Steve has always had a big mouth. It's not that he likes to talk, it's just that a lot of the time he can't stop himself. Steve wasn't always an innocent bystander when bullies selected him, personally, to target. A lot of the time, he lashed out with his tongue before anyone's fists came into play. Not that that made it right or okay, but being able to say he brought it on himself sure makes him feel better. Never a victim, always a participant.
He has a big mouth, and big ideas, and sometimes the two characteristics coincide and he finds people listening to him like the Word of God issues forth from his mouth. Or, in Tony's case, like he's dragged shadows out of his brain and spun them into a solid form. He wants to reach out and soothe him, but that doesn't work so well, from what he's seen. Steve is tactile by nature. Tony, even under all his quirks and traumas, is not.
He'd like to comfort or reassure him, but he has no idea how, or whether he would even accept it.
"That, and the whole 'just about died to save New York' thing, you mean." Steve rests his elbow on the counter, chin on his hand, watching with a softer look in his eyes.
"It's the worst moments of our lives that leave the most indelible marks on us," he adds. "And we keep quiet about it as much as we can, because no good ever comes of anyone seeing us struggle."
That may be him drawing more parallels between himself and Tony, or it may just be a general observation on the nature of humanity. "But I'm honored that the last thought on your mind was 'Take that, Rogers'. I would have definitely felt like shit. Kinda did anyway."
Kinda still do.
As long as they're still in a confessional mood: "Did you really hate me that much when you were growing up?"
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Date: 2018-06-20 05:50 pm (UTC)He has a big mouth, and big ideas, and sometimes the two characteristics coincide and he finds people listening to him like the Word of God issues forth from his mouth. Or, in Tony's case, like he's dragged shadows out of his brain and spun them into a solid form. He wants to reach out and soothe him, but that doesn't work so well, from what he's seen. Steve is tactile by nature. Tony, even under all his quirks and traumas, is not.
He'd like to comfort or reassure him, but he has no idea how, or whether he would even accept it.
"That, and the whole 'just about died to save New York' thing, you mean." Steve rests his elbow on the counter, chin on his hand, watching with a softer look in his eyes.
"It's the worst moments of our lives that leave the most indelible marks on us," he adds. "And we keep quiet about it as much as we can, because no good ever comes of anyone seeing us struggle."
That may be him drawing more parallels between himself and Tony, or it may just be a general observation on the nature of humanity. "But I'm honored that the last thought on your mind was 'Take that, Rogers'. I would have definitely felt like shit. Kinda did anyway."
Kinda still do.
As long as they're still in a confessional mood: "Did you really hate me that much when you were growing up?"