Fic: Something Familiar
For this Prompt on Capkink: Steve gets laid, and the following morning, he tries to keep it on the hush-hush, but the Avengers find out somehow and react.
Steve rolls over and hugs the warm body to his chest as she attempts to crawl out of the bed. She laughs and runs her nails down his arm. He shivers in response, pressing kisses to the nape of her neck.
A soft moan, a shift of hips and he’s pressing hard into her side.
“Steve, I’ve got class. I’ve got to go,” she mumbled into his arm. He lifts his head and looks at the digital clock on the nightstand. 6:08 a.m. He pulls her closer, grinds against her. “You don’t have class for 3 hours yet and I don’t have any meetings for 4 hours.”
She rotates her hips back and Steve sees stars.
She turns so she’s facing him. Her brown hair is a tangled mess and her hazel eyes still look sleepy. He’d meet Maggie 6 weeks ago at a coffee shop near Columbia. She was sitting outside, sketching the historic buildings. A quick conversation about art lead to coffee, talk of career choices (she’s an art history major and wants to teach; he tells her he’s a soldier. He doesn’t know if she believes him) and exchanges of phone numbers. He tells her he can’t sketch architecture very well, and she offers to tutor him.
She had to put her info in his phone, since he still wasn’t sure how to use it. Tony had tried to explain it, but Steve had somehow erased his entire contact list when he tried to do it by himself. She lists herself as Maggie: Art Tutor and Hot Coffee Shop Girl.
Maggie reminds him of someone, but Steve can’t quite figure out whom. Brown hair leads him to believe Peggy, or Bucky. Yet neither of them had hazel eyes. She’s familiar to him, and Steve needs something familiar after 70 years in the ice. He thinks it might be her name: Maggie…Margaret. Peggy’s name. The familiarity drew him in and her love of art kept him coming back.
He’d called her a few days later. He’d wanted to call her that day, but upon finding out he’d “gotten a girl’s digits” Clint had informed him he needed to wait a few days so he didn’t seem too eager. Coffee once a week turned into twice a week, which lead to evenings spent in galleries and weekends at art fairs in Central Park. Which had all in turn, lead to this: Maggie in his bed.
Turned out she was good at more than just art. It had been a slow build. She’d been more than patient with him. A few kisses to start, then as time went on he grew more confident. He had limited experience (one perfect night with Peggy) and he wanted more, but he needed to be honest with her. How do you tell someone who thinks you’re 27 that you’re really in your 90’s? So Steve took her out to the nicest restaurant he could find (he’d asked Tony, which meant that this dinner was going to cost him at least a month’s pay), and tried to calmly explain what had happened to him. He’d expected her to freak out, to run out of the restaurant screaming, to cry…something.
What she’d actually done is continue eating her pasta dish and calmly replied “So does this mean I can start calling you Star Spangled Man?” Steve was fairly sure he looked like a fish as he opened and closed his mouth, willing words to come out. Maggie sighed, put down her folk and reached across the table for his hand.
“Steve, one of the first classes I ever took in college was ‘1940’s American War Art’. I’ve known exactly who you were since the first moment you sat down across from me at the coffee shop.”
“But…how?” Steve is sure he sounds ridiculous.
“Your eyes. Even in the old posters, they got your eyes exactly right. Just the perfect shade of blue. Now, I’m not saying that I’m not a little weirded out, because I am. But I can deal with this. I’m not scared, I’m not going anywhere, and for the love of god, now that we’ve dealt with this, can we please have sex?”
Steve pays the bill and drags her into a cab.
By some cosmic event, none of the other Avengers were around when they came home. Steve puts all thoughts of his teammates out of his head and focuses entirely on Maggie.
Which leads to the next morning with Steve attempting to keep her in the bed and she just as determined to leave it. “Steve, I need to go home, shower and get to class. I’m already going to be doing the ‘walk of shame’ and I’d rather not do it in front of a bunch of super heroes.”
