For Steve

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[This is a bad idea.

Bucky knows it as soon as he stops outside the little community centre where these classes run and he sees the other students milling about, chatting to each other in their own little cliques. The thing has been running for a while, it's an art group for anyone with any sort of mental health issue - depression, anxiety, psychosis. He's here for PTSD, practically bullied into it by his therapist at the VA, under the instructions that he needs to get out and start socialising more.

There are only six other people, four women and two men, and it already feels like too large a crowd. He makes sure his prosthetic is properly covered by a glove and long sleeve, stuffed into his pocket so nobody can tell it hangs strangely, and slouches in at the back. From the conversations he can overhear, blonde woman and redhead woman have anxiety issues, brunette #1 and the two men all have depression, and brunette #2 has psychosis. They're all so open with each other, chatting about medications and coping techniques and the work they've been doing in class already.

One of them approaches him and asks his name, and what he's there for, but he just glowers at her until she retreats again. He doesn't want anyone to know why he's here, and he's only here so Wilson will stop goddamn riding him about it.

He slumps into the seat nearest the back and waits for the teacher to arrive, already sure this is going to be a waste of time...]

Comments

[andstripes]

[With any luck Steve will get another chance to hear that, ideally under more favorable circumstances.

Instead he’s outside, too busy glaring at Natasha.]

You know what - I can handle the shopping by myself, thanks anyway. I will consider calling you on Monday.

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[She's not about to be cowed, she knows that he's a big puppy underneath his rippling muscles, so she reaches out and grasps hold of his arm.]

Oh, come on, Steve, don't be a big baby. He liked it, he was laughing.

[andstripes]

It was one request, Natasha!

[He is a big softie, and he’s more hurt than angry. Steve probably does get too easily embarrassed about things, but this is a guy he’s still getting to know who Steve very desperately wants to think well of him.

So, you know, Steve is also still so red he’s practically glowing.]

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I know, and it was a request, not an order, so I decided not to grant it.

[She does stop laughing, though, and looks up at him with a glimmer of that perceptiveness shining through.]

Besides, the tension needed breaking. He's obviously had a fight with his sister, it was awkward, and everyone needed a distraction. I'm sure you'll sacrifice your pride for that.

[andstripes]

[Any bit of anger hanging around drains pretty thoroughly at that. Much as Steve hates to admit it, Natasha is right. She’s usually right.

He covers his face with his hands and just sort of slumps to the sidewalk, his back against the brick of the building.]

He’s going to think I’m an idiot now and never want to see me again.

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[She leans down to press a light kiss to the top of his head.]

You are an idiot, Steve, so he can be forgiven for thinking that. But I bet you my whole salary this year that it won't change how much he's looking forward to tomorrow. Now come on, we have a lot of shopping to do, no time to sit and mope about naked arrest stories.

[andstripes]

[Steve's embarrassment isn't going to go away any tim3 soon, but she's right in that they're burning daylight here. He gives her another glare that's more sort of pathetic than actually angry before giving a great sigh and pulling himself back to his feet.

His mood will improve the more they're out, anyway. Even if getting condoms and some very flattering tight pants does make him sputter a bit.]

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[She makes him buy both the condoms and the flattering tight pants, as well as a shirt that sets off the blue of his eyes, and talks him out of a tie (seriously, Steve, this isn't the 1940s). She also gets him some nice new sheets for his bed, a shampoo that smells like coconut and a body wash that compliments it. A haircut is the last thing on the list, just to make him properly neat and tidy.

After that, there's nothing much for her to do except drop him home and wish him luck, more sincerely than she's done anything yet.

Bucky has spent an evening also worrying about what he's going to do, rummaging through his pathetic backpack of clothes to pick out an outfit he hasn't worn since before he shipped out, and sorting out the dog. She makes too much noise on his floors, something that grates through him with every step, and she ends up having to fulfil her duties by bringing him out of a panic attack by the time night sets on.

Come morning, Bucky is ready. His hair is washed and neatly brushed, though left loose, and he's wearing dark jeans that look as if they've been painted on for how tight they are, and a leather jacket over a pale t-shirt. Yasha has also been brushed up to look good, now all he has left to do is pace until Steve comes to knock for him.]

