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Oh oh oh this made me go back thru my Giant Scrivener Doc O’ Fanfic and find the thing I remember as my earliest foray into this fandom, after TWS came out and I was like OH MY GODDDDDDD (as so many people were), and I found a gem, a real gem, that has never been incorporated into anything. This is the abortive first flailings of my getting into this fandom.
I HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN.
This is for you.
— “Can you tell us a little about what Captain America is like as a person?” the woman asked, smiling with a lot of teeth, shoving a microphone at Natasha’s face.
Sam grimaced, actually physically tensing to prepare for what would happen when Natasha thigh-choked and flipped the woman, but Natasha just pushed the microphone back slightly with her palm, steadied it, and smiled dangerously.
“He’s very nice,” she said. The woman had noticed Sam’s facial acrobatics, and his unwittingly skeptical look now, and turned her attention on him.
“Are you a friend of his?” the woman asked, predatory, moving the microphone over to Sam.
“Sure am,” Sam said easily, but he was sort of annoyed; c’mon, there weren’t a lot of black dudes who flew around New York with actual wings, it was pretty rich that nobody ever recognized him.
“Can you tell us anything unexpected?” the woman asked. “What about Captain America would you least expect?”
“He cusses like a sailor when he doesn’t think anybody’s listening,” Sam said, counting off on his fingers. “That’s number one. Number two, he will not put his damn smartphone down for anything. If it’s not texts, he’s Tweeting, he’s playing games on it, he’s— oh my God he beat my Flappy Bird score, I was so mad—“
“State secrets,” Natasha said.
“Oh,” Sam said, “oh, and this girl, oh, you know I think she actually beat Flappy Bird, I can’t even. I just— I can’t even, y’know?”
“That’s classified,” Natasha said, and now the woman was looking at her again. She hadn’t known who Natasha was either. Man this chick was dumb.
“And number three,” Sam said, drawing the woman’s attention back. “Number three, in the list of things you would not expect about Steve Rogers, is that—“
“Is that he’s standing right behind you,” Steve said, amused. He put an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “What foul lies are you spreading?”
“I told them about the cussing,” Sam said.
“No,” Steve said, laughing, hiding his face behind his hand. “Oh god. My image.”
“You filthy, man,” Sam said.
“I try,” Steve said earnestly to the woman. “I really try not to say bad words. I tried the thing where you put a rubber band around your wrist and snap it! I tried putting a quarter in the swear jar, I tried all of it. It’s just, you know, you stub your toe, are you really, really gonna say jeepers? Phooey! C’mon. I grew up in Brooklyn, we never talked like that.”
“That’s the truth,” Sam commented, slipping easily into the entertaining-sidekick mode for the benefit of the cameras. He’d never been one to Tom it up but for Steve, sometimes, he found himself doing it anyway.
“How come you don’t wanna ask me for secrets about the Falcon?” Steve asked the interviewer, gesturing at Sam. “He’s way cooler than me! He has a jetpack with wings and more actual service-related military decorations than me.”
Sam actually blushed a little, really touched. “You’re a good dude,” he said to Steve.
“Not as good a dude as you,” Steve said, and shook him a little. “I got a secret about the Falcon: he snores.”
“I do not!” Sam exclaimed, batting at Steve’s arm. “Oh! I do not!”
“Like a chainsaw,” Steve said to the interviewer, then laughingly pulled Sam away into the building. “What was your third thing gonna be?” he asked Sam as they went through the door.
“Hm?”
“The third thing you were gonna tell her,” Steve said.
“I was gonna tell her you drink milk straight from the carton,” Sam said.
Steve laughed. “It’s my apartment, it’s my refrigerator, I do what I want.”
______
Steve woke up as Bucky settled onto the bed, kneeling astride his chest, ruthlessly trapping his arms with precisely-placed knees. “Muh,” Steve said, startled but too groggy to react— and too restrained by his instinctive awareness that this was Bucky and sudden motions were out of line. “Whuh?”
Bucky was holding— he was holding a laptop, open, shoving the screen into Steve’s face.
It was a headline. “CAPTAIN AMERICA IS GAY!” it read.
“Is what,” Steve said blankly, focusing with difficulty on the smaller type. Yes, his eyesight was excellent, but he had been awake for six and a half seconds and Bucky was really heavy.
Bucky let out a cackle of laughter. “This is the best one yet,” he said, and stood up, dropping the laptop on Steve’s chest. “This is awesome. Now will you fuck him already?”
Steve shoved himself up on an elbow, rescuing the laptop as it lurched off toward the floor, and read the story. “Caught outside the gala last night on the red carpet, we snagged an interview with two of Steve Rogers’s friends as Captain America signed autographs. Sam Wilson, better known as the Falcon, revealed intimate knowledge of Captain America’s home habits, but the real shocker was when Cap himself returned to the conversation, embracing the Falcon in a definitely more-than-friendly way and telling our surprised correspondent about some of the Falcon’s habits in bed!”
Steve sighed. “Coulson’ll probably want to kill me,” he said, “but honestly, I don’t see the harm.”
“So fuck him,” Bucky said, raw and intense, “for the love of God, you deserve to have something,” and it suddenly wasn’t all that funny, and he was gone.
