Winter Break: Part Sixteen
Summary: Your brother, Sebastian Stan, is taking you for a little vacation and internship scouting with him on the set of Captain America: Civil War. On the trip, interesting friendships are made, and Spider-Man doesn’t stay your least favorite superhero.
Characters: Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Tom Holland, Scarlett Johansson, Chadwick Boseman, Robert Downey Jr., Paul Rudd, Daniel Bruhl, Don Cheadle, Elizabeth Olsen, Jeremy Renner, Paul Bettany, Emily VanCamp
A/N: we finally find out who Tom’s mystery girl is......this part was funny to write. enjoy (:
It’s cold when you land, and Damon’s jacket now officially smells of hotel rooms and airplanes rather than his cologne and laundry soap.
The taxi you’re in with Sebastian and Elizabeth is cramped, but the ride doesn’t last long and the new hotel the car pulls up to looks nothing like the first one in Germany. Being back on American soil made you wish it was the first days of break again.
You shiver as Sebastian hands you your suitcase, yawning.
“Here you go,” he says, giving you the stuffed black bag. You hold tightly onto it, wide awake since Scarlett had woken you up when the plane touched down, and wait for him to fish out your backpack.
“Hey guys,” Chris calls, walking over towards the taxi you were in. It felt like it was ten in the morning, but it was really just barely four am. “I got us our rooms but the clerk won’t give me your room keys until you all go in.”
“Thank you,” Scarlett says, picking up her bag from the taxi in front of yours. Elizabeth leans against you, awake as well, but you knew she was more bored than tired.
Your stomach suddenly turned in freezing anxiety when you remembered the rest of the cast and crew were staying here, which meant Tom was somewhere in the building. He had texted you back after you’d fallen asleep, asking to talk to you, and you had screenshot the message and sent it to Max, but considering the time, she hadn’t answered and you didn’t want to tell Elizabeth or Scar about Tom’s weird behavior in case they made a scene in front of Sebastian.
“You excited to see Tom?” Elizabeth asks into your shoulder.
“Yeah,” you reply, because that was the truth, up until he sent his last text.
“Good,” she chuckles. “We can finally tease you two again.”
You smile, because Sebastian is looking, and your zealously protective brother rolls his eyes.
“Let’s get inside,” he says, paying the cabbie and picking up his bags. You take your backpack from the pile he’d made, and Elizabeth grabs her own belongings, and the warmth of the hotel lobby engulfs you as you step inside.
Your heart jackhammers itself nearly out of its ribcage when you see Tom sitting in a chair a little bit to the left of the reception desk.
His headphones are in, and his chin is tucked against his chest, but the lobby clerk nudges him when Sebastian walks up to the desk, and blinks himself awake.
You tear your eyes away from him and look at Elizabeth.
“He told me he wants to talk to me,” you say quickly and quietly, hoping he hadn’t seen you yet.
Elizabeth’s brow furrows, and she takes you by the wrist, turning you away from the group. “What?”
“Last night, or this morning, or whatever,” you explain, “he texted me and told me he wants to talk to me when I landed.”
“A day ago, when we were filming for that one scene in Berlin, he’d called me, but practically hung up on me when some girl was talking to him in the background,” you tell her, and Elizabeth’s lips purse into understanding.
“Breaking whatever was going on between us off?” you fill in for her, “Yeah!”
You jump, and Elizabeth crosses her arms over her chest as you recover.
“Hey Holland,” she says, glaring at him.
He gives her a small smile. “I was wondering if I could talk to (Y/N)?”
“Isn’t it a little too early for you?” she questions.
“(Y/N),” Sebastian calls. “I’ve got your room key.”
“Thanks Seb,” you say, and go to retrieve it, but Tom catches your arm with his hand.
“Can we talk, before you go up?” he asks, glancing down at Damon’s jacket that he’s holding.
You spare a glance to Elizabeth, whose gaze looks about as hostile as it gets, but ignore the nerves bumbling around in your stomach with a nod of your head.
