sho the todorki
↬ pairing: shouto todoroki x reader
↬ synopsis: you like him, he likes you. the problem? sho's in the friend zone and so it's up to mina, the resident match maker, and company to give you guys a lil push.
alternatively: sho being a dork, hence the title
↬ warning/s: profanity lol, a lot of second hand embarrassment, two insufferable idiots, idk if this is too ooc of shouto but just take this dorky version of him
↬ note: a fic dedicated to @puredivinity that serves as a welcome gift for joining the sho simp club. luv u mara despite all the cursed images i send
Class 3-A has four unspoken rules:
Number one: never play music out loud beyond 8 pm (tried and tested by Denki himself, got blown up by Bakugo)
Number two: don't leave your room at 2 am or a certain grape pervert would harass you
Number three: refrain from mentioning crocs to Kirishima. Just don’t.
And number four: never tell you or Shouto that both of you like each other (just for the sake of entertainment)
It had become customary to not break these four rules or those who dare break it is rumored to have a thousand year duration of bad luck to be passed down generation after generation.
That said, Mina was fed up with the mutual pining you and Shouto clearly exhibit. For two years she watched both of you shy and fluster with one another. His face beet red while you a fumbling mess. Truly a sight to behold. It was like watching a romance movie in real time, but without the stupid opening track.
At first she thought it was cute, it all started one morning during her first year in U.A. You forgot your jacket that day after waking up late and thus have to rush to get on time. Aizawa would have your head if you weren't there in homeroom. So in your idiocy and frantic state, you forgot most of the essential stuff and that includes, of course, a warm jacket.
Mina watched as Shouto stared at you from across the room. With tense shoulders as his gaze constantly drift from your form to his jacket. Her mouth curled upwards, interested with the current situation. It was not every day one could see the infamous Todoroki Shouto so nervous.
She eagerly kept her attention on him, watching as Shouto got up from his seat and slowly made his way to you with shaky legs. Shouto, barely uttering a word, shoved his jacket to you and rushed back to his seat. At that moment, Mina already knew something was blossoming between you and him.
And so it basically became her life mission to make sure you and Shouto end up with one another. She made the promise two years ago, and yet here you both were, two dorks that has a crush on each other but couldn't confess even if the world ends that very moment.
Was it difficult to watch? Yes.
It took all of Mina's entire being to not push his head into yours. She knows the consequences if one breaks the fourth rule. Two years had already pass and graduation is around the corner, she refuses to accept that both of you aren't a couple. As Class 3-A's resident cupid and match maker, she is more than determined to make sure you and him both end up together. Mina would not be inherently breaking rule number four, just gonna give you guys a lil' push with the help of a friend. And that friend is one that possesses an electrification quirk.
"Okay, what do we tell (____) tomorrow?" Denki asked.
Shouto looked over his written notes one last time before nodding and giving his answer, "I'll ask them if they want to have coffee."
"Good! Make sure to?"
"I'll make sure to keep eye contact and. . ." he halted, going over his notes once more. "And make sure that I'm smiling."
Denki flashed him a grin. Clasping a hand around his shoulder and lightly patting it afterwards. "Now, don't forget the lesson I've taught you today. It is important that your date goes smoothly with (____)."
Shouto eagerly nodded, stars dancing in his eyes. His heart clamored inside his chest, beating in a quick tempo comparable to that of allegro. Sweat accumulated on his palm, in which Shouto then hastily wiped it on his shirt. Despite nervousness bubbling inside his stomach, Shouto admits that he is excited to ask you out. "Do you really think (____) and I would be a great couple?"
"Of course, dude! Right, Mina?" Denki turned to his friend. She gave him two thumbs-up, giving fuel to Shouto's confidence for tomorrow's event.
Now that Denki is done giving him an hour-long lesson about asking you out and things to do in a date, Mina was sure everything would go smooth as butter. Like, what could go wrong? Despite Shouto being a dork and foreign to the concept of love, he still has that natural charm that had some swooning for him.
Though, she spoke all too soon.
Mina facepalmed, dragging her palm across her face as Shouto stood frozen before you. She and Denki should've seen this coming.
