s. rogers + spoons

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"it's a lot." a plate of bacon, fluffy eggs, steaming coffee. chocolate chip pancakes, because it's a special occasion. "but your ma wouldn't let you stay over unless i promised to feed you."

steve chuckles. "it's perfect, baby, thank you."

logically, he should have stayed at his ma's. he could've transferred his things directly from his dresser into his suitcase, saving the trouble of packing until the last minute. instead, he dragged his luggage to your apartment to spend his last night with you.

to be fair, on the brink of him leaving for france, you and steve haven't exactly been acting logically. his mom understands, thankfully; you need your space.

you also need to pick her up and get to the airport within the hour, so after watching steve search your utensil drawer for several seconds, you tell him, "your big spoon's in the sink."

you didn't wash the dishes. you should've. but it's better this way, because with a smaller spoon, steve can't demolish his food at his usual pace. you get to watch him. savor him being here a little longer.

"what's wrong?"

he's halfway through his pancakes, and you haven't even sat down. you've grabbed his hoodie strings and crossed your wrists over his chest, bringing the nape of his neck to your forehead. "are you still gonna like me when you get back?"

"that's not funny." he wedges your arms apart and positions you on his lap, yet you refuse to meet his eyes. "why would you say that."

"we're so—new." you add hastily, "and exciting, but—"

"is that a bad thing?"

"france is also new and exciting," you explain, biting your tongue. "and temporary."

"but..." his fingers curl into your soft pajama pants. "we're not temporary."

"i know." god, you've only dated a few weeks, and you already don't know what you'd do without him. "i know that, steve." a sigh. "but we're not even a month in, and it's been so good, but soon we're gonna be an ocean apart, and it won't be as good anymore."

"maybe." he blinks at you. "but y'know i've had a crush on you since sophomore algebra?"

you smile at your hands, intertwining with steve's in your lap. "i didn't tutor you until senior year."

"exactly. so a few months apart won't change how i feel." with a kiss to your cheek, he reclaims your attention. "you bought a spoon for your apartment, just for me. and a fork." steve frowns childishly. "if that doesn't scream serious, committed relationship..."

full of fondness, you swipe a thumb across his lip. you wanted to save the sketchbook for your goodbye at the terminal, but maybe now's the right time. "i bought you another gift, actually."

he shakes his head. "later." you shiver when his big hand cradles your jaw. "gimme another kiss, before i go."

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