for podchinyatsya

[gotup]

[ Steve doesn't make a habit of things like Googling himself (which sounds dirty, honestly) or checking his Wikipedia page. After all, he already knows about himself; he doesn't need to check up on the facts.

Except then one day, Sam asks him about the Yankees. And he knows Sam's aware that he doesn't like the Yankees; they've watched enough baseball together (even though Sam's a Mets fan). He gives Sam a funny look, and the other man laughs and shakes his head.

The next day, Wanda asks him why he always says he's just a kid from Brooklyn. He's obviously from Queens, doesn't he know that? What's the difference between the two? Is he sure he wasn't born somewhere else?

The day after that, T'Challa, of all people, asks him if it's true that his tears can be used to summon bald eagles. 'One of the Dora Milaje read it online,' is his excuse, but Steve's pretty sure he's just using his bodyguards as convenient scapegoats to save face.

He grabs his phone and types a search 'steve rogers tears bald eagles' and the first result (after about twenty shitty Photoshops) is Wikipedia.

Wikipedia! He'd taken the site's information as gospel truth, and so his first assumption is that someone must have hacked it. And, of course, there's only one person with the technological know-how to do that. ]

Bucky! [ He looks up from his phone, a crease of distress between his eyebrows. ] Tony's hacked Wikipedia, you oughta see the stuff it says about me.

Comments

[gotup]

Hold on, I'll get a bottle to catch it. No sense in wasting perfectly good beer.

[ Not now that he can actually drink it without puking all over his shoes after one drink, anyway. ]

[podchinyatsya]

That's gross, Steve.

[ Drinking someone else's tears. ]

[gotup]

Hey, look, you're the one crying beer. It's not like I'm licking it from your face or anything.

[ what are you even talking about, Steve? ]

[podchinyatsya]

...Don't make me whack you again.

[gotup]

It's not a matter of whether you will, it's a matter of when.

[podchinyatsya]

[ Ain't that the truth. ]

Got me there.

[gotup]

Hey, you gonna change my Wikipedia page back? I don't want one of T'Challa's bodyguards trying to make me cry cause she wants to see a bald eagle. They could probably all do it, too.

[ Plus this blasphemy about the Yankees. That's the most important part. ]

[podchinyatsya]

[ He smiles, a bright, warm thing. ]

Yes, Steve, I'll change it back. Even though I'd pay good money to see one of those ladies bend you in half til a flock of bald eagles swooped in.

[gotup]

[ The smile reminds him of before. Before all this shit happened, before they became who they are now. It simultaneously warms him and makes his heart ache a little. ]

Some pal you are. [ He huffs, pushing himself back up into a sitting position. ] You'd probably put that on Youtube, too.

[podchinyatsya]

Damn skippy. I'd call CNN.

[ He nudges Steve playfully on the shoulder.

He wouldn't call CNN.




Probably. ]

[gotup]

I'm gonna put an ad in the paper looking for new best friends.

[ It's a good-natured grumble, and Steve doesn't really mean it. Probably. ]

[podchinyatsya]

You need to get with the times. People use Craigslist now.

[ He's gonna pretend that grumble didn't hurt just a little. ]

[gotup]

You know what kinda psychos you get on Craigslist? I'm not gonna look for anything on there.

[ Come on, Buck, it was a joke. :c ]

[podchinyatsya]

[ He doesn't have any other friends :c ]

Well, the only folks reading the newspaper now are old-timers so hey, put an ad out. You should have friends your own age.

[gotup]

[ Neither does Steve!

Ignore that thumping sound in the distance, it's just Sam hitting his head against the wall because of both of them. ]

Hey, maybe I can get a bridge club together. You wanna join?

[podchinyatsya]

[ Bird-Boy is not his friend :| ]

Am I also bringing the prune juice?

[gotup]

[ W o w rude. ]

Sure. Guys our age need to stay regular.

[podchinyatsya]

Pfffft.

[ Have a playful shove. ]