tumblr: ourpeachskies
QOTD: Who else thinks that divide by Ed Sheeran is a fucking masterpiece!!!
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"Sssh, guys it's happening."
Right when you look up, a tall figure stops running and pulls off his shirt, revealing a body Michelangelo's David would have envied. The sunshine and sweat add a shiny gleam to the ridges of his pectoral and abdominal muscles, making him look like a fallen god from the skies of Olympus.
That is, if fallen gods wore tight gray running shirts and track pants.
"And there it is," Wanda breaths, her already-large eyes widening. She and Nat start a slow clap, the latter adding in a couple of whistles.
"I can't tell believe you dragged me out of bed at six in the morning on a Wednesday to watch someone take off his shirt," you sigh as you tiredly rub your eyes. You look around - there's no one at the track but three of you and the hottie with the abs.
"You can grumble all you want, (Y/N), but you have to admit this is hell of a view," Nat grins. Her steely gaze turns pensive and she muses, "You think those abs are completely gym-manufactured or made through sports?"
"It's got to be both. That," Wanda moves her hand in the direction of the abs in question, "is too incredible and has to be a result of magic."
"It's too early for this," you sigh. But Nat is right, those abs are rather glorious, and you can't help blush as you watch the athlete's chest rise and fall as he catches his breath.
Right then the half-naked person of their discussion squints their way, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. While you're too slow to react, Wanda immediately drops her eyes to the phone while Nat casually blows a bubble with her gum.
His eyes stop on you, and his lips turn up into cheekily smile. He first waves before sending you a two-finger salute. Something in your brain clicks as soon as he salutes, and you gasp, "Holy motherfu -"
"Swear jar!"
You hold out your index finger in Wanda's direction. "Nope, I didn't say the entire word!" you exclaim.
Nat keenly stares at you, her fingertips drumming the side of her leg. "Do you know this guy?" she asks.
"That's my friend who's been helping me study for my History of World War II class."
"That's Steve Rogers?" Wanda incredulously asks, her jaw slightly dropping. "That's the guy you've been meeting up with three times a week for this past semester? The sweetest guy you've ever met has a body like that? No wonder you think you might have a crush on him."
"No! I mean, yes, but -"
"(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you little minx." A sly smile perks up on Nat's lips and the redhead strikes a saucy pose. "You didn't tell us that all this time, you've been meeting up with this bonafide hottie with an ass that won't quit."
"Swear jar!" you loudly accuse.
Nat glances at Wanda. "Swear jar commissioner?" she asks.
"Pass, because it's true," Wanda nonchalantly shrugs. She giggles at your miffed expression and nods her heads towards Steve. "Look, his butt is like a perfect peach," she observes before turning to you. "How did you not know about this incredible body of his?"
"He always wears sweaters that cover up... that," you gesture at your study buddy's incredible shoulder-to-waist ratio. Besides, you have a crush on him because of he's such a gentleman; he's a ridiculous flirt with you during your study sessions, but everything he says and does has the foundation of chivalry and integrity. Looks were never important to you, but you, too, begin to blush as Steve's sex god body slowly infiltrates your mind.
"Oh, he's waving at you again."
You look up from your shoes, and sure enough Steve is waving at you, beckoning you to come over. You shrug at your girlfriends and make your way over to him, well aware of Nat's hawk-like eyes boring into your back.
"Hey Steve," you awkwardly greet, holding up your hand. Your mind goes blank as you realize how close you are to his perfectly sculpted chest. His pectorals are much more majestic up-close.
"Thank you for sending me the notes for last week's class. If you ever need a favor, you know who to ask," Steve kindly thanks, a sunny and eager look reflecting in his eyes.
"Mmhm, don't worry about it," you say, not realizing how distracted your tone is. Your eyes unconsciously drop from Steve's blue eyes and wander down.
"I was wondering if you have time tomorrow to review for the upcoming test," he asks. "I know it's a Thursday night, but..." Steve pauses when he realizes that your eyes have lowered and are ogling at his naked torso. "(Y/N)?" he calls out.
"Mmhph," you numbly utter, still taking in the glory of Steve's abs. How is it humanly possible for abs like this to exist? Your hand unconsciously reaches out to touch, but you catch yourself before your hand makes contact with his bare skin.
"(Y/N)?" Steve stifles his laughter and taps your shoulder, snapping you out of your trance-like state. "Hey, eyes up here," he pokes, pointing to his baby-blues.
