The water was boiled, and Steve poured it into two mugs. His coffee was creamy, with just the right amount of sweetness, while Rod's was black, spiced with a hint of ginger to help him stay alert. It was night watch time in the watchtower, and they had to stay awake until sunrise.
The job was simple: shoot any visible mutants, protect the bunker gate from any threats, or just keep an eye out for any unexpected visitors. It sounded like it could be dangerous, but in reality, nothing ever happened. This was the most relaxing task, especially for night owls like them. The steady silence of the night was calming, and the darkness stretched on like an endless blanket, wrapping the world in peace.
"Could you make one for me too?" A man's voice interrupted Steve's quiet moment. He turned to see a man in his mid-thirties, with a thick beard and long, shaggy hair. His appearance could use a bit more grooming to look more presentable, but his smile was warm enough.
Steve glanced at the man's empty mug, then up at his face. "Oh, the water's only enough for two. You'll have to wait," he replied with a nonchalant shrug.
The man smiled again, clearly unfazed. "I don't mind waiting."
Steve caught a glimpse of the man's name tag. It read "Bruce." With a slight tilt of his head, Steve acknowledged him with a polite nod before turning back to finish preparing the coffee for Rod.
"You're new here?" Bruce asked, settling into an empty chair, his eyes locking onto Steve's with a softness that was hard to miss—there was a definite hint of affection in his gaze.
Steve chuckled lightly, taking a sip from his mug before responding. "Well, no," he replied, his voice teasing, as if enjoying the curiosity Bruce was expressing.
Bruce furrowed his brows, a playful yet intrigued expression on his face. "Why have I never seen you before?" he asked, tapping his finger lightly against his lips, clearly interested in engaging Steve in conversation.
"Maybe because I didn't used to wear makeup, earrings, or necklaces," Steve shrugged, a chuckle escaping him as he thought about how much makeup could completely change someone's appearance, much like a beard.
"Fair enough," Bruce nodded thoughtfully, a small smile curling on his lips. He seemed content with the answer, but his curiosity didn't seem to fade. He leaned in slightly, then launched into a series of random questions, small talk meant to get to know Steve better. Steve, being the friendly and open person he was, answered each one casually, offering honest responses without giving too much away. He made sure to keep things light.
After a moment, Bruce's hand slowly moved across the table, and before Steve could react, Bruce placed his hand gently on top of his, his fingers brushing against Steve's. His eyes never left Steve's as he asked, his voice soft but with a directness that caught Steve slightly off guard, "Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend?"
Steve hesitated, momentarily caught off guard by the question. He glanced down at their hands, then back at Bruce's sincere expression. He pondered his response, thinking about his situation with Rod. They weren't exactly official, but calling Rod "babe" had almost become a habit. Did that mean he was his boyfriend?
He cleared his throat, trying to make light of the situation. "Uh..." He stalled for a moment, his mind racing for the right words, unsure whether to clarify his complicated situation with Rod. "Well, I'm not sure if calling someone 'babe' counts," he said with a wry smile, trying to keep the tone playful. "But I think I might be taken."
Bruce leaned in closer, his presence feeling heavy as his voice dropped to a teasing whisper. "You think you might be taken? Why hasn't the situation escalated between the two of you?"
Steve's brows furrowed slightly. "Well, maybe because... we want to take things slow?" he said, trying to maintain his composure. His attempt to pull his hand away from Bruce's grip was futile. Bruce held on firmly, not giving him a chance to escape.
"Ah, so he chickened out from taking action?" Bruce smirked, his gaze darkening with an underlying challenge. "I think you need a real man..." Without hesitation, he leaned in, moving to kiss Steve.
But Steve wasn't about to let that happen. He quickly shifted to the side, trying to pull back, but Bruce followed him with relentless determination, he even grips Steve's wrist. The space between them closed, and Steve's pulse quickened with a mixture of irritation and unease.
Just then, the sound of footsteps on the tower stairs caught their attention. Rod emerged from the shadows, his backpack slung over his shoulder. As soon as he saw Bruce's hand still on Steve's, his cheerful expression instantly shifted to something far more serious. His eyes narrowed, and the air around him seemed to tense as if he were ready to pounce. He was about to bark and bite if needed.
Steve managed to break free from Bruce's grip, rubbing his wrist as he turned to face Rod. His voice came out a little more strained than he'd intended, but he still managed to stay calm. "Hi. Help?" He gave Rod a subtle, almost relieved look.