It takes nearly 20 minutes to locate all of her clothes and shoes (“How did that end up on the ceiling fan?”) before Steve gets dressed and leads Maggie out. He does admit that he’s taking a lot of pride in the ridiculously huge hickey on her collarbone. As they cross out of the personal quarters and into the common area and kitchen, they find Bruce, Tony and Agent Coulson all with coffee mugs already in hand.
The agent glances at Steve as he enters the room and starts in, “Captain Rogers, I’d hoped to catch you before the briefing.” Coulson then catches sight of Maggie. He takes in her state of dress (strapless evening gown at 6:30 am), her hair (bed head is being kind) and the hickey (Steve sees a vein start to throb in the agent’s temple.) “Margaret?!”
Steve realizes that something is wrong. He looks between Maggie and Coulson. He knows Coulson’s not married and even if he was, he’s old enough to be Maggie’s…
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no.
Maggie, with the calm, cool and collected manner that Steve rapidly realizes is a family trait, takes a deep breath and says “Morning, Dad.”
Well, Steve thinks that explains why she seemed so familiar.
Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters something that sounds like “clusterfuck” and Stark lights up like someone had just told him it was his birthday and Christmas, all on the same day. Coulson seems to have suddenly developed a twitch in his left eye.
Coulson looks like he’s mentally doing the math on how much paperwork is involved with shooting an American legend, so Tony pipes up with “Hey, Steve buddy, you need a distraction?” Steve and Maggie are both nodding, when Steve’s brain finally catches up and realizes Tony’s definition of what warrants a “distraction” might differ from his own. As it turns out, he’s correct.
Tony turns, grabs the nearest bar stool from under the counter, and smashes it across Bruce’s back. Banner roars and rapidly begins to swell and turn green. Steve shoves Maggie towards Coulson, hits the alarm, and watches as Bruce runs and jumps out of the living room window. It takes the whole team 3 hours to track down the enraged Hulk, costs SHIELD $546,000 in damages payable to the city of New York, and ends with mission summary entitled, courtesy of Stark:
STEVE GOT LAID AND HIJINKS ENSUED.
Steve rolls over and hugs the warm body to his chest as she attempts to crawl out of the bed. She laughs and runs her nails down his arm. He shivers in response, pressing kisses to the nape of her neck.
A soft moan, a shift of hips and he’s pressing hard into her side.
“Steve, I’ve got class. I’ve got to go,” she mumbled into his arm. He lifts his head and looks at the digital clock on the nightstand. 6:08 a.m. He pulls her closer, grinds against her. “You don’t have class for 3 hours yet and I don’t have any meetings for 4 hours.”
She rotates her hips back and Steve sees stars.
She turns so she’s facing him. Her brown hair is a tangled mess and her hazel eyes still look sleepy. He’d meet Maggie 6 weeks ago at a coffee shop near Columbia. She was sitting outside, sketching the historic buildings. A quick conversation about art lead to coffee, talk of career choices (she’s an art history major and wants to teach; he tells her he’s a soldier. He doesn’t know if she believes him) and exchanges of phone numbers. He tells her he can’t sketch architecture very well, and she offers to tutor him.
She had to put her info in his phone, since he still wasn’t sure how to use it. Tony had tried to explain it, but Steve had somehow erased his entire contact list when he tried to do it by himself. She lists herself as Maggie: Art Tutor and Hot Coffee Shop Girl.
Maggie reminds him of someone, but Steve can’t quite figure out whom. Brown hair leads him to believe Peggy, or Bucky. Yet neither of them had hazel eyes. She’s familiar to him, and Steve needs something familiar after 70 years in the ice. He thinks it might be her name: Maggie…Margaret. Peggy’s name. The familiarity drew him in and her love of art kept him coming back.
He’d called her a few days later. He’d wanted to call her that day, but upon finding out he’d “gotten a girl’s digits” Clint had informed him he needed to wait a few days so he didn’t seem too eager. Coffee once a week turned into twice a week, which lead to evenings spent in galleries and weekends at art fairs in Central Park. Which had all in turn, lead to this: Maggie in his bed.
