Kyle could have kicked himself after turning Steve down for coffee after the group meeting. Of course he wanted to go. Steve was attractive and clearly interested in him enough to want to be around him. Even if he'd been a little standoffish at first.
A little standoffish?
He smiled at his understatement, knowing full and well that he had been far more than standoffish. But, to be truthful, it was that very reason that stopped him from accepting Steve's offer for coffee. He was shocked by the display of emotions he was showing around Steve. After keeping things contained for so long, there were cracks showing in his armor. He cried, was angry. It was uncomfortable for him to be so open after a long time of keeping everything in.
And now you want Captain America's dick.
He couldn't deny that he was attracted to Steve. The idea of this set him on edge for a number of reasons. Aside from the obvious fear of attachment and the concern about permitting any sign of vulnerability, he felt there was no way someone like Captain America would find him attractive.
"He's literally a perfect specimen and I'm reading into things," he said as he reflected on the way Steve had spoken to him after group. The intimate sort of tone his voice had taken when he asked for a rain check had undoubtedly made Kyle's body work in overdrive.
"He's not into you," Kyle sighed. "He just wants to help you. That's what he does. He helps everyone. You aren't special. And if you keep following this train of thought you're just going to end up disappointed."
Stop trying to read the future.
He smiled as these words crossed his mind.
"What's your mutant power, Kyle?" Professor Xavier asked one day during one of their power lessons.
Kyle scowled in confusion. "Telekinesis," he said. It was more of a question than a statement.
Xavier grinned at him. "Your mutant power isn't reading the future then?"
"I mean, no."
"Then you've got to stop trying to read the future, Kyle. You're going to exhaust and overwhelm yourself thinking of all the endless possibilities. All of the what if's."
Kyle smiled in spite of himself at the memory. As much as he resented Xavier for the uninvolved approach to Thanos, he certainly couldn't deny the paternal role he had filled.
And he keeps advising me beyond the grave.
He came to a halt just in front of his dorm building and let out a deep sigh. "I really hope I don't regret this decision," he muttered before turning back around.
Steve sat at a table with some of the others and stared absently at the surface of his coffee. The others had been deep in conversation, laughing and cutting up with one another. Ordinarily he would be taking part in this. He enjoyed the camaraderie of the group, especially in their more lighthearted post-therapy gatherings. But tonight he couldn't find it within him.
Couldn't possibly have anything to do with Mr. Green Eyes.
He tried to listen to someone's story about their new dog but kept drifting into his thoughts, all of which were centered around Kyle. He was a mystery and a challenge. He didn't share much and was afraid to be vulnerable to the point of anger. It reminded Steve a little of when Bucky was under Hydra's control.
I'm not sure which is worse- Hydra or grief.
Thinking about Bucky immediately brought about a wave of guilt. Bucky was gone. He knew this. He also knew that Bucky wouldn't want him to spend the rest of his life remaining devoted to him rather than live for himself. Further, he knew that Bucky would likely point out to him that he found himself attracted to a person he also felt compelled to rescue.
"You're quiet tonight," Dorothy observed. "Something on your mind?"
Steve smiled and shook his head. "I'm okay, Dorothy. I promise."
Dorothy gave him a skeptical look. "You've got that thousand yard stare." She looked at her coffee and smiled. "Couldn't have anything to do with that cute new boy that joined our group tonight, could it?"
Steve blushed and looked over at her. "It might be."
Dorothy laid a hand on his arm. "And that makes you feel conflicted."
"Bingo," Steve sighed. "You hit the nail on the head."
"I usually do," Dorothy replied with a satisfied grin before turning serious. "You know. When cancer was taking Henry from me, he made me promise him I wouldn't deny myself a chance to be happy because of him. He had this fear that I'd close myself off on his account. And he refused to die taking me with him. He told me to live."
"He was a good man," Steve said. Dorothy had spoken about Henry many times in group. Enough that everyone almost felt like they'd known him personally.
"He'd say the same about you if he'd gotten to meet and know you," Dorothy said. "Now- what would Bucky say about this?"
Steve's smile broadened. "Are you a psychic?"
"No. Just a very perceptive old gal."
"I think," Steve started to say. "I know...that Bucky would want me to be happy."
Dorothy nodded her head. "Then I guess you should honor him by doing just that. Shouldn't you?"
"Yes, ma'am," Steve agreed. He looked over at the window and watched the foot traffic. It had started to rain and people were scurrying about, frantically avoiding the sudden torrential downpour.
"That came out of nowhere," someone remarked.
No one had an umbrella, so it was decided that they would wait out the storm. Steve took the coziness of the situation in and lifted his cup to finish off his coffee. At the same time, he looked back at the window and felt his heart leap at what he saw.
