Steve Rogers (rogerthat) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-01-24 21:14:00 |
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Quentin wanted to say he wasn’t nervous, but that would be the biggest lie that he ever told himself. He was wearing a green button up shirt and jeans. Eliot had tried to push a vest at him, but he’d declined it. He didn’t think he needed a vest. He’d also turned down the tie because he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to need it. He didn’t want to be overdressed just walking around a museum. Even if he had allowed for a little less of his normal clothing choices. Mostly because he wanted Steve to see him in something that wasn’t oversized and really not all that flattering (according to Margo and Eliot). He guessed he usually just got a lot of grey or white or whatever. Sometimes olive green. Or blue. But he didn’t want to spend so much time considering what it was that he bought. He glanced over at Steve before looking back at the unicorn in front of him. “So…” It was stupid that he felt more awkward trying to talk to Steve now than he had before. He’d done this so easily before. “Have you ever seen anything like this? I mean, I guess you guys have a lot more alien invasions and Loki.” He looked back over at Steve again, trying to be less weird. This was probably why he’d never done dates before. Because he was terrible at this. “We had a few sort of similar things in Fillory. But I never saw a unicorn.” Steve didn’t have anyone give him fashion advice. Both on his date with Maya and his date with Quentin, he wore a plaid shirt. Buttoned up with a pocket on the breast. Khakis. The American Dream’s uniform. He did give Quentin a smile when he first saw him and told him he looked nice-- because they were right, Q was a little sloppy. Folding his arms, he gazed at the unicorn. “I’ve never seen anything like this, though. Loki had aliens, not mythical creatures. They probably exist in Asgard or something...” Wow, this was awkward. Steve nudged Quentin’s shoulder over to the next exhibit. It was a painting of one of the mermaids, breast feeding her child. “Well, that explains that.” Steve had a very unusual habit of looking good in pretty much anything he wore, which was probably because of the fact that he was him. Q didn’t know too much about the Norse gods in a mythological sense, but he knew a lot about the comics. Not everything, but enough. “Yeah. Gods just seem to have mythical creatures. Greeks had pegasi.” The next picture made him laugh. “Hey. This is that art imitating life shit.” Quentin looked at Steve and tried not to laugh again. “Are you saying you have never made a very detailed painting about a mermaid breastfeeding her child before? I thought that was like Art 101.” Yes, he was trying to use humor to make this feel less awkward. He moved a little closer. “You almost expect it to try to jump out at you. Like all the art should be secretly alive. We’re in Atlantis.” That made things magical. He guessed that moving art was more Harry Potter than Atlantis, however. “I think there’s a kraken eating a boat hanging art thing around here somewhere.” Quentin’s conspiratorial giggling had Steve smiling-- but trying hard not to. He brought one hand up to his mouth as if to rub his beard, but to cover a chuckle. “No, Q, I’ve never done that before, but I do believe I’m inspired now.” He followed closely behind Quentin, but not an intimate amount of closeness. Just a sticking-with-you vibe. Steve laced his fingers behind his back, “Atlantis usually have moving pictures? Is that something I didn’t know? Because Sam claims Atlantis has been found for awhile now.” “Show it to me when you’re done.” Quentin offered him a smile as he walked along. He was not exactly the most serious of people except when he was. Which was more when he was anxious or in one of his moods. “No. Hogwarts is, but I don’t know about Atlantis. Only what I saw in the movie, but even that might be questionable information.” He knew Fillory most of all. It was maybe useless knowledge here, but he didn’t mind. “A lot of things happen in the comics,” he said after a moment. “I haven’t managed to read all of them.” He looked down at the ground, feeling awkward again. “But that’s not really important.” And it wasn’t. He wasn’t sure if the fact that he read them and knew about Steve and most of the others beforehand made things more or less awkward. “I don’t really know a lot about art. Outside of comic books and the weird art at the castle in Fillory.” But things in Fillory were generally unusual. There was a sloth married to a man. “What got you into art?” He paused in front of the kraken piece, studying it a bit. “You’ll be the first to see it, Quentin,” he said shoving his hands into his pockets. Steve always had a bit of sass to him, even when he was skinny. When he got super soldier-fied, it just became charming