College!AU
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Steve walked through the darkened hallways, hoping to God he wasn’t going to get killed and stuffed into a broom closet, and wondered silently to himself why the heavy engineering building was...so scary. The art building had basements. Hell, they were used for the sculpture classes, both ceramic and metal, and they didn’t appear so...gloomy and menacing. For Gods sake, it was a Tuesday morning, Steve should not be getting ‘you might get killed and won’t make classes for the rest of the week’-vibes from a school building.
Having followed the directions Carol had scribbled on the back of an old exam (‘Go in the back door that’s propped open with a brick, down the stairs without the handrail (there are three, ignore the others, do not go upstairs!), then just follow the loudest noise’), Steve really felt like he was walking into one of those B-list horror films Bucky kept making him watch. They watched it for the costuming and making fun of the effects for the stagecraft class given in the Spring, but the effects that seemed so cheesy on the television seemed unnervingly real here in the basement. Coupled with the banging that echoed off of walls that would look better suited to a correctional institution, Steve was not feeling very hopeful about exiting the building. Or at least exiting the building without screaming and with all his limbs.
The hammering became louder as he moved down the hallway, overlapped with music that was somehow loud enough to compete with it, so Steve assumed that he was getting closer. To death or the help that he so sorely needed, he wasn’t quite sure. Maybe he should have told Sam that he was traveling into uncharted territory and to put together a search party to find him if he didn’t come back in time to turn his sculpture in the kiln in two hours.
He really should have gotten a coffee from the Union before he came down here.
Steve’s footsteps quickened when he noticed the open door that was brightly lit in closer to the other end of the hall. Finally, he could pop in, ask his question, hopefully get a good answer, and then return back to the Art Building to get to his intro painting class. Hopefully with time to spare so he could check in on Bucky and make sure he didn’t kill the freshman from the class before.
He entered the doorway of the only open room in the hallway, everything else was locked with a card key, and sighed in relief when he saw someone welding among the scraps of metal, a welding curtain and protective leather hiding most of the body’s motions except for the blatant bobbing of a head to the music’s beat. This was why he came so far, across campus, to find someone who could help him figure out exactly what it was his student's kept pestering him about. Maybe he could convince the other instructor to give a joint presentation during his wood/metal/construction sculpture class after he helped him?
“Dr. Stark?” Steve said loudly into the cavernous room, trying not to startle the man who was being showered in sparks as the arc of the weld burned brightly against a delicately curved piece of steel. “Dr. Stark, I was hoping to ask you,” he stopped to sigh, aware that this might not even be the professor he was looking for. Moving deeper into the workshop, Steve couldn’t help but stare at the small collection of robots whirling in circles on top of a desk, corralled by a couple of pens that had been rubber-banded together. He gently prodded one of the robots that seemed a little more advanced that was attempting to crawl over the barricade, biting his lip to hide his laugh when it grunted at him after it fell over.
After making sure the robot revolution was contained, Steve had added a second barrier in the ways of scattered tacks on the other side of the pen-walls, he walked closer to the person who was still welding. Steve hoped it was Dr. Stark, the newest professor to join the university. Rumored to have over seven PhD's in multiple fields, ranging from chemistry to materials engineering to electrical engineering to underwater basket weaving, Dr. Stark was sure to be the only person on campus who could help Steve with the mechanical problem he was having with his student's request.
He just needed to get the man’s attention.
Walking up the the orange-tinted screen that protected the area from debris and harming un-shielded eyes, Steve stood in the blaring music until the head jerked up suddenly. The arc from the weld abruptly shut off with a pop and the music quickly did the same with an invisible-to-Steve cue.
“Dr. Stark? My name is Steve Rogers, I was hoping-”
“What?”
Steve was expecting an older man, possibly with a receding hairline, a protruding belly, and grim features to match the rest of the engineering professors he had passed in the dining hall, or seen exalted on the university’s website.
So he was surprised when the welding helmet visor flipped up to reveal an unwrinkled face with soot smeared across one cheek and eyes glowing with the fever of someone who had drank way too much coffee on an empty stomach. He was baffled for a moment as the young man stared at him in confusion, taking in his appearance obviously from the way his eyes darted around before pushing back one of the screens and walking out of the welding area.
