Steve's Diary

August 3, 2015

Dear Diary,

I'm just gonna get straight into recounting what happened because- I don't know. I don't even have feelings on it just yet.

—————

It was about 11:30 at night and I had just finished my late-night post-dinner workout.

I picked up my gym bag and headed for the elevator at the edge of the room just as I did daily at this point. The doors opened and I pressed the button and waited to be brought up to the living quarters.

When the door opened, the only thing on my mind was a shower. I needed to get out of this damned, sweat-soaked wife-beater and under some cold water as soon as possible and then hit the hay. I was exhausted. God, being a hero and staying fit, even with super-soldier blood coursing through my veins, is a Hell of a job.

I used my key to enter my room and dropped my bag next to the closet on the chair left out specifically for that one purpose. I went for my shoes first and started unlacing and taking them off, then followed by my socks- which then landed in the hamper at the other end of the room with perfect accuracy.

"Nice shot," I heard from behind me.

I spun around, shocked that my ears hadn't picked up on someone entering, and met eyes with Natasha. "You scared the shit outta me."

"Captain America? A scaredy cat?" she joked. "Who knew?"

"It's almost midnight, Nat, I was gonna get in the shower and get to bed," I told her. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be up, nevermind anyone to actually come visit."

"Oh, so you want me to go?" she wondered, her voice lilting as she approached me from behind. "Or," she began again, her hands slipping below my shirt and beginning to pull it off. "Would you mind if I, maybe, stay a little while longer?"

"I... wouldn't particularly mind it if you did," I replied, giving in to this curiosity that was finally starting to boil over within me.

Perhaps this wouldn't be such a bad thing, you know, to experiment a little and see what it is I truly like. I really don't think Bucky would mind, anyway, right?

The shirt came off over my shoulders and then her hands made their way back to my stomach as she meandered her way up and down. "Well?" she started.

"Well, I still gotta shower, you know," I reminded her.

"Shower after," she replied.

I turned to face her, my eyebrows raised in curiosity. "After... what, exactly?"

She smiled devilishly. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

I dragged my hands under her shirt. "I guess I'll find out eventually."

She grabbed my face and kissed me as I played with her shirt and touched the delicate, slightly scarred skin beneath it. I kissed her relentlessly as I pulled her shirt off, too- only to realize she wasn't wearing anything under it.

I looked down at her as she stood bare before me - just as so many men around the world probably would have killed for - and had no idea what the Hell to do. And she could see it on my face.

She grabbed my hands in her palms and put them on her breasts. I grabbed them like I would anything else, and eventually moved one of my other hands to her ass, which was something I tended to prefer. After a moment like that, her hands were in my hair and I was pulling her leggings down to show she was donning a very revealing pair of black underwear. Almost like this was planned and entirely on purpose.

I almost tried not to look at her and focus on kissing her and grabbing her and... pretending like she was someone else.

She led us onto my bed so that I was on top of her, which wasn't even something I knew how to begin doing. In any case, she led my hand down to her... well... and left me there to know nothing of what I was even trying to do.

I don't know the female anatomy! What the Hell was she expecting of me?

When she realized she was going to have to take a lot more initiative, I heard a slight chuckle. I knew this would happen.

We went on kissing, I brought my hand back up and into her hair and continued on pretending— that is, when I felt her hand trickling down the middle of my chest.

At first, I was unsure if she was truly doing what I suspected she had been, but then I realized she most absolutely was. She grabbed me through my pants, I stopped kissing her and waited for the inevitable.

"Uhm... Steve?" she began, clearing her throat.

"Mhmm?" I reluctantly answered.

"...This- uh, it's kinda... it's a first for me," she told me. "I'm not really sure-"

"What do you-" I stopped her and kneeled above her, wondering how this was a first for her. I looked down on myself and realized she had been talking about something else... you know, the fact that I wasn't even the least bit hard. Literally no boner. Not even a chance erection.

Fuck. If she hadn't seen through my lie about that dame (aka Bucky) before, she definitely knew now.

"It's- it's okay, Steve," she replied. "This kinda stuff happens often, or so I'm told... at least to older guys and, I guess, you are technically 97-years-old."

"Oh, yea, you're probably, er, right," I agreed, standing. I allowed her to redress and everything as I just sorta stood there and waited for her to say something.

"Maybe... another time?" she proposed.

I smiled. "Maybe, yea."

She nodded, and with that, was out the door and gone.

I locked it behind her and headed straight for the shower.

—————

I don't know what happened.

I mean, I guess that's my answer, though. I'm not sexually attracted to women, no matter how much of a distraction kissing them may be, and that's that.

Or, maybe it's just that I'm in love with someone else that isn't her? I can't seem to determine what it is because, well, the lines are a little blurry. Or, maybe it's just these damned rose colored glasses I've been donning in this search for Bucky.

Could it be women in general or just the fact that I'm not currently in love with a woman?

Who the Hell am I kidding with that line of crap? I'm definitely just... gay.

And, if not, I suppose I'll see clearly soon enough.

~ S. R.