between Bucky and Bruce and watched Natasha take the first spin.
“Shouldn't the birthday boy go first?” Bucky asked.
The glass bottled clattered against the floor, drooling out the last drops of Coors, and Steve felt his heart race in terror as it slowed in his direction. The bottle made a last awkward slide, and stopped in front of Bucky.
“Well,” Natasha said, “Looks like you're going second.”
She and Bucky leaned into the sentence of the circle, meeting in the middle like a bridge. Everyone whooped and cheered, but Natasha’s silky red hair swung in a curtain across her face, and Steve couldn't see their lips touch. He didn't want to; he didn't care.
When Bucky pulled back and gave him a dreamy-eyed grin with a purplish lipstick stain on his skin, Steve didn't care. He was going to make it through this without kissing anyone by sheer dumb luck alone.
“Wipe that shit off.” Steve gave him a shove, definitely not smiling at the dumb look of injury Bucky threw back.
“You're supposed to kiss it off, Steve, that's the point of the game,” Bucky said. He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically, drunk on stolen vodka or kisses, or some other forbidden thing Steve couldn't reach.
Steve watched Bucky twirl the bottle, his fingers hovering over it for a moment, as if trying to direct its target. It wasn't as elegant as Natasha’s spin; the neck of the bottle smacked the floor as it wobbled to a stop, and Steve looked down to realize it was pointed straight at him.
“Oh, ha-ha,” he said. Because it was ridiculous. No one could actually expect them to do this.
“Well?” Natasha prompted.
Steve shrugged. “Just let him try again.”
Clint got a wolfish sort of grin that looked a little eerie on his baby face. “No way - that's against the rules.”
“There's an exception for people who were in diapers together, dumbass,” Sam said, elbowing him into silence.
“You can back out if you want.” Bucky shrugged, like kissing Steve wouldn't phase him one bit.
Natasha eyed them from across the circle.
“When has Steve ever backed out of anything?” She asked, sounding like a proud squire at a joust. Steve wasn't sure how she could defend his honor and taunt him at the same time.“If you don't want to kiss him, Barnes, just say so.”
Bucky looked a little dumbstruck for a moment - almost as much as Steve - but he recovered with a shrug and a smile.
“I happen to like kissing,” he said.
He shrugged again in Steve's direction, which felt like a personal affront to Steve's racing heartbeat. There was no way Steve was getting out of this without needing his inhaler, and Bucky was staring at him blandly, like kissing each other wouldn't mean more than a hug.
They kissed on the lips when they were little kids. When they were three and their moms thought it was cute. This wasn't cute.
Steve shrugged back. “Don't blame me if you don't like my kissing,” he said.
Bucky shrugged again. One shrug too many, Steve thought. Maybe he was nervous - but he leaned out and brushed his lips against Steve's anyway, pulling away before Steve even had time to close his eyes.
“Boring!” Clint shouted.
“That's just rude, James!” Natasha laughed. “I kissed you for a solid minute.”
“Yeah, you're the one who wanted me to play.”
Steve heard the words escape his own mouth and still wasn't completely sure he'd said them. He didn’t want to pick a fight with Bucky, especially not over kissing, but he was running on adrenaline. If fighting was his default setting, no wonder he never wanted to kiss anyone. Punching was easier.
“Fine,” Bucky said.
Another shrug, Steve noticed, and he was biting his lip.
Bucky moved in slowly this time, making a show of it and reaching out to cup Steve's jaw before their lips met. His hands were soft - his lips were softer.
Steve shut his eyes and tried to focus on all the sensations separately. Bucky’s palm was a little clammy against Steve's cheek, and he seemed more nervous up close. He pressed in closer, mashing their lips together, but Steve felt like his own mouth was made of stone - all hard teeth and chapped skin.
“You can do better than that!” A voice called - probably Clint.
Natasha added, “Quit slacking, Barnes!”
The noise Bucky made was just an irritated groan in the back of his throat, but Steve could feel it buzzing between their lips. If it was going to take some theatrics to make their friends stop jeering at them like circus animals, Steve could step it up.
He grabbed Bucky by the collar of his henley. It would look good, even if Steve had no idea what to do next. A couple voiced cheered them on as Steve yanked Bucky forward, and he would have been satisfied, but Bucky pitched off balance, grabbing Steve's arms and slotting their mouths together with a gasp.
