How to Piss Off A Super Soldier. By: Thor Odinson

How to Drunkenly Be Pulled Out of the Closet. By: Steve G. Rogers

A Prologue

Steve bounced on the heels of his feet, one of the many interviews starting. He honestly hated the interviewing process, he knew they saw him as more of an object of patriotism vs. an actual man, with flaws and nervous habits. He just didn't want to disappoint them.

Tony was backstage with him, each of the avengers taking their turns with the interviewer. The inventor had already gone and friggin' nailed it. Of course he has had no issues when it came to media before. He looked down at his teammate and frowned. Tony knew that look. It was the 'god, I won't be good enough' look. He knew due to all of the times he wore it as a child, teenager, and an adult, always expected to overachieve.

"Try this." He said, handing him a bottle of wine he brought for this reason alone. Steve didn't take a second to remark that he couldn't even get drunk and simply chugged the entire thing, groaning and getting to his feet.

"That's not how you- never mind." Tony said, setting the wine glass to the side. He was going to tell him to be careful with it because it was possibly the richest wine in the world that him and Bruce created for the challenge of seeing what Thor and Steve were like drunk. If Clint drank that entire bottle like Steve just did he would be dead right now.

The blond grunted and ran a hand through his hair, gripping it and letting go. "Thanks..." He mumbled, blinking a bit before walking out when his name was called, Thor flashing him a smile and wink as he walked out, making him blush like a madman.

"And here we have the star spangled man himself, Steve Rogers. Or would you prefer captain?" The interviewer asked, the young woman giving him a large smile. "Steve is fine." He said, smiling right back at her.

So far the interview was going well, then of course the question was asked. "Is there any special lady in your life yet?" He thought for a second and shook his head, "not since... Well ever really. I just suppose I haven't been able to find that one I guess... not in this time at least." He said, giving her a nervous smile. "Any fellas?" She asked as a small joke. "No... No. Not since '39 at least..." He said, not even under his breath and right into the mic.

She looked like she would've done a spit take if there was water.

"Are you saying there's been fellas?"

"There's been fellas, there's been dames... Not that either stayed around for long..." He muttered, his mind spinning out of control, 'what are you DOING?! Stop talking!!'

"Well I mean... Th-that was a joke I mean! Obviously! I mean just cause all of the schoolboys called me a queer doesn't I am one. I mean..." He hid his face in his arms, slamming it down on the counter. He took a deep breath in. God he probably just spewed some of the most offensive things. He could already see the hate mail. "I'm a mess... I'm sorry." He whispered, running a hand over his face. "It's just like... I can't stop running my mouth. I must sound like an idiot. I promise in not actually like this." He stammered.

The interviewer, who had gone out of her temporary shock, gulped. "You're just nervous, that's alright." She coaxed him gently, looking at him, "and if you're gay or bi or straight or whatever that isn't a problem." She said, giving him a less confident smile. "Yes it's a problem, of course it is a problem." He took a deep breath and explained, "I'm supposed to be this amazing political figure and... I just don't hold up. Not in reality... I'm not that guy... I'm a human being with flaws and imperfections and... Gay tendencies... I'm not a poster." He said, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry I wasted your time darling... I can't do this." He said, standing up running out of the recording studio then out of the building. In fact he managed to run all the way back to Stark Tower, locking himself in his room,