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om_mainBigby, John, Steve, and Bucky go to a Brooklyn Cyclones baseball game.
Steve was barely keeping from bouncing as they walked from the car to the stadium. He loved baseball, loved it, and he hadn't been to a game in forever. They hadn't been with Bigby in even longer, and it was a chance to get to know John as well, see who turned Big Bad Bigby soft, and hopefully, make him feel welcome as well.
"We're down here," he said, beckoning for them to follow when he spotted their seats. "John and Buck, are the two of you fine taking the ends?" That way, no one would be talking through John, but he was still close enough to explain the game, if Bigby didn't have it handled.
"Works with me," So long as it was a seat with a good view of the game, Bucky was hardly fussy. Steve's excitement was equally shared by him too as he looked around grinning. Baseball, there was nothing like it and baseball with his buddies just like when they were kids? Even better. The addition of Bigby's new boyfriend was interesting. Once you got used to the accent enough to understand what he was saying to you, of course.
John, who'd been looking about him with interest and noting the lack of any extreme difference between a cricket crowd and a baseball one--so far--nodded. "Sounds good to me." He'd never bothered with baseball--either back home or in any of the countries he'd hopped through with his mum--so he was looking forward to both seeing how it worked and how the crowd reacted.
As they started into the row, he reached out almost unconsciously to stick his finger through Bigby's belt loop, just so he could keep looking around and still be led in the right direction. He'd almost run into some bloke with a tray of beers first thing, and had (probably) learned his lesson. "Thanks for the invite. Never been to Brooklyn before."
Bigby smiled one of his hard to see smiles at the finger hooked in his belt loop. “It’s home, sweet home,” he said with a trace of wryness.
“This is us here, John,” Bigby said as he came to a stop behind Steve and Bucky. The seats were really good. They were three rows away from the field, closer than he’d ever been before, and were along the first base line near the home team’s dugout. “Let me know if you end up wanting to switch seats.”
"We're all from here," he added to John, just in case he didn't know. "We used to run together as kids." He almost added that his and Bigby's mom used to work at the same hospital, but it was probably better to leave it be for now.
"Anyone want drinks or food?" Steve asked, shelling out his wallet and pulling a ten out. He hated spending money so early, but he stomach was already starting to feel like it was gnawing on itself. He directed his gaze over to Bigby, knowing his metabolism was the same, and lifted an eyebrow. "I'll grab everything if people hand me money."
Already pulling out his own note, Bucky asked "You sure you don't want an extra pair of hands?" Not because he didn't want to get to know John, he totally did, but he'd noticed the belt loop move (cute, real cute) and much as he wanted to hang with them, he wasn't so sure he'd enjoy it if he was about to become a third wheel while Steve got them snacks.
John, on the other hand, had no intention of going anywhere. He proved that he'd long since removed his finger from Bigby's beltloop (sitting would've been awkward otherwise, or he might not have thought of it) by digging for his billfold and digging through it. "Still think it's bloody weird that your money's all the same color," he giggled at Bigby.
After finding a twenty, he held it over Bigby's lap to Steve. "Whatever is most American! Or whatever he likes. Two of that, one for each?" He shot a hopeful look at Bigby that he'd let him pay. Now he was gainfully employed, he'd like to do that now and then.
Bigby could smell the discomfort coming off of Bucky, but didn’t comment. Whatever it was about, it wasn’t worth potentially ruining the afternoon over. Looking to the others instead, he said, “What can I saw? Americans are sorely lacking in creative. Two hot dogs and cokes, Steve, thanks.” He smiled at his boyfriend, “Thanks, Johnny,” and kissed his cheek.
"I'm taking that as a challenge," Steve teased with a grin as he took Bucky's money, then John's. He was glad they had done this; John and Bigby were cute, John seemed excited about the whole experience, and he felt like the whole thing was going to go great.
"I've got it, thanks Buck," he said, flashing his friend a smile before squeezing past and jogging back up the steps towards the concessions.
