Work Text:
Music was blaring from the speakers and you belted along to the song as you moved around the room. You moved all your furniture aside and carefully placed a plastic cover on the floor, before grabbing the paint, brushes and paint rollers. You then stepped on a ladder and began sticking tape all along the wall, hoping to protect the ceiling and other walls from your attempts to bring some colour into your living room.
Moving to the beat, you removed the ladder from the room and opened the buckets of specially mixed paint. You had picked a pale celadon green and as the lid came off, the colour made you giddy. The prospect of adding some colour to your home brought a smile to your face. When you had first moved in, you had thought white on all walls was the way to go, but this week you had decided that this was no longer true for you. And so, on a whim, you had gone to the nearest store to find the right shade.
You’d never painted a wall before, your dad had usually been there to do that. But now, he was on vacation with your mother and you didn’t want to wait. You’d bought the paint, the brushes and rollers and you were ready to tackle this one yourself. How hard could it be?
If only you had known how wrong you were, you might not have started this endeavour in the first place. You would’ve waited for your parents to return home and ask them for help. Or at the very least, you would’ve gotten their advice.
It was safe to say that the outcome of the first layer wasn’t pretty at all. All the white had been removed thoroughly, sure. But it was hard to ignore the lines that the brushes and roller had created.
Slightly defeated you stared at the green wall, wondering if it would get better with a second layer. It certainly couldn’t get much worse, now could it?
Determined to fix this yourself, you sighed and dipped the roller back in the paint, unaware of the eyes that were on you.
Upon the first following interval between songs, someone cleared their throat behind you. You jumped in shock, dropping the roller on the plastic covered floor. There was a reason you had taken precautions, dropping the roller could’ve happened at any time.
You quickly turned around towards the sound and stared into the most handsome face you had ever seen. Of course you had seen this face before, but only ever in pictures or on tv. Never in real life. You hadn’t imagines that it would ever change. Famous people didn’t usually frequent your life. But he was really here, in your messy home. THE captain America.
His deep brown eyes held a twinkle to them as he regarded you in your paint covered overall and you smiled sheepishly, while you moved to turn down the music that was still blaring.
With the music brought back to a soft background noise, you could clearly hear the rumbling laughter flowing from the man before you. You weren’t certain how to respond. Though the question of why he was even here did rise, now the initial show of seeing an avenger had died down.
“Sorry,” he finally began to apologise as you kept staring at him, “I knocked, but you couldn’t hear me.”
“Right, the music. Sorry about that,” you offered, still a little on guard, “Can I help you?”
“Oh, I just moved in next door and thought I’d come introduce myself,” he smiled, suddenly shifting on his feet. He didn’t seem like an insecure person, though it could finally occur to him that he had entered your home without an invitation.
“So, you feel you still need introduction?” You joked, trying to break the tension in the room. He smiled at your words with a shrug.
There was certainly truth to your words. After captain Rogers had retired, the man before you had been bombarded with press and people wanting to know everything about him. The press had been surprised that he had been chosen to carry the shield and were determined to find out what made him perfect for it. You hadn’t really followed the outcome, simply assuming that captain Rogers had known what he was doing. The first avenger had not disappointed before.
“I shouldn’t have come in,” he offered after a moment of silence and you tried to smile at him, though not entirely sure that it was as accommodating as you wanted it to be.
The entire situation put you on edge. Not just because there was a stranger in your house. You also wondered why life seemed to make sure that whenever you met a handsome man, you looked your worst. Before starting your labour, you had decided to wear one of those one-size-fits-all overalls that would protect your clothes. Your hair had been pulled up in an unintentionally messy bun and there was no trace of make-up on your face. Your face was, however, covered in little droplets of paint. Not the most stunning look for you.
“It’s okay, I think, I was just painting,” you replied, pointing to the wall to strengthen your statement. As if it hadn’t been clear already.
“And singing,” the avenger joked and a blush quickly covered your cheeks. Singing wasn’t something you were particularly good at, though that rarely stopped you. Having him hear your butchered adaption of any song was a little humiliating. Not your best first impression and this was the man that would live next door to you.
“And that,” you grumbled with a nervous chuckle. He flashed you another smile and stepped forward, extending his hand for you to shake.
“It’s Sam, by the way,” he offered and you smiled, giving him your name as well.
His smile was dazzling and you decided that you wanted to lengthen his visit as much as you could. Offering him a cup of coffee, you also gave yourself a much needed break and Sam followed you to the kitchen.
What followed was an hour of conversation, touching on just about everything and nothing at all. Sam was easy to talk to and incredibly funny. You’d half expected him to be cocky, self-important and boasting, but he was none of that. Instead you found that it was comfortable, talking to him. He was kind, respectful and surprisingly empathic.
Of course the inevitable occurred when he carefully asked you if you were trying to created a criss-cross pattern on your wall and you could not help but laugh loudly. Explaining that it had been your first attempt at painting such a large surface, he laughed with you before offering his help.
Telling you that he had only just finished his own place and was still in the groove, he pressed that it would not be any trouble. Still you were reluctant to accept, but the man was very determined and he kept insisting. So finally you gave in and he immediately jump led up to get to work, ignoring your pleas for him to wear one of those overalls as well. You didn’t want him to ruin his outfit.
He smiled and shook his head, picking up the roller and putting a thick layer of paint to cover up your attempt. You tried to step in and help, but he shooed you away with one of his bright smiles.
Eventually you gave in and sat down on the floor, watching him work. It wasn’t necessarily a bad position to be in. He was very nice to look at. Very nice indeed.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Sam exclaimed happily as he stepped back from the wall a little while later, admiring his work. In a small amount of time he had applied a second layer of paint and fixed your mistakes. It looked wonderful, giving the room the exact feeling you had intended. Of course you still had to see how it dried up, but you were confident that it would be pretty.
“Okay, I’m not sure what I was doing wrong, but this looks great. Thank you!” You said, stepping up next to him with another cup of coffee.
He took the mug gratefully and sipped it quietly. He didn’t seem intend on telling you what you needed to change in the future. When you pressed him in this he chuckled and told you to ask him then. He winked after that and you thought you’d melt into a puddle right then and there. Red covered your cheeks once again and you giggled. Actually giggled. You wonder if that wasn’t something you were supposed to have left behind in high school, but the sound had already come out and you could not take it back. If you even wanted to.
“How can I thank you?” You wondered out loud, after your flipping stomach had settled again.
“Let me take you to dinner,” he said, another smile brighting the room and your heart skipped a beat.
“How does that work with me thanking you?” You chuckled.
“It would make me happy,” he shrugged, the never ending smile still on his features.
As confusion took over your features, he moved to the kitchen and washed his hands. He then grabbed his phone that he had discarded there earlier and you could see that he had received several messages. Apologising for running out, he explained that he really had to go.
You walked him to the door, not ready for the afternoon to end but uncertain how to prolong it. Words evaded you and you racked your brain for something, anything to say.
“How about that dinner?” He asked as he stepped into the hallway and you smiled back at him, nodding in agreement.
“You free tomorrow?” He pressed and his apparent intention to follow through on this made you blush again.
“Yes, I’d like that.” You finally said far too loud, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead asking you if seven was okay, before he finally reached into his apartment and grabbed his coat. As you nodded in agreement, he smiled brightly and quickly jogged towards the stairway.
And as he disappeared from your line of sight you could only think to yourself that this had turned out to be a really good day. To think, he asked you out based on your current look. What would he think of you all dolled up?