Your face immediately burns red, and you wish you could dig a hole in the middle of the track and bury yourself in it. "Yeah, mmhmm," you offhandedly mutter, forcing yourself to look up into his eyes. "You were saying?"
"Tomorrow night? Reviewing for history?" he repeats, a teasing mixture of a smirk and smile taking over the tall blonde's face.
"Right. History. Yes," you choppily respond, growing more flustered as your peripheral vision catches the subtle movement of his abs. Was he flexing on purpose or was that natural? "Thursday night, history - Wait! I'll actually be in the art studio from 1pm. Come to Quill Hall around seven. We can review there."
"See you then." Steve flashes you a grin before turning away, giving you another free chance to stare at his physique.
Once Steve leaves the track, you spin around to glance at your friends, still dazed from what just happened. Wanda starts to slow-clap again while Nat smirks, a devilish glint in her eyes.
Oh, you're so screwed.
- - -
"Done!"
You throw your arms up in celebration and take in the large acrylic painting you just completed. Music blasts through your speakers, complementing your ecstatic mood.
Doing a little shimmy, you use your paintbrush to twist your hair into a bun. Gleeful, you spin around in happiness, only to freeze when you notice Steve watching you in amusement and wonder. "When did you get here?" you inquire.
"Right about here." Steve starts to imitate your shimmy, his hips sinfully swaying back and forth. He gyrates his body and loses himself in the music whilst making the goofiest facial expressions. He clutches his chest and throws his head back in laughter as you cover your face in embarrassment. "Hey, it's cute," he comments, lightly poking your arm.
"I'm going to wash my hands. Make yourself home, I booked the studio until midnight," you say before you scamper off. In the restroom, you splash water onto your cheeks, hoping the pink on your cheeks will settle down.
Ready to focus on history again, you return to the studio, only to freeze in your tracks. Steve's in the middle of taking off his hoodie, and he's accidentally pulled up his white t-shirt as well. As a result, his glorious chest and abs are on display again.
Your breath gets caught in your throat again and you don't realize Steve catches you blatantly staring again.
"(Y/N), eyes up here," he clucks, pointing to his eyes again. When you don't answer, Steve throws up an X over his chest with his muscular arms and grabs his shoulders, effectively blocking his pecs and abs.
"Wuh? Wait! I wasn't staring," you defend, fervently waving your hands in protest.
"Keep looking at me like that, and I'll think you're only keeping me around for my body," the blonde teases. "At least buy me dinner before you stare at me like that!" Steve teases. He drops his arms, only to hoot in laughter when you jaw involuntarily drops again. "Eyes up here!"
"It's not my fault you keep flashing your abs in front of me!" you accuse as you pull out the paintbrush intertwined in your hair and incriminatingly point at at his midsection. "Who even has muscles like that? That's just rude!" you declare as you continue to swipe your paintbrush around like a wizard attempting to conjure a spell.
"This is only the second time!" the blonde argues, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
"Rude!" you yell again, lightly whacking his thigh with the brush. A defeated yet amused sigh escapes you as Steve goes into another chest-clutching and shoulder-shaking laugh.
"It's just my stomach, (Y/N)," he nonchalantly shrugs.
"Well, you don't see me flashing my boobs at you, do ya?"
Steve stops from opening his backpack with a pondering look. "Huh, true." Suddenly the corners of his mouth turn up to match the deviously devilish glint in his eyes. "Though, I wouldn't -"
You hold up the paint brush, eyebrow arched and daring him to continue. "Really, Rogers?" you interrupt.
The blonde innocently shrugs as he sits on one of the drawing desks, flipping open his textbook. "Worth a try," he winks. "And besides, we're friends."
"Friends flash each other's abs and boobs at each other?"
"Probably not," Steve chuckles. "But I have to admit, I kind of like it when you get all flustered."
"No, it's embarrassing."
"No, it's cute."
You frown and crinkle your nose. "I look like a spaced-out lobster."
Steve crosses his arm with a steely determination on his face. "I like lobsters," he staunchly retorts.
Confused about how you're supposed to respond, you furrow your brow and rapidly blink at him. Steve also visibly processes his words, and pretty soon both of you are laughing your heads off at the ridiculousness of his sentence - him clutching his chest again while you face-palm yourself in laughter.
"Okay, come on. Let's start reviewing. We have a test, and Professor Carter isn't going easy on us this time," Steve encourages. "Also..." He leans dangerously close to you with a playful glint in his eyes. "If we kick ass on this review session, maybe I'll let you touch my abs," he winks.
"Oh God, please stop."
"Eyes up here, babe. Eyes up here."