Kyle was standing outside. Unprotected from the rain, he stood in front of the window and peered into the cafe. Even through the hazy, watercolor effects Steve could see the conflict on his face. He was momentarily frozen, completely transfixed by Kyle. He looked lost, afraid, and sad. Suddenly, having made up his mind about the internal struggle he was experiencing, Kyle turned to walk away.
Steve was out of his chair and moving toward the door before even thinking about it. The sound of the tinkling bell above the door was immediately swallowed up in the violent sound of the rain. Steve spied Kyle moving hurriedly down the sidewalk and took off after him.
You're an idiot, Kyle told himself as he trudged along in the rain. The second he'd made it to the cafe, he'd immediately begun to question himself and what he was doing. Fear won despite his attempts to shove it aside and he turned around and fled.
Rain smacked into him, completely soaking him. His shoes were full of rainwater and he ignored the annoying sensation. He'd be back in his dorm soon. He'd take a hot shower and get into dry clothes and all would be well. He'd go back to consuming himself with his studies and he'd never go back to group or give Steve another thought. He'd be safe.
Safe. And alone.
Alone. That word seemed to illicit a sense of comfort. It brought to mind images of a very warm and protective environment where nothing could hurt him and no one could ever be taken from him.
That's because there is no one, he bitterly thought.
He came to a stop just before an alley and seriously considered turning around again. His head was a mess and he hated his indecisiveness, his confusion. He wanted the stability of knowing what he wanted to do. He used to have that. But now his very firm ground was broken.
A pair of hands seized him from the side and yanked him off of the sidewalk and into the alley before he could produce another thought. A fist connected with his cheek and he was thrown backward and into a brick wall. His head was spinning from the surprise attack and he watched as a handful of men surrounded him.
"Your wallet- give it to me!" A man with a switchblade demanded as he waved it in Kyle's face.
Oh, you're gonna get it, Kyle thought as the pain from the blow and the danger of the scenario sank in. Telekinetic energy surged within him. It was comforting that even after not using his power for so long it still could be called to him like an old friend. Kyle looked up into the man's eyes and narrowed his own. "Don't try me," he spoke in a low, menacing voice.
"I won't ask again!" The man with the knife shouted as he moved closer.
Good. I was really hoping you'd say that, Kyle thought; he was eager to get some anger out. He lifted his hands, ready to shatter the man's nose when suddenly movement nearby signaled the arrival of another person. A reached out hand slapped over the knife man's wrist.
"Ouch!" The man cried out as his wrist was squeezed. The knife fell from his grip as all eyes moved to the new arrival.
Steve Rogers was standing there, his grip tightening on the man to the point that he was hunching over in pain, his free hand reaching for Steve's in a feeble attempt to pry his fingers off. Kyle could hear bones cracking. He stared at Steve, his eyes wide, and watched as the super soldier turned and threw the man against a nearby wall. He hit it with a painful smack and fell to the ground with an agonized cry.
The other men- Kyle counted five- immediately swarmed Steve in an attempt to overwhelm him with their numbers. Kyle briefly thought to join in but quickly saw that Steve could handle himself.
Besides, mutants are supposed to be a secret.
The men made an effort to tackle Steve but he barely budged under their force. Instead, he pivoted his body and took the closest two men by their necks and violently crashed them together before throwing each of them aside. The cracking of their skulls made Kyle wince, but it was nothing compared to what came next.
The third man moved around behind Steve and held onto his back while another tried to punch him with a set of brass knuckles. Steve spun with such force that the man attempting to restrain him cried out in surprise. The attacker's fist collided with the man on Steve's back. Steve shrugged the man off and he fell to the pavement with a pained groan.
"What the fuck are you?" The brass knuckle man roared.
He approached and attempted to strike Steve's face but came up short. Steve lifted a hand, catching the brass knuckles in it with a loud slapping sound. He stared at the man as he kept his fist restrained and gave a brief little smile."Someone who doesn't care for bullies," he said in a level voice. Then he shoved his hand forward, causing the back of the man's fist to connect with his face, throwing him several feet backward.
The last man standing stood there and watched as Steve turned and looked at him. He hesitated, his fear of the situation on clear display.
"Well?" Steve asked in a bored voice.
The man slowly shook his head and turned to run, leaving his wounded friends behind.
Kyle tracked the fleeing man as the others slowly began to rise and follow his example. He then looked at Steve and let out a deep sigh. The super soldier was standing beneath the heavy rain as it soaked his clothes- a tight white t-shirt and blue jeans. The shirt was plastered to his body, revealing each and every curve of hard muscle. Kyle stared at his pecs, noticing the nipples beneath the ineffective shirt. He followed the slope of his chest to his abs, which were expanding and contracting with each steady breath. He admired the way Steve's body created a triangular shape, the powerful and broad shoulders that tapered down to his waist. He stared longingly at his arms- so thick and defined- and longed to be in them.
