#stevecentricseptember

"So... that was actually pretty great," Steve says, feeling his face heat at his own words.

Batroc laughs proudly beside him. "I told you I'd be a good lay, no?" the man says.

"Oh, uhh, not you, I mean." Steve stammers. "Well, yes, you. But not entirely you."

"Well, it does take two to tango, beau," Batroc says, raising a brow in question. Confusion written all over the man's face.

Steve decides to just say it. "Sex!"

He feels Batroc stiffen beside him.

Panic grips him. He doesn't want Batroc to get the wrong idea.

"I mean. I heard great things. About sex. I can see why people won't shut up about it. It's pretty great. I've always been curious. Definitely worth the wait... 10/10."

As he continues, he can see Batroc growing paler and paler, and his words slowly stop.

"I was your first?" Batroc asks, looking horrified. "Non."

"What's wrong?"

Batroc rolls onto his back, throwing his arm dramatically over his face with a pained groan. "Non! Dis-moi que ce ñ'est pas vrai."

"I... What?"

"You deserved a better first than that! Some quick romp."

"I enjoyed it."

Batroc lets out a mournful cry. "Not the point!

THE END

"I'll happily strip bare for you, my dove. You know I would," Batroc says from his position on the bed. "Just speak the word."

Steve sighs. "You're fine as you are," he says. "Just... keep still."

"Wouldn't you rather me, naked?"

"Not right now," Steve says. "I just want to draw you."

There's a few comfortable moments of silence. Batroc behaves for him and he manages to get a few of the more intricate details of the man's suit down onto the page.

"Oh!" Batroc says, his whole face lighting up with delight. "You like seeing me in my suit."

Steve feels himself flush with embarrassment. His face so heated that he knew he must be an impressive shade of red.

"Uh, well..." He says, trying desperately to find the words to defend himself but coming up short.

"It is so!" Batroc exclaims, looking absolutely delighted. "L' amour." The man says, his voice dropping into a low purr, "If you wanted me spread out on your bed just like this in my suit, you should have said."

Steve buries his face in his hands with a drawn-out groan. Now that Batroc knew, there would be no coming back from this.

THE END

Steve groans as his other self slams into the wall, devouring his lips in a fierce and hungry kiss. He grabs Rogers by his belt, pulling him in closer.

They didn't have much time.

They shouldn't be doing this in the first place.

Somewhere else in Stark Tower, the Avengers were undertaking the Time Heist. His 2012 self was unconscious on the walkway.

Minutes away from when Rogers had to be in the elevator with SHIELD's strike team. But time enough to pull himself into a dark empty room, Loki's sceptre discarded by their feet.

He slips into the alleyway with only the barest on looks behind him. He'd lost his pursuers.

Steve lets out a sigh of relief, slumping against the wall. Body thrumming with adrenalin. Soon the buzz will fade, giving way to the ever-persistent ache that felt permanently embedded into his very core.

He shuts his eyes and takes the rare moment to just breathe. Slowly, calmly. Filling his lungs with the cool air slightly tinged with exhaust from the cars on the nearby road.

Exhausted, as he always was these days, Steve slowly staggers his way further down into the protection of the alley.

He had an hour before he had to meet Sam and Nat at the extraction point... if he could just keep himself out of trouble until then, that'd be fine by him.

What he wouldn't give for a moment of peace and stillness.

As if the world was laughing at his thoughts, a man drops down in front of him.

Steve tenses up, preparing for a fight, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Yoo-hoo, mon Capitaine!" the surprise attacker calls.

He recognises that voice.

"Batroc?" he says, relaxing slightly, "what?"

"Come back to my place, mon ami."

THE END

Closing the book, Steve lets out a long, weary sigh, feeling whatever hope he was holding on to leave with that breath.

He leans forward, dropping his head into his hands.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

How was he kidding? It was.

Now he was left feeling more alone and adrift in this world than he had in months.

It was only with long honed practise that he didn't jump when a familiar hand grips his shoulder.

Steve gathers up what small amount of strength he could manage. "Hey," he says.

"Hey," Nat responds. After a small moment of silence, she asks, "What's all this?"

Steve lifts his face from his hands. He looks down at the pile of books and records in front of him, unable to meet Nat's eyes. "Just, uhh-" he trails off, measuring how much he wanted to let on. "Looking into my family history."

He could hear Nat's frown in the silence. The way her brow would pinch, her lips pulling into a firm line.

"You couldn't find anything through SHIELD?" she asks, voice measured.

"No," he says. "I couldn't. But, it wasn't really their... thing."

The hand on his shoulder squeezes comfortingly.

"No, I guess it wasn't," she says.

Tears burned behind his eyes, threatening to fall. "I miss my mom," he says, voice shaking. "I miss people knowing her. Being able to talk about her."

Natasha sits down in the chair beside him.

"All that's left of her is the few sentences in the books written about me stating that she's my mother." He says. "Nothing about all the people she helped. All the lives she brightened, the hearts she touched. Or just how hard she worked. Nothing about her smile. The warmth of her voice. The love you felt in her every gesture. Her steely determination and strength."

Steve takes a deep breath, curling in on himself as he lets it out. "And it's all forgotten."

"You still remember her though. That's something," Nat says, her voice soft. "You are nothing if not your mother's son."

When he looks over to Nat, finally meeting her eyes, he sees understanding.

Nat reaches out, taking his hands in hers. "I can not promise anything, Steve..." she says. "But I know how important family is, how much it means. I can help you look."

Steve watches Tony rant, keeping his expression carefully neutral. He would sneak away if it wouldn't draw attention to himself.

Clint walks up beside him, an equally as neutral expression on his face. "It's pretty impressive, not gonna lie," the man says.

Steve hums noncommittally.

"Whoever managed to break Stark's not-so-Hulk-proof, Hulk-Proof training equipment must be pretty strong."

"I guess they would," he says, keeping his voice calm and even.

Clint eyes him curiously. A slow smile pulls at the archer's lips.

"If I were to guess," Clint says, his voice light and conversational, a knowing glint in his eyes. Steve feels like a deer caught in the headlights. "It would take quite a bit of strength."

Steve breathes in and out, slowly, doing his best not to react.

"I mean, breaking Stark's equipment..." Clint lets out a low whistle. "They'd need super strength. Enhanced, at the least."

"Maybe..."

"Or godly strength."

"...Perhaps..."

Clint's grin grows sharper, reminding him of the fact that there wasn't much the man's keen eyes misses. "Maybe both combined?"

Steve curses himself mentally.

"Yeah, alright," he confesses, "how much for your silence?"

"Looking to bribe me?" Clint says, smirking.

Steve tucks himself against Thor's side, wrapping himself around the man. Trying to create as much contact between them as possible.

His breath leaves his lungs in a shaky exhale. His face feels hot. His hands tremble, all of him does, like he was about to vibrate out of his skin.

Steve presses his face into Thor's chest, hiding away. Feeling vulnerable. Exposed. Wanting nothing more than to crawl into Thor's warm safety and never leave.

Thor's arms wrap around him. "Ástin mín," Thor says softly, pulling him closer.

Strong fingers brush through his hair, making Steve shiver with pleasure.

THE END