Fic: How late they start to shine (Steve/Thor, R) Part One
Title:: How late they start to shine
Pairing: Steve/Thor
Rating: R
Word count: ~15,500
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.
Warnings: Violence, death of bad guys, internalised homophobia and sex scenes
Summary: Steve’s spent too long hiding his sexuality to expect anything good to happen when Thor finds out. But instead of being ridiculed, he gains a friend...and maybe more.
A/N: Written for thepsychicclam, for the exchange at avengers_xchng.
thepsychicclam, I hope you like this! I kinda took your prompts and mashed them together, with some of the other things you said you liked. I hope this is the sort of thing you had in mind and don’t mind the angst and ridiculousness.
The title comes from a poem by Thom Gunn. Many thanks to mintyfiend for beta-reading. All remaining mistakes are mine, and concrit is welcome. :)
It all starts with a pair of arms. Clint’s arms, to be precise. Steve finds himself staring at them more often than he should. There’s something mesmerising about the way the muscle swells and tenses as Clint draws back an arrow that catches Steve’s attention without him even meaning to look.
The first few times Steve had caught himself looking, he’d told himself it was envy, that he was just wondering why he hadn’t considered a suit without sleeves to show off his own arms. Sure, it’d be a lot less practical, but it’d look damn good. But each time Steve catches himself staring, it becomes harder to lie. It’s something he’s done for as long as he can remember, noticing things about men that he knows he probably shouldn’t, and pushing those thoughts as deep down as he can. He’d always been careful to never get caught, never to face the consequences of even a simple glance.
But Clint’s arms prove to be his undoing. He finds himself so caught up in watching Clint choose a target and aim an arrow that he sometimes forgets what he’s doing and just plain stares. Like now, for example, when he really should be focusing on wrapping his knuckles to take out a few dozen punching bags- his whole reason for being in the training room in the first place- he’s staring like a drooling idiot, with one hand bound too tight and the other much too loose.
Steve quickly rebinds his knuckles and turns his back on Clint, grabbing a punching bag on the way. With one hand, he lifts it towards the hook dangling from the ceiling, but his gaze strays again, over to where Clint is now doing some sort of stretching exercise, rolling his shoulders and rotating his arms. For a moment Steve wonders if maybe Clint knows that Steve’s watching, and if he’s purposely messing with him. But that would mean Clint knows that Steve likes men just as much as he likes women.
That means Steve hasn’t kept his guard up, has failed in his most basic of missions to protect himself. And if Clint knows, then the other Avengers must know too. Steve doesn’t know how lots of things work in this day and age, but he doubts he’ll still be welcome to live in the Avengers Tower and fight alongside them once his secret comes out. The world may have changed a lot in the past seventy years, but Steve can’t imagine it’s changed that much or become that accepting.
He misses the hook twice before he finally manages to tear his gaze away, hanging the bag up and purposely manoeuvring into a position where Clint can’t distract him anymore.
Steve’s just about to start his workout when he hears a low, amused chuckle. Thor is leaning in the doorway with a knowing look on his face. He glances over in Clint’s direction, then back to Steve, and there’s something about how pointed the look is that makes Steve hold very still. He waits, poised for a fight. He doesn’t know what Thor will do, how he’ll react, or what hasty explanation Steve will have to come up with. Worse, he wants to be ready to physically defend himself, if needed.
There’s still a chance, of course, that Thor has misinterpreted the situation, that he thinks Steve’s jealous just like Steve had originally tried to convince himself he was, or that it’s something else entirely. There are a lot of logical explanations for his behaviour, Steve is sure. He just wishes he could think of one right now.
Thor winks and a chill runs through Steve, an awful, fearful chill. Thor had seen him watch Clint. Thor knows.
Steve waits to see what Thor’s going to do. He eyes flick around the room, counting the weapons close at hand, noting the exits, just in case. For a long moment Thor does nothing, just watches Steve. Then he pushes away from the doorframe and saunters past without a word, heading to his training area, as if nothing is out of the ordinary.
Steve has to get out of there. This isn’t the reaction he’d expected, in all of the moments where he’d lain awake at night and pictured what would happen if someone ever caught him. He’d always expected violence first, the kind that he could still remember from his pre-serum days, when he knew the odds were against him but kept fighting anyway. If not violence, he expected harsh words, to be called names that would stain his cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, that would make him be the one to lash out. He knew, at least in theory, how to respond to those reactions. But he’d never considered silence, didn’t know what to do.
Steve risks a glance towards Thor, who is focused on smashing the living daylights out of something with his hammer. It’s as if he hasn’t given Steve another thought. And Steve doesn’t trust that. Trying to be as unnoticeable as possible, he quickly packs up and hurries to his quarters, where he’s as alone as he ever gets in this new, modern world.
He’s seen this seemingly non-reaction before. Not that he’d been caught, thank God, but he remembers the day that two young men, out at the front line, were caught in the barracks together. Steve hadn’t seen what their commanding officer walked in on, but rumours had spread like wildfire throughout the camp. The commanding officer hadn’t spoken a word, had simply walked away to go and draw up blue tickets to send the boys home. He’d told other soldiers though, and with gossip being one of their few forms of entertainment, it wasn’t long until everyone in the camp knew.
Neither of the young soldiers had gone to the mess that night, nor the next morning, but Steve had caught a glimpse of them in the medical tent, bruised and bloody, a few broken bones and maybe worse between them. No one would say who’d given them the beating, and no one stood up to defend them. Steve wonders, sometimes, what he would have done if he’d know it was going to happen. Would he have been the one to defend them, or would he have let it happen and written it off as their punishment for being stupid enough to get caught.
Other times, he thinks about what he’d have done in their situation. The beatings would be nothing- with or without the serum, he’d heal. But the undesirable discharge, being kicked out of the Army for what people termed, in hush tones, ‘homosexual proclivities’ would be too much to bear. All Steve had ever wanted to do was fight for his country, and to have that taken away... he isn’t sure how he’d cope.
Steve sinks down onto his bed, staring at the room around him. It’s been a long time (even ignoring his time in the ice) since he’s had a room to call his own and a place to call home. During the war the barracks had hardly been cozy, with their regimented rows of beds covered in their identical olive green blankets and hard, lumpy pillows, and lockers barely big enough for a few personal items, which for most had meant a pack of cigarettes and a dirty magazine.
Before the war, his mother often had trouble making the rent, especially as she’d gotten sicker and sicker, so they’d moved around a lot. Steve had never really cared, but now he can feel himself getting settled. The room looks less like a blank canvas, and more like an expression of who Steve really is, more than just a man with a shield. A baseball signed by Pete Reiser sat on his desk beside a sketchbook and some pencils. A photo, salvaged from the boxes of Steve’s personal belongings that Howard Stark had stored away, was displayed on the bedside table. It showed Steve, in his pre-serum days beside Bucky, arms around each other’s shoulders. It had been taken before Bucky had enlisted and although the black and white picture was a little fuzzy, Steve thought they looked happy.
It would be easy to pack up what belongings he had and leave, but Steve has never been one to run away from a fight, even before he became Captain America, so he won’t run now. If Thor tells the others what he saw and they ask him to leave, then Steve will just look them in the eye and ignore the wave of shame that will surely wash over him. Determined to push it from his mind, he glances around, looking for something to do. Normally, when his brain races with thoughts that worry him and can’t be dealt with in that moment, he’d find something physical to do, something to punch or fight. But with the training room occupied he needs something else to distract his thoughts. Eventually he settles on picking a book from the stack beside his bed, and begins to read. He has a lot of living to catch up on and he wants to enjoy the quiet while he can.
The summons comes early the next morning. Tony’s voice, asking everyone to meet in the briefing room, almost makes Steve jump as he finishes his morning shower.
“This is it,” he says to himself, staring into the mirror for a long moment. He lifts his chin, holds it high, as he makes his way to the meeting room, both feet and heart feeling heavy. He can’t help but wonder which of his teammates will be the one to ask him to leave.
Steve is the first one there, and he automatically tenses, expecting an ambush. The room is too eerily quiet, like the calm before the storm. The door behind him slides open with a quiet whisper, but instead of an attack it’s just Bruce, shuffling in with a large cup of coffee in his hand, looking as if he hasn’t slept in days. He’s swiftly followed by Tony who is doing his best to appear chipper but something has obviously gotten under his skin.
“I hope that’s decaf,” Tony says to Bruce. “Because the last thing we need is an over caffeinated Hulk destroying the Tower.”
Bruce opens his mouth to reply, then closes it again. Maybe he sees the worry wrinkles forming on Tony’s forehead- identical to how Steve remembers Howard looking so often during the worst points of the war- and comes to the same conclusion as Steve. Tony isn’t happy and he’s not looking forward to sharing whatever’s bothering him. It might be paranoia, but Steve can’t help but notice that Tony refuses to meet his gaze.
Natasha strolls into the debriefing room, looking surprisingly well groomed and awake for so early an hour, and finally Thor and Clint appear at the same time. Steve tries not to make eye contact with Thor, but can’t help himself, and is momentarily confused when Thor smiles and takes the seat beside him. Steve wonders if Thor enjoys the idea of Steve being kicked out of the Avengers, if this is an amusing game for him, even though that doesn’t fit with what Steve has come to know about the Asgardian in the short time they’ve spent together.
