Chapter Text
There’s nothing weird about it in the moment. Sam and Steve were scouting a warehouse in Bed-Stuy that some files Natasha acquired suggested was being used as an AIM research lab. Just a small one, no need to involve the whole team.
And it had been small, only a handful of scientists, no challenge for Captain America and the Falcon to detain for the police. Nothing here to see. Except that as they were being lead away by the cops, one of the scientists managed to release what they’d been working on. Which was, apparently, a small army of giant, sludge spitting hamsters.
Still, with the help of the NYPD, it didn't take too long to corral the strange animals. But just when it looked like they’d be able to finish the entire mission with no major incidents, one of the hamsters spat a ball of gunk that arced high and connected with Sam’s wings.
He plummeted to the ground, but only seemed a little dazed when Steve made it to his side. He helped his friend to his feet, running his hands over Sam’s head to check for injury, understandably concerned. Sam laughed it off, insisted he was fine, so they thanked the police, and headed out. And if there were some locals snapping pictures, well, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary there.
The first indication that anything was out of the ordinary came a few hours when Natasha greeted them on arrival back at base. She was smirking a little, which made Steve think she had a joke to make about the hamsters and just couldn't wait to get it out of her system.
“You guys should probably see what the news coverage is like,” she said, which was not what Steve expected.
“Is PETA pissed?” Sam asked. “Because that’s unfair. We’re not the ones who turned everyone’s favorite classroom pet into the worst science fair project.”
“It’s not PETA,” Natasha said, Steve felt a little cryptically.
She stopped before the common area, turning to face them. “All right, I can’t in good conscience actually spring this on the two of you. It’s about some pictures taken of the two of you after Sam fell.”
“I was fine,” Sam said.
“It’s more about how Steve reacted.”
“I was worried about my friend. What could anyone possibly have to say about that?” Steve demanded.
“Some of the pictures make it look like you might be more than friends,” Natasha explained, with a what can you do tone. “Which I am pretty sure is not true, but if it is, good for you guys and how dare you keep this from me, I thought we were friends.”
“Ah,” Sam said.
“I would have told you,” Steve said.
“Try not to get too angry,” Natasha said, as she lead them into the room.
Wanda and the Vision were sitting on the couch, absorbed in the news commentary.
“I don't understand how this is news,” Wanda said, as the screen cut away from the commentators to one of the photos they were discussing.
Steve had to admit, it does look like definitive proof. The photo seemed to have been taken right after he pulled Sam to his feet. Their hands clasped between their chests, Steve’s other hand cupping Sam’s head gently. From this angle, Steve’s expression is visible, and his relief is obvious. He hadn't realized how close they were standing. Their mouths are very close, as if they are about to kiss.
“I do not understand why their genders are of such concern to these people; gender is an entirely constructed concept,” the Vision said, scrutinizing the television as if it might explain human’s peculiarities to him.
“We’re joined now by Francis Algernon of the Society for Familial Stability for comment,” said the tv.
Sam grimaced. “This oughta be good.”
Steve doubted that. The screen cut to a man in a conservatively cut dark suit with severely styled graying hair.
“Thanks so much for having me, Marisa,” he said with a falsely bright smile. “I think it’s clear from what we’re learning today that we need to seriously question what kind of role models we’re holding up for the youth of America. I know the Captain America we all studied in history class didn't represent this kind of radical agenda. He stood for truth, justice, and the American way.”
“Are you implying somehow that heterosexuals are the only ones who can represent those values?” asked another commentator, this one a woman with short blonde hair.
“I'm saying we’ve been deceived. We don't know what kind of deviants these so called heroes are, and I think we deserve know about the people we’re trusting to protect us.”
“Deviants, really? Did we slide back into the 1950s when I wasn't paying attention?”
“All right,” the show host interrupted. “We want to hear your reactions. Let’s take a look at what Twitter has to say. #falconcap has been trending for a while now.”