to most people. Quentin was talking a lot and it made Steve reach out and grip Q’s forearm, “Hey, it’s just me, okay?” Why did making this a date change their dynamic? He wanted Quentin to act normal around him, not scared of him. It made him feel even more like a freak when people did that. When Quentin was just sweet Quentin, that’s when Steve could see himself on a date with the other man. “The MoMA. My mom took me there. But before that, I would draw on everything. My mom was a waitress, I’d draw on her order checks. Just before she died, she bought me a really nice sketchbook and I had that for a long time… Started going to school for art history and then the war happened…” Oh right, Steve’s from the ‘40s. What a nice reminder. Quentin tried not to be weird, but inevitably he had been. “I know. I know.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’m pretty sure I’m just...me.” But he was happy to know he’d be the first to see the mermaid art. “Sorry.” He really was going to have to focus on how to be a human being without slipping into his unhappy self. “You should give art school another chance if you haven’t already. If it makes you happy. It’s worth it, isn’t it?” As if Quentin was the authority on doing things that made him happy. This did, though. Wandering around to get food. “I was a literature student before Brakebills. I was going to an interview for grad school. Before that, I was in an institution. Basically up to the day before. I made it to the interview, but the guy that was supposed to interview me was dead. Then I ended up at Brakebills without even meaning to. And you know most of what happened after that. About me. There’s probably things I missed.” Steve stopped holding onto Quentin’s arm and let his arm drop. Back into his pockets his hands went, and he strolled behind Quentin onto the next exhibit. “Don’t be sorry. Please.” He was sick of people apologizing to him. “Maybe if we go back to Tumbleweed, if work allows it.” Steve would rather work and not think about things that reminded him of the past. Especially since anytime he went to draw, he was reminded of his mother, reminded of Bucky waking him up to go to class. Distraction, now. “Then why aren’t you going to school?” Steve asked with one eyebrow quirked. Quentin nodded, trying to focus on Steve. He wasn’t sure if he was even doing this right, but he didn’t want to come off as awkward as he felt like he must be. He’d never been great at human interaction. But he wanted to be, which was probably where the awkwardness was coming in. “I’m sort of self teaching. I’m hoping that someone from home will show up and be able to show us. But we have a lot of books at the Cottage. None of them are here, though. Just my Fillory books. I guess the universe wants me to have them.” He smiled a little. “I figured out how to turn the lizard back into a shirt, by the way. I’m working on new stuff. I’m sure I’ll be ready to show you even more things soon.” Steve’s lips made a thin line, “No, I meant literature.” He looked up at the next painting, it was pretty abstract and made him stare a little bit before seeing what was supposed to be seen. ...He thought. “Magic is good, but what about getting a job?” Now he sounded dad-like and he didn’t want that. Especially not now. Quentin paused, looking over at Steve for a moment. “Oh. I guess I didn’t think about it.” He wondered idly if he wanted to go back. Maybe he would, but it felt strange to go back after magic. But he guessed, if nothing else, he could maybe consider it. Magic maybe didn’t get you jobs here. And then Steve asked him about a job and he felt the top of his ears heat up. He hadn’t tried to get a job, but then everything seemed so much. He probably needed to figure out what he wanted to do. “I...guess I haven’t thought about it a lot. I had an office job once, but it was kind of awful. I did fine, but I didn’t want to be there really. It was an in between because I couldn’t have what I wanted for a while and I was...I guess being me.” He looked at Steve for a moment. “I guess I could be a professor for literature or creative writing or something.” He wasn’t sure. Maybe he wouldn’t be good at it. “You don’t need a degree to be a professor. Oddly enough.” Steve was doing almost the same as Quentin was doing with magic. He was working in the military-- something he already knew, instead of doing something good with his life. Okay, so, maybe the opposite of Quentin. Steve’s expression softened, “I’m sorry, you don’t need to do anything. If doing magic makes you happy, then keep doing that. Keep studying that. Maybe there’s a job for it and we just don’t know about it yet.” He reached out again, this time to squeeze Quentin’s shoulder. He kept finding reasons to touch him, he wasn’t sure why. “Maybe.” But Quentin relaxed a little when he felt Steve’s hand on his shoulder. He didn’t want to feel like a mess who didn’t