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The first time really was legitimate. The hot tap in the kitchen started leaking and Sam decided Bucky’s method of sticking a bucket under it wasn’t sufficient. And apparently just because Bucky worked from home most days, that meant he had to deal with calling their apartment manager to let them know, so they’d send someone to fix it.
Sometimes Bucky hated being an adult.
Sam bugged him about it for a week before he finally called, and their apartment manager said they’d send someone round the next morning.
“Make sure they fix it properly, alright?” Sam reminded him as he pulled on his coat and shoes, about to head to work. “Don’t let them leave unless it’s fixed. We pay extortionate money for this place after all.”
Bucky sighed at him, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll watch them like a hawk,” he promised from where he was lounging on the couch in his old sweatpants and the rumpled t-shirt he’d slept in, which featured Keanu Reeves and the words ‘you’re breathtaking’ on it. He flicked through the TV channels while sipping his morning coffee.
“Okay, have a good one,” Sam said as he breezed out the door.
Bucky let out a disgruntled noise and shoved his cold toes under one of the cushions on the couch. It was alright for Sam. He got to go off to work and counsel veterans. Bucky was the one who had to deal with making small talk with a stranger in his home when he should be working on his novel. And no way would he be able to focus on that with someone banging away at the pipes.
Seeing as there was no point starting writing, he decided he’d watch a little TV and then take a shower before the plumber showed up at their estimated time of between nine and ten, and seriously, what was with that? Why couldn’t they specify an exact time?
Unfortunately, Bucky found himself a little too enthralled by reruns of America’s Next Top Model, and suddenly there was a knock on the door, and he realised with dismay that it was nine-twenty.
Grumbling to himself, he dragged himself up from the couch, pushing back his hair, grimacing at the feel of it, because it definitely needed washing, and opened the door.
“Hi, I’m here about a leaking pipe?”
Bucky’s eyes widened at the huge hunk of beef standing in his doorway. His brain switched off for a moment as he stared in stunned silence.
Holy fucking hell, this man was gorgeous. He had the kind of physique that Bucky fantasised about, with arm muscles that could definitely haul Bucky up against a wall, before the rest of his body pounded him through it. Bucky loved the lumberjack vibe he had with his green check shirt and light blue jeans. And then that all-American soft gold hair and bright blue eyes and that adorable little smile on his face…good god, Bucky was going to melt at his feet. It had been a long while since he’d been floored by anyone.
The man kept smiling expectantly at him and then Bucky realised he’d probably been staring for a good few seconds without saying anything, like a complete weirdo. That was just great. Way to make a terrible impression with the new love of his life.
“Right, sorry, hi. Come on in.” Bucky moved back, gesturing with his arm for the man to enter, waiting for him to do so, so he could shut the door behind him.
It was both polite and had the major advantage that Bucky got to follow the guy now, letting his eyes wander to the denim-clad ass of dreams, as Bucky would now call it. Christ, that had to be the best ass Bucky had ever seen. So pert and tight and…
Oh fuck, the man had turned around. Bucky snapped his eyes upwards quickly.
The expectant look was back.
Bucky frowned, a little confused, wondering why this beautiful man was looking at him like that.
“Sooo, did you want to show me the tap?” the man asked with a little eyebrow raise, slightly lifting the toolbox in his hand.
“Right, yeah,” Bucky nodded, startling a little out of his stupor. Jesus, he needed to pull himself together. “It’s the hot tap on this sink,” he said, leading the guy over. He opened the cupboard underneath. “It’s been dripping here. Not too much, but you know, enough.”
He got a nod back as the man settled down on his knees to take a closer look and then seemed to nod to himself.
“Shouldn’t be too long to fix it,” he told Bucky. “Probably the washer’s worn down. I’ll just shut off the water and then get started.”
“Great,” Bucky nodded, getting a little dazzled by the pretty, pretty eyes looking at him. “The thingy is under there somewhere.”
The man smiled, looking a little amused. “Thanks…” Then he waited.
“Oh, uh, Bucky,” Bucky replied, flustered.
“Steve,” Steve nodded back, and then he turned back to the sink, moving some of the cleaning products out the way so he could shut off the water.
Bucky watched him for a moment before he realised it was probably weird behaviour to just stare at your plumber, and then quickly escaped to his bedroom.
Dear god, how was it possible that a man that fucking beautiful was in his house right now. He looked down at himself and then in the mirror.
Fuck.
He looked like he’d slept in a bush. His hair was crazy. His sweatpants had literal Cheeto dust embedded on them and he was wearing a shirt that had Keanu Reeves’ face on it, which okay, was awesome, but still. This was so not the way to make a good impression.