“Just let me get my key,” you say, and he lets go of you. Though his grip was gentle, it still alarmed you.
“Is everything okay?” Sebastian asks suspiciously when you reach him.
“Yeah,” you assure him. “Tom’s just tired and I’m just happy to be off the plane.”
Your brother gives you an unsure look, but nods as he hands you the room key.
“Are you staying down here?”
“Just for a bit,” you nod. “I’ll be up soon though.”
“Good,” Sebastian nods his head. “I don’t want you being alone with him.”
You roll your eyes, and Elizabeth comes up beside you.
“Come on, Sebastian Stan,” Elizabeth says, looping her arm through your brother’s, and giving you a nod of good luck when she has him distracted. “Let’s go hit every button in the elevator and piss Chris off.”
Sebastian chuckle, and you watch as your friend drags your brother away.
Tom, you discover, gets twitchy when he’s nervous.
You’ve only been sitting with him for a few minutes, having slipped Damon’s jacket off and found a place to recharge your phone. He stayed verbally silent the entire time, but his fingers tapped non-stop against the wooden table’s glossy finish and he’d occasionally stop to push his unkempt hair out of his face.
You decide to let him start since he’s the one that asked to talk.
“So,” he finally drawls, grasping his hands and pulling them into his lap.
“So,” you echo, and then sigh.
His demeanor reminded you of sitting with Chris moments before he came out to you as gay, and made himself throw up because of how nervous he’d been. The story was funnier now, since it was strung along into him telling Forest after and ending up needing to go to the hospital when their spastic friend dropped the mug he’d been holding. Not just Chris, but Max too had been dumb enough to walk across the floor barefoot and get twenty stitches between the two of them in their feet.
“I…wanted to…talk to you,” Tom struggles to say.
“You told me that already,” you remind him, trying not to sound as annoyed as you were getting.
“You didn’t tell Sebastian, did you?” Tom questions, and you raise an eyebrow before shaking your head. “Okay, good. He already hates me as is.”
“Sebastian doesn’t hate you,” you defend your brother, “he just…strongly dislikes you.”
Tom lets out a soft laugh, and the sound of it makes you think back to Germany, when he’d admitted to you he got lost your date with him.
“Uh so,” Tom stutters. “There’s someone here who-”
“Tommy.” Someone calling his name cuts Tom off and you turn your head, looking back over your shoulder in the direction of the voice. A long brown haired girl wearing a sweater and a pair of leggings standing with her phone clutched in one hand a few feet away is the source. She looks the same age as you, the complete absentness of makeup not hiding the blemishes to her cheeks or the freckles on her face.
Tom turns scarlet, and your heart beat picks up.
“Tom, I thought you said you were coming back up so we could finish watching the movie,” the girl says, then glances at you. “Who are you?”
You swallow, and resituate your legs.
“I’m (Y/N) Stan,” you introduce yourself.
“Sebastian Stan’s sister?” the girl questions.
“That’s me,” you nod, half-heartedly.
The girl’s eyes go wide, and she sits down at the table next to Tom, noticeably close to him, and extends her hand out to you.
“I’m Sarah Patricks,” she says, “I’m working on the set with my sister.”
You shake her hand, because it was polite, and remind yourself you don’t know anything about this girl and Tom.
“Why are you down here with (Y/N)?” Sarah asks Tom.
Sarah lays her head on Tom’s shoulder and you tense.
“You know what,” you say, picking your jacket up. “I’m going to go up to bed. It was a long flight.”
“(Y/N) wait,” Tom begins to try and stop you, but Sarah being in the way of him getting up traps him into the booth and you snatch your phone and its charger from the wall.
“Good night (Y/N),” Sarah calls after you. “Say hi to Sebastian for me.”
You drag your suitcase behind you, feeling a blazing sensation of foolishness in your chest as you press your finger against the elevator door’s button. Inside, you slump against the wall and take a trembling breath.