"(____)," he started, his voice cracking at the end. Suddenly the discoloration and grime in between the cracks of the wall looks interesting. He kept looking everywhere but you.
You tilted your head to the side, "What's up, Sho?"
Heavens above, Shouto loves that nickname.
The male fiddles with the ends of his shirt, his tongue twisting and throat closing which makes it hard to speak. After class had ended, Shouto came up to you asking if he could talk to you somewhere private. He led you to the area behind the gym where no students are on sight. Well, that is except for Mina and Denki who closely followed behind to make sure Shouto wouldn't mess up his chance. The two stayed low, making sure they are well hidden behind the bush nearby.
This was now the moment; the perfect chance for Shouto to ask you out after practicing his lines over and over again. It was a simple question: ‘Do you want to have coffee with me this weekend if you are free?”
Should be easy enough right?
"I- well- uhh. . ." he scratched the area behind his ear. "D-do you maybe want to free?"
Shouto paled, he'd done messed up.
"Wait that's wrong—" he took a deep breath. "Are you coffee this weekend?"
Really? Really Shouto?
"Shit— wait! Coffee this free??"
Can someone take this lost child away?
Denki bit his inner cheek, hands tugging his hair from second hand embarrassment. He had fate on him; had fate that Shouto had rehearsed enough the night before in asking you out. Guess he was wrong.
"What do you mean by that?" you voiced out. You were beyond puzzled, unsure what to make of the situation. First he asks to speak with you in private, now he's a stuttering mess. Could it be that he's confessing? Asking you out?
Your heart quickened at the thought. You were ready to say 'yes'.
"What I mean is uhh. . ." Shouto wished he has his written notes. "Are you weekend for this coffee?"
"YES!!" you shout without thinking.
Wait, what? Hold up.
"Aight, I'm forcing these two to kiss each other." Mina announced. That’s it. She lost hope for the both of you. You and Shouto need professional help. She adjusted her position, ready to get up and intervene. That is until Denki lay a heavy hand on her shoulder.
"Wait," he motioned his head to you. Mina huffed, sitting down once more.
"Sho. . ." you start, a soft smile on your face.
"Y-yes?" damn, Shouto is such a stuttering mess.
"Do you want to grab a coffee this weekend? I mean, if you are free?"
He blinked, your words slowly being registered in his brain. There was a buffer, like an old computer processing 10 kilobyte worth of data. His brain was stuck on 78% in the progress bar. Then, it dawned on him; the cogs and gears turning. It took a full minute for Shouto to understand. "I-. . .I’d love to!" he managed to stutter out.
Welp, at least that did the job. Denki and Mina released a sigh of relief. High-fiving each other despite the obvious fact that Shouto failed his task.
But hey, beggars can't be choosers. All's well, ends well.
You can't believe it.
You have a date with Shouto. THE Todoroki Shouto. The guy you've had a crush on since your first year in UA. The one that swept you right off your feet the moment you laid your eyes on him. The friend that always had your back. With him struggling to ask you earlier, could it mean that he likes you more than a friend?
You let out a squeal, pressing the pillow flush against your chest. In total, you've replayed the scene from memory for over fifty times already. You couldn't even concentrate in doing your homework. So you thought instead of doing your responsibilities, you opted to celebrate by screaming and running around your room in glee.
It wasn't everyday you'd get a douse of serotonin.
You’ve waited for this day since forever. Day dreaming about Shouto being your significant other; holding hands with him, wrapping your arms around his torso, and kissing his lips.
The thought brought forth another pterodactyl squeal from you.
Oh gods, what would you wear? Should it be casual? Semi-formal? Formal?
A wedding dress??
No one told you a date was this stressful. You groaned, prying opening your wardrobe cabinet to quickly plan out an outfit. You can’t afford to look stupid and, dare you say, cheap when you’re on a date with the most sought after male in UA.
Meanwhile, Shouto is also panicking.
“Look man, you messed up once but that’s okay!” Denki cheered him up. “Experience is the best teacher.”
“I know but. . .” Shouto took one deep breath, burying his face in his hands. “I-. . .I just froze up the moment I was in front of them.”
