Four Captain America Drabbles
These are the drabbles I produced in pocky_slash’s writing chat on Saturday. They were all written in 15 minutes, so take that as a caveat. Three are Steve/Tony, one is Bucky + New Avengers.
Title: Ritual
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 300
Summary: A ritual of clothing.
Notes: This is probably the closest to porn I’ve ever gotten this pairing. Amazing it’s taken me this long.
Ritual
He’s been doing it for so long, and with such precision, that it has become a ritual of sorts. Slipping on the supple blue leather of the uniform pants. Buckling the belt at his waist. Pulling the shirt over his head, careful to arrange the scale mail over his shoulders and across his vulnerable chest. Tugging on two thick boots, heavy with tread, that he will polish again as soon as the mission is done. Sheathing his hands in tight leather gloves that offer protection and mobility at once. Finally it’s time to pull forward the cowl, the most purely symbolic part of the costume, with its Hermes wings and patriotic letter that transform him from a private citizen named Steve Rogers into an icon known as Captain America.
Now, the ritual is reversed. The cowl has already come down, the boots and gloves discarded, leaving Steve as close to average as he can ever be. But Tony is as reverent as he would be undressing a god. He pulls up the shirt, revealing taut muscles beneath, and Steve shivers at the exposure. Then his hands move lower, over the skin of Steve’s torso, to unbuckle the belt, which he rolls over and over in his hand and sets down on the dresser beside him. Finally, his hands reach for the pants, and in this last moment his reverence is tempered by his eagerness as he tugs down pants, cup, and underwear in one fell swoop, leaving Steve naked and blushing and ready for this newest adventure.
In the morning, Steve’s uniform remains scattered across Tony’s floor, and Steve bends to pick it up piece by piece, happy to add one more ritual to his repertoire.
Title: Dishes
Characters: Bucky, Steve, New Avengers
Rating: PG
Word Count: 350
Summary: Bucky doesn’t know how Steve dealt with these people.
Notes: Takes place while Steve is dead. For the prompt “Household Objects.”
Dishes
No one ever bothered to do the dishes.
Bucky knew he couldn’t blame them entirely. They were off on missions more often than not, and when they were back at HQ they were usually wiped out with pain and exhaustion, summoning up just enough energy to throw leftover pizza in the microwave for dinner. Only Jessica and the baby stayed in the apartment during the day, and Bucky didn’t want to imagine what she’d do to him if he suggested she clean up the place. He could only imagine the hell she’d raise at the implication that she was expected to be their maid. Even the baby would be staring daggers.
But Bucky wasn’t their maid either. He and Natasha were always scrupulously clean, as they’d been trained in the Soviet ranks. A good soldier kept his bedsheets tucked and his mess kit sparkling. Filth wasted time and bred disease. And while Bucky had no love for the Russians who’d brainwashed him, he couldn’t quite quash a persistent nostalgia for their sense of order, a value they held even more dearly than the U.S. Army had.
Here, there was no order. These Avengers were as neat and subtle as a hurricane, tumbling in and out of Steve’s old apartment with no regard for its fragile lamps or antique sofas. They scattered their clothes about, missed the garbage can with their trash, and left those omnipresent stacks of dishes in the sink. Bucky hated it, hated how the Avengers’ presence here turned the apartment into something Steve wouldn’t recognize, stealing away the few pieces of him that remained.
How did you stand it? he asked, tilting his head toward a heaven he didn’t really believe in. How am I supposed to stand it?
But the answer was there, in the faces of the people who had filled this home. The people Steve had loved, mess and all, the people he would have died for.
Did die for.
When it came down to it, there was more of Steve in these Avengers than in an unbroken lamp or clean silverware. And for that, Bucky was willing to overlook a little clutter.
Title: Impulsive
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: PG
Word Count: 250
Summary: Steve wasn’t normally an impulsive person.
Notes: Fuzzy, unspecified time period. For the prompt “In front of the cameras.”
Impulsive
Steve wasn’t normally an impulsive person.
Sure, in the heat of a battle, he’d make the snap decisions that would allow him to save the lives of his teammates, even if the danger to his own life was great. But that was a tactical impulsiveness, a skill he’d been trained for - been made for, really, with the Super-Soldier Serum. Steve could think fast, but his decisions were always based on reason. He wasn’t like Clint, charging into a fight without a plan or pulling a bound-to-backfire prank. The only decisions Steve usually regretted after the fact were personal decisions, made after much internal debate and consideration.
So on that fateful day, Steve couldn’t say he was acting much like himself at all. But maybe he had to act out-of-character to be as honest as he wanted to be. Maybe a little impulsivity was a good thing, if it meant he could finally be honest about something he hadn’t even realized he was hiding.
Either way, when the news cameras had swarmed in, asking about the results of the latest Avengers battle against Doombots in Midtown, and Tony staggered up from the ground, lifting the visor of his mask to prove that he was ok, Steve did the only thing that seemed right at that moment - he grabbed Tony by one metal shoulder, cradled the back of his helmet, and kissed him in front of the entire news media.