Rod, pausing halfway up the stairs, rested one hand on the railing. His posture was casual, but his expression was far from it. He tilted his chin, a clear sign of disapproval, his eyes still locked on Bruce. "I don't know if we got third parties," Rod spoke with a hint of dryness in his tone, "Usually it's just the two of us."
Bruce simply raised an eyebrow, his smile unbothered. "I'm here just for the coffee," he said casually, as if the entire situation was no more than a minor inconvenience. "On my tower, they don't have more water."
"Which tower are you at? You're Jayson's partner, aren't you?" Rod stepped into the tower, his eyes still sharp and calculating as he sized up Bruce.
"Well, yeah," Bruce shrugged nonchalantly, unfazed by the question.
Rod didn't waste a second. His fingers cracked audibly as he clenched his fist, his expression dead serious. "Go back to where you are, before Jayson finds your wife and snatches her from you."
Bruce chuckled, a low, amused sound that didn't seem to take Rod's threat seriously at all. He smiled widely and then turned his gaze back to Steve, winking playfully. "I'll see you soon, beautiful."
Rod stood still for a moment, the urge to kick Bruce out of the tower bubbling up, but Steve's hand on his arm kept him from acting on it. Steve gently pulled Rod back in, a quiet but firm touch to remind him to stay calm.
"So, how is it?" Steve asked, his tone shifting to something lighter. "Did you manage to buy the instant noodles you craved so much?"
Rod rummaged through his backpack with a grin. "Not only that," he said, pulling out a handful of letters and handing them to Steve.
Steve raised an eyebrow and took the letters from him, his expression shifting to one of mild confusion. "What the...?" he muttered under his breath as he examined them. The scent of perfume lingered in the air. "These are from girls!"
"Yeah," Rod grinned, crossing his arms as he watched Steve's reaction. "They sneaked out of the ladies' chamber just to send these through me. Seems like it's not just the uncles stalking you, but the ladies can't resist you, too."
Steve, with a faint shake of his head, put the letters aside without reading them and rummaged through the backpack further. "Did you bring the nuts I asked for?"
"Yeah," Rod said, taking a sip of his coffee and blowing on it to cool it down. "And Jake asked me to give you this bread."
"Jake?" Steve blinked, clearly puzzled. He had been meeting so many new people recently, and they all seemed to know him but he couldn't keep up with their names. "Who's that?"
"Well, he claimed he was your special one," Rod replied, his grin widening as he leaned on the table.
Steve sniffed the air with a teasing smile. "What's that? Jealous?"
Rod raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his coffee. "Why should I be? He doesn't get the luxury of having his shirt stained with your makeup."
Steve laughed softly and leaned in to hug Rod, poking him playfully on the cheek. "Admit it, your blood boils."
Rod set his coffee mug down carefully and met Steve's gaze with a challenging look. "What if?"
"I hope you didn't give them a sucker punch," Steve said with a mock-serious tone. "I swear, I can't let you wander off alone. I'm worried you'll get yourself in trouble, and if the visor sees it, they might have a reason to separate us."
Steve rested his chin on Rod's shoulder, his voice lowering into something gentle. "You know I don't want that."
"I know," Rod said, giving Steve a reassuring look. He made an 'okay' gesture with his fingers. "No worries, I do as you said."
Steve's awareness of the dangers that came with his new appearance and openness about his femininity wasn't unfounded. Despite how much he enjoyed embracing his true self, he couldn't ignore the unwanted attention it sometimes brought.
As they walked through the bunker's corridors, Steve's senses become sharper, he could already feel the eyes on him, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. There was a subtle but undeniable difference now in the way people looked at him. Some eyes were filled with admiration, others with contempt, and there were those who looked like they were trying to figure him out, not sure where to place him in their mental boxes.
It wasn't just the curious glances, though. In the showers that morning, Steve had felt the weight of stares on him, even as the water ran over his skin. He couldn't escape the feeling of being watched, and that alone made the act of showering uncomfortable. He tried to brush it off, telling himself he was just being paranoid, but the feeling didn't go away.
"It's tough to be this gorgeous, everyone just staring," Steve said, trying to brush it off with a relaxed comment, despite how uncomfortable he truly felt.
"I miss the days when no one bothered to stare when we're in the shower..." Rod grunted.
"Oh, right, I could put the makeup away back in the cabinet..."
"No, no, don't!" Rod hurriedly stopped Steve from carrying out that thought.
Also, the other day in the cafeteria, things had escalated. Steve had been casually chatting with Rod as they ate, when Rod stepped away to refill their drinks. In the span of those few seconds, a man—a soldier he barely recognized—slid into Rod's seat and leaned in, placing a hand on the edge of the table near Steve. The bold move had caught Steve off guard, and the man's eyes were too intense, almost predatory.
