RHETT HAD A ROUGH MORNING. He woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, plagued with nightmares that he couldn't remember. He heard Nicky shouting from the other room, shocking him into action.

Bursting in the other man's room, he struggled to wake him up. It was a regular occurrence for Nicky to be plagued with nightmares and memories so strong that they were enough to cause him to react while still asleep. Rhett still had yet to come up with a system to calm him down.

After waking him up, the two, shaken and upset, sat at the dining table with mugs of hot chocolate that were only made when one of them really needed comforting. Neither spoke, the two just sitting there as they tried to calm themselves down, the others' presence enough to help.

Nicky headed to his room first. Normally, the man was always the one to wait until the other person or people he was with to leave first, wanting to make sure they felt comfortable and safe. But in these circumstances, after a very long conversation, it had been made known that he was always to head to his room first.

Rhett's thoughts were less damaging than Nicky's were, so he could afford to sit by himself. Nicky, on the other hand, had to stay with someone until he felt safe enough to head back to his room, where he would either distract himself in his work or go to sleep.

It seemed that the time he spent helping Tony convinced him to find time to separate his two jobs and sleep. One of them had to be swimming to keep the other from drowning.

Rhett headed to his room about ten minutes after Nicky. He waited until then because it took the man roughly that much time to fall asleep if he started right away, and it would help him knowing that Rhett headed to his room right away as well.

It was their system and it worked. The two were generally very easy-going, but there were times where everything became too much, and Nicky was the universe's apology to Rhett for everything that had happened to him.

He appreciated the apology more than anything else in the world

º º º

The rest of the morning, after he woke up, was also very rough. His alarm hadn't gone off—time, once again, letting him down—and he had to run to school instead of his easy walk, which was his regular. It was only when he was halfway there that he realized he left his lesson plan, so he had to call Nicky, the man still asleep when he left.

Because they were just returning from the weekend, the kids were less than willing to cooperate with him and he was trying as hard as he could not to yell; he never liked yelling at kids, he knew what that did to them and he'd rather not aid in the damage.

"Mr. Reiser, which superhero is the best?"

Rhett, who had been working yard duty that day, turned to find a group of students who had left his class two years prior. Now at fourth grade, they were nearing the age where schoolyard drama became a very prevalent creature, or at least Rhett had observed.

He scanned over the various faces, trying to gauge the best answer, so as not to get himself pulled into what looked to be a war just waiting to happen.

"I think the best superhero is the one who cares about the people they take care of and works well with others," he said carefully, avoiding all eye contact, staring at a fixed point in the middle of the group.

They all sighed, clearly unimpressed with his blatant cop out. One of them spoke, "No, we mean which super hero. You know, Iron Man or Thor or Captain America."

"Or Black Widow!" one of the boys chimed in.

"What about Hawkeye!" a few chorused.

"Or the Spider-Man," one offered, "Does he count?"

Rhett had to bite back a grin at the mention of the younger, newer hero, knowing that he'd be thrilled to hear that he was starting to become a household name. He faltered, knowing that the reason why was because of his fight in Germany and possibly the plane crash with the Vulture.

"I think they're all the best," he said, "You can't compare people who are all so different from each other. They all have their own strengths and differences. It's like apples and oranges. They're both fruit and they're both healthy, but they're different."

"Apples are better," one kid said.

"No, oranges!" another cried.

"You can't compare them," he sighed, "Because apples are different than oranges. Sure, one might taste better to you, but that's because it's not the other. Captain America might seem better to you, but it's not as if Iron Man isn't equally awesome in his own way."

"Well," one of the girls said, eyeing him carefully, "Who do you like the most. The one you like, not the one that is best, but what you think."

He smiled, surprised by the nuances in her question; for a fourth grader, it was a very sneaky question. "I like the Falcon the most."

"Who?" one of the kids asked, looking at him like he had just admitted to having six toes.

"The guy with the wings!" a girl said, smacking his arm.

"The bad guy?" the one who had mentioned Spider-Man gasped, looking up at Rhett in horror.

"No, the other one!" another chimed in, "Why's he your favorite?"

Rhett shrugged, already trying to inch away. "My roommate likes him a lot, so he's my favorite too. If my friend likes him, he can't be all that bad, right?"

There was a pause. In that pause, Rhett decided to step away slightly, letting the group have their space. As he continued to monitor the grounds, he heard their voices carry towards him.

"I guess Cap's pretty cool too."

"Yeah, Iron Man isn't so bad."

"Thor's kinda awesome, I guess."

"Yeah, so's Hawkeye."

"Girls can be heroes too."

Rhett grinned as he listened to the conversation, moving farther away so as not to eavesdrop. He had to admit, that was a nice thing to hear, especially after his difficult morning, and he held onto the good feeling even when the bell rung.

