Re: [Yelling, maybe: Steve, Janus, Atticus]
Steve heard the echo of Atticus' voice from the enclave of the kitchen. He wasn't ignorant or oblivious to the agitation evident in the two words shared at large. He was just shaking his head to himself when he heard footsteps speeding toward him. The wafting mixture of scents surged into the hallway, cigarettes, coffee, hellfire (that was how Steve thought of it; he wouldn't know what brimstone smelled like). Just behind the wall of scents came Janus, and Steve smiled at him. "Not belated yet." It was still 4th. Wasn't it? Was it past midnight? Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket, but it was still off.
He moved toward Janus and the kitchen, pressing a hand to the other man's shoulder in greeting. "Want some coffee?" Clearly there already was some, but he offered anyway, squeezing between Janus and the wall. He pushed into the kitchen, where Atticus was leaning against the counter like an angry mother hen. Steve gave Atticus a tired, if wry smile. "Hey, Ma."