Bucky was grinning too, maybe it'd get sickening later on but for now the newlywed lovebird thing was actually kinda cute. Like a pair of puppies, almost literally considering Bigby.
"So John, apart from the urge to colour in our money, you liking it over here?" He asked as he shoved his wallet back in his pocket.
"S'alright," John said in a tone of voice that suggested this meant far better than 'alright' implied in America. "To be fair, I'm not hugely patriotic for Australia or anything--hardly even lived there over the last five years or so, so I don't miss much but the tim tams. And the cricket."
Bigby sat back, resting his arm along the back of John’s chair, “Guess I better return that Australian flag and Crocodile Dundee collection I got you for Christmas then.”
"Cricket's the one with a bat, ball, and running about, right? Might feel at home here." While he logically knew baseball wasn't for everyone, he personally couldn't fathom someone not loving the game.
"I'll have the flag, though! For next time I need to claim something." John was still cackling at the Crocodile Dundee crack when he nodded at Bucky's remarks. "Yeah but it's mostly a lot of running back and forth. And the bat's flat and there's none of this catching the ball with a glove. I reckon it can't be too different, though."
Bigby smiled a little, “It’s different enough. It’s too bad no one around here plays cricket. Would have been nice to go to a game some time.” He’d have to look into it. Maybe there was a school, or a minor league... Unlikely, but worth looking. He’d love to be able to take John.
"We've got a lot of English kids around, that's who'll know better." Bucky suggested since, hey, he'd try any sport once. Cricket was the one that stopped for lunch right? Any sport that included a meal sounded good to him.
Thinking of food, his eyes darted to see if he could spot Steve returning yet. He hadn't needed to give his order, it hadn't actually changed since the last time he'd gone to a game with Bigby as kids.
Not sign of food yet on the horizon so he turned back to the lovebirds, he was happy and relaxed. The worry about being a third wheel had only been a very momentary thing and had completely vanished.
"Faiza mentioned wanting to play," John said thoughtfully. "But that doesn't help us going to see one. We need a group trip to somewhere more Commonwealth. Or I need to learn how baseball works, which'd be cheaper."
“There’s Canada,” Bigby pointed out. “That’d be inexpensive as far as travel goes.”
As Steve navigated the steps, it occurred to him that he may have gone a little overboard. But Johnny had asked for typically American, and he every time he saw something else, he wanted to introduce it to him as well. The result was fries and popcorn and peanuts and funnel cakes and so many hot dogs that they'd finally just packed the all in a paper sack for him.
"I may have gone overboard," he stated out loud as he reached the seats. "Bigby, do you mind spreading out the drinks? They're all the same, so it doesn't matter who gets which." He smiled at John as he started doling out the food. "And don't feel like you have to eat it all, Johnny. I figured you could eat what you like and Bigby and I can take care of the rest."
"Hey, I never say no to extra food either," Bucky reminded him probably needlessly, though of course he couldn't put it away quite on the same level as Steve could these days. Accepting his drink from Bigby, he twisted to let Steve back at his seat.
John was delighted with the haul, ginning hugely as he accepted his drink. "Well, that's very American too, mate," he said to Steve. "Gigantic portions for everyone--even those of us without ricockulous metabolisms. Ah yeah, look at that!" He was practically drooling over the gigantic hot dog.
Once Bigby had finished passing out the drinks, he accepted his hot dog from Steve. His stomach grumbled in anticipation. Fuck, he’d made sure to eat before they left and he was starving already. Pulling the bag of food just a little bit closer, he stuck his free hand in and pulled out a handful of condiment packets. “Do you want anything?” he asked John. “We have ketchup, mustard, sweet relish, and hot pepper relish.”
John giggled. "Everything!"
"You're always welcome to whatever, Buck," Steve said as he took his seat, then eagerly dug reached into the bag of hotdogs, passing Bucky's over to him before taking out three (it was embarrassing, but he'd been one away from the discount, and he'd only have to get up later...) and taking out mustard packets.