“Sebastian was right,” you mumble to yourself, closing your eyes when they start to burn.
You want to call Max, but you couldn’t find yourself having words to say. You wanted to find Elizabeth and hug her, but you didn’t want her to think anything was worse than it had been. You wanted to just fall onto your knees and stare at your reflection in the elevator mirror until you burned holes in your face at how stupid you’d been to have feelings for Tom, but you don’t.
The elevator doors open, and you make yourself get out and find your room number, but before you can slide the key into the lock, you see Chris and Mackie standing outside a hotel room at the end of the hall. You hear Sebastian’s voice before you see the top of his messy hair, and feel a heavy sense of dread in your stomach.
“Hey, there she is,” Mackie says, spotting you, and you push open your door.
“Good night,” you force yourself to say, and close the door as calmly as possible. Sebastian would know something was wrong, but chances were he wouldn’t come knocking since he was with Chris and Mackie.
The hotel room is cold, but you didn’t change out of your jeans and t-shirt, only putting on Damon’s varsity jacket and plugging your phone in before kicking off your shoes and climbing into the bed.
You hug the pillow, pretending it was Forest’s dog Johnson, and try to forget the feelings Tom had put inside of you.
It only works for a few moments until you realize the heat on your face is from your tears.
You don’t tell Sebastian hello from Sarah, and instead keep your chin high as you hold onto your brother’s arm in the morning on the way down to the lobby.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” Sebastian asks when Chris and Elizabeth get up to throw their trash away. You cut a glance around the lobby, eyeing the morning breakfast eaters, and spotting Sarah with other camera people you didn’t pay attention to before.
“Nothing,” you reply, sipping your coffee.
“Bull,” Sebastian calls it. “You always laugh at Chris’ puppy jokes and you’re still on your first cup of coffee.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“(Y/N),” he says, quirking a smile, “I know you hang out with a bunch of spies and soldiers, but we’re all shitty at lying, so that doesn’t make you any better.”
“Natasha is a good liar,” you say, trying to change the subject.
“Nice try, little sister,” Sebastian comments. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or am I going to have to beat it out of Tom?”
You look away and set your coffee down when Sebastian says Tom’s name, and he inwardly sighs, leaning back into his chair.
“I’m going to kill him,” Sebastian mutters. “What did he do?”
“There’s this girl,” you mumble, and Sebastian leans forward. “I think Tom likes her.”
“The girl better be you,” Sebastian says flatly.
“No,” you exhale, swallowing hard. “She’s sitting behind you at that table full of the camera people.”
Your brother turns around in his seat, eyes blatantly scanning the people in the direction you’re talking about.
“Brown hair,” you add, and he huff, turning back around.
“Mackenzie’s sister,” he says, “Sarah, right?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “She’s pretty.”
“True,” Sebastian nods, and you look up at him, a little surprised. “She’s pretty, and Tom probably know that too, but you’re the girl he’s been with the last week and a half.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you sigh. “She came down last night when he was trying to talk to me and asked him about going back upstairs to finish watching a movie with her before laying her head on his shoulder, and she was with him when he called me the other day.”
“In Berlin?” Sebastian asks, brow furrowing.
“Where is he?” Sebastian asks, looking around again.
“I don’t know,” you reply, “and I don’t care. I don’t want to start anything, Sebastian.”
“(Y/N),” your brother starts to say, “you can’t just let yourself get hurt.”
“I haven’t even known him for two weeks,” you reply. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Obviously it does,” Sebastian responds, and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look-”
“(Y/N)! Seabass!” Mackie shouting cuts your brother off as he jogs over, grabbing you and Sebastian by the shoulders. “You’ve got to come swimming with us.”
Your brow creases, grateful for the distraction. “It’s the middle of December.”
“And?” Mackie chuckles. “Let’s go! Chris, Elizabeth, Scar, and Renner are already on board.”
“Scarlett is doing it?” Sebastian asks.
