Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve and Bucky pulled up to park in front of the cafeteria on campus, ready for their first day back.

As juniors, they finally have a place of their own, off campus, so they don’t have to deal with all the insanity that comes with living on campus. Particularly the madness that is the first two weeks of every semester and the last two weeks of every semester.

Moving in and out of dorms just had no appeal. They had both been stuck with some shitty roommates in their first two years with their respective programs keeping them from living with each other.

Steve is taking courses for art therapy. The arts programs got the newer section of campus, where the accommodations weren’t just your average dorm room. It was set up a bit more like an apartment, a (very) small communal living area, with two bathrooms, one in each corner, and four separate (but still shockingly cramped) rooms.

Bucky, a culinary student, always had the main dorms that go way back to when the campus was first opened, along with the rest of the Bachelor of Science programs. Culinary kids are in the building the closest to the cafeteria (which makes sense to everyone, even though Bucky is still sour about the whole thing), and are set up like regular dorms. One large open room with two beds with one bathroom at each end of the hall.

They weren’t bad as far as dorms go, but they were still dorms.

And no kitchen, of course, in either set up. Because how else do they expect anyone to actually pay for a meal plan at the cafeteria? (The food isn’t that bad Steve always reminds him, because Bucky himself is one of the students in charge of helping to prepare the food on certain days of the week, but Bucky has always been a bit bitter about not having access to his own cooking space.)

So Steve had three roommates plus himself living in his little suite, and Bucky had one. Between the two years, Steve had had nine different roommates (the original three with one trading out for a new one second semester of the first year, and the second original three, with only one staying and being replaced for two new kids in his second year), while Bucky had been through four (he insists that is not a reflection on his character, simply his roommates being ill equipped for college life. Steve doesn’t touch that conversation. He knows better by now).

Throughout their four semesters, they had been through a combined total of thirteen different roommates. And only one of them, the kid who Steve lived with second year, first semester and then actually stayed for second semester, had actually become a friend of theirs.

They had tried to get him to move into a place with them as the school year had drawn to a close, but he was there on a scholarship.

“Sorry guys, I need the scholarship to be able to even think about getting my degree,” Clint had insisted. Terms of his scholarship dictated he had to remain on campus all four years. He was a freshman during Steve and Bucky’s sophomore year. “Although, I wouldn’t say no to a really comfy couch with my name on it.”

Which, of course. That was Clint to a T. He had never been shy about coming into Steve’s room, like his actual room, and pulling up a seat on the desk chair or the corner of his bed.

He was a lot like Bucky in that aspect, no second guessing himself, once he made friends with you, you had him for life and vice versa.

So, yes, of course, they had assured him. He even came with them to pick out the couch. And proceeded to live on it every weekend for the whole summer because he couldn’t stand being home for too long. His family...was difficult. That was all either of them had ever gotten out of the younger man.

And it suited them just fine. They all coexisted extremely peacefully, despite how strong willed they all were.

At least according to Steve’s mother. He had a feeling she might’ve been censoring herself a bit.

But the summer was finally over and they were now ready for the first day of their junior year.

Clint had asked to meet at the cafeteria since he had to do the whole moving-in thing again. They were a few minutes early (a miracle for anyone who knew the two of them, always late despite the best of intentions).

They stepped out of the car and scouted the scene, looking for the familiar spiky blonde head of hair. They found him sitting at on of the outdoor tables around the building with a small red-haired girl.

“Hey, Hawkeye!” Bucky yelled over the masses. Clint was part of the archery team at the school, and he had most definitely earned a name for himself. Hawkeye: best archer the team had ever seen.

Clint looked up and spotted them instantly. The redhead turned and looked as well.

Steve felt his heart slow before skipping a beat entirely. She was stunning. Pale skin, but not unhealthy looking, red hair that looked more natural on her than Clint looked with a bow or Bucky looked with a knife, and piercing blue-green eyes that he knew instinctually could tear the darkest secrets from his soul with a single look.

Wow. Just...wow…

She turned back to Clint and stood, half hugged him before grabbing her bag and walking away with a wave.

