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    Summary

    “Hey handsome,” he called over the music at Bucky who looked over his shoulder at whoever was trying to get his attention. The raised eyebrows eased and Steve was sure he saw him rolling his eyes good-naturedly before he turned around fully, one of the dish towels hanging nonchalantly over his left shoulder, hiding the spot where normally an arm would be.

    “What can I do for my favorite customer?” Bucky asked, an easy smile on his lips as he leaned a bit closer, bracing his weight with his right hand on the counter.

    “Shh, don’t blurt it out like this or the people might get jealous.”

    Steve hated how much he loved this. He couldn’t even say when these banters between them started. One day Steve was helping Dugan paint the walls and then there Bucky was in all his glory, his laugh carrying through the nearly empty pub as he arrived with Sam calling for Steve’s full attention. There was a certain familiarity with Bucky that he couldn’t completely shake, as if Steve should know who he was.

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