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Summary
Steve wasn’t ungrateful.
But there were still days when he remembered what being smaller, more fragile felt like. Days where Steve would think about what it was like pushing up into the space of someone who could without a doubt kick his ass and giving no fucks where his words got him. The way people could push and pull at his body and how it would crumble. There were days where he’d think about quiet back alleys or the shared apartments of guys from his art courses. He’d think about rough hands, what it felt like to be held down and how much he enjoyed it.
Steve wasn’t sure what he was doing thinking about it down here in Tony’s lab.