So, apparently, Chris Evans just wrapped filming A4 and I'm trying not to throw up because if ya'll know me, you know that his portrayal of Steve was really crucial in keeping me alive, so here's a really happy one-shot that I had forgotten about, because I just wanted to do something fun.

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RHETT LIKED HIS BOYFRIEND. It seemed like an obvious statement, but he had met his fair share of people who weren't too pleased with their significant others, or even wholly unhappy, and he could only vaguely understand why they all stayed instead of just parting ways. But luckily for him, he had been gifted by the universe with the best boyfriend in the world—in his completely unbiased opinion—and he really, really liked him.

So he liked to stare. No one could blame him; not Nicky or Diana, not the random people on the street, blissfully unaware of the true identity of the beefcake with the tight jeans, and certainly not the universe who was clearly still trying to make up for all that it had done to him in the years that he had been alive.

He stared a lot.

"You're staring," Steve hummed, not looking up from where he was reading, his feet propped up on the coffee table and a book held up in one hand, the other resting against his temple, his elbow propped against the armrest of the couch.

Rhett was sure he was drooling, but he wasn't about to apologize for it. This was his boyfriend and if he wanted to drown in his own drool staring at him, he had every right to.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Steve asked, tilting his head and pouting his lips as he continued to read, and Rhett knew he was mocking him, but he was practically desensitized to it at this point.

Rhett groaned, surging forward and practically tackling his boyfriend, Steve simply wrapping an arm around his waist as he moved to straddle his hips, burying his face in the crook of his neck, his groan bordering on a whine.

"I look at you, and my heart hurts," he cried, trying to melt into Steve's skin with how fierce he was holding him.

Steve didn't even blink. "That's called cardiac arrest."

"Why do I love you, you're so mean to me," Rhett demanded, pulling away and pouting down at him, and Steve sighed, setting his book aside and wrapping his other arm around him, finally looking him in the eye.

"You're spending too much time with children, you're starting to act like one," Steve pointed out, and Rhett scowled down at him, deepening it when he saw Steve's lips twitch tauntingly.

Then he smirked, inwardly demanding that he gain leverage, reaching up to grab at Steve's hair, the other hand coming to cradle his neck. He pulled him into a positively filthy kiss, reveling in the way Steve's hold tightened around him, the larger man shifting underneath him, surging forward, trying desperately to gain the power Rhett so clearly held over him.

"Could a child do that?" Rhett demanded, hating how out of breath he was as he pressed his forehead against Steve's, the younger blond moving to kiss at his neck.

"Do not talk about children right now," Steve growled, showing just how strong he was by moving Rhett onto his back, towering over him without skipping a beat, attacking his neck.

Rhett dug his heels into Steve's back, running his hands through his hair, holding him close, glancing to the small drawer in their coffee table, vaguely wondering if he should be the one to reach for it or if he should wait for Steve.

But, of course, the universe wasn't going to be so kind as to give him everything.

"I swear to God, you guys, you have a room for a reason!"

Rhett felt a swell of pride and horror when Steve didn't jump away from him, only raising himself up and looking in Nicky's direction, having the decency to look abashed, but not enough to unhook the older blond's legs from where they were wrapped around him.

"I get that he's hot, but damn it, I don't want to come out of my room, into the loft that I share with you, to see the peak of human physique in his birthday suit. I already hear so much about that ass from the teens, I don't need to see it for myself," Nicky said, crossing his arms and frowning at the both of them, mimicking the disappointed pose and expression that Steve bore when he was in "Captain mode."

Rhett smirked as he reached over to squeeze the peak of human physique's ass, Steve frowning loudly down at him when he did, and Rhett just smiled at him as he continued to knead it, Nicky shouting at him to pay more rent if he was just going to keep doing this.

"Sorry, sorry," he said to his roommate, not sounding sorry at all, and Nicky grumbled about making a device to track heat signatures to make sure where the two had and hadn't had sex.

