STEVE FOUND ONLY ONE SODA BOTTLE WHEN HE WENT TO GO SIT.

While surprised, he didn't think much of it, brushing it aside with the notion that he most likely didn't have enough money for two; he couldn't just expect the boy to buy soda for the both of them all the time. As usual, he didn't touch it unless prompted to, as he was afraid to anger the boy lest he assumed wrong, especially since there was now only one bottle.

He watched as the other blond boy went up to bat, looking more angry that he had in some time. Steve wondered what was wrong. As the boy ran, he corrected his observation; the boy wasn't angry, he was annoyed.

He frowned when he made it to home base without so much as a smile. His eyes followed him as he made his way to the soda, opening it harshly and taking a swig.

"Are you okay?" he called out, unable to help himself.

The boy turned to look at him and Steve braced himself, ready to fight back and defend himself, even from someone who he was sure was his friend.

Finally, the boy sighed, rolling the bottle in his hands. "Shouldn't you be with James?"

So that was it. Steve stood up then, albeit shakily, and took the bottle from Rhett's hand, taking a swig without asking. The boy just stared at him, shocked. Steve handed it back with a lopsided grin.

"I like being with you."

º º º

It was midway into November and Steve was wearing a tight t-shirt.  He had been consistently showing up to teach art to the kids for a good few weeks and, needless to say, Rhett was having a difficult time understanding some of the things he did.

The man tended to fiddle with his glasses when talking to people, as if afraid that they would stop working. When he first started, he had reverted to the voice he used when talking to civilians—loud and clear, inspiring, in a sense—but had slowly grown out of it, talking like any other person. When he was teaching he tended to use a lot of hand gestures, but went perfectly still when asked a question he wasn't prepared for, waiting a few moments before answering, in the same authoritative voice he used to use, at least until he grew out of it.

Now, he used slang.

"I didn't know you could talk normal," he drawled, grinning as Steve went about cleaning up the mess the kids had left before they went off to lunch.

Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes. "So I use 'got' sometimes, it ain't a crime. You gonna sue me or somethin'?"

"Why do you hide it?" Rhett asked, pushing off of his desk to stand next to him, helping with the clean up, "Your accent, I like it."

Steve's cheeks dusted pink and he shrugged. "The All-American hero's gotta be understood when he's selling war bonds to people. And when he's giving pep talks and speeches."

"And filming school sanctioned public service announcements," Rhett added with a sly grin.

Steve gasped, smacking his chest with the back of his hand. "No..." he whispered, shaking his head, "No."

Rhett nodded. "Yes."

"No..." Steve practically whined, slowly falling to his knees and resting his head on the table, "Please. Please."

"Your video on sharing was truly moving," Rhett continued, trying not to laugh, patting Steve's back, "I especially loved it when you laughed at your own joke at the end, truly, truly inspiring."

"Please shut up," Steve mumbled into his arm, "Please."

"Aw, Steve, I'm so glad you know your manners, you really do practice what you preach, but telling people to shut up is not what a kind person would do," Rhett hummed, drawing patterns into the man's back.

"Rhett, I am serious, shut up," Steve nearly growled, and it was hard to tell if he was laughing or not, his face red.

"I hear what you're saying, Steve, and I acknowledge that my words are affecting you greatly, and I will stop my teasing because I respect you and your wishes," Rhett finished, grinning madly at how easy it was to get the man to break.

In an instant, Steve was on his feet and crowding into Rhett's space, staring at him with calculating eyes, a mixture of both exasperation, embarrassment, and laughter. Behind that was something else, but it was something Rhett couldn't read.

"You gonna make me shut up?" Rhett asked, his voice a whisper, lost in the empty room.

Steve stared at him for a moment, almost pulling away. Rhett kept his gaze, trying not to tremble when he caught the way the man's eyes darted down to his lips. He wanted to breathe, but was terrified that any movement would cause everything to come crashing down.

His heart was beating so fast he was sure it was going to burst, and his eyes began to flutter closed when he noticed Steve leaning close, one of his hands down at his sides, gripping a chair to ground himself. Rhett wanted to hold onto something, to make sure that everything was real.

Then the door burst open.

"Mr. Reiser, help!"

The two men jumped back from each other, Rhett crashing into one of the shelves, Steve immediately jumping forward and grabbing him, pulling him close and letting the furniture clatter to the ground.

"Go," Steve said, lightly pushing him away once he was steady, "I can fix the shelves."

Rhett numbly stumbled towards the crying little girl, bending down to look at her at eye level. "What's wrong, Marissa?"

