On missions, Rumlow was the complete package of professionalism. He didn't so much as toe the line unless it was to save one of his men or to complete the mission objective when someone else failed in their duties. He was tough but fair with his men, and he could take a dressing down as well as he could take a dressing up. He admitted to enjoying working with Rogers who was all smooth orders, impossible odds, and the kind of man who brought out the best in the team be never shying away from the dirty work and following the rules just like them. Despite the chain of command, they were in some ways on equal footing with Rogers.

It would make it far more enjoyable that way when they finally made the patriotic bastard choke on a grenade. Woo-whee.

Their lockers were close enough that they could easily maintain the conversation, and now they were basically alone. It was against SHIELD and government protocol to be allowed to have listening and viewing devices in the change areas as it was a breach of privacy. That didn't mean he was going to step over that line in the sand too far, even as a joke. Besides, having an overnight bag was just plain logical; who knew with a secret cult society was going to be revealed to exist and Rogers would go off a nut about it?

"No? Come on, I happen to know my couch is very comfortable. You can ask Rollins if you don't believe me," he said but took no offense to Steve refusing to stay. It didn't take the whole night for a blow-job. At least... he hoped it wouldn't take all night or he'd be tired in the morning.