It didn't help that the dynamic duo of Bruce Banner and Tony Stark weren't in any of the rest of Steve's classes The time allotted to pass from class to class was the only highlight, where Steve could greet Natasha and Clint and maybe, if he was walking through the science hall, see Tony and Bruce.
The very last hour of the day, Steve regrettably swallowed hard and walked into the gymnasium, decked out in too-tight shorts and a t-shirt from some random university. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw both Natasha and Clint waiting eagerly to see him walk through the door.
"Alright, kids," the gym teacher boomed, "we have a new student. Everyone say hi to Mr. Steve Rogers."
There was a drone of mumbles from the majority of the class, and two clear whoops and hollers from Natasha and Clint.
"You're lucky, Rogers," the gym teacher said, making Steve flinch again, "today is one of those few days where you get to wander around and do whatever you feel like. We've got... let's see..." he started to count off on his fingers. "Dodgeball in the little gym over that way," he pointed to a door, "archery over on that side of the gym, the rock climbing wall is open, and then you can go out and jog on the track. Also got some weights in the weightlifting room if you're feeling strong."
Steve shook his head in a terse nod and ran over to greet Natasha and Clint.
"Looking good in those shorts, hot stuff," Natasha laughed, slapping Steve on the ass.
"Hey, easy, it's his first day," Clint responded, punching Steve on the arm. "C'mon, I'm going over to the archery station. You can watch or you can learn, but I think it's the best."
"Whatever," Natasha said as she started to walk toward the rock climbing wall, "I'll be over here doing something useful."
After she was out of earshot, Clint looked back at Natasha and mumbled to Steve, "She scales that wall like a spider on a web, I swear. It's ridiculous."
"So..." Steve started, trying to avoid an awkward conversation about Clint's girlfriend, "you said you wanted to show me your moves?"
"Oh yeah, here." Clint put his phone in Steve's hand and ran over to the most complicated looking bow available for archery. He donned a quiver of foam-tipped arrows, and looked at Steve with something of a craze in his eyes. "Come at me."
So, Steve tucked the phone into the single pocket on his shorts and closed his eyes, taking in a huge breath. He only had to channel a little bit of energy into his super soldier self. When he re-awoke, he was a raging fire. He lunged at Clint, who immediately rolled out his way, over about 10 feet, and skillfully launched an arrow right at Steve's head. In response, Steve grabbed the piece of fiberglass that was holding the bow and arrows Clint now had, holding it up like a shield.
"Hey, you two! Quit it! Bows and arrows are only for the targets!" The gym teacher shouted.
"You aren't going to grab a bow?" Clint was gasping for air, laughing at the same time.
Steve shook his head. "You have no idea that I got training from the US Military, do you? I don't need a bow. I've got a shield," he held up his piece of fiberglass, "and raw strength."
"Huh," Clint breathed, sounding impressed. He turned, launching 5 arrows into the bullseye of the furthest target within thirty seconds, and nodded. "I guess it's time to go give Natasha some attention, yeah?"
Steve was just kind of staring off, realising how natural it felt to let out his inner soldier. It never felt that-good before...
Clint snapped his fingers in front of Steve's face. "Hey, captain drift-off, mind giving me the holder for this bow? Isn't exactly mine, y'know."
Steve laughed. "Yeah, sorry. Here you go." He gave Clint the fiberglass, and turned his head toward Natasha. "Holy-!"
"She's pretty impressive, huh?" Clint's face was smug as he watched Natasha scale the rock wall-it looked effortless, like she was just floating up the wall.
"She must have some practice," Steve guessed.
"I'm pretty sure she grew up in Russia-they have good mountain climbing there, right?" Clint sounded clueless, probably because he couldn't take his eyes off of Natasha's rising ass.
"Wait, she's Russian?" Steve asked, shocked. "I couldn't even tell if she had an accent! How does that work?"
"You're asking the wrong person," Clint responded, laughing, "I just fall in love with her every single time she speaks Russian fluently. I could care less if her English has an accent."
Soon, the class ended, and Steve headed home, his motorcycle, Bells, being his private escape from the crazy world he just launched himself into.
