#angsty steve

UGH STILL ANGST AND NO SMUT BUT IT’S COMING

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Thirty minutes later, Steve was sitting awkwardly on the sofa, sinking into thick, soft cushions - when did furniture get so soft anyway - with a plastic container of sushi on his lap. He could say honestly that this was one of the strangest things he had been asked to adapt to. Raw fish? People ate raw fish now. It was, he could admit, very beautiful. It looked like little jewels. He could appreciate the artistry. But he was also very, very aware that he was staring down a platter of raw fish.

Across from him, draped over a large and squishy-looking armchair, was Kate, already dipping a piece of sushi into a dark sauce. She opened her mouth and put the whole piece in at once, looking suddenly like a chipmunk. A pretty chipmunk... Steve shook his head. She looked up at him and froze. “Ooo gob ipa idda foyfaws”

“What?”

She swallowed, holding up one finger. “You’ve gotta dip it in the soy sauce”, she said, pushing the plastic lid towards him, into which she had poured the sauce. “It’s good, very salty”.

Steve nodded slowly, tried to navigate the two sticks she had given him to eat the food. He looked up at her helplessly. She laughed that laugh again and handed him a plastic fork from the bag next to her. “No shame” she said. He took the fork and picked up one of the small rolls, dipped it in the sauce and held it in front of him, dubiously. He shook his head again and then put the whole thing in his mouth.

It was incredible. A riot of flavors, salty, savory, sweet. He could feel the smooth heavy fish, the crisp vegetables, the strange tautness of the seaweed against his tongue. He chewed slowly, savoring the experience. “Wow”, he said after he swallowed.

She laughed again and he felt his chest tighten a little. “Boy, I’m really glad you liked it”. She smiled at him. “I was worried”.

He laughed a little, took up another piece of sushi with his fork and smiled at her over the top of it before taking a bite. She watched him and seemed content, folding her legs underneath her and sitting up. She set her plastic tray down on the coffee table. Her eyes were soft, dark pools softly reflecting warm light. He tried not to watch her, watching him, lest he find himself swallowed up by their gentle depths. He tried to concentrate on the program she had playing on the shiny flat screen of the television. As far as he could tell, it was a woman who got into trouble and then tried to hide it from her husband. When he failed to concentrate on that, he stared deeply into his food.

“Does Captain America drink beer?”

When he turned to look at her she was just as intensely focused on him as he had pretended to be on his sushi. “Ah...he does...I mean, I do”

”Jesus, Steve. A woman is just a person. There’s no reason for you to be as nervous as you are. Just talk to her like you would some guy from the neighborhood. “

“But Buck, I don’t do so well with the guys from the neighborhood either.”

“Well just try not to panic so much, you’re making me anxious.”

Kate returned with two glass bottles and an opener. She cracked the top off the first and handed it to Steve. As she passed it to him, their fingers touched around the neck of the bottle. He looked into her eyes and regretted it immediately. Her eyes were wells and he was drowning in them.

“So how old are you exactly?”

“Wow”

“No, I’m just curious” she laughed “I mean how do you count?”

“I was born in 1918, so I’ll be 95 in July”.

“But, do you count all those years? Or are you...like, 26?”

Steve took a long sip of his beer. It was good. Beer had gotten really good. Hs body felt younger now than it had when he was 18 and could barely make it up the stairs, with grinding in his joints and a constant shortness of breath. He knew he looked closer to 26 than 95. He knew that it would be nice to be 26, in a world full of new possibilities. But his mind felt 95. And his heart, his heart was somewhere at the base of a cliff in Switzerland, buried in snow.

“I guess both.”

***

Chapter Two, more sad Steve, really more promises of smut to come but nothing yet sorry. 

part one

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"Thank you". Her voice betrayed only the slightest quaver. She was pressing her hands against the wall behind her, her whole body tense. "Uh...sure". He went to pick her purse up out of the street, brushed off some gravel with his hand before he handed it to her.

She hesitated for a moment before taking it. Steve realized the wall was holding her up. She squeezed her hands into fists and straightened, her legs trembling. She took a breath and set her jaw, and all at once he was standing in front of Peggy. "Put your left foot forward Hodge". He smiled at the memory of Peggy's fist slamming into the side of Hodge's thick face.

She tried to smile back at him, weakly. She took her purse. "Thank you".

"Can I walk you home...or wherever you're going?"

Her dazed expression sharpened. "What do you mean, wherever I'm going?"

"Oh, I noticed you seemed a little confused, back when you came out of the-"

"You were following me?"

"I was behind you-"

"For six blocks?"

"Well", Steve stuttered "I saw that guy start following you so I followed-"

"So you were following me."

"I was following to make sure-"

"For six blocks-"

"Hi, I'm Steve"

She smiles. "Kate".

"Kate. I'm sorry, I should have called out to you. I'm used to...not this, I guess."

"It's like that story, with the headlights."

Steve shook his head. "The one where the woman is driving and there's a serial killer in her backseat but she doesn't know so the guy behind her keeps flashing his headlights at her - I guess it isn't actually that similar..." Steve shrugged. "How do you not know that story? It's like the hook-hand story!" He tilted his head apologetically. "You don't know the hook hand story?! That is not possible". 

“Can I...I’d like to walk with you” He was glad she had calmed down. She didn’t remind him as much of Peggy when she was calm. Still, there was something about her eyes...

She stared him down for a long moment. Those eyes...

“Okay,” she decided. “Then I can figure out what planet you’re from”. Steve felt a sudden tension in his spine, but managed to ignore it. He tried to laugh, but the image of Chitauri soldiers pouring out of a hole in the sky like flies from a corpse filled all the brainspace where his sense of humor used to be. Tony would probably say he didn’t have a sense of humor. Bucky used to say that sometimes too, usually by way of apology. Steve you gotta gimme a break! I know I said I wouldn’t leave you at Coney Island in the middle of the night but you gotta have a sense of humor about these things. Besides, did you see that girl’s kno-

“So?” She broke through his reverie, a few feet ahead of him. “Are you coming?”