Chapter Text
Bucky Barnes had never been in the business of backing down from a challenge and he didn't intend to begin now. But damn if Tony Stark didn't make him consider it.
"So?"
Bucky blinked at him.
"Barnes? Hello? Did I break you?" Tony glanced around the shop to find his other employees focused on their work and said to himself, "Shit. I think I broke him."
"You didn't break me, Stark. I just." Bucky waved a hand back and forth between them. "Can't believe I confused my coveralls for a mail sack."
Stark narrowed his eyes and stared Bucky down.
"I'm not your messenger boy, Tony."
"I got the reference."
"You were uncharacteristically quiet."
"You still haven't brought me coffee or pastry."
"Tony."
"Barnes."
"No."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it's your turn."
"It's my first day!"
"You're welcome."
"Ugh." Bucky grabbed the list Tony held out. "Thanks for the job, you're welcome for the pastry, I'm not helping you change that tire later."
"Come on!"
"No."
"But you don't even need a jack with that thing! It's so cool! Come on."
"It's my arm Tony!"
"And it's super cool and I'm sorry if that was insensitive please?!"
"It is super cool. Maybe."
"Great!" Tony clapped his hands together. "See you soon. Don't forget the scones."
"Chocolate chip!" Thor called from underneath the car he was working on.
"Thanks for the backup, pal."
Thor rolled out from under the car, a wide smile on his face. "We must all make the trip to Alpomado, Bucky. It's a rite of passage for Stark employees."
"It's a coffee shop. Likely with its head up its ass. Who cares."
Thor glowered. "It's delightful and I met my Jane there."
"We can't all live in a Hallmark movie, buddy. Nice meet-cute, though."
Thor grinned fit to split his face. "Aye."
***
Bucky wasn't ungrateful for his job. He'd been grateful to meet Tony at a support group for veterans with PTSD. Tony'd been an engineer, Bucky had been special forces, and neither said much more on the subject than that. Tony offered him a job at his shop once Bucky had been cleared by his physical therapist to return to work. Bucky was also grateful that Tony didn't tip toe around his arm, ever, both before and after he'd gotten the prosthetic. It was refreshing in a way Bucky hadn't anticipated. So many people filled the space his arm used to be with silence that Tony treating the absence of an arm and then his prosthetic like they were any other part of him (because, he'd realized with his therapist after a lot of struggling with it, they were) was relieving.
So, fine. He'd get Stark his fucking pour-over coffee and grass-fed bagels or whatever the fuck nonsense this place was going to serve, and move on with his life. And also, Bucky was getting the most expensive items on the menu for himself. Because ok Stark was buying but that didn't make Bucky any more eager to do the errand.
The shop is easy to spot - it's about a block away and has an obnoxious awning and outdoor seating that looks pretentious, if patio furniture can look pretentious. And the sign proclaiming Alpomado is huge and -ok fine, really gorgeously done, whoever they got to do the art.
Stepping in, Bucky is met with anything but the kind of hipster nonsense cafe he was expecting. Not because it didn't look like one on the inside as much as it did on the outside -it did- but because one of the employees was lit the fuck up and tearing into one of the customers. Bucky clearly walked in mid-rant: everyone, staff and patrons, were staring and silent and while most everyone looked over at the sound of the bell over the door (of course there was one), the employee didn't break his stride.
"What do you think you're gonna do, call my manager? I'll call my manager myself you jackass! What, you think telling them I read you the riot act and kicked you out for harassing someone is going to get me fired?!"
The patron he was yelling at had an easy six inches on the yelling employee. Which wasn't hard, the guy was kind of short, and also kind of thin, and the other guy was lean and muscular.
And taking a step towards the employee. "I think I'll get a lawyer."
The employee stepped out from behind the counter. Took several steps towards the patron. And laughed. "I would love to see you try and make that stick. Honestly. Get the fuck out. Don't come back. Because yeah, I've got a manager. They own the place. But me? I'm shift supervisor so while the owner's out? I'm in charge."
And he stood his ground. Eyes wide and angry, mouth a thin line and every inch of his thin frame coiled and ready for the next blow, verbal or physical.
