marvel cinematic university: freshers assemble || mcu

5: Civil War

The Saturday of that particular week had dawned well enough or, at least, well enough before the cleaners had arrived and found the state Flat 2 had left their kitchen in.

"Flat meeting," Steve called, banging on each of the corridor's doors, all but for the two vacant ones at the end. "Kitchen now!"

Bleary-eyed, the flatmates each made their way to the kitchen; even Bruce, having spent the previous thirty hours asleep. 

"They're charging us how much?" Natasha said, aghast. The others only groaned as Steve repeated the figure.

"They left a list as well," Steve added, "of complaints and rule violations." He smacked the list down on the table. "Fire extinguishers empty; rubbish bin overflowing; mouldy food in the fridge; comatose, rude, and indecently-attired students sleeping in the shared areas-"

"In my defence," Tony said, from behind a large pair of sunglasses and a larger mug of black coffee, "I couldn't remember my room number." 

"Did you or did you not throw a bunch of fifties at the cleaning ladies?" Steve continued. 

"... I'd like to talk to my lawyer before I answer anything else..."

"My apologies, graduate," Thor said, also from behind a pair of sunglasses. "I was under the impression that I was already in my own room and so... undressed myself as I would in my own room."

"You- you were naked too?" Steve asked, looking back at the list. "They only complained about Tony."

Natasha and Clint sniggered at Tony's horrified expression, only to be silenced by a quick glare from Steve.

"This might be a joke to you," he said, "but in all my time in halls-" ("All twenty years of it," Tony muttered, bitterly.) "-I have not gained one cleaning violation, except for now." He slammed the list down onto the table. "In a week, this flat has accrued a hefty fine and the cleaners are refusing to touch this particular flat until a sincere apology is made and the fine is paid." 

"Shouldn't Nick be sorting this out?" Bruce said. "I mean, he is our rep and all." 

"Nick's currently staking out Flat 5," Natasha said, already her attention returning to her phone. "He'll be back for the grand finale of the contest tomorrow." 

"Let the old man have his moment," Tony piped up. "I mean, he does have a degree and a Master's in- what is it again? The role of peacekeeping. How's that thesis going again?"

Enraged, Steve slammed his fist against the table again.

"Shut your cake hole, Stark. Most of these violations were caused by you. Maybe you can put your father's money to some use for once, rather than wasting it on vodka and shots." 

"Not all of them," Tony retorted. "The fire extinguishers were from Thor and Natasha's desk chair race across the square. The food in the fridge is down to Barton. You yourself haven't touched your dishes since you moved in. The only one innocent here is Bruce," he added, clapping his closest friend hard on the shoulder.

"No, actually he's made the list too," Steve sighed. "After the caffeine binge, some complaints were made about noise disturbances, plus a plumber had to be called out twice." 

"It's worth it though," Tony continued. "We've proved the placebo effect actually works." A confused Bruce turned to his neighbour, but Tony hadn't finished speaking: "Let's all just throw in our share and then tidy this hellhole up together. I call dibs on not doing the washing up."

"Most of this mess and most of the violations come from last night! A night that, if I'm not mistaken, only you, Thor, Clint and Natasha went on. Bruce was asleep and I was here, clearing out the worst of it."

"Real good job you did of it too," Tony snapped back. "You only forgot to clean out the bins, the fridge, the sink... The whole kitchen really."

This was all starting to get a little too heated; or, at least, too heated for a bunch of sleepy, hungover students. 

"I agree with Tony," Natasha butted in. "I hate to say it, but let's just pay the damn thing and clean this out together."

"No way," Clint cried, turning on his friend. "Most of the fine is because of the fire extinguishers and I didn't even get a go-" He balked as Natasha turned her glare on him, but managed to hold his ground. "I agree with Steve. We each pay for what we're responsible for."

With an audible growl, Natasha grabbed her chair and shifted herself a good foot or two from Clint.

Thor snorted: "Trouble in paradise?"

"Don't start," she growled. "I still have beef with you for ratting us out to these idiots." Thor balked at that.

"Have I missed something?" said Bruce. "I mean, when I was asleep and all."

"How exactly can we pay for what we're responsible for?" Natasha continued, ignoring Bruce. "We all use the bins and the sink. And, even if we measured rubbish output, most of that bin is pizza boxes- Clint! Now, really?!" she added, as Clint stood up and went to the fridge for more pizza.

"What?" he said, turning around to find the others staring at him in open horror, still eating the pizza delivered a week previously. "I'm hungry."

"We won't settle this by arguing," Bruce interjected, just as Steve and Tony looked set to continue. "Let's put this to a vote and we'll follow however that goes." 

A murmur of agreement rose from the table, but even then the vote proved inconclusive.

"Three for paying a share," Bruce said, counting Thor, Tony and Natasha. "Three for paying what they themselves have caused," he added, gesturing to himself, Clint and Steve. 

"Stalemate," concluded Clint, mouth full of pizza.

"There's only one way to settle this," Natasha said, rising from the table with a sigh and going over to her cupboard. "A good old-fashioned drinking competition." She returned with a full large bottle of supermarket own-brand vodka and two shot glasses. "Each side picks their opponent from the other team.  Whoever lasts the longest wins." She added something in Russian: a drinking toast, as she poured out both the shots.

Both sides gathered at opposing sides of the table- wherever they could make room considering with all the rubbish. Team Steve chose Tony, much to the other side's uproar- Tony being still incredibly hungover from the night before. In retaliation, Tony picked Steve, having determined his age to be a potential weakness to exploit. 

The game went well enough for the first hour with shots continually being poured and knocked back and then refilled some more. But then, before even an hour had passed, both competitors began to falter.

"Is it me or is it getting hot in here?" Tony slurred, tugging at his t-shirt and having to be restrained by Thor. 

"I can't believe Peggy left me," Steve said, tearfully hunched over his shot glass. "Bucky too. Everyone leaves me."

"I- I won't leave you," Tony said, shakily stretching out to stroke Steve's face. "Shush-shush, there, there. I'm here for you,... friend... Dad always said- hic- he always said you were an- an emo- emosh- emotional... whatever you are." And with that, Tony slumped forward, knocking his shot glass aside, and began to snore loudly. 

Cheering loudly, Bruce and Clint swarmed Steve, leaving the other two to only groan and attempt to wake Tony up. 

"He's out cold," Natasha grumbled, checking each of Tony's pupils, before pushing his head back down onto the table. "I'll go and get my purse then." 

As she made her way back through the debris to her room, Clint caught up with her.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" he said, following her into her room. 

"Depends how much this extinguisher costs me," she retorted, grabbing her purse out of her bag and turning around to face him. 

"We're still... friends, right?"

She smiled, another one of her saucy, little smiles that could only mean trouble.

"Depends," she said, before wincing at his breath. "Definitely not if you keep eating that off pizza all the time."