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

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He had a feeling that old man Pierce was perfectly content to let Rogers live looking backwards, skipping along at Fury's insistence to get back into the world. It was a dangerous game, but it was also one that Pierce couldn't yet get too involved in either, since the Secretary had given up the position of Director of SHIELD years ago. Fury was too sharp a tack not to notice Pierce butting in, regardless of how good of 'friends' the pair might appear. So, this was all left to the very notion that everything would be fine and once Insight was up, all of their big problems would take a large gauge bullet to the skull.

He liked to think that they could get a little more out of Rogers than letting the legend himself wallow away in whatever it was that Steve did alone all the time. Oh he knew the guy went out and about here and there, but there was a significant difference in being out in the world and being part of it. He wasn't entirely convinced that Rogers was on board anymore.

"Come on, we're a team, Cap. We look out for each other," he said with a wave of his hand, all casual. His other still made attempts at smoothing Steve's hair into place, but it slowly changed to just gently massaging the back of the super-soldier's head, no pressure to be anything more than the offered touch. "You can make up your mind or change your mind whenever you want. I'm not the type to get easily offended if you do change your mind. Do whatever you want."

[assembles]

A team, Rumlow called them, and that was true. Steve couldn't really say why he had never felt as close to the STRIKE team as he did to the Avengers, even though he had technically run more missions with the former. He figured it probably had something to do with all of the Avengers being a little quirky or different in some way. That, and the STRIKE team was compromised of a lot of guys. Steve couldn't expect to get close to each and every one of them, whereas the Avengers was only six people.

Rumlow might be one of the few who Steve allowed himself to get more friendly with, though. He'd already made the first step and then some, although it was nice to hear that there wouldn't be any hard feelings if Steve decided to pull back and return their relationship to something strictly business. It made it low pressure, which was exactly what Steve needed at this point in his life.

"Sounds good," he said, nodding and then slowly sliding away from Rumlow's touch. It wasn't that he didn't like it, but maybe that he liked it too much. He didn't know why he was so nervous about getting attached, but it probably had something to do with the fact that he'd lost all the people he cared about once already.

The next mission they went on, Rumlow could end up with his head blown off. He couldn't forget that.

"Weren't you gonna show me some of that stained glass work?" he asked, hoping that the subject change was a little smoother than it felt.

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He dropped his hand away when Steve pulled away from him, pretending to respect the super-soldier's decision to dictate this little meeting. He had already gotten further than he expected since the day started after all, so all this fun was just a bonus in his books. He also knew better than to push at such a tedious junction, wanting Rogers to come back to him willingly. That would make the trap snapping shut all the sweeter.

Unless it didn't happen, in which case, he'd be right back where he started edging towards putting a bullet in the back of the man's skull. Either way, he still won in his own mind.

The change of conversation didn't offend him, and he pushed himself up from the couch smoothly, dusting off the last of the crumbs from his thighs to the floor. He stretched again now that he was standing and then gestured for Steve to follow him as he moved around the couch towards the closed door that he had indicated his work was behind. "Fair enough, it's not much, but it keeps my time. No laughing."

He stepped over to the door and pushed it open, revealing a neat work bench, a light table, built in shelves specifically to hold stained glass. There was a small project laid out on a pattern, incomplete but set well. The two windows in the room had various small projects hanging, catching the light after he had turned it on.

[assembles]

Steve stood up a beat after Rumlow did, following him over to the door that would allow him a closer look into his apartment. He would never laugh, not at someone's artwork. That wouldn't do any good in helping someone to improve, after all. Constructive criticism was another story, but it wasn't like Steve had any skill with stained glass. He mainly stuck to sketching and painting.

When the door opened, he stepped in after Rumlow, arms hanging loosely at his sides as he took it all in. Everything was neat -- unsurprising, as Rumlow was a good soldier and seemed to enjoy being orderly even in his personal life.

The finished pieces caused different shards of light to spread out over the floor, washing it in color, and it made for a warm, peaceful atmosphere. Hardly the sort of thing that Steve would have expected from someone who seemed to take really enjoyment out of his work, given that said work often involved killing other people.

He took a few careful steps forward to examine the current project. "How long does it take you to complete each one?" he asked, his voice quiet as if he wanted to pay proper respect to the art around him. "It looks like pretty time-consuming work."

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He casually leaned on his hip on the work table and let Steve wander around his little work room. He watched Rogers with a benign interest, studying the fluidity of how the man moved and the easy way that Steve held a casual manner even when walking around his little private work room.

Steve was the first man he had let into this, though he had taken a ribbing from the fellow STRIKE members about it. It was a private matter, and it was a hobby that was both complicated, dangerous and required good manual dexterity and patience. This was something that he had taken up to wile away the few free hours that he was allotted rather than waste his time at pubs or parks or wherever else.