“Let’s get down to business,” Tony says, all joking comments aimed at various team members obviously exhausted. He looks grim, and his eyes sweep the table, landing on Steve. “We’ve got a problem. And it involves you, Cap.”
Steve swallows, waiting for what’s sure to be coming next.
Tony turns away, towards the large screens that line the room. He touches the tablet in his hands and images start popping up all around them.
Bewildered, it takes Steve a few moments to process the images, to understand just what it is he’s looking at.
“HYDRA,” Steve says, standing up as he forgets his earlier worries. Personal issues fade into almost insignificance when faced with something as worrying as this. He walks to one of the screens, unable to believe what he’s seeing.
“I thought we won,” he says, turning to Tony, his fingers curling into defiant fists. “HYDRA was gone, dealt with. The Red Skull was gone and without their weapons, Hitler fell.” He can’t help the accusatory tone of his voice, aimed not just at Tony, but also at himself. He’d blindly believed what S.H.I.E.L.D. had told him when they’d taken him from the ice. Maybe he’d been too quick to believe what they’d said, to eager to think that his sacrifice, and those of so many more, had been worth it.
Tony holds his hands up in mock defence.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, Cap,” he says. “I’m as pissed as you are. As far as I knew, HYDRA had been disbanded and any time resurgence looked likely, S.H.I.E.L.D. shut it down. I don’t know what’s going on, but this is S.H.I.E.L.D.’s latest intel.”
“How did you get this?” Bruce asks and Tony shrugs.
“For plausible deniability, it’s probably best if I don’t say.”
Steve glances towards Clint and Natasha. “Did either of you know about this?” he asks, unable to keep the accusation out of his tone.
Natasha shakes her head, but Clint looks annoyed.
“D’you really think we wouldn’t have told you?” he demands. “So much for this being a team, if you don’t think you can trust us.”
He pushes back his chair and strides across the room to stare at the screens as far away from Steve as he can get.
Inwardly, Steve winces. Trust. It had never really been an issue for him before- he trusted Bucky with his life, and had done for as long as he could remember. Peggy too, and the Howling Commandos, and the rest of the men he’d fought alongside. Trust was automatic- they had a common enemy, no need to fight amongst themselves. Here, despite living under the same roof and fighting back to back with his teammates, Steve couldn’t say he one hundred percent trusted any of them. None of them knew each other well enough for that yet.
He’d worked with Howard for too long, and heard too many stories about Tony’s reckless, playboy ways. He was wary of the Hulk and his lack of control, and had seen firsthand what damage an Asgardian could do only a few months earlier. And Steve couldn’t help but feel uneasy, having former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents on the team, after finding out what the organisation was trying to do with HYDRA’s weapons technology. And now this revelation- that S.H.I.E.L.D. actively knew about and had done little to stop a reforming of HYDRA.
Steve watches Natasha glance towards Clint, whose back is firmly towards the rest of them. She sighs.
“What would we have to gain, by keeping this from any of you? Besides, do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. was over the moon to lose two of their best agents? They won’t tell us anything until they want us to know.”
“Well, we know now,” Tony says, and brings up a map. Bright spots are highlighted. “These appear to be HYDRA facilities, here in the United States. I propose we pay them a visit and find out what the hell they’ve got planned, and why S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t want us to know about it.”
“I’m in,” Natasha says, raising her eyebrows when the others look at her. “What? I don’t think S.H.I.E.L.D. has an alliance with HYDRA, but I think HYDRA has something they want, and they’re just waiting for the right time to take it from them. I want to know what’s so important they don’t think we should know.”
“I too will stand against this old enemy,” Thor says solemnly, and Bruce sets down his coffee and nods.
Clint turns around, his eyes meeting Steve’s and they both nod in agreement.
“Good,” Tony says. “I’d say we should have breakfast first, but why wait? Let’s give ‘em a wakeup call.”
“Suit up,” Steve says, and they all move to leave, only to be stopped by Tony.
“Any other business?” he asks, and Steve pauses, gaze flicking to Thor then back to Tony. He waits, but Thor says nothing. Still, the relief doesn’t come, and Steve wonders if he’s waiting, biding his time until after this next battle, or for a more opportune moment.
He pushes the thought from his mind, and hurries to get his uniform and shield. There are much more important things to worry about, and worse enemies to face right now than himself.
~~~
Hunting down HYDRA operatives takes up enough of Steve’s time over the next few weeks that he doesn’t have much time to worry about his own personal problems. Occasionally, between infiltrating facilities and bringing back pieces of tech for Tony and Bruce to examine, just in case they’re new HYDRA weapons, he wonders if maybe he’s being overly paranoid, that maybe Thor hadn’t figured out his secret, that he didn’t even suspect anything, and that nothing was going to change.
Still, he avoids Thor as much as he can, to be on the safe side. It’s not very sound logic, but Steve does it anyway, also being careful to not display any behaviour that might appear...undesirable. The problem is, avoiding someone you routinely have to fight alongside on a near daily basis is very, very difficult. Steve finds himself hurrying away from debriefings with excuses that sound stupid even to his own ears, and has to stop himself from omitting giving Thor an order during battle, just to avoid talking to him. It's getting tiresome and he's beginning to suspect that the rest of the team are starting to notice. Which is definitely not what he wants to happen. Steve knows he just needs to figure out a way to ask Thor if he's going to report him, or get over it and stop worrying, but both of these things are easier said than done. For someone with as much courage as Steve knows he has, he's being pretty cowardly about facing up to Thor.
The whole thing is taken out of his hands though after a particularly long and gruelling battle. Steve stumbles out of the Quinjet feeling like a battering ram has hit him, which isn’t too far off what had happened during the latest scuffle with HYDRA. If he feels bad, he knows the others must feel even worse, and he watches them all scatter, battered and limping, to recuperate. He's about to do the same when a large, heavy hand claps down on his shoulder. It takes all the strength Steve has not to let his knees buckle from the impact, after every knock he's taken that day, and he turns to see Thor smiling at him.
"A glorious victory!" Thor declares. He's looking a little rough around the edges, and his hair has been singed by some fireballs that had been shot in their direction, but other than that he seems euphoric.
"It sure was," Steve says, moving to hang up his shield. and cowl in the equipment room Tony had kitted out for them all during his redesign of the Tower.
Thor follows him silently, and Steve's about to demand to know what he wants when Thor says, voice tired and low, "Do you not trust me, Steve Rogers?"
Steve pauses in undoing his uniform and looks over at Thor, who has sunken down onto a bench. He's watching Steve intently, and Steve doesn't know what to say.
"Why would you say that?" he asks, stalling for time.
"You have avoided me for several days now," Thor says simply. "I have either offended you, or you fear me for some reason."
Steve wants to deny it, but it's true. He does fear Thor- fears what he'll say, what he'll do with the knowledge he so certainly has.
"It's not like that," Steve says. "I-" He trails off, unsure how to properly express his feelings.
Thor frowns for a long moment. "Come," he says, decisively. "On Asgard, warriors drink ale and celebrate their victory. They do not sit quietly and nurse their wounds!"
"I really shouldn't-" Steve starts, but Thor is purposely ignoring him.
"To fully trust one who fights at your elbow, you must know them. Perhaps if we trade tales, you will no longer fear me, and I may no longer offend you," Thor says.
Steve finds himself swept along with Thor’s enthusiasm, herded towards Thor's floor of the Tower.
"Tonight we shall celebrate our victory," Thor says. "And discuss our conquests, both on and off the battlefield!"
Steve isn't entirely sure what that means, but there's a twinkle in Thor's eyes that makes Steve panic, just a little. Still, he lets himself be lead to Thor's quarters, and takes the flagon of alcohol Thor presents him with.
"To our victory!" Thor crows, raising his flagon high, and then downing it all. Steve can't help but grin as he follows suit. He wonders if Thor knows how little alcohol affects him, and whether he should mention it- or whether it will work in his favour.
"I have fought many battles," Thor says, looking pensive. "Alongside many proud warriors. Yet I shall treasure these times dearest of all."
Steve finds himself starting to relax. He's missed this, an easiness he’d always felt with Thor that is different to his relationship with the other Avengers. He's not sure what it is- a kinship when modern day Earth references fly over their heads, a similarity in originating from cultures far different than those of the other Avengers, or even perhaps that Thor is the only Avenger to not have heard of Captain America before they met and to not have any preconceived ideas about him. Whatever it is, Steve has missed it.
Thor pours them both another drink. "Earth is both wonderful and strange to me," he says. "There are many things I would do on Asgard that I am unsure of doing here. I find myself unsure about the smallest of things, afraid to offend."
There's a long moment of silence, during which Steve somehow rummages up some courage.
"About the other day," he begins, "in the training room. What you saw..."
Thor finishes his drink and smiles. "Asgardians do not waste time on who a warrior lies with, be it man or maiden. I do not intend to share with others what I saw, if that is your fear."
