Work Text:
Steve loves his job, even though it had changed a bit over the years. He used to work from home, in his little studio apartment, cramped and cold and great.
Now though, he worked in a huge loft space, wall to wall windows – great light at all times of the day, every possible need and whim catered to. Longer hours. Better pay. Much better pay.
His crappy apartment was sold and he bought a place in the newly refurbished meatpacking district, spent months re-designing the empty space – modern, sleek but with a vintage edge, his home was actually used on the webpage to show what Stark, Banner & Rogers could do, their architectural elements combined with the genius of Potts Interiors (owned by Starks long suffering but apparently very happy wife, Pepper) it was a great example, warm and homey. The dog helped.
Cap, who had been a gift from Stark one year because Stark had absolutely no idea what actual responsibility was, had been a tiny, wriggly puppy with an adorable little black mask over his eyes and Steve had fallen instantly in love. Stark took this to mean that he was the best at giving gifts, and Bruce now had a cat called ‘Hulk’ who was the sweetest, most adorable ball of fluff – unless you petted him wrong and then you may lose a limb to his tiny but sharp claws.
But Cap, Cap was the best. However, the tiny, wriggly puppy soon grew into a full sized Husky and Steve’s long hours had become a massive problem. Cap needed exercise. Cap needed a lot of exercise, and Steve, who ran for an hour and a half every morning and an hour when he got back from work, was worried that Cap wasn’t getting the care he needed.
“Seriously, why do you need another refrigerator unit?” Tony asked, as Steve trawled the net for something the size he needed. “The one you have is huge.”
“The one I have is for people food, Tony.” Steve said, for the 3rd time since he’d mentioned it. “I need another for Cap.”
“You don’t put kibble in a fridge.”
“He’s on a raw food diet, Stark.” Steve repeated. “The raw food part really should be giving it away as to why I need another unit.”
“You feed it meat?”
“Husky dogs, and other sled breeds, actually do better with a raw diet considering their natural environment.” Bruce said, from where he was working. His work was mostly theoretical – designs that were stunning but improbable, Tony worked out new ways to make it work, often inventing brand new methods (and rather famously, a whole new alloy) in the industry, and it was Steve’s job to actually take both parts and make it possible to build. Mostly, he spent a lot of time explaining to Tony that regular builders and contractors don’t have PHD’s or Master’s in theoretical physics and he really needs to stop expecting them to work things out to the .1mm on his designs.
“Seems a lot of work for a dog.” Tony said, rolling his eyes and his chair away from Steve.
“The dog you bought me.” Steve pointed out without malice. He may have been a lot of work, but Steve adored his dog. “And he needs more exercise. I’m worried he’s spending all day in the house. It’s not good for him.”
“You take him out in the morning and at night, don’t you?” Bruce said, not looking up from his lightbox. “I’m sure he’s getting enough time. You run with him?”
“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “But it was okay when he was smaller, you know? He’d be sacked out as soon as we got back, but now he’s older, he’s still bounding around the house – he needs more that I can give him now, and…” He waved his hand around the room. They had hired a few other people, Thor, a genius in woodwork and his tiny girlfriend Jane who worked closely with Steve most days, helping him keep Tony and Bruce from building floating homes and underwater towers. Parker and Lewis worked the mail and the phone, while on the other side of the massive room Pepper and her team (Natasha, Clint and Phil) kept Potts Interiors going strong. But they were always busy, and the hours were always too long, and although Steve loved his job, he worried about his dog.
“Why don’t you get a walker?” Darcy Lewis said, handing him his mail for the day. Mostly they worked with emails, but Steve liked letters, liked a physical copy of things.
The first dog walker had a lot of clients. She could take Cap out at around 2pm for an hour and bring him back. Steve wasn’t sure about the other dogs she took though. Cap had gone through training (Bruce had been thoughtful enough to double up on Tony’s gift with lessons to a puppy training school, and Pepper had extended this to include an agility & obedience training) and he was good with other pets (following kitten Hulk around had earned him a small thin scar over his nose, but he’d just whined – no lashing out) but the idea that he’d be kept on a leash with ‘up to’ 8 other dogs was a worry. How was he going to get the correct amount of exercise if she had to set her pace to smaller dogs?
Three weeks and 4 walkers and Steve still couldn’t find anyone he trusted to give Cap what he needed.
“I’ve got a friend.” Natasha said, one morning as she walked past Steve’s desk and saw the directory for walkers tab on his laptop. “He’s just gotten out of the army.”
Steve smiled. “That’s great. You planning on meeting up with him? Get a few drinks?” Natasha never shared much personal information. In fact, Steve was pretty sure this was the first time that she’d ever started a conversation in the four years they’d worked in the same office.
