steve rogers (willingtopay) wrote in the100, @ 2015-09-25 21:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, carol danvers / captain marvel (616), steve rogers / captain america (mcu) |
Who: Steve Rogers & Carol Danvers of course.
When: Last week sometime.
Where: Their room!
What: Steve was an idiot, they had their first fight, so he came back to apologize. (Spoiler alert: they made up.)
Rating: G.
Steve wouldn't have considered himself a coward under any other circumstances, but there was something frightening about facing Carol that he wasn't used to feeling. He didn't usually back down from a conflict - he wasn't usually wrong, in those cases, and maybe that was why he was nervous about going back. He'd been wrong this time. That meant facing what he’d done -- facing the consequences, whatever that was going to be. He didn't want to think the worst of anyone, but no one had told him just how vulnerable a relationship would leave him, how raw and open he would feel. He hadn't understood how worried he'd be that she'd take off, or that he'd feel insignificant out of nowhere. And that -- that was why he slipped back into the shared apartment quietly, and quickly. That was probably why he looked like a kicked puppy when he stepped into their room and shut the door behind him. He wanted to fix things between them, but he didn't know how anymore. Wanting to fix it didn't mean it would work, and what if it didn't? He took a deep breath. That wasn’t rational; he knew that. He wasn't a speechwriter, no matter what anyone else said. He was a man of action, not words. Explaining himself, no matter how hard he tried, just seemed to go all wrong. But he couldn't hide forever, no matter how much he wanted to. He took a deep breath and smiled. "Hey." Carol was sitting on their bed, hugging her knees and waiting for him. "Hey, soldier." She hadn't expected him to look so vulnerable when he walked in. She'd expected him to look irritated, or annoyed, or have some other obnoxious male posturing going on. It hadn't really occurred to her that perhaps all of this was due less to jealousy and more to do with fear. Fear of being left, of not being liked enough, of somehow not being enough of a boyfriend for Carol to be happy with. Insecurity wasn't something she'd expected out of Captain America, but she was his first real girlfriend, and they were in deep. She tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled briefly. "Come on, sit down." It was strange, how different the room felt now, after some time away and with the cloud hanging over them. It felt empty, and Steve knew that was his doing, too. He would've been miserable if she'd left. He slipped his shoes off and left them by the door before sitting down next to her on the bed. Carol looked about as happy as he felt - which was to say, not very, and he was surprised. He'd expected anger. "I'm sorry I left," Steve began. "I missed --" He hesitated, just for a second. "I missed you." Carol nudged him lightly with her elbow. "Missed you, too." It was a stupid fight. Not that did didn't think it was worth arguing, or worth working out, but it was stupid that it could stress them out this way. Then again, she'd gotten in fights for less -- fights that had definitely turned into shouting and possibly throwing things, and if it couldn't get resolved she'd just run. She was used to running off, but she'd never wanted a relationship that much if dropping it felt like the right thing to do. "You didn't have to leave that long," she said. "We needed some time cool off, but … I'm fine, Steve. You know that, right?" "I..." Did he know that? That she was fine? Could he even say that he wasn't sure without Carol getting mad again? After a moment, he shook his head and shrugged. "You didn't want me around. I didn't know when you would. You were mad - and everything I said was..." Wrong. "I don't know. I didn't know if you'd want me to come back after..." It'd been such a stupid, little thing, but he wasn't used to people talking to each other that way if it didn't mean anything, and he knew he'd just have to deal with it somehow. The world was different. People were different. "You seemed angry the entire time we were talking before. But I've been wrong about a lot lately, so we can just add that to the growing list." Carol sighed, sifting her fingers back through her hair and ruffling it at the roots. "Well, I was angry," she said. "I don't like feeling like you think I'm a slut when I'm talking to a friend. But it… I'm probably making assumptions about why you're bothered." She knew Steve, she knew multiple versions of him, and he wasn't the type to get possessive that way. "Honestly, I'd better be super wrong." “I don’t --” Steve frowned. He didn’t think she was, which was why he’d been so taken off-guard by the conversation. It felt different in a way he wasn’t sure he could explain, especially knowing how wrong he’d been to feel that way. But he could also see how it’d look that way to her. “I don’t think you’re a slut, Carol. I just didn’t see the conversation as simply friendly, and I didn’t understand why you would have that kind of conversation because I didn’t think you would do that, and then there it was... so it didn’t… it didn’t make sense. So I thought maybe…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought, I was wrong. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, and I’m sorry I did.” "There's no 'that kind of conversation'," Carol said. "If I said that to a friend who was a girl, would you care?" She shrugged. "I guess I'm just surprised you took it so seriously, and I don't know whether that's some kind of time-travel misunderstanding or if you're really afraid that not only you don't make me happy, but that I'll flirt with other men in public because I don't care about you." She wasn't sure if she could make herself more clear — she thought she made it more than obvious that she was in this with him for the long haul, but was that getting lost in translation? It wasn't as if she'd ever had a relationship this serious. "If you'd dated that girl in your world?" Steve felt a weird ache in his chest. "Yeah, probably." Honestly, he was surprised he'd taken it seriously, too. He hadn't expected to, until it was happening, until it was there and he couldn't make sense of why. Steve rubbed a hand over his face and sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. "I don't know how to explain this, Carol. Every time I try, it gets all… mixed up and you say something like that. I already know I'm an asshole. I don't want to make it worse." Carol rested her chin on her knees, hugging her legs a little bit closer to her chest. It did make a difference that it was Rhodey, didn't it? She had feelings for him — or another version of him — in her world. And things had been good. Things hadn't gone sour yet, things hadn't started to feel stifling or weird — she'd felt stifled and weird, but it hadn't been because of him. "I … yeah, I guess it's different when it's him," she admitted after a moment. Steve nodded. That was the issue. He knew about the history, who he'd been to her before, and feelings didn't stop just because the situation changed unexpectedly, outside of their control. When he'd woken up decades into the future, time was the only thing that helped when it came to how he felt about Peggy. "Yeah," he answered quietly. "It is." He still felt like an idiot for overreacting, but it helped to feel like they were making some progress when it came to understanding what had happened and where he was coming from. Steve reached out and brushed his fingers gently through her hair by the side of her face. "I know it's stupid, I just… I don't think we're all that different from our counterparts, and you're a free spirit in a way I'll never be. I can't stop you from doing whatever you want to do, you said that, and you were right. I can’t. You're going to follow your heart, wherever it takes you. Someday that might not include me." "If it doesn't, I'll tell you," said Carol honestly. She'd mentioned it over text, but it bore repeating now. "Maybe it won't, someday. But today's not that day, and neither is tomorrow, and if I want to book it, then I will. I'm not going to waste my time. I want you to trust that I'm not going to lie to you. I was dating Rhodey in my world, but…" She shrugged. "I was also planning on dropping everything and going into space. I was running from him as much as I was running from everything else." "I know you're not going to lie to me. I trust you." But, Steve thought, after how worried and confused he'd been, he knew that probably wasn't as convincing as it should have been. He should have trusted her from the start. No -- that wasn't right, he did trust her to be honest with him. He just hadn't done a good job of showing her that he did. He'd never thought she would go behind his back. It'd been about the possibility that she might decide someone else could offer her what she really wanted, now that she had a better idea of what that might be. The worst part was knowing this kind of thing would probably drive her away. Steve looked down at his hands, now clasped together in his lap. "I hope that day never comes," he admitted quietly. "I don't know what I'd do." Carol rubbed her hands over her knees. "Me, either," she said. She was used to being self-sufficient, and she still was, but being self-sufficient didn't mean not wanting people in her life. She loved Steve, she loved this life she was building with him. It was an adjustment, sure, getting used to sharing her living space with a boyfriend and