Relief floods through Steve, followed quickly by curiosity. He tries to imagine a world where he wouldn't need to be afraid to look at another man, and fails.
“I confess I am curious,” Thor says. “You and Clint Barton do not appear to be romantically involved.”
“We’re not!” Steve says quickly. “I just...”
“Ah,” Thor says, a strange expression on his face that to Steve looks like relief, although he must be mistaken. “I too often appreciate another man’s form. Feel no shame, friend. I do not judge, nor should you judge yourself.”
“In the time I grew up, you could ruin someone if you told people you’d seen them looking at another man,” Steve says carefully. “You could ruin yourself by being caught.”
Thor nods thoughtfully. “Has the world not changed, since your time?” he asks. “I often see men romancing men and women romancing women on the magic mirror you call a television.”
“That’s different,” Steve says, although he’s at a loss to explain why. “The things you watch...they’re fictional, and the people are actors. Real life doesn’t work in the same way as it does in the movies. I can’t risk people finding out.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Thor says. “And I shall now share with you, so you may understand why I have no desire to share your business with others. I too have loved men in my time. I bear no shame, nor would anyone dare judge me for my actions. What one does, for love, for passion, need not be questioned.”
Steve watches Thor for a long moment. The idea of Thor, someone who Steve had always believed to be fictional up until a few months ago, experiencing things Steve had only dreamed of was a revelation he hadn’t been prepared for. Questions rush to his tongue, but he bites them back.
They sit in silence, but it is companionable. Steve sips at his ale while Thor pours himself another.
“Did I surprise you?” Thor asks, breaking the silence.
“Yes,” Steve answers honestly. “I never suspected.”
“Nor I of you,” Thor replies. “And yet, it is so.
Steve smiles. It’s a strange feeling, to feel at ease with someone he’s shared his secret with. He regrets his earlier fears that Thor would be malicious enough to tell the others what he’d seen.
“I wish us to be friends,” Thor says, bluntly and Steve wonders if Thor often feels as lonely in this strange, modern world as he does.
“I’d like that,” Steve replies, and in celebration, Thor pours another drink.
~~~
Steve doesn’t realise just how alone he’s felt until Thor becomes his almost constant companion. It makes him wonder how long he’s felt this way- if it’s just since waking up from the ice, or if it’s been going on ever since he’d lost Bucky. Whenever it started, it’s a relief to have company now. Thor’s persistence ensures Steve doesn’t shut himself off, and over the weeks, in between saving the world here and there, Steve gets used to having Thor around.
Steve still spends most of his free evenings catching up on books written after his time, but now instead of doing so in the peace of his room, he reads while Thor watches what he calls his ‘shows’ on the television. Sometimes Steve’s eyes stray from the page and he finds himself immersed in watching Thor instead. He notices the way Thor’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, and how easily the shock shows unashamedly on his face when something unexpected happens on the screen. The enjoyment on Thor’s face makes him look young, and sometimes Steve struggles to remember that Thor is not a young man- he’s an Asgardian who has lived for longer than Steve can imagine.
There’s a kinship between them, an understanding that there are so many things about this modern world they aren’t going to understand. It’s always been there, but now their eyes meet with a smile whenever it happens. It’s refreshing to not be the only person in the room to not get a reference, and the fact that Thor rarely seems to mind makes it easier for Steve to let go of the frustration he often feels in these moments.
Often, between shows and chapters, they talk. Thor has a thousand tales to tell, and is a natural storyteller, painting a scene so vivid that Steve can almost imagine he’s there in the story. Epic battles and wild hunts come to life in Thor’s retelling, and Steve can tell that Thor delights in his reactions. There are exaggerations, of course, but they make Steve smile when Thor insists that the boar they caught the summer he was fourteen was as big as three men.
Later, as they get more comfortable together, Thor shares bawdy talks of his romantic adventures that make Steve’s cheeks burn, as Thor describes in great detail scenes that stay with Steve for days afterwards.
Slowly, as they get to know each other better, and a trust builds between them, Steve opens up. He shares stories of his previous life- growing up in Brooklyn, what he can remember of his parents, being alone for so long apart from Bucky, his childhood friend. He wonders sometimes, from the expression on Thor’s face when Steve tells about the misadventures and trouble they’d gotten into in their youth, if Thor knows how Steve had really felt about Bucky. But he never asks, and Steve is grateful not to tell.
He does tells of his need to fight though, his need to make a difference in the world, and he can’t explain the drive he’d felt. Thor seems to understand, sharing tales of how he had never been able to back down from a fight, no matter what the consequences. Steve tells about the feeling of defeat he’d experienced each time he’d been turned away, and the nervous excitement before his transformation.
Thor knows these things, of course- all of the Avengers had been provided with dossiers on each other by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Steve had studied his carefully. He’s sure Thor had done the same, knowing the importance of studying your allies just as you would study your enemies. Still, Thor listens intently, asking questions on occasion.
He speaks, briefly, of Peggy, of her belief in him and how he’d wanted to take her out for a proper date, yet had never had the chance.
“I don’t know what happened to her,” he says. “I don’t even know how to go about looking for her.”
“Could Tony not locate her for you?” Thor asks. It’s something Steve’s considered, a better option than asking S.H.I.E.L.D. He’d been careful not to ask, when he realised how many years had passed, and hearing soon after about Howard had been hard enough.
“I’m afraid of what I’ll find out,” Steve says honestly. “And I’m not sure I’m brave enough to handle it.”
“There is always hope,” Thor says, wisely. “I had thought Loki to be dead, and yet he appeared here on Earth, alive and safe. Perhaps there were better circumstances to learn of his safety, but still, I was gladdened to know that what I had feared- his death- had not come to pass.”
It’s the first Thor has spoken of Loki since he had returned with him to Asgard, reappearing alone days later. It had been Thor’s return that had called them back to the Tower, where they learned how Tony had reinvented and remodelled it as the new Avengers headquarters.
Steve has questions, but is unsure how to phrase them. As if sensing what he needs to know, Thor simple spreads his arms wide.
“He is my brother,” he explains. “Whatever else may have happened, he is my kin, my constant companion. I have faith that he will see the error of his ways.”
Sensing Thor’s mood, Steve changes the subject, and he doesn’t ask about Loki again.
But he thinks of Thor, and of Loki, each time they head into battle. How strange it must have been, to face down a loved one, to want and need to fight them for the greater good, yet to be terrified of what would happen. Steve doesn’t know how he would handle such a situation.
He has always feared for the soldiers he fought alongside, each fallen man a wound he will never forget. Now, fighting with the Avengers, Steve continues to worry for his team. His concern for Thor is similar to what he’d felt for Bucky, during the war. Any delay in Thor responding or reappearing causes his heart to race, and although he pushes the fear from his mind, the relief he feels upon seeing a bruised and bloody, but very much alive Thor after a skirmish, is overwhelming.
They fight together in the training room at times, matching each other in strength and wits. Steve finds it more challenging, and more relaxing, to have a person to face, rather than a pile of punching bags. They spar for several weeks before Steve realises that he’s been so busy that he hasn’t had time to notice Clint’s arms, let alone be flustered by them. Although Thor finding out his secret has turned out to be a positive, Steve’s learned from his mistake and won’t risk discovery by that route again.
One afternoon in the training room, Thor grabs Steve’s arm as he jabs out at him. He twists Steve around and down onto the floor, trying to hold Steve down with a knee to the chest. Steve grins, knowing that’s not enough to stop him, and attempts to throw Thor off. He almost succeeds, but Thor laughs and bodily pins Steve to the ground. His thighs press against Steve’s, preventing his body from arching up.
“We must hope an enemy does not hold you like this,” Thor says with a grin, “for you appear to be helpless.”
Steve laughs and winks, summoning up all his available strength. He hooks his foot behind Thor’s leg and uses it as leverage to flip them over. He holds Thor down, pinning Thor’s wrists with his hands.
Beneath him, Thor wiggles, trying to get free, and Steve realises just how much of a compromising position this would appear. His hips are level with Thor’s, and their chests are pressed together. He could, if he wanted, lower his head and press his mouth to Thor’s.
The thought, which comes seemingly out of nowhere, surprises him. His stomach somersaults, and Thor uses the distraction to get revenge, flipping them once more.
Steve finds himself looking up at Thor, who bares his teeth in a victorious smile. Thor’s hair hangs down, brushing against Steve’s cheek. Steve lies still, and Thor’s eyes narrow suspiciously, as if expecting a trick. Steve tries to arch up, but whether his motivation is to get away, or get closer, he doesn’t know.
“Steve,” Thor says, and there’s no reason why hearing Thor say his name, something that has happened a hundred or more times before, should make Steve’s skin prickle with anticipation, but it does.
Thor licks his lip, and Steve finds his gaze caught by the sweep of tongue. He realises he’s holding his breath and lets it out shakily. Thor’s expression is thoughtful. He opens his mouth, as if to say more, but Steve rolls his head to the side and looks away, not wanting Thor to see the thoughts written on his face.
Thor remains silent for a long moment, and then his weight lifts from Steve as he climbs to his feet. He holds out a hand to Steve, and Steve takes it, not meeting Thor’s eyes. On his feet, he turns away.
