maybe is a little wrench

anonymous asked:

Imagine Steve being sort of a nervous wreck the first time Sam goes out as Captain America without him

Four steps. Turn. Four steps. Turn. Four steps. Turn.

Steve pauses, unlocks his phone and stares at his apps for a moment before locking it again.

Four steps. Turn.

Sam should have been home an hour and seven minutes ago. He’d texted to let Steve know he’d arrived at HQ and expected to be home by eight.

9:07. 9:08. Four steps. Turn.

Finally, knowing he was probably being paranoid and hating it, Steve dials Sam’s number and presses the call button before he can talk himself out of it.

Two rings. Four steps. Turn. Five rings. Four steps. Turn.

When Sam’s voice picks up, not his real voice but the canned one, his voicemail, Steve hucks his phone at the wall. It embeds itself into the plaster.

Four steps. Turn. Four st–

A key in the lock. Steve rushes for the door, yanks it open before the person on the other side turns the handle.

Sam stands there, shiny and unhurt and maybe a little nonplussed at having the doorknob wrenched out of his hand. “Oh, hi,” he says. “Miss me?”

anonymous asked:


study buddies

Nathan rubbed his eyes. It was a little after midnight and he still had three more pages to write tonight. Finals blew, especially when he had one on the last day and the rest of his friends didn’t. Most of them were already gone for the summer, except Harper, who had given up on studying an hour ago, and Monty.

Glancing at the door, Nate frowned. He had written two paragraphs since Monty had left to go get a snack. It was taking him an awfully long time, and he was starting to be concerned he had fallen asleep in the hallway. Monty had been working way too hard studying for his organic chemistry final, in his own opinion. Standing, he decided to go find him if only to prove a point that it was time to break for the night.

The nearest vending machine was just around the corner, and when Nate rounded it, he burst out laughing.

Monty was sitting on the floor with his back to the machine, legs outstretched, expression defeated, and arm stuck in the dispenser compartment. As soon as he heard him, he snapped his head up and scrunched his nose.

“It’s not funny!” He protested. “I’m fucking hungry, Nate!”

Nathan glanced up at the cheetos bag stuck halfway down the glass and just laughed harder. He clutched his stomach as Monty’s expression turned petulant.

“Holy shit,” he wheezed as his laughter died down. “God, I needed that. Thank you.”

“I do what I can to amuse,” Monty deadpanned. “Now help get me out?”

Nathan took one more look at him, expecting his stomach to flip with amusement again. As he looked at the disgruntled guy in front of him, his heart flipped over instead. The last piece of the puzzle he had been trying to solve all semester–why he wanted Monty to laugh at his sarcastic comments, why he wanted to come to the spring drama exhibition, why he liked it best when it was just him and Monty walking home together from the bar after a night out with their friends–fell into place and oh hell.

“You going to just stand there staring at me all night or are you going to free me from this satanic contraption?” Monty finally said.

Taking a deep breath, Nathan refocused. “I thought I was the drama major,” he snarked as he bent down to help.

It took a bit of awkward finagling, which put Monty’s face way, way, way too close to his (not that he was complaining, really, especially when he noticed that maybe Monty was blushing just a little bit), but finally he was able to wrench his hand free. Monty sighed in relief, and Nathan’s heart flipped over again at the soft grin on his face.

“Thanks,” he said, turning closer to him. That would’ve been that, except then Monty squeezed his upper arm too, his hand a warm, gentle pressure. It was so late, and Nathan was so tired and flattened by his realization that he really, really wanted to take Monty home with him that he just turned and kissed him.

Monty didn’t move for a moment, shocked no doubt, and Nathan closed his eyes in regret because oh god oh fuck what did he just do. Then, though, after a little quiet intake of breath, Monty tipped his head to deepen the kiss. Something warm flooded through Nathan, and when they broke off–so very much later–he was smiling.

“Guess it was a good thing I didn’t get those cheetos after all,” Monty murmured. “Nobody wants to kiss someone with cheeto breath.”

Nathan cracked up again, and Monty laughed softly too. With an amused shake of his head, Nate slipped his hand into Monty’s and tugged him back towards the room.

“So I guess we’re done for tonight?” Monty asked.

“With studying yeah,” Nathan replied with a cheeky grin.

Monty smiled back, eyes glinting, and said, “Awesome. Best finals week ever.”

Packing up his stuff, Nathan smiled even wider because he really couldn’t disagree.