He grabbed his brush to attempt to make himself more presentable, quickly knotting his hair back into a slubby bun when he’d brushed it through. Then he changed out of his old sweats and into his tight jeans that, okay sure, he couldn’t necessarily bend in, but damn did they look good. He sprayed himself with deodorant and then pulled on a simple white tee and looked in the mirror again.
That was so much better.
He shoved a mint into his mouth and returned to the living room to find Steve lying on his back, head in the cupboard, wrench in hand, as he did something to the pipes. He’d removed the check shirt and was just in a white t-shirt, much like Bucky’s, and the thing was riding up, showing off the most gloriously toned abs Bucky had ever seen.
Fuuuuck.
Bucky’s brain turned off again as he stood there, mouth dropping open a little at the sight before him.
It took him a minute to recover.
Then he came back to himself. There was the hottest man in the world in his kitchen and he was not about to waste this opportunity. Time to turn on the Bucky charm, he decided. A big part of him wanted to just go and lower himself down on top of the man, but that wasn’t probably the subtlest move, he figured. He should probably start subtle.
“So Steve,” Bucky started, walking over to him, trying to make his voice low and sultry, without being obvious about it, “can I get you a coffee while you work?” he offered. “There’s some in the pot still.”
Steve moved a little and glanced up to meet his eyes. He blinked once. “No, thank you. Not really a coffee drinker.” He went back to wrenching? Was it called wrenching? Bucky decided it was.
“I have juice?” Bucky offered instead.
Steve glanced over again. “If it’s not too much trouble, that would be great. Thank you.”
Oof, more gorgeous than should be allowed in one person and so polite. Bucky was in love.
Or okay, more like lust, but still. He just needed to get a read on Steve. So far his gaydar was letting him down mightily.
He stepped over to the fridge, getting out the juice and two glasses, pouring them out, before returning to Steve.
He crouched down, swearing he could hear his jean’s stitching screaming as it held on for dear life as he did so, and leant in. “Here you go,” he said softly.
Steve startled and smacked his head on the underside of the cupboard.
“Oh shit, are you okay?” Oh god, Bucky had concussed him. He’d gone and injured poor, beautiful Steve. He set the juice down on the floor in a panic.
Steve shook his head with an embarrassed smile, rubbing his head a little as he wormed his way out the cupboard to sit up. “Ouch,” he said, still smiling, but with a tiny grimace.
“You okay? Do you have a bump?” Bucky asked, reaching out to run his fingers carefully over the top of Steve’s head where it got hit.
Steve looked at him curiously. “It’s fine,” he replied, and then Bucky realised what he just did.
“Uh.” He moved his hand away, fingers suddenly itching to go back to touch that soft gold hair. “You sure?” Dammit—up close, Steve smelled really good. Bucky could literally feel himself leaning in, entranced by him.
“Yeah. Forgot the first rule of having my head in a cupboard,” Steve joked. He picked up his glass of juice from the floor and took a sip. “Thanks,” he said with a little smile, placing it down carefully, away from where he was working, before he went back in there.
Bucky got back on his feet, feeling all discombobulated. “I’ll just leave you to it,” he mumbled, heading back over to the couch. Man, this wasn’t working well so far. He was usually so good at this as well. Sam always made fun of him for being a massive flirt.
He lay back on the couch, annoyed with himself, tuning back in to Top Model, except he kept glancing over at Steve and the way his arms bulged as he worked, and lost himself to little fantasises the whole time.
Fantasises where Steve maybe came to his door wearing nothing but a tool belt. Or maybe just those jeans, slung low on his hips. Or maybe where he got so hot doing work in Bucky’s apartment, that he had no choice but to strip off his clothes…
Around half an hour later, Steve was getting to his feet. “All done,” he smiled as he packed up his toolbox and put his now empty glass of juice on the counter.
“Yeah?” Bucky was impressed. He kinda always expected tradesmen to drag out repairs so they could charge more. “That’s great.” He muted the TV and got up to have a look.
“I really like the colour of the cupboards by the way,” Steve continued as he pulled his check shirt back on over his tee, and Bucky said a silent goodbye to those arm muscles being all out in the open.
Bucky smiled happily at Steve’s comment though. “Thanks, I did that all myself.” He’d done it one day when Sam hadn’t been home, and fuck had Sam been mad, but come on, who wanted to look at pine cupboards all day? Bucky was the one who was there all the time, after all. Now they were a beautiful creamy grey. “Technically we’re not supposed to change anything in here like that, but like, fuck landlords, am I right?” he grinned. Sam swore Bucky would be the one losing his deposit when they moved out, but Bucky couldn’t see how their landlord could be mad that he improved the place. Frankly it was damn generous of him.