“He’s got a dog like yours.” She said, sounding long suffering and a lot like she thought Steve was a moron. “Husky. Called Winter. Huge thing.” She grimaced. “Gets hair everywhere.”
Steve laughed. “Ah, yeah, you need to brush them a lot. Probably easier to vacuum them.”
“He walks Winter in the afternoon. He could take Cap too.”
“That sounds good, if you give me his number I’ll-”
“I’ll tell him to pick Cap up tomorrow. Give me your keys.”
Three weeks later, Steve had to admit that Natasha’s friend James was a godsend. They’d never met, and Natasha never talked about him again, but every day when he got home, Cap was sacked out on his dog bed (a huge raised platform that Steve built to match the couch) and didn’t even lift his head when Steve walked in.
His night run was enough to have Cap settled when they got back, rather than leaving him bouncing around the apartment while Steve tried to sleep. Sometimes James would leave a post-it note on the counter for Steve. “Winter has the vet at noon, will pick Cap up at 2 instead of 1.” Or something along those lines, but that was the limit of their communication. The money Steve left on the counter to pay James for his time was always left, and when he brought it up with Natasha she rolled her eyes and told him to keep his money.
“I think Cap loves the walker more than he loves me.” Steve admitted to Sam. Sam worked at the VA, and Steve met him when Cap was a puppy and Sam’s chocolate lab Falcon was recovering from being spayed. Her cone of shame was new and exciting for puppy Cap and the owners had become friends. He was probably Steve’s best friend, and the dogs loved each other. Falcon older and wiser, kept Cap in line.
Sam just laughed at him, a wide grin that lit up his whole face. “Cap loves everyone.” He pointed out. “Seriously, he’s a marshmallow.”
Said marshmallow was currently trying to crawl under Falcon as she slept, burrowing his nose under her head and waving his butt from left to right. Sam’s apartment was much smaller than Steve’s, with the two dogs and the both of them; it was a pretty crowded living room. “Did I tell you I saw him out the other day?” He said, “At the park?”
“No.” Steve said, trying to sit up a little straighter. Sam’s couch was made for lounging, Steve was sure it was trying to eat him.
“I meant to say, man, sorry.” He grinned. “I think the dude thought I was trying to steal Cap or something. One moment Cap was slobbering all over me and the next thing this huge fucking wolf is growling at my balls, and I’m pretty sure the owner is about to knife me.” He paused. “Obviously Falcon broke the ice,” He said.
“What’s he like?” Steve asked, because Natasha just rolled her eyes and walked away when Steve asked her.
“I dunno, man.” Sam said. “Dark hair tied back, leather jacket. Jeans. Boots… his dog is huge though. Almost twice the size of Falcon, but trained like… wow.” Sam paused. “He might be a service dog, would explain the training. Cap obviously likes him.” He added. “Although I’m not sure if the mutt of yours loves anyone better than he loves you.”
Steve picked up Cap’s food once a week, huge hunks of meat on the bone that filled his 2nd unit up and had Cap sitting to attention every time Steve walked past that side of the room, a hopeful expression on his face. He wasn’t the only person with a raw diet pet, and he’d gotten used to seeing the same people on his trips, Cap sitting outside the butcher – eyes watching Steve’s every move through window. The bones were his favourite, and Steve sometimes would let him carry one home in his mouth – it was only a few blocks and he thought maybe it helped Cap feel like he was bringing home ‘prey’.
One day though, Cap started barking outside and Steve panicked. Dog snatching wasn’t common but he’d read all about it, and Cap was a pure-bred pedigree (because Tony obviously had to get the ‘best’ dog on the market) so he abandoned his place in the line and dove out of the door.
Cap was bouncing on his paws, excited but trained well enough that he wasn’t bolting off, eyes fixed on a black and grey Husky with what were the meanest eyebrow markings Steve had seen outside of a cartoon. He was reminded sharply of the bully dog in ‘Balto’.
“Can it, Cap.” A male voice said, and… oh.
“I think I may have drooled on the dog walker.” He admitted to Sam as they ate chilli and watched TV on the large screen in Steve’s open plan apartment, they’d made a deal that Steve would watch Game of Thrones if Sam would watch Cake Boss and so far it was working out okay. “Jesus, I was like an awkward teenager.”
“Steve, you’re like 6’2 and 250lbs, I’m pretty sure you’re the exact opposite of an awkward teenager.” Sam pointed out, before reaching for his beer. “What did he say anyway?”
“Well, he saw me and he was like… So you’re Steve then? And I said, yeah, and then he just nodded and walked away.” Steve paused. “Cap was gutted. He loves the walker more than he loves me. He wouldn’t even carry his bone home, just kept looking back like he expected James to show up.”
