Despite the Avengers’ constant jokes (Tony) and concerns (Bruce) about the fact, they often still seemed to forget that Steve came pretty much straight from the 1940s.
It should have been nice, in a way, that his background wasn’t a problem, but it was also confusing and at times very frustrating when someone forgot.
Perhaps the worst part about it was that they weren’t actually forgetting either. Part of it was ignorance as well, which was not an easy thing to call Tony Stark out on.
“Cap! Hey, Cap!”
Steve, who had been struggling with the infamous ‘other eye,’ looked up from his sketchbook. “Oh, hey, Tony,” he greeted the excitedly grinning man who’d come up to him. “Something the matter?”
Tony’s face was wearing that typical expression of his that could have a variety of meanings anywhere from ‘I’ve invented something clever’ to ‘I’ve found a new way to set the kitchen on fire,’ (which Tony, for some strange and reasonably concerning reason, appeared to view as interchangeable.) “Nothing, it’s just a nice day so I was wondering if you’d join me and Clint—” Steve had long since given up on correcting Tony to ‘insert-human-being-here and I,’ “—for a Frisbee game in the park?”
“A what?” Steve inquired with a frown.
“A Frisbee game.” When Steve remained patiently silent, Tony continued, “What, is your hearing deteriorating with age already? Do I need to fix you some hearing aids?” he quipped with a teasing grin that Steve knew far too well.
The soldier suppressed an agitated sigh (although only barely) and clarified, “No, like you very well know, there’s nothing wrong with my ears. But as you so subtly pointed out I’m old enough to be your father, so what in the hell is a frisbee game?”
Tony shot him a dumbfounded look, which didn’t happen very often. “JARVIS,” he began then – easily jumping from one conversation to another, “in what year was the Frisbee invented?”
“1948, sir,” JARVIS supplied helpfully.
Steve shot Tony a long and pointed look, which Tony returned with one of such utter exasperation that it worried Steve.
“But— you— how do you not know?! You—” Tony let go of a sort of howl of frustration and then shook his head. “Oh, you poor soul – you more or less invented it. Come on, you’ll love this,” he said then, pulling at Steve’s arm.
Steve sighed, but closed his sketchbook. As Tony turned around and strutted to the elevator, Steve couldn’t resist smiling. No matter how ignorant Tony could be, at least he meant well. (Usually.)