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STEVE DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO RESPOND TO THE QUESTION

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STEVE DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO RESPOND TO THE QUESTION. He stared up at the other boy who was still waiting for an answer, fidgeting in place, not looking at him as he waited. Steve blinked for a few moments before carefully asking.

"Bucky?" he asked, inclining his head, "He's my friend."

"I thought I was your friend," Rhett said immediately, looking hurt, "But you don't play with us or anything."

The smaller boy raised his hands helplessly. "I'm too sick. And no one wants me to play."

"I do!" Rhett cried, throwing up his arms, almost upset at the small boy, backing off immediately when he saw his reaction, a mix between fear and hardened determination, like he was ready to defend himself if he had to.

"Bucky is my friend and you are too," Steve said after a fair amount of time, "But all you do is play baseball, Bucky doesn't always."

Rhett mulled over that for a few moments. "So if I stopped playing baseball you'd play with me?"

Steve opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to respond. "You-you'd stop playing baseball to play with me?"

"Well, I like you more."

º º º

The landline never rang.

Rhett woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. He had heard it ringing briefly, which had woken him up, but he had fallen back to sleep, assuming that it was a telemarketer. But by that point it was an almost consistent ring, and he was getting upset.

It was the weekend and he had plans on meeting up with Steve again—the two had gone on walks in Central Park every day that past week, avoiding the coffee shop at all costs—so waking up too early was upsetting to say the least.

He practically tore his door off his hinges as he went to the kitchen to answer the phone and probably scream at the person on the other end. When he did, he found Nicky leaving his room as well, bags under his eyes and a scowl etched into his features.

"You didn't sleep?" Rhett asked immediately, recognizing the particular look well.

"It's been a long week," Nicky spat, stalking towards the phone and answering it, practically shoving it against his ear, "Who the actual hell do you think you are?"

There was a pause.

Rhett walked over slowly as Nicky's expression morphed from anger to pure terror. He held out his arms placatingly, placing them lightly on the other man's arms, holding onto him as the younger man began to panic, his breathing growing more short.

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