|Don't Stop Now
Author: Lokitty-the-Fluffy PM
Steve has finally found a girl. Funny, cute, and caring. Unfortunately for him, she also happens to be pierced, inked, and rebellious as hell - Not to mention, Canadian. But the question is, how much do outer appearances really weigh when it comes to love? - Steve/OC - Hints of Clint/Natasha and Loki/Tony - Strong language throughoutRated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Captain America/Steve R. - Chapters: 3 - Words: 7,216 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 14 - Follows: 22 - Updated: 10-18-12 - Published: 08-02-12 - id: 8385126
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Steve hated everything about Tony's parties. He hated the music, loud and obnoxious and hardly worthy of even being called music. He hated the atmosphere, all sex, money and fame. He hated the pronounced feeling of alienation, that he simply didn't belong there. But most of all, he hated that Tony always insisted on him going to them.
"It'll help you adjust," Tony claimed when he protested, and, without fail, he managed to get him to suffer through every single Goddamn party he held. They didn't help him adjust; they took the existing estrangement and just made it worse. He had no idea how people in modern society acted, or how he felt about being there. It was all in all a very uncomfortable, awkward, difficult mess. Unfortunately for Steve, it was also ridiculously entertaining for Tony to watch.
"Are you sure I should be here?" he asked in a worried tone, fighting back the urge to sneak away. "I mean, it's all just really-"
"Chill out, Cap," he paused for a moment and smiled at the unintentional pun. "I mean, you've done it for seventy years, you should finally shed that icy exterior of yours," he further explained, giving him a smirk and a clap on the back with his free hand, the other draped lazily on a woman's hip. She snuggled into his side and batted her eyelashes at him, and the soldier couldn't help but feel bad for the poor girl. It was obvious even to him that she would be gone by morning.
"Can it be later?" he muttered under his breath, avoiding looking the girl in the eye.
"No, it can't. Go sit with the other California Girls why don't you?" The girl was gone and replaced a moment later by a scotch on the rocks. "I refuse to let you leave until you've at least picked up an above average girl. It's my patriotic duty to get you laid."
Steve glared at him through his embarrassment, wrestling against the urge to punch him in the jaw.
"You're really not helping,"
"Look, its ridiculously easy, even for someone stuck in the time warp. Here's a great pickup line, consider it a gift: 'Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Hey, I was probably hard from the ice, but I'm Captain-fucking-America; let's have sex.',"
He started, giving Tony a disapproving and disbelieving look once he regained his composure.
"Tony! There are ladies here, don't swear like that!" he hissed in the sort of tone parents did when they wanted their kids to behave. The playboy billionaire rolled his brown eyes skyward and gave him a long-suffering look.
"I'm not gonna waste the night trying to convince you to get laid, so I'm just gonna leave you here and hope you fumble into a woman easy enough to screw you from a hello," with a smile and another harder-than-necessary slap on his back, Tony left him to flounder in panic. Steve sighed, leaning his elbows on the bar and rubbing his eyes tiredly, attempting to ward off the growing headache the music and strobe lights were giving him. He really didn't belong in a place like that. He really didn't belong in that time period. Who was Tony kidding? He wasn't going to fit in, he wasn't going to acclimatize, and he certainly wasn't going to have casual sex like he wanted him to. It just wasn't how he was raised. Wearily, he glanced to his right and started. A girl sat nearby on a bar stool, her six-inch-heel ankle boots dangling off the ground and her slender, ring coated fingers closed around a shot glass. She wore hip-hugging jeans and a thin grey-and-white striped sweater over a black tank top.
He wasn't quite sure if it was the strobe lights or not, but her hair appeared to be purple.
She looked over at him, then, and he bit back a gasp at her face. It was startling, at least to him. A small stud glinted on the right of her nose, and rings were visible on both of her eyebrows. Her ears were each adorned with six piercings, and her plump lips had a double piercing on the lower. Her right cheekbone was tattood with two stars, and black and navy liner and eye shadow rimmed her eyes. He swallowed, not quite sure how to react to that much metal, makeup and ink on one person's relatively small, innocent face.
