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Sam leads the way to the coffee shop, cutting cleanly through the throngs of people bustling along the sidewalk for their morning commutes. More than one stop to do double takes at Steve, and he just does his best to give polite, close lipped smiles as he continues to trail after Sam.
“It’s just around the corner,” Sam calls over his shoulder, picking up his pace. Steve doesn’t bother trying to respond, focusing on avoiding bumping into the crowds around him - a difficult task with his broad shoulders and overall large frame.
He spots the shop pretty easily, and is pleasantly surprised to find that it’s less busy than he’d expected. Sure, there’s still a line of people that can be seen through the sweeping, lightly tinted windows, but at least it’s not trailing out the entrance. Sam opens the door for him, making a grandeur gesture of welcome with a playful smirk. Steve rolls his eyes but goes in before him anyways. He’s hit with a wall of pleasant aromas, the scent of coffee and sweet pastries filtering through from the storefront. The array of dishes splayed out behind the glass register are mostly desert based - like muffins and brownies and cookies - but there are some breakfast sandwiches and bagels mixed in with the bunch. There are also several coffee machines behind the counter, all smooth, polished metal and gentle hissing as they pour out fresh brews. He inhales deeply, just taking a moment to appreciate the sense of comfort that envelops him in the welcoming shop.
There were even less people in line than he’d thought, probably just five or six, and Sam brushes past him to take a spot at the end, making a shooing gesture for Steve to go find a table.
Steve shrugs, smiling slightly as he meanders towards the less occupied right half of the seating area and taking a window booth next to a more centered table with a few students seated around it. He knows they’re still in school because of their backpacks strewn on the ground by their feet or hung over the backs of their chairs. That and the fact that they are definitely too young to be anything but high schoolers. Not that he’s one to talk, but he’d like to think of himself as an obvious exception to the whole ‘looks can be deceiving’ thing, at least in regards to age.
He didn’t bring his phone with him, mostly because he’d just been working out in the gym when Sam had appeared in front of him and more or less dragged him away out of the tower before he had the chance, insisting he tried this place out. ‘You just don’t wanna go out alone,’ Steve had teased good naturedly, receiving only a scowl and punch in the shoulder in response. The point, now, was that he didn’t have much else to do except watch the people rush around outside with a sense of purpose lost to him or look over at Sam’s progress towards the register (he was still only third in line).
“Our trip’s in, like, a week, dude,” someone whined. Steve glanced surreptitiously to his left, spotting the same group of kids sitting nearby. They were clearly engrossed in their own conversation, oblivious to their surroundings as they scrolled through their phones or, in one of their cases, scribbled hurriedly on what was likely soon to be due homework.
“Yeah, I know, I’ll get it signed soon,” the rushed kid answered placatingly. Something about him niggled at the back of Steve’s brain. He looked closer at him. The student was largely turned away from him, so Steve could only make out a partial profile - mostly just seeing his full head of slightly mussed up brown hair and his slim but built form hunched over his papers.
“That’s what you said last week,” the third occupant drawled, slouching in her seat and throwing her arm over the backrest. Her eyes flickered up from her phone, meeting Steve’s. He snapped his gaze away, internally groaning at having been caught so blatantly staring. He kept his ear on their conversation, though. He couldn't help it, really, his interest oddly spiked.
“Do you wanna see my notes?” the first guy asked. He had a friendly countenance, and was kind of Hawaiian looking. Steve plucked a straw from the little tray seated at the edge of the table, fiddling with the paper covering.
“I’m alright,” the brunette responded, scritching across his paper for several more moments before continuing. “Just one left.”
Steve chewed on his lip, ripping a small corner of the straw’s seal off. That voice.
He heard Sam’s steps making their way over, and he tilted his head up and over, giving a pointless little wave. Sam raised an eyebrow, arriving at the booth with his arms loaded with three large coffee cups and a couple of boxes of food. Steve grabbed two of the cups and set them down, Sam nodding appreciatively as he placed the rest of his bounty on the table as well. “I got a whole bunch, so go ahead and try whatever,” Sam said, plopping down heavily into the cushion on the opposite side.
“Thanks,” Steve replied, finally pulling the straw free from it’s wrapping and plunking it into one of the coffees on his side. Sam was already taking a large slurp of his steaming drink, flipping open one of the boxes with his other hand. It was filled with pastries, and, to Steve’s mouthwatering delight, there was even a small slice of what looked to be apple pie. He darted his hand over and snagged it, setting it on a napkin in front of him and grinning at Sam’s affronted expression. “You said to try whatever,” Steve defended lightly, grin widening.
