Whoa, big guy. (For assembles)

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Who: Steve Rogers & Brock Rumlow
When: Pre-TWS
What: Because some sleeping dogs just need to be called 'big guy' with a wink and lewd suggestion. It may as well be Rumlow to do so.
Warnings: Rumlow being Rumlow. Shameless flirting. Maybe dirty sweaty man sex.


Rumlow was still flicking slugs off of his armour when they disembarked from the quinjet. If he ever had to go back to Loreta, Columbia, he was sleeping in the trees with the damn jaguars rather than in the tent with the slugs. Damn things made a mess of everything.

Of course, the next mess was juggling twenty-four guys in a confined locker room who all were intent on getting out of their disgusting body armour and uniforms and leaving after a quick shower. He was one of the last ones in the cramped quarters, but really, compared to the quinjet they just disembarked from, it was pretty much home sweet home. At least there was less chance of getting slugs up the trousers or leeches in ones boots. Actually... as he looked around, there was plenty of opportunity for both. Home sweet home, indeed.

He pushed members of STRIKE Echo out of his way, but he simply wiggled passed members of his own team. People were making their way to the showers, which thankfully left him room to get to his locker. Captains were on the far end, including Rogers apparently, and he had a clean line of sight as he jostled his way to his locker to start stripping off his gear. Of course, he had to go passed Captain Rogers, which was always a goddamn treat. Only man who looked that good in underwear.

"Out of the way, Jenkins," he ordered, elbowing the lesser from loitering too close to Rogers. Kid just wanted a picture every single time. "Showers because you stink," he added, sending the youngest member of his team off but without a playful shove from the other guy. Just as planned.

He stepped backwards and bumped into Steve, his right hand going backwards as if to catch himself but really, it was so he could set it right on Rogers' right ass cheek. Damn fine. He pushed off as if correcting his balance and pretended to glare at Jenkins who was now hurrying off, leaving this area relatively alone.

"Sorry about that," he said, though he didn't mean it one bit. "Nice ass, big guy," he said with a wink as he reached out to open his locker and started to shrug out of his gear.

Comments

[assembles]

Steve had to admit, missions that took him into the jungle were a whole new world for him. Europe didn't have a whole lot of them, and that was where he'd spent all of his time during the war, so a mission like the one they'd just completed was one more thing to adjust to. Good thing that he was quick on his feet, and he had plenty of backup to rely on most of the time. Natasha hadn't been signed out on this assignment, so it had been Steve and the STRIKE team -- but they'd still infiltrated and took down the base they'd been ordered to target, and made it home with no lives lost.

Even Steve had to admit that the leeches were a problem, though. They seemed to really enjoy him in particular, maybe because his blood tasted different from a normal human's. The only good part was that Steve's strength was such that he could yank them right off of his skin with his bare hands, even if they did leave angry red welts in their wake. Those would fade soon enough, thanks to his healing factor.

He'd just finished disposing off all of the leeches and was planning to take a shower when a friendly scuffle broke out right next to him, and Rumlow got shoved in his direction. Steve usually didn't pay too much attention to what else went on in the locker room around him, but when it came to personal space being invaded--

It was an accident, plain and simple, but Steve's back still went stiff and straight as soon as he was touched. Rumlow pulled away as quickly as he could, and apologized as would be expected, but the compliment that came after caused Steve to laugh nervously and then look back into his open locker, as if he could shove himself into it and hide there. He wasn't nearly as self-conscious these days, sure, but that didn't mean that he handled this kind of thing well. He wasn't shy about people seeing him stripped down to his underwear or naked, even. It was the compliments, even if they were tongue in cheek, that made things awkward for him.

Besides, it was always a little tough to tell if Rumlow was being serious or not.

"Thanks, I think." Change the subject, change the subject. "We should probably get some of these guys sent down to medical." A few men on the team had been injured. It was nothing too serious, but Steve preferred to be safe than sorry. They had the resources, why not use them?

[assembles]

Life had gone on.

With missions keeping them busy more often than not, Steve and Rumlow couldn't always find the time to have these get-togethers outside of work. They fit them in when they could, until they became routine, and at this point Steve had even had Rumlow over to his place a few times, which was a pretty big adjustment for him.

It had gotten to the point where he couldn't just think of them as two friends hanging out on their off hours, either. What they were doing, they were dates. Natasha had even confirmed as much after Steve had described a few. She had also given him points for her surprising her -- of all the people for Steve to end up with, she never would have picked Brock Rumlow.

Steve wouldn't have either, but they complemented each other surprisingly well. Rumlow never pressured him to do more than he wanted to, but he was just bold enough to push Steve a little bit out of his comfort zone, which he needed.

Like tonight. They'd decided to go out and catch a movie. It was a low-stress kind of date where Steve didn't have worry too much about being spotted, since they spent most of it in a dark room. But partway through the movie, Rumlow started to get handsy, his palm moving from Steve's shoulder across his back and then down between his thighs to rub there. He didn't actually grab at Steve's crotch, but he got dangerously close, and by the time that the credits were rolling, Steve was officially frustrated. He stepped out of the theater half-hard and flushed like he had a fever.

While they had kissed plenty by now and even fooled around a little, they hadn't gone the whole way, so to speak, and yet right now Steve was so worked up that he could barely think straight. As they walked out of the building into the blissfully cool night air, Steve sent Rumlow a knowing look. "I was hardly following what was going on at the end there," he said, somewhat accusing. At least it had just been a mindless action movie.

"You're coming back to my place, right?"

If Rumlow said no, then he didn't know what he would do.