Avengers (MCU) fanfic: "What Or Who (Don't Get Strung Out By The Way I Look)"
Title: What Or Who (Don't Get Strung Out By The Way I Look)
Author's notes: It's a frequent mental exercise of mine to take the characters from a fandom and try to cast them in various plays I like. This one should be obvious. ;3
The first Bruce heard of it was when Steve asked him if he knew where he could get a lab coat. Half-wondering if it was for a mission, Bruce showed him where the ones for Stark Labs (Tower divisions) were kept, but they quickly concluded that none available would accommodate Steve's shoulders. He was about to suggest asking JARVIS where to buy one when Natasha found them.
"No, no," she said, pushing Steve away from the lab coats. "That's the wrong kind. Anyway, we're doing something else." As she propelled Captain America down the hall, muttering about trying on shoes, Steve called out, "Thank you, Bruce! Sorry for wasting your time!"
(Not until later did he make the connection to the previous week's conversation with Clint, where the archer revealed he'd performed with a circus and they'd discussed Bruce's feelings about crowds.)
The inconvenient (for lab coats) breadth of Steve's shoulders was still relatively fresh in Bruce's mind a few nights later when he wandered into the communal lounge area of the Avengers' block of floors, carrying a bowl of cereal and hoping to relax on the big squishy couch. Nonetheless, it took him a moment to process the combination of those shoulders with a curly black wig, corset, and high heels. Also, purple fishnets, which a tuxedoed hunchback with scraggly long blondish hair was determinedly cutting small holes in.
"Oh, hi Bruce," Steve said. "Are you coming, too?"
"Rocky Horror?" he guessed. The hunchback looked up, and damn Natasha's Riff Raff make-up was good. He almost didn't recognise her face. "No, I'm staying in tonight. I went a few times in college, it's a lot of fun." He smiled faintly, and added, "Nice wig," to Clint, who had just walked in at a brisk pace, dressed in a maid's outfit and an impressively fluffy, curly wig.
"Thanks, Doc. Here, Cap, try this on." He held out a beaten leather jacket, much-decorated with buttons, studs, and patches. Steve slipped it on carefully, and then sighed in relief when it fit. Clint mimed wiping sweat from his brow.
Natasha added a last couple safety pins to Steve's tights and stood.
"Right, let's get going, ladies." Smirking, she held out her arms; each of the men took an elbow, and they all decamped to the express elevator. Bruce was not actually surprised by how well Clint walked in heels, but Steve's grace in stilettos was something to see.
As he made himself comfortable on the couch, Bruce thought, Tony's gonna kick himself for missing that, and dug into his snack, grinning.
.
Author's notes: It's a frequent mental exercise of mine to take the characters from a fandom and try to cast them in various plays I like. This one should be obvious. ;3
The first Bruce heard of it was when Steve asked him if he knew where he could get a lab coat. Half-wondering if it was for a mission, Bruce showed him where the ones for Stark Labs (Tower divisions) were kept, but they quickly concluded that none available would accommodate Steve's shoulders. He was about to suggest asking JARVIS where to buy one when Natasha found them.
"No, no," she said, pushing Steve away from the lab coats. "That's the wrong kind. Anyway, we're doing something else." As she propelled Captain America down the hall, muttering about trying on shoes, Steve called out, "Thank you, Bruce! Sorry for wasting your time!"
(Not until later did he make the connection to the previous week's conversation with Clint, where the archer revealed he'd performed with a circus and they'd discussed Bruce's feelings about crowds.)
The inconvenient (for lab coats) breadth of Steve's shoulders was still relatively fresh in Bruce's mind a few nights later when he wandered into the communal lounge area of the Avengers' block of floors, carrying a bowl of cereal and hoping to relax on the big squishy couch. Nonetheless, it took him a moment to process the combination of those shoulders with a curly black wig, corset, and high heels. Also, purple fishnets, which a tuxedoed hunchback with scraggly long blondish hair was determinedly cutting small holes in.
"Oh, hi Bruce," Steve said. "Are you coming, too?"
"Rocky Horror?" he guessed. The hunchback looked up, and damn Natasha's Riff Raff make-up was good. He almost didn't recognise her face. "No, I'm staying in tonight. I went a few times in college, it's a lot of fun." He smiled faintly, and added, "Nice wig," to Clint, who had just walked in at a brisk pace, dressed in a maid's outfit and an impressively fluffy, curly wig.
"Thanks, Doc. Here, Cap, try this on." He held out a beaten leather jacket, much-decorated with buttons, studs, and patches. Steve slipped it on carefully, and then sighed in relief when it fit. Clint mimed wiping sweat from his brow.
Natasha added a last couple safety pins to Steve's tights and stood.
"Right, let's get going, ladies." Smirking, she held out her arms; each of the men took an elbow, and they all decamped to the express elevator. Bruce was not actually surprised by how well Clint walked in heels, but Steve's grace in stilettos was something to see.
As he made himself comfortable on the couch, Bruce thought, Tony's gonna kick himself for missing that, and dug into his snack, grinning.
.