The Super-Soldier's Engineer | Steve Rogers x OC

016 | Hair Troubles

"You guys, I need help," Steve called from the main bathroom of the boys' shared apartment as he fiddled with his uncooperative hair.

Bucky and Sam poked their heads into the room almost immediately, as if they'd been waiting for their moment to pounce. "What's up?" Sam questioned casually, leaning against the door frame as Bucky stepped into the room.

"My hair's not cooperating," a nervous Steve muttered as he ran a shaking comb through it once again, his cheeks flushing a quiet red as his blonde locks flopped about.

"Well how're you styling it?" Sam questioned, glancing between Bucky and Steve. Steve just shrugged as he looked to the two of them in the mirror, his bottom lip jutting out into a small pout as he rested his shaky hands on the counter top.

"I think you should just slick it back," Bucky shrugged, patting Steve's back as he stepped over to the counter, taking out a tub of wax.

"But girls like it messy," Sam protested, narrowing his eyes at Bucky as he stepped onto Steve's other side, messing up his hair.

"I know, Sam. But he's going out for jazz, not the cinema, you've gotta be classy," Bucky sighed, resting his hands on his hips. Steve just glanced between the two, an amused smile creeping across his lips as he listened.

"Yeah, but he can't be looking like a greaseball either," Sam sassed, mirroring Bucky's stance and raising his brows at him.

"Should we call Nat up?" Steve suggested.

"No," both Sam and Bucky disagreed in unison before Sam spoke up, "She'll be busy with Bonnie."

"Right," Steve nodded thoughtfully before taking a deep breath, picking up his comb again and creating a side part, brushing his hair to either side of it. Bucky smiled and handed Steve the wax, of which he took and tamed his hair.

"Man, you've gotta zhoosh it. Get some volume going," Sam sighed, carefully fluffing Steve's hair before pulling a little piece out to frame his face, "There, see."

Steve laughed as he scrunched his nose up, looking over his neat but messy, slicked but zhooshed hair, "I guess that's better."

"Man, she's gonna love it. Now go get dressed. We've gotta see the fit," Sam demanded as he ushered Steve out of the bathroom.

Moments later, Steve stepped out of his room in Sam and Bucky's carefully curated outfit, a nervous smile playing on his lips as he fiddled with the leather jacket, "I don't know if it's smart enough."

"Man, you look great. It's dressy, which is why we added the jacket to tone it down a bit," Sam explained, making various gestures to his outfit as he spoke, beaming at Steve.

"You look like a million bucks, Steve. Don't worry about it," Bucky chuckled, shaking his head slightly at Sam.

Downstairs, Nat and I's prep was flowing much smoother. The dress, of which we'd left a generous tip on in apology for the shop, was hung neatly on the heated towel rail, keeping it wrinkle free as Nat sparingly sprayed hairspray over my hair, the windows open wide just in case. My hair was pulled neatly up into large rollers as I went through my jewellery, attempting to find the perfect necklace.

"Hey, that ones pretty," Nat spoke as she placed the hairspray can on the vanity, watching the necklace over my shoulder as she smiled.

"Yeah," I smiled, running my fingers over the small gold turtle, it's shell embossed with paua shells.

I angled it in the light, captivated by the shifting colours of blue and green. I'd seen that gorgeous bluey green somewhere before, only I couldn't put my finger on it. The stark royal blue tainted by flecks of teal and turquoise shimmered in the light until it hit me. Steve's gorgeous eyes captured the colours of the shells perfectly. Those same eyes that were filled with concern merely hours earlier. Those same eyes that met my gaze across the clothes shop in disarray.
Across the shop filled with scattered agents and soldiers. The same shop filled with shattered glass. The shop who's cashier we'd traumatised.