After giving his lesson and letting the students go off and try to finish the practice problems he had given them, going to check later on to make sure they understood, he took the time to check his schedule, then his phone.

to: "Grant" (10:55 pm)
I think I can make it. How does
4:30 sound?

The reply was instantaneous and he hated at how excited it made him. He was a twenty-eight year old man, he shouldn't be so jittery, especially since he was in class.

from: "Grant" (10:56 pm)
Sounds great, see you there

Putting away the phone, he cleared his throat, covering his mouth to hide his smile, going back to his work, standing up and helping whatever student had their hand raised, frowning down at their paper or another student, less than pleased with the situation they were having to face.

By the end of the day, he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and collapse in his bed. But he said he was going to meet Steve, and he was willing to push through for that.

So, when the clock hit four and he was able to lock up and get going, bringing the rest of the work he couldn't finish during his hour, he made his way to the subway, taking the train to Manhattan.

Hopefully the day would get better from there.

º º º

Someone had spilled coffee on his shirt.

He was walking into the cafe and, not looking where he was going, rammed right into a woman who was rushing out. He had caught her, steadying her to keep her from falling over, but was not able to save himself from the scalding hot coffee.

"It's fine," he gritted out, eyes clenched together from the pain, "I'm alright. Go on, it's fine. I'm sorry about your coffee."

"I'm sorry about your shirt, oh my gosh!" she cried, checking her watch on impulse, "Ah, I'm sorry, can I give you money for a coffee or a new shirt, I have an interview—"

"Go," he interrupted, "Go to your interview, I'll be fine, thank you. Good luck!"

"I'm so sorry," she said, trying to move towards him, only for him to wave her away, backing into the cafe where some people had paused to look at the scene with varying degrees of sympathy or mirth.

He sighed and caught sight of one of the people working who motioned him over. He smiled at them as he made his way over, glancing down at his completely ruined blue shirt. So much for looking nice.

"Thanks," he said, taking one of the shirts that they sold at the place, "How much is this."

"It's fine," she said, smiling, "I see you here a lot with your boyfriend, I figured it was the least I can do. He's sitting over there now, want me to bring you your usual? It can't be on the house, unfortunately."

"That's fine, and yes, please," he said, moving into the back room, quickly switching out his shirt while she politely turned away, "And he's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, your husband, then," he said, smiling, "I don't see you wearing a ring, though...fiancé?"

He couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity, shaking his head as he balled up his shirt. "No. He's just a friend."

"Oh..." she drawled, looking slightly embarrassed, "Oops! Sorry about that. Er, on second thought, the first round's on me. My mistake."

"It's alright, I'll pay," he said, giving her a good natured smile, "You in college?"

"Undergrad," she replied, "I'm trying to get my way to medical school, really. Online courses and all that."

"Hm," he said, tugging a few twenties out of his pocket, "Mind tossing in a drink for my friend too."

"Yeah, of course," she said, taking the bills and scurrying over to make his drinks, ignoring the whispers from her co-workers.

Rhett, trying to find the positive side of everything, smiled as he sat down across from Steve who had watched him approach, adjusting his glasses with a small smile playing on his lips. When he sat down, the smile blossomed into a larger one, a small laugh escaping.

"You look like you've had a very long day," Steve said, grinning.

"God, you have no idea," Rhett groaned, pushing up his own glasses to rub at his eyes, letting them fall back onto his nose, "How's it going? What should I call you?" He glanced behind him, making sure no one was listening in.

"Grant," Steve replied, smile faltering, "That's what I go by now."

"Grant," he repeated, "Okay. Well, Grant, how's it going?"

"It's going alright," Steve said conversationally, glancing down at his sketchbook, "I punched a Nazi in the face today, so all in all, it was a good day."

At Rhett's shocked look he added, "There was a huge crowd, no one took a picture, I'm positive of that, it's fine."

The other man sighed. "Good. I'd hate for you to get caught after doing the one thing you were basically trained to do."

"Oh, the irony if I had," Steve said, shaking his head and closing his sketchbook, looking back up at Rhett, "How's your day been, it looks like you could use an ear."

That was all the push Rhett needed to launch into the tale of his day, starting with what happened with Nicky—staying as vague as possible, but getting the stressful point across—to the end of his school day, which hadn't come soon enough.

"Sam is your favorite?" Steve asked, when Rhett finally finished his story, taking a long sip of his long cooled down coffee.

He scoffed, nearly choking on his drink. "That's what you gathered from that?"

"Yes!" Steve cried, lowering his voice immediately afterwards, "I don't blame you, of course, he's is a good man and should be trusted, but I thought I would be number one."

Rhett coughed, laughing. "I didn't say that he was my favorite, I said that he was Nicky's favorite."

"But you didn't tell the kids that I was," Steve pouted, and Rhett burst into a round of laughter, doubling over, not caring if he drew any attention to them because he really needed the laugh.

