CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THIRD WHEEL

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     "I really am sorry, and I promise I'll make it up to you—"

"Riley," Nathan said, cutting off Riley's apologies for the sixth time that morning, a laugh on the tip of his tongue. Riley, while balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder, jerked open the door leading to a stairwell, the apartment building he had just entered so nice that there was a doorman outside. He recognized Riley by that point and let him through with a polite nod. Now, Riley started climbing the stairs to the fifth floor, a bag of breakfast sandwiches hanging from his wrist as he held a cupholder in his left hand, two cups of coffee waiting. Riley reached to properly hold his cellphone as he climbed the stairs. "It told you, it's fine. I know your job is demanding."

"I cancel on you so much, though," Riley pointed out, guilt forming in his chest, disturbing his stomach. He was frowning, his mind restless. He had planned on finishing the movie from the previous night with Nathan that morning, but he had completely forgotten he had promised to run with Steve, which he was already late for. "I'm a terrible boyfriend."

"You're a cute boyfriend, that's what you are," Nathan said, laughing again. He was so unbothered by being cancelled on again that it made Riley frown even harder. How many more chances was Nathan going to give him? Riley would have broken up with himself by now. Shaking his head, he reached the fifth floor in record time and started to balance his phone between his cheek and shoulder again, but paused when the door pushed open before he could. A blonde woman was there, wearing scrubs and holding a laundry hamper. They froze when they saw each other.

"I'll make it up to you," Riley said quickly, "I promise. I have to go, but I'll call you tonight, okay?" He waited only long enough for Nathan to say okay, and then he was hanging up and raising his eyebrows at the woman. A woman he recognized; a woman he had worked with a few times. A woman he knew very well wasn't a nurse. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say Steve doesn't know who you really are?" Sharon Carter cast a quick look over her shoulder, then ducked into the stairwell and let the door fall shut behind her. Riley pocketed his phone and waited.

"You can't tell him," Sharon started, only to stop and stare when Riley rolled his eyes. Her eyes narrowed. "Hey, watch it, agent. I outrank you." Riley showed her he meant no harm by raising his free hand, palm forward. She shook her head. "I was stationed here for his protection. By Fury. I was supposed to avoid you at all costs to prevent this exact situation, but Fury said if you did see me, that I had permission to tell you. Said something about getting you off his ass before you could even think about it?"

"Well, wasn't that kind of him?" Riley asked dryly, before he frowned and looked at the door Sharon had just come out of. It was, of course, the door leading to Steve's apartment. Suddenly, he was remembering Steve idly mentioning the beautiful woman next door. He cast Sharon a judgmental look. "Please tell me you're not playing the romantic angle to get close. That's...so cruel. Especially to Steve. He's struggling with adapting enough as it is. He doesn't need his feelings played with."

"I'm not playing with his—" Sharon cut herself off, pressing her lips together. She glanced away from him, straightened her spine and brought back her shoulders, then shot him a stern look. "I'm following orders. You follow yours. That'll be all, Agent Cho." With that, Sharon turned away and started down the stairs. Riley watched her go.

"Good to see you, too," he muttered. Raising his voice, he called after her, "And you could've at least held the door open for me!" Her responding snort was much less professional than she had made herself out to be, and it made Riley feel a little better. Shaking his head, he put his phone in his pocket and jerked open the door. Steve's apartment door was a straight shot ahead, and he was there in seconds, raising his hand to knock on the door. He didn't have to wait long. Steve was swinging it open a few seconds later, wearing jogging pants, sneakers, and an athletic t-shirt. Riley grinned brightly at him and pushed the coffee into his hands as he walked inside.

"Sorry, I know I'm late, but I brought gifts," Riley threw over his shoulder. Steve juggled with the drinks as he kicked the door shut behind them, and Riley put the bag of pasties on Steve's island counter. "And I feel the need to remind you that a smoothie is not breakfast."

