Take It Slow [Sebastian Stan - M/M]

Simon

The early sun shone gently on a chilly New York morning.
The street was silent as the sun rose, save for the rustling of litter in the wind and maybe a bird call or two.
On this street was a grand hotel.

Twenty floors high and snow-white as the clouds above, the hotel stood tall and proud in the middle of the street, towering over the smaller buildings and businesses who neighboured it.

And there, on a 15th floor windowsill of the grand hotel, sat a pigeon.

For the sake of this chapter, we'll call this pigeon Simon.

Now, Simon was a calm bird. He'd seen his fair share of city life, and he'd raised an egg or two as well. He felt as though he'd seen it all in this colossal playground of steel and concrete, and he hadn't been surprised in a good long while.

Which was why what happened next stayed with him for the rest of his life.

In all his months of being alive, Simon had never heard a more unearthly sound than the terrible bellow he heard from the window behind him.

A monstrous cacophony of a thousand crashing cars and a hundred yowling cats, he lost count of the amount of feathers he'd lost from the fright.

And so, Simon took off, never daring to glance back or even consider what could possibly make such a terrible and fearsome sound as that.

"JAMES EDWARDS, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN BED WITH SEBASTIAN STAN?!"

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A/N: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)