log: Mack/Bucky B/Steve R
[After catching his breath after his run and after a quick, silent dousing under the cold water of the corroded heads of the gym showers, Steve dressed, a sweatshirt with a hood tugged up over the blond of his hair, and, without sparing a glance for Mack, made a beeline for the poor, defeated punching bag in the corner. It faced away from everyone, and he was able to keep his back to the room. Shoulders up, fists bare but for tape, and his expression one of frustration.
He wasn't imagining Tony's face on the canvas, but he was close to that point. He—Steve—had been an ass, he knew. But, Tony? Tony was an asshole. Everything was a mess and with the yoke of leadership, unwanted and unrecognized, around his neck, it was up to Steve to fix it. But right now, he needed to lose some steam before his date with Peggy.]