The entire shop seemed to be holding its breath. It took a handful of silent moments before the patron threw his iced coffee at the employee's feet, turned, and stomped out, knocking into Bucky's shoulder on the way by. Bucky was only sorry it wasn't his metal shoulder.
The shop remained silent as the reverberation of the door slamming shut echoed. It was another employee that broke the silence.
"Man, Steve. You have got to warn us before you step out from behind the counter next time." The man didn't look ruffled despite the confrontation, he merely grabbed a bucket and mop and a "wet floor" sign and got to work.
"Sorry, Scott."
Scott threw Steve a much put-upon smile. "No, you're not."
"Nope." The employee named Steve threw a smile at his co-worker and then headed back behind the counter. There was a slim brunette with a stony expression crouched down beside a table, talking quietly to a patron.
Bucky stood observing the scene for a few more moments before shaking himself and approaching the counter. If the staff were acting as though this was business as usual, then so would he.
He stepped up to the counter, scanning the menu while trying to pull his list out of his jeans pocket. When he looked down, he was face-to-face with Steve, who was way cuter up close - big blue eyes, pouty lip and - ok Bucky was here to order food for his co-workers and also, he was covered in grease (already), even if his work jeans did do something great for his ass. He had two-day stubble and his hair was falling out of the hasty bun he'd tossed it into that morning.
Steve apparently thought he looked ok, though, because when Bucky met his eye, he blushed all the way to his ears and quietly asked what he could get Bucky. Bucky wanted to ask if he was really speaking to the guy who just tossed a customer out on his ass. And also for Steve's number but - customer out on his ass. He didn't want to ruin his chances before he'd even really had one. And he knew if Steve was single, he might have a chance, if the Bi Pride pin on Steve’s shirt was anything to go by.
So he placed his order, and handed over Stark's card.
"Oh, you're from Stark’s." Steve said.
"Yeah, just started. Apparently, that meant I was on coffee and danish duty today."
Steve blushed very, very red and said almost too quiet for Bucky to hear over the noise of the shop and the receipt printing: "Lucky me."
Bucky smiled wide; he couldn't help himself. He took his card back when Steve handed it to him, but didn't put it back in his pocket, waiting until Steve met his eye. "No, lucky me. I might have to volunteer to make the coffee runs on a regular basis. If that'd be ok by you?"
Steve smiled and stammered and agreed.
"I'm Bucky."
"Steve." Steve said, and pointed Bucky in the direction of the pick-up area with an adorable, awkward goodbye. Bucky was smitten, Steve was clearly into it, and while Bucky still had a little whiplash from watching him chew someone a new asshole and then immediately stammer at a cute guy, Bucky wasn't going to let that stop him.
***
"That place is pretty good, Stark." Bucky set down the box of pastry and the tray of coffees on a workbench. “The staff are…not what I expected.”
"So you met Steve." Natasha's smoky voice came from behind him and though Bucky didn't see it, he could hear the smile in her voice.
"What?!" Bucky really needed to work on his poker face around Natasha. She unsettled him. Not in the sense that he felt unsafe around her, just in the sense that she could somehow see through him and it was unnerving and he wanted it to stop, please. Or become best friends with her. He could use that kind of clairvoyance in his life.
"Mm." MJ poked her head around the corner from where she was posting the newest OSHA flyer and her latest drawing of Tony In Distress. "Definitely." She closed one eye and studied Bucky closely. "Yeah, he's definitely into Steve. I'm drawing you next. That was a great expression."
Bucky knew Tony had walked into the room when he squawked: "I do not look like that!"
MJ turned back to her drawing and shrugged. "Sure you do."
"No."
"Thor ate the last of the pizza you were saving in the fridge."
Tony made the exact face MJ had drawn.
She smiled, motioning to Bucky and Natasha. "See?"
"You're fired!" Tony sounded scandalized.
"No I'm not. You need me."
"Ugh. I really do though."