Steve gave him a small smile back, which Bucky found encouraging.
“I mean really, you see the colour of the wood on the inside right? Who in their right mind would pick that for a kitchen,” he said, widening his eyes. “And then charge a fortune for it,” he added with an incredulous smirk, hoping Steve was finding him adorable.
“Um, I’m not so good with décor, I guess,” Steve replied, a pained look on his face now.
That made Bucky pause. “Huh?” Bucky frowned at him.
“Um, you do know I’m your landlord, right?”
Bucky felt like all the blood drained from his face. Fucking no, he did not know that. “Say what?” he uttered, frozen.
Steve looked painfully embarrassed. “I’m your landlord. I tend to do all the work myself whenever there’s a problem, if I can at least. Plumbing, electrics, stuff like that. I mean, I’m fully certified in it, don’t worry about that,” he added hurriedly.
Shit, shit, shit. “Um, fuck,” Bucky blurted, shell-shocked. “I was just trying to be funny, the pine really wasn’t that bad,” he panicked, trying to take it back, looking worriedly at Steve. “Oh crap, I’m not getting my deposit back, am I,” he realised.
Steve chuckled lightly, cheeks a little pink. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I’m not great at decorating. I like the colour you picked.”
“Really?” Bucky said doubtfully, feeling hugely embarrassed, like wanting the floor to swallow him up embarrassed.
Steve shrugged. “It saves me a job. And hey, if the rent is too much, we could discuss it—”
“No!” Bucky almost died at his kindness. “I was totally kidding.” God, he was mortified. He waved his hand in the air. “That whole thing, totally a joke. It’s a really fair price and I love landlords. You guys are great.”
Steve let out a proper laugh then. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better,” he smiled a little bashfully. “I know everyone hates us. I kinda hate me too, but I inherited the place and I couldn’t seem to part with it, so…” He shrugged.
“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” Bucky felt like the worst person on the planet as he looked around wondering who the place had belonged to.
“My mom,” Steve answered the unasked question, following his gaze. “But don’t worry, she’s not haunting the place. She lived a very full life,” he joked, smiling softly.
“Oh god, I didn’t…those weren’t your mom’s cupboards, were they?” Bucky asked meekly, ready to jump out the window if the answer was yes.
Steve smiled back at him. “No, I had the kitchen redone, don’t worry.” He lifted his toolbox. “Anyway, I better be off, got another appointment.” He pulled a card out of his pocket. “You can contact me directly if anything else breaks, if you want?” he said, passing Bucky the card. “And, um, I’m totally open to redecorating, just let me know what needs doing and we’ll work it out.”
Bucky took the card, feeling like a total jackass, flirting plan forgotten. “Thanks, Steve, that’s real nice of you. But really, it’s great here. Promise.”
Steve nodded. “I’m glad.” He headed for the door with Bucky following behind. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Bucky,” he said, sticking out a hand to shake Bucky’s.
Bucky was still too mortified to really appreciate how warm and solid his hand was and how nice it was to touch him.
“You too, Steve,” he said as Steve left and closed the door behind him.
Bucky dropped his head forward onto the closed door, mortified.
Fuck.
****
The thing was, Bucky couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Steve after that. He was so gorgeous and sweet and understanding, and Bucky had made a fool of himself and he had no idea if Steve was into men, but still…he kept daydreaming about him.
But the thing was, Bucky had a rule. A self-imposed rule after one too many bad relationships. Bucky no longer made the first move. He refused. Whenever he made the first move, he always ended up being the one left behind and he was done with that. He wanted to be chased.
And damn, did he want Steve to chase him.
It was almost too easy to realise what he needed to do.
“Sam!” he yelled. “The disposal’s broken!”
Sam rushed into the kitchen to find Bucky flicking the switch on and off and nothing happening. And okay, sure, it might have been broken because Bucky shoved a ton of crap down there and broke it, but it was still broken.
“Ah, fuck,” Sam sighed. “Can you call to get it fixed?” he asked, with pleading eyes. “I know you hate dealing with that stuff, but I won’t be back till late today and I don’t have time right now.”
Bucky let out a put-upon sigh. “Alright, I’ll call them,” he said, fake magnanimously.
Sam looked relived and grateful. “Thanks man. You’re a lifesaver. I gotta run.”
