Work Text:
Steve's dialogue is in italics
Natasha's is in bold
Bucky's is in underline
There is a universal consensus that school sucks. Even Steve Rogers - a would-be straight A student if it wasn't for the incalculable number of days he stayed at home, tucked up in bed and desperately trying not to cough his lungs out - could agree with this.
However, Fate threw him a metaphorical bone in the form of the very attractive new kid who walked into his homeroom earlier like a breath of fresh air. It can be agreed that nobody looks their best first thing on a Monday but as clichéd as it sounds, the new kid looked like a model. Steve's artistic eye paid attention to the casual rumpled look he sported with hair that could only be explained as accident-on-purpose bedhead and a shirt that showed off a flat and toned stomach. Still dragging his eyes down the brunet's body - holy shit those legs, Steve thought - he looked up to his teacher asking the new kid to introduce himself. With an easy grin, he spoke about himself with the air of someone who's done introductions many a time. He was apparently called James, "but call me Bucky" and he had moved to New York from Bulgaria, thanks to his father's work.
Introduction finished, the bell for first lesson rang and the gaggle of caffeinated teenagers spilled out of the room for their class, Steve making a detour to pick up his maths textbook from his locker. Luckily, the teacher had yet arrived when Steve ran into his room, fearing tardiness and an asthma attack. Slipping into his seat, Steve noticed Bucky was in his class, a small gift to help him with the tedium of triangles and theorems. He watched Bucky settle himself in a free chair three seats away from him to the left and turned his head towards his best friend, a fierce Russian redhead who could probably kill you with her thighs but would also watch trashy Netflix films with you at 3am drunk. With the silent look that only best friends have, the message shared between he and Natasha was, "holy shit!"
With the teacher's arrival, conversation was out of the question and in an attempt to look like both were paying attention, they opened their textbooks and scribbled a few notes down. With hand flat on the table, Steve began to tap.
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The new guy is so hot.
Natasha tapped lightly to reply.
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I know right, he looks so good. I hope he's not straight.
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Are you trying to set me up with him, Romanoff?
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I'm trying to get you a date with the new kid who looks like a model.
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With a cute butt.
It was at this point Steve noticed tapping that wasn't coming from either him or Natasha. Instead, it was coming from Bucky. Face burning bright, Steve stared at Bucky's hand.
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You have a pretty cute butt as well.
Mortified, Steve turned round to Natasha who was violently biting at her lip in an attempt to not burst out laughing. With a scowl, Steve angled his body towards Bucky.
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How the hell do you know morse code?
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Perks of being an army brat. If you'd prefer, we can talk in Hungarian. But I digress. Do you want to go get milkshakes after school with me?
Steve smiled at Bucky, a real smile that wrinkles the face in mirth.
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So long as I get to pick the jukebox song.
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Punk.
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Jerk.