Chris @fiscallysound
well there goes the last bastion of American manhood #falconcap #notmyhero
don't call me franklin @foggyleghorn brb need to rub this a Columbia history prof’s face. Revisionist history my ass #falconcap
bows before bros @katiekate oh my god @billythewitch can your gay little heart take it? #falconcap
more magic than u @billythewitch my gay little heart cannot
momma mandy @chitownmomma guess I'll be clearing out my son’s superhero toys #falconcap
korean bbq is life @americachavez this just in America is now gay. All of it. Being straight is illegal. That's how it works #falconcap
korean bbq is life @americachavez that's seriously what some of you sound like. Chill straight people. You’ll get through this.
eli @patriotbradley if I see one more “Not to be racist but…” tweet I swear #falconcap
eli @patriotbradley you're being racist. You know you're being racist
“So what do you want to do about this?” Natasha asked.
Sam sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I guess we should release some statement that this is a misunderstanding, but I don't think it's really going to stop any of this.”
Steve kept staring at the tv. The Familial Stability guy reappeared, talking about the need for public figures who model upstanding morals and good citizenship. It’s around this rant that Steve started to get an inadvisable idea.
“What if we didn't?”
“It’s no one’s business anyway,” Wanda agreed.
“Not saying anything isn't going to make them stop,” Natasha said.
Steve shook his head. “I don't mean say nothing. But what if we, well, leaned into it for a while?” He glanced quickly at Sam. “If you're okay with that.”
Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “I know you well enough to know this guy is pissing you off, but you can't pretend to be gay to prove a point.”
“It wouldn't exactly be a lie. Although as I understand it, the more accurate term now is bisexual.”
Sam laughed, which probably meant he was on board. “She’s just upset she didn't get a chance to include guys in her attempts to set you up.”
At this point Natasha’s eyebrows were practically in her hair. “You can come out without dating Sam.”
“Well, if he comes out now, and goes, yeah, but I'm not dating Sam, no one is going to believe it,” Sam said. “And it's not like I’d be lying either.”
“Am I the only one who thinks our private lives are not for the press?” Wanda muttered.
“The two of you really want to do this?” Natasha asked.
Steve nodded. If he was being honest, it was the line about the Captain America of the history books that really got to him. He’d never gotten any say about how he’d been presented to the public, and he’d seen how politicians had used the idea of him over the years. It was time for him to own his image.
Sam shrugged. “Clearly nothing much would have to change. We confirm everyone’s suspicions, make a few appearances in date like settings, then quietly decide we’re better as friends.”
“Shall I alert Catherine Roots?” The Vision asked.
Catherine Roots was the recently instated publicity coordinator for the Avengers. She was, amazingly, universally liked. Steve liked her because she didn't insist on cultivating a public image. Natasha liked her competence. Wanda liked her because she kept the public away from her, and the Vision liked her because she would often take the time to explain the ins and outs of public relations to him. Rhodey had known her back when she’d worked for Tony.
“Oh no, what have you done?” Rhodey demanded, entering the room with a cup of coffee.
“Steve and Sam are dating now,” Wanda said.
Rhodey sipped his coffee. “I’ve missed something, and I am way too old to be dragged into shenanigans by anyone other than Tony, so you kids have fun with whatever this is.”
“We appreciate your support,” Sam said dryly.
The news coverage blinked out and was replaced by a dark skinned woman with bright large eyes, her expression an alarming combination of excited and annoyed.
“I hope this call is in reference to a series of photos that recently surfaced on the Internet,” Catherine said. “And I would also remind all of you, and certainly not two of you in particularly that when I started as your publicist that I stated that I needed to at least know about any relationships you might have.”
“We’re sorry?” Steve tried.
Catherine sighed, but he thought her heart wasn't really in the disappointment. “All right, before we do anything else, I'm going to need the backstory. How long has this been going on, why didn't you say anything, etc.”
Sam grinned. “Well, you could say he’s been flirting with me ever since he met me.”
Steve spluttered while Natasha laughed. “That’s not what… I wasn't…”
“No one wears t-shirts that tight if they’re not hitting on someone.”
