Rumlow had about as much shame as a two-cent whore, and he wasn't afraid to push his way around even his own men to get what he wanted. They all knew that he was ruthless and tended to make room for him when he was in the mood to flex his generally smaller shoulders. They all knew he'd knife them later if they didn't let him go about his business when he chose to do so.

His elbows bumped on Steve as he maneuvered in the spray of water, his own skin shedding its fair share of dirt and grime. He used soap liberally as men began to clear out slowly, taking his time to remove the dirt, sweat and foliage that had collected from sleeping in wet uncomfortable places.

He glanced over at the question, and of course Cap thought that he couldn't just bask in the guy's gleaming presence. He looked back but the other men were cleaning up and ignoring them pointedly. Good. He looked at Captain Rogers again and let his eyes crawl over the other man's skin from the top of Steve's head right down to those wet toes.

"I've been thinking," he said as he applied shampoo to his hair. "You seem like you spend way too much time alone, and that's a damn shame. What do you say to coming to my place and watching a baseball game?"