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Steve didn’t know what happened. He was just standing in the crowd, swaying gently to the music, when the front man caught his eye. Not for the first time that night, but certainly for the last. He honestly didn’t know how the man spotted him amongst the large(ish) group of people. He was smaller then almost everyone else.
And yet, somehow the guy saw him. The guy with an old top hat crookedly sitting on his head, and his stained vest and smolder-y grin. He looked so hot up there. Steve could hardly catch his breath. What, with the man’s sweat making his body glisten and his eyeliner making his eyes wide and gorgeous.
Nat called the man Bucky, with a knowing grin. Apparently she knew him from Russia. They had been childhood friends, and eventually both moved to America. At different times though. It’s only now they’ve just caught up.
Normally Steve would be congratulating her on finding her long lost friend, maybe even compliment on how good a singer the guy was. But he couldn’t. Why?
Bucky just winked at him.
Suddenly, he very much couldn’t breathe. Definitely. Shit.
He made some embarrassing noise to Nat and pointed toward the outside door. Thankfully, since the bar was small, the door to the back alley was literally right there.
So he went outside and leaned against the wall. He grabbed his inhaler, inhaled the medicine twice, and just tried to breathe.
He didn’t know how long he stood there. He listened to the sounds of the city, watched the city lights. Was promptly ignored by people walking out into the alley to either smoke or make out. It was all fine by him. As long as he could breathe again.
“You good man?”
Steve looked up. He had to make himself breathe.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He told Bucky. The man grinned, much like he was doing on the stage, and took out a cigarette. He lit it up, and leaned against the wall. He took a few breaths of it, before turning to Steve again.
“You left pretty quick. I hope the music wasn’t that bad.” Bucky said, his grin now my self-deprecating then anything else.
“No, ‘course not. I uh—couldn’t breathe. Too many people, I’m too small of a guy. Mosh pits don’t work out for me too well.” Okay, now his own tone had taken on some self-deprecation.
Bucky frowned, before turning around and putting out his smoke against the wall. “Jeez. Why are you here then? You shouldn’t be if you…” he didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. Steve instantly went on the defense.
“I can handle myself just fine. Natasha knows I can; that’s why she brought me.” He found himself grinning almost prideful-ly. After all, Nat could be a mother hen. If she thinks he can handle something, then more then likely he can.
“Nat? Natalia? Oh yeah, I saw you beside her…are you her boyfriend?” Bucky asked. There was something different to his smile now. Something Steve couldn’t place.
“What? No! Just friends. Besides, she’s dating Clint. And I’d hate to screw that up.”
“Oh yeah, that’s what the dude’s name was…do you have a girlfriend? Boyfriend?” He was definitely probing now. And Steve had a hint as to why.
He couldn’t stop from smiling, as he answered, “Neither. Yet.”
Bucky’s grin became soft and he said, “Good to know.”
*
Ten minutes later, one of Bucky’s band-mates and Natasha caught them making out like teenagers in the alley.
Steve almost had an asthma attack two more times that night.
Nat wouldn’t stop teasing him about it for weeks.