Fics like under my umbrella

Steve sidles up to the bench. Munson stands at the other end of it, arms crossed tightly over his chest, glaring out at the street as if that will make the bus show up any quicker. His bangs are flat against his forehead, the rest of his long hair lank and wet over his shoulders. He looks like a drowned cat. So Steve holds out his umbrella. Tilts his chin and raises his eyebrows at Munson as an invitation to step under and get out of the rain. Munson looks at the umbrella for less than a second before he turns back towards the street with a scoff. “No thanks,” he says. “I’m good.” “Dude,” Steve says, dumbfounded. “Dude,” Munson parrots mockingly. “You’re really going to turn down my umbrella?” Steve asks, still holding it out. “I really am,” Munson replies, showing all of his teeth in a rancorous smile. “Now if you don’t mind,” he adds, taking a large step forward, closer to the curb and further from Steve. Steve lets out an indignant huff and pulls his umbrella back to himself. Only just refrains from muttering an unsavory name under his breath because he’s a good person now. Whatever. Let Munson get soaked. Let him freeze.

Fics like under my umbrella

You may also like