Bucky wasn't sure what exactly MJ did. To be fair, he'd only been there for his interview and part of the morning on his first day, but he gathered she was some kind of intern, or maybe the new office manager. Mostly, it seemed like Stark paid her to sass him.
"Do you want your coffee or not?"
Tony waltzed over and took his cup. "Gratzi. So. Steve, huh?"
"Maybe."
Tony's eyes lit up. "Yes."
"Maybe. I said about ten words to him. And he was-"
"Terrible at holding a real conversation?" Nat suggested, picking a danish from the box.
"-Flustered. Sweet. I'll ask him out. I just...want him to feel comfortable first. He seems shy."
MJ shrugged. "'Til his morality radar gets a hit, then he's a lot of righteous indignation."
"So he does that a lot, huh?" Bucky mused.
"Does what a lot?" MJ asked, half-distracted selecting a truly massive doughnut.
"When I walked in, he was yelling at some customer and threw him out."
MJ grinned. "Yeah, he does that like, all the time. Did he get punched this time?"
"Punched?"
MJ shrugged. "He gets into a lot of fights, for someone who really doesn't have any business on the business end of a fist."
Thor chose that moment to approach, picking up his caramel macchiato and a chocolate croissant. "Steven does find his way into trouble very often." He laughed. "Jane tells me they keep a tally in the kitchen of how many days in a month he has a black eye."
Tony waved Thor off. "Is it ever less than half? Point being - you're welcome. You met your future honey and discovered the truth of Alpomado's delicious food."
Bucky took a large bite of his lemon-blueberry muffin, rather than dignify Tony with a response. He hoped Tony was right about Steve being his future boyfriend, but refused to give him the satisfaction.
***
"So that guy was crazy handsome, huh?” Scott was busy sweeping up and not noticing how loud he was speaking. Maybe. He was deceptively intelligent and Steve was pretty sure that he acted that oblivious on purpose.
“What guy?” Steve busied himself wrapping up leftover pastries; the staff rotated who took the leftovers home, and this week was his turn. He’d discovered that while his landlord was a bit of an intimidating hardass, he had a massive sweet tooth. Steve tried to bring Mr. Fury leftovers whenever he could.
Scott stopped what he was doing to throw Steve a look. “Really? The brown-haired guy that came in here that made you blush just by looking at him.”
“Steve’s got a coffeeshop romance? In my coffeeshop? And here I thought it’d just be fistfights as far as the eye could see.”
Sam was back. Great. Steve loved his boss; his boss was one of his best friends. But Sam was also a Sass Master of the highest order, which was saying something.
“Mmhmm. Blushed like crazy. How can you throw someone out on their ass one minute, and then be completely tongue-tied the next? It’s wild.” Scott leaned on his broom, marveling at Steve. “You have got to teach me how to do that.”
“Shut up.”
Sam laughed. “So did you talk to him, or did you just take his order and stumble through the whole interaction?”
“We-“
“Boss, this guy is smooth. But not rude. I don’t know how he did it, I thought Steve would give him some grief, he looked like he was still riding high on his rage but one look at this guy and it was over.”
Steve glared. “Scott!” He turned to Sam. “We talked. Kind of. It was more than just…taking his order. I have game.”
Sam guffawed. “Game.” He wheezed. “You don’t have game. You have the romantic grace of a dog in rollerskates.”
“Sam!”
Scott was too busy cracking up to contribute, thank god.
“I’m just saying. It’s adorable but you trip all over yourself.”
Steve groaned.
“I mean, Steve did get his name.”
“Oh?”
Steve glared at Scott, before responding to Sam. “Bucky. His name is Bucky.”
“That is not the name of a grown-ass man.”
“You wouldn’t think so, but he’s…” Scott thought a moment. “I’m not even into dudes and I’d ask him on a date.”
Sam turned a disbelieving look on Scott. “You say that far too much for someone who’s not into dudes. Not judging, just suggesting that, you know. Maybe you think about that. Do some soul-searching.”
“I am a connoisseur of fine bone structure.”
Steve shrugged. Bucky did have ridiculous cheekbones. And like, really, really nice forearms.
