HAPPY BIRTHDAY STEVE, YOU'RE OFFICIALLY 100 AND JUST AS OLD AS BUCKY
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The two of them walked along the crowded sidewalk together. There was a rush of people still heading towards the train station so that they could hurry up and get to work for the day, but the sidewalks soon thinned out after a while, leaving more room for Steve and the other man. They didn't talk much on their way back to Steve's apartment, mainly because the stranger wasn't sure if Steve would be able to even form words. So, he decided he didn't want to stress the other man out even more than he was by forcing a conversation upon him.
They eventually arrived back at Steve's apartment. He was barely able to afford to live in it, despite the small size and somewhat run-down look of the building. "Is this where you live?" The brunet asked after a moment. He wasn't trying to be rude about it, he just wanted to know if this was where he and Steve parted ways.
"Y-yeah," Steve nodded, ducking his head down sheepishly. "I know it's not much, and it looks kind of like a dump, but it's all I can really afford." He pulled the key to his apartment out of his pocket, pushing it into the keyhole in the door and turning. After he got the door unlocked and opened up, he turned around to look at the other man. "Do you want to come inside? I can make you a cup of tea or something; it's the least I can do for you helping me."
The stranger gave a nod at his words almost immediately. He knew he should probably be heading to work, but he also wanted to make sure that Steve was truly okay to be on his own again. "Sure, that seems nice," he replied.
Steve nodded, leading the other man inside. He cheeks became flushed when he realized how much of a mess his apartment was, and how he should've cleaned up. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I'd be having someone over," he quickly mumbled as he set down his shoe shine box and went over to the couch and coffee table. He swiftly cleaned off the couch and coffee table the best he could of old newspapers, pieces of garbage, and dirty dishes that needed to be washed. "Feel free to take a seat!" He exclaimed as he went into the kitchen, putting the dirty dishes in the sink to wash later. The newspapers and garbage went into the trash can. Steve filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove, turning the burner on so the water could heat up.
"What's this?" The man in the living room asked, drawing the blond out from the kitchen to see what he was talking about.
"What's what?"
"This," the other man stated as he held up a sketchbook that was open to one of Steve's half-finished sketches of a building.
In his haste to clear off the coffee table, Steve had missed his sketchbook. "Oh, uh....." he began, his cheeks heating up even more. "I like to draw. I'm probably not very good, but I do it anyway. It keeps me busy when I'm not shining people's shoes. It also helps me with my anxiety sometimes, and I can distract myself from freaking out and having an anxiety attack. I like sitting outside and sketching people. Or places too, those can be fun to draw. Or sometimes I like to draw—I'm sorry, I'm rambling right now," Steve apologized, feeling bad for suddenly going on a long rant about drawing.
The stranger shook his head, smiling lightly at the blond from where he was sat on the couch. "No, it's fine. I don't mind at all." He fell silent for a moment, looking down at the incomplete drawing for a moment. "Can I look through this?" He questioned, referencing the sketchbook. He wanted to make sure that he had permission before he went through the various drawings.
He seemed a bit shocked by this question. "Uh, sure. Go ahead." Steve hadn't ever had someone want to look through his drawings before, so he was a bit surprised that this man wanted to look through them.
While the brunet began to go through and look at the drawings in the sketchbook, Steve decided to return to the kitchen so that he could prepare for when the water had boiled, along with cleaning up the kitchen he best he could. He grabbed two mugs out, along with two teabags. He set the bags inside the mugs before starting to clean up the kitchen a bit, throwing away pieces of trash or putting dirty dishes in the sink.
The kettle eventually started to whistle, steam coming out of the nozzle to show that the water was boiling. Steve took it off the heat, pouring the water into the mugs. He added a little bit of sugar into the stranger's, as a request by him. He added a little milk to his own, along with some sugar. He gave both teas a stir before bringing them out to the living room, handing the correct mug to the other man.
"You never told me your name," the brunet said after a moment, glancing over at him.
"You didn't either," Steve replied, blowing on the tea a bit to get it to cool down enough so that he could drink it without burning himself. "I'm Steve," he introduced himself after a minute had passed.