You probably look like a dumbass right now, he thought.
Steve turned to Kyle and approached him. He put his hands on his shoulders and leaned in close enough that Kyle could see the heavy concern in his blue eyes. His expression in general was very worried as he searched Kyle's face. "Did they hurt you?" He demanded. He then spied the place on Kyle's cheek and his expression turned a little angrier. It made Kyle shiver.
"I'm...I'm fine," Kyle muttered, looking down to avoid Steve's gaze. "It's nothing."
"You're bleeding," Steve said.
"I am?" Kyle asked in surprise. Of course you wouldn't notice that. Captain America is soaking wet and touching you. What else is there to focus on?
Steve's expression softened into a little grin. "Yeah, tough guy. You are. But you're safe now."
Kyle looked into Steve's eyes and felt himself zoning out on everything around him. He didn't feel or hear the relentless rain or the pain from the attack. He simply stared up into Steve's concerned face, felt the solidness of his hands on his arms, and replayed his words in his head.
Did they hurt you? You're bleeding...yeah, tough guy. You are. But you're safe now.
Tears began to sting Kyle's eyes and at first he didn't have the presence of mind to understand why. But he knew. He had spent so long protecting himself from attachment, remaining invulnerable. But the dam had started to crack, with emotion slowly trickling out of its prison. And it felt good. As his tears began to stream down his face, he suddenly became aware of the cries that were escaping his mouth. Steve pulled him in for a hug and held onto him tightly. Everything else around them faded and there was only this embrace.
Steve tossed Kyle's wet clothes in the drier, then ventured into the kitchen to boil water for tea. As he gathered everything together, Natasha walked into the room.
"You're back late," she observed.
"I kind of got into a fight," Steve explained. He set mugs on a tray and made sure the sugar bowl was full.
Natasha raised her eyebrows and hopped onto the counter. "Tell me about it?"
"It was a mugging. An attempted mugging."
"Captain America to the rescue," Natasha said. She then ran a finger along the edge of the tray. "Can't help but notice that you're preparing tea for two. Is this one mine, or...?"
Steve smiled over at Natasha and shook his head. "It's for someone from group."
"Is the same someone who's wet clothes are currently in the drier?" Natasha asked with a gleam in her eyes.
"Yes."
The tea kettle began to whistle and Steve removed it from the heat and started to pour.
"Well, I won't stay in your hair," Natasha said. She hopped down and gave his shoulder a little squeeze before walking out. When she got to the doorway she turned around. "Hey, Rogers?"
"Yeah?"
"Good for you."
Kyle was trying to maintain some composure but found it difficult considering he was currently sitting in Captain America's living room. Wearing his clothes, he thought as he looked down at the t-shirt that swallowed him up. He wore some of Steve's athletic shorts with the drawstring pulled tight to ensure they wouldn't fall off.
After coming back to the compound at Steve's insistence, Steve had taken him up to his room and instructed him to take off his wet clothes and have a hot shower.
"It's fine, really," Kyle protested as he stood in Steve's bathroom.
"You're soaked and freezing," Steve countered. "Take a hot shower and get into these," he pressed while he set the shirt and shorts on the counter. "I'll put your clothes in the drier and get something hot for you to drink. Are you hungry?"
Kyle shook his head despite feeling pretty ravenous. Then his stomach rumbled and his eyes widened self-consciously.
"Yeah, I think I'll go with your stomach's answer to that one," Steve laughed. "Look. I'm going to step out to give you some privacy. Just pass the clothes to me through the door."
Kyle had complied, then stepped into Steve's large shower. As he washed up and enjoyed the warmth, he couldn't help but think about the fact that this was Steve's shower. He gets naked in here, he thought. He began to feel aroused at the idea and had to immediately shut the train of though down. He focused on studying the bathroom through the shower stall. He took in the sense of order, which didn't really surprise him given Steve's military background.
After he'd cleaned up and gotten dressed, he walked out to find that Steve's rooms were empty. He sat down on the sofa and tried to relax. He felt extremely vulnerable in that moment. He was out of his element and at the mercy of the situation. It was uncomfortable and yet he didn't want to leave.
The door opened up and Steve entered with a tray in his hands. "I brewed some tea and heated up some soup. Vegetable okay?"
Kyle nodded and watched as Steve set everything down. "This was all really nice of you," he murmured. "You really didn't have to..."
"I wanted to," Steve interrupted. He smiled down at Kyle and handed him his tea. "I like saving people, remember? It's kind of my thing."