[andstripes]

[Eleven o’clock on the dot and Steve is knocking at Bucky’s door. He’d already showered and made a bunch of pancakes and have them all set out with a cloth over them to keep them warm, though he left things out in case Bucky wants more.

Steve may have woken up before the crack of dawn for all his fretting. He made quite a bit of pancakes to make up for that fretting. Even the shower doesn’t really mask the scent, so he ends up smelling mostly like coconut pancakes when he goes to get Bucky, trying not to fidget at the door.]

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[Yasha is the first out of the door, giving Bucky the chance to once more slip out and close the door before his crummy apartment can be seen. Not that he makes it much further than his closed door before just stopping to gape a bit.]

Wow, Rogers.

[Wow indeed, how is he real? He's like one of those fantasy men, too perfect to exist outside of a daydream.]

You look gorgeous.

[andstripes]

[Again, Steve is a little too distracted by Bucky himself to even try getting a look in his apartment anyway. Steve thought Bucky was attractive before, but seeing him all done up in bad boy splendor... If he does that low flirty voice again Steve knows he'll have no chance.

He swallows the lump in his throat. The first attempt at a hello doesn't really het anything more than an 'uh' but the second mostly works.]

Uh- H-hi, uh. Good morning. You look, um. Are you really single? You can't be.

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[To be looked at like Steve is looking at him now is something special; it didn't used to be because he used to be assured of his looks and his appeal to others, but with how he feels about himself these days it's amazing. He can't help it, he takes a step closer to their already close proximity and presses a light kiss to Steve's lips. God and that's sinful because he wants to do it again as soon as he steps back.]

I'm kinda hoping that I'm not single, you're right.

[That is way too forward for a first date but it comes blurting out anyway. Jesus, Barnes, cool it or he'll go running a mile.]

Sorry, uh, I mean... this is Yasha, my dog.

[andstripes]

[Unfair, Barnes, unfair. Steve doesn't really kiss back, but it's pretty clear why right away. That one light kiss alone has left him dazed, like Bucky might as well have just pinned him to the wall for an extended makeout session.

Get it together, Rogers.]

Uh, right, right!

Good to meet you, Yasha.

We should head down before the food gets cold. I, I'm, I got her some dog treats too yesterday, if that's okay.

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[Yasha is a very well behaved and well trained dog so, unless Steve pets her specifically, she won't actually leave Bucky's side while he's out of the apartment. That's her job.

Bucky looks a little flushed, but he's grinning when he realises Steve isn't mad that he went for the kiss or that he might have insinuated that he wants this to be more than just one date.]

Sure, that's okay by me. Lead the way, Steve, I'm in your hands.

[He can't help it, buoyed by his success so far his flirty side comes back out, and that low purr makes it out of his lips again.]

Well-- not in your hands yet, maybe later.

[andstripes]

At least wait until you try the pancakes.

[Steve's protests do not sound at all upset, and he's certainly flushed as well as he leads the way down to his apartment - which smells very much like pancakes and fresh coffee and a bunch of different kinds of fruit ... and a little bacon and eggs too - pancakes are the focus (most are plain but some are fancyish recipes he found on pinterest) but they're there for a well balanced meal if Bucky wants! He's even set up the kitchen island as a makeshift table and acquired an additional chair for it.

That's not even getting into him almost entirely rearranging the area where his bed and drawing desk are to catch the best light and move all the other lights in his apartment to in the event it goes long enough to get dark.

Basically Steve panicked, and when Steve panics Steve over-prepares.]

Have a seat, everything should be on the table, uh - let me know if you want anything else? Oh! I'll get a bowl of water out for Yasha.

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[He can't deny that he's impressed with what Steve's done with the space in only a few days, it looks like a real home now. Everything smells good, looks inviting, but there's such an air of tension. It's like they're both trying too hard and he doesn't want this to get weird and strained.

So he stops Steve as he goes to grab a bowl and fill it with water, hand clasping over his wrist firmly, and tugs him to sit down.]

Uh-uh, she had some water a little bit ago, she can wait. We're gonna play twenty questions.

[It's so stupid, but he can remember it working as an ice breaker in other situations. Questions leading to conversation, leading to relaxing.]