When he didn’t say anything, Steve stepped closer, mouth open prepared to repeat his opening piece only to be cut off by-
“Add/Drop was two days ago.”
“Wait, what? I mean, yes, I know that, but-”
“I can’t sign permission slips for late class registration. You’d have to talk to the department head to get into the ‘Robots, AI, and Advancement’-lecture.” A hand was shoved under an armpit to remove the heavy leather glove while the man brushed past Steve, who was suddenly uncertain if this was the man he was supposed to be talking to. Certainly Dr. Stark had to be more distinguished, sitting behind a desk or supervising graduate students in a lab instead of toiling in the basement creating a metallic Frankenstein’s monster.
“You are Dr. Stark, right?” Steve asked dubiously, picking up the other glove that had fallen on the ground and placing it on a small sliver of open counter top nearby.
The other man paused in removing the scorch-marked jacket, which gaped open to reveal a dirty wife beater under a pair of leather overalls, and frowned over at Steve. “Who wants to know? Is it Pepper? Shit, I was so sure I submitted the course schedule for next semester. She can’t get on my case, I had Parker look it over in exchange for me marking up his thesis, I swear-” The helmet was jerked off and placed on top of a stack of textbooks, a dirty hand running through sweaty hair that was starting to curl from the dampness.
“No, no, I’m Steve Rogers. I work in the art department. I wasn’t sure that you were Dr. Stark since Carol-”
“First off, call me Tony. Nobody calls me Dr. Stark, not even my students. Second, you look like you could be one of my students,” Tony squinted at Steve, closing one of his eyes as if it made his vision sharper, “Except buff, and not as pale, or Chinese. All right, forget that, not one of my students, you look like one of those contracted student athletes that come in for the football team that I'm sure Thor imports illegally. Lastly, why didn’t you mention Carol in the first place!”
Steve shrugged, his artist’s eyes instinctively drawn to sinewy muscles that were revealed as Tony shucked off the rest of his protective equipment, stepping out of heavy boots and his pants to reveal a pair of tight dark jeans and white socks covering bare feet. “Carol said I should come see you to see if you could help me with a problem I’ve been having.”
Tony sat down on a nearby chair, pulling a pair of neon-blue converses closer from underneath the desk, and snuck a side glance at Steve who had wandered closer once all the leather had disappeared. “Shit, she knows how to get me. I love problems, thrive off them, but why didn’t you just email? Would have been faster instead of walking all the way across campus.”
Steve smiled a the man who was frowning down at the shoe that wasn’t going on correctly, remembering the way the engineering dean had laughed the afternoon before while explaining. “Carol told me I would have a better chance bribing you with coffee. But since it’s almost noon, and I know afternoon classes don’t start until one-twenty...do you want to grab lunch and I’ll tell you more about my problem?
Tony grinned, tightening his shoelaces and giving a slap to his pants to get rid of any metal slivers, “I’m probably blowing off my department’s weekly meeting, but it’ll be worth it if we can get a burrito from the SAC.”
“You’ll like it,” Steve started to explain, following Tony as the other professor turned off the lights and led the way down the hallway that didn’t seem so creepy, “It involves multiple type of materials, making it all stick together without falling apart, and then making it mobile.”
“So, you’re building a smart robot that can paint or something artsy?”
Steve laughed as they exited into the sunlight, already knowing this was going to be a great cross-department partnership, “No, no. My advanced sculpture class wants to make a twenty-foot tall ketchupbot that works.”
Tony seemed speechless before breaking into a wide grin, slapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder and frightening students who were passing, “I’m sure it has a deep meaning, probably commenting on the excess of society?”
“No idea. They just won't stop going on and on about it after they saw something similar at an exhibit in Brooklyn. I figure I let them build it, count it as 20% of their final, and then slam them with the actual final portfolio review when they start thinking they outsmarted me."
Tony’s barked laugh seeped into Steve’s bones, “My type of teacher. All right, I’ll see what I can do to help you after lunch. Your students will get all the ketchup they want.”
“I’ll make sure they start working on the giant hamburger ASAP.”
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