Chapter Text
Steve wiped the sweat off his brow, cowl in hand, as he dragged the unconscious villain to the SHIELD van with his other hand. This particular fellow had got the idea in his head to sell some wayward Chitauri bits to some other shady fellows. It was a relatively low-key — was he using that right? — mission, one that usually Nat and Clint would take care of, being the least flashy of the team of six. Unfortunately, Nat was on mission somewhere, so there Steve was.
Clint was busy helping some other SHIELD agents catalogue and secure the tech, so Steve was left to deal with the criminals who’d been taken alive. This fat head, the so-called mastermind behind the whole shebang, was the last one.
Just after Steve handed the baddie off to the agent, Clint clapped him on the shoulder, his hand heavy with force. “Nice going back there Cap,” his teammate remarked, sunny smile on his face.
“You too Clint, that was some fine shooting’” Steve replied as the two boarded the Quinjet headed for home.
Home, which wasn’t a shitty apartment in Brooklyn, or cramped barracks, or a bland grey room in a SHIELD base, but a shining tower in the heart of Manhattan. Home, where Steve had a whole floor to himself, with a shower and a bathtub, and a king sized bed with the softest mattress he’d ever laid on and more fluffy blankets than he knew what to do with. But this home, as comfy as it was, was without Bucky, and so it always felt at least a little empty.
Steve tried to fill his floor with Bucky in little ways. The man’s favorite whisky — or the closest thing this century had — sat in the cabinet, his favorite colors in the wardrobe. And then there was the drawing. It was a little thing, just a pencil drawing of one Bucky Barnes on a sheet of A4 paper, maybe a touch salacious for the sensibilities of Steve’s time, but practically chaste to modern eyes. Back during the war, Steve had done countless drawings like it, nearly always burning them in short order. If anyone other than he and Buck had seen them, it would have been over for both of them. Blue tickets at best, and Steve didn’t like to think about the worst.
The one currently sitting in Steve’s desk was not only the first one he’d done since arriving in the 21st century, it was the first one he’d done since Bucky’s fall. With his muse no longer around to offer sharp smiles of inspiration, Steve had felt lost. It was only when he realized how much Bucky would have loved this new time, that he picked up the pencil and put every shape and shadow of that beautiful man down on paper, bringing his lover into this era with him.
In the evening, after hitting the showers and debriefing, Steve found himself in the common room. Nat was still gone, wouldn’t be back from Bulgaria for another two days in fact, and Bruce and Clint had both turned in early, leaving Steve to work his way through the pile of books he’d missed while in the ice. Currently, he was making his way through the Lord of the Rings trilogy, having read The Hobbit back before the war and loved it — well, Bucky had loved it. Steve had only read it because it was better than sitting idle like a nervous stray dog. Anyway, there were movies now too, and Steve was thinking of bribing Tony into watching them with him. Banana bread might do the trick.
It was at times like these that Steve was grateful for his team. SHIELD was nice enough, but they hadn’t given him more information or care than what was required for him to do his job. He’d gotten the basics of what not to call people now — the one and only time he’d slipped and referred to someone as ‘colored’, he’d gotten the ass-chewing of a lifetime — but otherwise, SHIELD was content to leave him to figure things out for himself.
Conversely, when the Avengers had realized just how underinformed Steve was about the 21st century, the team had made it their mission to get him caught up.
Tony had taken time out of his hectic schedule to give Steve several crash courses on modern technology, and Bruce and Clint had teamed up to cover the pop culture side of things. Even being superheroes tasked with defending innocent lives day in and day out, they still took the time to include him. It was touching, really.
Nat had promised to clue him in on politics and history, but she hadn’t had the time yet. That was fine, as far as Steve was concerned, she was the busiest of all of them and no one owed Steve their time. Still, Steve anticipated the day when Nat found the time, as that might present an opportunity to ask about how homosexuals were dealt with nowadays, without seeming suspicious. Not that Steve was keen on hearing about it, but if running missions had taught him anything, it was that information was everything.