“...dude.”

Steve was pulled back to the present by Bucky, his judgemental tone obvious even though Steve knew he would never be judged by his best friend. Not after everything they’d been through together.

Turning back to Bucky and Clint as he jogged up to join them, he felt his face just a little warmer than it had been a moment ago.

Clint looked between Steve and the departing redhead and back again. “You good, man?”

The smirk on his face said things Steve did NOT like.

“Ya- yeah, course. Just- I dunno, forgot all the craziness, you know?” After his voice failed the first try, Steve felt he made a decent recovery.

The smirk on both their faces now said otherwise.

“You know what, let’s just get to the offices to get our official schedules, alright?” Steve started heading to the administration building without waiting to see if they would follow. Either they would or they wouldn’t.

Which meant either they would continue the path they had been heading down and begin pestering him, or they would drop it like he clearly wanted.

“So, already, huh?” Bucky kept up with his long strides easily. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve responded without looking at either of them.

“Oh come on, Buck, leave him alone.” Clint defended him? What- “After last year’s vow of solitude, it’s only to be expected.” Nope, there it was.

“Monkhood not suiting you, Rogers?” Damn if he didn’t need new friends. Who keeps them as long as he’s had Bucky anyway.

“Haha, really funny guys. Drop it okay? Maybe I thought I recognized her, it caught me off guard, I don’t know. Just move on, will ya?” Defensiveness rarely got them to ease up but then suddenly some dude on a scooter went flying by them, clearly not in control before promptly being flung over the handlebars and face planting into the grass not ten feet in front of them.

Ah, the beauty of college.

His moment of shame forgotten, they made their way into the office building to take care of their business before going about their days.

They made plans to meet up at the coffee place on campus after Bucky got released (as a culinary kid, his classes released the latest, since they were required to assist with meal prep once they got into the swing of things) and figure out how the semester was going to play out (meaning who was gonna get stuck waiting for who and when, since they tried to only bring in one car and since Clint lived on campus he wasn’t allowed to park anywhere but in his resident’s lot).

They went their separate ways and Steve had all but forgotten about the redhead from this morning.

Or so he liked to think.

Chapter Text

“-and then she turned to look directly at me!” He gestured the I’m-watching-you motion to demonstrate his point, reversing it to show the “eyes” watching him instead of the other way around. “Like I was the only one who has ever fallen asleep in her class before!” He finished and threw up his arms in exasperation, like he just couldn’t believe how unfair it was of her.

“Oh, no, of course not! Definitely not the only one!” Steve exclaimed feigning back Clint up.

“Thank you!” Clint declared, glad his friends were validating his complaints.

“Then again,” Bucky cut in, just like Steve had known he would, “you may be the only one to request five more minutes when she called you on it.” Bucky flopped down next to Steve on the worn love-seat in the old coffee shop/cafe they had made their usual meeting place.

Clint was in a slightly ratty but deceptively comfortable armchair facing the love seat at an angle. He glared as Steve and Bucky high-five without having to look at the other, grins firmly on both faces.

“Look, it was one time-”

“Three times,” Bucky corrected. “-and it’s’ not like I planned it-”

“You literally walked out of the cafeteria after lunch talking about your ‘nap-time class’.” Steve pointed out helpfully.

“-and she’s acting like I personally attacked her!” Hands up, shoulders shrugged like he honestly couldn’t understand the logic the other two saw clear as day, Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. Better to just go with it. He’ll get over it by the end of the week.

“You’re right. Totally unfair of her.” Steve placated Clint and shaking his head. “Yeah, way off base, dude.” Bucky said, though his tone still held just a hint of humor. Clint, bless his heart, missed both. “Exactly!” And with that, Clint slumped back in his seat, clearly pleased with himself for swaying their opinions of the situation.

Steve just chuckled and wrote it off as another of Clint’s quirks. He had to have noted the sarcasm, just decided to ignore it. He did that a lot, they had come to find. Always claimed it was “part of his charm.’

Bucky and Steve just let that whole conversation go. Wasn’t worth the effort.