“And that’s normal!”
The moment you and Shouto parted ways, the male immediately went to Denki for some follow up consultation. Sure, he can fight villains face-to-face without batting an eye. Could freeze half of his enemies without a drop of sweat. Unleash an inferno of fire to defeat his oponent. Tolerate a bunch of fans shoving cameras up his face to get a close-up picture.
But Todoroki Shouto, for the love of god, couldn’t ask you out without freezing in place and become a stuttering mess.
“Lighten up man!” Denki nudged his shoulder. “Unleash the tiger inside you.”
“But I don’t have a tiger inside me. That would be anatomically incorrect.”
“Look—that’s not the—. . .what I mean is—uhh. . .nevermind. . .” the blond struggled with his words. He had to be careful with what advice he throw at Shouto. That man takes things way too literately. “What I mean is, toughen up. Have confidence on yourself. You’ll have (____) falling for you before you knew it.”
Which will be easy since (____) is a simp for him, Denki thought.
Shouto raised his fist then clenched it, determination washing over him. He gave one brief nod to his mentor (that is the personification of Pikachu).
He can do it. Todoroki Shouto could do it.
He’d go over his lines a thousand times before the date. He’d make sure he is 110% prepared before the weekend. Denki had made a dent in his schedule just to tutor him how to make you fall in love with him. Shouto wouldn’t let this go to waste.
Yes, this man is prepared and is on a mission he couldn't possibly fail.
Scratch that, Shouto’s a mess.
He pulled the end of his sleeves, his legs bouncing up and down. The male bit the inside of his cheeks, was the weather hot or was it just his insides burning up. Shouto couldn’t sleep the night before, his mind kept him up. It was like 17 browser tabs are open, with three of them frozen, and he doesn’t know where the music is coming from.
Due to the jitters getting the best of him, Shouto arrived at the agreed destination. . .two hours earlier than what was expected.
Which wasn’t a problem anyway, since you did the same.
You huffed, doubling over and placing your hands on your knees. You had ran from your house all the way to the cafe just to make sure you weren't late this time. In attempts to catch your breath, you’ve failed to notice your date standing just a few feet away from you. The minute Shouto laid his eyes on you, fire sparked deep within his heart. Someone pinch him and tell this wasn’t a dream.
“(____),” he walked close to which startled you.
“Sho! You-. . . you’re early!”
“So are you. . .”
Then silence fell between both of you. Talk about awkward. Who’s idea was it to get these two idiots in a date? If anything, both of you should’ve just left it on mutual pining and save it as a story for the grandchildren.
Shouto cleared his throat, hands scratching the back of his neck. “Well, since we’re both early. Why won’t we enter the café?”
You nodded, your voice box failing you. Inwardly, you were screaming your heart out. The embarrassment was just too much for you to handle. You doubt that Shouto would want a second date at this point.
And so you lagged behind him, keeping a feet distance away from the male. You have a hard time looking at him without making a mess for yourself. Blood rushing your cheeks, it was hard to ignore the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.
The café was quite small. A handful of potted plants hung outside, the store’s name written in calligraphy, and a few customers visible from the window. The establishment was newly built, Ochako introduced it to you about a week ago. The cheesecake they sell is to die for—it was definitely worth the hefty price.
A small chime went off as Shouto opened the door. Then it hit you; the strong smell of coffee. You were not a big fan of the beverage, but you’ve got to admit that the scent was pleasant. Without prior warning, Shouto lightly held your hand in his. His thumb gliding over the back of your hand a few times. You took in a sharp inhale, eyes widening at his gesture.
This is what they do in dates right? Shouto recalled his notes.
So this is like a DATE date?? Not a friendly date? Somebody pinch me right now, you thought.
“We should find a table,” he spoke, eyes refusing to make contact with yours. You’ve managed to stutter out an agreement, too occupied with the feeling of his hands. It was so warm—just the way you imagined it throughout the years.
You could finally die now in peace. Goodbye cruel world.