"You do have a great ass, though," Rhett mumbled, now just resting his hands over Steve's thin sweatpants, then letting his hands roam up to run over his abs, coming to rest over his large chest, "And everything else."

Rhett loved Steve for Steve, he did. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't run into multiple walls and nearly brained himself on numerous occasions because Steve decided to wear the thin sweatpants that Rhett had purposefully bought for the purpose of ogling or when the younger blond decided to bend over to pick something up or to do his elaborate stretches post gym workout.

Science made that ass, and science did not slack.

Speaking of gym workouts, that in itself was difficult, and not just because Rhett couldn't run on the treadmill for more than twenty minutes. 

Watching Steve exercise was the best and worst thing to have ever happened to him. Best, because he could watch him get sweaty in his too tight sports shirts and thin sweatpants, doing anything and everything there.

Worst, because anything and everything there wanted to do him.

He glared at the group of people who were whispering, mouthing words at each other as they watched Steve work out, staring at parts of him that only Rhett was allowed to see, and he felt a flare of jealousy rise in his chest and he set his jaw, trying to get them to look at him, to realize that the man they were staring at was more than just the piece of ass they were checking out.

They didn't know what Steve had gone through, what he dealt with nightly, what he liked to eat for breakfast and what music he liked to listen to.

He was starting to scare himself.

He frowned, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to Steve who was now looking at him, slowing down on the treadmill, falling into a walk as he looked towards him worriedly, the man knowing better than to just jump off, but wanting nothing more than to.

Rhett rose to his feet, sheepishly making his way over, resting his hands on the handle bars, not looking at Steve as he waited for the man to speak to him, though Steve only reached out, resting a finger under his chin, forcing him to look up.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, reaching out to smooth out his furrowed brow, "Did I do something?"

"No," Rhett said, his cheeks growing warm, his words heavy, "I just—I got jealous, all these people staring at you."

"Oh," Steve said, his eyes widening, "We can go, I didn't realize that you were self-conscious, Rhett, why didn't you tell me soon—"

"That is not what I meant," he said, covering Steve's mouth with his hand, and he really needed help because he couldn't help but sigh happily at the feeling of his soft lips against his hand.

Steve frowned at first, only for his eyes to widen in understanding, and Rhett looked away, not wanting to see his look of anger, of disgust, horrified at how possessive he was, how obsessive, how he wasn't what thought he was.

Then he saw Steve's body begin to shake. 

He looked up and found Steve grinning down at him, and his jaw dropped, a flare of hurt rising in his chest. "Wow, I didn't realize this was funny to you, I know it's stupid, but you don't have to laugh."

"Rhett," Steve sighed, rolling his eyes fondly as he leaned against the handle, turning the treadmill off, "I'm not mad. I'm your boyfriend, I'd be concerned if you didn't care about me enough to want me to only be with you."

Rhett shrugged, glancing away. "But it's weird, you know, it's not like you would do anything. You wouldn't, right?"

Steve only rolled his eyes, hopping off the treadmill and taking a step forward, crowding into Rhett's personal space, pulling him into a deep, languid kiss, wrapping his arms around his hips, resting a hand on his ass, patting him as he pulled away, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"I can't believe my boyfriend's so clueless."

Rhett stared as he walked away, his cheeks flushed and pupils blown wide as he watched Steve walk off, his eyes trained on the back of his sweatpants, his breathing labored as he struggled to get control of his body, choking when Steve crouched down, getting started on the ropes.

Steve loved to make his life as difficult as possible. And he loved every second of it.

He loved it when Steve placed his too cold hands under his shirt to scare him with the weak reasoning that he was cold, Rhett, and you're so warm. He loved it when he went on too long rants at the TV when he saw people talking badly about Tony, or saying that America was perfect just the way it was. He loved it when he picked him up and sat him on his lap when they were watching something, arms wrapped around him, keeping him safe.

That was just the thing. He didn't only like Steve, he loved him. 

