Archive of Our Own

Steve felt entirely overdressed as he dodged out of the way of another rowdy couple of kids and headed to the bar. He was really regretting agreeing to come out for a night on the town with Sam, but it was either that or agree to spend the night pretending he wasn’t dying inside at another one of Tony’s big company parties. Steve let out a sigh as he slumped onto the a spare barstool. He threw a look over his shoulder and scoffed as he saw Sam leading a curvy blonde out of the bar without a backwards glance. So much for Steve’s ride home.

“Looks like your wingman left ya high and dry.” An amused voice sounded from in front of him and Steve turned to see you staring at him with a knowing grin on your face as you set another beer down in front of him. You’d been serving him and his buddy drinks all night and if you were being honest, you’d been waiting for the inevitable. Something about Mr. Blue-Eyes just didn’t seem interested in the offerings of the night.

Steve shook his head and took the beer gratefully. “You’ve got it all wrong.” He said. “I was his.”

Your smile got even wider. “Well in that case, top marks. A++.”

Steve chuckled and took a swig of his beer while you leaned against the shelves behind you casually.

Steve quirked an eyebrow at you when he noticed you weren’t leaving.

You shot a challenging one back at him.

“Don’t feel like you have to keep me company just on account of my friend ditching me.” He offered.

“That your polite way of saying you don’t want me staring at you anymore?” You teased.

Steve held his hands up in surrender. “Just don’t want you getting’ in trouble with the boss.”

“That won’t be a problem.” You promised him. You leaned towards him carefully, as if you were about to share the world’s biggest secret. Your lips practically brushed against his cheek as you whispered; “I am the boss.”

You pulled away, biting your bottom lip as it twisted itself up into a grin.

Steve had to resist the full-body shudder threatening to break loose. He quickly changed the subject. “Well… uh… it’s… a nice bar you have here. Very nice. Um… yeah.” He stammered, shifting on his barstool as he tried to fix his uncomfortable situation.

Your grin grew impossibly wide and your eyes twinkled like you knew exactly what he was trying to do. “Thanks. I like to think so. It’s been in the family for generations. I practically grew up tending bar.”

Steve cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Musta been some childhood.” He muttered. He reached for his beer and took a hasty swig – anything to keep his hands busy.

“Yeah… musta.” You trailed off, your eyes staring off into the distance over his shoulder. Steve sat there awkwardly for a few minutes, before you seemed to snap yourself out of your weird daze and turned your bright smile back on him. “So, Blue Eyes, I’ve been wanting to ask you all night… do I know you from somewhere?” Steve froze. It was a simple question, but it was also the reason he hated going out these days. Despite the hell and horrors he’d been forced to be a part of since he’d first agreed to take the serum seventy years ago, he couldn’t regret his choice. He’d done so much good, or, at least he’d tried to. He could be proud of that. It was the part that came with it, the fame and the glory; that part he would always despise. It made him uncomfortable when men and women fawned over him like he was god’s gift to mankind. Especially these days.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping just a little bit at the weight of the question, innocently posed or not.

He was always going to be a dancing monkey in a suit.

“I don’t think so.” He tried to hedge. “I don’t make it out to Brooklyn much these days.” He kept himself tense as he shuffled the empty beer bottle from hand to hand in front of him. You were going to realize he was Captain America in three… two… one…

You hummed and pulled a tray of glasses closer to you. You pulled a clean cloth out from under the bar and started wiping the annoying stains your water softener left on the glass. “But you’re from here, aren’t you? I can always spot a Brooklyn man.”

Steve peaked up at you hesitantly, a hint of tension bleeding out of his shoulders. “Yeah? How’s that?”

You shrugged a shoulder casually and picked up another glass to clean. “Brooklyn folks have this air about ‘em.  Most of us would give you the shirt off our backs if you were hurtin’ for it.” That damn trickster smile of yours started curling up your lips again and Steve found himself mesmerized by it. “But we aren’t afraid of takin’ the shirt off yours if you mess with ours.”

Steve’s laugh was ripped right out of him, and he startled himself at how loud and… genuine it was.

