#otp: thundershield

Maybe Steve shouldn’t have assumed that Italian trains would work like American trains.

  His friends had told him to beware that traveling through Italy using only trains was a bad idea, and that he was better off sticking to fast ones, but he had dismissed them and figured, how bad could it be? Surely they were exaggerating, and really, could they be so terrible? Never mind that when he looked at the options, trains were definitely the cheapest, and well, it’s not like he had the money to get here in the first place. The trip was a joint birthday/Christmas gift from Bucky, Natasha, Clint and Sam, who all knew that he’s always wanted to visit Italy and who could only put enough money together to buy him the tickets. During winter, because that was the cheapest window. And Steve had been ecstatic. But it meant that he had to cover for hotels, traveling and food expenses, and so since the trains were the cheapest, well, he figured he’d go with the trains. Never mind that winter in Italy couldn’t be as cold as in New York, so what were the odds of him catching something and falling sick in the middle of his trip?

  Yeah, he should have researched it better.

  Because while he had taken into account trains being late, and he had taken into account that taking the cheap option meant old trains that might break down more often than not, he hadn’t realized that some stations don’t have a waiting room.

  Never mind that being in the South doesn’t help – he should have thought ahead. He should kick himself in the head for assuming that being in Calabria meant that it couldn’t be cold in the winter.

  It’s damned snowing now, and his coat isn’t heavy enough for that even if it’s not New York-like snow – his heavy coat is in one of the suitcases he can’t drag around –, his train is two hours late, there’s no waiting room so he’s stuck on the track waiting for it to get there already and he feels like a stereotype through and through.

  He shudders, drawing his coat tighter around his shoulders, praying that he doesn’t catch a cold or worse because while at least he knows Italian hospitals wouldn’t charge him if he needed the ER, he doesn’t want to waste even his vacation in a damned hospital when he’s spent entirely too much time inside one back at home. As if when Bucky calls later he wants to answer ‘hey, I’m currently hospitalized in some place named Pedace and I’m pretty sure some of the nurses haven’t even seen an American person in their entire life’.

  “Forgive me if I am intruding, but – are you all right?”

  Steve jumps at the voice breaking his train of thought – wow, whoever that was, they certainly speak English excellently. He turns figuring that he’d compliment them, and then he realizes that the man standing next to him not only doesn’t look Italian at all, but –

  Well, wow. He’s tall, ridiculously so, with ridiculously broad shoulders, a mane of long blond hair that reaches his breast, two sharp blue eyes and he’s bundled in a heavy red coat, and Steve is sure that he flushes in spite of the heat, because when was the last time someone this attractive talked to him? Yeah. He can’t remember.

  “Uh. Well. Thanks for asking. I am, but – well. I might have underestimated the weather. If I didn’t want to look like your typical American joke of a tourist, I ain’t doing a bad job.”

  “Nonsense,” Tall and Handsome replies, “what people here call American jokes of tourists would  never consider using this train. And – well, let us say that the lack of waiting rooms in smaller stations is something you learn just by experience. Nonetheless, you look cold. May I?”

  And then the guy takes off his soft blue fleece scarf and surely is a lot warmer than the one Steve’s wearing (it’s a scarf he’s had since he was fifteen and served him well back in the day, but it’s completely worn out now) and hands it over as if he’s offering.

  “Oh – no, I couldn’t possibly – I mean, it’s cold even for you, right?”

  Tall and Handsome merely laughs, a deep, strong laugh that makes Steve want to say something else completely stupid so he might do that again.

  “I am from Iceland, my friend. I can assure you that this cold is nothing against what I am used to, and you look like you need this a lot more than I do. Also, I do believe we are taking the same train, so it’s not as if you could leave with it and never return it, right?”

  “Well. If you put it like that – I’ll take it. Thank you, uh – how do I call you? I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.”

  “Thor Odinson,” Tall and Handsome answers holding out a hand other than the scarf. Steve takes the scarf with his left and shakes Thor’s with his right and damn the guy has huge hands – his own feels engulfed for a moment. Also, he’s warm.

  Steve swallows and puts on the soft blue scarf, which is in fact a lot warmer than his own and makes him feel a lot better at once.

