marvel cinematic university: freshers assemble || mcu

2: Flat Meeting

"Kitchen now!" Nick paced Flat 2's corridor, banging on each and every door he came across, occupied or not. 

Each inhabitant poked their head out, all but Tony and Clint.

"What is it?" Bruce asked, eyeing the stranger nervously.

"Flat meeting. Kitchen now," Nick barked, walking past them and through the kitchen door. 

"Do I have to do Freshers' Week again?" Steve said, grumpily. "I did Freshers' Week twenty-three years ago."

"Seems so," Bruce said, only for Tony then to make his appearance, coming out of his room with his phone pressed to his ear.

"No, no. I'll get something to eat before I go out. Yes, I put your dinners in the freezer. Yeah, I'll get someone to show me how to work the oven. Yeah, yeah. Alright, love you. Yeah, yeah. Okay, not now. Yes. No. I'll call you tomorrow... Bye, bye." 

"Your mother?" Bruce asked.

"No," Tony said, pocketing his phone. "My butler."

Natasha had at least fetched Clint and the two of them were already at the kitchen table, sat opposite a busy Nick. Whilst the others could only guess- and Tony had many guesses- what Budapest really meant, none of them were brave enough to push the topic any further. The two might have had matching tattoos and might have been sitting next to each other, but they were hardly draped over each other like most other couples they knew. Rather Clint was playing games on his phone and Natasha was eating a Pot Noodle. Hardly the image of love's young dream.

Finally, all six of the flat's residents were assembled, including the flat's latest member: an exchange student from somewhere in Scandinavia called Asgard, a handsome, muscular and incredibly tall History student with long blonde hair. 

"Thor Odinson," he introduced himself, shaking each of their hands. "I look forward to getting to know you all."

"What about the other two? Isn't there eight rooms in this flat?" Steve asked.

"The other two are set to arrive at a later date," Nick replied.

"Alright," Tony said, "sequel potential."

"Sorry to ask," Bruce piped up, "I was just wondering... but, who exactly are you?" He nodded to Nick, who was just then sticking a complex-looking mindmap to the kitchen's noticeboard.

"I'm your worst nightmare, Banner," he said, over his shoulder.

"2008 called," Tony piped up. "They want their hairstyle back."

The sniggers from around the table ended abruptly as Nick spun around and smacked his hands hard against the table's surface; his left eye still hidden beneath his black fringe.

"Something funny, Stark? Then you can go first. What does it say on the board?"

Tony squinted: "Top Flat of the Week? What the hell?"

"Not just any flat, but the flat. The flat of the block."

"There's only eight flats in the block," Natasha said. The other flatmates were startled to find her and Clint having switched seats without them noticing: she now playing on the phone and he now eating the remaining Pot Noodle. "Probability-wise, it's hardly that hard for us to win." 

Nick however would hear none of it.

"Upstairs, Phil Coulson has his freshers training on tequila. You don't seem to understand the importance of this." He slammed his fist again on the table. "Don't you want to make this week count?"