“Steve, I’m sure th-”
“He loves the walker more than he loves me.” Steve repeated. “Because James takes him on longer walks and he gets to play with Winter and I’m always so busy that I can’t do much but try to tire him out. I’m a bad parent.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Sam pointed out.
“I know. It doesn’t stop me from feeling like crap though.”
“James said he saw you.” Natasha said, appearing at Steve’s drafting table like a ghost. She was holding a folder with swatches of fabric. She looked like she’d be more at home with a knife in her hands. “At the butcher.”
“Ah, yeah.” Steve said, nodding. “He was with his dog.”
He waited for Natasha to say something else, anything at all, but she just nodded, and walked away – leaving Steve utterly lost. She had that effect on him.
The next day, he got a picture message from Sam. He was in the park with Falcon and Cap, one arm around each dog, Winter sitting beside Cap, tongues out mid pant. James must have taken the picture.
‘Man, I wish I worked all day, and missed out on these walks.’ He added in a text message. Followed by a winking face.
‘Screw you, Wilson.’ He shot back. The sun was shining outside, bright and warm and the perfect day for walks in the park with his dog. No wonder Cap loved James more.
He printed the picture out though, and stuck it on his fridge. He had a lot of pictures of Cap and Falcon stuck on the fridge, hell, he even had a nice framed picture of Cap on the mantle of the fake fireplace after he’d passed his puppy training. He looked like he was smiling and it was Steve’s favourite picture of his dog.
“See?” He told Cap, as he stuck the picture on the fridge. “I’m not jealous that you love James more, because I am an adult.” He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach when at the mention of James’ name – Cap perked up, ears forward and eyes bright. “I love you more than he does.” He pointed out. "I'm the one that feeds you, damnit!"
James didn’t pick Cap up for walks at the weekend, Steve did work, but he left before noon and always took Cap for an extended walk. He woke up on Sunday though, and just couldn’t drag himself to the office. The sun was already starting to work its way into the sky and Steve knew anything at the office could wait until Monday.
‘Taking Cap for a walk. Wont be in today.’ He text Tony and Bruce. Tony never worked weekends, because Pepper put her foot down and insisted that they do ‘couple things’ that apparently consisted of Tony taking Pep to art galleries and wineries. Bruce seemed to live at the office, only taking time off every couple of months to go to his yoga retreat.
Steve didn’t feel bad for not going in. ‘Taking the truck.’
The ‘truck’ was a black flatbed pick-up with the company logo on the side. Steve was the only one who ever used it, because Tony refused to drive anything that wasn’t a sports car and Bruce refused to drive in New York at all because it was bad for his temper, so Steve had been keeping it in the underground garage in his building. Cap loved the truck, because even when he was clipped in safely, he could still get his head out of the window and slobber through the wind.
Steve packed a rucksack with everything he’d need for a longer walk, a couple bottles of water for him and a couple of Cap, a collapsible dish and a few strips of dried beef as a treat, and a sandwich for himself.
Cap picked up his favourite toy, obviously sensing that today was a long walk day, his red white and blue Frisbee that Steve had been trying to teach his tricks with. He carried it in his mouth all the way to the car and dropped it on the seat beside him when Steve clipped him in to the doggy safety harness in the back seat.
The drive took longer because everyone seemed to have the same idea to get out of the city, but once Steve was on the road the miles fell away. Tony and Bruce had text him back to let him know that they didn’t expect him in, and when he arrived at the reserve, Cap was wagging his tail so hard Steve thought he might actually take off.
They walked a few miles before Steve took the Frisbee from Cap and started throwing it over the meadow. The grass was long enough that he was mostly lost, visible when he sprang up, a white and grey blur.
Steve grinned when Cap brought the Frisbee back, and gave it his best throw – only to watch another dog on the opposite side of the meadow take off after it too. Steve had obviously kept Cap off the leash for this game of catch, and he regretted it now – the other dog may be dangerous, or even feral, and Cap was too excited chasing his toy to pay Steve’s call for return much attention.
However, it wasn’t Cap who brought the Frisbee back, tail wagging like mad – but Winter.
“Well, hey you.” Steve said, looking around and not seeing any one else in the meadow. “You don’t look like my dog.” He added, because, sue him, Steve talked to his dog like a person, okay?
Winter picked up the Frisbee again and dropped it as his feet, dancing excitedly on his paws, tail wagging like his butt was gonna fall off. “I can take a hint.” He said, and picked up the disc.
He managed to get four good throws in, Cap and Winter almost flying after the blue and red disc, when James appeared a few feet away, out of breath and bursting through the tree line. He was wearing a pair of jeans (not to tight, but tight enough to give Steve dry mouth) and a soft looking black hoodie. He wore a baseball cap, but Steve recognised him instantly and half waved.
