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"Hey -- Hey! What are you doing?" Steve calls out, feeling stupid and certain that the stress of studying for finals has finally driven him to seeing ghouls in the shadows at the feet of the statue of John Harvard--
Then the shadow jerks and starts running, and before Steve can even think about he drops his books and gives chase, following the shorter figure through quad. This time of year there's always some punk from one of the /other/ colleges trying to make a name for themselves --
He pities the kid -- almost -- as he quickly overtakes them, tackling the faceless assailant to the ground. The prankster obviously hadn't planned for the running back for the Crimson to be in the quad this late.
The kid drops like a sack of potatoes with a loud grunt as they both hit the ground. He's got to give the kid credit as he struggles valiantly against Steve's grip, he sure can take a hit.
He eventually manages to pin the kid's hands down, and the street lights catch the distinctive flash of a gold ring on his finger.
"You're a little far from home, brass rat," He snarls, trying to make it as intimidating as possible.
"Let me go! C'mon! It was just a bit of fun -- Christ, I knew you Harvard guys were humorless pricks --" The other boy grumbles as Steve rolls him onto his back.
In the dim fluorescent light he sees an impossibly young face and bright blue eyes that almost have an eerie glow.
"Tech must have lowered it's standards if they're accepting twelve-year-olds," He teases, standing up and hauling the smaller boy up by the front of his sweater, and confiscating the backpack around the intruder's shoulder in the process.
"I'm eighteen AND a senior, fuck you very much," The other kid snaps with a scowl.
Steve raises his eyebrows at that, but doesn't say anything. It's certainly possible after all. He's seen the occasional baby genius that he's seen on the campus, impossibly young kids sitting in the back of the class, killing the grade curve -- but always alone. He'd always felt a little sorry for them -- that they couldn't have normal childhoods like the rest of them had --
"Where are your buddies?"
Here the other kid looks flustered, his cheeks heating and he manages to pick out of the incoherent grumbling the words "Rhodey" and "finals".
"Speaking of finals, let's see what was so much more important to you than studying," Steve adjusts his grip on the kid, holding tight to his upper arm, then fumbles about to open the backpack and reach inside.
He pulls out a perfect replica of John Harvard's face... normally MIT's pranks are little more obvious than this -- like the year they put him in a leg cast after the Crimson lost The Game or when they dressed him up as the Unabomber.
"What's this supposed to do?"
"It's -- ugh, it's better if I show you," The kid grumbles, reaching into the backpack to pull out a remote, which he glumly presses.
The statue's face comes to life in Steve's hand, lips moving as he belts out in a loud voice with a thick Massachusetts accent that surely be heard across the campus:
"MIT was MIT when Harvard was a pup,
And MIT will be MIT when Harvard's time is up,
And any Harvard son of a bitch who thinks he's in our class,
Can pucker up his rosy lips and kiss our Beaver ass!"
"I was going to program the /whole/ song, but I ran out of time," The kid says glumly.
Steve raises his eyebrow, but says nothing as he drops the mask back in the bag, and adds the remote to it, before he slings the sack over his shoulder. He certainly doesn't mention how impressed he is at how lifelike the mask's lips are as they move -- or how it's pretty much a perfect copy of John Harvard's face, likely good enough not to be spotted.
"So what was the plan?"
The kid looks at him balefully for a long moment, before sighing. "I was going to set him off before you guys started finals started tomorrow." Steve must have looked skeptical, because the kid rolls his eyes. "I wasn't going to screw up your guys exams -- second rule of hacking is don't interfere with learning."
"Uh huh -- and what's the first rule of hacking?"
"First do no harm? Look -- it's just a dumb hack, it's not even that /good/ honestly..."
Steve would really hate to see what a 'good' hack is by this kid's standards... It probably involves putting something on one of the roofs.
"Good thing I was here then to stop you..."
"Lucky for you I slipped on that damp part of the statue," The kid grumbles and Steve nearly chokes -- poor kid obviously doesn't know what the rest of the school does to John Harvard after dark. "You got me, you got the hack, hurrah, Harvard's honor is saved -- can I go now," the way the kid peeps up at him through a fringe of wavy brown hair could almost be seductive.
"Nope," Steve says instead, trying to get his mind off the kid's full lips as he starts frog marching him down the sidewalk. "Next stop is to go see Sgt. Fury."
"Cambridge Police!? Are you /serious/?!?!" The kid struggles in his grip, but Steve's bigger and older, and really he hasn't got a prayer. "Argh! I hate this fucking place -- I didn't even /do/ anything!"
"I think I can demonstrate that you intended to deface school property," Steve replies, pointedly jostling the bag on his shoulder.
"Shit, /please/, man, I'm begging you -- Fury hates my fucking guts, he's going to make my life a /nightmare/ -- just let me go, I promise I won't come back--"
"You should have thought about that earlier, shouldn't you?" Steve replies, keeping the walk up at quick clip.
The kid lets out a frustrated groan and Steve savors it just a bit -- He doesn't intend to rat the kid off to Fury, even though he should, because Harvard did have a sense of humor -- even if the kid can't quite see it yet.
He comes to an abrupt stop as the kid digs their heels in.
"Is there anything I can give -- Engineer's secrets withheld -- that can get you to change your mind," The kid's voice has lost all of his bravado, and Steve is starting to feel bad about what he's doing –
"Nope." -- but obviously not bad enough.
He steps in closer to the kid, trying to get a better grip on his arm that won't kill Steve's wrist and hopefully won't give the kid too bad of a bruise the next day. It's his first mistake.
The kid throws his other arm around Steve's neck and he tenses for an attack, only for warm lips to mash onto his eagerly. Steve's so surprised that the kid /kissed/ him that he opens his mouth, and that is second, and last mistake, as the kid dives in for the kill, nimble tongue teasing the bow of his upper lip with gentle brushes, the heat of his body pressed to his, the deep throaty moans that vibrate into his mouth. He hasn't been kissed like this since Bucky -- since before Steve went north while Bucky was staying at Queens and Bucky had kissed him goodbye forever.
It's all most too much -- the moaning, the tongue, the way the kid's body pressing up into his -- it's too much, there hasn't been anyone since sophomore year when Bucky broke up with him -- this, whatever this is that they're doing -- seems like some dirty fantasy out of a porn flick.
Then there's nothing but cold night, and the kid's whoops of laughter as he bolts away.
Steve should have known better, really. He's sure the little punk will go back to his dorm giggling to his friends about how he tricked a Crimson football player into letting him go because Steve had liked it so much.
Maybe he should start listening to Sam and Peggy and just get laid already.
He starts making his way back to the quad to gather up his books (wouldn't want them to be ruined if some of Harvard's anointment splashed.
"Hey," The kid calls, a block away, out of breath, and without an ounce of shame to be shouting this late at night. "You're not a bad kisser!"
"...Thanks?" He replies, scooping up his books and shoving them on top of the mask in his recently acquired backpack.
"Meet me at the 10 smoot mark over on the Harvard bridge after finals and maybe we can do it again?"
That had Steve's interest -- could finals be over any sooner? Still, this could be another prank -- he'd be deep in MIT's territory by the bridge, his only choices would be to run through MIT or across the river and then try to take the long way around back to the Harvard campus. It was a risk.
"I don't even know you name!"
The boy cackled loudly for a moment, before replying, "I'm Tony and you?"
"Steve!"
"I'll see you then Steve," Tony cries out, before he runs back into the shadows, making a long journey that he certainly doesn't envy.
Steve just wishes that finals week would end already.