[ If he drives a little faster, if he takes a few short-cuts and maybe pushes the whole speeding thing just a touch, well, it's understandable, he figures. Steve takes the freeway down, and gets caught in only a few moments of traffic before he makes it home fairly on time. There's no point in trying to be stealthy with his bike, so he doesn't bother, pulling up into the garage and easing inside.
The jacket gets tossed over a chair, and Steve moves into the living room to the bedroom, lingering in the doorway with a hip cocked. ]
Hey.
[ It's not the military brusqueness from before, just a low, pleased little rumble to his voice. ]
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The jacket gets tossed over a chair, and Steve moves into the living room to the bedroom, lingering in the doorway with a hip cocked. ]
Hey.
[ It's not the military brusqueness from before, just a low, pleased little rumble to his voice. ]