"Depends on the complexity of the cuts," he said simply. He finally walked over and ran his finger over a piece that he had traced out but not cut. There was a deep half wedge curve. "The in-curves like these are the most difficult. Say... you want to cut a piece?"

[assembles]

When Rumlow picked out a piece to show him, Steve wandered over, his hands in his pockets now to make sure that he didn't disturb anything around him. An artist's space had to be respected, and everything he'd seen here qualified as art. Who would have thought Brock Rumlow was capable of this kind of thing? Granted, Steve could understand why he'd never mentioned it. A lot of soldiers prided themselves on their "manliness."

Whatever that meant.

The offer to cut out a piece of the glass took Steve aback. For Rumlow to trust him with something he'd already put so much work into was a pretty big deal, in Steve's estimation. He couldn't imagine asking someone else to finish one of his sketches or paintings, for instance. Refusing would be rude, given the circumstances and what the offer meant.

"You'd have to walk me through it, but sure," he said with a brief smile as he examined the various tools that were set out for the process.

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Rumlow had enough scrap pieces in a dish that he could find one that Steve could try getting a cut on. He reached out, carefully pushing around the scrap pieces which ranged in colour and size and found a pretty blue that was certainly large enough for some playing around.

He set it on the work bench and traced a line on it with a fine sharpie marker, sliding the piece towards Steve so it was in front of the super-soldier. He reached out to pick out a cutter from his neat arrangement of instruments and the pair of well-used flat-headed pliers.

Then, boldly and without care, he set the cutter into Steve's hand, clasping that big hand with his own as he stepped in right behind Steve. He rested his chest to the other man's back and peered around Steve's arm. "It's like holding a pencil, and you don't have to apply much pressure. If you hear a sharp grinding noise, you're pressing too hard," he instructed softly. "Just apply the cutter on the edge and follow the line to its end."

[assembles]

Of course he picked the blue piece.

Steve watched as Rumlow gathered the few tools that were needed for the process, and while he could sense that he was going to come up behind him, he still tensed up when it happened. It wasn't that he actually minded Rumlow getting up close and personal. That would be kind of ridiculous, given that they'd been draped over each other not that long ago. But Steve wasn't used to someone being so casually intimate with him.

Still, he took the cutter and listened carefully to Rumlow's instructions. He didn't want to screw this up and have the night end with someone getting hurt, even if his own wounds would heal quickly. That might not be the case if he lost a finger or something, but this didn't strike him as too complicated. If it really was like holding a pencil and drawing a line, then he would be fine. He had a steady hand.

Doing his best to ignore the warmth of Rumlow's body behind him, Steve started at the top of the line, although almost immediately that grinding noise started, and he eased up some pressure. After that it went smoothly enough, and he drew the cutter down through the glass until the two pieces separated from each other.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," he said as he set the cutter down for safety purposes.

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He ignored the tension in Roger's body, able to use the excuse of instruction for the reason of his own antics. Besides, they had been lounging on the couch together and this wasn't that much different in his mind. Steve hadn't put up much of a fuss when he had been straddling the guy's thigh (and it had been a very nice thigh).

He guided without impeding the other man's motions, listening to the soft grind of glass and then the smooth cut. He hummed in appreciation and watched as the two pieces separated cleanly from each other with such a fine cut. Of course Rogers had those artist's hands that could make a difference and he knew Steve picked up on new skills readily.

"Nope, that's pretty darn good, Cap," he said and eased his hand away now that the cut was finished. He stepped to the side as well, since there was no need to be there with no more instructions necessary. "I bet you could be an old pro in no time if you spent a little time at it. I'd show you how to solder, but I don't have any pieces for that ready at the moment. You're free to cut more if you like."

[assembles]

Steve realized a long time ago that he was a pretty fast learner, given that he'd been thrown into a command position in the middle of the war and had actually done okay. At least up until he'd had to watch Bucky fall from a moving train, and had then crashed a plane and himself into the Arctic. But all of the other people he'd led, the rest of the Commandos and Peggy too, they'd gone on to live long, fulfilling lives. It had to count for something.

While Rumlow offered to let him do some more, Steve shook his head and placed his hands in his pockets. "I wouldn't want to take over what you're doing." If he was that interested in stained glass work, he could always pick it up himself. "Thanks for letting me try, though."

Steve took another circle of the room to inspect some of the finished projects, admiring the work even if he mostly remained quiet. He liked what he saw, though, and it was nice to know that at least one of his teammates was also an artist. "Do Rollins and the others know about this?" he asked eventually.