“You have bested me, Steve Rogers,” Thor says formally.
“What do you mean?” Steve asks, confused. “You beat me fair and square.”
But when he turns back around, Thor is gone.
That night Steve lies in his bed, unable to sleep. The feeling of Thor’s body beneath and above him and the expression on his face sticks in his mind. If their wrestling had occurred in a dream, or possibly another lifetime, Steve would have kissed Thor, and to hell with the consequences.
Steve can’t deny that he finds Thor attractive but he can’t help but wonder if these thoughts are anything more than convenience. After all, Thor is the only one who knows Steve’s secret, the only one who has accepted him wholeheartedly and is, based on many of his stories, not unwilling to receive advances from men as well as women.
If Steve did not value Thor’s friendship, and his own role in the Avengers, as he does, it would be a simple, tempting thing- to press his mouth to Thor’s and hope for an equal response. But it’s not worth it, not for the possibility that it’s a flighty attraction that will come to nothing. He’s never been the sort of guy to have a lot of friends. Before the serum, most kids had laughed at him. Afterwards, the men had followed his orders easily enough, but there was rarely the full camaraderie of friendship there. What friends he’d once had were long gone, and Steve values the friendship he shares with Thor too much to risk it over something so unsure.
Steve pushes the feelings away. It’s something he’s had a lot of practice at, and the next day he’s able to face Thor as if the thoughts had never crossed his mind, as if he hadn’t imagined that the stories Thor still frequently told featured him instead of some faceless Asgardian Steve will never know. It’s better this way, he knows, for both of them.
~~~
The seasons change, and the worldwide attacks requiring Avenger intervention become few and far between, a respite that is both welcome and frustrating. Their intel on HYDRA, and that of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s, which Tony is still somehow managing to get his hands on, shows little activity, and the tech they’d brought back previously had proven to be of little interest.
Steve worries this is the calm before the storm, but the rest of his teammates seem to be enjoying the quiet while they can.
Bruce is hanging holiday decorations in his lab when Steve wanders in. Steve raises an eyebrow and Bruce shrugs and laughs in response.
“I thought the place could do with some cheering up,” he says, seeming much more enthusiastic than normal. Steve wonders if it’s the holiday season that has Bruce in a merry mood.
As if reading his mind, Bruce pours something from a flask that’s been sitting over a Bunsen burner into a mug and offers it to Steve. Steve takes it hesitantly, and sniffs.
“Hot chocolate,” Bruce says. “A...colleague from Culver gave me her secret recipe. I haven’t made it in a long time, but it brings back memories.”
“Good ones?” Steve asks, and Bruce’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Still, he looks happier than he has in a long time. Steve takes a sip. It’s creamy and delicious and he wraps his hands around the warmth of the mug . “You’ve got to let Thor try this. He’s got a sweet tooth, and I think he’d like it.”
Bruce gives him a knowing look, that Steve doesn’t really understand, and grins. “I’ll whip up another batch for Tony’s party.”
“What party?”
“Didn’t he tell you?” Bruce asks, flicking the Bunsen off and moving over to another section of his bench which smells strongly of peppermint. “He’s throwing a Christmas party. Says it’s about time we have something to celebrate. I managed to talk him out of Secret Santa though- I mean, what do you buy a millionaire that he doesn’t already have?”
Steve laughs and leaves the lab. It’s been a long time since he celebrated Christmas, or any holiday really, and he finds himself looking forward to it.
The day of the party it snows. Looking out of the window across the city, Steve can see New York blanketed in a layer of white. It brings back strangely vivid memories of snowball fights in the street, racing along icy footpaths wearing a scarf and mittens his mother had made him as a gift, wrapped up much warmer than the other kids, to allay his mother’s fears that he’d fall ill.
As cold as it is outside, the room where Tony is hosting the party is warm and a screen showing an open fireplace adds to the illusion. It isn’t quite as good as the real thing, but Steve appreciates it. A large tree stands on one side of the room, covered in lights and baubles. The seven of them- all members of the Avengers, plus Pepper- sit around a huge table laden with holiday foods.
Thor’s face falls as he surveys the spread. “Midgardian feasts differ somewhat to Asgardian ones,” he says, when Pepper asks him what’s wrong. “Do you not roast a fatted pig? Nor stuff swans with peacocks, which in turn are stuffed with nightingales?”
“I could get you a turducken if you like?” Tony says, placing a large glass of beer in front of Thor, which seems to cheer Thor up somewhat.
Steve notices that, despite its perceived shortcomings, Thor enjoys the meal. He finds himself watching Thor across the table as he reaches for his third helping of yams, and can’t help but smile.
The party continues late into the night, and while Steve laughs and talks with his teammates, he finds his gaze drawn again and again to Thor, watching as he claps Bruce on the back, or frowns in confusion when Clint offers him a cracker to pull, inevitably resulting in Clint being swung into the wall while Thor triumphantly brandishes the remains of the cracker. Amidst the merriment of the day, Steve doesn’t stop to worry what people will think if they see him watching Thor. Everyone is too caught up in celebrating and, besides, there’s nothing unusual in someone watching a friend from across the room.
Because, Steve tells himself, that’s all he sees Thor as. A friend, and one who he doesn’t want to risk losing, at that. He keeps telling himself this right up until Natasha walks up to Thor, points to the ceiling where a sprig of mistletoe is hanging above Thor’s head, and kisses him.
And Thor kisses her back. In fact, he appears to really get into the role, dipping Natasha slightly as he returns the kiss. When he lets her go, amid the laughter and shouted comments of the others, she stumbles a little, and Thor grins at her, before lifting his eyes to meet Steve’s.
Steve looks back at Thor for a long moment where he doesn’t allow himself to think anything at all. And then he bolts.
He’s up on the roof of the Tower before he even stops to think about where he’s going. It’s surprisingly quiet up there, above the city, and cold too, although he hardly notices things like that since the serum. His boots make footprints in the white powder as he makes his way to the edge and looks out across the skyline.
It’s pretty obvious to Steve now that he doesn’t just see Thor as a friend, and that the thoughts he’d occasionally had are more than just run of the mill fantasies, The stomach churning burn of jealousy he’s feeling isn’t over just a friend. All of the little moments over the past month- the time spent together, snippets of conversation, physical contact, which he’s apparently stored up in a box in his mind labelled ‘I love Thor’- flood through his mind. It makes him ache, because this is what he’d worked so hard to avoid- the wanting. Looking and getting caught was bad enough, as were idly daydreams. But to want someone was so much worse. It drags his mind back to before the ice- wanting Bucky to no avail, and then losing him in such a way, wanting Peggy and actually being on the verge of something, but then knowing he’d never get to dance with her as he brought the plane down into the ice. Steve isn’t sure he ever wants to feel like that again. Not when the wanting is so easily replaced with regrets and loss.
Steve closes his eyes and listens to the distant sounds of the city. At least up here he’s alone. He’s pretty certain Thor won’t find him, right up until the moment when he senses someone step up beside him. They’ve spent so much time together over the past months that Steve doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that it’s Thor.
“You tire of the celebrations?” Thor asks, and despite himself Steve smiles and shakes his head. He opens his eyes and glances over at Thor. There’s enough light that he can see the slight frown on Thor’s face.
“No,” he says. “I just needed a little fresh air.”
They stand in silence for a moment.
“Your Earth customs often amuse me,” Thor says. “On Asgard, our Midvinterblot celebrations are similar in many ways, but we do not have the plant you call mistletoe.”
Steve doesn’t respond, but Thor turns to face him. “It was not my wish to kiss Natasha,” he says. “I was merely following your traditions. I do not desire her or wish to pursue her romantically.”
Steve laughs, but it sounds hollow. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he says. “You can kiss whoever you want under the mistletoe. Kiss everyone in the building under the mistletoe- it’s none of my business.”
“Steve Rogers,” Thor says, grasping Steve by the shoulder and forcing him to turn. Even though they’re almost the same height, Steve feels as if he’s looking up at Thor. “I do not need mistletoe as an excuse to do something I have wanted to do for a long time.”
Thor’s hand slides further long Steve’s shoulder, thumb drifting up the side of Steve’s neck, before he leans in and presses his mouth to Steve’s.
Steve doesn’t react at first. He’s used to dealing with a hundred pieces of information flying at him and having to process them all immediately to make his next move in a fight, or give the next strategic order. But this...it overwhelms him and he stands, frozen, as Thor kisses him.
Thor draws back and frowns down at Steve. “My apologies,” he says. “I believe I have misread the situation. I...” he trails off, stepping away.
Steve feels suddenly cold at the loss of Thor’s body heat, and it pulls him from his unresponsive state.
“Wait,” he says, and closes the distance between them. “I was...you surprised me.”
Thor looks hopeful. “My advances are not unwelcome?”
It feels almost surreal, but Steve grins. “Not unwelcome at all,” he says, and slides his hand behind Thor’s neck and kisses him, properly this time. It feels like an age that they stand, their lips and bodies pressed together, but eventually they pull apart.
Overhead, lightning flashes through the sky.
“Was that you?” Steve asks, but Thor only shrugs and smiles.