And then he was out the door again.
Bucky smiled to himself as he wandered over to pick up the phone and call Steve, disappointed when it went to voicemail, but he left a message. Half an hour later, he got a text confirming Steve could be over at one.
Bucky grinned to himself. That was perfect. He had time to go and shower and make himself look irresistible.
When he let Steve in at one on the dot, Bucky’s hair was shiny and clean, falling softly round his face, he’d dabbed a little lip balm on his lips to make them shiny, and he was in his workout clothes with a dressing gown over them. Because he had a plan to put into action here.
“Hi, Bucky,” Steve smiled that gorgeous smile of his.
“Hi, Steve,” Bucky greeted back, stupidly excited to see him again. “Come on in.” And yes, he got Steve to walk past him again so he could take in that delectable ass that somehow was even better than in his memories. Bucky almost sighed in awe out loud.
“So…garbage disposal acting up?” Steve asked, as he made his way over to the sink again.
“Yep.” Bucky tried to look forlorn.
“I’m gonna have to turn off the electrics,” Steve told him. “That okay?”
Bucky nodded and waved his hand. “Yeah, no problem. I figured as much. I’ll just leave you to it, figured I’d do some yoga,” he added, looking over at the mat he’d setup before Steve got there.
Steve glanced at him and then nodded. “Sure.” He wandered over to the electric box, clearly knowing where it was, and Bucky headed over to his mat.
Bucky did yoga, usually once a week, at his friend Nat’s place. He was pretty damn good at it and the muscle shirt and somewhat short shorts he had on seemed like an excellent way to determine if Steve swung his way.
He pulled off the dressing gown and dumped it on the couch and then started his practice.
He glanced over at Steve throughout, but the man seemed to be only focused on the sink. Bucky sighed to himself as he went into tree pose.
After five minutes of Steve not looking over, Bucky decided to saunter over there.
“Sorry, just need some water,” Bucky apologised as he leant over the counter next to Steve to get a glass from the cupboard just above the sink.
“S-sure,” Steve replied, and oh, wasn’t that interesting. There was a light blush on Steve’s cheeks when he glanced at Bucky.
Bucky went over to the fridge, feeling triumphant, and bent to get water, leaning more than he needed to, sticking his ass out. A quick glance back told him Steve’s eyes had been on him, and oh yes, that was definitely interesting.
He sipped his water thoughtfully and returned to his mat, almost sure Steve’s eyes were following him back.
He continued on, making sure he did his downward-facing dog with his ass facing Steve. Then he went through a series of moves, glancing over at Steve when he felt his eyes on him again.
Steve definitely looked caught out this time. He coughed a little weirdly as Bucky kept looking over at him. “I always thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing but that seems intense,” he commented with a little eyebrow raise.
Bucky grinned over at him, going into warrior two. “I mean, it can be, but it takes a lot of core strength. You’ve never tried it?”
Steve shook his head, looking down as he inspected whatever the shiny thing in his hand was. “I don’t think I have the grace for it,” he replied with a little huff of amusement. He moved back to looking at the sink, fiddling around.
Bucky wondered if Steve was finding him graceful in that moment. “You never know until you try,” he replied, not wanting the conversation to be over.
Steve looked over at him with a chuckle, eyes widening a little as he took in the one-legged king pigeon pose Bucky had gone into. “I know my limits.”
Bucky felt cheered by their little conversation but pouted a little to himself as Steve’s attention went back fully to his job, banging away. This was so much harder than usual. The blushing seemed to be encouraging, he thought, but then why wasn’t Steve trying to ravage him? He looked hot as fuck if he did say so himself. The women at his yoga class were always fawning all over him, and he never wore his tiny shorts there, so he was at least at twenty percent more hotness right now, he figured. So why wasn’t Steve pouncing on him?
Maybe Steve was just shy, Bucky mused. He could definitely get on board with that, even though the thought of that was crazy because how anyone who looked like Steve could be shy, Bucky had no idea, but it was super adorable if that was it. But that meant Bucky had to play this carefully and not spook him. He knew sometimes he could be a lot to handle.
The noise of Steve working suddenly stopped and a little triumphant noise came from the kitchen area.
Bucky glanced over in surprise to find Steve holding a bunch of chicken bones that had somehow gotten into the disposal.
“I think I found the source of the problem,” he joked, wrinkling his nose a little as he located the garbage to throw the bones away.
“Oh wow,” Bucky faked surprise as he wandered over. “My roommate must have done that.” He shook his head as though in complete dismay. “I’m always telling him, but he’s always putting stuff down there.”