“Fair enough.” Sam glanced to Steve. “Well, fingers crossed he stops in tomorrow so I can see him for myself.”
“Sam, no.” Steve sounded vaguely horrified.
“Sam, yes” Scott’s delight had him nearly vibrating in place. He was a sucker for a good rom-com, to hear his wife Hope tell it. “I’ll be on shift too, so I can let you know when he’s coming in.”
Sam laughed. “Perfect. Man, this might be two romances in one coffeeshop. These grounds must be blessed by the Hallmark deities or something.”
“Was that a coffee pun?” Scott mused.
Sam high-fived Scott with a ‘Hell yes!’ and Steve (gently) banged his head against the countertop, and resigned himself to his fate.
***
Sure enough, Bucky made an appearance at Alpomado’s the next morning. Scott didn’t even need to nudge Sam, because one look at Steve’s face and Sam knew.
“Oh shit.” Sam muttered under his breath in Steve’s ear. “Scott wasn’t kidding.”
“Shut up.” Steve hissed.
Sam smiled a mile wide and made a ‘locking and throwing away the key’ gesture. Steve didn’t believe him for a moment.
Especially because even though Steve was supposed to be at the register, Sam stepped that way instead and shooed Steve towards the display and pick-up counter. Steve would have the chance to talk to Bucky, now. There was no one behind him in line and Steve would be the one to make and hand Bucky his order. He was pretty sure he’d freak out too much about seeming socially adept to actually be socially adept. What was his life.
And then Bucky was in front of him and Steve had an order ticket in need of filling.
“Hi Steve.” Bucky’s voice was. Wow. The way his name sounded in Bucky’s mouth made Steve pretty sure he wanted to wrap himself up in that voice more.
Bucky was waiting for a response. Shit. “Uh – h-hi. Hey. Bucky. Hi. Good morning.”
Bucky smiled wide, like Steve stuttering like a teenager made his whole morning. “Hey. You look nice today.”
Steve glanced down. Required black slacks, solid-color Alpomado’s shirt, and his apron with two pins: his bi pride pin that he wore every day, and another he rotated on the daily. Today, it was his RBG Dissent Collar pin. “Yeah? Thanks.”
“Yeah. I like the pin.”
Steve’s heart leapt, hopeful, as he handed over Bucky’s order. He tried (and, he thought, failed) to sound nonchalant. “Which one?”
Bucky collected his order, winked at Steve, and said before turning to go: “Both.”
Steve blushed. He blushed so hard.
“Damn, Steve. Scott wasn’t kidding.” Steve hadn’t noticed Sam approach and lean against the display case. “And he seems interested.” Sam wiggled his eyebrows.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Sam played innocent.
“Don’t do that thing where you try to set us up.”
Sam meant well, but Steve – well, Steve was the problem. He was too shy (except when he wasn’t) and had a perfect record for fucking up every conversation with a handsome guy.
Sam held out his pinky. “Promise I won’t.”
Steve hooked his pinky finger with Sam’s and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Maria will do it.” Sam nodded behind Steve, where indeed, Maria had just wandered up from back-of-house where she’d been doing the weekly accounting and inventory.
“What’ll I do?” She narrowed her eyes at Sam, all too aware of his schemes, between five years of co-owning Alpomado’s and seven years of marriage.
“Help Steve talk to his soulmate.”
Maria smiled, Cheshire-like and nodded, all too happy to help despite having exactly zero details.
“He’s not my soulmate!” Steve threw his hands up and pushed away from the counter. “Also, this conversation is way too loud. Someone’s gonna hear.”
“Someone has heard.”
Oh shit. That was MJ. And she was smiling. Steve never remembered anything good happening when she smiled like that.
“MJ.”
“Steve.”
“Don’t say anything. Please.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You want to pine away in silence when you could instead go on a date with him?”
“MJ.”
She sighed. “Fine. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I heard nothing. Say what about what? I certainly don’t know.”
“Thank you.”
She hummed. “Yeah. You’re buying my danish today.”
Steve stared her down for only a moment before throwing up his hands in defeat. “Fine.”