[ ugh, you cute turd. that smile does something to him that he thinks most people feel when he notices them. a deep kind of uneasy satisfaction, like a success that's about to be ripped from his hands if he's not careful. he flushes too, which is deeply embarrassing and annoying, cheeks red as he sinks down into his seat, gathering his legs to himself, sitting now nearly knees to chest. steve rogers rolling in acting hot as hell and here he is falling for it.
honestly, all he wants to do is feel like a lucky freshman and kiss the quarterback. ]
That so.
[ he says flatly, shooting him a sidelong suspicious look coupled with a restrained smile. he plucks a fry from the container tucked into his cup holder and reaches to plunk it right into steve's cup, hoping it ruins his milkshake a little. ]
no subject
honestly, all he wants to do is feel like a lucky freshman and kiss the quarterback. ]
That so.
[ he says flatly, shooting him a sidelong suspicious look coupled with a restrained smile. he plucks a fry from the container tucked into his cup holder and reaches to plunk it right into steve's cup, hoping it ruins his milkshake a little. ]
I think I'm great, actually. No trouble here.