"You are so beautiful," the man had said with a crooked grin, his voice dripping with unearned confidence. "Are you gay?"
"Excuse me," Steve said, ignoring the man's approach. "That seat's taken."
But the man just kept moving forward, even placing his arms around Steve's shoulder, as if caging him in. "Can I have a kiss?"
"W-what?!" This man must be crazy. Who wants to kiss before even knowing the name?!
Without waiting for Steve's answer, the man leaned in to kiss him, not letting go.
But then Rod spilled his drink on the man's head, and the two quickly got into a fist fight. They were soon pulled apart before the visor could hear about it and find out what had happened, saving Rod from detention.
Steve paused, deep in thought. He had always relied on Rod for protection, not just because Rod was strong, but because he felt safe with him. But let's face it; Rod could not be forever by his side. There will be times where he has to do his own things, or life might find a way to separate them. When it happens, what would Steve do? Could he remain his true self without getting himself in danger?
He couldn't just lean on someone else forever. He had to be able to protect himself, but in a way that still honored his true self—his gentleness, his kindness, and the lightheartedness that he cherished.
Without realizing it, Rod's hand was around his waist, pulling Steve away from his thoughts and closer to him. He seemed to be in a romantic mood right now.
Rod wrapped his hand on Steve's hand, and then kissed Steve's cheek.
"You have to be possessive since your boyfriend is highly in demand, right?" Steve teased, letting Rod shower kisses on his face and neck.
"I'm just wondering what's on your mind," Rod asked gently.
"Oh, just... some things." Steve hesitated, rubbing Rod's hand with his own. He decided to let it out. "I feel conflicted right now. I'm happy I can express myself, but at the same time, it seems to attract the wrong kind of attention... the creeps."
Rod smirked. "You could just tell them you prefer hot dogs."
Steve burst out laughing at the joke. "Really? And what if they don't care and just throw themselves at me, no matter what my preferences are?"
Rod shrugged. "Then you can dodge, and maybe they'd land in a pile of bull crap."
Steve shook his head, chuckling. "You're not wrong, actually."
"Steve, what's wrong with you?" Rod asked, his tone soft but concerned. "You used to have the best comebacks ever. Now you're so serious. Back then, no one could outwit you. You always outsmarted everyone."
He's right, Steve thought. It feels like fear is killing my creativity.
"Calm down and think, Steve. You're way smarter than everyone down there in the bunker—even Cezar or the doctors," Rod said with a nod of assurance.
Before they could continue their conversation, someone called from the radio communication.
"Is Rod there?" the voice from the radio asked.
Rod was about to answer, but Steve grabbed his face and kissed his lips. Then, he patted Rod's cheek while smirking, "Now you can answer that."
Rod, a bit flustered, answered the radio call. "I'm here."
"I need someone to check into the forest because I saw some weird movement. You and Jayson, go check the forest," the voice from the radio commanded.
"Got it," Rod said, taking his rifle and preparing to leave the tower.
However, Steve felt something wasn't right. He held Rod's hand. "Cutie, wait." He placed a ring on Rod's index finger, but then he smirked and moved it to Rod's ring finger.
"Why?" Rod asked, feeling awkward wearing any accessories like this. But it was a titanium black ring with golden lining—the ring Steve always wore.
"It's my lucky charm. It will protect you with its good luck," Steve smiled.
"I'm just checking the woods," Rod said.
"Yes, but... anything can happen," Steve tried to brush off his worries.
Rod kissed Steve's fingers. "I'll be back sooner than you think."
"You better be." And with that, Steve let Rod go. He watched from the tower as Rod climbed down the stairs and met Jayson on the ground. Together, they walked into the dark forest with limited light.
Just after Rod left the tower, Steve found himself all alone. A sense of unease crept in, making him feel both worried and uncomfortable. It wasn't just the thought of mutants lurking in the darkness or the ominous shadows surrounding him—it was something deeper, like the nagging feeling of being watched, as if someone's eyes were fixed on him from his blind spot.
He tried to calm himself, taking slow, steady breaths and reassuring himself. Rod would be back soon. Everything was going to be alright... or so he told himself.
Then he heard some noises from below the tower he was guarding.
Grabbing his rifle, Steve rush into the tower's side and pointed it downward, but he was quickly shocked to see Bruce and three other men are climbing the tower. They were laughing and giggling with one another.
A deep unease settled in Steve's chest. In the back of his mind, he realized it must have been their plan all along—to send Rod away from him so they could come after him now that he was alone.