"Something interesting you, buddy?" she said in an even tone, amusement in her voice. He blinked, trying to remember how to speak. And how to not look at her piercings and not her eyes.
"Wh- Uh, no. No, no I was just, um..." don't look at her piercings don't look at her piercings don't look at her piercings don't look at her-
"Just wondering; you keep looking at my piercings,"
"Ah- Sorry, ma'am. I, uh... Yeah,"
Smooth Steve, real smooth.
"You're forgiven," she rolled her eyes but a smile twitched her dark red lips.
Before he could say anything more, a blonde woman with a startlingly short skirt bounced (or, more accurately, stumbled) over to him, batting her eyelashes and leaning (tipping) forward in her low-cut blue shirt.
"Are you Steve Rogers?" she asked (slurred) in a high voice, hair tousled and falling in messy waves over her shoulders.
"Yes, ma'am, I am," he replied hesitantly, debating on sitting her down on one of the couches and telling her everything would be alright. She gave an excited little squeal and latched onto his arm, beaming at him with unnaturally white teeth.
"Tony told me to find you!" she cooed. "I'm Alyssa. So um... What brings a cute guy like you to one of Tony's parties? Are you, like, his friend or something?" He shuffled uneasily, deeply uncomfortable but at the same time not wanting to hurt her feelings. He reluctantly allowed her to cling onto his bicep and gave her a weak attempt at a smile.
"I'm, uh, one of his teammates,"
"Well, I'm glad you came. A little eye candy goes a long way, you know," she winked at him, and he cast a panicked look in Tony's direction. He grinned back deviously.
"Uh, heh... Thanks," Her olive-green eyes drifted to his empty hands and arched a brow at that.
"Aren't you going to buy yourself a drink?"
"I don't drink," he replied. There was amusement in his voice, and he couldn't help smiling a the joke only he and the Avengers understood.
"Then you should buy me one!" she giggled, stroking his chest playfully. He flushed bright red and she took advantage, smiling at him, biting her lip as she did. "Or, you know, don't. I'm probably too drunk now, anyway. So how long are you staying here?"
"Uh, T-Tony said something about not letting me leave until he's satisfied with how many women I've talked to," he chuckled nervously. She leaned forward, pressing her chest against his.
"Or maybe go just far enough with the right one," she winked. He blushed furiously and she giggled, wrapping her arms around his waist with a sly smile on her lips. Panicking, his eyes darted around the room for something - anything - to distract her with. When he happened a glance at the girl on the bar stool, he was surprised to see her watching with an amused expression on her face, lips curved into a smile, cheek resting on her hand. He gave her a pleading look, and she smiled back, downing the last of her drink before hopping off the stool and squealing loudly.
"Lissy!" she shrieked in an overly excited tone, waving energetically at Alyssa. She looked over, shocked, then burst out in an equally loud noise, releasing Steve and opened her arms, meeting her halfway in a tight hug. He took a relieved breath, wiping his only-slightly-sweaty palms on his pants.
"Hey, girl!" she said, leaning back with her hands on her friend's shoulders, looking her up and down. "You look great!"
"Oh, thanks! You too!" she gushed, giving Steve a pointed look while the blonde was distracted. He took the hint and came over.
"You two know each other?" he asked. Alyssa nodded.
"We met at a concert a while back - She's one of my BFFs!"
"Lissy, we need to hang out, okay?"
"Yes yes yes! Text me!" she bounced excitedly, clapping her hand together. He gaped, blinking in astonishment. How could one woman make so much unnecessary noise? The other girl caught the look and grinned, then turned her attention back to her drunk friend.
"So, um, how about you go hang out with Tony?" she said delicately, taking the smallest step back and giving Steve a little, slightly possessive, nudge. He glanced at her in surprise and she gave him a pointed scowl; He realized what she was doing, then, and tried to look bashful. Thankfully, he was very good at that.