"Yeah, neither is coffee and fried dough," Steve said, joining him at the counter and watching as Riley pulled out two glazed doughnuts. "Do you consume anything other than caffeine and sugar?" Riley raised his eyebrows and passed him one of the doughnuts in question, then surprised Steve greatly when he pulled out breakfast sandwiches as well. Steve tilted his head. "Okay, I stand corrected."

"I don't bring coffee to just anyone, you know," Riley said as he unwrapped his sandwich, taking a large bite and chasing it back with his own iced coffee. He got Steve a simple hot black coffee, and watched as he stirred sugar and milk into it from his refrigerator. He didn't have as much of a sweet tooth as Riley did, but Riley had noticed Steve preferred cream-filled doughnuts rather than plain glazed. "You should count yourself lucky."

"Lucky, huh?" Steve asked. Riley nodded. He took a drink of his coffee, looked at the cup for a moment, then set it down and pinned Riley with a knowing look. "What do you want?" Riley blinked in surprise, staring at him for a moment. He took another bite of his sandwich just to stall for time.

"How do you know I want something?" he asked, drinking more of his coffee. Steve started unwrapping his own sandwich.

"You use coffee to bribe," Steve pointed out, pointing his sandwich at Riley's own coffee before taking his own large bite. "You're not subtle about it. What if I didn't like coffee? What would you do then?"

"I'd bring you something obnoxiously healthy, like kale smoothies," Riley joked. Steve shook his head and then continued to eat, waiting for Riley's answer in patient silence. That was the thing about Steve Rogers. He made Riley want to confide in him without even having to do anything. Riley stirred his coffee with his straw and thought over his question for a moment. "Okay, so, you're right and you're wrong. I did bring you coffee and breakfast just to be nice, but I did also want to ask you something." Steve nodded, motioning for him to continue. Steve averted his gaze, a bit embarrassed. "Well. You're technically a powered person, right?" Steve's movements slowed.

"I'm classified as a superhuman because of the serum, but I'm not powered. Just enhanced," Steve corrected slowly, clearly wondering where Riley was going to take this conversation. Riley waved his hand through the air. Steve continued despite Riley's dismissive hand gestures, adding, "Banner is more of a powered person than I am, honestly."

"Banner won't be able to help me," Riley said quickly, then bit his lip, wincing. He hadn't meant to say it like that, but it was true. Bruce Banner was so afraid of the Hulk that he barely kept the other guy at bay. Besides, the Hulk was like a separate entity inside of Bruce entirely, coming out and taking over when Bruce let himself lose control. It wasn't the same as Steve, who had required training before and after the serum to control his new abilities. His abilities were pretty mundane to compared to Riley's own, but still, it was more relatable than the Hulk's uncontrollable rampages.

"Help you with what, exactly?" Steve asked. "What are you trying to ask me?" Riley sighed long and loud, then brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck. He had never asked this of anyone before, and he found the words hard to find now. He grimaced.

"You know I was born with...powers," Riley said slowly, the thought word powers was still difficult to get out. He saw Steve nod out of the corner of his eye and kept going, keeping his eyes glued to the window nearby. There wasn't much of a view, just the top of the next building. He hoped Steve kept his blinds closed most of the time, especially at night. It would be so easy to watch him from the neighboring roof. "And you know I don't really use them, aside from the odd moment where I need to make myself invisible—which is exhausting to do, by the way. I can't do it long." He set his iced coffee down, nearly gone now, and looked at his hand, twisting it around as if he could see where the beams of sunlight came from. "But ever since New York, when I saved Miles, I've been thinking that...well, it'd be nice to know how to properly use my powers, right? Even as a kid, I didn't really know how to control them, it just came out of me when I was afraid. I don't want to be afraid of them anymore."

"You shouldn't be," Steve said quietly. He had finished both his sandwich and his doughnut, much to Riley's surprise. It made him smile. "Your powers are part of you. You should be proud of them, not afraid." Riley's smile widened.