Oh oh oh this made me go back thru my Giant Scrivener Doc O’ Fanfic and find the thing I remember as my earliest foray into this fandom, after TWS came out and I was like OH MY GODDDDDDD (as so many people were), and I found a gem, a real gem, that has never been incorporated into anything. This is the abortive first flailings of my getting into this fandom.
I HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN.
This is for you.
— “Can you tell us a little about what Captain America is like as a person?” the woman asked, smiling with a lot of teeth, shoving a microphone at Natasha’s face.
Sam grimaced, actually physically tensing to prepare for what would happen when Natasha thigh-choked and flipped the woman, but Natasha just pushed the microphone back slightly with her palm, steadied it, and smiled dangerously.
“He’s very nice,” she said. The woman had noticed Sam’s facial acrobatics, and his unwittingly skeptical look now, and turned her attention on him.
“Are you a friend of his?” the woman asked, predatory, moving the microphone over to Sam.
“Sure am,” Sam said easily, but he was sort of annoyed; c’mon, there weren’t a lot of black dudes who flew around New York with actual wings, it was pretty rich that nobody ever recognized him.
“Can you tell us anything unexpected?” the woman asked. “What about Captain America would you least expect?”
“He cusses like a sailor when he doesn’t think anybody’s listening,” Sam said, counting off on his fingers. “That’s number one. Number two, he will not put his damn smartphone down for anything. If it’s not texts, he’s Tweeting, he’s playing games on it, he’s— oh my God he beat my Flappy Bird score, I was so mad—“
“State secrets,” Natasha said.
“Oh,” Sam said, “oh, and this girl, oh, you know I think she actually beat Flappy Bird, I can’t even. I just— I can’t even, y’know?”
“That’s classified,” Natasha said, and now the woman was looking at her again. She hadn’t known who Natasha was either. Man this chick was dumb.
“And number three,” Sam said, drawing the woman’s attention back. “Number three, in the list of things you would not expect about Steve Rogers, is that—“
“Is that he’s standing right behind you,” Steve said, amused. He put an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “What foul lies are you spreading?”
“I told them about the cussing,” Sam said.
“No,” Steve said, laughing, hiding his face behind his hand. “Oh god. My image.”
“You filthy, man,” Sam said.
“I try,” Steve said earnestly to the woman. “I really try not to say bad words. I tried the thing where you put a rubber band around your wrist and snap it! I tried putting a quarter in the swear jar, I tried all of it. It’s just, you know, you stub your toe, are you really, really gonna say jeepers? Phooey! C’mon. I grew up in Brooklyn, we never talked like that.”
“That’s the truth,” Sam commented, slipping easily into the entertaining-sidekick mode for the benefit of the cameras. He’d never been one to Tom it up but for Steve, sometimes, he found himself doing it anyway.
“How come you don’t wanna ask me for secrets about the Falcon?” Steve asked the interviewer, gesturing at Sam. “He’s way cooler than me! He has a jetpack with wings and more actual service-related military decorations than me.”
Sam actually blushed a little, really touched. “You’re a good dude,” he said to Steve.
“Not as good a dude as you,” Steve said, and shook him a little. “I got a secret about the Falcon: he snores.”
“I do not!” Sam exclaimed, batting at Steve’s arm. “Oh! I do not!”
“Like a chainsaw,” Steve said to the interviewer, then laughingly pulled Sam away into the building. “What was your third thing gonna be?” he asked Sam as they went through the door.
“Hm?”
“The third thing you were gonna tell her,” Steve said.
“I was gonna tell her you drink milk straight from the carton,” Sam said.
Steve laughed. “It’s my apartment, it’s my refrigerator, I do what I want.”
______
Steve woke up as Bucky settled onto the bed, kneeling astride his chest, ruthlessly trapping his arms with precisely-placed knees. “Muh,” Steve said, startled but too groggy to react— and too restrained by his instinctive awareness that this was Bucky and sudden motions were out of line. “Whuh?”
Bucky was holding— he was holding a laptop, open, shoving the screen into Steve’s face.
It was a headline. “CAPTAIN AMERICA IS GAY!” it read.
“Is what,” Steve said blankly, focusing with difficulty on the smaller type. Yes, his eyesight was excellent, but he had been awake for six and a half seconds and Bucky was really heavy.
Bucky let out a cackle of laughter. “This is the best one yet,” he said, and stood up, dropping the laptop on Steve’s chest. “This is awesome. Now will you fuck him already?”
Steve shoved himself up on an elbow, rescuing the laptop as it lurched off toward the floor, and read the story. “Caught outside the gala last night on the red carpet, we snagged an interview with two of Steve Rogers’s friends as Captain America signed autographs. Sam Wilson, better known as the Falcon, revealed intimate knowledge of Captain America’s home habits, but the real shocker was when Cap himself returned to the conversation, embracing the Falcon in a definitely more-than-friendly way and telling our surprised correspondent about some of the Falcon’s habits in bed!”
Steve sighed. “Coulson’ll probably want to kill me,” he said, “but honestly, I don’t see the harm.”
“So fuck him,” Bucky said, raw and intense, “for the love of God, you deserve to have something,” and it suddenly wasn’t all that funny, and he was gone.