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"I can give you scrape pieces to play around with. Hell, I've got some beginner stuff if you want to learn," he said with a vague shrug of his shoulders. This was just a personal thing to give him something to talk about and to appear in public like some kind of normal person engaged in society. He'd taken the classes, shown potential, and kept up with it. No big deal.

He stepped back over to the table and shifted to clean up, setting the piece Steve had cut into his scrapes bin again. The cutter and pliers went back to their appropriate place within easy reach, and he reminded himself to do a quick vacuum when Steve had left. If Steve was leaving. He'd be fine the guy staying, but the blond wanted things 'slow'.

"No, I keep this sort of thing to myself," he said honestly. He glanced over to Steve. "You think tough guys like that would let me live this down without teasing me mercilessly?"

[assembles]

So Steve was right, and Rumlow felt that he needed to keep up some kind of macho persona when he was on the clock. It was a common enough thing, and it had been even during the war. Too many young men with too much to prove. Steve didn't really see the big deal, but then again, having to run around in tights with shorts over them had pretty much ruined whatever was left of his dignity.

"If you think about it, it's kind of any friend's job to tease you mercilessly." It was all about the intention behind it. Some people did that kind of thing just to be cruel, while a friend would mean it harmlessly. Steve figured that none of the STRIKE team would be bold enough to actually mock Rumlow openly, but he wasn't going to push the subject too much.

Still, Rumlow had shared it with him, which meant that it was kind of a big deal. "Well, maybe if I come back over, I'll mess around with this a little more. I don't really have the space at my apartment." It wasn't exactly a promise that he'd be back, but it was edging toward it. He eyed Rumlow with an easy smile. "Anyway, I guess I'll have to show you some of my sketches now."

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If he played tennis or went to bars or had barbecue cook-outs in his spare time, he'd have no problem letting everyone know about it. This was a little more sensitive given that everyone would want to see and then he just knew they would be reduced to slashing each other with glass. That was seriously a mess he didn't want to have to explain to anyone or clean up afterwards. It was hazardous enough for him doing it alone let alone letting a bunch of repressed sadists in here.

"Yeah well, I don't need all eleven of them coming at me at once. I'd have to punch them," he replied wistfully, more for the enjoyment of punching than because he would be subjected to that kind of teasing. He and STRIKE were close; they had to be given all that they were required to do. "This is just between us. You asked, and I agreed."

He nodded his head, intending to hold Steve to that even if it wasn't anything close to a promise. "I have the set-up and you're welcome to it," he remarked. "I think you're going to have to, Rogers. Or the next time I see you, unless you're inviting me to your place next time?"

[assembles]

It would be between them. A secret, or at least something that Rumlow wanted to keep on the downlow. Steve understood. He might come across as an open person on the surface, but there was a lot that Steve kept to himself. He had to. His team needed to always see him as rock solid, unflappable. He didn't think he'd be letting Rumlow see any of those vulnerabilities either. For the most part, Steve pretended that he didn't have them.

"Don't worry, I won't go spreading it around." He made a fist and held it up to his chest. "Promise." And Steve could be expected to keep those.

When Rumlow suggested that they meet up at Steve's place next time, assuming there even was a next time, Steve turned toward him, maybe a little too sharply. His apartment was the place that he went to unwind after doing his work for SHIELD, and it was supposed to be separate. He didn't know how he felt about joining those two parts of his life, but then again, Rumlow had done as much with him.

"Maybe," he said after a too long pause, and then he smirked. "I'd have to clean first." Which is an obvious joke, given how much of a neat freak he is.

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Rumlow knew that Cap was a man of his word, so he had no doubt that things were remain close to the chest between them. He doubted that Rogers actually wanted it out in the open too much that they had met under these kind of terms anyway, since the guy was painfully private at times. He suspected that this was also between them and in keeping it that way, Steve avoided a bombardment of invitations to go out with everyone else. Who knew, maybe things would develop the way that he wanted.

He raised an eyebrow at the reaction to his suggestion that they meet at Steve's place, and he held his hands up innocently. He didn't particularly care to placate Rogers, but it had to appear that way. He still wanted that nice gruff but interesting working relationship after all and that couldn't happen if he offended Cap here and now. No, he'd play his hand subtly.

"Yeah, just like I had to clean my place before you came over," he replied dryly but still winked. "You can bring your stuff over here instead. This can be our little secret meet-up place for as long as you want, Cap. Nothing wrong about it." He'd let Steve continued to illusion of privacy. He could better control the environment if it was his own after all.

[assembles]

It was a little unsettling to realize just how accommodating Rumlow had been this entire time. Then again, Steve also understood that he wasn't the easiest guy to befriend if it went past making jokes while on the job. He closed himself off in the way that people didn't notice at first, but he and Rumlow had been partnering up for a year now. It figured that he had his number at this point, and therefore knew what to say to keep Steve coming back.