Soon enough, you and he are situated on a table near the window. Neither of you dare start a conversation, because god forbid another awkward interaction. Years worth of watching romance series could have never prepared you for such an instance. You wished you should’ve consulted some of your classmates—especially those who have experience in the topic of dating—before coming here yourself. You could try and message them, but you wondered if it would be rude to pull out your phone and ignore Shouto. No, you wouldn’t take the chance.
“Uh- So how are you, (____)?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Oh, uhhh—. . .” how does one even speak again? “I’m doing well, I guess. . .?”
That was lame, (____). Lame.
“How about you?”
Shouto was silent, you figured he didn’t hear you so you repeated yourself once again. All the while not looking at his direction. It would be better if you don’t see his face or you’ll turn into a puddle of mess.
But seconds seem to drag to minutes, and that got you concerned.
“Sho—“ you cut yourself short, realizing that he was staring at you with a lovestruck expression. He looks at you rather softly, like how one would look at a small pet one happens to cross by while walking. The way Shouto kept his gaze at you made you insecure. Was there something on your face? Hair? Shirt? Oh gods, did you smell?
You wished that, right then and there, the earth would swallow you whole.
“Sorry I was just. . .” he faltered in his sentence, gulping down his saliva. Shouto then turned his head to the side, a blush ever so present on his cheeks as well as the tips of his ears.
"Sorry, you're just—just so cute in that outfit that I can’t help but stare."
His voice was quiet, barely a whisper but you heard it, ironically, loud and clear. Your hand found its way on your mouth, blood rushing to your cheeks as a result of his compliment.
“Tha-thank you. . .” you’ve managed to croak out, looking down and fiddling with your nails.
Just. WOW. You can’t believe it. Never once did Shouto commented on your appearance throughout the duration of your friendship with him. What he did was just. . .just so unexpected from him. You find it hard to believe yourself.
All these years, you’ve hidden your feelings for him. Trapped it inside a chest and swallowed the key yourself. Him falling for you is comparable to that of pigs flying; it was impossible to happen. Yet both of you sat there, like two dorks, a blushing mess while refusing to make eye contact with one another. For once, maybe this time, you could tell him how you feel.
“I like you. . .” you voiced out your thoughts. It took you a minute to realize what you've done. You let out a small gasp and directed your attention to Shouto. He was also looking at you, baffled. He went silent, his jaw went slack, and eyes wide open, trying to find the words to reply.
Oh boi, did you made a mistake?
“(__—“
“BECAUSE YOU’RE MY FRIEND!” Your jaw tightened, declaring it all too loudly just in case he rejects you. “I like you because you’ve been a good friend to me.”
You hope you were doing this right.
Unbeknownst to you, Shouto felt his heart break into two after hearing your added comment. His shoulders slumped down, sadness clouded his features.
“I. . .I see. . .” he muttered. “I like you too,” he said after a pregnant pause.
Your whole face lit up. Now it was your turn to look at him with a baffled expression. There was a twinkle in your eye, is this it? The moment of your life?
“Because you’re my precious friend.” Shouto plastered a smile on his face.
Oh. Welp, Mina and Denki tried.
RIP to both of you, forever pushing the other in the friend zone.
ya’ll want a bakugo version of this? (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ✧
180 notes
·
View notes
Uh, I’m pretty sure I’m about to unleash a gigantic can of worms, but fuck it: How would you have done Thor Ragnarok?
fI think I just started this for the fifth time. Because however I start it, it’s like something is not working. There is always a something that bothers me and makes me go ‘bleh’. So this is more rambles than an actual story? Sorry? 😆👀
I would have taken the humour away as well as the funky synchro 80′s music. It doesn’t fit the movies and the theme it had going on. Also removed all the humiliating jokes because imo, that’s more excusing and praising bullying or straight up torture than not. Also, back to Shakespeare because that’s good stuff (only hiring Taiki so you know what not to do and hire Branagh and Whedon to know what to do exactly).
The topics that are grazed over taken more serious.
Loki and Thor’s brotherhood, for once. Thor being angry at Loki for deceiving him at first is good, just the way he treats Loki afterwards like he’s his circus dog? Eeeeh, cut that.
