#cappletini

Steve Grant Rogers tends to overthink things, make sure and double sure that everything is all right with everyone. He’s not a people pleaser by a long shot, but he knows the team works better when everyone gets along. Sometimes, he does it too well that he forgets what he wants – gets to caught up in the mantle of Captain America that he forgets that there is even a Steve to begin with. 

He forgets there’s a Steve even now a year into his retirement. He still finds people to help, picks up odd jobs here and there. Somewhere along the line, he forget that he wanted a good life, a wife, maybe a couple a kids and a big dog upstate – all the things he had been promise after all the warfare. 

It took him awhile to find someone that sparked that wish in him, but he found them – found you in a little dingy bar near Chicago. That bartender that just curses a bit too much (more than him and he’s an old solider) but is nice to all the gals that need help getting rid of some creep or is watching over who is drinking what.  

The owner always tries to step him up with some pretty gal, but his eyes always end up glancing at the bar. Soft smile and a wink here and there. Sometimes, he thinks its friendly or strictly professional, but never in that way -- and good to you hate him for it. 

 He always stays until closing on your night shifts, sometimes (like tonight) and even shares a couple of drinks with you, talking about simple things. Though, this time your frustration leads to talking about past relationships.  

“So, have you ever thought of anyone seriously since?” you can’t help but ask, looking at him from across the counter top with bright, hopeful eyes as he finished talking about a Sharon Carter --now happily married-- from a few years back, “Maybe some of the gals Tate tries to have you look at?” 

“Yes, but not them,” he explains bashfully, as he rubs the back of his neck. 

“Oh, then who?” you can’t help but ask, to hope just a little. 

“I think I better go before I do something I might regret,” he states, but rather weakly as your hand on his wrist stops all movement. Blue eyes turn to look at you, and you suddenly understand who he is talking about. 

“Would you? “Regret it with me?” you question in the most heartbreaking sort of way that makes him sit that down.

“No, never,” Steve tries his best to explain, make up an excuse that he might not be there all the time -- that there things he stills wants to see, “It just isn’t the right time.” 

“Rogers, sometimes I think you need to follow that old saying,” you state with a slight tease before going in for the kill, “Grab life by the horns.”

You do it for him, grab his chin and lean into the counter top pressing your lips together until the position starts to burn at your muscles and you need air. You separate and there’s a hazy look in his eyes, as you let out a soft laugh. 

“See. Was that so hard?” 

Work had been hell with meetings and papers to grade before the day was done, not to mention all the million other things you had to do for Monday since you were starting a new section in the English Literature book. It wasn’t that you hated your job, it was just that sometimes the students could be draining, the administration sucked, and you weren’t  getting paid enough for everything you put into teaching your little munchkins. At least, you left earlier than you had in recent weeks, which you could probably spend time with your live-in boyfriend.

The hours in recent weeks hadn’t been kind to either of you, barely seeing each other outside of going to sleep and waking up, and you were hopeful that you could spend some time this weekend together – the thought of seeing him tonight had been crushed earlier in the day when he had texted you explaining he was being held up by some clients.

Right now, the thought of the sweet man was the only thing that was stopping from committing murder on the subway, as your body swayed to-and-for just a bit too much due to the woman standing in front of you. It didn’t help that you had been standing for the past couple of hours teaching. You let out a tired sigh and feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, ready to burst open until you hear the voice of an angel ready to save from the terror that is the NYC subway system.   

“Take my seat, sweetheart,” you pause at the sound of a familiar voice, as you glance to see a blue eyes giving you a caring but worried look. He stands up and pulls you down, as you let out a light groan over letting your feet finally rest.

“Thank you, Steve,” you murmur as he smiles, though you are bit unsure as you why your boyfriend is riding this line back home when Stark’s Law Office are in the other direction, though there is time for questions later as he gives you a tired smile and you can tell he has had a long day as well with how crumpled and battered his black suit looks.

“Don’t worry, we’ll stay in and nap the whole weekend away,” he tries to be positive while rubbing your back as you give him a weak smile. And while work had been hell, the promise of being at home with the one you loved toppled all that.