Kyle accepted the mug with a shy smile. "I really am sorry for that. Yelling at you."
Steve shook his head and sat on the sofa with him. "It's okay. Being angry is okay. I think we're all allowed to feel like that these days."
"I haven't really let myself feel much of anything, to be honest," Kyle said before taking a grateful sip of tea.
"You want to talk about it?" Steve offered.
Kyle set the mug down and contemplated for a moment. Steve remained silent, his body language and presence nonthreatening. It was as if he was communicating to Kyle a message of no pressure. It was a comfort for him knowing the ball was in his court. He could share or not. He could share as much or as little as he wanted.
"When the blip happened everyone around me turned to dust," Kyle finally said in a voice so low Steve had to scoot closer to hear him. Kyle paused and appreciated Steve simply sitting and listening. "I was...I was at school. I went to a private school. For...uh...the gifted and talented. It was the only home I knew." Kyle looked up at Steve as if he was seeking confirmation of permission to keep talking. Seeing the openness on Steve's eyes goaded him. "I was homeless when I was a teenager. My parents were...well, I didn't know my dad. He left before I was born. I don't know who he is. Or was. And mom was...mom was...preoccupied. Drugs. So I ran away."
Steve frowned at what Kyle was telling him about his past.
"Sorry, that's a lot to share," Kyle abruptly said.
"No," Steve quickly said. He could see the spell being broken and Kyle retreating back into himself. He didn't want that. Not at all. "I was frowning because of what happened to you; not because of what you were saying."
Kyle nodded but didn't say anything else.
"I want to hear you," Steve continued. "As long as you want to be heard, I want to hear you."
Kyle took another drink of tea and stared into it as if he was trying to find courage there. "I was taken in by the school and lived there ever since. Got to know the others. Kind of...found a family. So when the blip happened I lost pretty much everyone. Only a few a of my friends are left. I...I couldn't keep looking at the rooms. The empty rooms. I couldn't do it."
Steve looked at him with sad understanding. "I almost moved out of the compound after everything. Seeing how many of us weren't here anymore. It was hard."
"I could have stayed with the people who were left. But it was just too hard. So I ran away." He shook his head in self loathing. "Like a coward."
"You're not a coward," Steve said in a comforting voice. "You were hurt. And confused by what happened. You reacted the best way you knew how."
"Yeah, by closing myself off from everyone. Not exactly a healthy way to cope, is it?"
Steve pursed his lips. "No. But I understand why now. Our experiences shape us. For better and for worse." When Kyle didn't show signs of discomfort, Steve went on. "Your upbringing taught you that you couldn't rely on people. So you learned early that you had to take care of yourself. Which isn't a bad lesson. Then you found stability at school with your chosen family and you let yourself relax. But then it was taken from you."
"And I felt like I had to shut down to make sure it never happened again," Kyle whispered.
Steve remained quiet alongside him and let the situation breathe. They ate soup and drank tea in the comfortable silence that settled in. As they did so, Kyle reflected on how Steve had approached the conversation. He felt grateful for Steve's gentleness, for the way he let Kyle be in charge. Moreover, he felt comfortable with how perceptive Steve was about him. It felt good to have someone else fill in the blanks alongside him when words failed him.
Steve took furtive glances at Kyle as they ate, admiring his features as he attempted to gather enough courage to speak his mind. But every time he started to, it felt wrong. It felt like it wasn't the right time.
Plenty of time, he told himself as he gathered up the dishes after they'd both finished eating.
"I can help," Kyle offered.
"You're my guest," Steve gently enforced. "And you've just been through a lot. Opening up the way you did. I know it wasn't easy for you. Just relax and I'll take care of all of this. I'll get your clothes while I'm downstairs too."
Kyle relented and watched Steve as he resumed the task of clearing up. Once he'd left the room, Kyle lay back on the sofa, his eyes growing heavier by the second. He felt the sensations of warmth and safety as well as the comfort of feeling understood and sleep crept up on him.
When Steve returned with Kyle's clothes, he found the younger man had fallen deep asleep on the sofa. He smiled at the scene and set the clothes down on the table. He knew Kyle intended to go back to his dorm, but Steve hated to wake him. He'd been through a lot and it was clear he was exhausted. Instead, he gently scooped him up in his arms and carried him into the adjacent bedroom. Holding Kyle in one arm, he pulled back the neatly made covers and lowered him onto the bed. After tucking him in, Steve watched him sleep for a few moments and contemplated what it must be like to share a bed with him, to hold him close. Then he retreated to the living room and made a bed for himself on the sofa. He closed his eyes, thought about the little victory with Kyle, and fell asleep with a smile.