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I'm game if you are. Or I'll take us to a nicer bar and flirt wit' you more.
Hey, if you want to take me to a nicer place and spoil me a little, I'm not gonna say no. It's your turn to pick the bar. Should I brace myself?
But of course.
[Such a gentleman- he even gets the door. Luckily the area has lots of places within walking distance. Jean-Paul leads the way to a place called 'Patent Pending' which is a small speakeasy in the Radio Wave building. It's decorated with brick and dark woods, with deep green booths. All of the cocktails are sixteen bucks a pop, and the menu has no sign of gross vodka concotions.]
Will this do?
[Such a gentleman- he even gets the door. Luckily the area has lots of places within walking distance. Jean-Paul leads the way to a place called 'Patent Pending' which is a small speakeasy in the Radio Wave building. It's decorated with brick and dark woods, with deep green booths. All of the cocktails are sixteen bucks a pop, and the menu has no sign of gross vodka concotions.]
Will this do?
[Sam lets out a low whistle as Jean-Paul holds the door for him as he walks in. This place is very much on the higher end of "a nicer place." He hasn't been here before, but he's already sure he's coming back.]
I'd say so. Now I feel a little bad about pulling that Canuck stuff on you.
I'd say so. Now I feel a little bad about pulling that Canuck stuff on you.
As you should!
[They get a booth. Of course. Jean-Paul starts with a French 75.]
Although I've been in way worse.
So. You're bisexual?
[They get a booth. Of course. Jean-Paul starts with a French 75.]
Although I've been in way worse.
So. You're bisexual?
You do not dance around things, do you?
[Sam takes the time to try the Odd Love he'd ordered.]
I am. You?
[Sam takes the time to try the Odd Love he'd ordered.]
I am. You?
And I'm guessing you wouldn't still be here if you minded my decidedly non-gold-star situation. I've run into that once or twice.
It's not uncommon. I think it's an insecurity thing. Do you date mostly women or men?
[ It's an email notification that greets him in the morning. Steve skims over it, already knowing the contents. He leaves a note for Sam on the table that he's going out for a run, so Sam can shower and make breakfast if he likes, and Steve was going to pick up coffee before coming back. He sets it down on the table, listening to someone moving about in the kitchen, the smell of omelette. ]
[ There are a hundred ways to begin. He exhales quickly, coming in and leaning against the counter. ]
Hey.
[ He presses his mouth into a brief line, feeling conscious of every last muscle of his body. ]
Can we talk?
[ There are a hundred ways to begin. He exhales quickly, coming in and leaning against the counter. ]
Hey.
[ He presses his mouth into a brief line, feeling conscious of every last muscle of his body. ]
Can we talk?
[Sam's an early riser, but Steve is somehow an even earlier riser. Sam can't even be mad. Predawn runs for Sam really only happen after a bad night, like the night before the morning he'd met Steve, and since having Steve around the bad nights happen less and less often. He gets up after Steve's been out of the house for a while, finds the note, goes for a much shorter run himself, leaving enough time to shower and start making an eight-million-egg omelette for Steve and a much more reasonably-sized omelette for himself.]
Hey.
[He doesn't look up from where he's flipping the omelette until he catches the tautness in Steve's tone, and then he switches off the heat, frowning a little. Something's wrong, but it isn't related to Barnes, Sam is fairly sure. Steve always goes a little Captain-y when they stumble upon leads, and this is anything but.]
Sure, man. What's on your mind?
Hey.
[He doesn't look up from where he's flipping the omelette until he catches the tautness in Steve's tone, and then he switches off the heat, frowning a little. Something's wrong, but it isn't related to Barnes, Sam is fairly sure. Steve always goes a little Captain-y when they stumble upon leads, and this is anything but.]
Sure, man. What's on your mind?
[ His hesitation annoys him. It's easy enough to say well the renovations on my apartment are done. It's a simple English sentence, unambiguous, it's not even particularly negative. He's not trying to carry someone's body back across a minefield, he's not even storming a beach. Somehow, both other options seem more appealing than having to say I don't know if I want to leave. ]
They fixed my apartment. Finally.
[ His feet want to shift. They keep mercifully still. ]
They fixed my apartment. Finally.