Shaking his head, Clint must have decided they’d been on him long enough and chose to ask, “So, any teachers with a vendetta against either of you this semester?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “She doesn’t have a ‘vendetta against you,’ Clint.”

She might. Steve didn’t voice his thought out loud.

The down side of following such specific programs, a lesson they had learned the hard way in the last two years, is that you ended up having a lot of the same teachers for several different classes. And they’d all encountered at least one who seemed to remember them less than fondly.

Not exactly something you think about when you’re a freshman who had been up until 6 am only to wake up for class at 8 am and promptly snore through a lecture on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.

Thankfully they were all good enough students, polite (Steve) and charming (Bucky and Clint) enough, that they could turn the situation in their favor. And on top of that, talented as hell in their chosen fields.

Bucky had always been gifted in the kitchen. Steve had always had an eye for color and detail, making for some exceptional work in his various art classes. Anyone would expect him to become a fully fledged artist, but with a therapist for a mother, his passion always leaned more towards helping people.

The compromise between the two things had been to become an art therapist. It was something his mother had started him with after everything had happened with his father and he passionately believed in the power of art in the process of healing.

Clint was getting his Bachelor of Arts in some communication related field. His goal for a career path was some sort of speech therapy. Which makes sense considering his past and personal experience with hearing...stuff?

Steve is never sure exactly how to refer to that kind of stuff. He knows of course that Clint uses hearing aids, but they as a group have never really discussed the whole thing. Clint seemed inclined to gloss over the whole thing, and other than a few rough patches where they had to repeat themselves more often than usual for a few days maybe (presumably when like, the batteries in his aids were dying or some shit, although Steve is less that positive if that’s how those kinds of things work) it’s just never really been all that important.

Clint and Steve have a lot of crossover in their coursework, as both planned on having a focus on pre-adolescent cases. Youth art therapy and speech therapy both seemed like the more important areas to get into things for the most benefit to the student.

But that meant a huge focus on youth development and psychology. Steve got to most classes before Clint did, being a full year ahead of him, but they had one class together in Clint’s first semester, and had planned for one again this semester.

It was one of those awful mostly female classes that Bucky always said sounded like a dream, but to the only two males in the room, was actually terribly intimidating. No matter how tightly Clint liked to spin the stories into him demonstrating all of his “smooth as silk” skills when it came to the ladies.

Steve had witnessed. They had very different definitions of the word smooth.

“Well mine are the same old, same old. Nothing to report on there.” Bucky, being in a more specialized program had the same set of kids he had started the program with all the way through to graduation. As well as the same handful of teachers every semester.

He continued, “Just went through the good ol’ review of how to not kill yourself in the kitchen so far. Boring.” He rolled his eyes. “If I wanted to die via food prep, do they really think it would’ve taken me this long to do it? I mean, it’s been two whole years. Come on.”

He finished with his signature smirk, like he was the most clever person on the planet to come up with that kind of joke.

Steve rolled his eyes back, and countered, “Probably. It did take you a whole year to figure out you had accidentally switched the temperature setting to Celsius on your oven at home.”

The immediate, “Can it, Rogers,” accompanied by the glare he sent Clint, who had doubled over in his chair did little to stifle the laughter for either of them.

“Your mom was one more burnt pizza away from revoking your food privileges permanently.” Steve reminded, trying to keep his voice steady even though tears were gathering in his eyes as he spoke.

Bucky had a look in his eye when Steve had calmed enough to carry on a conversation again, although he and Clint were both experiencing the aftershocks from their laughing fit every couple seconds still. And Steve knew that look. He was going to regret saying it. And soon.

“So, how were your classes, Stevie? Catch another glimpse of that girl you’re in love with yet?” Damn Bucky. He always knew where to hit, exactly when it was least convenient.

Clint perked up at his words. “Oh? Who is this that he’s talking about? You holding out on me?” Clint asked with a wink, leaning forward on his knees like he was settling in for the juiciest gossip of his life.