“Yeah!” Mackie nods earnestly. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll even buy you chicken soup if you get sick.”
“I don’t have a bathing suit,” you say, and he shrugs.
“Just wear shorts and a shirt.”
“Are you going to do it?” you ask Sebastian.
“Okay,” you nod, and Mackie fist pumps, then raises his hands for high-fives.
“Guys!” Mackie shouts, running back over towards Renner and Chris after you and your brother smack hands with him. “They’re going to do it!”
“That’s because the Stans are crazy!” Downey says, shaking his head. You hadn’t seen him since Leipzig-Halle, but he looked as Tony Stark as ever in his black and red Iron Man sweatpants and wife-beater shirt.
“Damn right we are!” Sebastian calls back, and a smile breaks your face as Sebastian rises, collecting the remaining trash on the table.
“You’re going to go back into cryo if you go in that pool, Barnes!” Downey declares.
“At least I won’t have to share a hotel room with you anymore!”
“Language!” you, Elizabeth, and Downey shout in unison at Chris as he shakes the water out of his hair out. He flips the three of you off, and you laugh with Elizabeth as Downey returns the gesture.
“Come on, (Y/N),” Mackie calls from the pool. “Didn’t you say you’d come in?”
“That was before my brother’s face turned blue,” you call back. True to your word, Sebastian sitting at the pool’s edge, a cup of coffee in his hands with a towel over his shoulders, side-by-side with Scarlett and Renner, the last of the purplish blue tint in his face on around his lips.
“That’s because he’s weak,” Mackie replies, getting out of the pool.
“Mackie, I swear to God,” you say, starting to stand up to get away from him.
“Get her Mackie!” Chris eggs him on from the pool.
“Got it Cap!” Mackie shouts back, and you yelp, twisting away from him and almost slipping as you scramble around benches.
“It’s too cold!” you complain, running past Sebastian and Scarlett with Mackie on your heels.
“If Bucky Barnes can survive 70 years of torture and icy sleep, you can jump into the pool!” is Mackie’s response.
“That’s not fair! Bucky Barnes is a super soldier and I’m not!”
“Yeah but you’re super smart,” Chris says, getting into your path as he hauls himself out of the pool, dripping with water.
“Elizabeth!” you shout for help, with Chris and Mackie closing in on both of your sides.
“Sorry sister!” she calls back, “You’re on your own in this!”
Chris is within an arm’s reach of you and Mackie is putting his hand on your shoulder.
“I hate you all!” you shout, and then jump forward into the pool.
The cold water chokes the air right out of you, freezing you to your core and everything in your body begins to tremble as you break the surface.
“Fuck!” you say, teeth chattering.
“Language!” Chris sticks his tongue out at you, and you splash him.
“Get in and suffer with me before I pull you in,” you warn him and he laughs, jumping into the pool right near your left side.
“Cannonball!” Mackie yells, leaping into the air above your head, and you yelp, diving under and swimming past Chris, in the direction of Elizabeth and Downey.
“Come on!” you say, “it’s not too bad.”
“Your face is pale as the snow,” Elizabeth chuckles, but begins to take off her sweater.
“You all are crazy.” Downey shakes his head.
“You love us though,” you reply, winking.
“You’re on Team Cap,” he retorts, wrinkling his nose.
“All love no hate,” you respond, and push off of the wall as Elizabeth touches the water with her toe.
“Come on Liz,” Chris encourages her, swimming up to her.
“Go away,” she laughs, but he grabs her hands and pulls her in. Elizabeth screeches and you splash her in the face, triggering a freezing cold game of chicken.
Sitting unnoticed above your head, on a balcony a few floors up, Tom Holland sits in his sweater and pants, watching the pool deck.
He turns his phone over in his hands, feeling like he wanted to chuck it across the property at his own stupidity. He opens his texts, going to your contact, and purses his lips before sighing.
“Fuck it,” he mumbles, and begins to type.
Meet me in the lobby at eight.
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