The little girl tugged him away to resolve a playground conflict that only he could resolve as the other yard duty teachers weren't as trustworthy, nor as nice. Rhett couldn't blame them for thinking that, scowling at the fifth and seventh grade teachers on duty; truly the terrors of the school.

By the time he had explained to Matthew Blake that he couldn't just go around kissing whomever he wanted without asking permission, it was nearing the end of lunch, meaning that he had to jump back into the classroom and get the next project ready.

"Grant," he called out, catching himself just before he shouted Steve's real name, stopping the man as he was beginning to leave.

"I should probably get going," Steve whispered, placing a hand on his arm, "I'll see you later?"

Rhett sighed and shook his head, worrying on his bottom lip. "Nicky's really sick right now, and he was hysterical yesterday 'cause I got home after dark, so until he gets better, I don't think I can."

"That's alright," Steve said, concern etched into his features, "Do you need any help around the place, I can drop by. If you need groceries or anything."

"I think we're good, but if I do, I'll let you know," Rhett said. He always knew what to say to appease Steve, especially when he worried. They'd only known each other for so long, but here they were already.

"Okay," the man replied, leaning close, as if to hug him. He stopped, however, and just nodded, hand lingering on his arm. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah," Rhett whispered, watching as he left, their fingers brushing as Steve held on until the very last second.

He sighed, shaking his head as he made his way into the classroom, trying to forget what had just occurred.

º º º

"How's he holding up?"

Rhett looked up from where he was throwing a blanket over Nicky's sleeping form, finding Steve standing by the door, groceries in hand. He motioned for him to come inside and place the bags on the table, closing the door and locking the deadbolts.

"He's pushing through the last leg of it, he'll be fine soon, but he's gonna need to see a backlog of patients," Rhett replied, reaching out and taking Steve's hand, leading him towards his room.

Ever since their little interaction in the classroom, the two had been much more touchy, Steve often placing his hand on Rhett's arm whenever he passed, Rhett tracing patterns into the other man's arm or back.

He closed the door behind him, speaking at normal volume. "How've you been, Steve?"

The other man sighed, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the desk. "I'm good. Pretty tired, though, the last few nights have been rough."

Rhett motioned for him to lie down on the bed, the other man happily complying, kicking off his shoes and settling on top of the plain blue covers. He scooted to the side and patted the space next to him, smiling up at Rhett.

The other blond snorted. "Inviting me to lay down on my bed, how hospitable of you."

Steve laughed silently, shoulders shaking, watching as Rhett stretched out onto the space next to him, pushing his glasses off his face, turning to face him. Steve's breath hitched when he caught sight of the familiar blue eyes looking back at him.

Rhett sighed and closed his eyes, settling onto the pillows. "Okay, I don't know about you, but I wanna sleep."

"I can leave if yo—" Steve began, only to have an arm thrown around his torso, pulling him until he was on his side, facing the other man.

"No," Rhett said, his tone final and his arm unmoving.

After the initial jolt of fear, Steve relaxed, reminding himself that it was only Rhett. That he was okay, nothing was going to hurt him, the war was over. The war was over.

"What're you saying?" Rhett asked, opening one eye.

Steve pursed his lips, heart racing; he didn't realize he had been saying it out loud. He forced himself to take deep breaths, focusing on the smell of Rhett's cologne that clung to his pillows, sheets, and clothes. It was fruity, nothing like gunpowder and blood and sweat and dirt and uniform.

"Hey, you're okay," Rhett whispered, his voice soft but distant, "Breathe, you're okay. No one's gonna hurt you, I'm here." It was as if he was reading off a script, but there was heart behind it and that was what Steve focused on.

Thankfully, because he hadn't gotten too far in, he was able to pull himself out easier than other times. He was just glad that he wasn't alone. It was always worse when he was alone.

Rhett didn't ask anything. In fact, he was completely silent, just closing his eyes, focusing on the sound of Steve's breathing, relaxing ever so slightly when he heard it even out. He didn't risk going to sleep, in case something else were to happen. He wasn't going to ask, though, it wasn't his place to.

He wasn't sure when he fell asleep—a man could only listen to the sound of breathing for so long until everything faded into nothing—but when he woke up, he found Steve drawing him.

"You're lucky you're pretty or else this would be very creepy," Rhett commented, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but not sitting up.

"You're lucky I already drew your face or else I'd smack you with this book," Steve replied, clearly joking, his voice monotonous as he focused on the sketch.