Two days later, the team was sitting down for dinner when JARVIS announced an incoming call from Fury. Tony elected to answer it in the middle of dinner, despite Steve’s protests.
“Heyyy Furiosa! What’s up?” Tony drawled through a mouthful of pork. Some people had no manners these days.
“Damnit Stark,” Fury sighed, “if you haven’t checked the news in a couple hours, you should. SHIELD is already tracking down the journalists responsible, but if you sic your lawyers on them, I won’t complain.”
And the connection went dead. Tony swallowed, then made his way to the living room.
“J, put on CNN”, Tony said, leaning on the back of the enormous couch.
The television came to life, and Steve’s vision was suddenly filled with one of those drawings, the dangerous, forbidden drawings that Steve had thought would stay in the dark forever. Bucky’s bare chest was splashed across the screen, Steve’s signature clear as day, while a presenter commented on it, but he hardly understood her.
Steve didn’t think before he bolted.
It was over, dear God, it was all over. He’d have to resign, he’d have to leave the Tower, leave the only people he had in the whole world. It was only a matter of time before Tony came in his armor and kicked Steve to the curb, only a matter of time before he’d have to survive on his own, on the streets with nothing and no one. With a name and face that meant ‘degenerate’.
That was, if they didn’t lock him up in a lab somewhere, didn’t beat him to death right on the spot.
Steve didn’t realize where he was headed to until his bedroom door slammed behind him. He slumped down against it, balancing his forehead between his knees as he curled up. For the first time since Bucky died, Steve cried.
He didn’t know how long he had sat there before JARVIS pulled him outta his own head.
“Captain Rogers, Sir is requesting access to your personal floor,” the voice in the ceiling intoned. Steve didn’t know why Tony would need permission to go anywhere in his own tower, but things would go smoother if he just let Tony in without a fight.
“Sure thing,” Steve muttered, voice sounding like, well, like someone who’d been crying. He’d figured out by now that JARVIS’ microphones were good enough to pick out whispers, so Steve didn’t bother to correct himself.
A minute later, there was a soft knock on the door. “Hey Steve, it’s Tony. Can I come in?” the man asked, his voice inexplicably soft. Maybe Tony was trying to let him down gently. Steve wished he wouldn’t do that.
He made his way over to the bed, away from the door. He wouldn’t face Tony curled up on the ground. Whatever Steve’s future held, however brief, he’d face it with whatever dignity he still had.
“‘Course, ‘ts your tower,” Tony heard faintly from the other side of the door. In all his — ok, only a couple months of knowing Steve, he’d never heard the super soldier sound so small and defeated before.
Tony opened the door slowly and silently, finding Steve sitting on his bed, head down and hunched over. He looked small, and decidedly broken. Tony knew that there was something more going on. Granted, being publicly outed against one’s will, especially when one was from the goddamn forties, must have been traumatic. But Tony had made his life trusting his gut, and now his gut was telling him that something more was seriously wrong.
Out of no where, Steve choked out a sob. “ Please-“ he begged, voice breaking so hard that Tony couldn’t help but wince in sympathy, “I’ll be useful I swear. I’ll do anything you say, I’ll be so good on missions, but please- I just, I can’t lose this…”
Steve trailed off, seeming to lose his nerve.
Tony, for his part, was horrified, but made his way over to the bed. Of all the ways he’d pictured looking down on Steve begging, this definitely wasn’t one of them.
Now, Tony wasn’t a touchy feely kind of guy, not at all. At most, touch was a way to control others, a power play. (In fact just the prospect of being touched by anyone but Rhodey, Pepper, or Happy was enough to send him into a panic attack on a bad day.) But this wasn’t about Tony. This was about Steve, who was having a breakdown after being publicly outed. Who was from the forties and hadn’t really been properly caught up…
Shit. Tony knew what was going on.