know what he was doing. “I’d probably be better in a bookstore or a library anyway,” he said with a small laugh. He looked at Steve for a moment. “Can we try this but a bit less awkwardly? I know I probably started the awkwardness. I know you’re just you. I’ll try to be better.” Which meant he should try to think of something. “Tell me anything you want about you or art or anything. I’m pretty sure there’s more to your general interests than art and dancing with awkward boys with long hair and emotional problems.” “A library wouldn’t be so bad. Quiet, surrounded by books… actually, libraries are mostly used for their printers nowadays, aren’t they?” Steve mused. He pointed one finger up and tried again, “Book store, that might actually be something, people want to build their own libraries.” There was Q saying he was awkward again. “Stoooop.” Steve smiled and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t really know what interests me anymore, Quentin. I don’t belong here.” “Guess I better find a bookstore then. I don’t really have the face for horn-rimmed glasses anyway. My life as a librarian would be obsolete without them.” He wasn’t sure if that was necessarily as amusing as he thought it was, but he was trying to make a joke to lighten the mood. “But I totally have the open button up shirt over a t-shirt thing, so I can probably manage a bookstore.” There was a hint of a frown at Steve’s words. “I don’t know what that’s like. The time factor, I mean. I get not belonging.” He paused, thinking something over for a minute. “I guess you just have to find your Fillory books.” The thing that would prove he was pulling himself out from whatever he was dealing with. “Or we can just try a bunch of things until something sticks.” He paused for a moment. “I can also tell you about some of the truly horrible dance routines my best friend and I made up when we were younger to distract you. Brace yourself for true horror.” He was smiling, though. They were good memories even if it made him miss Julia even more. He wanted his best friend again. Steve looked down at his feet and then peeked up at Quentin, “I don’t know, I think glasses would suit you.” He went back to shoe-gazing, wondering what it meant to belong. The only people who knew what it was like were Bucky(s) and Peggy. He wasn’t completely alone, he only felt that way. Steve was letting himself feel that way, when he was surrounded by people who wanted to help him fit in. Who he fit in with, without realizing it. “The stuff on the boat and here in Atlantis aren’t really hobbies that are going to carry over if we return to Tumbleweed, or if I return to Wakanda,” Steve muttered. When the dance moves were brought up, his smile was lopsided. “Sure, tell me about them.” Quentin was struck by how strangely human Steve was. He also noted that this somehow was attractive, but mostly it was more obvious that they were similar in some aspects now than it usually was. Which felt really odd. He was used to being the moderately socially maladjusted one. “I’ll try them on, then. For you. I don’t really need them, but I can always get the fake lenses. God. That would make me such a hipster. I’m not sure that is a positive.” There was definitely that vision of them being really similar again. What Quentin lacked in optimism for himself, he made up in optimism for other people. “I think I’m supposed to tell you that living in the moment is what we have to focus on.” But that smile was worth all the embarrassment that was going to follow. “Well, we did this one dance to Ayo Technology by Justin Timberlake that was basically just a lot of hip thrusting. It was pretty terrible. I seem to remember a lot of Justin Timberlake songs with a lot of really bad dance moves. Britney Spears, too. Yeah, we just made a lot of really bad dance routines.” He looked around at a few of the exhibits. All of these things were things that existed somewhere. “I can demonstrate, but probably not in the museum.” He glanced around again. “Well, I guess I can. Who are these people anyway? I can probably embarrass myself in front of them. It’s not like I’ll ever see them again once we leave Atlantis.” Steve laughed and shook his head, “Brooklyn is full of hipsters now. It’s damn near $18 to get a coffee.” He was exaggerating for Quentin’s amusement. He liked it better when the other man smiled. It broke his heart to see that face looking lost. “Yeah, everyone keeps telling me to live for now. I just can’t seem to do that.” He sighed, annoyed with himself and everyone who thought it was easy for him to adjust. “What’s your friend’s name again? I’m sorry she’s not here. You-- you’re going to dance in here?” He started to smile, and then he backed up. With one hand, he gestured. “Go on, Quentin, get it, as they say.” “Yeah. It’s definitely full of them. Fucking coffee prices are the worst.” He was definitely laughing at that moment