Steve looked bemused and moved over to turn the electrics back on, then flipped the switch for the disposal, which growled back to life. He had a look and then flicked it off again. “Well, all better now,” he smiled, looking pleased. “Maybe remind your roommate again?” he suggested with a little shrug.
Bucky nodded, eyes wide. “For sure,” he promised solemnly. “Sorry you had to come out like this.”
Steve washed his hands, turning his head to look as he spoke to Bucky. “It’s not a problem. I’m glad I could get it fixed.”
“You’re really good with your hands,” Bucky replied with a little innocent smile, realising Steve was going to leave and figuring maybe he should kick this up a notch.
Steve coughed and looked down for a moment. “Um, I guess. I always liked figuring out how stuff worked. Made sense to do some courses so I could take care of things myself.” He started packing his things away.
“Well, you’re my saviour,” Bucky said, laying it on thick, leaning onto the kitchen counter next to him.
Steve blushed a little again as he closed up his toolbox. “Just doing my job.”
Bucky loved how modest he was. Seeing as he could barely change a light bulb, Bucky was actually fully amazed by Steve’s skills. “Well, you’re really good at it,” Bucky added. Then he waited until Steve looked back over and then he took an exaggerated stretch, ensuring his stomach would show under his tank and that his arm muscles went taught.
Steve looked a little flustered, Bucky thought. He hoped it wasn’t just wishful thinking. “Well, I’ll get outta your hair, let you finish your yoga.”
Bucky gave him a little hopefully sexy smile. “Well you’re welcome to call me if you ever want to give it a go,” he offered.
Steve let out a nervous little laugh. “Ah, I appreciate it, but believe me, I’d be a disaster.” He suddenly headed for the door quickly. “Anyway, have a good day, Bucky. Hopefully everything stays working in here,” he smiled.
Bucky sighed to himself as he shut the door as Steve left. What the hell had happened? Was he getting old? Was he just not as hot anymore? He pouted to himself as he collapsed on the couch. Ugh, Steve was just so damn handsome, maybe it was throwing off his usually perfect flirting skills.
But he refused to give up.
He was just going to have to up his game.
****
“It just won’t open anymore,” Bucky told Steve, with a sigh, trying to look forlorn.
“Hmm,” Steve hummed, looking at the window frame in the living room. “Have you not been opening it much?”
Bucky shrugged. “Not really. Just tried today and it was stuck.” God, it was a good thing he had a great poker face.
And okay, Bucky knew he was starting to go too far here, but really what was he supposed to do? He didn’t want to actually damage anything important on purpose, so gluing the window shut seemed like a great plan—something easy for Steve to fix, but something that got him to come over. It was probably a fire hazard or something, so it wasn’t like Steve couldn’t not fix it, Bucky had realised. And if it gave Steve a chance to fall in love with him and want to have his babies, well then…
Oh god, he was losing his mind.
Steve put his hands against the frame and tried to push it up.
Bucky’s mouth went a little dry watching his muscles bulge under his blue sweater. Damn, but this man was perfect. What did he care if Steve made him literally nuts, as long as he got to look at him.
“Hmm,” Steve hummed again, before going over to the toolbox he’d left by the couch and starting to look through it.
“I’m so glad you could come so quickly again, it’s real decent of you,” Bucky told him, watching as Steve crouched down, making that peach of an ass stick out.
“It’s not a problem. I live pretty close and I don’t want to be one of those awful landlords who doesn’t take care of their tenants,” Steve replied, standing up, flathead screwdriver in hand.
Bucky would let Steve take care of him anyway he wanted, damn…
Bucky blinked and tried to come back to reality. “You live close?” he repeated, with a grin. How perfect was that?
“Yeah, ‘bout ten blocks thataway,” Steve replied, pointing towards the east.
“Cool,” Bucky replied casually, realising he had an opening to find out a little more about Steve. “Do you have a roommate like mine who insists on calling the landlord for every little thing?” he asked with a sheepish smile.
Steve chuckled. “It’s really fine,” he promised, turning to the window. “And no, I live on my own actually. Sometimes I miss having a roommate.” He started trying to jimmy open the window with the screwdriver.
“I guess it has its good and bad points,” Bucky mused, moving a little closer to watch Steve work, and yeah okay, so he could smell him, while beaming inside because Steve living alone was hopefully a good sign. He was just going to have to go for it if he wanted to know for sure though. “So you don’t live with your partner?” he asked innocently, looking at the window like he was enthralled by it as he felt Steve glance over at him.
