Mr. Rogers And ME [BL]

Especially when, after enduring the situation for so long, he realized, to no surprise, that the robber had finally botched negotiations with the police.

Young people these days, can't they show a little more respect for their elders?

Forced into a corner at gunpoint after losing his value as a hostage, Lirael rubbed his sore shoulder, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He reached out to help his sobbing coworker, who was now hiccupping from crying, gently patting his back to calm him down.

"You've got quite the nerve," the robber sneered.

The stark contrast between Lirael's calm demeanor and his panicked coworker must have caught his attention. As he pulled open his jacket to reveal the bomb strapped to his waist, the robber shot a vicious glance at Lirael, though his grip on the gun remained firm. "You still waiting for those bastards outside to come and save you? Don't even think about it! They won't risk their lives for two worthless hostages!"

"Is that so," Lirael sighed, his expression unchanged. "But it doesn't seem like anyone would need to risk their lives to save us."

"What?" The robber froze, clearly confused by his words.

Lirael glanced briefly at the flash of golden hair outside the window and shook his head, sighing more audibly this time. "Sometimes, the reason you're still standing here isn't because no one can stop you. It's because they're waiting for someone to come up with a better solution."

He paused before adding, "And now, it looks like they've found one."

What the hell?

The robber could understand every word he said, but the meaning behind them was completely lost on him. Frowning, he raised his gun to silence him, but before he could act, a loud, piercing crash shattered the silence. The sound of breaking glass rang out.

Crash!

The window had been smashed from the outside, and the robber barely caught a glimpse of something round and red-blue streaking past his line of sight, brushing his cheek with the force of a gust of wind. At the same time, a figure leaped through the broken window, swiftly closing in on him.

It was someone unexpected, yet entirely unsurprising.

"Captain America!"

The robber pulled the trigger the moment he recognized who it was, but his shots only hit overturned tables and chairs. His face twisted with frustration as he watched Captain America gracefully dodge the incoming bullets. In that instant, the robber realized he had no chance of defeating the world-famous super-soldier, and there was no way he could escape unscathed from this encounter.

But in truth, this was exactly what Lirael had been waiting for.

The robber fired a few more shots, yet none even grazed Captain America's uniform. His eyes grew dark and vicious. While he continued aiming the gun with his right hand, his left hand quietly crept toward the bomb strapped to his waist.

Then, Let's go die together.

His pupils reflected the image of Captain America, dodging bullets and charging toward him. A twisted grin spread across the robber's face, his expression wild with madness. "Hail Hydra—"

However, just as his fingers were about to reach the detonator, something struck him hard from behind. It hit his hand, knocking it off course. At the same time, he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, his vision darkened, and under Captain America's astonished gaze, he staggered a couple of steps before collapsing at the hero's feet.

Steve, still frozen mid-punch: ???

He had seen many Hydra operatives self-destruct, but this one practically knocked himself out. Captain America stood there, dumbfounded for a few seconds, his expression torn between confusion and hesitation. Before he could even speak, a figure who smell like a cream and sugar suddenly come out from the corner and rushing toward him. Like an octopus, the person wrapped around him, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I knew Captain America would come to save us!"

Wearing the bakery's employee uniform, the cashier, who had been tied up just moments ago, now clung to Steve's chest, bawling. The Captain, clearly unprepared for this reaction, was momentarily stunned. Meanwhile, Lirael, who had just shoved the poor man toward Captain America, stood happily in the same spot. He discreetly hid the stool leg behind his back, pretending as though nothing had happened. He then casually nudged the unconscious robber on the ground with his foot and said.

"Thank you for your selfless bravery, Captain. If it weren't for your heroic rescue, my coworker and I would likely be corpses by now. You truly are a bold and noble soldier."

Steve: ...Wait, no, that's not true. I didn't—

"Actually—"

Captain America felt the need to clarify that the smack to the Hydra agent's head with a stool leg was not his doing. In fact, he hadn't even laid a finger on the guy. But when he finally managed to coax the bakery employee off of him and looked up at the elf's absurdly handsome face, with a finger gently pressed to his lips, the words he had prepared got stuck in his throat. He couldn't spit them out or swallow them, almost choking on his own unspoken questions.

"...You were brave."

In the end, Steve nodded, managing to squeeze out this vague and noncommittal sentence.

"Thank you," Lirael replied with a warm smile. He bent down, picked up the shield from the floor, and handed it back to him. By this point, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and NYPD officers had stormed into the shop, quickly handcuffing the Hydra operative who had brazenly caused trouble in broad daylight. They began handling the aftermath while also trying to prevent a mob of excited New Yorkers from swarming Captain America for autographs and photos.

After that, they didn't get another chance to speak.

Once the robber was subdued, Steve made his way to the edge of the barricade, deftly navigating the crowd and media. A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent escorted Lirael out of the wrecked bakery and thoughtfully draped a blanket over her shoulders, preparing to take her to the NYPD to file a report. But just before getting into the car, Lirael couldn't resist glancing back one last time, his gaze landing on the blonde man with the shield. A fleeting, unreadable emotion flashed through his eyes.