Onwards to Part Two!
Pairing: Steve/Thor
Rating: R
Word count: ~15,500
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.
Warnings: Violence, death of bad guys, internalised homophobia and sex scenes
Summary: Steve’s spent too long hiding his sexuality to expect anything good to happen when Thor finds out. But instead of being ridiculed, he gains a friend...and maybe more.
A/N: Written for thepsychicclam, for the exchange at avengers_xchng.
thepsychicclam, I hope you like this! I kinda took your prompts and mashed them together, with some of the other things you said you liked. I hope this is the sort of thing you had in mind and don’t mind the angst and ridiculousness.
The title comes from a poem by Thom Gunn. Many thanks to mintyfiend for beta-reading. All remaining mistakes are mine, and concrit is welcome. :)
It all starts with a pair of arms. Clint’s arms, to be precise. Steve finds himself staring at them more often than he should. There’s something mesmerising about the way the muscle swells and tenses as Clint draws back an arrow that catches Steve’s attention without him even meaning to look.
The first few times Steve had caught himself looking, he’d told himself it was envy, that he was just wondering why he hadn’t considered a suit without sleeves to show off his own arms. Sure, it’d be a lot less practical, but it’d look damn good. But each time Steve catches himself staring, it becomes harder to lie. It’s something he’s done for as long as he can remember, noticing things about men that he knows he probably shouldn’t, and pushing those thoughts as deep down as he can. He’d always been careful to never get caught, never to face the consequences of even a simple glance.
But Clint’s arms prove to be his undoing. He finds himself so caught up in watching Clint choose a target and aim an arrow that he sometimes forgets what he’s doing and just plain stares. Like now, for example, when he really should be focusing on wrapping his knuckles to take out a few dozen punching bags- his whole reason for being in the training room in the first place- he’s staring like a drooling idiot, with one hand bound too tight and the other much too loose.
Steve quickly rebinds his knuckles and turns his back on Clint, grabbing a punching bag on the way. With one hand, he lifts it towards the hook dangling from the ceiling, but his gaze strays again, over to where Clint is now doing some sort of stretching exercise, rolling his shoulders and rotating his arms. For a moment Steve wonders if maybe Clint knows that Steve’s watching, and if he’s purposely messing with him. But that would mean Clint knows that Steve likes men just as much as he likes women.
That means Steve hasn’t kept his guard up, has failed in his most basic of missions to protect himself. And if Clint knows, then the other Avengers must know too. Steve doesn’t know how lots of things work in this day and age, but he doubts he’ll still be welcome to live in the Avengers Tower and fight alongside them once his secret comes out. The world may have changed a lot in the past seventy years, but Steve can’t imagine it’s changed that much or become that accepting.
He misses the hook twice before he finally manages to tear his gaze away, hanging the bag up and purposely manoeuvring into a position where Clint can’t distract him anymore.
Steve’s just about to start his workout when he hears a low, amused chuckle. Thor is leaning in the doorway with a knowing look on his face. He glances over in Clint’s direction, then back to Steve, and there’s something about how pointed the look is that makes Steve hold very still. He waits, poised for a fight. He doesn’t know what Thor will do, how he’ll react, or what hasty explanation Steve will have to come up with. Worse, he wants to be ready to physically defend himself, if needed.
There’s still a chance, of course, that Thor has misinterpreted the situation, that he thinks Steve’s jealous just like Steve had originally tried to convince himself he was, or that it’s something else entirely. There are a lot of logical explanations for his behaviour, Steve is sure. He just wishes he could think of one right now.
Thor winks and a chill runs through Steve, an awful, fearful chill. Thor had seen him watch Clint. Thor knows.
Steve waits to see what Thor’s going to do. He eyes flick around the room, counting the weapons close at hand, noting the exits, just in case. For a long moment Thor does nothing, just watches Steve. Then he pushes away from the doorframe and saunters past without a word, heading to his training area, as if nothing is out of the ordinary.
Steve has to get out of there. This isn’t the reaction he’d expected, in all of the moments where he’d lain awake at night and pictured what would happen if someone ever caught him. He’d always expected violence first, the kind that he could still remember from his pre-serum days, when he knew the odds were against him but kept fighting anyway. If not violence, he expected harsh words, to be called names that would stain his cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, that would make him be the one to lash out. He knew, at least in theory, how to respond to those reactions. But he’d never considered silence, didn’t know what to do.
Steve risks a glance towards Thor, who is focused on smashing the living daylights out of something with his hammer. It’s as if he hasn’t given Steve another thought. And Steve doesn’t trust that. Trying to be as unnoticeable as possible, he quickly packs up and hurries to his quarters, where he’s as alone as he ever gets in this new, modern world.
He’s seen this seemingly non-reaction before. Not that he’d been caught, thank God, but he remembers the day that two young men, out at the front line, were caught in the barracks together. Steve hadn’t seen what their commanding officer walked in on, but rumours had spread like wildfire throughout the camp. The commanding officer hadn’t spoken a word, had simply walked away to go and draw up blue tickets to send the boys home. He’d told other soldiers though, and with gossip being one of their few forms of entertainment, it wasn’t long until everyone in the camp knew.
Neither of the young soldiers had gone to the mess that night, nor the next morning, but Steve had caught a glimpse of them in the medical tent, bruised and bloody, a few broken bones and maybe worse between them. No one would say who’d given them the beating, and no one stood up to defend them. Steve wonders, sometimes, what he would have done if he’d know it was going to happen. Would he have been the one to defend them, or would he have let it happen and written it off as their punishment for being stupid enough to get caught.
Other times, he thinks about what he’d have done in their situation. The beatings would be nothing- with or without the serum, he’d heal. But the undesirable discharge, being kicked out of the Army for what people termed, in hush tones, ‘homosexual proclivities’ would be too much to bear. All Steve had ever wanted to do was fight for his country, and to have that taken away... he isn’t sure how he’d cope.
Steve sinks down onto his bed, staring at the room around him. It’s been a long time (even ignoring his time in the ice) since he’s had a room to call his own and a place to call home. During the war the barracks had hardly been cozy, with their regimented rows of beds covered in their identical olive green blankets and hard, lumpy pillows, and lockers barely big enough for a few personal items, which for most had meant a pack of cigarettes and a dirty magazine.
Before the war, his mother often had trouble making the rent, especially as she’d gotten sicker and sicker, so they’d moved around a lot. Steve had never really cared, but now he can feel himself getting settled. The room looks less like a blank canvas, and more like an expression of who Steve really is, more than just a man with a shield. A baseball signed by Pete Reiser sat on his desk beside a sketchbook and some pencils. A photo, salvaged from the boxes of Steve’s personal belongings that Howard Stark had stored away, was displayed on the bedside table. It showed Steve, in his pre-serum days beside Bucky, arms around each other’s shoulders. It had been taken before Bucky had enlisted and although the black and white picture was a little fuzzy, Steve thought they looked happy.
It would be easy to pack up what belongings he had and leave, but Steve has never been one to run away from a fight, even before he became Captain America, so he won’t run now. If Thor tells the others what he saw and they ask him to leave, then Steve will just look them in the eye and ignore the wave of shame that will surely wash over him. Determined to push it from his mind, he glances around, looking for something to do. Normally, when his brain races with thoughts that worry him and can’t be dealt with in that moment, he’d find something physical to do, something to punch or fight. But with the training room occupied he needs something else to distract his thoughts. Eventually he settles on picking a book from the stack beside his bed, and begins to read. He has a lot of living to catch up on and he wants to enjoy the quiet while he can.
The summons comes early the next morning. Tony’s voice, asking everyone to meet in the briefing room, almost makes Steve jump as he finishes his morning shower.
“This is it,” he says to himself, staring into the mirror for a long moment. He lifts his chin, holds it high, as he makes his way to the meeting room, both feet and heart feeling heavy. He can’t help but wonder which of his teammates will be the one to ask him to leave.
Steve is the first one there, and he automatically tenses, expecting an ambush. The room is too eerily quiet, like the calm before the storm. The door behind him slides open with a quiet whisper, but instead of an attack it’s just Bruce, shuffling in with a large cup of coffee in his hand, looking as if he hasn’t slept in days. He’s swiftly followed by Tony who is doing his best to appear chipper but something has obviously gotten under his skin.
“I hope that’s decaf,” Tony says to Bruce. “Because the last thing we need is an over caffeinated Hulk destroying the Tower.”
Bruce opens his mouth to reply, then closes it again. Maybe he sees the worry wrinkles forming on Tony’s forehead- identical to how Steve remembers Howard looking so often during the worst points of the war- and comes to the same conclusion as Steve. Tony isn’t happy and he’s not looking forward to sharing whatever’s bothering him. It might be paranoia, but Steve can’t help but notice that Tony refuses to meet his gaze.
Natasha strolls into the debriefing room, looking surprisingly well groomed and awake for so early an hour, and finally Thor and Clint appear at the same time. Steve tries not to make eye contact with Thor, but can’t help himself, and is momentarily confused when Thor smiles and takes the seat beside him. Steve wonders if Thor enjoys the idea of Steve being kicked out of the Avengers, if this is an amusing game for him, even though that doesn’t fit with what Steve has come to know about the Asgardian in the short time they’ve spent together.