Make Thor and Loki work together over the movie and realise what they are to each other, let them become brothers again. Less threatening, less leaving the other on the floor, stuff like that. The movie is about setting Thor up to being destroyed and crushed completely. Well, take Thor’s confidence away in himself and his trust for the wise and just ruling of his father. Have Hela still take away Mjölnir, the throne, his friends (just in a better battle, I mean c’mon) and be the worst of Loki and Thor combined. The arrogance, the dark desire for vengeance and their own form of justice and completely thriving on it. It’s Hela who makes them work together by accident, a nice battle in Norway that still ends up with Loki saying they need to leave (but making clear why kdfjkj) and they become separated. Let them explore together who Odin really was to them. Have Loki help Thor see that Odin wasn’t a saint - that he was king first and then only a good one to the Aesir, not to anyone else. Rewrite the whole gaslighting that’s happening in the elevator. You want a brotherly talk? Yell about how you feel, fight about it until it’s out of your system. You know, Thor and Loki beating another sounds horrible but that would interesting to watch. Who’s careful not to hit where, where do you hit the most, what words trigger a stronger reaction. Till they just flap down and idk, everything just got yelled out and they can start anew. Really, just .... cut the emotional abuse in TR as well. Also the torture? Am I sat up on this? Could be 🤔 I just want my Thor back at the end of Thor 1. Still naive but a good naive, open to chance and looking like he learned and understood something. Not this villain. Really, just throw that away.
Colloquialism. I don’t know much about this just what I learned in school but like ... research that stuff more and then use it properly. There is this whole underlaying topic of racism - Aesir are better than all others, etc. Draw a comparison of Sakaar being America the land where all dreams come true and everything’s pretty on the outside but most things are wrong. Sakaar as Europe? Everything is peachy but we are also just a group of lying liars who get money for accepting shitty deals? Oh wait, that might be more Asgard. I’m just typing what I’m thinking. Oops.
Is Sakaar or Asgard better? Or which planet is in comparison better to live on than the other. Working details why both are good and why both are bad but why both appeal to you. One is ‘civilised’ the other is ‘uncivilised’. An evolved society versus a Darwinian society where only the strongest may survive. Now the question is just which planet is what, right? That’s the sort of thing I could imagine would be fun. There are endless opportunities and and and. Loki and Thor both realising - or maybe more Thor than Loki - what lies they’ve been fed with for millennials. I know very little about NZ culture which is partially been built in this movie but ... If you know things about that, then why not go out on that all the way? Missed opportunity. Make that aspect more important. Don’t play it for laughs. You know what would have been seriously amazing? Loki helping the slaves cos they’re in the same boat. Imagine all the mischief he could have pulled, ooooh another group of slaves fled? *tuts* what a shame. Just mischievous Loki who helps others to become free and by that, starts to overcome his grief at losing his lousy father and probably his brother to a sister he didn’t know he had. Now I’m seriously sad this didn’t happen 😭
Made the Grandmaster more powerful, still funny though. But do the comic way. The Grandmaster as a player who has his champions who often don’t even know their ‘luck’ and have them play his game against an opponent. Not this ‘ooh champion in an arena’ game. It’s 11pm so I’ll just leave it standing with “Grandmaster wants to play with Thor”.
Okay, long ramble short:
TR starts out the way it does, until to the point where Loki falls from the portal and kicks Strange’s ass. They go to Norway, weird talk with Odin, Hela appears, kills Odin in front of Loki and Thor, crushes Mjölnir. Loki gets separated from Thor. Loki is in grief and horror, overcomes it by causing mischief and helping the slaves because they are in a similar boat. Hela is crueler than ever, fights the Warrior Four (yes, with Sif) but kills them as well. Thor ends up on Sakaar, fearing for his life and the one of the Aesir. He meets Loki who looks comparatively well rested. Weird ass talk in the dungeon but in better words, they start to argue and it comes to a fight between them, just pure strength, no other weapons. A tentative peace agreement between them. Loki tells Thor what Sakaar is about and they forge plans together. Loki manipulating Valkyrie into joining them because that’s what he’s good at.