“Um, no, don’t have one of those,” Steve replied after a second.
“Hmm, me either,” Bucky replied, acting casual. “So hard to meet people these days.”
Steve shrugged a shoulder as he slid the screwdriver into the gap in the frame. “I suppose it is.”
“I tried doing the online thing, but all the guys I met were either complete weirdos or trying to catfish me or just wanted one thing,” Bucky continued, deciding to jump in with both feet. There. Now if it hadn’t been obvious before, and really how could it have not, but just in case, now Steve knew for sure that Bucky was both single and liked men. He waited, oddly hopeful that Steve would fling the screwdriver across the room and haul Bucky into his arms.
Sadly, it didn’t happen.
Steve looked over at him for a moment, with a look of sympathy, and maybe Bucky imagined it, but maybe there was some interest there? God, Bucky hoped there was.
“I’ve never done online dating,” Steve admitted, going back to the window. “I think I’d be too nervous.”
And wasn’t that just adorable? Bucky’s heart melted. He was about to press forward when Steve put his hands on the window and the thing moved, opening up, letting in a breeze of fresh air.
“Ah, there we go,” Steve smiled at the window, looking pleased with his handiwork. “It was pretty solidly stuck there,” he mused, looking a little confused.
Bucky tried to smile gratefully instead of looking as disappointed as he felt that Steve had done that so quickly. “You must have a magic touch,” he tried to flirt, but Steve just smiled softly.
Bucky felt his heart drop as Steve went back to his toolbox to put the screwdriver away, picking the thing up. So much for his flinging idea. “Well, all sorted, so I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Yeah, um, thanks again.” Bucky followed Steve to the door, trying desperately to decide if he should just forget his stupid rule and just ask Steve out, because this was clearly getting him nowhere.
“See you around,” Steve said, opening the front door before Bucky could decide what to do.
Bucky stood watching as he headed out, panicking a little. “Hey, Steve?” he called out, and Steve paused and looked back at him. “I’m sure anyone you met online would be thrilled to meet you in real life,” he called out without thinking properly.
Steve’s face softened as he looked over and he smiled, a little shyly. “Thanks.” Then he did a little dorky wave and he was gone.
God fucking dammit.
****
“Sam?” Bucky whined. “Have I turned completely hideous?” He peered into the mirror, looking for signs of wrinkles starting to form.
“No more so than usual,” Sam snarked back, not glancing up from his phone.
Bucky turned around with a giant frown on his face. Sometimes Sam was the worst. “Be nice to me, I’m having a crisis.”
Sam sighed, still not looking up. “And what crisis would that be this week?” he asked, putting his feet up on the coffee table, clearly too used to Bucky’s occasional dramatic episodes.
Bucky swore he wasn’t as bad as Sam made out. “Honestly, you are the worst roommate ever.” Bucky glared at him, flopping down next to him on the couch. He let out a long, over the top sigh. “I may or may not be trying to seduce someone and it’s not going well.”
Sam snorted, finally looking over at him. “What happened to your whole I’m done with dating, I’m not looking anymore, I’m not chasing guys anymore, if someone wants me, they can damn well work for it thing?” he said, doing a far too spot on impression of him.
Bucky glared at him again. The lack of support was so completely rude and so completely expected. “That is still in place,” he huffed, not at all dramatically. “I am not chasing this guy. I’m just trying to make him realise that he wants to chase me.”
Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Obviously. Completely different.”
Bucky crossed his arms over his chest. “It is different!”
Sam sighed, face turning slightly kinder. “So he’s not taking the bait, huh?”
“No,” Bucky pouted. “And I just…he’s so fucking hot, Sammy, you don’t understand.” Bucky went into a little daydream. Steve was so beyond hot, it might have been killing him. God, did he want him. He couldn’t remember a time he’d been so drawn to someone. Part of him even realised that it wasn’t just because Steve was godlike and gorgeous. Part of him knew that he actually really liked Steve himself, from what he’d seen so far. He was just so sweet and shy.
“My god, Barnes, you are the whiniest human I’ve ever met,” Sam groaned. “Just man up and ask him out.”
Bucky shook his head fiercely. “No. I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Sam rolled his eyes, and let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well you’ll just have to try harder then, if you’re so insistent that you couldn’t possibly ask him. And objectively speaking, you’re a very pretty man, so—”
Bucky batted his eyelashes at him. “You think I’m pretty?” He put on his best sweet and innocent face.