He flashed a smile at Bigby just before taking a bite, suddenly grateful to have him there. He always felt uncomfortable eating around others, but being around Bigby or Pietro always put him at ease. He didn't feel so disgusting eating the quantities he needed when he wasn't the only one. "That's not a tradition I'd been real familiar with," he admitted, glancing across to John after he'd swallowed. "Before, anyway. Now, I just have trouble keeping up."
Chewing on his own hotdog thoughtfully, Bucky watched the sauce experiment unfolding in front of him uncertain as to whether is was madness or genius. He guessed he'd find out soon enough.
"Any spare hot pepper going?" He asked in general as he relaxed back in his seat.
John tossed him two packs of hot relish easily. His own hot dog was now a beautiful mess of all the condiments ever. He giggled. "Masterpiece!" He held it up. "Thanks, Steve, for doing the honors."
Bigby was watching John with a fondly amused smile. He was really fucking adorable. “It’ll go down in hot dog history,” he told him, chuckling. “Yeah, Steve, thanks. I’ll go get round two.”
"Wait, wait," Steve said, laughing as he quickly dug out his phone and brought up the photo app. He leaned forward in his seat, angling to get John with the hot dog, in all it's messy glory.
"Okay, continue," he said in under thirty seconds, sliding back into his seat with a grin as he texted the photo to Bigby. Finished, he slipped it back into his pocket and started tearing open packets of mustard. "And no problem, guys, my pleasure."
"Mmm, yeah, thanks Steve." Licking sauce from his fingers, Bucky told his best friend. "And thanks for the reminder, Mom's been nagging me to send her a group pic sometime. Sorry Bigby she's desperate to see 'what a handsome young man' you musta grown into. Maybe after the game, huh?" It'd be easy to get a snap of the four of them and now he'd said it, maybe one of them would remember.
He shoved the last bit of hot dog into his mouth, looking out across the field. Hopefully it'd be starting soon.
After he was done posing for Steve, John tucked into the hot dog. His expression said clearly that he was very, very pleased with the result of his condiment experiment. "He is a handsome young man, isn't he?" John giggled.
Bigby glanced over at John with a bit of a smile, then looked over at Bucky, nodding. “Sure, Bucky. I guess she needs to see at least one of us turned out alright.” It was said with a large helping of dry humor.
"I'll remember," Steve said around his bite of hot dog, hand up in a vague effort to cover his mouth. "And yes, congratulations, Bigby. You've done Brooklyn proud. I mean, those eyes.” He pressed a hand to his chest, then grinned and elbowed him before going back to his hotdog.
"That's harsh, Wolf!" Bucky complained, joking "You're breaking my heart over here!"
"The truth hurts," John said after swallowing a huge gulp of hot-dog-and-condiment. "I've written paragraphs about those eyes."
Looking, for him, embarrassed by all the attention, Bigby shifted in his seat. “It’ll heal,” he joked back at Bucky. He sucked some ketchup off the corner of his thumb, then reached for his drink.
Steve chuckled and clapped Bigby on the back, but laid off him. Instead, he shot a grin to Bucky. "It's okay, Bucky, you know I still think you're pretty."
"You really think I'm pretty, Rogers?" Buck cooed back, fluttering his eyelashes a little and trying not to laugh. "My hero!" And started to lean in as if to rest his head briefly on Steve's big shoulder, snickering and fully expecting an elbow in the ribs.
"He's not bad either," John told Bigby confidentially, then laughed again. Oooh, something was going on with the jumbotron now--starting, maybe?
Bigby chuckled, “Steve? Yeah, not bad at all.” He dug another hot dog out of the bag of food and then a jumbo soft pretzel, offering it out to John as the announcer welcomed everyone to the game in a voice that boomed through the stadium.
Steve, with his enhanced hearing, heard the two and turned bright red, glancing down at his hotdog with a big, embarrassed smile. "Okay, it's starting!" he said, grateful to the announcer for the distraction before he turned into a beet. "Okay, John, pay attention, in a minute they're going to run through the player and their positions."
