You could see the steam tumbling out from the small crack, left open by the bathroom door, and you watched as it flooded across the floorwards. Rolling across the deep wood like fog spreading out across a vast forest, the clouds wrapping softly around your ankles as you stood near the doorway. You could hear the sound of the shower running through the thin bathroom door, and you knew that he was inside, as you listened to the pings of the water drops hitting the shower floor. If the steam wasn't a big enough clue. 

Steve never liked to completely shut the doors to the rooms he was in. It never bothered you though, in fact, if anything it made it easier to find him in the house. For somedays, he hid himself away after returning home from a long mission. And it felt like a savenger hunt just to find the man. You'd find him sitting out on the back patio alone in the rain sometimes, the screen door left with a small opening. Or you'd find him hidden in the living room, staring blankly at the wall as night fell upon the quiet house, with the sliding door left nearly completely open. At first, it frightened you. Not knowing where Steve had disappeared to, especially when you could see the struggles in his eyes that he tried so hard to hide from you. You worried, a little too much sometimes, but now it seemed as though a normalcy every time he returned. You would find the room with the door not completely shut, and you would enter quietly, knowing he was inside. And you simply sat with Steve Rogers, until he was ready. Ready to talk, ready to look you in the eyes, or ready to simply move on from the casualties he had to witness on his mission.  

Whatever it was, and however long it took, you would always sit there waiting. You would always find him, and you would always be there waiting until he was ready.

Your palm pushed gently against the slightly warm bathroom door, and you stepped into the humid space quietly. Your footsteps silent against the white tile floor as your eyes swept over the small room. The fluorescent lights shone brightly, and seemed to almost reflect in the mirror, creating an even stronger since of brightness in the bathroom. But some of the light was skewed by the steam that seemed to create a thick cloud within the small space. And it completely coated the mirror in a thin blanket, and it warmed the atmosphere around you instantly. The humidity had picked up the rich scent of Steve's shampoo, and it filled your senses with a heavy and yet comforting warmth. For the entire room smelled of Steve. 

You could make out his figure slightly through the marbled shower door; it was merely a shadow in the shape of his unmistakable body. But it was enough to make your heart flutter as it always did when you saw him, and your eyes shut tightly for a moment. Feeling as the anxiety, that had risen in your chest during your search for Steve, began to settle at the sight of him. 

Shutting the bathroom door carefully, you turned and walked towards the middle of the stuffy bathroom. As you began to strip from your current clothing, you watched as they bundled into a messy pile at your feet against the tiled floor. Whereas Steve's laid in a perfectly folded pile that rested on top of the closed toilet seat lid. Walking out of the comforting cotton, you could feel the stickiness of the humid air touch your bare body. And it almost felt as though you were going to start sweating right there. But walking the few steps forward, you touched the side of the door softly and slid it open slowly. 

His bare back was facing you as you stepped into the small and very steamy shower. Steve's head was casted downward as you watched the water run down through his beautiful blonde locks, and you took a step towards him. His slightly tanned skin almost looked red from the spray of the water that washed over his body. And as you were a step behind the taller man, you felt the water touch you. And it burned. It felt like someone had boiled water in a pot over the stove, and poured it over your bare body. But biting through the pain, you reached your arms out, and slid them around Steve's warm torso. 

You could feel the muscles in his back tense slightly, as he reacted to the sudden touch of another, but he soon relaxed when he knew it was only you. You rested your cheek against his smooth back, and could feel each breath he breathed in. It was a lulling feeling, a lullaby only he could play for you.

"Are you okay?" You breathed against his now blotchy skin, the water still burning your arms under the hot spray. 

And you could feel the rumble within his chest, as he hummed softly. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just one of those days, you know."

You had long ago stopped prodding him for more information, stories perhaps, from whatever mission he had come home from. Because you knew he didn't like to share those kinds of things with you. He returned home and simply wanted to forget, and live life with you until the next one. But you could see the toll it took on him, to keep it all inside and put up this front that he was perfectly fine. That he wasn't bothered by any of it, that it didn't drain him of all his energy.

Your grasp loosened as Steve began to twist inside of your embrace, and soon he turned to face you. And his back took on the spray that had been burning your skin, as you looked up at his blue eyes that seemed to be the brightest thing now in the dense bathroom. His hair dripped water that slid down his broad and chiseled chest, but your eyes stayed focused on his own. 

It was something you had always loved about Steve Rogers. You could both be as bare and vulnerable as you were now, and yet all that either of you could do, was stare deeply into each other's eyes. It didn't matter that your naked bodies were nearly pressed together in a thick and steamy bathroom. Your connection seemed far deeper than the physical attributes of your relationship.

Your eyes didn't move, but your hand reached around Steve to reach the washcloth that rested on a far hook. The fabric was soft in your hands as you felt it become weighed down by the warm water, and you brought it towards yourself. It was only then, that you broke your steady eye contact with Steve. And looking down towards his smooth chest, that still had remains of dirt or some kind of smoke, you pressed the washcloth gently against his skin. 

You could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingers as they worked tenderly, to wash away the grime coating his tired body. It felt heavy; like the drenched washcloth you used. And you knew it was because he refused to let any of his emotion out. Steve Rogers had so many emotions, you always knew he was that kind of man. But he didn't always let them out, for he feared they would burden you. And in a selfless act, he carried the unrelenting weight around with him. 

You always wondered if that was the reason he kept the doors open. If it was his way of unconsciously, letting the things that plagued him escape through the cracks and disappear without a second thought. For if the door was shut, he would have no where to go. The things he thought and the things he felt, would be trapped in the room with him. And he would finally have to face the things he banished through that of an open door.

"You're always so strong for everyone, all of the time," Your voice was calm and warm, as the washcloth carefully removed the memories of the place he had been from his body. And even though your eyes were focused elsewhere, you could feel his gaze upon you. For it was like a beam of warm light floated across your body. "but you deserve to have a moment of weakness too Steve."

You finally looked up then, as your fingers stopped guiding the now discolored cloth against his skin, and met his kind eyes that looked at you with a deep emotion hidden behind them. 

"It's alright to surrender for a little bit Steve," You whispered, and you knew your eyes were speaking your words louder than your lips were. "I'm here. I've got you."

Steve's lips parted softly as he absorbed your words as his skin did with the water that rushed over him. And you thought he might say something in the silence that followed, but he didn't. He simply looked at you with relief in his beautiful blue eyes, with love in the features of his warm face and exhaustion in his body that seemed to sag softly against the wall of the shower. 

"Rest Steve," You breathed softly. "you deserve it."

Even the strongest, most courageous and selfless soldiers needed rest. They held the world on their shoulders, protecting and putting everyone ahead of themselves. But there had to be a time for them to let go of it all, and allow themselves to be unapologetically human. Even a super soldier, meant to withstand almost everything and anything the world could throw at him, needed a moment to rest.

And Steve Rogers rested well that night, in the security of your awaiting and loving arms. 

A/N: I've had this one shot written for quite some time now, going back and forth on whether or not to share it. But after rereading it months after I actually finished writing it, I saw that although this one is short and not as full of dialogue, there's still something deep and beautiful to it. I hope you all liked it and I would love to hear what you thought!💙