Sam grabbed a cushion and hit Bucky in the head with it. “I think you’re a pain in the ass and I’m gonna have to hear about this forever if you don’t do something about it,” he complained as Bucky batted the cushion away. “So just go make yourself irresistible or something.” He waved his hand in the air. “And then hopefully you’ll fall in love, move out, and I’ll at last be left in blissful, blissful peace and quiet.”
Bucky glowered at him. “Asshole.”
****
“Yeah, Steve? It’s Bucky. I seem to have locked myself out and my roommate is away on a trip and no one else has a key. Any chance you could come and let me in?”
This was a genius plan if ever he’d thought of one. Once Steve agreed and said he’d be over in thirty minutes, Bucky got himself ready. And by ready, he meant he stripped.
He stripped out of all his clothes and then wrapped a towel round his waist. The smallest towel he had. Then he watched the clock, and ten minutes before Steve was due to arrive, he in fact did lock himself out of his apartment.
Okay, so this was probably going over the top now, Bucky could admit that, but dammit, he just wanted to see Steve again. And frankly what better way to see him again than when he was in just a towel. Bucky felt damn sure Steve wouldn’t be able to resist him this time. He hoped.
Luckily for him, it was around eleven in the morning, so the apartment block was quiet. Not that he cared that much if his neighbours saw him, but still. He sighed as he waited. The longer the minutes ticked by, the more stupid he felt. This was really ridiculous. What the hell had he been thinking. No one was worth this. It was fucking cold out here. He should just break his stupid self-imposed rule and ask Steve out. Not that Steve was even remotely interested. He probably liked girls, for god’s sake. He’d really hit rock bottom, Bucky realised. He promised himself that he was done. This had definitely turned into an obsession and he had to get over it. He felt like an idiot.
Even so, his heart still pounded stupidly as he heard footsteps coming from the stairs, and he straightened up, looking hopefully towards the end of the hallway.
“Uh,” Steve uttered as he appeared and saw Bucky there.
Bucky waved. Waved. Like an idiot. “Hey, Steve,” he smiled sheepishly. Well…seeing as Steve was there and all, maybe Bucky would give this one last try.
Steve looked stunned into stillness, before he started walking towards him, dressed in another check shirt—blue this time—and his usual jeans. “Um, you didn’t say you got locked out in just a towel, I would have tried to get here quicker.”
Bucky pouted at him playfully. “Are you saying you didn’t rush for me before?”
Steve’s face turned a little pink. “No, of course not. I just…I could have run or something,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed, scratching his hair.
“I’m just kidding, thanks for coming.” Bucky tried to smile his most winning smile, not at all thinking about Steve running and getting all sweaty.
Steve shrugged. “No problem.” His eyes seemed to trail over Bucky’s chest for a moment.
Bucky felt his heart soar.
“Um, anyway,” Steve continued, looking away with a blush, “let’s get you inside.” He dug into his pocket and retrieved a key and then opened Bucky’s door.
Bucky hurried inside, with Steve stepping in after him. “Ugh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” Bucky sputtered as the warmth of his apartment hit him. He headed for the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee? I need to warm up.”
“Um, I…sure,” Steve replied, closing the door behind him. “That would be nice, thank you.”
Bucky beamed. “Great. Just give me a minute here.”
“Um, there’s no rush, if you wanted to go change?” Steve suggested, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.
Bucky looked down at himself, noticing how his nipples had hardened from the cold. “I’m fine like this,” he grinned a little naughtily.
Steve seemed to follow the look, but then his eyes seemed to fixate elsewhere and he looked a little confused suddenly. “Um, Bucky…” he started, “if you locked yourself out, but your phone is in here, how did you call me?”
Bucky froze, eyes going to where Steve had noticed his phone on their side table. Oh. Fuck. “Ummm…” He couldn’t come up with anything. His mind went blank. All he could think was shit shit shit.
Steve frowned, looking perplexed. “Did you…did you call me and then lock yourself out?” he asked slowly, like it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. Which of course it was.
Bucky didn’t know what to do. He was done for. “I, uh…” He looked at Steve nervously.
Steve’s face was changing from frowny to a little amused. “You did, didn’t you?” he said as a realisation, a strange little smile appearing on his face.
“No,” Bucky tried to cover with a scoff, but it came out weak. “It’s like a whole lot more complicated than what it seems,” he babbled, backing up nervously into the kitchen counter as Steve stepped towards him.
“Why?” Steve asked, eyes amused but puzzled.
Bucky let out a sigh. There was no getting out of this. He looked down at his feet. Dammit, Sam was right, he should have just asked Steve out in the first place. There was nothing for it but honesty now. “Iwantedtoseeyou,” he mumbled, the words spilling out as one.