“Let’s get down to business,” Tony says, all joking comments aimed at various team members obviously exhausted. He looks grim, and his eyes sweep the table, landing on Steve. “We’ve got a problem. And it involves you, Cap.”
Steve swallows, waiting for what’s sure to be coming next.
Tony turns away, towards the large screens that line the room. He touches the tablet in his hands and images start popping up all around them.
Bewildered, it takes Steve a few moments to process the images, to understand just what it is he’s looking at.
“HYDRA,” Steve says, standing up as he forgets his earlier worries. Personal issues fade into almost insignificance when faced with something as worrying as this. He walks to one of the screens, unable to believe what he’s seeing.
“I thought we won,” he says, turning to Tony, his fingers curling into defiant fists. “HYDRA was gone, dealt with. The Red Skull was gone and without their weapons, Hitler fell.” He can’t help the accusatory tone of his voice, aimed not just at Tony, but also at himself. He’d blindly believed what S.H.I.E.L.D. had told him when they’d taken him from the ice. Maybe he’d been too quick to believe what they’d said, to eager to think that his sacrifice, and those of so many more, had been worth it.
Tony holds his hands up in mock defence.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, Cap,” he says. “I’m as pissed as you are. As far as I knew, HYDRA had been disbanded and any time resurgence looked likely, S.H.I.E.L.D. shut it down. I don’t know what’s going on, but this is S.H.I.E.L.D.’s latest intel.”
“How did you get this?” Bruce asks and Tony shrugs.
“For plausible deniability, it’s probably best if I don’t say.”
Steve glances towards Clint and Natasha. “Did either of you know about this?” he asks, unable to keep the accusation out of his tone.
Natasha shakes her head, but Clint looks annoyed.
“D’you really think we wouldn’t have told you?” he demands. “So much for this being a team, if you don’t think you can trust us.”
He pushes back his chair and strides across the room to stare at the screens as far away from Steve as he can get.
Inwardly, Steve winces. Trust. It had never really been an issue for him before- he trusted Bucky with his life, and had done for as long as he could remember. Peggy too, and the Howling Commandos, and the rest of the men he’d fought alongside. Trust was automatic- they had a common enemy, no need to fight amongst themselves. Here, despite living under the same roof and fighting back to back with his teammates, Steve couldn’t say he one hundred percent trusted any of them. None of them knew each other well enough for that yet.
He’d worked with Howard for too long, and heard too many stories about Tony’s reckless, playboy ways. He was wary of the Hulk and his lack of control, and had seen firsthand what damage an Asgardian could do only a few months earlier. And Steve couldn’t help but feel uneasy, having former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents on the team, after finding out what the organisation was trying to do with HYDRA’s weapons technology. And now this revelation- that S.H.I.E.L.D. actively knew about and had done little to stop a reforming of HYDRA.
Steve watches Natasha glance towards Clint, whose back is firmly towards the rest of them. She sighs.
“What would we have to gain, by keeping this from any of you? Besides, do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. was over the moon to lose two of their best agents? They won’t tell us anything until they want us to know.”
“Well, we know now,” Tony says, and brings up a map. Bright spots are highlighted. “These appear to be HYDRA facilities, here in the United States. I propose we pay them a visit and find out what the hell they’ve got planned, and why S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t want us to know about it.”
“I’m in,” Natasha says, raising her eyebrows when the others look at her. “What? I don’t think S.H.I.E.L.D. has an alliance with HYDRA, but I think HYDRA has something they want, and they’re just waiting for the right time to take it from them. I want to know what’s so important they don’t think we should know.”
“I too will stand against this old enemy,” Thor says solemnly, and Bruce sets down his coffee and nods.
Clint turns around, his eyes meeting Steve’s and they both nod in agreement.
“Good,” Tony says. “I’d say we should have breakfast first, but why wait? Let’s give ‘em a wakeup call.”
“Suit up,” Steve says, and they all move to leave, only to be stopped by Tony.
“Any other business?” he asks, and Steve pauses, gaze flicking to Thor then back to Tony. He waits, but Thor says nothing. Still, the relief doesn’t come, and Steve wonders if he’s waiting, biding his time until after this next battle, or for a more opportune moment.
He pushes the thought from his mind, and hurries to get his uniform and shield. There are much more important things to worry about, and worse enemies to face right now than himself.
~~~
Hunting down HYDRA operatives takes up enough of Steve’s time over the next few weeks that he doesn’t have much time to worry about his own personal problems. Occasionally, between infiltrating facilities and bringing back pieces of tech for Tony and Bruce to examine, just in case they’re new HYDRA weapons, he wonders if maybe he’s being overly paranoid, that maybe Thor hadn’t figured out his secret, that he didn’t even suspect anything, and that nothing was going to change.
Still, he avoids Thor as much as he can, to be on the safe side. It’s not very sound logic, but Steve does it anyway, also being careful to not display any behaviour that might appear...undesirable. The problem is, avoiding someone you routinely have to fight alongside on a near daily basis is very, very difficult. Steve finds himself hurrying away from debriefings with excuses that sound stupid even to his own ears, and has to stop himself from omitting giving Thor an order during battle, just to avoid talking to him. It's getting tiresome and he's beginning to suspect that the rest of the team are starting to notice. Which is definitely not what he wants to happen. Steve knows he just needs to figure out a way to ask Thor if he's going to report him, or get over it and stop worrying, but both of these things are easier said than done. For someone with as much courage as Steve knows he has, he's being pretty cowardly about facing up to Thor.
The whole thing is taken out of his hands though after a particularly long and gruelling battle. Steve stumbles out of the Quinjet feeling like a battering ram has hit him, which isn’t too far off what had happened during the latest scuffle with HYDRA. If he feels bad, he knows the others must feel even worse, and he watches them all scatter, battered and limping, to recuperate. He's about to do the same when a large, heavy hand claps down on his shoulder. It takes all the strength Steve has not to let his knees buckle from the impact, after every knock he's taken that day, and he turns to see Thor smiling at him.
"A glorious victory!" Thor declares. He's looking a little rough around the edges, and his hair has been singed by some fireballs that had been shot in their direction, but other than that he seems euphoric.
"It sure was," Steve says, moving to hang up his shield. and cowl in the equipment room Tony had kitted out for them all during his redesign of the Tower.
Thor follows him silently, and Steve's about to demand to know what he wants when Thor says, voice tired and low, "Do you not trust me, Steve Rogers?"
Steve pauses in undoing his uniform and looks over at Thor, who has sunken down onto a bench. He's watching Steve intently, and Steve doesn't know what to say.
"Why would you say that?" he asks, stalling for time.
"You have avoided me for several days now," Thor says simply. "I have either offended you, or you fear me for some reason."
Steve wants to deny it, but it's true. He does fear Thor- fears what he'll say, what he'll do with the knowledge he so certainly has.
"It's not like that," Steve says. "I-" He trails off, unsure how to properly express his feelings.
Thor frowns for a long moment. "Come," he says, decisively. "On Asgard, warriors drink ale and celebrate their victory. They do not sit quietly and nurse their wounds!"
"I really shouldn't-" Steve starts, but Thor is purposely ignoring him.
"To fully trust one who fights at your elbow, you must know them. Perhaps if we trade tales, you will no longer fear me, and I may no longer offend you," Thor says.
Steve finds himself swept along with Thor’s enthusiasm, herded towards Thor's floor of the Tower.
"Tonight we shall celebrate our victory," Thor says. "And discuss our conquests, both on and off the battlefield!"
Steve isn't entirely sure what that means, but there's a twinkle in Thor's eyes that makes Steve panic, just a little. Still, he lets himself be lead to Thor's quarters, and takes the flagon of alcohol Thor presents him with.
"To our victory!" Thor crows, raising his flagon high, and then downing it all. Steve can't help but grin as he follows suit. He wonders if Thor knows how little alcohol affects him, and whether he should mention it- or whether it will work in his favour.
"I have fought many battles," Thor says, looking pensive. "Alongside many proud warriors. Yet I shall treasure these times dearest of all."
Steve finds himself starting to relax. He's missed this, an easiness he’d always felt with Thor that is different to his relationship with the other Avengers. He's not sure what it is- a kinship when modern day Earth references fly over their heads, a similarity in originating from cultures far different than those of the other Avengers, or even perhaps that Thor is the only Avenger to not have heard of Captain America before they met and to not have any preconceived ideas about him. Whatever it is, Steve has missed it.
Thor pours them both another drink. "Earth is both wonderful and strange to me," he says. "There are many things I would do on Asgard that I am unsure of doing here. I find myself unsure about the smallest of things, afraid to offend."
There's a long moment of silence, during which Steve somehow rummages up some courage.
"About the other day," he begins, "in the training room. What you saw..."
Thor finishes his drink and smiles. "Asgardians do not waste time on who a warrior lies with, be it man or maiden. I do not intend to share with others what I saw, if that is your fear."
Relief floods through Steve, followed quickly by curiosity. He tries to imagine a world where he wouldn't need to be afraid to look at another man, and fails.