“So a while then?” Catherine persisted.
“There were some other things we were dealing with at the time,” Steve said.
Catherine waved her hand impatiently. “But around that time?”
“Around,” Sam said, “But it was new and it was personal.”
“Also, we didn't have a publicist at the time,” Steve added.
“Fine, but once I came on, why didn't you tell me?”
Rhodey stepped behind the couch, nudging Wanda and the Vision. “We should let them do this alone.”
The three of them left quickly, but Natasha lingered. ‘Do you want me to stay?’ Steve thought she was asking. He shook his head. Satisfied, she nodded and followed the rest of the team.
When the door closed, Steve almost wished he had asked Natasha to stay. He didn't actually have any idea what he was going to say. Should they tell Catherine the truth? What could he possibly say that would explain the secret keeping? He desperately wanted time to plan this out. Steve had always been fine improvising in a fight, but he was a tactician at his core.
Sam, it turned out, was a phenomenal improviser.
“I didn't want the attention,” Sam said, and Steve marveled at how sincerely penitent he sounded. “I knew the media storm it would cause, and I wanted us to avoid it for as long as we could.”
Catherine sighed again. And then sighed once more for good measure. “If you had told me I might have been able to stop the media storm you’re going to get now.”
“We want to meet it head on,” Steve said. On impulse he took Sam’s hand. He bet it looked good, a united front.
Catherine grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that. Mostly because if you wanted to deny it my job becomes a living hell, but also for important reasons of visibility and role modeling and it is the 21st century and people need to get the hell over a lot of things already.”
“What happens now?” Steve asked, and he didn’t stutter at all when Sam brushed his thumb over his wrist, probably unconsciously, because Steve was a goddamn hero.
“I’m going to release a statement saying that the two of you are indeed in a relationship and would appreciate it if the press would respect your privacy and desire to keep your personal lives personal, and then I’m going to line up an interview. Probably prime time. Do you have any preferences?”
“You probably know better than we do,” Sam said.
“Damn right I do.”
As usual, Steve almost couldn’t believe the pace Catherine worked at. Within a few days, she had arranged a live prime time interview with Marisa Kingsley, the same journalist Steve had first seen covering this. Between the interview prep with Catherine, the training schedule he tried to maintain, and one or two minor superheroing events, Steve barely had a moment to really be alone with Sam. It almost seemed like this moment in the green room, straightening their ties, was the first time in the past days.
“You should maybe try not to look like you’re getting ready for a fight,” Sam said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I know there’s important implications for LGBT americans and everything, but this is basically a fluff piece. We’re gonna be light and happy and in love, and you might remember Catherine’s very specific instructions that we not come out swinging at the Society for Familial Stability unless mentioned.”
“As long as I can say whatever I want if it does come up.”
“No cursing. We are wholesome and adorable tonight. I know this hurts your inner rabble rouser, but we can raise hell later.”
The journalist, Marisa Kingsley, smiled when they entered the room. She offered her hand to both of them in turn, and Steve tried not to be too surprised by such a strong grip from such a petite woman. He supposed it must be useful to establish strength early on in her line of work.
“I just want you both to know how honored I am to be doing this interview,” she said, and Steve actually believed her sincerity. “I’ve got so much respect for the both of you.”
Steve hoped his own smile looked as natural. “I guess that eases my nerves a little.”
“We’ll be live in a just a few minutes; Catherine and I have discussed what you two are expecting from this, of course. Any last minute concerns or things you want to make sure we talk about?”
“We discussed everything with Catherine before; no surprises for you, sorry,” Sam answered.
“Hey, I’m doing the first interview with the first dating Avengers; I have no professional complaints.”
Sam and Steve settled themselves on the studio provided couch, and the lighting crew bustled around them for a moment, making sure everything was in place.
Marisa smiled from her seat across from them. “Here we go.”
Steve’s more intimidated by her sudden switch to camera mode than he expected. Her shoulders slid back, her neck tilted, and she flashed a brilliant smile.
