being drenched whilst wearing white
Steve’s been expecting Sam for a while now—he’s already took a few laps to warm up, just a 5k or so—and it’s getting past fashionably late and sliding into Sam definitely is sleeping in today so don’t wait up territory.
“So that’s how it is,” Steve sighs, picking up his pace. He is considering the phrasing on his upcoming text—is hope you’re catching some zzz’s worse than you don’t need any more beauty sleep, or that too forward?—when he faintly hears a whoosh.
“Must be a low-flying helicopter,” Steve says to himself, passing by the large pool that leads up to the Washington Monument at a brisk pace.
The sound gets louder.
“A very… low-flying… helicopter,” Steve frowns to himself.
“ON YOUR LEFT,” Sam Wilson howls, flying past Steve and drop kicking him into the water.
Steve is soaked to the gills when Sam finally lands—Sam, who has not stopped laughing since Steve was fully submerged.
“Cute,” Steve says cooly. “Very cute." Sam looks like he’s got a lot more to say but he nearly chokes on—on what, air?—when he sees Steve standing up out of the water. “What,” Steve asks, looking down at himself. He’s wearing one of his work-out tee’s (not his favorite gray one, but a white one that he usually saves for sleeping) that is now, for all intents and purposes, completely see-through. Steve smirks slightly and casually begins to stretch. “Not my usual cool down, but it’ll do.”
"Uh,” Sam says, a little stunned. “Damn. Tell me you’re flexing right now.”
“Maybe,” Steve grins. “Maybe not. Maybe you should think twice about kicking me into ponds.”
“One: this ‘pond’ is definitely man-made, two: I think everyone should be kicking you into ponds if this is the result,” Sam says, listing things off on his fingers. “Like. It should be a law.”