A few of the other patrons glared in his direction at the interruption to their nights but you just waved them away and shot Steve a grin. “Damn, Blue Eyes. I didn’t think you had that in you. Makes me wonder what kind of noise I could pull outta you somewhere more private.”

Steve blushed from his hair to his toes and curled in on himself just slightly.

You shook your head and plopped another beer in front of him. “Relax, grandpa. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

Steve grabbed the beer and drained it in one fell swoop. Alcohol didn’t have an effect on him these days, not much did, but he pretended like his life depended on it that it’d give him even a dose of liquid courage. He took a deep breath and looked you square in the eye. “They’re already on the floor.”

Time seemed to slow, and Steve’s heart stalled in his chest entirely as everything came to a stop all at once. In a scene straight out of the movies, the jukebox had chosen that moment to change songs and all the chatter in the bar had cut out almost simultaneously.

Steve’s face flushed a bright red again as it felt like every head in the bar turned to shoot him a look. Somewhere snickering, some looked impressed, a few of the drunker regulars made kissing noises and lewd gestures under the table where you couldn’t see them. They may have wanted to raze the new guy, but they knew better than to piss you off.

Steve’s fingers clenched around the beer bottle in his hands so hard, microcracks were forming in the glass as he kept himself frozen in his chair waiting for your response.

It felt like it took hours for you to finally process what he’d just said. Your eyebrows rose slowly, practically touching your hairline you were so taken aback.

Steve’s legs were twitching with the need to run when your eyes started twinkling. Their matching grin curled around your lips, and you leaned closer to him. “Do you want to get out of here?” You asked.

Like a rubber band snapping back, time seemed to catch up all at once. The jukebox started playing the opening bars of “Pretty Woman” and everyone turned back to their conversations, leaving you and Steve in a world of your own.

Steve didn’t hesitate to abandon his bottle and hold out his hand for you to take. “Absolutely.”

“I kid you not.” You said through tears of laughter as you clutched at your aching ribs. “Rich looked up Jimmy Pescadero who was towerin’ an easy ten inches or more over him and said; ‘The name’s Dick… Dick. Memorize it.’ And then, he reached into Jimmy’s front pocket, pulled out a wad of fifties and Jimmy’s pack of cigs and sauntered off like he owned the place.”

Steve was shaking his head, his own grin rivaling the Joker’s as he laughed along with you. “And Rich was how old?”

“We were eight.” You wheezed, desperately trying to catch your breath. “Jimmy was forty? Maybe forty-five? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a grown man look so shook before. I know I ain’t seen it since.”

Steve shook his head and folded his arms over his chest as he leaned against the brick wall of a nearby store and watched you try to pull yourself together. Your story had been funny, there was no doubt about it. He had a feeling he would have liked your friend Rich, but he knew he liked you. There was something about you that reminded him of… well… home.

You were somehow his favorite parts of the world he left behind and the world he’d come to know now all wrapped up into one and he didn’t want the night to end.

Oblivious to the direction his thoughts had turned, you finally managed to pull yourself together and you leaned against the wall beside him, looking out over the skyline as the last of the sun finally faded away. “Have you ever seen anythin’ prettier than the sunset over Brooklyn?” You breathed out, a different kind of smile on your face.

Steve couldn’t pry his eyes away from you if he wanted to. “Never.” He agreed, a husky inflection in his tone.

You bit your lip and turned your head to look at him. There was an electric current rolling softly over your skin and you just knew that this was it. This was the moment your life was changed forever.

The streetlights flickered on all around you, casting the both of you in a soft light as the city sounded around you, playing a sort of music only those born in it could understand. It felt like a magic spell had been cast over the both of you, and you didn’t stop to think, you just let it carry you away.

“Come on.” You whispered, reaching for Steve’s hand. “I want to show you something.”

Steve would have followed you to the ends of the earth in that moment. “Where are we going?” He asked, just as softly.

You just shook your head and shot him a secret smile over your shoulder.

The two of you walked in a comfortable silence, the magic of the night still swirling around you. It only took a few minutes to get to where you were going and by the time you got there, you were practically bouncing on your toes.