He loved him so much that it scared him, scared him so much because he knew that if he ever lost him, he'd never be okay again. Knew that if Steve decided that he wanted to separate, he'd accept his decision, even though it would tear him apart. Knew that he would take a bullet for him without hesitation because he loved this man more than he loved himself, and it scared him.

It scared him so much that he just loved him even more as a way to make up for it.

Unbeknownst to him, Steve loved him just as much. Loved the way he had snacks with him all the time. Loved how his entire body brightened when he heard or saw something that made him happy. Loved how he pushed his glasses up onto the top of his head when he went to rub his eyes, his yawns so wide that it took up all of his face.

He loved him so much, it hurt him to know that he deserved love better than his own. So Steve loved him even more, to try and give up the bare minimum that he deserved.

Rhett stared at Steve as he slept, the harsh glow of the lights outside, casting shadows over his face, and he raised his finger up to trace them, to memorize every inch of his face because on nights when things got scary, when things got hard, he was always afraid that he would lose him again, lose everyone, forget all they had been through, like he had forgotten so much already.

He needed to remember him here and now, because he didn't know how long here and now would be.

Steve shifted awake, and Rhett froze, his heart stopping when he realized he had woken him up, afraid of what Steve would say when he realized what he was doing, how he was staring, how creepy and possessive and obsessive and disgusting he was being.

Steve only smiled and kissed his hand.

"What's going on?" he asked, reaching out to stroke Rhett's cheek, and the man nearly sobbed at the touch, causing Steve to frown, "Rhett?"

"God, I'm sorry," Rhett sniffed, hiding his face, "I just—I love you."

Steve laughed slightly in question, turning him back to face him. "I love you too. Is-is this a bad thing?"

"I don't know, is it?" Rhett asked, turning back to him, laughing almost hysterically, "Because I don't think you get how much I love you, Steve. It scares me. And I don't just love you, I like you. I love and like you a lot, so much that it scares me because if you pointed a gun at me and told me that I had to die so you'd stay alive, I'd pull the trigger myself."

Steve stared at him in shock, watching as Rhett started to cry, curling in on himself. "God, you hate me."

"No," Steve cried, his voice soft as he pulled Rhett into his lap, wrapping his arms around him, "I could never hate you. Rhett, Jesus, I love you just as much, don't ever think that I'd hate you for loving me."

"But it's weird, I stare at you and I just want to be by you all the time, and I get jealous when I see other people staring at you because I know you deserve better, and I just want to remember every part of you for the rest of my life, 'cause I'd rather die than lose you, but if you wanted to leave me, I'd let you go, but I'd die."

Steve nosed at Rhett's temple as the other blond cried, gripping his arm like it was the only thing keeping him alive, which wasn't a far stretch.

"If it scares you so much, just love me more. So you know that I'll always be with you," he whispered, and Rhett sobbed, resting his entire body against him.

"And here I was, thinking you only liked my ass," Steve teased, because he knew better than to get Rhett going so late at night, and the other blond laughed.

"No, I love that too," he laughed, and Steve pressed a kiss to his cheek, fighting against the laugh bubbling to the surface, "I love every part of you."

He shifted so he was straddling him, cupping his face in his hands. "I love your eyes," he said, pressing feather light kisses to Steve's eyelids which fluttered closed, the younger man laughing, "I love your nose," he pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, "I love every part of you."

Steve raised an challenging eyebrow. "You gonna show me some of that love, or you just gonna keep it to yourself?"

Rhett laughed, dropping his head onto his collarbone, pressing feather light kisses there, wondering how he wound up in this position, then deciding that he didn't care so much.

He loved to love Steve, and if that was wrong, well, he didn't want to be right.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This was supposed to be just fun fluff, but then I had to make him cry. God damn it, Tisha. Whatever, I really loved this a lot, like it made me happy, and my favorite line is, hands down, "science made that ass and science did not slack."

I love writing Rhett and Steve so much, it's not even funny at this point, it's kind of ridiculous, actually.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!