It was impulsive, but Steve couldn’t say, afterward, that he regretted it one bit.
Title: Hurry Up
Pairing: Implied Steve/Tony
Rating: PG
Word Count: 450
Summary: Steve, at Tony’s bedside.
Notes: Current canon, spoilers through Invincible Iron Man #22.
Hurry Up
Steve sits at Tony’s bedside, stroking the short hair back from his face. Steve’s never seen Tony’s hair this short, but he’s heard the whole story, now - how Tony shaved his head and face and went on the run, determined to protect the registration database in his mind from the evil designs of Norman Osborn. So determined, in fact, that he’d been willing to destroy his entire brain to do it.
Steve hadn’t hesitated when Rhodey told him. He’d barely been back from… wherever the Red Skull had sent him, barely back from the dead, as far as the rest of the world was concerned. His return wasn’t even public information yet. But when Rhodey appeared at the government hospital where he’d been recovering with the news that Tony Stark needed his help, Steve didn’t even blink. It didn’t matter that he and Tony had been bitter enemies the last time they’d seen each other, that they’d almost killed each other in the throes of combat. Tony was his friend, and he was in danger, and Steve was going to do whatever it took to save him.
Now, he sits by his bedside and realizes how much he’s missed Tony. How much he needs him, to challenge him and argue with him and support him in equal measure. He knows they’ll never agree on the idea of registration, but Steve understands, now, why Tony did what he did - that he’d always honestly intended to protect the registration list himself, and that he was willing to die to do so. That he’d never have allowed unsavory forces to access that information. Steve understands that their intentions and ideals had always been the same, even if their ideas about law and order differed.
“Hurry up,” he whispers, as his fingers brush over Tony’s scalp. “Hurry up and come back to me. We need you. I need you.” It’s selfish, Steve knows - he was gone from Tony much longer than Tony’s been from him. But traveling through his own history has taught Steve a lot, about himself and about Tony and about what they need from each other. What they are to each other, even if Steve’s never realized it before. Steve’s been given a second chance, and he doesn’t believe for a second that God wouldn’t give Tony that chance in return.
He leans over Tony’s form, reaching down to squeeze Tony’s fingers. His shift at Tony’s bedside is almost over; Dr. Blake will be back soon, to check on his vitals and update his prognosis. So Steve makes do with a kiss to Tony’s temple, a wish for his speedy recovery, and a prayer for better days ahead.
Title: Ritual
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 300
Summary: A ritual of clothing.
Notes: This is probably the closest to porn I’ve ever gotten this pairing. Amazing it’s taken me this long.
Ritual
He’s been doing it for so long, and with such precision, that it has become a ritual of sorts. Slipping on the supple blue leather of the uniform pants. Buckling the belt at his waist. Pulling the shirt over his head, careful to arrange the scale mail over his shoulders and across his vulnerable chest. Tugging on two thick boots, heavy with tread, that he will polish again as soon as the mission is done. Sheathing his hands in tight leather gloves that offer protection and mobility at once. Finally it’s time to pull forward the cowl, the most purely symbolic part of the costume, with its Hermes wings and patriotic letter that transform him from a private citizen named Steve Rogers into an icon known as Captain America.
Now, the ritual is reversed. The cowl has already come down, the boots and gloves discarded, leaving Steve as close to average as he can ever be. But Tony is as reverent as he would be undressing a god. He pulls up the shirt, revealing taut muscles beneath, and Steve shivers at the exposure. Then his hands move lower, over the skin of Steve’s torso, to unbuckle the belt, which he rolls over and over in his hand and sets down on the dresser beside him. Finally, his hands reach for the pants, and in this last moment his reverence is tempered by his eagerness as he tugs down pants, cup, and underwear in one fell swoop, leaving Steve naked and blushing and ready for this newest adventure.
In the morning, Steve’s uniform remains scattered across Tony’s floor, and Steve bends to pick it up piece by piece, happy to add one more ritual to his repertoire.
Title: Dishes
Characters: Bucky, Steve, New Avengers
Rating: PG
Word Count: 350
Summary: Bucky doesn’t know how Steve dealt with these people.
Notes: Takes place while Steve is dead. For the prompt “Household Objects.”
Dishes
No one ever bothered to do the dishes.
Bucky knew he couldn’t blame them entirely. They were off on missions more often than not, and when they were back at HQ they were usually wiped out with pain and exhaustion, summoning up just enough energy to throw leftover pizza in the microwave for dinner. Only Jessica and the baby stayed in the apartment during the day, and Bucky didn’t want to imagine what she’d do to him if he suggested she clean up the place. He could only imagine the hell she’d raise at the implication that she was expected to be their maid. Even the baby would be staring daggers.
