They gaped at the man, eyes wide and mouths open in shock.
"Right now, they are all on a mission in Slovakia, and aren't expected back until tomorrow. You will be staying on the guest floor until then. Do you have parents that need contacted?" Fury's gaze was intimidating, even with a single pupil.
They both shook their heads in the negative.
Matthew had moved out of his abusive father's house the day he had turned eighteen, and Athena had moved in with him a few months later, away from her manipulative mother.
"Good. Now that we've gotten that covered, please follow Agent Hill to your floor."
They turned around and saw a tall, brunette woman standing there. She looked kind, but the gun holstered to her hip meant business.
They stood, and before Maria could push the floor they were needed on, Athena pushed the garage button.
"What?" She asked when the two others looked at her incredulously.
"I have clothes in my trunk for the both of us. I'm not sleeping in a pencil skirt." She mumbled, and Matthew sighed.
XxXxXxX
They reached floor 89, and Agent Hill bid them adieu. They each had their own rooms, but they both went into one, and sat on the couch in it. The single room was bigger than their two-bedroom flat by far. There was a kitchenette, with a sink, half-fridge, and counter, an ensuite bathroom, and a king-sized bed. The couch they were sitting on could hold three people easily, and there was a flat-screen TV attatched to the wall.
They both sat on the couch silently, in shock for at least an hour. Their friendship was one of comfort, platonic love, and mutual understanding. They both needed to think, they both respected the need for silence in these times, and the other knew that they were there for each other.
Athena got up and dug around in her backpack, grabbing her sleepclothes and changing, all modesty gone around her friend. Matthew did the same, yawning dramatically.
Athena, in a pair of thick, red pajama pants, and a black tank top, Matthew in a white wifebeater and black matching pants, made their way to the bed, crawling between the Egyptian cotton sheets and restlessly fell asleep, backs pressed against each other comfortably, though their minds were a mess of chaos.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
Matthew awoke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright, his chest heaving, and his eyes blown wide. He scrambled for his glasses, putting them on and looking at the clock on the bedside table.
4:36 am, it read, and everything came crashing in on him. He layed back softly, careful not to wake Athena.
He took a few deep breaths, before getting up and using the bathroom, promising himself to use that 5-headed shower the first chance he got.
He decided to snoop around, seeing as he was wide awake and his best friend was passed out.
He exited the room, and opened doors along the hall, meeting some open ones, some locked, but his blood started buzzing pleasantly when he opened one that seemed to be a mixture of a dance studio, and a practice room.
There was a grand piano in one corner, and an acoustic guitar next to it, along with a stereo with an auxiliary cord attached. He couldn't pass this up.
He sprinted back to the room they had fallen asleep in, and shook Athena awake, waiting for her to go through the same process he had gone through earlier.
"hhwhatchyawant?" She mumbled, before sitting up quickly, gasping.
She looked at him, questions clear in her emerald eyes. He nodded understandingly.
He dragged her to the room he had found, and she gasped in delight.
He plugged his phone into the port, and the first strings of Ed Sheeran's "Thinking Out Loud" started, and they were off.
The song was slow, sensual, made for long-limbed lovers, not a lanky, awkward gay boy and his short, chubby, female best friend in their pajamas.
But they made it work. Their bodies were smooth, working together like a well-oiled machine. The dance was complicated, but they knew it well. She did a beautiful flip across the room, and they had fun, they laughed and spun, grinning at each other in the loving way that only two friends who had shared hardships together could. The song ended, and they bowed to eachother, laughing softly.
Until they heard clapping from the doorway.
They turned quickly, guilty looks flashing across their faces, before it was replaced by shock.
There stood Steve Rogers, better known as the one and only Captain America, and his lesser known, but no less attractive, best friend James, 'Bucky', Barnes.
"Holy shit" they both whispered, gripping hands tightly.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
(Steve/Bucky POV)
Everyone had come back from the mission grumpy and full of pent-up adrenaline after the anticlimactic mission. It had been a bust, HYDRA was long gone from the base the Avengers had been tipped on, now the only thing there were rats and disappointment.
After they were debriefed, Fury told them about the two kids that were joining them, and they were all very interested in meeting them, but it could wait until the morning. Fury hadn't bothered to mention what floor they were on, and no one thought to ask.
Both Bucky and Steve knew that sleep would evade them that night, so they went up to the rarely-used training room on the 89th floor to spar, but when they got there, it was already in use.
They had gotten there just after the song had started, both watching in awe as the two in the room moved in perfect synchronization.
Although for other reasons, each man was focused on a different dancer.
Steve... On the supremely tall boy... No, man, twirling the tiny-in-comparison girl. His short yet extremely curly hair messy, and his glasses accentuating his strong, yet delicate cheekbones nicely. Their bodies shouldn't have worked well together whatsoever, he towered at least a foot over her, and both men gasped softly when she did a graceful flip, somehow never noticing the two of them.
Bucky was focused on the adorably small girl, with the waist-length copper hair that surrounded her in messy curls, and though she was small, seemed to have long, curving legs for days.
It was obvious they were a couple, with the intimate positions the routine put them in, and both of the men felt minor pains in their chests, over their hearts that they promptly pushed away.
When it was done, the men started to clap enthusiastically, which startled both dancers, and they whirl around, ashamed, before both of their mouths open into gasps of "holy SHIT."
'Holy shit indeed' thought each super-soldier.