getting used to taking someone else's feelings into account without feeling stifled, but if she didn't want it, she wouldn't do it. "I mean, I'd move on. I'd figure things out. But that doesn't mean that I want to find out. I'd rather keep you here." "You'd probably go see the world," he began, looking up at her again, this time with an affectionate smile. "Leave all of this," he waved a hand, vaguely gesturing at the room around them, "behind. As for me? I…" He'd be there until she told him otherwise, provided no other forces got in the way. "Where would I even go, if I’m not here with you?" Carol laughed quietly. "Out into the wilderness to be eaten by werewolves?" she asked. She reached out and gave Steve's arm an affectionate little punch. It was almost uncomfortable, how involved he was, but it wasn't a bad thing to be loved. He was in love with her, and Carol was in love with him, but she was genuinely afraid she'd screw up and mess Steve up for life. He was so much younger, she was his first, and sometimes she had to remind herself that he wasn't jaded and experienced. Jesus. What if she seriously fucked him up somehow? That was the last thing she wanted. She couldn't stand the idea of breaking his heart. “That’s probably what I’d want to do,” Steve agreed with a chuckle, though there wasn’t really a lot of humor in it. He’d find a way to live with it -- he’d have to, since he wasn’t about to abandon everyone who needed him -- but he couldn’t see moving on emotionally as a real possibility. He couldn’t see him wanting to, or letting himself. What he saw instead was burying himself in work until it no longer hurt. Maybe it was dangerous to put so much of himself in her hands. Maybe it was naive to believe in forever. Steve still wanted to believe that was possible, even here. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before bringing it up to his lips. “Forgive me?” He looked at her, brow furrowed a little in a mixture of hope and concern. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry it happened at all.” The stubborn part of Carol wanted to stay mad, but that was a stupid part of Carol. He knew he overreacted, they'd talked it out, and now he was doing that thing with the puppy eyes. Her universe's Steve Rogers hadn't quite mastered the art of those puppy eyes. So she smiled, gave his face a gentle little shove like she could wipe that look off of his face. "Yeah, soldier, I forgive you." A real smile crossed Steve’s face finally, more relaxed and warm than the tentative, nervous ones he’d tried to put on earlier had been. He didn’t care about anything she’d said before, no matter how much it’d hurt. It didn’t matter in the long run, or it wasn’t worth holding onto. What was more important was smoothing things over while he still had a chance. This wouldn’t be their last fight, but Steve didn’t want to get into their second one already. “You know how I feel about you calling me that,” he murmured. His cheeks turned pink, even though he was the one who’d brought it up. “Be careful.” Carol started to smirk, lowering her knees so she could inch a little bit closer to him. "I don't know, soldier, how do you feel about me calling you that? I think I need the reminder." She'd come to learn that he didn't often blush because other people embarrassed him. No, Steve Rogers tended to blush when the things in his mind were filthy and he felt like it could be read all over his face and he was going to get caught. The color on Steve’s cheeks darkened a little, and he scowled half-heartedly. Although he wasn’t exactly sure if this was the right time for that kind of talk, it was a sign that they were going to be okay. It was a good sign. They would be okay, he told himself, because she wouldn’t be there otherwise. They would be okay. “I didn’t think you could forget,” he answered, though he knew she didn’t really need a reminder. It was all part of a game he hadn’t known he’d like. There’d been a lot of things he didn’t know he’d like before he met Carol. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said she’d changed everything. He sat back against the wall and tugged her towards him. “Why don’t you come find out?” Carol laughed quietly, crawling over toward him. She couldn't stay mad. Not now, not when he seemed like he was over it, like he wasn't going to do it again. She could hold grudges over the big things, but the little things really didn't seem to matter so much with the older that she got. If it were someone else, maybe she'd see this as a reason to walk out, a panic button that set her running -- but a mistake on Steve's part didn't mean a trend, like it did for some other people. So it was easy to crawl over, to swing her leg up over him and straddle his hips, leaning down to kiss him. Yeah. They were going to be fine. |