“I confess I am curious,” Thor says. “You and Clint Barton do not appear to be romantically involved.”
“We’re not!” Steve says quickly. “I just...”
“Ah,” Thor says, a strange expression on his face that to Steve looks like relief, although he must be mistaken. “I too often appreciate another man’s form. Feel no shame, friend. I do not judge, nor should you judge yourself.”
“In the time I grew up, you could ruin someone if you told people you’d seen them looking at another man,” Steve says carefully. “You could ruin yourself by being caught.”
Thor nods thoughtfully. “Has the world not changed, since your time?” he asks. “I often see men romancing men and women romancing women on the magic mirror you call a television.”
“That’s different,” Steve says, although he’s at a loss to explain why. “The things you watch...they’re fictional, and the people are actors. Real life doesn’t work in the same way as it does in the movies. I can’t risk people finding out.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Thor says. “And I shall now share with you, so you may understand why I have no desire to share your business with others. I too have loved men in my time. I bear no shame, nor would anyone dare judge me for my actions. What one does, for love, for passion, need not be questioned.”
Steve watches Thor for a long moment. The idea of Thor, someone who Steve had always believed to be fictional up until a few months ago, experiencing things Steve had only dreamed of was a revelation he hadn’t been prepared for. Questions rush to his tongue, but he bites them back.
They sit in silence, but it is companionable. Steve sips at his ale while Thor pours himself another.
“Did I surprise you?” Thor asks, breaking the silence.
“Yes,” Steve answers honestly. “I never suspected.”
“Nor I of you,” Thor replies. “And yet, it is so.
Steve smiles. It’s a strange feeling, to feel at ease with someone he’s shared his secret with. He regrets his earlier fears that Thor would be malicious enough to tell the others what he’d seen.
“I wish us to be friends,” Thor says, bluntly and Steve wonders if Thor often feels as lonely in this strange, modern world as he does.
“I’d like that,” Steve replies, and in celebration, Thor pours another drink.
~~~
Steve doesn’t realise just how alone he’s felt until Thor becomes his almost constant companion. It makes him wonder how long he’s felt this way- if it’s just since waking up from the ice, or if it’s been going on ever since he’d lost Bucky. Whenever it started, it’s a relief to have company now. Thor’s persistence ensures Steve doesn’t shut himself off, and over the weeks, in between saving the world here and there, Steve gets used to having Thor around.
Steve still spends most of his free evenings catching up on books written after his time, but now instead of doing so in the peace of his room, he reads while Thor watches what he calls his ‘shows’ on the television. Sometimes Steve’s eyes stray from the page and he finds himself immersed in watching Thor instead. He notices the way Thor’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, and how easily the shock shows unashamedly on his face when something unexpected happens on the screen. The enjoyment on Thor’s face makes him look young, and sometimes Steve struggles to remember that Thor is not a young man- he’s an Asgardian who has lived for longer than Steve can imagine.
There’s a kinship between them, an understanding that there are so many things about this modern world they aren’t going to understand. It’s always been there, but now their eyes meet with a smile whenever it happens. It’s refreshing to not be the only person in the room to not get a reference, and the fact that Thor rarely seems to mind makes it easier for Steve to let go of the frustration he often feels in these moments.
Often, between shows and chapters, they talk. Thor has a thousand tales to tell, and is a natural storyteller, painting a scene so vivid that Steve can almost imagine he’s there in the story. Epic battles and wild hunts come to life in Thor’s retelling, and Steve can tell that Thor delights in his reactions. There are exaggerations, of course, but they make Steve smile when Thor insists that the boar they caught the summer he was fourteen was as big as three men.
Later, as they get more comfortable together, Thor shares bawdy talks of his romantic adventures that make Steve’s cheeks burn, as Thor describes in great detail scenes that stay with Steve for days afterwards.
Slowly, as they get to know each other better, and a trust builds between them, Steve opens up. He shares stories of his previous life- growing up in Brooklyn, what he can remember of his parents, being alone for so long apart from Bucky, his childhood friend. He wonders sometimes, from the expression on Thor’s face when Steve tells about the misadventures and trouble they’d gotten into in their youth, if Thor knows how Steve had really felt about Bucky. But he never asks, and Steve is grateful not to tell.
He does tells of his need to fight though, his need to make a difference in the world, and he can’t explain the drive he’d felt. Thor seems to understand, sharing tales of how he had never been able to back down from a fight, no matter what the consequences. Steve tells about the feeling of defeat he’d experienced each time he’d been turned away, and the nervous excitement before his transformation.
Thor knows these things, of course- all of the Avengers had been provided with dossiers on each other by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Steve had studied his carefully. He’s sure Thor had done the same, knowing the importance of studying your allies just as you would study your enemies. Still, Thor listens intently, asking questions on occasion.
He speaks, briefly, of Peggy, of her belief in him and how he’d wanted to take her out for a proper date, yet had never had the chance.
“I don’t know what happened to her,” he says. “I don’t even know how to go about looking for her.”
“Could Tony not locate her for you?” Thor asks. It’s something Steve’s considered, a better option than asking S.H.I.E.L.D. He’d been careful not to ask, when he realised how many years had passed, and hearing soon after about Howard had been hard enough.
“I’m afraid of what I’ll find out,” Steve says honestly. “And I’m not sure I’m brave enough to handle it.”
“There is always hope,” Thor says, wisely. “I had thought Loki to be dead, and yet he appeared here on Earth, alive and safe. Perhaps there were better circumstances to learn of his safety, but still, I was gladdened to know that what I had feared- his death- had not come to pass.”
It’s the first Thor has spoken of Loki since he had returned with him to Asgard, reappearing alone days later. It had been Thor’s return that had called them back to the Tower, where they learned how Tony had reinvented and remodelled it as the new Avengers headquarters.
Steve has questions, but is unsure how to phrase them. As if sensing what he needs to know, Thor simple spreads his arms wide.
“He is my brother,” he explains. “Whatever else may have happened, he is my kin, my constant companion. I have faith that he will see the error of his ways.”
Sensing Thor’s mood, Steve changes the subject, and he doesn’t ask about Loki again.
But he thinks of Thor, and of Loki, each time they head into battle. How strange it must have been, to face down a loved one, to want and need to fight them for the greater good, yet to be terrified of what would happen. Steve doesn’t know how he would handle such a situation.
He has always feared for the soldiers he fought alongside, each fallen man a wound he will never forget. Now, fighting with the Avengers, Steve continues to worry for his team. His concern for Thor is similar to what he’d felt for Bucky, during the war. Any delay in Thor responding or reappearing causes his heart to race, and although he pushes the fear from his mind, the relief he feels upon seeing a bruised and bloody, but very much alive Thor after a skirmish, is overwhelming.
They fight together in the training room at times, matching each other in strength and wits. Steve finds it more challenging, and more relaxing, to have a person to face, rather than a pile of punching bags. They spar for several weeks before Steve realises that he’s been so busy that he hasn’t had time to notice Clint’s arms, let alone be flustered by them. Although Thor finding out his secret has turned out to be a positive, Steve’s learned from his mistake and won’t risk discovery by that route again.
One afternoon in the training room, Thor grabs Steve’s arm as he jabs out at him. He twists Steve around and down onto the floor, trying to hold Steve down with a knee to the chest. Steve grins, knowing that’s not enough to stop him, and attempts to throw Thor off. He almost succeeds, but Thor laughs and bodily pins Steve to the ground. His thighs press against Steve’s, preventing his body from arching up.
“We must hope an enemy does not hold you like this,” Thor says with a grin, “for you appear to be helpless.”
Steve laughs and winks, summoning up all his available strength. He hooks his foot behind Thor’s leg and uses it as leverage to flip them over. He holds Thor down, pinning Thor’s wrists with his hands.
Beneath him, Thor wiggles, trying to get free, and Steve realises just how much of a compromising position this would appear. His hips are level with Thor’s, and their chests are pressed together. He could, if he wanted, lower his head and press his mouth to Thor’s.
The thought, which comes seemingly out of nowhere, surprises him. His stomach somersaults, and Thor uses the distraction to get revenge, flipping them once more.
Steve finds himself looking up at Thor, who bares his teeth in a victorious smile. Thor’s hair hangs down, brushing against Steve’s cheek. Steve lies still, and Thor’s eyes narrow suspiciously, as if expecting a trick. Steve tries to arch up, but whether his motivation is to get away, or get closer, he doesn’t know.
“Steve,” Thor says, and there’s no reason why hearing Thor say his name, something that has happened a hundred or more times before, should make Steve’s skin prickle with anticipation, but it does.
Thor licks his lip, and Steve finds his gaze caught by the sweep of tongue. He realises he’s holding his breath and lets it out shakily. Thor’s expression is thoughtful. He opens his mouth, as if to say more, but Steve rolls his head to the side and looks away, not wanting Thor to see the thoughts written on his face.
Thor remains silent for a long moment, and then his weight lifts from Steve as he climbs to his feet. He holds out a hand to Steve, and Steve takes it, not meeting Thor’s eyes. On his feet, he turns away.
