Call It What You Want: Home Series 1 (Trans!Steve and Pan!Bucky Summer AU)

Thirteen

Brock had a smirk on his smug face as he removed his hand from the light switch panel. Arrogantly, he crossed his arms along his chest and teased, "Midnight snack?"

"Duh," Natasha replied, moving over to search through the seafoam green cupboards. Finding dishes, Natasha asked, "Got anything good?"

"We were just gonna make some pizza rolls," Sam cheerily stated, entering the kitchen first. Walking by Natasha and Steve to get to the double door refrigerator on the other side of the room towards the kitchen table. Opening the freezer side, he grabbed a large bag of pizza rolls and offered the pair, "You in?"

"Sure," Natasha agreed while Steve nodded his own agreement, trying to be discreet as he crossed his arms along his chest.

Sam seemed almost surprised by their answers and happily made his way over to the oven. Preheating it while opening the bag and distributing the whole bag onto a baking sheet. Once he was done with that, he turned around to face Steve and Natasha. Leaning against the counter and crossing his arms along his still bare chest.

"So," Brock started, breaking the silence, gaining the rooms' attention. Steve uncomfortably shifted in his spot when he found Brock looking at him. With a quirked brow, Brock asked Steve, "Disney fan?"

"Who isn't?" Clint scoffed, pushing past Brock to enter the kitchen. Clint smiled at both Natasha and Steve, earning a small grin from Steve while Natasha playfully narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion.

Looking down at his chunky socks, Steve heard Brock question, "Do you talk? Like, at all?"

Steve glanced up then and noticed Brock was staring at him with furrowed brows. As though Brock was trying to figure Steve out. And suddenly, Steve felt ill. His stomach was doing flips, his heart was starting to race, and his palms were starting to sweat. All Steve really wanted to do was hurry back to the guest room.

"Maybe he just doesn't want to talk to you," Bucky suggested, walking around Brock and into the room. Passing by Steve, he looked up to give him a small, apologetic smile.

Pressing his lips together, Steve tried not to smile too big. Sure, Steve could fight his own battles, but Steve also occasionally appreciated someone standing up for him. Especially when Steve wasn't feeling as confident without his binder.

"We have a strict no-asshole policy," Natasha sassed, causing Steve to chuckle as he ducked his head, so no one could see just how red his face was currently.

"Hey," Brock complained, softly chuckling.

Natasha shrugged and headed over to the fridge and scrounged around as though she owned the place. And since Natasha felt comfortable, Steve decided to ease. Just a little. Maybe he'd relax more if he didn't feel so completely exposed standing there with his arms over his chest in his desperate attempt to not draw any attention there.

"You want one?" Natasha asked, holding out a bottle of water.

Steve nodded, but before he could answer, Brock teased, "I'd love a coke, thanks."

"Then you should get yourself one," Natasha scoffed, setting the bottled water on the counter and opening a cupboard, "Cups?"

"Above the sink," Sam replied, gesturing in the direction of where the cups were located.

"Thanks," Natasha said, moving over to the sink and opening the cupboards there. Grabbing two plastic pink cups, Natasha set them on the counter as well.

Once the water was poured into the two cups, Natasha turned around to hand one to Steve. Before Steve could take it though, Brock intercepted and took the cup for himself. As he walked over to the table where the other boys were sitting, Natasha watched him with narrowed eyes. And boy, was Steve glad that he wasn't Brock.

While Brock slid along the black and white striped bench, Sam grabbed another water from the fridge and handed it to Steve. Softly, Steve squeaked, "Thanks."

"No problem," Sam grinned. Teasing, he added, "Don't mind him."

"Yeah, his mom's disappointed in him too," Clint joked from his seat between Brock and Bucky.

"That's why I'm here all the time," Brock explained with a large, toothy grin on his face as he lifted the pink cup to his lips. Maintaining eye contact with Steve as he took a slow drink. Once done drinking the water, Brock set the cup down on the table and smacked his lips together, causing a chill to run down Steve's spine.

"How lucky for your mom," Natasha deadpanned, nudging Steve and regaining his attention as she handed Steve a plastic teal cup. With cup in hand, Steve turned around to face the island as he started pouring his own water. Natasha pondered, "What's your address, so I can spend my summer there where it'll be Brock-free."

"Right, that's the reason why you want my address," Brock scoffed and joked, "You sure you're not trying to stalk me instead?"

"Damn, ya caught me," Natasha stated indifferently as she crossed the room, taking a seat in the red chair in front of Brock. She continued, "And here I was, thinking that I was playing it cool."

Since Natasha was sitting at the table, Steve started heading that way too. However, within taking a few steps, Steve was suddenly conscious of himself. Hoping that no one was looking at him, but not feeling confident enough to glance up to see if anyone actually was. Instead, keeping his gaze downcast. Sure, his fleece shorts and red sleep shirt covered everything that Steve wanted to keep covered. And although Steve had been considered "flat-chested" when he was presenting as a girl, he was still aware that he didn't have the chest that he desired.

Taking a seat next to Natasha in a yellow frame chair with a floral cushion, Steve tried to sit at an angle where the faded red material seemed baggier. Finding the best position with him resting his forearms on the table, holding the cup of water, so that he seemed more concave.

"So, what do you do for fun around here?" Natasha questioned as Sam pulled out the teal chair on the other side of her.

"Probably the same that you do back home," Sam chuckled, a sound that was welcoming and possessed a familiarity in it that felt like home.

"Doubtful," Natasha scoffed, a smirk tugging at her lips in a silent challenge.