Imagine Steve playing with getting different piercings all over, because his healing means they only last a few weeks, and having the ones he likes best re-done frequently.
Steve, Nat, Sam, Sharon, and Pepper are hanging out the first time it occurs to him. Well – the first time it’s suggested to him.
Pepper’s fiddling with a long silver bar dangling from one ear and he just can’t take his eyes off it. He doesn’t think he could wear earrings like those, specifically, but – although, maybe he could, he thinks, resting his head against the couch and considering how lovely the column of her neck is, how it’s set off by the straight silver line…
He jerks up. How tired is he, that he let his mind wander so long? How much of Thor’s mead has he had? “Hm?” he asks.
“I know we’re all admiring the hickey Pepper’s got, but you don’t have to stare,” Sharon says.
“Oh,” Steve says as Pepper throws popcorn Sharon’s direction, “I, yeah, that’s what – yeah.”
Sam narrows his eyes at him. “Hey what if we pierced your ears?” he asks.
Steve goes bright red. “I, uh?”
He manages five whole seconds pretending that’s not what he wants before he gives in. The minute Sam’s said it, he really, really wants it, so it feels like ten seconds later that he’s sitting in the bathroom, a cube of ice pressed against his earlobe, head tipped to one side as Natasha sterilizes a safety pin with her lighter.
Pepper lends him her earrings, after, and he makes it a whole six hours before they close up on him. But it’s six hours where he can’t stop turning to stare at the flash of the earrings in the darkened window, remembering the sharpbrightyellow flash of pain through his earlobe.
He already wants it again.