“You have bested me, Steve Rogers,” Thor says formally.
“What do you mean?” Steve asks, confused. “You beat me fair and square.”
But when he turns back around, Thor is gone.
That night Steve lies in his bed, unable to sleep. The feeling of Thor’s body beneath and above him and the expression on his face sticks in his mind. If their wrestling had occurred in a dream, or possibly another lifetime, Steve would have kissed Thor, and to hell with the consequences.
Steve can’t deny that he finds Thor attractive but he can’t help but wonder if these thoughts are anything more than convenience. After all, Thor is the only one who knows Steve’s secret, the only one who has accepted him wholeheartedly and is, based on many of his stories, not unwilling to receive advances from men as well as women.
If Steve did not value Thor’s friendship, and his own role in the Avengers, as he does, it would be a simple, tempting thing- to press his mouth to Thor’s and hope for an equal response. But it’s not worth it, not for the possibility that it’s a flighty attraction that will come to nothing. He’s never been the sort of guy to have a lot of friends. Before the serum, most kids had laughed at him. Afterwards, the men had followed his orders easily enough, but there was rarely the full camaraderie of friendship there. What friends he’d once had were long gone, and Steve values the friendship he shares with Thor too much to risk it over something so unsure.
Steve pushes the feelings away. It’s something he’s had a lot of practice at, and the next day he’s able to face Thor as if the thoughts had never crossed his mind, as if he hadn’t imagined that the stories Thor still frequently told featured him instead of some faceless Asgardian Steve will never know. It’s better this way, he knows, for both of them.
~~~
The seasons change, and the worldwide attacks requiring Avenger intervention become few and far between, a respite that is both welcome and frustrating. Their intel on HYDRA, and that of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s, which Tony is still somehow managing to get his hands on, shows little activity, and the tech they’d brought back previously had proven to be of little interest.
Steve worries this is the calm before the storm, but the rest of his teammates seem to be enjoying the quiet while they can.
Bruce is hanging holiday decorations in his lab when Steve wanders in. Steve raises an eyebrow and Bruce shrugs and laughs in response.
“I thought the place could do with some cheering up,” he says, seeming much more enthusiastic than normal. Steve wonders if it’s the holiday season that has Bruce in a merry mood.
As if reading his mind, Bruce pours something from a flask that’s been sitting over a Bunsen burner into a mug and offers it to Steve. Steve takes it hesitantly, and sniffs.
“Hot chocolate,” Bruce says. “A...colleague from Culver gave me her secret recipe. I haven’t made it in a long time, but it brings back memories.”
“Good ones?” Steve asks, and Bruce’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Still, he looks happier than he has in a long time. Steve takes a sip. It’s creamy and delicious and he wraps his hands around the warmth of the mug . “You’ve got to let Thor try this. He’s got a sweet tooth, and I think he’d like it.”
Bruce gives him a knowing look, that Steve doesn’t really understand, and grins. “I’ll whip up another batch for Tony’s party.”
“What party?”
“Didn’t he tell you?” Bruce asks, flicking the Bunsen off and moving over to another section of his bench which smells strongly of peppermint. “He’s throwing a Christmas party. Says it’s about time we have something to celebrate. I managed to talk him out of Secret Santa though- I mean, what do you buy a millionaire that he doesn’t already have?”
Steve laughs and leaves the lab. It’s been a long time since he celebrated Christmas, or any holiday really, and he finds himself looking forward to it.
The day of the party it snows. Looking out of the window across the city, Steve can see New York blanketed in a layer of white. It brings back strangely vivid memories of snowball fights in the street, racing along icy footpaths wearing a scarf and mittens his mother had made him as a gift, wrapped up much warmer than the other kids, to allay his mother’s fears that he’d fall ill.
As cold as it is outside, the room where Tony is hosting the party is warm and a screen showing an open fireplace adds to the illusion. It isn’t quite as good as the real thing, but Steve appreciates it. A large tree stands on one side of the room, covered in lights and baubles. The seven of them- all members of the Avengers, plus Pepper- sit around a huge table laden with holiday foods.
Thor’s face falls as he surveys the spread. “Midgardian feasts differ somewhat to Asgardian ones,” he says, when Pepper asks him what’s wrong. “Do you not roast a fatted pig? Nor stuff swans with peacocks, which in turn are stuffed with nightingales?”
“I could get you a turducken if you like?” Tony says, placing a large glass of beer in front of Thor, which seems to cheer Thor up somewhat.
Steve notices that, despite its perceived shortcomings, Thor enjoys the meal. He finds himself watching Thor across the table as he reaches for his third helping of yams, and can’t help but smile.
The party continues late into the night, and while Steve laughs and talks with his teammates, he finds his gaze drawn again and again to Thor, watching as he claps Bruce on the back, or frowns in confusion when Clint offers him a cracker to pull, inevitably resulting in Clint being swung into the wall while Thor triumphantly brandishes the remains of the cracker. Amidst the merriment of the day, Steve doesn’t stop to worry what people will think if they see him watching Thor. Everyone is too caught up in celebrating and, besides, there’s nothing unusual in someone watching a friend from across the room.
Because, Steve tells himself, that’s all he sees Thor as. A friend, and one who he doesn’t want to risk losing, at that. He keeps telling himself this right up until Natasha walks up to Thor, points to the ceiling where a sprig of mistletoe is hanging above Thor’s head, and kisses him.
And Thor kisses her back. In fact, he appears to really get into the role, dipping Natasha slightly as he returns the kiss. When he lets her go, amid the laughter and shouted comments of the others, she stumbles a little, and Thor grins at her, before lifting his eyes to meet Steve’s.
Steve looks back at Thor for a long moment where he doesn’t allow himself to think anything at all. And then he bolts.
He’s up on the roof of the Tower before he even stops to think about where he’s going. It’s surprisingly quiet up there, above the city, and cold too, although he hardly notices things like that since the serum. His boots make footprints in the white powder as he makes his way to the edge and looks out across the skyline.
It’s pretty obvious to Steve now that he doesn’t just see Thor as a friend, and that the thoughts he’d occasionally had are more than just run of the mill fantasies, The stomach churning burn of jealousy he’s feeling isn’t over just a friend. All of the little moments over the past month- the time spent together, snippets of conversation, physical contact, which he’s apparently stored up in a box in his mind labelled ‘I love Thor’- flood through his mind. It makes him ache, because this is what he’d worked so hard to avoid- the wanting. Looking and getting caught was bad enough, as were idly daydreams. But to want someone was so much worse. It drags his mind back to before the ice- wanting Bucky to no avail, and then losing him in such a way, wanting Peggy and actually being on the verge of something, but then knowing he’d never get to dance with her as he brought the plane down into the ice. Steve isn’t sure he ever wants to feel like that again. Not when the wanting is so easily replaced with regrets and loss.
Steve closes his eyes and listens to the distant sounds of the city. At least up here he’s alone. He’s pretty certain Thor won’t find him, right up until the moment when he senses someone step up beside him. They’ve spent so much time together over the past months that Steve doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that it’s Thor.
“You tire of the celebrations?” Thor asks, and despite himself Steve smiles and shakes his head. He opens his eyes and glances over at Thor. There’s enough light that he can see the slight frown on Thor’s face.
“No,” he says. “I just needed a little fresh air.”
They stand in silence for a moment.
“Your Earth customs often amuse me,” Thor says. “On Asgard, our Midvinterblot celebrations are similar in many ways, but we do not have the plant you call mistletoe.”
Steve doesn’t respond, but Thor turns to face him. “It was not my wish to kiss Natasha,” he says. “I was merely following your traditions. I do not desire her or wish to pursue her romantically.”
Steve laughs, but it sounds hollow. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he says. “You can kiss whoever you want under the mistletoe. Kiss everyone in the building under the mistletoe- it’s none of my business.”
“Steve Rogers,” Thor says, grasping Steve by the shoulder and forcing him to turn. Even though they’re almost the same height, Steve feels as if he’s looking up at Thor. “I do not need mistletoe as an excuse to do something I have wanted to do for a long time.”
Thor’s hand slides further long Steve’s shoulder, thumb drifting up the side of Steve’s neck, before he leans in and presses his mouth to Steve’s.
Steve doesn’t react at first. He’s used to dealing with a hundred pieces of information flying at him and having to process them all immediately to make his next move in a fight, or give the next strategic order. But this...it overwhelms him and he stands, frozen, as Thor kisses him.
Thor draws back and frowns down at Steve. “My apologies,” he says. “I believe I have misread the situation. I...” he trails off, stepping away.
Steve feels suddenly cold at the loss of Thor’s body heat, and it pulls him from his unresponsive state.
“Wait,” he says, and closes the distance between them. “I was...you surprised me.”
Thor looks hopeful. “My advances are not unwelcome?”
It feels almost surreal, but Steve grins. “Not unwelcome at all,” he says, and slides his hand behind Thor’s neck and kisses him, properly this time. It feels like an age that they stand, their lips and bodies pressed together, but eventually they pull apart.
Overhead, lightning flashes through the sky.
“Was that you?” Steve asks, but Thor only shrugs and smiles.
Onwards to Part Two!