kid-from-brooklyn:

“You tryin’ to tell me I’d be more attractive if I aged? I’m not wine—you can’t drink me.” Steve chuckled quietly and felt the heat intensify even more so at his own comment. He hadn’t meant to come off like that, then again was his mind in the gutter for even thinking such a thought? The Captain gave a gentle shake of his head as if to force the dirty image from his mind. Eames might have been flirtatious with the blond but he couldn’t exactly call the other’s sexuality. For sometime now he’d known he ‘played for the other team’, as some guys called it. Though it wasn’t exactly something that one would proudly go boasting about.

“That’s fine,” he flashed the Brit another smile, genuine at that. “Gotta check in with the CO. He’ll probably be wondering why you’re taggin’ along anyway.” Rogers adjusted the strap of his rifle and motioned towards a tent towards the back of the allied forces camp. 

“—There, on the left. Meet me in twenty and I’ll give you the grand tour, alright?” Rogers raised his hand like he was about to slug the man again but instead gave a pat of Eames’ shoulder before leaving the other’s side. There was almost a skip in his step as he entered the camp, a whistle was soon to follow as the scrawny kid from Brooklyn bobbed and weaved through the tents. 

“Says you but I’m thinking just a bit differently,” Eames teased, amused that the colour that was currently tinting the yank’s face was getting more intense. It actually suited him – the colour and he actually wanted to see more of it. Then again, he was thinking he’d like to see more of the captain but that wasn’t really his choice. He was quite certain that he’d be sent back across the lines immediately or within the week if his commanding officer had his way. The information he’d gotten was good but it wasn’t enough and they would demand more. And to get more would mean returning to the enemy camps and leave the gorgeous yank behind.

It was for the best, he told himself, his eyes flickering between the man next to him and the path ahead of them. He was reminded of the lesson he got before they sent him out into the field – no attachments. And so far Eames had done well to keep himself distant from all of those he’d gotten close to while in her majesty’s service. “Be sure to tell ‘em that it was just a straggler, no one of importance,” he said, not wanting it known that he wasn’t just a soldier but an English spy. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to know that about him and if anything it might jeopardise his mission. “A'right captain, I’ll be there in twenty. Less something goes wrong and I have t'make a run for it,” he teased, mock saluting him before heading towards the communication tent.

They’d looked at him strange – the men inside the tent. He wasn’t dressed like the typical soldier and should anyone look in his sack they’d see the uniform of the enemy. But they accepted his reasons for being there and when he told them he needed to be alone while he checked in they actually left him be. The portable telephone was there and he dialed up the number he’d memorised by heart. The connection, like always, was horrible but at least it was semi-private. Eames relayed his information and in return he was told exactly what he thought. He was to return to the enemy camp within two weeks to gather more intel. He wanted to yell, to tell them that he’d just gotten back. But all he said was yes sir and left.

His mind had been elsewhere but his body had taken him to the meeting place that Steve had suggested. Eames hadn’t even heard anything until his eyes caught sight of the familiar mop of hair and flashing the other a smile, was relieved that for a little bit he wouldn’t have to think about the fact that in two weeks time he’d be leaving once again.

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   He gave a light roll of his eyes as Eames continued to tease him. Suggesting that the Captain of Able Company was a cold...

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