snacks and sympathy ((for chatnerd, backdated to pre-Endgame plot))

[shieldborne]

Steve does not consider himself a great cook, and if you asked most of his friends, they would agree, most with laughter and teasing included. All his go-to recipes are depression-era makeshift meals, or gelatin monstrosities, or both. He's capable of branching out a little, though, and today, after coming back from the grocery store and loading up the pantry and cabinets of the Clubhouse, he fills a skillet with bacon for starters. He's not sure yet what will go with it--which is a sure sign of a meal about to go out of control--but he's hungry and he's sure anything he can't eat will go over just fine with other visitors to the place.

So. Bacon. Pancakes and eggs? Or should he go a different route and make sandwiches? Or potato soup...

There's something meditative about throwing a meal together, even when you're bad at it.

Comments

[shieldborne]

He's still so guarded. Steve isn't sure what's going on in the kid's head, even now. On some level he can tell himself it isn't his business, but...if Adrien was perfectly happy with his too-full dance card and the masks he wears to the metaphorical ball, he wouldn't be here, would he?

"Sometimes it feels like that for me," he says thoughtfully, falling back on sincerity, as he always does when he's not sure what advice to give. "Sometimes it feels like the complete opposite. Growing up, all I wanted was a chance to prove myself, show I was worth as much as any other guy. When the war started, I was ready to walk across coals to get into the army. I had asthma, a messed-up back, anemia, flat feet, the works. I lied on my application five separate times before Dr. Erskine picked me up for Project Rebirth."

"And then he turned me into this. And some days I still look into the mirror and get a little bit rattled when I see this face instead of the one I had before the experiment. I guess it took all of this, the shield, the uniform, to get people to look at me, and I'm never sure what they're seeing."

[chatnerd]

Adrien had gotten... very good at that skill. At constructing a poker face that was believable for who he was supposed to be, that wouldn't raise any concerns in those around him. But that he was here, rather than back home was certainly a sign of the discontent that lurked underneath, Steve wasn't wrong there.

"That sounds kinda like something you'd read about in a comic," He mused thoughtfully, processing the story, the sincerity it was shared with. "But... with all the parts about it that they don't write about because it's too real."

A faint huff of sound as he gave the pasta a stir to keep things from sticking, time to gather his own thoughts a moment before responding.

"I... it's kinda the opposite for me. Like this, everyone looks. And for the most part I know what they're seeing because it's what they're supposed to. I mean, it's my job to make sure of that, no matter where I am or what I'm doing." Adrien lifted his brows on a wry, almost sheepish smile. "One of the unspoken perks of world-wide fame, you don't really have 'time off' anymore, even at home. Father, his assistant, the staff, they all expect basically the same of me. I guess... Chat kind of lets me have that time. That's not to say I don't take it seriously, I do, but..."

"It means I don't have to be 'on' all the time. And if someone is seeing something about me, it's because of things I did or said, rather than the image I'm expected to project."

[shieldborne]

Steve smiles a little. "You're not the first to say that. It's pretty surreal. I was also frozen in a block of ice for seventy years, if that helps at all."

It doesn't, he knows.

The baking pan is already greased and flour-dusted, and he pours the batter in and pops it in the oven. The mixing bowl goes into the sink. It's just a box mix and store-bought frosting, but fresh, hot cake is still fresh, hot cake.

Listening to Adrien, he finds himself thinking of Tony Stark. Wondering if his childhood was like that. As an adult now, it seems everything he does is performative, and Steve didn't realize that was a defense mechanism at first, but he does now. (Now that it's too late.) Of course, Stark also seems to take immense delight in trolling the world that watches him, both in and out of costume.

He sighs and gives Adrien a gentle pat on the back. "I think I understand. It's not the same experience for me, but I get it. I don't know, I keep telling the others that it's important to know who you are underneath the armor. Who you are, and what you stand for. And it is, but...being able to communicate that freely is something everyone deserves, too."

[chatnerd]

"Y'know here I was thinking the whole 'ancient magic powers' thing was surreal but you might just have me beat."

There were some parallels there, like as not. Rich families seemed to breed dysfunction, for all Adrien wasn't ready or willing to call what he and his father had such a harsh thing. Surely there was a reasonable explanation.

He still offered a small smile at the light pat. "Yeah, I think I get what you mean. I can't really... do much as Adrien, but as Chat I can kinda... figure out where I fit."

[shieldborne]

"Which is scarier, magic or science?" Steve shrugs. "They seem equally weird to me."

Steve nods to his explanation, though he still looks serious. There's so much that can go wrong in their line of work. He still doesn't think it's ideal to have minors fighting, no matter how talented they are. At least they seem to get something out of it, some sense of identity and purpose.

"Just don't forget to take care of yourself, too," he says, which is vague advice almost to the point of being useless, but he's not sure what else to say, caught between an urge to protect and a conscious effort not to be overbearing.

"Anyway, if you want to talk about it, consider me a free sounding board," he smiles at him, then reaches over his head to grab a couple bowls from the cabinet. "What do you like to drink? Milk, juice, soda pop, water?"