He sat down beside his teammate, noticing the utterly broken look on Steve’s face, and awkwardly patted him on the back. Tony felt Steve flinch under his touch at first, but after a moment, the soldier melted into Tony’s palm.
“It’s alright Steve, you’re not going anywhere,” Tony assured, rubbing circles into his teammate’s back, “I’m not sure if anyone’s told you, but it’s legal now, you’re not in danger.”
Steve froze.
“w-what?”
“Being gay, you know, homosexuality. It’s legal. Trust me, I’d know. I s’pose now’s good a time as any to tell you I’m bisexual, been out for a while now.”
Tony paused, but when Steve didn’t say anything he continued, “I was actually outed in a similar way as you, funnily enough. I was eighteen, got drunk and then got into some guy’s pants at some party just to wake up to his quotes on the front page of TMZ.”
Steve still didn’t speak, but the soldier shot a sympathetic look Tony’s way, and the older man saw that Steve’s eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with tears.
“Point is, I’m still here ain’t I?” Tony continued, keeping up the comfort, “Privilege of being rich as hell I guess, but it’s a privilege you’ve got now too. I won’t lie, the public’s gonna give you shit for it, but you’ve got me, and you’ve got the team, and we protect our own.”
Jesus Fuck, when did Tony get so damn sincere? The things genuine human connection did to him, he swore.
Steve just nodded, still processing. Tony debated taking his hand away, but in the end, he kept it firmly planted on the other man’s shoulder. Eventually, Steve breathed deeply in and out, and they got up together.
In the elevator, Steve breathed again, before speaking up. “I know I’ve thanked you before, for, well, all this, but I’ve gotta say it again. Thank you so much, Tony, for being here with me havin’ this stupid fit-“
“Hey,” Tony gently cut in, “two things. First: of course I’m here for you, I’m your friend you dumbass, I’ll always be here for you. Second: it’s not stupid. Being outed sucks, no matter how it happens, and you’ve got more reasons than most to be stressed and scared.“
Steve just nodded again. “Still, thank you anyway.”
When the two made it back to the common room, they found Pepper there on the phone with who Tony suspected was SI’s meanest and most competent team of lawyers. Meanwhile, it seemed that Clint was trying to explain homophobia to a befuddled Thor, while Bruce was desperately suppressing a Hulk out. Nat had disassembled her favorite pistol on the coffee table, meticulously yet ominously cleaning every part with clenched fingers and a suspiciously blank expression.
The group went silent as Tony and Steve stepped in, and Pep excused herself to the other room. Bruce went with her, presumably to a quiet, Hulk-proof room to calm down.
Nat was the first to speak.
“This is my fault. I’ve been putting off our catch up session because I just had so much on my plate, but in doing so I failed you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Steve dismissed, “I never asked, never thought to.”
“Actually-“ Tony cut in, unable to stand the subtle but by Nat’s standards quite genuine look of guilt on her face, “- this is the pirate’s fault. He’s the one who didn’t catch you up properly.”
“Uh… care to fill in the rest of us?” Clint butted in.
Steve, Tony, and Nat shared an awkward glance, before Steve hesitantly explained, “no one told me- that is, I didn’t know it’s legal now, to…”
Steve’s breath caught, and Tony surreptitiously returned his hand to the soldier’s shoulder, “I didn’t know it’s legal, to be a homosexual,” Steve damn near whispered.
Clint balked, mouth literally falling open. “Wait, really?! I thought, well, they caught you up the basics of feminism and civil rights, why not this too?”
Steve and Tony both shrugged. As much as SHEILD was known for being, like, hyper competent badasses, they were really fucking stupid sometimes.
Eventually, Bruce returned to the common room, significantly more calm and less green. With the whole team in one place, Tony suggested that they move movie night up a few days to resounding approval. The windows were darkened and Earth’s defenders curled up under blankets, laden with popcorn and hot cocoa, and watched a movie.
And all was right in the world.
Except…
Somewhere, the Asset catches a glimpse of a familiar face on a television, and under the surface, a crack begins to form.