Turned out she was good at more than just art. It had been a slow build. She’d been more than patient with him. A few kisses to start, then as time went on he grew more confident. He had limited experience (one perfect night with Peggy) and he wanted more, but he needed to be honest with her. How do you tell someone who thinks you’re 27 that you’re really in your 90’s? So Steve took her out to the nicest restaurant he could find (he’d asked Tony, which meant that this dinner was going to cost him at least a month’s pay), and tried to calmly explain what had happened to him. He’d expected her to freak out, to run out of the restaurant screaming, to cry…something.
What she’d actually done is continue eating her pasta dish and calmly replied “So does this mean I can start calling you Star Spangled Man?” Steve was fairly sure he looked like a fish as he opened and closed his mouth, willing words to come out. Maggie sighed, put down her folk and reached across the table for his hand.
“Steve, one of the first classes I ever took in college was ‘1940’s American War Art’. I’ve known exactly who you were since the first moment you sat down across from me at the coffee shop.”
“But…how?” Steve is sure he sounds ridiculous.
“Your eyes. Even in the old posters, they got your eyes exactly right. Just the perfect shade of blue. Now, I’m not saying that I’m not a little weirded out, because I am. But I can deal with this. I’m not scared, I’m not going anywhere, and for the love of god, now that we’ve dealt with this, can we please have sex?”
Steve pays the bill and drags her into a cab.
By some cosmic event, none of the other Avengers were around when they came home. Steve puts all thoughts of his teammates out of his head and focuses entirely on Maggie.
Which leads to the next morning with Steve attempting to keep her in the bed and she just as determined to leave it. “Steve, I need to go home, shower and get to class. I’m already going to be doing the ‘walk of shame’ and I’d rather not do it in front of a bunch of super heroes.”
It takes nearly 20 minutes to locate all of her clothes and shoes (“How did that end up on the ceiling fan?”) before Steve gets dressed and leads Maggie out. He does admit that he’s taking a lot of pride in the ridiculously huge hickey on her collarbone. As they cross out of the personal quarters and into the common area and kitchen, they find Bruce, Tony and Agent Coulson all with coffee mugs already in hand.
The agent glances at Steve as he enters the room and starts in, “Captain Rogers, I’d hoped to catch you before the briefing.” Coulson then catches sight of Maggie. He takes in her state of dress (strapless evening gown at 6:30 am), her hair (bed head is being kind) and the hickey (Steve sees a vein start to throb in the agent’s temple.) “Margaret?!”
Steve realizes that something is wrong. He looks between Maggie and Coulson. He knows Coulson’s not married and even if he was, he’s old enough to be Maggie’s…
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no.
Maggie, with the calm, cool and collected manner that Steve rapidly realizes is a family trait, takes a deep breath and says “Morning, Dad.”
Well, Steve thinks that explains why she seemed so familiar.
Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters something that sounds like “clusterfuck” and Stark lights up like someone had just told him it was his birthday and Christmas, all on the same day. Coulson seems to have suddenly developed a twitch in his left eye.
Coulson looks like he’s mentally doing the math on how much paperwork is involved with shooting an American legend, so Tony pipes up with “Hey, Steve buddy, you need a distraction?” Steve and Maggie are both nodding, when Steve’s brain finally catches up and realizes Tony’s definition of what warrants a “distraction” might differ from his own. As it turns out, he’s correct.
Tony turns, grabs the nearest bar stool from under the counter, and smashes it across Bruce’s back. Banner roars and rapidly begins to swell and turn green. Steve shoves Maggie towards Coulson, hits the alarm, and watches as Bruce runs and jumps out of the living room window. It takes the whole team 3 hours to track down the enraged Hulk, costs SHIELD $546,000 in damages payable to the city of New York, and ends with mission summary entitled, courtesy of Stark:
STEVE GOT LAID AND HIJINKS ENSUED.