because it was ridiculous. “I have to live in New York.” Which, he realized, Steve probably did, too. “There could have been a universe where we lived in the same place at the same time. Insane, right?” It was easy to be amused when there weren’t serious topics at hand. They were just joking about hipsters and expensive coffee. “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m here to entertain until you figure it out.” His smile turned a little sad. “Julia. We’ve been best friends since we were kids.” He had had feelings for her once, but he knew they’d never have worked. They were friends. Friends were just as good. It just took him awhile to realize it. “Hey. I am on vacation. Whatever happens here probably doesn’t stay here, but whatever.” He pretended to stretch like it was a very serious thing. It probably looked less ridiculous without Julia there at that moment, but he was going to do it anyway. Which meant singing Justin Timberlake and dancing. By the time he was done (which didn’t really take that long because they’d only made part of a dance), he was laughing, mostly at himself, but also at the faces of the people in the museum. Julia would have probably been embarrassed for him, but at this point, he wasn’t sure he could be classified as anything outside of embarrassing. “Very attractive as you can see. It’s definitely a mystery as to why I don’t have a line of people trying to date me.” “I’m from Brooklyn. My whole life I lived there, except for when I was frozen… and when I was in DC…” Steve rubbed his beard, considering that. “And when I went to Wakanda to live. So… most of my life?” He waved his hand back and forth, palm down. “Maybe,” was his answer to Quentin thinking they might have been in the same place at the same time. “Yeah, Bucky’s my Julia.” Then Q decided it was time to dance. Steve watched Quentin, a small smile leading into a full on guffaw. He put a hand over his heart, not laughing at Quentin, but with him? “How old were you when you came up with that?” It was weird that the comics and the movies had things in common and yet things that were so different. He didn’t mention that, though. “Never been to Wakanda myself, but it sounds nice.” At least he was pretty sure that he’d have been in awe of Wakanda. Especially if it was as awesome as it looked. “I’ve lived in New York since forever. I guess I’m still there, but at Brakebills.” That made sense. He knew what it was like to be Steve. He hoped maybe he’d find a way to get to the part where they were friends and that was just as good without it being painful. If that was what he wanted. He understood if things were complicated and he wasn’t going to assume this was going to be something that lasted. “Tenth grade,” Quentin admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling sheepishly. “It was pretty bad. So bad.” He shrugged, though. “So compared to that, dancing with you was the least terrible I’ve been at dancing, but slow dancing doesn’t really take too much skill, I guess. Pretty sure I’ve attempted weird tango dances that I didn’t take seriously, but I can’t remember at the moment.” “It was beautiful,” Steve said a little sadly. He was glad T’Challa took them in, but Bucky went into cryo and he lost him again. He just kept losing him. “Where is Brakebills? Upstate?” Steve wasn’t quite sure what this date meant, he was still sort of oblivious to the fact that Quentin said he liked him. He didn’t understand dating really much at all, when he was waiting for one specific person. He was stupidly old fashioned. But he was breaking out of it with these dates, Maya and Quentin. Steve was going to adapt. “No, slow dancing doesn’t take much skill, which is why I can do it.” He looked up at the painting in front of them. “Do you want to go down to the beach now?” “Along the Hudson? Somewhere. I don’t know the exact location, but I know how to get back to it.” He shrugged. It was definitely weird not to know exactly where something was, but then this was magic. Magic did weird things like that. There was a pause before Q nodded. “Yeah. We can definitely go to the beach.” Being in Atlantis meant he’d actually been to the beach. Usually on his own, but he thought maybe it would be better with people. “Haven’t actually been there with anyone else yet.” He shrugged. “And I don’t remember going to the beach that much before now.” So going with Steve would be nice. Even if he felt like he should be in a bathing suit on the beach. He was probably good, though. He considered something for a moment before holding out his hand. “Come on.” “The Hudson… why don’t you vague that up a bit for me, Q?” Steve smiled, but it soft and playful. It was getting dark out and Steve thought it would be kind of nice, the air would be cooler, the water would sound nice… Maybe even romantic? Whoa there, buddy. Steve hesitated. Then he took Quentin’s hand and gripped. “Lead the way.” |