Applause broke out, and Steve’s own lips parted in surprised. It did something to the kiss - transformed it into something out of the movies. Steve knew, with a spark of pride, that this was more than Bucky and Nat had kissed. This was something else. It was a little wet. Maybe it wasn't the kind of thing they could laugh off the next morning.
Still, he was the reason they were cheering. If you could win kissing, Steve had won.
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timeasmymeasure
Rising to a Challenge
Date: 2016-01-15 08:54 pm (UTC)Captain America - Steve Rogers centric, with a suggestion of Steve/Bucky and Bucky/Nat
-
All birthday parties were starting to look the same: all the teenage guests cramming into someone's bedroom, passing bottles of beer with hushed voices and giggles. Steve was really hoping Bucky's fifteenth birthday would be more creative, but here he was, tangled cross-legged on the hardwood floor in Bucky's attic bedroom holding an unopened bottle of Smirnoff ice someone had shoved at him.
“You don't have to drink that bitch beer,” Bucky said, but Steve shook his head.
He wasn't going to drink, but people asked fewer questions if he had something in his hands. He'd learned that at Clint’s birthday a few months ago.
This time Natasha brought vodka, which was new. Something nice she'd nicked from her aunt's liquor cabinet. The way she told the story made her sound like an action hero, disabling booby traps and dodging security cameras, and it made Bucky look at her with big, cow eyes like he'd volunteer for the role of damsel in distress.
Puberty - Steve understood. He was a little behind, and everyone could tell. They forgave him for it. For being short and clumsy, and having to ask why tossing a salad was dirty. Natasha said she couldn't wait for the day Steve finally got with the program. She had a list of girls and guys ready to throw at him the day he took an interest.
Tony was less delicate. “I bet you'll be one of those crazy ones in college. No way holding it in this long is healthy. One day you'll explode and have sex with everything.”
“I'm not holding anything in,” Steve said. “I do jerk off.”
That just made it worse. Steve missed the days when he could argue politics with Tony instead of sex.
“This'll blow over,” Bucky promised.
But what did he know? There were rumors of Bucky charming the pants off half the school, and Bucky never denied it.
“Is your mom going to be pissed about all the drunk teenagers in her attic?” Steve asked as Bucky smacked the bitch beer against the window sill, deftly removing the cap.
It was fuming lightly when Bucky handed it back. Steve took a sniff and wrinkled his nose.
“No,” Bucky said. “She knows we've been sneaking around her punch ever Christmas. Are you sure you want this? You strike me as more of a dark beer guy.”
“I'm not gonna drink it anyway. Probably wouldn't play nice with my meds.”
“Pretty smart wasting this shit, then,” Bucky said with a wink, because winking was a new thing he was trying to perfect.
He looked like an idiot, and Steve told him so.
“Good, that's just what I was going for,” Bucky told him, and winked again.
“Okay,” Natasha voice cut across the room. “I've got the first empty bottle of the night, so you know what time it is.”
“Please say Truth or Dare,” Steve said.
The room groaned collectively - all the teenagers and some of the furniture.
“We've been playing that since we were six,” Clint said.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “And Tony and Nat always pick dare, Bucky always picks truth, and you, Steve, have been banned from dares because of that time you almost died.”
“I broke my leg,” Steve corrected.
And the teenagers and the furniture chorused back, “you almost died!”
“Okay, so truth or dare is out,” Bucky said in his big brother voice. “Who wants to kiss me?”
“Everyone, obviously,” Natasha said.
She set the bottle down on the floor and everyone scooted into a circle, like planets in orbit.
“Steve, you're playing, right?” Bucky said.
He gestured to the empty spot he'd left in the circle, and Steve joined him, rolling his eyes. At least it was was a good excuse to abandon his drink on the window sill. He settled in between Bucky and Bruce and watched Natasha take the first spin.
“Shouldn't the birthday boy go first?” Bucky asked.
The glass bottled clattered against the floor, drooling out the last drops of Coors, and Steve felt his heart race in terror as it slowed in his direction. The bottle made a last awkward slide, and stopped in front of Bucky.
“Well,” Natasha said, “Looks like you're going second.”