Instead of trying to analyze every single part of this, though, Steve realized that he should just accept that maybe he had another friend in his life, even if it was an unexpected one. He never would have imagined becoming buddies with Rumlow before he entered the military, that much was for sure. Rumlow had a rough edge to him that probably would have rubbed Steve the wrong way back in the day.

Still, it had all worked out surprisingly well, if that kiss back there was anything to go by. Steve might just be able to let his guard down if they kept this up, and maybe that was what scared him most. "I appreciate it," he said eventually, as he started back for the door into the living area. "I mean, I know you don't have to do any of this. Offering up your place and all..."

Where was he even going with this? Steve sighed and rubbed at the side of his neck, looking over his shoulder at Rumlow. "I guess what I'm trying to say is thanks."

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If they got back the 'we only work together' part, Rumlow would be pleased and considered it a success to his job here. As long as Rogers was staying the course and no more aware of what was coming about, it would be fine and nothing would stand in their way. He had been assured that the pieces were moving well and as long as he did his job with STRIKE, the rest would just fall into place and keep going. It wouldn't be long now.

He just wanted a little bit more out of it because pushing some boundaries was very interesting in his mind. He had gotten a kiss, but he was willing to see if Steve would eventually give more if encouraged to do so.

The corner of his lip curled up in an amused smile. "You really need to get out more, Cap. I'm doing this because you're a good guy, and I want to get to know you better," he said simply, though it was only a partial truth. He still followed Steve out of the room and closed the door again.

"Your welcome, Rogers. I've got your back."

[assembles]

It wasn't such a strange concept, that someone might want to learn who Steve Rogers was outside of the confines of the mission. It was just that sometimes, even Steve didn't know the answer to that question. Where he fit into the world remained one big question mark a lot of the time. He had a place within SHIELD, but more and more it felt like he didn't belong there either. He couldn't always put his finger on why, but...

This might be a step in the right direction. Putting himself out there a little more wouldn't kill him, after all.

He nodded at Rumlow's last statement. He'd already seen how Rumlow supported him in the context of a mission, and now he wanted to do that outside of it too. If maybe in a less orthodox way than a simple friendship, but maybe it was time for Steve to branch out a little.

Steve turned to give the room another look, as if seeing it for the first time, and then headed over to grab his jacket from where he'd shrugged it off earlier. "I should probably head home, but this was... fun," he said, and when was the last time he'd called something fun and not been at least slightly sarcastic about it?

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The best part of this was that Steve putting himself out there back towards him might get the guy killed. That was just one of those silent jokes that was being played out without Rogers being particularly wise to it. Once it happened, well, it was going to be too late and that was that. He'd be fine saluting a corpse.

He tucked his hands into his pockets and swaggered lazily towards the door with Steve, not about to force the guy to stay. It wasn't like anyone could technically force Rogers to do anything. It was more laying just enough of a trail to make the guy walk that path consciously, which was the real exciting challenge of all of this.

"Yeah, it was a good time," he agreed with a nod of his head. "May as well end it on a high note, yeah, big guy? You are welcome to stay longer, but otherwise, I'll see you at work tomorrow." He winked at Steve. "And we'll do this again."

[assembles]

Rumlow had made the point many times, that Steve could have stayed the night if he wanted, but that seemed like a huge commitment given that this was his first time even coming over. He had a sense of what was polite, and while that may have shifted in the modern age, Steve figured it was best to go with what he was comfortable with. He'd already pushed far enough out of his comfort zone for one day.

We'll do this again, Rumlow said, as if it was already decided. Steve might have something else to say about that, but being gently strong-armed into it might just be a fate he would have to accept.

He didn't think it would be right to correct Rumlow on it, either, so instead he just raised an eyebrow and nodded. "All right. Thanks for having me." Once he was sure that he had everything he'd brought with him, which wasn't much, he headed to the door, offered Rumlow a quick wave, and headed off.

On the way down to his bike, he couldn't help but admit to himself that he'd had a really good time. Who would have thought?

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He gave Steve a mock salute in reply to the wave and let the man go without complaint. It was clear that Rogers was 'socialized out' at this point, and he knew better than to push too far beyond making it clear that he intended them to do this again. For Steve's own good, of course. Guy was like some workaholic hermit sometimes.

"No problem, big guy," he replied with a cocksure smirk as the door shut, and he was left alone in his place. He was still pleased as he walked over to the door and set the locks before padding back to the couch, intending to clean up.

Instead, he reached under the table and pulled the phone hidden up there in a secret compartment and seated himself. He pulled up Pierce's number and simply texted over the words:

Working a different angle. Will report any major progress.

Except when he wouldn't because there were some things that were for him and him alone. He just hadn't decided how shallow or deep that went.