But Bucky wasn’t their maid either. He and Natasha were always scrupulously clean, as they’d been trained in the Soviet ranks. A good soldier kept his bedsheets tucked and his mess kit sparkling. Filth wasted time and bred disease. And while Bucky had no love for the Russians who’d brainwashed him, he couldn’t quite quash a persistent nostalgia for their sense of order, a value they held even more dearly than the U.S. Army had.
Here, there was no order. These Avengers were as neat and subtle as a hurricane, tumbling in and out of Steve’s old apartment with no regard for its fragile lamps or antique sofas. They scattered their clothes about, missed the garbage can with their trash, and left those omnipresent stacks of dishes in the sink. Bucky hated it, hated how the Avengers’ presence here turned the apartment into something Steve wouldn’t recognize, stealing away the few pieces of him that remained.
How did you stand it? he asked, tilting his head toward a heaven he didn’t really believe in. How am I supposed to stand it?
But the answer was there, in the faces of the people who had filled this home. The people Steve had loved, mess and all, the people he would have died for.
Did die for.
When it came down to it, there was more of Steve in these Avengers than in an unbroken lamp or clean silverware. And for that, Bucky was willing to overlook a little clutter.
Title: Impulsive
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: PG
Word Count: 250
Summary: Steve wasn’t normally an impulsive person.
Notes: Fuzzy, unspecified time period. For the prompt “In front of the cameras.”
Impulsive
Steve wasn’t normally an impulsive person.
Sure, in the heat of a battle, he’d make the snap decisions that would allow him to save the lives of his teammates, even if the danger to his own life was great. But that was a tactical impulsiveness, a skill he’d been trained for - been made for, really, with the Super-Soldier Serum. Steve could think fast, but his decisions were always based on reason. He wasn’t like Clint, charging into a fight without a plan or pulling a bound-to-backfire prank. The only decisions Steve usually regretted after the fact were personal decisions, made after much internal debate and consideration.
So on that fateful day, Steve couldn’t say he was acting much like himself at all. But maybe he had to act out-of-character to be as honest as he wanted to be. Maybe a little impulsivity was a good thing, if it meant he could finally be honest about something he hadn’t even realized he was hiding.
Either way, when the news cameras had swarmed in, asking about the results of the latest Avengers battle against Doombots in Midtown, and Tony staggered up from the ground, lifting the visor of his mask to prove that he was ok, Steve did the only thing that seemed right at that moment - he grabbed Tony by one metal shoulder, cradled the back of his helmet, and kissed him in front of the entire news media.
It was impulsive, but Steve couldn’t say, afterward, that he regretted it one bit.
Title: Hurry Up
Pairing: Implied Steve/Tony
Rating: PG
Word Count: 450
Summary: Steve, at Tony’s bedside.
Notes: Current canon, spoilers through Invincible Iron Man #22.
Hurry Up
Steve sits at Tony’s bedside, stroking the short hair back from his face. Steve’s never seen Tony’s hair this short, but he’s heard the whole story, now - how Tony shaved his head and face and went on the run, determined to protect the registration database in his mind from the evil designs of Norman Osborn. So determined, in fact, that he’d been willing to destroy his entire brain to do it.
Steve hadn’t hesitated when Rhodey told him. He’d barely been back from… wherever the Red Skull had sent him, barely back from the dead, as far as the rest of the world was concerned. His return wasn’t even public information yet. But when Rhodey appeared at the government hospital where he’d been recovering with the news that Tony Stark needed his help, Steve didn’t even blink. It didn’t matter that he and Tony had been bitter enemies the last time they’d seen each other, that they’d almost killed each other in the throes of combat. Tony was his friend, and he was in danger, and Steve was going to do whatever it took to save him.
Now, he sits by his bedside and realizes how much he’s missed Tony. How much he needs him, to challenge him and argue with him and support him in equal measure. He knows they’ll never agree on the idea of registration, but Steve understands, now, why Tony did what he did - that he’d always honestly intended to protect the registration list himself, and that he was willing to die to do so. That he’d never have allowed unsavory forces to access that information. Steve understands that their intentions and ideals had always been the same, even if their ideas about law and order differed.
“Hurry up,” he whispers, as his fingers brush over Tony’s scalp. “Hurry up and come back to me. We need you. I need you.” It’s selfish, Steve knows - he was gone from Tony much longer than Tony’s been from him. But traveling through his own history has taught Steve a lot, about himself and about Tony and about what they need from each other. What they are to each other, even if Steve’s never realized it before. Steve’s been given a second chance, and he doesn’t believe for a second that God wouldn’t give Tony that chance in return.
He leans over Tony’s form, reaching down to squeeze Tony’s fingers. His shift at Tony’s bedside is almost over; Dr. Blake will be back soon, to check on his vitals and update his prognosis. So Steve makes do with a kiss to Tony’s temple, a wish for his speedy recovery, and a prayer for better days ahead.