Revolution on Sakaar, randomly collecting the Hulk who turns into Banner when he hears Natasha’s voice. Brother’s working and talking while getting the Grandmaster’s ship, Loki doesn’t ‘betray’ Thor because they have a plan - so no torture, no weird elevator talk either. Painful talks, painful realisations on both their sides, Thor gets shaken up more and more in the movie. They go back to Asgard, Heimdall is doing as much as he can but it’s not enough. Thor doubting himself but needing to pull himself together, Loki telling him everything will become better. Eventually.
The battle scene with Thor and the Immigrant Song. Fighting Hela together, Loki distracting her first with his words then Thor cuts in and fiiiiiight, Thor loses his eye, fiiiiight, awesome choreos, Loki using his seird, tadaaaa, we’re all happy.
Battling Fenrir, killing him (poor bby), Thor tasks Loki with setting loose Ragnarök. The Aesir flee with Thor on the ARK, Loki comes a bit later.
Hug that we got denied. Thor and Loki being more brothers than ever before but Loki assuring Thor that he’d help him, guide him and Thor starts to trust him.
I guess. At least that’s what I would do currently? Then you could always still have IW happening, just Loki being a believable good fighter so he can’t be killed off like that, die a better death (he really doesn’t have to klajdfljl). Thor can still be crushed and destroyed by IW, leading to his new state of self in EG but with that he’d be ‘forced’ to look for Loki because there’s a different kind of bond between them. Movie more or less fixed. I guess.
Hope that answered your question? 😆 And I’m sorry this got so long, that really wasn’t my intention xDDD
14 notes
·
View notes
Maybe something about Bucky's triggers could be interesting... like steve knows what they are and tries to avoid them at all costs without bucky realising and is kind of overprotective in a way- idk where it could lead imma just put it out there, could get angsty, fluffy whatever
Here’s what I came up with. I like plot, so… yeah. If this didn’t quite hit it for you, let me know and I can unleash a bunch of headcanons in non-story format as a sort of companion to the Stucky stories.
This is powers/no powers choose your own adventure.
___________________________
Steve glances sideways as he ticks up the speed on his treadmill. He catches Bucky’s eye, and he can tell Bucky’s doing the same thing on his own machine. Steve ticks the speed up another notch and pumps his arms at his sides, propelling his body to move faster. Bucky’s already breaking into a sprint, his chest open forward and his quads gripping with visible musculature.
“What’s your distance at?” Steve pants, trying to see the display on Bucky’s treadmill without losing concentration on his own movements.
“Five point six,” Bucky reports.
“I’m at five point six one,” Steve says with a smile.
“Race you to six miles?” Bucky asks, raising his eyebrows and sending a bead of sweat down the side of his face.
“You’re on.” Steve ups his speed again. So does Bucky, and the sound of sneakers slapping against the treadmill belts increases to a frenetic pace.
At their speed, it only takes a couple minutes to finish the last mile. Lactic acid burns through Steve’s legs. The distance counter on his machine flicks to 6.00. “Done,” he exhales, looking at Bucky again.
Barely one second later, Bucky echoes, “Done.” They both slap the speed down and slow their sprints to a softer jogging pace.
“Ah. You win,” Bucky concedes, wiping his forehead to displace the fine hairs that have escaped from his ponytail.
“Barely,” Steve breathes. “You’re getting good. I’m going to have to step up my training to stay ahead of you.”
“Naw,” Bucky says. “I’m just happy to be in shape again…”
“I’d say it’s come back to you pretty easily,” Steve compliments. “But then again, we’re here a lot.” He gestures around at the small 24-hour gym, which, as always, is deserted at this hour.
“What time is it?” Bucky asks, slowing his treadmill to walking pace and looking over his shoulder for a clock.
“Almost five,” Steve replies, looking down at his watch.
“Fuck.”
“Well, we’ve been here since three,” Steve says with a shrug.
“The day has…too many hours. Like no matter what I do, I can barely get time to pass,” Bucky mumbles.
Steve isn’t sure how to respond. Bucky’s right. When they’re up hours before sunrise to dampen the nightmares, first instinct is to expect the day to start. But when work and other activities don’t start until at least seven or eight, something has to be done to goad the clock into moving forward. The gym’s become their go-to activity following pre-dawn wakeup calls. It gives Steve hope that Bucky has so much energy and drive, but it doesn’t take away the fact that he’s been shouting his way through paralyzing bad dreams almost nightly for the past few weeks.