"And that's why I came to you about this," Riley admitted. "You can't relate to it, but you still get it. Which is why I wanted to know if you would help me?" Steve seemed shocked by that. Even after Riley's speech, he still hadn't quite pieced together what Riley wanted from him. "I know you don't have powers, but you are pretty much the most durable person I know. You're also very patient, and nice, and—I don't know. You're not likely to use tough love on me to get me to master something I'm trying to do, and I think that's the right call to go here. I need someone kind to help me train with my powers." His voice lowered into a whisper, his mind suddenly very far away as he added, "They weren't kind at all."

"I read up on you, back when Fury recruited all of us for the Avengers," Steve said slowly, and then sound of his voice jerked Riley out of his thoughts, out of memories creeping up to haunt him. He blinked multiple times, then glanced up from his hand, realizing he'd been staring at it without blinking for far too long. "I wanted to know who I was working with, and you especially made me nervous. Made me side-eye S.H.I.E.L.D., because you were—are—still so young. I wanted to know why they recruited someone so young, especially when I realized you've been an agent since you were eighteen." Riley took in a deep breath at the same time Steve did. Riley hadn't realized Steve had read up on him, though perhaps he should have. They were on the same two teams. "I can't imagine what those people did to you, or made you do, and I don't want to. It said in your file that your powers were why you were taken by them in the first place, so I think you wanting to use them now is a very strong and brave thing to do."

"I wouldn't call it brave," Riley argued immediately, slightly embarrassed. "I would call it responsible."

"You're reclaiming a power someone else claimed as their own to hurt people," Steve said immediately. "You're reclaiming it as your own to use for good. To save and help people. That's brave." Riley softened, feeling something hard form in his throat. He cleared it and averted his gaze.

"You rehearse all that?" he asked, just to change the subject, make it more lighthearted. It worked, and Steve laughed.

"You know what, Cho?" Steve asked. Riley grinned at him, relieved their serious moment was over. Steve threw the trash away, then stored Riley's doughnut and half-eaten sandwich in his refrigerator for Riley to eat later. "I can't promise I'll be good at it, but yeah, I'll help you train. Ready to go on that run?"

"Thank you," Riley said, relieved, and then he jumped off the stool. "And yeah, let's go. Where are we running?"

"National Mall," Steve revealed, and Riley groaned as he followed him out the door, already knowing he'd be left in the dust.

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An hour later, Riley was collapsing in the grass, his lungs burning after a very long and steady jog around the National Mall. He'd tried to keep up with Steve at first despite knowing better, but he'd fallen behind eventually, and Steve didn't lessen his stride just because he did. Riley was left to jog along with another man on the track, and it was quite an amusing sight to see, because each time Steve passed the man, he would without fail say, "On your left." That was why Riley ended up stopping before both of them. His laughter made it much harder to breathe regularly, and his lungs were burning as a result. Deciding to tap out, Riley laid in the grass for a moment before he stood and decided to jog back to where he and Steve had left their things.

Riley had brought a small duffel with him, with a change of clothes as well as his S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, plus a rather large metal water bottle. Riley unscrewed the cap and sipped at it slowly, not wanting to upset his stomach, as he sat beneath a tree and watched Steve make yet another lap around the track, passing the man he'd been teasing all morning yet again as he did. The man seemed to decide it was time for him to tap out as well, because after yelling "Come on!" at Steve's back, he slowed to a walk and bent to catch his breath, his hands braced on his knees. Riley laughed again, and the laugh caught the man's attention. He glanced over, and to show he meant no harm, Riley raised his water bottle.

"Need some water?" he called out, shaking it slightly. They were a good bit away from each other still, but the National Mall was quiet, barely anyone on the sidewalks. Car were only just starting to pull in, people's days officially starting. The man took another moment to catch his breath, then jogged over and took the water bottle with a grateful nod, raising it above his mouth and pouring it in without making contact. The man gave it back without another drink, and Riley screwed the cap back onto the bottle.

"Thank you," the man gasped, collapsing on the grass beside him, wincing as he pressed his hand against his abdomen. The collar of his sweatshirt was soaked through with sweat. Riley had already stripped his own sweatshirt off, leaving him in nothing but a thin tank top. Riley studied him now, since he hadn't gotten a good look while running. The man had brown skin, and seemed to be in his thirties. He was handsome. The man noticed him looking and motioned toward where Steve was still running. "You're with that thing, right?"