Steve was barely keeping from bouncing as they walked from the car to the stadium. He loved baseball, loved it, and he hadn't been to a game in forever. They hadn't been with Bigby in even longer, and it was a chance to get to know John as well, see who turned Big Bad Bigby soft, and hopefully, make him feel welcome as well.
"We're down here," he said, beckoning for them to follow when he spotted their seats. "John and Buck, are the two of you fine taking the ends?" That way, no one would be talking through John, but he was still close enough to explain the game, if Bigby didn't have it handled.
"Works with me," So long as it was a seat with a good view of the game, Bucky was hardly fussy. Steve's excitement was equally shared by him too as he looked around grinning. Baseball, there was nothing like it and baseball with his buddies just like when they were kids? Even better. The addition of Bigby's new boyfriend was interesting. Once you got used to the accent enough to understand what he was saying to you, of course.
John, who'd been looking about him with interest and noting the lack of any extreme difference between a cricket crowd and a baseball one--so far--nodded. "Sounds good to me." He'd never bothered with baseball--either back home or in any of the countries he'd hopped through with his mum--so he was looking forward to both seeing how it worked and how the crowd reacted.
As they started into the row, he reached out almost unconsciously to stick his finger through Bigby's belt loop, just so he could keep looking around and still be led in the right direction. He'd almost run into some bloke with a tray of beers first thing, and had (probably) learned his lesson. "Thanks for the invite. Never been to Brooklyn before."
Bigby smiled one of his hard to see smiles at the finger hooked in his belt loop. “It’s home, sweet home,” he said with a trace of wryness.
“This is us here, John,” Bigby said as he came to a stop behind Steve and Bucky. The seats were really good. They were three rows away from the field, closer than he’d ever been before, and were along the first base line near the home team’s dugout. “Let me know if you end up wanting to switch seats.”
"We're all from here," he added to John, just in case he didn't know. "We used to run together as kids." He almost added that his and Bigby's mom used to work at the same hospital, but it was probably better to leave it be for now.
"Anyone want drinks or food?" Steve asked, shelling out his wallet and pulling a ten out. He hated spending money so early, but he stomach was already starting to feel like it was gnawing on itself. He directed his gaze over to Bigby, knowing his metabolism was the same, and lifted an eyebrow. "I'll grab everything if people hand me money."
Already pulling out his own note, Bucky asked "You sure you don't want an extra pair of hands?" Not because he didn't want to get to know John, he totally did, but he'd noticed the belt loop move (cute, real cute) and much as he wanted to hang with them, he wasn't so sure he'd enjoy it if he was about to become a third wheel while Steve got them snacks.
John, on the other hand, had no intention of going anywhere. He proved that he'd long since removed his finger from Bigby's beltloop (sitting would've been awkward otherwise, or he might not have thought of it) by digging for his billfold and digging through it. "Still think it's bloody weird that your money's all the same color," he giggled at Bigby.
After finding a twenty, he held it over Bigby's lap to Steve. "Whatever is most American! Or whatever he likes. Two of that, one for each?" He shot a hopeful look at Bigby that he'd let him pay. Now he was gainfully employed, he'd like to do that now and then.
Bigby could smell the discomfort coming off of Bucky, but didn’t comment. Whatever it was about, it wasn’t worth potentially ruining the afternoon over. Looking to the others instead, he said, “What can I saw? Americans are sorely lacking in creative. Two hot dogs and cokes, Steve, thanks.” He smiled at his boyfriend, “Thanks, Johnny,” and kissed his cheek.
"I'm taking that as a challenge," Steve teased with a grin as he took Bucky's money, then John's. He was glad they had done this; John and Bigby were cute, John seemed excited about the whole experience, and he felt like the whole thing was going to go great.
"I've got it, thanks Buck," he said, flashing his friend a smile before squeezing past and jogging back up the steps towards the concessions.
