Mister Rogers ⍟ || Steve Rogers

17

On the recreation deck, Steve rolled his sleeves to his elbows and grabbed two sticks off the wall. He chalked one of the cues before offering it to me. Sam jumped between us, grabbing my shoulders alarmingly.

"Don't let him rope you in. This guy acts all humble, but he's pool-hall Jesus," Sam said. There was no trace of a joke on his face.

Steve proceeded to chalk his cue with a chuckle, "I'm not that good."

I gently pushed Sam aside, taking the stick from Steve. "Fair warning: I'm a bit rusty."

Steve smiled at me boyishly. "That's alright. I'll go easy on you."

Sam snorted from the side, causing both of our heads to turn, "Lies. Just be ready to lose."

I sighed, walking over to the wall and grabbing another cue. I thrust it to Sam knowingly, "Sam, would you like to be on my team?"

"Thought you'd never ask," he scoffed, accepting the cue. My eyes met Steve's as we shared a smile over our pool-fanatic of a friend.

Steve opened with the break, sinking two balls immediately. Leaning over the table, he smirked up at me. I rolled my eyes at Sam, who gave me the "I told you so" look.

He took another easy shot, giving me stripes. He widely missed his next one, knocking a few more out of place, and I stepped up to the table.

After analyzing the arrangement, I realized that Steve had not missed his last shot; instead, he used his turn to set up the balls in an array that would block me from being able to land any of mine.

I leaned over the table, closing one eye to help me aim. I huffed disapprovingly, mumbling, "Maybe Sam was right."

Steve held his hands up innocently with a chuckle, "Lucky miss."

I realigned my cue, deciding to take a different angle. The ball ricocheted off the side of the table before cleanly sinking into a hole. Both men stared.

"What?" I laughed softly. "I said I was rusty, not awful."

"Do it again," said Sam. He straightened up from his slouch, studying me more intently.

I did. Another ball in, as if the table were doing me a favor.

Steve leaned a little closer to me, "You sure you've never hustled anyone before?"

"Positive," I replied with a coy smile, hoping he hadn't noticed the pink on my cheeks.

He watched me line up for my next shot, then stepped behind me gently. "Here," he murmured, "your hand's a little tight on the cue."

He slid his hands over mine, adjusting my fingers lightly. Warm breath brushed my bare shoulder. 

"God, you two are painful," groaned Sam. I had completely forgotten he was there.

Steve stepped back immediately, rubbing the back of his neck shyly, "I- I was just showing her-"

"Sure you were."

I missed my next shot. Mostly because I was still distracted from my interaction with Steve. I gestured for Sam to switch in for me, who stepped in eagerly, rolling his shoulders as if warming up.

Steve missed his next one on purpose, offering Sam a chance to catch up.

"Watch and learn," breathed Sam before snapping the cue forward. Two balls sank in a clean double-shot. He straightened up slowly, turning to Steve and me with a smug grin, "Ladies and gentlemen, greatness."

He lined up again, "And now, Steve, prepare to lose."

Sam hit the cue ball, crisp and confident. Immediately, he turned his back to the table as if it were already guaranteed to land.