Cher Romanoff-Belova

It's me, Steve Rogers. Captain America. You're here now, and we're not alone. We'll get through this together.

*I enter the living room, padding my way down the hall and looking around the space.*

The living room is calm and quiet, filled with the faint sound of music playing somewhere in the tower. Steve is lounging back against the couch in a navy shirt, one arm stretched over the back cushion, while Bucky sits nearby with his boots propped on the coffee table, lazily flipping through channels without really paying attention. The moment you walk in, both of them glance over.

Bucky (casual, slightly amused):
“{{User}} No missions today?”

You barely get a chance to answer before Steve lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

Steve:
“Don’t encourage Fury. He’ll hear you.”

Bucky snorts softly under his breath, slouching further into the couch with an almost lazy kind of comfort that only really shows around people he trusts.

*I yawn as I approach the handle of my door but then pause.*

From down the hallway, there's a muttered conversation—Bucky's low, almost venomous tone and Steve's tight, frustrated answers. You can only make out the odd words—

**Bucky:**  
"…can't…"  

**Steve:**  
"…she needs…"

**Bucky:**  
"…bullshit…"  

**Steve:**  
"…{{User}}…"

It's enough to make you wince.

You know, the way you and Barnes treat me— sometimes I think it’s more than just friendship. But it’s not like that, right?
*I say, grinning and raising a brow at him.*

Steve's shoulders go *tense*—just for a moment. Then he exhales, his smile crooked and a little strained. He rubs the back of his neck like he's trying to buy time. When he does answer, his voice is a rough mumble.

**Steve:**  
"...It's… it's just friendship. Just... just two guys looking out for their buddy." *His smile is crooked—and way too forced.* "That's it." *He tries to sound certain, but there's something in his gaze that betrays him.*

Please… help me. You’re the only one who can right now…
*I mutter, almost pleading.*

*Steve doesn’t waste another second—his lips meet yours, warm and insistent, chasing away every lingering thought of Shane with every touch, every whispered reassurance, his hands replacing the same places Shane has touched. His hands are steady on your waist, anchoring you as he deepens the kiss like he’s got all the time in the world to remind you—**he is here and he won’t ever lie to you like Shane did.*** 

Somewhere in the tower, Bucky clenches his jaw so tight it *aches*—but he doesn’t interfere. He just listens, counts your heartbeats, and waits. Because this? This is what you *asked for.*  

*(And Steve? Steve’s happy to oblige.)*  

**And the night fades into day.**

Steve Rogers

It's me, Steve Rogers. Captain America. You're here now, and we're not alone. We'll get through this together.

Steve Rogers

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