Bruce and the other three men finally arrived in front of him, cracking crude, aggressive, and sexual jokes. Steve noticed that one of them was sitting on the stairs, blocking his only escape route.
"Now, babe..." Bruce made his move, bold and aggressive as usual. "Finally, the third wheel is gone. Now we can have some fun."
Rod's words echoed in Steve's mind: "You used to outsmart everyone."
I need to calm down and think. I can handle this. Steve tried his best to steady his anxious heart and let his brain take control of the situation.
Meanwhile, Bruce had cornered him, cutting off any chance of escape. "Not only is his skin soft, but he smells so good. It's been too long since I touched a woman—feminine boys will do."
"He looks uncomfortable with you, Bruce!" one of the other men chuckled.
"He will soon," Bruce replied, placing his hand on Steve's hips and closing the gap between them. "Now, babe, give daddy a kiss..."
Steve slipped out of his arms like a fish. "Really? So straightforward. I'm so dry right now. No wonder you haven't gotten laid—you've got no game."
The other guards—Bruce's friends—burst into laughter, mocking him.
Feeling challenged, Bruce folded his arms and smirked at Steve. "I don't need to beat around the bush. A real man knows what he wants, and he'll do whatever it takes to get it."
He stepped forward and pulled Steve into his chest again. "And what I want right now, babe, is you. Forget your stupid boyfriend. Someone here is offering you real status. We can burn up the bunk every night."
Steve didn't resist when Bruce pulled him closer this time. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a sly, almost amused smile.
"Real status, huh?" Steve's voice was calm but sharp, carrying just the right amount of mockery. "You mean real status like the kind you get from being the most persistent cockroach in the bunker? Or are you talking about the 'status' that comes from wearing a beard so thick it probably has its own ecosystem?"
Perhaps because the three friends who were supposed to back him up in intimidating Steve had now turned against Bruce, laughing and clapping, Bruce's grin faltered. But Steve didn't stop. He stepped forward, keeping his piercing gaze locked on Bruce as he continued with biting sarcasm.
"I mean, I get it," Steve said, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. "It must be hard being Jayson's backup dancer. When a boy half your age actually scores more than you at the party! Oh, he could probably steal your mother's heart!"
Bruce's jaw tightened. It was true—since the party, his mother hadn't stopped talking about how charming Jayson was. But before Bruce could use his toughness to intimidate Steve, the femboy delivered another jab.
"And offering to 'burn up the bunk every night'? Sweetheart, the only thing you're burning is bridges—and probably everyone's patience with your prehistoric charm. But hey, at least you're consistent at being annoying and delusional. That's impressive in its own way."
"Yo!! This boy cooked Bruce alive!" Bruce's friends laughing hard.
Bruce's smile had vanished entirely now, replaced by a scowl, but Steve's words kept coming, sharp as ever.
"And let's not even start with this whole 'real man' nonsense," Steve added, waving a hand dismissively. "If you're the gold standard, I'd rather date a feral mutant. At least they have the decency not to corner people with bad cologne and worse pickup lines."
Bruce stepped forward, ready to hit Steve, but his friends grabbed him, stopping him from hurting the femboy.
"Whoa, whoa! Hang in there, Bruce. No violence!"
"I have to teach this boy a lesson!" Bruce growled, his fists clenched. "Leave my mother out of this!"
"Also," Steve added, with a calm smirk, "I've installed a secret camera somewhere, and I'll show the footage to the visor tomorrow. If you touch me—even a single hair—I guarantee I'll get the justice I deserve. So, you better be wise, Brucey!"
"That's it. Let's leave now, Bruce. No chance," his friends said, dragging him out of the tower. They knew full well the kind of punishment they'd face for bullying and abuse. One by one, they left the tower.
"Anyway," Steve called out, waving goodbye to the four men, "if you think you're my type, you're sadly mistaken. I have standards—and a nose! Good luck finding someone who doesn't gag at the smell of desperation. Toodles, boys!"
After they left, Steve exhaled. His anxiety was gone, replaced by a proud sense of accomplishment as he regained his lost confidence.
A few minutes later, Rod returned, grunting in disappointment. "Nothing. We didn't find anything in the forest."
Steve, however, looked noticeably happier than before.
"What happened? You look happier," Rod asked.
"Nothing," Steve replied, hugging Rod and brushing dust off his jacket. "I'm just so grateful you came back without a scratch."
"I'm glad to see you back at ease, Steve," Rod replied, a soft smile tugging at his lips.