Bucky was grinning too, maybe it'd get sickening later on but for now the newlywed lovebird thing was actually kinda cute. Like a pair of puppies, almost literally considering Bigby.
"So John, apart from the urge to colour in our money, you liking it over here?" He asked as he shoved his wallet back in his pocket.
"S'alright," John said in a tone of voice that suggested this meant far better than 'alright' implied in America. "To be fair, I'm not hugely patriotic for Australia or anything--hardly even lived there over the last five years or so, so I don't miss much but the tim tams. And the cricket."
Bigby sat back, resting his arm along the back of John’s chair, “Guess I better return that Australian flag and Crocodile Dundee collection I got you for Christmas then.”
"Cricket's the one with a bat, ball, and running about, right? Might feel at home here." While he logically knew baseball wasn't for everyone, he personally couldn't fathom someone not loving the game.
"I'll have the flag, though! For next time I need to claim something." John was still cackling at the Crocodile Dundee crack when he nodded at Bucky's remarks. "Yeah but it's mostly a lot of running back and forth. And the bat's flat and there's none of this catching the ball with a glove. I reckon it can't be too different, though."
Bigby smiled a little, “It’s different enough. It’s too bad no one around here plays cricket. Would have been nice to go to a game some time.” He’d have to look into it. Maybe there was a school, or a minor league... Unlikely, but worth looking. He’d love to be able to take John.
"We've got a lot of English kids around, that's who'll know better." Bucky suggested since, hey, he'd try any sport once. Cricket was the one that stopped for lunch right? Any sport that included a meal sounded good to him.
Thinking of food, his eyes darted to see if he could spot Steve returning yet. He hadn't needed to give his order, it hadn't actually changed since the last time he'd gone to a game with Bigby as kids.
Not sign of food yet on the horizon so he turned back to the lovebirds, he was happy and relaxed. The worry about being a third wheel had only been a very momentary thing and had completely vanished.
"Faiza mentioned wanting to play," John said thoughtfully. "But that doesn't help us going to see one. We need a group trip to somewhere more Commonwealth. Or I need to learn how baseball works, which'd be cheaper."
“There’s Canada,” Bigby pointed out. “That’d be inexpensive as far as travel goes.”
As Steve navigated the steps, it occurred to him that he may have gone a little overboard. But Johnny had asked for typically American, and he every time he saw something else, he wanted to introduce it to him as well. The result was fries and popcorn and peanuts and funnel cakes and so many hot dogs that they'd finally just packed the all in a paper sack for him.
"I may have gone overboard," he stated out loud as he reached the seats. "Bigby, do you mind spreading out the drinks? They're all the same, so it doesn't matter who gets which." He smiled at John as he started doling out the food. "And don't feel like you have to eat it all, Johnny. I figured you could eat what you like and Bigby and I can take care of the rest."
"Hey, I never say no to extra food either," Bucky reminded him probably needlessly, though of course he couldn't put it away quite on the same level as Steve could these days. Accepting his drink from Bigby, he twisted to let Steve back at his seat.
John was delighted with the haul, ginning hugely as he accepted his drink. "Well, that's very American too, mate," he said to Steve. "Gigantic portions for everyone--even those of us without ricockulous metabolisms. Ah yeah, look at that!" He was practically drooling over the gigantic hot dog.
Once Bigby had finished passing out the drinks, he accepted his hot dog from Steve. His stomach grumbled in anticipation. Fuck, he’d made sure to eat before they left and he was starving already. Pulling the bag of food just a little bit closer, he stuck his free hand in and pulled out a handful of condiment packets. “Do you want anything?” he asked John. “We have ketchup, mustard, sweet relish, and hot pepper relish.”
John giggled. "Everything!"
"You're always welcome to whatever, Buck," Steve said as he took his seat, then eagerly dug reached into the bag of hotdogs, passing Bucky's over to him before taking out three (it was embarrassing, but he'd been one away from the discount, and he'd only have to get up later...) and taking out mustard packets.