Both of them have gotten stronger physically, but Steve can see the subtle wear and tear the schedule’s having on Bucky. Faint shadows show beneath his eyes. He’s quieter. Twitchier. His forehead sometimes wrinkles with what Steve knows is a headache and Bucky insists is nothing.
“Well,” Steve says, dropping his treadmill speed down to zero. “You about done here?” He steps to the carpeted floor and leans against the wall to stretch his calves.
“Yeah, I guess,” Bucky says. He surfs his treadmill belt for a few seconds as the machine turns off. The expression on his face looks upbeat enough, but Steve doesn’t like the pallor of Bucky’s cheeks or the micro tremble in his fingers.
Steve claps his hand down on Bucky’s stump shoulder. “You doing ok?” he asks quietly, wanting to check in without being overbearing.
“Sure, yeah,” Bucky murmurs, a little distantly.
“Hungry?” Steve continues. “I think we’re out of eggs. But we could find something to eat at home, or we could go out.”
“What’s open this early?” Bucky asks, flipping up the hem of his shirt to wipe more sweat from his face.
“24-hour places. IHOP,” Steve offers.
“Ok. That sounds good.”
They’d walked to the gym, so they end up walking a few blocks out of the neighborhood to a street of restaurants and shops. It’s still completely dark outside, further confusing the precarious concept of time.
Steve steps up under the IHOP’s blue canopy and holds the door open for Bucky. A sleepy-looking hostess takes them to a booth in a windowed alcove and hands them menus that are slightly tacky to the touch.
“Two coffees,” Steve orders when the woman asks if she can get them started with drinks. “And two waters, with no ice.”
Bucky’s absorbed with the menu, so Steve isn’t sure if he’s listening to the exchange. Steve’s gotten good at avoiding Bucky’s triggers, even adopting some of the habits as his own just to make things easier. Up until this most recent string of night terrors, Bucky’s been flourishing. Navigating life easily as long as certain things are avoided. They haven’t actually talked about it in a while, so Steve can’t say clearly whether or not his protectiveness is embarrassing to Bucky, but he has a feeling it probably is.
The dining room is empty except for a group of drunk-looking young people a few tables over. Steve glances at them with a disapproving look for a moment, then he realizes it’s Saturday morning. They’re probably the leftover stragglers from some Friday night party. He remembers himself and Bucky doing things like that years ago, and a single sniff of a giggle escapes him as he turns his attention to the list of omelets.
“What?” Bucky asks, giving a confused smile at the look on Steve’s face.
“Was just thinking…” Steve says. “About us as kids. Going out drinking and stuff.” That feels like so long ago, before the war came in as an unwelcome interruption. Now, sitting face to face in the restaurant booth, it’s starting to feel overwhelmingly like a date despite their gym clothes and sweaty faces. It feels like they’ve been together for a century. But before the war, it was in the closet. And now, it’s an awkward domesticity. Steve can’t drudge up a single memory of them actually going out.
“God, I barely remember that far back,” Bucky says. “We’ve gotten old.”
The waters and coffees arrive. Steve sees to rehydrating himself with the clear fluid before attacking the caffeine. Bucky takes one halfhearted sip of his water, then wraps both hands around his steaming mug. The water’s still cold even though it doesn’t have ice in it. Steve makes a mental note to ask for room-temperature next time, even though it sounds nit-picky.
The waitress comes around a moment later, and Steve selects an omelet. Bucky goes for plain pancakes with eggs and bacon, stuttering a little over his order and training his eyes downward.
“I bet you could make that,” Steve says, pointing at an advert on the wall for pumpkin French toast. Now that his menu’s gone, Bucky’s picking at a crack in the tabletop, and Steve’s reaching to give him a distraction. Bucky’s recent infatuation with the Food Network seems like a good choice.
“I bet it’s too sweet, though,” Bucky says, looking up at the pile of whipped cream and candied pecans topping the image of orange-brown toast triangles.