I get to start, so-- my first question, is it true you were arrested for running nude on your college campus?

[andstripes]

[Steve is happy enough to follow any direction Bucky gives. Until he goes and brings up that. That tears it, he's calling Bruce about the date when it's over with, not Natasha. Steve groans and covers his face with his hands.]

I wasn't arrested. ... it was campus security, not the cops. Campus security can't actually arrest you.

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[He manages not to laugh through a Herculean effort, though there's definite amusement in his voice.]

Still counts. So-- were you trying to be sneaky, all crouched low and hands over your junk, or did you just go for it free and loose?

[andstripes]

[Steve peeks out at Bucky from between his fingers.]

I’m not going to get out of this without just telling the whole story, am I?

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Nope.

[He pops the P at the end of the word, sounding incredibly pleased with himself.]

Make it a good story and you get the next question.

[andstripes]

[Steve groans again.]

Alright, alright. Might as well just rip that band-aid off.

As you already know, Clint pulled the stealing clothes prank on me. I didn’t know that at the time, I mean, I knew it was some prank but I assumed it was Tony. Not that it mattered. It was late enough that I thought there was a genuine possibility of getting back to my dorm unseen, and my dorm wasn’t actually that far either. I would have not attempted it otherwise. That part of the campus also had a lot of overgrown foliage, so plenty of hiding places provided you don’t stumble on someone using it to smoke weed or spend some personal time with their significant other.

Except for that last stretch of the quad - Just a lot of empty lawn and some sidewalk. Going around would mean three or four times as long. I’m not sure if it was brave or stupid but I just went for it. Aaaand of course that was when campus security was going through.

He gave me a blanket when he carted me into the office at least. I guess with how readily I took it and the fact that I was a bit of a known boy scout had him easily believe I was the victim of a prank rather than the perpetrator of one.

Also he clearly found the whole thing hilarious, himself.

My roommate at the time Phil was in the dorm and kind enough to bring me some clothes at the security office. I thought they were the only ones to witness that whole terrible thing but, uh. Evidently not, because there were pictures the next day. It took like a year to die down. I think Natasha still has copies for blackmail purposes.

There, that’s the whole thing. Good enough?

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[Bucky hasn't been able to resist the allure of pancakes while Steve talks, piling his plate with the fluffy treats, along with enough syrup and sugar to give several people diabetes. It's a wonder that he's not the size of a house with the sweet tooth that he has, but he can thank the army and the gym for that.

He ends up laughing helplessly, unable to stop picturing the idea of Steve's mortified face as he realises that campus security have caught him mid-run. He's going to have to get Natasha to show him any copies she still has.]

Brilliant, you've definitely earned your question in return.

[See? This is good, relaxed. He's already laughing, something he doesn't really do with anyone else. And if he's sort of planning how he might be able to kiss Steve again, that's not a bad thing.]

[andstripes]

[okay, so maybe hearing Bucky laugh and seeing him smile and be so at ease is worth the embarrassment of it all. As long as Bucky doesn't think Steve isn't worth associating with after that.]

Your turn to tell an embarrassing story - I told one, I need to feel less mortified and misery loves company. [All this being said with a laugh and a smile, of course.]

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Okay, okay.

[He thinks for a second, not that he hasn't got a huge variety to choose from with the amount of dumb stuff he's done in his life.]

Oh right, I've got one. Okay, so when we were little, my Ma used to get matching Halloween costumes for me and Becca, because she thought it was sweet. Obviously we grew out of it, but after she died, we decided it would be cute to do it again in her memory. But we couldn't agree on what to go as, and we kind of-- have a bit of a competitive problem. So we had this bet and whoever won it got to pick the costume the other person had to wear all of Halloween, no matter what they were doing.

I lost.

I had to go to my senior yearbook photos and class all day as Jessica Rabbit, in the slit dress and everything. She even made me sing that song in the cafeteria at lunch.

[andstripes]

[It's Steve's turn to eat and listen to Bucky's story, and there's no mistaking which one he'd paying more attention to - he's hanging on Bucky's every word. Steve winced sympathetically but laughs too. He doesn't even notice he's got a bit of syrup on the corner of his mouth.]

Oh my god- how did you keep the dress up?