Work Text:
“Hi, my name’s Bucky. What can I help you with today?”
“Hi, I’m Peter.” He blushed. Really, Peter didn’t need anything, but he wanted an excuse to hang around the beauty department—the guy behind the counter was ridiculously cute. “Maybe some aftershave or something? I don’t really know.”
The man grinned, “Okay. I prefer this one myself. I’ll give you a sample. You see if you like it.”
“Okay,” Peter agreed. He held out his wrist, and Bucky dropped a bit of the liquid on his skin.
“It’s peppermint,” Bucky explained. “Some guys don’t like the sting, but it’s very refreshing.”
“Oh shit,” Peter grimaced, wiping his wrist off on his jeans in a panic. “I’m allergic to peppermint.”
“Seriously? Do I need to call an ambulance? Do you need an EpiPen? Is it really bad?”
Peter’s skin burned, and the rash started to form almost instantly. “Don’t uhm, worry about it. Totally not your fault. I should’ve mentioned it… I’m just gonna go now.”
“No way, man. Your arm,” Bucky pointed. “It’s already blistering.”
“No, it looks worse than it actually is. Trust me,” Peter assured. “It’s just a contact allergy.”
“It’s not just anything. That looks bad.”
Peter shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’m just gonna go.”
“You said your name was Peter, right? Hold on. Let me get someone to cover me.”
“What, no that’s completely unnecessary. I promise you it’s fine. It happens all the time.”
Bucky shook his head. “Wait here a second.”
Peter did as he was told, waiting for Bucky to return to the counter. He resisted scratching his arm, even though the sensation was unbearable.
After a few minutes, Bucky returned with another employee. The girl took Bucky’s spot behind the counter.
“Okay, there’s a pharmacy a few stores down,” the man explained. “I don’t know what you need…Benadryl, or calamine lotion. Whatever. It’s on me.”
“I—”
“Stop,” Bucky interrupted. “Not another word.” He took Peter’s hand and brought it up to examine the damage done to his wrist. “Does it hurt?”
Peter’s stomach flipped when Bucky grabbed his arm. “It’s ugly. Don’t look at it up close.”
Bucky scoffed. “I don’t care if it’s ugly. I care that I caused it. We’re trained to ask if customers have any allergies, and I fucked up. Don’t sue me, please. By the way.”
“Years of academy training, wasted,” Peter joked, laughing while he walked beside Bucky out of the department store and into the mall. “I promise I won’t,” he added.
“Probably a bad time, and I’m not trying to victim blame…but you were very distracting,” Bucky admitted.
“You were the one who distracted me. I should’ve mentioned an allergy, but I was sort of just excited that you were talking to me?”
Bucky grinned, “If you wanted to lure me away from work, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to get a rash over it.”
“I’ll remember that next time.”