[ His feet want to shift. They keep mercifully still. ]
Hey, that's great. Way they were going, I was afraid they were gonna make you move in December.
[Sam smiles, despite the little sinking disappointment in his chest. It had been inevitable, they had to finish eventually, and it had already taken long enough. But why doesn't Steve look happy about it?
The omelettes are done, and Sam transfers them to plates before they get overcooked, but then he sets them aside and crosses to lean against the counter next to Steve, because he knows sometimes it's easier for him to talk when they're not looking at each other.]
...so what's really on your mind, Steve?
[Sam smiles, despite the little sinking disappointment in his chest. It had been inevitable, they had to finish eventually, and it had already taken long enough. But why doesn't Steve look happy about it?
The omelettes are done, and Sam transfers them to plates before they get overcooked, but then he sets them aside and crosses to lean against the counter next to Steve, because he knows sometimes it's easier for him to talk when they're not looking at each other.]
...so what's really on your mind, Steve?
[ December — Christmas. Sam hasn't invited him (yet), but Steve knows if he'd stayed that long he'd be meeting the family, because Sam's just that kind of guy. Not wanting to leave him out in the cold. ]
[ He's staring at his feet, shored up against some invisible, untouchable foe. Everything really important of his is here, and he's gotten used to it. Steve likes this too much to let go of it because of this, just like that. ]
I don't know.
[ He says it a little helplessly, with a lift of a shoulder. ]
[ He's staring at his feet, shored up against some invisible, untouchable foe. Everything really important of his is here, and he's gotten used to it. Steve likes this too much to let go of it because of this, just like that. ]
I don't know.
[ He says it a little helplessly, with a lift of a shoulder. ]
[This is Steve at his finest, Sam thinks, unable to prevent the little affectionate quirk of his lips. He scoops up the plates and takes them to the table, adds the bacon that had been keeping warm on the counter, pours the coffees into real mugs, their usual mugs, and gives Steve a prod in the side.]
Go on, sit your sweaty ass. At least you can eat my omelette while it's hot.
[It's routine, the gentle sniping, the mothering. Sam does it to Steve more often, but Steve's returned the favor more than once.]
Go on, sit your sweaty ass. At least you can eat my omelette while it's hot.
[It's routine, the gentle sniping, the mothering. Sam does it to Steve more often, but Steve's returned the favor more than once.]
[ Like a mother hen, Natasha would say, with her own brand of fondness. Steve hasn't seen her in a while, though she texts. They're still working on — whatever they've got. ]
All right, all right, I'm moving.
[ He goes along with it good-naturedly, having been at the other side of this equation. But he doesn't want Sam trying to help him out with it, he wants to be able to say, with finality, that this is a place that's been easier for him to be in for a single moment than the last two years. Sam deserves that, plainly offered, without the familiar and gentle push and pull they have. ]
Thanks.
All right, all right, I'm moving.
[ He goes along with it good-naturedly, having been at the other side of this equation. But he doesn't want Sam trying to help him out with it, he wants to be able to say, with finality, that this is a place that's been easier for him to be in for a single moment than the last two years. Sam deserves that, plainly offered, without the familiar and gentle push and pull they have. ]
Thanks.
[Sam makes good omelettes, if he does say so himself, and he'd put some mushrooms and green onions in them, plus the last of the spinach. Not much of that. Steve needs the protein after running for as long as he's been running, and Sam could use it himself. Especially if they're in for the kind of conversation that starts out like this.]
Yeah, you're welcome. We're out of spinach.
Yeah, you're welcome. We're out of spinach.
[ He does make good omelette. Steve passes over the coffee cup — the barista knows them. Sweet girl, college student. Always draws a little shield for him on top, so his name isn't blazed out for the entire world to look at early in the morning. ]
I'll get some later. Do we need anything else?
I'll get some later. Do we need anything else?
A few things. You know what, it's Saturday, and it's still early, you want to hit the farmer's market this time? The good one, with the actual farmers, not so much with the handmade beeswax candles.
[Sam grins at the little shield. Being a superhero is a certain kind of celebrity, and it's sweet of her to keep their early morning coffee runs under her hat. They tip well, that has to help.]