He flashed a smile at Bigby just before taking a bite, suddenly grateful to have him there. He always felt uncomfortable eating around others, but being around Bigby or Pietro always put him at ease. He didn't feel so disgusting eating the quantities he needed when he wasn't the only one. "That's not a tradition I'd been real familiar with," he admitted, glancing across to John after he'd swallowed. "Before, anyway. Now, I just have trouble keeping up."
Chewing on his own hotdog thoughtfully, Bucky watched the sauce experiment unfolding in front of him uncertain as to whether is was madness or genius. He guessed he'd find out soon enough.
"Any spare hot pepper going?" He asked in general as he relaxed back in his seat.
John tossed him two packs of hot relish easily. His own hot dog was now a beautiful mess of all the condiments ever. He giggled. "Masterpiece!" He held it up. "Thanks, Steve, for doing the honors."
Bigby was watching John with a fondly amused smile. He was really fucking adorable. “It’ll go down in hot dog history,” he told him, chuckling. “Yeah, Steve, thanks. I’ll go get round two.”
"Wait, wait," Steve said, laughing as he quickly dug out his phone and brought up the photo app. He leaned forward in his seat, angling to get John with the hot dog, in all it's messy glory.
"Okay, continue," he said in under thirty seconds, sliding back into his seat with a grin as he texted the photo to Bigby. Finished, he slipped it back into his pocket and started tearing open packets of mustard. "And no problem, guys, my pleasure."
"Mmm, yeah, thanks Steve." Licking sauce from his fingers, Bucky told his best friend. "And thanks for the reminder, Mom's been nagging me to send her a group pic sometime. Sorry Bigby she's desperate to see 'what a handsome young man' you musta grown into. Maybe after the game, huh?" It'd be easy to get a snap of the four of them and now he'd said it, maybe one of them would remember.
He shoved the last bit of hot dog into his mouth, looking out across the field. Hopefully it'd be starting soon.
After he was done posing for Steve, John tucked into the hot dog. His expression said clearly that he was very, very pleased with the result of his condiment experiment. "He is a handsome young man, isn't he?" John giggled.
Bigby glanced over at John with a bit of a smile, then looked over at Bucky, nodding. “Sure, Bucky. I guess she needs to see at least one of us turned out alright.” It was said with a large helping of dry humor.
"I'll remember," Steve said around his bite of hot dog, hand up in a vague effort to cover his mouth. "And yes, congratulations, Bigby. You've done Brooklyn proud. I mean, those eyes.” He pressed a hand to his chest, then grinned and elbowed him before going back to his hotdog.
"That's harsh, Wolf!" Bucky complained, joking "You're breaking my heart over here!"
"The truth hurts," John said after swallowing a huge gulp of hot-dog-and-condiment. "I've written paragraphs about those eyes."
Looking, for him, embarrassed by all the attention, Bigby shifted in his seat. “It’ll heal,” he joked back at Bucky. He sucked some ketchup off the corner of his thumb, then reached for his drink.
Steve chuckled and clapped Bigby on the back, but laid off him. Instead, he shot a grin to Bucky. "It's okay, Bucky, you know I still think you're pretty."
"You really think I'm pretty, Rogers?" Buck cooed back, fluttering his eyelashes a little and trying not to laugh. "My hero!" And started to lean in as if to rest his head briefly on Steve's big shoulder, snickering and fully expecting an elbow in the ribs.
"He's not bad either," John told Bigby confidentially, then laughed again. Oooh, something was going on with the jumbotron now--starting, maybe?
Bigby chuckled, “Steve? Yeah, not bad at all.” He dug another hot dog out of the bag of food and then a jumbo soft pretzel, offering it out to John as the announcer welcomed everyone to the game in a voice that boomed through the stadium.
Steve, with his enhanced hearing, heard the two and turned bright red, glancing down at his hotdog with a big, embarrassed smile. "Okay, it's starting!" he said, grateful to the announcer for the distraction before he turned into a beet. "Okay, John, pay attention, in a minute they're going to run through the player and their positions."
