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Brock pulls out of his parking space so fast he almost clips the car coming down the lane and flips the bird to whoever it is while he ignores the pointed look Bucky’s giving him from the passenger side.
All he wants to do is get home and it would be a lot easier when a good chunk of the student body wasn’t attempting the same thing. He slams on the brakes when Jack just casually steps off the curb and directly in front of his Toyota on route to the exit.
“Whadda ya, blind? Get out of the way, Jack!” Brock yells out his window. “I already told you inside that we’re done talkin’.”
Jack clenches his jaw. “No.”
“I will run ya over, don’t fuckin’ test me.”
“No you won’t,” Jack says confidently. Brock hates that sharp gaze he’s getting back because Jack knows him too well. He inches his car forward just to be a dick and Jack frowns yet still keeps his stand where he is. With his patience wearing thin, Brock runs pros and cons about running his boyfriend over while Bucky keeps staring at him.
“Just pull over and talk to him, this is like a terrible soap opera. You’re trying to ignore him because he got called in for work yesterday and he’s willing to let you run him over. You both belong together.”
“Hey!” Brock whips to glare at him. “He didn’t call me, stood me up when we were supposed to go out together. That’s an asshole thing to do, don’t pick his side!”
Bucky raised his hand in surrender, “I’m not. I just don’t think he meant to do that to you. He only picked up work to buy you things, it’s so obvious.”
Brock squinted at him but said nothing because he was pretty sure that’s why Jack took the job too which was nice but he really didn’t have to. “I hate ya, don’t be logical when I’m angry at someone.”
“It’s the best time for me to be logical.”
“Brock.” Jack broke in and Brock turned to find his stupid face looking unhappy. “Please.”
“Don’t you even make that face, I’m so mad at you!” Brock warned though he could feel his resolve crumbling which only makes him further irritated. “You didn’t call me, you coulda! I was waitin’ all night and you didn’t even answer my calls. I was worried, stupid jackass.” He glowered at that dumb face, no way he would let him win.
“I’m sorry.” Jack moved in closer to the driver’s side door. “It was so busy, I didn’t have my phone on me and then I came home and crashed. I didn’t mean to mess up.”
“Well ya did.” Brock pouted out petulantly. Bucky snorts and gets an arm swatted into his chest. “I thought somethin’ happened, I don’t deserve that shit.”
The corner of Jack’s mouth twitches upwards, hand coming up to rest at the frame of the open window. “You don’t.”
“Fuckin’ right.” Brock says, a few distant honks around him reminds him where they are. “You know yer drawin’ a crowd, right?” Students blocked out of leaving are hanging out in between cars, others walking through just stare at the both of them.
“I don’t care about them, I care about you.” Jack throws back with a smile threatening to get bigger.
“Too late to be layin’ on the sugar.” Brock lies.
“Yeah, yeah! Rollins loves Rumlow, Rumlow loves Rollins! We all know! It’d be nice if you two didn’t get back together while blocking the exit!”
“Shut up, Stark!” Brock yelled out his window towards the flashy car sitting behind him and only receives a honk back, hands shooing him to go.
“Good, you’re still here.” Natasha announces from the other side of the car with Clint in tow and they both climb into the back expectantly ready to get driven home. “Thanks for holding him up for us, Jack.”
Jack’s mouth fell open to protest that he obviously didn’t plan that but then just shrugs instead and Tony honks his horn obnoxiously again.
“Oh my fuckin’ God.” Brock mutters, dropping his head into his hands.
“Come on, Brock.” Jack leaned against the door, his voice close to whining and Rollins never whines. “I’m free tonight and if you don’t have plans, I wanna take you to Nick’s for pizza and then we can go see that horror movie you’ve been going on about.”
“Ugh, I hate you.” Brock groans, punching at his steering wheel and making it honk while also scaring a gaggle of girls trying to cross out in front of his car and Bucky gives them a sympathetic look.
“You should forgive him, I know I would.” Clint pipes in, sucking down the last of his slurpee.
“No one fuckin’ asked you, Barton.” Brock points a finger at Jack, “And you. Quit tryin’ to bribe me with pizza and a movie I’ve been beggin’ ya to see. Yer an asshole.”
Jack leans his head into the car, reaching out to cup Brock’s face and dammit, he missed Jack touching him. “Tony’s right though, I do love you.”
“Still an asshole an’ ya owe me more than that. Don’t think I’m so easy to forgive.”
They’re inches from each other’s faces and Jack nods seriously. “I know, Brock.”
The sound of crinkling plastic causes Brock to lean his head out curiously and Jack’s holding a small bouquet of roses to his side. “Are ya fuckin’ kiddin’ me right now? You bought me roses too?”
“Who else would I be buying flowers for?” Jack shoots back but his face has a soft glow of pink. Brock just barely catches Bucky fist bumping Nat and then Clint. Traitors.
“I wish you weren’t so damn cute, then I could milk this fer a little while longer.” Brock tells him, reaching out to finger at his boyfriend’s letterman jacket while he brushes his lips by Jack’s ear. “We should order pizza in and you should let me wear nothin’ but that jacket.”
Jack smirks suggestively and that does things to Brock that shouldn’t happen in public. “Deal.” He then presses their lips together and Brock misses this part the most.
Jack cups his face like he’s made of glass and it’s easy like this to let his mouth open so Jack’s able to slip his tongue in. Brock might have moaned a little as he snakes his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and Bucky heavily sighs behind him.
Someone wolf whistles behind Jack and Brock immediately gives the finger towards the sound.
“Damn Jack, don’t suck his face off.” Lang shouts out almost a minute later and that’s what gets Brock to break away from Jack’s lips. He drops his forehead forward against Jack’s shoulder with a groan and shake of his head.
“I’d like to continue this without all the attention and freeloaders in my car.”
“You started it.” Jack mumbles against his neck, nosing his pulse point and making Brock shiver.
“And I don’t regret a damn thing.”
Tony honks at them again and Brock rolls his eyes, thumbing at the back. “Get in loser, yer gonna spend the rest of the day apologizin’.”
Clint grins, poking his head between the two seats before him and draping his arms against them. “Are we invited?”
Natasha puts a hand over his mouth and there’s a chorus of cheers when Jack climbs into the back.
“Get it good, Rumlow.” Someone standing on the grass shouts his way.
Ignoring them, he turns his head to Jack. “I really do hate you.”
Jack smiles. “I know.”