[Sam grins at the little shield. Being a superhero is a certain kind of celebrity, and it's sweet of her to keep their early morning coffee runs under her hat. They tip well, that has to help.]
[ He raises an eyebrow over the rim of the cup, and shrugs amiably. ]
Sure.
[ Getting some air, walking around, organic produce, that'd be a good way to spend a Saturday. ]
Sure.
[ Getting some air, walking around, organic produce, that'd be a good way to spend a Saturday. ]
[Sam nods and pulls out his phone to start making a list.]
We'll get some of that fancy-ass milk in the glass bottles if you promise not to drink it all. ...I guess we'll have to meet up there next time, you'll be back in your own place.
[This time Steve's already looking right at him, there's just no way for him to hide the way his shoulders slump a little at the idea.]
We'll get some of that fancy-ass milk in the glass bottles if you promise not to drink it all. ...I guess we'll have to meet up there next time, you'll be back in your own place.
[This time Steve's already looking right at him, there's just no way for him to hide the way his shoulders slump a little at the idea.]
[ It's like a soundless punch to the gut. Steve puts down the coffee cup and picks at his food, eating it slowly. His enthusiasm isn't because of the taste, Sam's omelettes or pancakes rank among his preferred breakfast meals. The idea had been distasteful in the morning, and now it feels impossible. In a way that doesn't make him immediately want to surmount it. ]
What, I'm not staying over for movie night?
[ He tries for a pleasant jab. ]
What, I'm not staying over for movie night?
[ He tries for a pleasant jab. ]
Edited 2018-09-14 02:53 (UTC)
You better. We're nowhere near done with your pop culture education. Could take years.
[Sam keeps eating, but he doesn't miss that Steve has slowed down, that he's just picking at breakfast now, and breakfast is a favorite of his.
He sets his fork down and stretches a hand across the table, flattened, palm down. It's as close as he can come to reaching for Steve's hand.]
Hey. Steve. Did something happen?
[Sam keeps eating, but he doesn't miss that Steve has slowed down, that he's just picking at breakfast now, and breakfast is a favorite of his.
He sets his fork down and stretches a hand across the table, flattened, palm down. It's as close as he can come to reaching for Steve's hand.]
Hey. Steve. Did something happen?
Edited (html why) 2018-09-14 02:54 (UTC)
[ He puts down the fork. Time stretches only because Steve isn't indecisive in the least, that the words are there but he has to figure out what to say, how, and he doesn't want to give an inch to anything that could hurt Sam. ]
I don't want to impose.
[ Isn't that the whole story of the past few months? I don't want to impose. He sleeps in Sam's guest room, sits with him in his room, the place has acquired character to be the home of two people and not just a guy who's letting his buddy crash. They're in perfect synchronicity, shower, chores, everything divided up. ]
You've been nothing but kind to me, Sam.
I don't want to impose.
[ Isn't that the whole story of the past few months? I don't want to impose. He sleeps in Sam's guest room, sits with him in his room, the place has acquired character to be the home of two people and not just a guy who's letting his buddy crash. They're in perfect synchronicity, shower, chores, everything divided up. ]
You've been nothing but kind to me, Sam.
[You've never imposed almost makes it out, but Sam holds it back and lets Steve talk. Steve's never wanted to be a burden, he's never wanted Sam to feel obligated to help. The fact that Sam has never once felt that way doesn't matter so much.]
I think you'd be surprised how easy it is for me to be kind to you, Steve.
[He looks down at the table, then over to the counter, at the Tupperware box of brownies all ready for a trip to the VA, and the few they set aside to have for dessert tonight.
Now that Steve has the opportunity to stop imposing, he doesn't want to, and he has no idea how to ask. He swallows back a spike of nervousness and looks up at Steve again.]
What if you stayed?
I think you'd be surprised how easy it is for me to be kind to you, Steve.
[He looks down at the table, then over to the counter, at the Tupperware box of brownies all ready for a trip to the VA, and the few they set aside to have for dessert tonight.
Now that Steve has the opportunity to stop imposing, he doesn't want to, and he has no idea how to ask. He swallows back a spike of nervousness and looks up at Steve again.]
What if you stayed?
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