"Yeah," Riley said, letting out a small laugh. "I'm with Thing 1. Thing 2, nice to meet ya." Riley gave him a two-fingered wave, making the man chuckle, though he winced soon after. He must have had a cramp in his side. "Sorry for laughing, it's just usually me he's teasing while we're running. It was nice seeing him target someone else for a change." The man grunted like that was the most disgusting thing he had ever heard. It made Riley laugh again. Turning toward him, he offered his hand and said, "Riley Cho."

"Sam Wilson," the man said, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. He was collapsing back against the tree a moment later, rubbing at his side. "So how do you know Captain America?" Riley raised his eyebrows, but it didn't really surprise him that Sam Wilson had realized who Steve was. It was fairly obvious considering he hadn't even paused in his run since he had started. No normal human being could possible run so long at such a speed. Riley offered Sam a shrug, and Sam eyed him curiously. He snapped his fingers weakly, pointed at him, and said, "You're that Avenger. Sunny."

"Solar," Riley corrected. "And how could you tell?"

"I couldn't. It was just a guess. Thanks for confirming it, though." Riley laughed, and it was then that Steve appeared, approaching without so much as a drop of sweat on his forehead. He wasn't even out of breath, and Riley glared at him playfully.

"I hate you so much," Riley said as a greeting. Steve grinned at him, then his eyes went to Sam.

"Need a medic?" Steve said as a hello, making both Sam and Riley laugh.

"I need a new set of lungs," Sam joked. "Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes." Riley wanted to say that was an exaggeration, but knowing Steve, it probably wasn't. Riley never bothered keeping track of how much he ran unless he was in a professional gym, but Steve—and Sam, apparently—seemed like the type to count.

"Huh," Steve said, planting his hands on his hips as he looked around the National Mall. "I guess I got a late start."

"Really?" Sam asked, laughing once again, though this time in mild disbelief. Riley glanced between the two of them, suddenly feeling very much like a third wheel. "You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap." Sam pointed at the track, glanced away briefly, then looked back at Steve with a frown. "Did you just take it? I assume you just took it."

"What unit are you in?" Steve asked, gesturing to Sam's sweatshirt.

"58th pararescue," Sam replied, tilting his head back against the tree. "But now I'm working down at the VA." Sam raised a hand toward Steve. "Sam Wilson."

"Steve Rogers," Steve introduced as he helped Sam to his feet. As soon as Sam was standing, Steve turned and helped Riley up as well, patting him twice on the shoulder. Riley waved him off and bent to receive his duffel bag. Sam and Steve were clearly bonding over both being veterans. Riley wasn't about to get in the middle of it.

"Kinda put that together," Sam admitted, stepping back to mirror Steve's posture, his hands on his hips. "Must've freaked you out coming home after the whole defrosting thing." Steve sighed.

"It takes some getting used to," he admitted. Riley pulled the duffel over his shoulder and grinned.

"You should've seen how excited he got when he understood a Wizard of Oz reference," Riley teased, laughing when Steve grimaced at him. Sam chuckled. Steven shook his head, then smiled at Sam as he started to turn to leave. Riley pulled out his phone as he turned to follow him. It was getting close to when Natasha was supposed to pick them up.

"It's good to meet you, Sam," Steve said as a goodbye. Riley murmured the same words, offering Sam a small wave.

"It's your bed, right?" Sam called after Steve, stopping both of them in their tracks. Riley glanced at him in confusion, stopping on the sidewalk by the main road.

"What's that?" Steve asked.

"Your bed, it's too soft," Sam clarified, coming closer. "When I was over there, I'd sleep on the ground, use rocks as pillows like a caveman. Now I'm home, lying in my bed, and it's like..." Sam trailed off, unable to describe the feeling.

"Lying on a marshmallow," Steve finished, nodding in understanding. "I feel like I'm gonna sink right to the floor." Sam smiled and nodded in agreement. "How long?"

