The World Keeps Changing

Chapter 18

I slipped quietly out of Bruce's room, leaving Hulk to sleep and I rode the elevator down to the common floor. I was stone sober now and hungry, and cheesy scrambled eggs with toast sounded like the perfect remedy for everything. That's where Steve found me, setting my plate in the sink. "Hey, Steve. You hungry?"

He shook his head. "Buck and I both heard," he started.

"Steve, I'm not interested in you apologizing for your friend." I said, heading for the elevator.

"I'm not here to apologize for Bucky." He followed me into the elevator. "I'm here to apologize for me."

I looked at him, confused as I pushed the button for my floor. "What?"

"I didn't know you thought that I only got closer to you because I felt bad about what happened between you and Bucky. I'm not uncomfortable around you, Cookie."

"Steve, how am I not supposed to think that?" We'd gotten closer over the few weeks since the pub, but even with Bucky not around, alone or with the group, he was stiff with me, like he was afraid of me. "You say goodnight and then all but run away from me. You seem to want me to sit by you on movie night, but you sit like a statue, arm not even touching me, like I make you uncomfortable. We danced tonight and you acted like you couldn't bear to touch my skin- or that my scars repulsed you, I can't tell which." He was shaking his head, but didn't interrupt me. "What the hell am I supposed to think when you touch me like it's not something you actually want to do?"

"Because I might not stop if I do," he blurted.

I looked at him incredulously. "What?"

He groaned. "I don't know how to explain this..." He rubbed across his chest with one hand. "I'm not uncomfortable, I'm too comfortable around you. I wanna touch you all the time, Cookie. I want to wrap you around me like a blanket. Ever since that night."

I thought for a second. "When you, Bucky and I slept together?"

He nodded. "But, I didn't want Bucky to- ," he saw my frown and shook his head. "Nono, I know now that isn't right and you don't think like that... and I didn't want you to think..." He groaned again. "I just enjoy being close to you, Cookie. What is it you call it... Skinship? I've never felt like this with someone in my entire life. I don't know how to explain it. That you can just exist in my space, and don't want anything from me. No demands. No expectations. It just feels good touching you, and when you touch me."

He followed me again off the elevator. "People have asked me out since I've been back, but it feels wrong. They don't want me, Stevie, the kid from Brooklyn. They want Captain America," he looked down at himself, "they want this," he clutched at his chest. "Not me. Just this body. They were like that sometimes back then, too." His palm rubbed across his chest, harder than before, something I'd seen him do on rare occasions before tonight, and I suddenly recognized it now as a self-soothing gesture.

I stopped there in the hall and looked up at him. I'd seen it downstairs. Women, and men, watching him come back from his morning run, looking at him like he was naked. It was something I understood. To have someone look at you like you're not in there. Like they would be just as happy if there was a sex doll they could buy that looked like you. "It feels gross, doesn't it?" I said softly.

"You've never made me feel like that. When you lean on me, or that thing you do when you just bump my shoulder with your head. When we were at the pub that night, it felt so natural. At the end, when you were laughing again, and we danced, and you were still singing that silly song on the way home. It felt like the end of a date, but you didn't seem remotely bothered when I just kissed your head and said goodnight. No change in your breath, no racing heart because you wanted more. It made me want to stay so bad I think I panicked." He reached down and took my hand. "Nobody has ever just accepted me like that, except Buck. Not even Peggy. Everybody wants something from me. You don't. You just let me exist, however I am."