  Still, Thor doesn’t look that convinced.

  “Are you sure you still aren’t too cold?”

  Steve shrugs. “That’s okay. I’m from New York, this isn’t too bad. I tend to catch colds easily, but it’s no matter.”

  “The train isn’t coming for two hours at least, and it will be dark soon.”

  “Yeah, well. If all else fails, you can go to the hospital for free here, right?”

  “Right, but maybe we can avoid that.”

  “… How?”

  Thor grins and then looks at the bar on the other side of the platform.

  “Let me buy you coffee and you shall see.” And then he winks at Steve and oh God, is that flirting? Why would a guy who looks literally out of a Norse myth flirt with him?

  Still.

  “Fine. Show me your secrets,” Steve agrees, and follows Thor to the bar.

  “How would you like your coffee?” Thor asks before approaching the lonely and bored woman behind the counter.

  “Oh. I’ll have it like they take it here. Espresso, right?”

  Thor looks impressed. “Why, that definitely does not make you a stereotype, my friend.”

  Steve has to laugh at that. “Yeah, well, I always hated coffee back home, then I tried it here and I understood why. It always tasted like water.”

  Thor goes up to the cash register and orders espresso for both of them speaking in fluent Italian, and damn if Steve doesn’t feel hot and bothered for a moment – the guy’s English is flawless and his Italian looks pretty much on par, but damn if the Italian didn’t sound ten thousand times hotter.

  He needs to get a grip on himself.

  Steve accepts his coffee from the woman with a grazie that doesn’t sound nearly as flawless as Thor’s and drinks it without sugar – she looks a bit impressed at that, at least.

  And then Thor asks her something else, and she glances at Steve and then shrugs and shakes her head and then says no and then something else. Thor insists. She glances at Steve again.

  Then.

  “Solo per questa volta,” she sighs, and Steve didn’t get all of it but he’s pretty sure it’s something about something happening just one time? He did pick up some of the language in a month.

  “Right. Follow us,” Thor tells him, still looking entirely too happy, and Steve follows both him and the woman until –

  “Wait, is this the station manager’s office?” Steve whispers after she leaves them there.

  “It is,” Thor says, sounding very smug. “But he’s currently busy dealing with the fact that all the trains are late and I saw that he was sitting in the bar on the phone. With a lot of coffee in front of him. We can stay here until our train arrives.”

  “Wow. Thanks. Really, it’s –”

  “It was no problem. So, we have another… hour and a half at least. What brings you here?”

  Steve tells him about his friends in New York buying the tickets for him because he always dreamed of going to Italy, and Thor tells him that his friends must be really marvelous people, at which Steve has to agree because they are. Thor tells Steve that his father was a diplomat and that’s why he knows so many languages – and he comes back to Italy every year because it’s his favorite out of all the places they lived in, even with the crappy trains. And then he asks –

  “Where are you going?”

  “Uh, Naples,” Steve answers. “If we ever get there. Never mind that I had a coincidence in Cosenza but I think I’m gonna miss that one.”

  “Most probably you will not get there before tomorrow morning,” Thor agrees. “But that is a fortunate coincidence. I was heading to Naples as well.”

  “Really,” Steve says, and he knows he’s grinning, and he hopes he’s channeling his inner Bucky Barnes (or better, the part of his inner Bucky that is so good at charming women and ended up charming Natasha out of everyone) when he says, “so maybe you would show me around the place? Surely I’d be better off than trying to navigate it on my own.”

  At that, he could swear that Thor’s eyes glint with eagerness.

  “That would be my pleasure. Given that we get there in fashionable time.”

  “Well,” Steve says then, unable to keep himself from sounding very smug, and where did that come from? “Something tells me the trip won’t be boring.”

  Turns out that the bathroom in the station manager’s office is barely big enough to house the two of them, never mind that their train arrives in ten minutes so it’s not like they can do anything more than make out for a bit, and damn the fact that Thor managed to pick him up while pinning him against the wall was doing wonders for Steve’s mood.

  And the bathrooms on the train are barely enough for Thor to stand comfortably, but then it turns out that the heating system is broken and no one bats an eyelid when Thor very casually drags him against his side and shares his huge, heavy coat with him.