“But if you made it yourself, you could have it be however sweet you wanted,” Steve reminds him.
“Hm,” Bucky muses. “Might be fun. We could have breakfast for dinner, maybe for Halloween…”
“Yeah, I’d been meaning to ask, what do you want to do this year? How’re you feeling about the doorbell and stuff?” Steve poses, draining his water glass.
Bucky looks into his coffee cup. Last year, Steve’d tried putting up a sign imploring trick-or-treaters to skip their door. He and Bucky’d ended up sitting against the wall in the master bedroom listening to the doorbell ring on and off for the entire evening.
“I don’t know…” Bucky says. “I’m not…really wanting to do the same thing again.”
“I could ask Clint if they get a lot of traffic in their neighborhood. Since it’s a lot more rural than here,” Steve suggests. “Or we could get a hotel.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.
“Didn’t know it was that kind of holiday,” Bucky jokes.
Service is quick in the almost-empty restaurant, and their steaming breakfast plates arrive. The waitress generously refills their coffee mugs and leaves a collection of ketchup and hot sauce on the edge of the table. Steve adds some condiments to his hash browns, then tucks in. The workout’s left him famished. Bucky’s slower in his attack on the eggs and bacon, but nods enthusiastically when Steve asks if his meal is good.
Bucky switches back and forth between his savory plate and his pancakes. Steve directs him to the little cart of flavored syrups. “The original’s probably the least sweet,” Steve says. “But there are fruit-flavored ones, too.”
Bucky scoots down the length of the booth to investigate, accidentally knocking his napkin off the edge of the table as he moves. He’s about to change directions and lean down to pick it up when one of the young men from the drunk table passes by, likely on his way to the bathroom. His foot lands squarely on the white paper napkin, and he slips, reaching blindly for anything to break his fall.
It’s no use. The young man hits the floor, along with the ketchup and Steve’s coffee cup. The sound of glass shattering mixes with swearing, and the waitress rushes over to pull the kid off the floor and survey the damage.
Steve looks at Bucky, who’s wide-eyed and ghostly pale. “I…what did…? I didn’t mean…” Bucky’s stammer-whispering. His gaze is trapped on the young man, who’s dabbing ketchup off his jeans, and the mass of glass and ceramic and muddled red-brown liquid on the tile below.
“Buck, it’s alright,” Steve says, reaching for Bucky’s hand across the table.
Bucky retracts, hunching his shoulders. “I didn’t…I didn’t pull the trigger,” he mutters.
“You didn’t do anything,” Steve says firmly. He rounds the table, trying to avoid the mess on the floor. Bucky’s covering half his pallid face with his hand, and Steve reaches for both shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go outside for a minute. You’re safe. It’s ok.”
He pulls Bucky out the front door and off to the side so they can lean against the building’s brick façade.
“I didn’t meant to…to shoot him,” Bucky breathes.
“You didn’t shoot anyone,” Steve firmly reminds him. “That was a stupid drunk kid knocking stuff on the floor.”
“It’s my fault…”
“No,” Steve says, grounding Bucky with gentle pressure on his arm and stump. “It was an accident. That guy wasn’t paying attention.”
Bucky tips his head back against the wall and takes a gasping breath.
“Alright, get your breath back,” Steve encourages. “You’re at the IHOP in Falls Church. You’re close to home. You’re with me. You’re gonna be ok.”
“Steve,” Bucky mutters.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Steve says. Bucky’s white face is illuminated blue with the glow of the restaurant’s sign. His jaw’s hanging slack; Steve wonders if he’s feeling sick.
“Sorry,” Bucky whispers.
“It’s ok. Don’t worry about anything. You’re gonna be fine.”
“Can we…please go home?”
“Yeah, of course,” Steve says. “We’ll have to walk. Are you feeling up to it?”
Bucky swallows hard and nods.
“Ok,” Steve says. Then, “You sure you’re feeling alright?”
Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and seems to battle for coherency. “Like…kind of sick, but…still really hungry?” he tries.
Steve chuckles at the honesty, relieved Bucky’s able to get in touch with his own feelings. “How about we take breakfast to go?”
14 notes
·
View notes