He saw Steve before he saw the dogs, and his whole body seemed to relax. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He panted, resting his hand on his knee and doubling over to get air. “I thought he’d been lifted.”
Winter, who’d obviously sensed James’ appearance, returned with the most hangdog expression on his face that Steve had ever seen, Frisbee dripping with slobber and grass. “Don’t even bother.” James said, directly to the dog. “You know how much trouble you’re in right now.”
Cap, who knew he wasn’t in trouble, was wagging his tail and hopping around the clearing like this was the best moment of his doggy life.
“I think my dog loves you more that he loves me,” Steve said, with a resigned sigh. “I thought a bribe of Frisbee would work.”
James snorted at that and nodded towards Winter, still holding the Frisbee in his mouth. “Traitor there would happily come live with you for throwing that thing.” He paused. “My sister’s kids ruined him when I was overseas; he thinks every ball or toy thrown is meant for him.” He glared at the dog. “He’s supposed to know better than to run off.” The last two words were almost growled at the dog, which looked as sheepish as a dog with evil eyebrows could. Cap was still dancing on the spot. “Although I guess maybe he saw Cap, so I can’t really blame him.”
Steve threw the disc until his arm hurt, and then broke out the water for the dogs. James had brought his own pack, almost identical to Steve’s, right down to the rye and pastrami sandwich.
“I just wanted to say thanks for taking Cap out through the day, James.” Steve said, breaking the silence. Both dogs were lying on their backs, panting from the water and the exercise, and Steve, cross legged and leaning against a tree was surprisingly comfortable.
“Don’t mention it. And don’t call me James – only my mother and Tash call me James. Bucky.” James shrugged. Although he only had the one arm, he didn’t seem to let that bother him, managing just as well as Steve with all the tasks he’d done. “Tash said you needed it, and Winter spent a long time as the only dog around when I was deployed, so he needed to get used to being with other animals again. My sister’s great, but she kept him away from other dogs and he was getting territorial.”
With a big breed like that, Steve knew bad habits needed to be nipped in the bud. “I took Cap to training for that.” He admitted. “I didn’t know the first thing about dogs when I got him.”
“What made you think a Husky was the best started pet?” James asked, looking at Steve like he’d lost his mind.
“I didn’t. Guy at my work thought I was lonely and took it upon himself to ‘cure’ sad Steve.” He nodded at Cap. “He got me a puppy, without thinking that cute puppies don’t stay that size – and by the time I realised how much work I had in for me…”
“You’d gone and gotten attached.” James guessed.
“Yup.” Steve shrugged. “It was okay until we expanded, and then my hours got longer and Cap was stuck in the apartment all day.” He glanced over at Bucky, who was incredibly attractive lounging against a tree stump, bottle of water in his hand, foot resting against Winter.
“How’d you get Winter?”
“I stole him.” James said, not even bothering to look guilty. He’d obviously seen Steve’s expression, because he laughed. “It’s not as dramatic as it sounds.” He smiled. “Ex-boyfriend got him as a pup, and I caught him trying to ‘train’ him for fighting. Fucking dog fighting.” He spat.
“Jesus,” Steve said, looking at Winter lolling in the sunlight. He looked mean (evil eyebrows and all) but he’d been nothing but a great dog from what Steve had seen. “What did you do?”
“Well, first of all, I beat the ever-loving shit out of him, and then I called the cops.” He nudged Winter with his foot and laughed as the dog wriggled happily at the attention. “They wanted to put him down, but I told them he was mine, and Brock wasn’t saying much on account of his broken jaw.” Steve found himself grinning like an idiot at James, because… yeah, that was a good story. “So I stole him.” He grinned at Steve, and Steve grinned back and he thought maybe, just maybe, the ex-boyfriend was a nice hint.
“I didn’t get anything from my last ex-boyfriend but a warm sweater and a hangover.”
“Is that the case?” Bucky grinned, and Steve found himself grinning back.
“Got a text from Steve.” Bruce said, calling over the room to Tony who was complaining loudly that he’d had to come into work over the weekend. He wasn’t working, Pepper had forgotten her purse and had sent him in to get it. “They’re taking the dogs to the beach instead.”
“It’s below freezing!” Tony yelled from where he was crawling under Peppers station, purse just out of his reach.
“I think the whole point of Alaskan sledding dogs is that they don’t care about the snow.” Bruce grinned.
Steve’s station was neat and tidy, and a framed picture was the only personal touch. Everyone agreed that having the dogs as groomsmen was the cutest thing ever, and the framed picture of Steve and Bucky exchanging rings with the dogs at their sides always got a positive reaction when people walked past.