When he finally finished, he sat up and found Steve sketching in his book, glancing at him with a small smile, leaned back in his seat. The other blond tried to look at the drawing, only to find a hand shielding his view.

"Can I see?" he asked, leaning back in his seat.

"No," Steve said, closing the book, "That's just for me."

Rhett raised an eyebrow, wondering what Steve could have drawn that he hadn't wanted him to see. Deciding that he wasn't going to pry, he changed the subject, launching into the story about what had happened just before he saw down, which he had omitted from the initial story as Steve had been there and witnessed it.

"That was nice of you," he said, commenting on the part where Rhett gave the girl some money.

"I just..." he began, trailing off, "I like to help where I can, it's the least I can do."

Steve hummed, looking at him with an expression he couldn't place. It wasn't negative or judgmental, which was all that really mattered at the moment. After everything that happened, he just wanted things to be as simple as possible.

"Are you still off work?" Rhett asked, remembering the comment Steve had made the day before.

"Yeah, I head back on Wednesday," he said, nodding, "I just needed to be sure."

Conversation went on from there, the two finding that it was easy for them to find new things to talk about as they had spent a lot of time together, finding questions to ask, stories to tell, and comments to make.

"There's a diner here that's still around," Steve said, jerking his thumb behind him, "Same as it was back in then, still family owned. It's like time just stopped there."

Rhett smiled, knowing exactly what diner he was talking about. "Is it nice?"

"Still as great as it was back then," Steve said, grinning, "I should take you some time."

There was a pause. A pause where Steve realized what he had said and was gauging Rhett's reaction, while the other man was trying to see if he had meant it in the way he had thought it had, or if there was another meaning there.

"Yeah, sure, why not? I usually just get takeout, might as well find someplace new," he said, finally, deciding not to dive too deep in just yet.

Steve sighed softly, nodding. "Great. Where do you go, I'm still trying to find a place I like that doesn't charge up the ass."

Rhett laughed and listed off their usual places, adding on a few of the ones he and Nicky sometimes frequented in case Steve didn't like their choices. He watched as the man pulled out a smaller book, jotting down the names.

"Is that just filled with restaurants?" he asked, grinning.

Steve chuckled softly, pocketing the book. "No, it's just filled with pop culture I need to catch up on. Movies, music, TV...I've missed out on a lot."

Rhett understood that perfectly. Luckily for him, however, he had Nicky to help him out. "Do you still have a lot to catch up on?"

"Nah, I wouldn't say..." the man began, flipping through a few pages, frowning when he flipped through more than five, "Okay, maybe I do. I'm a busy guy, I can't "binge" the entire Friends tv show," he defended, finger quotes included.

Rhett laughed, shaking his head. "Hey, if you ever want to binge, you can come over to our place. We've got Netflix, Hulu, and a bunch of DVD's. And don't even get me started on music."

Steve smiled wryly. "Taking me home?"

Rhett, trying to hide his shock as he was not about to be blind-sided by the Captain's surprising comment, motioned towards the complimentary coffee. "I bought you a drink, didn't I?"

Steve scoffed, glancing away, trying to hide his smile. "Do I look that easy?"

Rhett hummed noncommittally, shrugging. He laughed as Steve scoffed, pretending to leave. It was then that he remembered that Captain America was also a twenty-eight year old man who was sitting at a coffee shop, talking to a man that he'd been silently sitting with for two weeks.

So much for things being simple.

"I might take you up on your offer," Steve said, "About the movies. So far, I've only been here, my apartment, and work. It'd be nice for a change of scenery."

Rhett snorted. "Not much scenery, let me tell you. But, yeah, just text me when you're free, we'll work something out."

"Well, I'm glad this worked out," Steve said, nodding, "I should probably let you get to your grading."

"I can do it here, if you want to stay," Rhett said quickly, as Steve stood to leave.

"Are you sure, because I you need to head home, I—" he began, motioning towards the street.

"I mean, if you need to head home, then I'll go, but if you want to stay, I'm happy to stay, so..." he trailed off, fiddling with his bag.

"Okay," he said, sitting back down, "Fine by me."

So silence descended upon the two, reminiscent of not so long ago. The comfortable silence was there once again, but it was different.

The first was a silence of comfortable strangers. Of people barely acquainted, but whose lives intertwined just enough for there to be a routine.

This silence, however, was the silence of friends. Nothing more, but certainly nothing less.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 11.29.17 )

I'm so glad that I actually was able to write this, and look! I have an entire chapter already set up, I'm actually writing this story! I might actually write a sequel for a story of mine! And I will hopefully get it done before Infinity War! Maybe even the third story, though that's a huge stretch.

Anyways! Gosh, it's kinda hard to write their interactions, not gonna lie, I'm having a bit of trouble writing Steve, but whatever. Also, I know that my age for him might be off from what the movie's is, but! I have my own backstory for it, and if you wanna hear it, I can explain it, so...yeah.

I don't have much to say so...thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!