"Can I see?" Rhett asked, trying to move and peer over the other man's arm, only to be pushed back, falling agains this pillow lightly.

"No, this is just for me," Steve replied, his tone light, "Besides, now you moved so I can't the rest of it finished."

"Ooh, just for you?" he hummed, waggling his eyebrows, "What were you planning on doing with that, Steven? Why are you so upset that the lower half of me wasn't finished?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Reiser."

"Do you have something you want to share with the class?" he taunted, grinning madly. "You know, Steve, if you wanted to draw me, you coulda just asked." Shifting around, he tried to pose as seductively as he could, smirking.

"I wish you could see how ridiculous you look," Steve deadpanned, looking at him briefly before going back to sketching. He was frowning down at his work and Rhett toyed with the idea that, maybe, he was genuinely upset.

"Are you...actually angry with me?" he ventured carefully, unsure of how to proceed.

Steve frowned, lifting his head up to stare at the wall across from him and Rhett couldn't help the fear that filled him. He was upset with him, he would never want to see him again, he ruined everything, this man was the last link to his past and he scared him away.

The super soldier turned to look at him, frowning. Rhett braced for the inevitable. Then the frown melted into a smile and the man shook his head. "Of course not," he scoffed, "What—why would I be angry with you?"

Rhett sighed with relief, the arm propping him up giving out, his entire body slumping against the bed. He shrugged, avoiding all eye contact as he mumbled, "I dunno...stuff."

"Stuff?" Steve parroted, still smiling. Setting aside his sketchbook, the man shifted so he was facing Rhett, now on his side. "Rhett, you're a very easy person to get along with, it would take a lot for me to get angry with you."

Rhett had a feeling that there were a few things that, if revealed, would make Steve very angry with him.

He said as much and the man tilted his head, smiling at him almost patronizingly. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

The words nearly slipped out. Everything from his past to his feelings, Rhett nearly screamed out everything on his mind, his fear of how all he knew and felt could ruin what they had now, his stubborn refusal to let that deter him because by this point he didn't care, his desperate need for so much and yet his understanding that he didn't deserve anything at all.

"You're, like, my fifth favorite Avenger," he said instead, because not only did he have self-control, he was also a pathetic coward.

Steve burst out laughing, covering his face with his hand as his shoulders shook, causing the bed to creak and shake, and Rhett just wanted to cry. Cry and scream and maybe kiss him, he didn't know which one he wanted more, or in what order, but he wanted it.

"I also think you look pretty ugly with these on," Rhett mumbled, picking up Steve's glasses and examining them, catching sight of a grid pattern on the lenses as he moved them about facing the ceiling.

Steve threw an arm around him at that, tugging him back onto his side. Rhett leaned over the other man, placing the glasses onto the side table so it wouldn't get crushed. He wished he hadn't, however, when he pulled back, an arm still wrapped around him.

All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room as they stared at each other, barely any room between them at all. Steve's gaze darted from Rhett's eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. Rhett held his breath, lungs screaming for air, but his brain too afraid.

Rhett let out a short breath, leaning forward and closing his eyes.

There was a knock on the door.

The two men opened their eyes and sighed. Rhett groaned and dropped his head into the crook of Steve's neck for a moment, pulling back to look at the door, just as it opened.

Coming in was Nicky, his hair sticking up in all different directions, looking like a kicked puppy. One look at the two men on the bed was all he needed. He groaned, hitting his head against the wall.

"God, I'm so sorry," he mumbled, his voice quiet and hoarse, "I just...wanted to see if you were home."

"It's okay," Rhett said softly, standing up and placing a hand on his shoulder, "Are you okay?"

He nodded, sniffing. "Yeah, I feel a little better. I just—" he sighed, "Did you invite him to Friendsgiving?"

"Friendsgiving?" Steve repeated, propping himself up on his arms in a modified sitting position.

"Yeah," Rhett said, because Nicky was too out of it to, "Neither of us have family to go to for Thanksgiving, so we just do Friendsgiving. Do you want to join us, because we'd love to have you there."

Steve tilted his head and smiled. "Wouldn't miss it. Friend."

Rhett nodded. "Friend."

So close, but yet so far.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 12.23.27 )

I don't even know, you guys, but this was a chapter and stuff did happen (and a lot of stuff did not) so you know...we're nearing the end of Part One, so that's exciting, we have about two chapters left, I'm pretty sure, which I'm stoked about!

There's really not much else to say, so...thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! (also, by the time this chapter goes up, I'll be in the Philippines with little to no wifi, so if I don't reply to any comments, that's why)

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!