She and Bucky leaned into the sentence of the circle, meeting in the middle like a bridge. Everyone whooped and cheered, but Natasha’s silky red hair swung in a curtain across her face, and Steve couldn't see their lips touch. He didn't want to; he didn't care.
When Bucky pulled back and gave him a dreamy-eyed grin with a purplish lipstick stain on his skin, Steve didn't care. He was going to make it through this without kissing anyone by sheer dumb luck alone.
“Wipe that shit off.” Steve gave him a shove, definitely not smiling at the dumb look of injury Bucky threw back.
“You're supposed to kiss it off, Steve, that's the point of the game,” Bucky said. He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically, drunk on stolen vodka or kisses, or some other forbidden thing Steve couldn't reach.
Steve watched Bucky twirl the bottle, his fingers hovering over it for a moment, as if trying to direct its target. It wasn't as elegant as Natasha’s spin; the neck of the bottle smacked the floor as it wobbled to a stop, and Steve looked down to realize it was pointed straight at him.
“Oh, ha-ha,” he said. Because it was ridiculous. No one could actually expect them to do this.
“Well?” Natasha prompted.
Steve shrugged. “Just let him try again.”
Clint got a wolfish sort of grin that looked a little eerie on his baby face. “No way - that's against the rules.”
“There's an exception for people who were in diapers together, dumbass,” Sam said, elbowing him into silence.
“You can back out if you want.” Bucky shrugged, like kissing Steve wouldn't phase him one bit.
Natasha eyed them from across the circle.
“When has Steve ever backed out of anything?” She asked, sounding like a proud squire at a joust. Steve wasn't sure how she could defend his honor and taunt him at the same time.“If you don't want to kiss him, Barnes, just say so.”
Bucky looked a little dumbstruck for a moment - almost as much as Steve - but he recovered with a shrug and a smile.
“I happen to like kissing,” he said.
He shrugged again in Steve's direction, which felt like a personal affront to Steve's racing heartbeat. There was no way Steve was getting out of this without needing his inhaler, and Bucky was staring at him blandly, like kissing each other wouldn't mean more than a hug.
They kissed on the lips when they were little kids. When they were three and their moms thought it was cute. This wasn't cute.
Steve shrugged back. “Don't blame me if you don't like my kissing,” he said.
Bucky shrugged again. One shrug too many, Steve thought. Maybe he was nervous - but he leaned out and brushed his lips against Steve's anyway, pulling away before Steve even had time to close his eyes.
“Boring!” Clint shouted.
“That's just rude, James!” Natasha laughed. “I kissed you for a solid minute.”
“Yeah, you're the one who wanted me to play.”
Steve heard the words escape his own mouth and still wasn't completely sure he'd said them. He didn’t want to pick a fight with Bucky, especially not over kissing, but he was running on adrenaline. If fighting was his default setting, no wonder he never wanted to kiss anyone. Punching was easier.
“Fine,” Bucky said.
Another shrug, Steve noticed, and he was biting his lip.
Bucky moved in slowly this time, making a show of it and reaching out to cup Steve's jaw before their lips met. His hands were soft - his lips were softer.
Steve shut his eyes and tried to focus on all the sensations separately. Bucky’s palm was a little clammy against Steve's cheek, and he seemed more nervous up close. He pressed in closer, mashing their lips together, but Steve felt like his own mouth was made of stone - all hard teeth and chapped skin.
“You can do better than that!” A voice called - probably Clint.
Natasha added, “Quit slacking, Barnes!”
The noise Bucky made was just an irritated groan in the back of his throat, but Steve could feel it buzzing between their lips. If it was going to take some theatrics to make their friends stop jeering at them like circus animals, Steve could step it up.
He grabbed Bucky by the collar of his henley. It would look good, even if Steve had no idea what to do next. A couple voiced cheered them on as Steve yanked Bucky forward, and he would have been satisfied, but Bucky pitched off balance, grabbing Steve's arms and slotting their mouths together with a gasp.
Applause broke out, and Steve’s own lips parted in surprised. It did something to the kiss - transformed it into something out of the movies. Steve knew, with a spark of pride, that this was more than Bucky and Nat had kissed. This was something else. It was a little wet. Maybe it wasn't the kind of thing they could laugh off the next morning.
Still, he was the reason they were cheering. If you could win kissing, Steve had won.