on_va_voir (on_va_voir) wrote in districtmarvel, @ 2016-02-08 23:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | peggy carter, steve rogers |
Who: Steve and Peggy
What: A Conversation.
Where: The Capitol
When: Before Tony's party
The thing was, there was a part of Steve that wanted to be mad. Because this had been a huge overstep on Peggy's part. She'd clearly pressured Bucky into admitting something he hadn't wanted Steve to know, and then on top of that, she wanted to use it as part of a plan. A plan Steve still didn't fully understand. And while he could recognize the urge to do something, to try whatever you could to stop something bad from happening, he didn't see how this particular scheme would change a damn thing. The Quell was happening, and nothing was going to sway Stane from his intended course. Not when it was going to get rid of any troublesome Victors in one fell swoop, all in the name of spectacular entertainment.
So now, on top of the sick feeling in his stomach he had every time he thought about the Quell, and the gnawing worry that the revolution was going to fall apart before they'd even gotten it off the ground, Steve had to deal with the fact that Bucky had confided in him an incredibly personal secret and that he'd reacted... less-than-ideally. He knew he had. The conversation had been difficult and stilted, and even though it had ended on an okay note, Steve still felt like he'd failed his best friend.
His best friend who was in love with him.
Hell, he didn't think he was going to get over that any time soon. Steve could see it though, he supposed. How the closeness between them could have morphed into something more. He'd always been so desperately grateful to have Bucky as a friend that it had never occurred to him to consider anything more. No one had wanted Steve back then - not for friendship, and certainly not for romance - and having Bucky as his best friend seemed like more than he could have ever hoped for. But if he'd been a little more self-confident, maybe, if he'd thought to look at Bucky that way, if they hadn't been torn apart by the Games right at that crucial transition from teenagers to adults... well. He could see it, he thought.
But it was a moot point, for so many different reasons. Because Steve was with Peggy, and even if that weren't the case, the Quell was right around the corner, and then Steve would be dead.
And when he thought about that, it was a hell of a lot harder to hold on to his anger. He'd spent enough anger and frustration on his punching bag anyway, and he had the busted up knuckles to prove it.
There was some time yet before Stark's party, and Steve had asked Peggy to come by his hotel room to talk. He'd been angry when he'd first sent the texts, but by the end of the conversation, most of that had left him. He was still annoyed, maybe even irritated, but he didn't want to have a full-fledged fight about it. Right then, he didn't think he'd have the energy.
He also hadn't seen Peggy since the announcement - which felt impossibly far away - and when she finally stepped into his room he was unprepared for the rush of misery that hit him. The door shut behind her, locking automatically, and Steve was already on his feet, hands cupping her face, his mouth crushed to hers, nudging her gently back into the door. He kissed her and he kissed her, ignoring the tremble in his hands, the fact that his face was screwed up, like he was trying not to cry. Because he was going to lose her, he was going to lose her and Buck, and he was willing, he was willing to go into whatever arena they had ready for him, with his shoulders back and chin high, but oh, he didn't want to.
And so instead of picking a fight with her, he kissed her, desperate and needy and miserable.