Sam huffed, plucking a Danish out and taking a large bite from it. “Not the pie,” he countered petulantly, still chewing.
“I’ll have you know it’s my favorite,” Steve snootily replied, stabbing a fork into the pastry and almost reverently bringing it to his lips. “Mmmmmm,” he intoned, closing his eyes in an exaggerated expression of bliss. He barked out a laugh when Sam kicked him under the table.
The voices from the table over filtered back in. “What’re we gonna do in Venice?” the harried kid asked. Steve was dangerously close to naming him enigma in his mind, but for now he just gazed over at him through his peripheral.
Sam watched him curiously, tilting his head slightly. The girl replied in the same monotone pitch. “Protest.”
The brunette snorted, flicking a crumpled up napkin at her. “I said what are we doing, MJ. We all know what you’re gonna do,” he retorted with mock annoyance. Steve is almost positive that he doesn’t know any random kids, let alone any from Midtown, but he knows he’s heard that voice before. Maybe a child actor? He has been catching up on a lot of films.
Sam tilts his chin up at him and nods his head at the group. “What’s up?”
Steve shakes his head, sighing heavily. “Probably nothing,” he decides reluctantly, taking another bite of pie. Sam has already rounded off the rest of his dessert and is now peeling away the wrapper of a banana nut muffin.
Sam shrugs dubiously but moves on. “There’s another place I wanna take you over in Queens-”
He cuts off abruptly when Steve’s head snaps up to look him dead in the eyes, expression one of startled realization. “Queens,” he breathes, marveling.
Sam’s eyebrows lower a fraction, a faint crease forming between them. “You alright man?” he asks slowly.
Steve ignores him, standing hastily and whisking away to the table of three. The girl - MJ - raises a brow, keeping her eyes on him. The other two notice her focus and turn around. The big guy’s mouth drops open into an o, while the brunette has a deer caught in headlights expression glued to his face.
Steve centers a hard gaze on the last of them, and, in his most commanding voice, he demands, “Where are you from.”
“Queens!” the kid squeaks out automatically, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.
Steve’s glare morphs into a victorious grin, while the kid - Spider-Man - looks like he’s on the verge of passing out.
MJ cuts in smoothly. “While as much as I like watching you cause a scene” - she glances around the room with a lazy turn of her head - “you’re causing a scene.”
Steve only then notices that the rest of the shop’s occupants have turned to stare at them, though thankfully none of them have their phones out - yet. Steve coughs awkwardly, taking a seat on the free chair next to the girl. Most of the customers and staff return to their own business, only a few sparing fleeting glances at him. Sam hasn’t left the booth, but he watches on curiously as he takes a chomp out of his muffin. Steve’s not oblivious enough to realize that this probably isn’t the best place for an impromptu conversation, so he leans in slightly towards the kid, who leans back in response, letting out a shrill ‘eep.’
Steve struggles to withhold a blinding grin, instead putting on his best scolding face. “Tony and I are gonna have some words, and I expect you to be there,” he says lowly, raising his brows when the kid doesn’t immediately respond.
“Yes Mr. Cap-Rogers sir,” he stutters out, face flushing cherry red and expression a mixture of apprehension and something close to relief. Steve lets his grin take over, slapping a hand onto the kid’s shoulder.
“Sorry about the bridge,” he says, half serious and half trying not to laugh at the near constipated expression on the kid’s face. “And good job with the shield,” he finishes, squeezing the teen’s shoulder lightly.
The kid’s expression brightens, looking proud and only faintly embarrassed now. He extends a hand out to Steve, who drops his grip from his shoulder to take the offering, giving the kid’s hand a firm shake. “I’m Peter,” the young hero says, smiling widely. “Peter Parker.”
Steve grins back with equal strength. “Steve Rogers,” he introduces. “You can call me Steve.”
The kid’s - Peter’s - smile grows impossibly wider, and Steve lets out a chuckle as he stands back up. “I’ll see you later, Pete.”
He turns away from the kid’s vigorous nodding, MJ’s flat yet attentive look, and his other friend’s wide eyed awe, going back to the booth and collecting the boxes of still uneaten food and cups of undrank coffee. Sam is clearly waiting for an explanation, but Steve raises a finger in the universal sign for ‘wait,’ heading for the door.
As he makes his way out the café with Sam, he hears the kid trying to say some excuse to his girlfriend (?) MJ. She cuts him off, and Steve can hear amusement hidden behind her impassive tone. “Don’t even bother. If I didn’t suspect it before, then I sure as hell know now.”