“Good evening, I’m Marisa Kingsley. Tonight we’re speaking with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson about photographs that surfaced yesterday, causing a firestorm around the internet. The response has been varied, as anyone who searches falconcap on Twitter can easily see, but it’s passionate on all sides. Did either of you expect this?”
“It’s part of the reason we hadn’t made anything public,” Sam said. “There’s so much of your life that’s public discussion when you do what we do, and we didn’t want to add this.”
“Do you feel differently now?”
Steve said, “I don’t know if it matters. We can hardly ask everyone to pretend this didn’t happen. And yeah, maybe I’d appreciate it if people could stop acting like I’ve single-handedly ruined American values because I’m bisexual, but there’s also been a lot of people saying how much this means to them. And that sort of makes me wish I’d been open about it sooner. They deserve visible public figures who are like them.”
“So I suppose I have to ask the question everyone wants to know,” Marisa said with a smile. “How long have the two of you been involved?”
Steve and Sam glanced at each other. Steve felt his heart start to race, but he couldn’t say why. They’d practiced this, they knew what they were going to say, they had a plan. So why did he feel like he was about to jump out of a plane with no solid landing?
Sam’s laugh was genuine; he liked this story, told it at parties whenever he had the chance. Even under this circumstances, Steve’s not surprised it’s so easy for him.
“Well, the first thing you need to hear about is how I met him, because it is ridiculous. So there I am, minding my own business, taking my morning jog around the National Mall, when I hear someone coming up behind me. And this guy just blows past me going ‘on your left.’ And he does it again. And again. And when I’m finally done, he comes over, wearing, I swear, the smallest shirt he could conceivably still fit into, and introduces himself as Steve Rogers, as if I’m routinely lapped four times on my runs and this could be anyone. Then he vanishes into a sports car with Natasha Romanoff because he’s gotta go save the world, probably.”
Marisa also laughed. “And that worked?”
“Well, it gets a guy’s attention, yeah.”
The rest of the interview flowed easily once they’d gotten started. They talked about their entirely made up first date (dinner at a restaurant in Brooklyn Natasha had chosen that Steve hadn’t even heard of, let alone been too, but Sam’s imitation of him bemoaning the gentrification of the area was both based in fact and accurate, if over the top), cultural dating differences between the 21st century and the 1930s (“Well, no one says anything about us both being men or him being black to my face.”), and another completely fabricated story about telling the rest of the team.
They’re getting towards the end of their time when Steve realized he had taken Sam’s hand at some point. And then Marisa gave him the opening he’d been waiting all evening for.
“I suppose you’ve heard some of the very vocal members of the Society for Familial Stability? Do you have anything to say to anyone who thinks you’ve deceived the public?”
“Well, first of all, we need to acknowledge that their complaints really aren’t about deception, even if they try and use that to give them some cover,” Sam said, shaking his head.
“We all know they’d have nothing to say if they found out I’d been dating Natasha under the radar,” Steve added. “They are a homophobic organization. They’ve organized against same-sex marriage; they’ve organized against same-sex couples who want to adopt; they’ve advocated for a parent’s right to send their child to conversion therapy.”
“Yes, we did make a choice to keep our relationship private for as long as we could, something that many public figures do. And if you really want to complain about that, well, fine, but we’re not sorry about the choice we made,” Sam said. “But if you’re just using it as a way to attack queer people as inherently deceptive and deviant, I don’t feel bad saying that you are in the wrong.”
“I expect Francis Algernon will have something to say about that,” Marisa said with a small smile.
Steve laughed. “We really couldn’t care less.”
“Well, that’s all the time we have, unfortunately. Thank you both so much.”
Speedy @beepbeepitstommy david has been making "I told you so" phonecalls for ten minutes to
too smart @utopianprodigy "Steve Rogers is bi" -me, every day for the last 2 years
too smart @utopianprodigy Yes, I'm usually right. No, I don't usually get repeatedly shot down when I make factual statements. In conclusion, kiss my ass.