Steve’s eyebrows raised. “You did?” He looked surprised. “Why?”
Bucky frowned at him now. “You’re kidding right?” He lifted a hand and gestured to Steve in general. “Have you seen you?”
Steve looked down and then back up, flustered. “Were you…flirting with me?” he seemed to realise.
Bucky grimaced. “You didn’t get that?” How could he not have gotten that? Were Bucky’s skills that rusty these days?
Steve looked incredulous now. “I…sometimes I thought…but then I thought no…” he rambled, almost to himself. “I mean, why would anyone as beautiful as you even look twice at me…” he continued, trailing off.
“I…wait, what?” Bucky sputtered as his brain caught up.
“Umm…” Steve looked caught out, like he hadn’t realised what he’d said out loud.
Bucky couldn’t help the smile that started to appear on his face. “You like me,” he realised out loud, heart suddenly pounding in amazement. He hadn’t read this wrong.
Steve rubbed his neck and looked awkward. “Well, um, you like me,” he threw back, looking self-conscious.
“You’re right about that,” Bucky shrugged, raising an eyebrow. Fuck, he was so happy, he felt like he could scream.
“So you really locked yourself out just to see me?” Steve asked, still looking like he couldn’t believe it.
“It’s romantic, right?” Bucky attempted, cringing.
Steve chuckled, seemingly fondly. “Sure,” he allowed. “Why didn’t you just say something?” he asked curiously.
Bucky shrugged, leaning away from the counter, slightly closer to Steve, putting on his best nonchalant look. “I don’t chase men.”
Steve seemed to move a little closer too. “Oh really?” he questioned, eyes bemused.
“Mmhm,” Bucky nodded, moving even nearer, drawn towards Steve like a magnet.
“So I suppose it’s up to me to make the first move then?” Steve mused, stepping even closer—so close that Bucky would only have to move an inch to touch him.
Bucky lifted his chin a little. “I guess so,” he murmured back softly, words a challenge, his heart beating double-time.
There was a stillness between them for a moment. Then Steve moved so suddenly, so fiercely, that Bucky let out a little gasp as he got pushed against the counter with the momentum as their lips finally met.
Holy Jesus, it was amazing. Incredible. Perfect. Everything Bucky had fantasised about and more. Steve pressed against him powerfully, the kiss full of fire and want and desire, the hot, wet slide of their lips making Bucky’s whole body shiver. And then Steve’s hands went into his hair and Bucky just about lost his shit.
“Mmm,” he moaned against Steve’s lips, before Steve’s tongue delved into his mouth, and damn, did it seem like Steve’s apparent shyness wasn’t a problem anymore. Bucky got lost in it.
Steve just didn’t stop. He kissed Bucky for all he was worth, leaning the curve of his mouth, figuring out what made Bucky quiver and groan for him, pressing their bodies tight together, so much so that Bucky’s exposed nipples rubbed against Steve’s shirt, sending shockwaves to his dick. It felt like every inch of him was a raw nerve-ending what with the way Steve’s mouth and hands were all over him, fitting against his body wherever they went, like they were made to be there. Like Bucky was made for him.
Eventually, but somehow far too soon, Steve broke the kiss, pulling back. Bucky was panting, licking over his lips, knowing they were red and plump, chasing the taste of Steve. He’d never in his whole life had a kiss like that. He felt like he was vibrating out of his skin.
“Fuck,” Bucky uttered, eyes wide and dark with lust. Steve looked so fucking sexy, he couldn’t even deal with it. His hair was all messed up from where Bucky had got his hands into it, and his lips were all red too, and he was gazing at Bucky with pure lust.
“Um, did I tell you that my bed is broken?” Bucky blurted.
Steve swallowed, dark eyes staring at Bucky. “It is, huh?” he replied, voice like gravel.
“Yeah, wanna come fix it for me?” Bucky gave him a sly smile, as he managed to gather himself.
Steve nodded, looking about as lustful as Bucky was feeling, following as though stalking his prey as Bucky started moving towards his bedroom. “I better take a look. Give it a thorough inspection.”
Bucky chuckled lightly. “Mmm, right this way.” He reached out and Steve took his hand, letting Bucky pull him along…
It was three months into their relationship when Steve finally realised.
Bucky was surprised he’d never figured it out before.
They were sitting on the couch, Bucky’s legs in Steve’s lap, when Steve turned to him. “Hey, Buck?” he spoke up, voice laden with suspicion. “Did you glue that window shut?”