“Come on.” You encouraged, tugging Steve towards a dark alley. The bulb in the streetlight in front of it had been completely shattered, leaving nothing to help him see. A normal person might have been uncomfortable, but Steve hadn’t been normal for a long time. He hadn’t felt normal for a long time. You made him feel something he didn’t think was possible anymore and somehow? Well, somehow, he just didn’t see a killer in you. Still, though, he couldn’t let the opportunity pass without saying something.

“Gonna take me out back and shoot me, doll?” He teased. “I’m not that old.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that grandpa.” You chuckled. “But no. I’m not going to shoot you. I got something much better planned.”

Curious now, Steve let you lead him into the dark abyss. You only took a few steps into the darkness before you stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Wait right here.” Steve stopped obediently and waited as you scrambled for your phone in your pocket. The screen lit up, illuminating your beautiful face as you activated the flashlight on it. “Are you ready for this?” You asked, your eyes twinkling again as they met his.

Steve had to force the serious expression onto his face as he nodded obediently. “Ma’am, yes ma’am.” He saluted.

You chuckled and reached out for his hand again. You took it in yours and squeezed and then, you turned your flashlight until it was facing the wall in front of him.

 Steve’s blood froze to ice in his veins and the smile slipped off his face as he took in the brass plaque bolted to the bricks in front of him.

“Steve Rogers, hometown hero, went a few rounds here in 1943.”

A million thoughts and emotions rushed through his head and his heart as he read the words over and over, but the same thought kept coming back to him. “So you did recognize me.” He somehow whispered past the feeling of his heart cracking.

Always the monkey.

Always the fool.

You still had that damn smile on your face as you squeezed his hand again. “I knew it the second I saw those big blues of yours, Rogers.” Abruptly, you spun away from his side and moved in front of him. “It ain’t everyday you get to talk to a hero, you know.”

Steve swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and shot you a smile that was more of a grimace. “Always a pleasure to meet a fan.” He murmured, letting go of your hand and taking a step back.

In the dim light cast from your phone, your brow furrowed at the sudden distance he was putting between the two of you, but you didn’t understand. You were the closest thing to a real human connection he’d had in years. For the first time since Peggy he’d let himself hope that maybe…

Steve  shook his head, pushing aside that train of thought. He just… he just needed to end this… whatever it was, and get back to the tower. That was where he belonged. It’s the only place he belonged. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m sorry I don’t have any photographs with me. I normally carry some around for the fans. It was Stark’s idea, of course, but let me walk you back home… maybe you can print one off, if you have a printer that is. There’s a few circling online for a photoshoot I got roped into a few months back. I’m in the full uniform… most women seem to like those ones the best.”

Your brow furrowed even further in confusion and it was your turn to take a step back from the strange turn this conversation had taken. “Uniform?” You asked.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, the, uh, Cap’ uniform. The stars and stripes?”

It took you a second before it clicked. “Oh! You mean Captain America? The Avengers guy, yeah?”

“Uh… yeah. Isn’t that why you brought me to see…” Steve trailed off and gestured off towards the plaque that was buried in shadows once more.

You glanced over your shoulder as though just remembering why you’d dragged him into a dark alley in the first place and let out a sharp laugh before you turned to him. “No!” you chuckled, stepping closer to him. “No… I brought you here because you’re Steve Rogers.” You said that like it cleared everything up.

It didn’t.

“But I’m… I’m Captain America.” Steve pointed at his chest.

“So?” You chuckled.

Steve blinked at you.

You shook your head and reached out for his hand. Once again, you were in control as you led him out of the alley and back out onto the street. You walked a block before you fumbled with your phone and pointed your flashlight into that alley. A flash of a familiar plaque greeted Steve’s eyes, but before he could get a good look, you were pulling him towards another and then another and then another.

As you flashed your light over the last one and turned back to him, you tucked your phone away and stepped close enough to grab his hands. “Remember what I told you about Brooklyn boys?” You asked.

Steve nodded dumbly. “Most of us would give you the shirt off our backs if you were hurtin’ for it, but we aren’t afraid of takin’ the shirt off yours if you mess with ours.” He repeated.