"Two tours," Sam responded. He crossed his arms over his chest then and smiled. "You must miss the good old days, huh?" Riley raised an eyebrow, then glanced at Steve sharply, holding his breath and hoping to god Steve would answer that question correctly.

"Well," Steve said contemplatively, "things aren't so bad. Food's a lot better, we used to boil everything. No polio's good. Internet! So helpful. I've been reading that a lot trying to catch up." Riley knew he did. He caught Steve sometimes on his phone, scrolling through google searches as they flew to whatever mission they were needed at. He had a small notebook of things he wanted to try—foods, movies, TV shows, music, anything and everything he could find or think of. Riley had suggested Korean barbecue and The Lion King. Steve had crossed off both in one night, when Riley had ordered takeout and had shown up on Steve's doorstep with the takeout hanging from one hand and the DVD of The Lion King in the other. Steve had greatly enjoyed both.

"Marvin Gaye," Sam suggested after a moment of thought, his hand rising to gesture, showing how much he wanted Steve to listen to him. "1972. Trouble Man soundtrack. Everything you missed, jammed into one album." Steve nodded and pulled his tiny notebook out of his pocket, clicking his pen.

"I'll put it on the list," Steve said, scribbling it down. Riley's phone vibrated in his hand then, at the same time Steve's own phone alarm went off. A message in yellow text appeared, telling them both that extraction was imminent. The contact didn't have a name or picture, but Riley could tell Natasha had sent it, just because of the smiley face she had attached at the end. Riley smiled and went to stand at the curb. "Thanks for the run," Steve was saying behind him, "if that's what you wanna call running."

"Oh, that's how it is?" Sam asked.

"Oh, that's how it is," Steve joked.

"Get a room," Riley mumbled to himself, feeling more than a little left out by that point. Much to his relief, he saw Natasha's black sports car turn around the corner, coming at them at a speed that was a little concerning. She screeched to a halt right in front of him. She rolled down the window before she was even at a full stop, smiling at Riley briefly before peering around him at Sam and Steve.

"Hey, fellas," Natasha greeted apathetically, smoothing out her expression to make her seem just as bored and dry as she sounded. There was no sign of the smile she gave Riley only seconds ago. Rolling his eyes, he went to throw his duffel into her trunk as she made jokes. "Anyone know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil." Riley snorted, then pulled the passenger side door open and maneuvered the seat forward so he could slip into the back. His legs were too long to sit properly, but the tight fit would feel nothing like it would if Steve were forced to sit in the back, so Riley chose to turn sideways and drape his legs across the backseat.

"Thank god you're here," Riley muttered as Steve said she was hilarious. "They've been flirting for five minutes straight. I felt like a third wheel." Natasha glanced back at him with a secret smile as Steve climbed into the passenger seat.

"How ya doin'?" Sam greeted as soon as he saw Natasha, bending down to smile at her. Natasha smiled back, a slow curl of her lips. Riley shook his head, amused. She would eat Sam alive if she could.

"Hey," Nat greeted smoothly. Riley kicked the back of her seat, earning a smirk thrown over her shoulder as Steve climbed into the passenger seat.

"Can't run everywhere," Steve joked, earning a laugh from Sam, who was still leaning down to look through the window.

"No, you cannot," Sam agreed. Riley pushed forward to pop his head out from between the two front seats, offering Sam a smile and a wave. Sam returned both of the gestures, eyes shining, and then Natasha was pressing down on the gas pedal. The air flew out of Riley's lungs as he flew backwards, and then he was scowling, reaching behind him to rub at his back. The center of the backseat was not comfortable.

"You totally made me a third wheel back there," Riley grumbled after a few minutes, when they were nothing but silence, aside from Steve fiddling with the radio, looking for something to listen to.

"I did not," Steve argued.

"You did!"

Riley then proceeded to explain how, in detail, Steve had left Riley to be a third wheel during his conversation with Sam Wilson. Steve had nothing to say by the time they were pulling into the lot where their quinjet was waiting.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I really need to start working on this more lmao.