At his rate, Steve felt like his eyes were never going to recover from all the rolling they were doing. “It’s nothing, guys. Bucky is exaggerating. You know how he is.” Steve reached into his bag, trying to hide his face before the color had finished creeping up his neck and onto his face where they would be able to see it and call him on it.

“Bullshit.” Of course he wasn’t successful. “You really do have something for that girl. Well, damn. I was just giving you shit!” Bucky laughed as he looked over his friend, realizing quickly that he hit the nail on the head even though he didn’t know he was aiming for it.

Clint looked even more interested now. “Well, come on. Fill me in here. What’s the deal with you and mystery woman?”

Steve glared at Bucky, face going from a light flush to a nice, bright pink. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Does he, Bucky.” Steve shot his best warning glare at his friend, hoping to get across that, no, he doesn’t want to make something out of nothing with this girl that is, most likely someone Clint has a connection with, if seeing her with him this morning was any indication.

Clint, looking back and forth between the two in confusion before getting a glint in his eyes like he had found some forbidden secret, decided to make it really simple for both of them. “Any chance the girl you’re talking about has red hair? And is about” he held up a hand at approximately eye level on himself, “this tall? Or should I say, small?”

His grin threatened to break his face when Steve face finally settled on an all American red.

“That would be her!” Bucky said, pointing at Clint with both hands.

Steve very seriously thought about just up and leaving.

“I gotta tell ya, buddy. I’m not sure you’re ready for that.” Clint cocked his head to the side to look at Steve, half shaking it in warning. “She’s- well, she’s something else.”

He said it fondly, but not with enough feeling for there to be anything between them.

That shouldn’t have been as big a relief as it was to Steve.

Bucky looked like this was some amazing gift he had been given. “Oh, please, Clint. Do tell, my friend.” He had a conspiratorial look in his eye that Steve was all too familiar with.

“No, Buck. Stop whatever it is you’re planning, right now. I want no part of whatever you’re plotting, I’m not gonna try anything with that girl, I don’t wanna know anything about her, just cool your jets, man.” Steve just wanted to stop whatever disaster in the making was going on in his friend’s head before it became a fully realized disaster.

“Come on, Stevie! You’ve gotta at least see how it goes! I’ve never seen anyone have that kind of reaction to another person, let alone you! I need to be able to tell this story to embarrass you at your wedding!” Bucky had on his best pouting face, but the tone to his words was sheer mockery.

“Okay, I’m leaving. Good luck hitching a ride back to the apartment.” Steve got up and started gathering his things. It was about time to head home anyway, getting pretty late in the day and they all had decently early classes tomorrow. And he wouldn’t really leave Bucky.

Although he might drive around a couple blocks before coming back to get him. He deserved it.

The light in Clint’s eyes was reaching an alarming level. Steve would have to be on his toes with these two for the foreseeable future. “You know what, I’m gonna stay out of it.” Cling held his hands up in surrender. “If you wanna go for it, go for it. She’s great, awesome human being. Could be good, you never know.”

That was oddly supportive of him? Bucky pouted again, but started gathering up his mess. Not even a week into the semester and already making himself at home, the table and end table covered in his things, none of which could even possibly be homework yet. Clint was ready to leave already, nothing but his bad and phone to grab, keys already dangling from his lanyard around his neck.

After they walked out the door together, saying goodbye to the girl at the counter, Clint turned to walk the two blocks back to his room, while Steve and Bucky headed for the car in the parking lot.

Abruptly, Clint turned around, continuing to walk backwards, and shouted, “But, if you do go for it, don’t say I didn’t warn you!” before laughing and turning back around and heading around the corner giving them a peace sign as his hand was the last thing to disappear.

Steve reached the car and threw his bag in the back seat before getting in himself. Shaking his head, he tried to decide how worth it it would be to try to make new friends. Dropping into the driver’s seat, and jamming the key into the ignition, he decided he was probably just stuck.

Although looking over at Bucky, who was still chuckling at Steve’s expense, and decided nope, definitely not worth it.

Didn’t mean he had to stop grumbling about them being dicks anytime soon though.