"Oh..." she said. Then her eyes widened. "OH! Oh my God, I am so sorry, I totally didn't know! Okay, I'll see you later, then," she leaned forward and kissed both of her cheeks before retreating with an apologetic smile. "Sorry!" she repeated before disappearing in the crowd, presumably off to find the host. He looked down at her, then, and noticed just how small she was. She couldn't have been over five-one. His miniscule rescuer turned her dark eyes to his and smiled.
"You're welcome," she said brightly, taking a seat on the leather bar stool and smiling at him.
"Thank you," he said too late with a grateful - and very weary - sigh. "I had no idea what to do,"
"Clearly not; She was practically undressing for you," she said cheerfully, resting her toes on the crossbeam between the stool's legs as he sat on the bar stool beside hers. His grimace was slightly aghast.
"Was she? Yeesh..."
"You seem to be the most reluctant guy to get laid here, do you know that? Even that guy over there is getting some tonight," she nodded in the direction of a very large man who Steve immediately noticed as Thor in casual clothes, dancing like a madman, and he bit back a laugh. Thor had taken a shine to Tony's parties, much to the billionaire's pleasure. He was determined to learn every possible method of dancing, and had currently started experimenting with something Tony had called "grinding" which Steve really didn't want to know the details of based on its name.
"Yeah, well, I'm not here for, uh... That," he said with a sheepish smile after tearing his eyes off of the only slightly scarring image of the god of thunder grinding on the dance floor. "Call me old-fashioned," he added as an afterthought, shrugging slightly.
"You're not looking for a one-night stand at a Tony Stark party?" she gave him a disbelieving glance, her eyes flickering up and down his form, making him self-conscious. He briefly suspected she had x-ray vision, going by the way she smirked at him when she was finished. "You really are out of place,"
"Tell me about it," he sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly and leaning his elbows on the cold marble top of the bar.
"Why not leave?" she piped up after a moment or two, sounding amused, still.
"There's something I've been asking myself all night. But I don't think Tony'll let me go until he's convinced I 'got some', as he likes to put it,"
She gave him a studying look, a calculating frown on her face. His eyes drifted in her direction as she appraised him, and he raised an eyebrow at her expression. She was very... intent.
"You should've let Lissy have sex with you," she said decidedly after a few minutes. He stared at her, flushing. She stared back evenly, without emotion.
"No, I don't think I'll be doing that," he said finally with a nervous half-chuckle. She quirked a brow at that.
"It's just sex, and if it's your get out of jail free card, so to speak, then why not?"
"Just se-? It's not just- How can you say it's 'Just sex'?"
"Oh, please. It's a penis in a vagina, don't try to romanticize it," she said calmly with a roll of her eyes and a dismissive wave of her hand, prompting his face to turn dark red. He hadn't expected her to be so blunt about it.
"Well, I guess I just really don't look at it the same way as you do," he said carefully and somewhat bitterly, turning his sights to the suddenly very interesting patterns in the marble bar. She cocked her head to the side, keeping her eyes on him.
"Are you telling me you're a virgin?" she said with a disbelieving expression. He frowned, pursing his lips slightly.
"Pardon me, ma'am, but I don't think that's any of your business," he retorted defensively. She made a face at the "Ma'am", but quickly became interested.
"Holy shit, you are! How old are you?" she demanded, appearing to be thrilled with this news.
"You don't want me to answer that," he replied a minute later, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a private smile.
"Well you're definitely too old to be a virgin. You should be a virgout by now," she said with a corny grin, glancing at him sideways as she turned her small body on her seat to face the bar.
"Clever," he said sarcastically, but his laugh was genuine. She beamed at him. "I don't think I caught your name,"
"I didn't catch yours, either," she countered sharply, but she was smiling. He liked her smile, he decided. It made her look much less scary.
"Sorry; Steve Rogers, at your service," he offered a half-smile, extending his hand to her. She gave his hand a quizzical look before shaking it.
"Victoria May. So... You're Captain America, then?"
"How'd you know?" he asked, blinking. She gave him a playful smile, and a knot twisted uncomfortably in his chest. What had he asked, again?
"Well..." she mused. "It's really not all that difficult to figure out. Besides, there's a plaque with your name on it in Central Park that sort of takes away what little mystery there was to begin with,"