You grinned and slid your hands up his arms until you wrapped them around the back of his neck. Instinctively, Steve reached down and wrapped his hands around your waist, keeping you steady as you peered up at him. “Ain’t no one more Brooklyn than a scrawny kid named Steve Rogers who got beat up in every alley from Brighton to Borough.” You leaned so close, your lips brushed against his as you spoke next. “Welcome back to Brooklyn, Blue Eyes. Feel like going for another round or two?”

A flash of that damned smile crossed your face and Steve’s entire world tilted on it’s axis. In that moment, everything changed, and he couldn’t stop himself as he surged forward and captured your lips with his own.

For the first time in seventy years, someone saw the real him.

You didn’t know it yet, but he’d been searching for you for years and now that he had you? He wasn’t ever lettin’ you go. After all, he was from Brooklyn and he’d fight for what was his.

You broke away from the kiss, panting for air and leaned your forehead against his. Somehow, and you weren’t sure how, you had ended up in Steve’s arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, your back digging painfully into the brass plaque commemorating yet another of Steve Rogers’ back alley fights.

“When I said go a few rounds, Rogers, I didn’t mean in a back alley.”

Steve chuckled breathlessly and leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Sorry, doll, I didn’t plan on this…”

You tugged on his hair until he was looking up at you with those piercing blue eyes of his and his lazy smile. “Good.” You said, leaning in to press a slow kiss to his lips. You broke away before he could drag you into anything more passionate and dragged your lips slowly down his neck as he groaned underneath you. When you weren’t sure you could take anymore, you reluctantly pulled away and pressed your lips against his ear. “Thought those knickers were supposed to be on the floor.”

In your head, Steve and Captain America would always be two different people. But that night, even you couldn’t help but admit that there were a few benefits to dating a man almost as fast as the Flash and with the stamina of Superman. In no time flat, Steve had you back at his place ready to show you that he wasn't a man who bluffed.

You loved every second of it.

The next morning, as you slipped into the common room at the Avengers Tower for a cup of coffee and a few Tylenol, a grinning Sam snuck into Steve’s bedroom and grinned down at the nearly naked man lying spent in more ways than one on the sheets. “You’re welcome.” He said slyly.

“For what?” Steve asked, an eyebrow arching.

Sam just shook his head and threw a thumb over his shoulder in the direction you’d gone. “Just admit I’m the best wingman you’ll ever have, Rogers.”

Steve rolled his eyes, his attention swinging back to the door as his super hearing picked up your returning footsteps. “Fine. You’re the best, Wilson. Now unless you want to see…”

Luckily for Steve, he didn’t have to finish his threat.

Sam held up his hands, and backed away with a chuckle, choosing not to comment on the blush sneaking up Steve’s neck. “Don’t have to say anything else, Steve. I gotchu.”

Sam left the room and nodded to you in greeting as you slipped past him. Your eyes tracked him as he headed to get himself breakfast and then you shut the door behind you and turned to see a grinning Steve lying on the bed. “What was that about?” You asked, slinking towards him.

“Nothin’, doll. Just Sam tryin’ to claim credit for all of this.” He yanked you onto the bed and cuddled you up against his chest, letting out a breath of relief once you were in his arms once again.

You rolled your eyes and snorted. “Figures that one would think he was the worlds best wingman.”

Steve chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Come on, I need a few more hours of sleep. Someone kept me up all night.”

“Can’t lie to me, Blue Eyes. You loved every minute.”

Steve knew it was too early to say what he really wanted so he kept his comeback locked tightly inside. Instead, he pulled you closer and let his eyes drift shut, dreaming of a future he hadn't thought possible.

Two months later, Steve stepped inside his room after a long sparing session in the gym with Nat. A familiar gleam of brass  caught his eye, stopping him mid-stride and his head whirled to towards the door that led back into the hallway.

There, bolted to the wall was a plaque that read;

“Steve Rogers, my hero, went more than few rounds here sometime after 1943.”

Steve grinned, his fingers instinctively digging into the pocket of his shorts where a dainty diamond ring sat in a velvet box just waiting for the perfect moment for a perfect gal.