Work Text:
It's been about 6 months since Steve said yes to the job of his dreams. 6 months since he moved into the nice, little apartment in the middle of Brooklyn. 6 months since he started a whole new life.
And is was about 5 months ago that Steve's kitchen stove broke down and left him without lunch. 5 months since Steve's friendly neighbour told him about a cosy café just down the street. 5 months since Steve first set his foot in the café, and have come back daily ever since then.
Today was no exception. It was about quarter past 10 when Steve entered the café, ordered his usual coffee and apple pie and took the same seat in the corner that he always took.
The roomy café was unusually crowded; tourist season was about to start and the early birds had already started making their appearance all across town.
Steve placed his sketchpad and pencils next to his coffee cup on the table and leaned back in his chair to take in his surroundings. The large windows facing the sidewalk let in plenty of light, filling the café with a nice morning glow. Islands of tables and chairs were spread out all through the café and comfortable couches lined the inner wall. The wall itself was decorated with different paintings made by local artists (it may or may not be Steve's secret dream to one day be featured on that particular wall)
At 11 sharp, the bell above the door jingled and Steve's breath got caught in his throat, just as it had the past three weeks every time that man stepped through the door.
It was the way he ran his hand through his hair to get it out of his face, the way his eyes always met Steve's stare with a slight twinkle, the way his leatherjacket clung to his shoulders, the smile that played on his lips every time the barista gave him his coffee (black, no sugar. Not that Steve had memorized it or anything...), the way he sat down right across the café, the perfect spot for Steve to now and then *stare* at him.
But not today. The café was packed; there were only a few free chairs here and there. This left the mysterious man standing hesitative by the bar desk, looking for a place to sit. His eyes suddenly met Steve’s lingering ones.
‘Oh, okay, he’s looking at me, what do I do?! Do I smile? Yep, let’s try with a smile. Oh shit, he looked away, what if I scared him with that toothy grin? No, wait, he’s smiling. OH GOD, do I have something between my teeth?!?’
Steve was so busy looking like a normal human being while swishing coffee around in his mouth to rid any possible pieces of pie, that he didn’t notice the presence beside him until someone cleared their throat.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
Steve almost chocked on the coffee when he was met by the most intense grey eyes he’d ever seen.
“Nono, please, have a seat!”
In the rush to make room on the table, Steve threw half of his pencils on the floor, causing the brown-haired man to let out a slight chuckle.
“Wow, easy there” the man said as he grabbed a couple of pencils and handed them back to Steve. “And thanks for the chair. There are an awful lot of people here, isn’t it? I’m Bucky by the way”
“Yeah, tourists…” Steve gave the man, apparently called Bucky, a slight smile that was something more than apologetic. “I’m Steve”
After both men did some sort of weird handshake-wave-fist bump-greeting, an awkward silence fell over the two. It was not until Bucky finished his coffee and got up to leave that either of them spoke.
“Well thank you for the company” Bucky said as he reached for his jacket. “I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah, nice to meet you! Good bye!” Steve said, cringing slightly at how enthusiastic he sounded.
* * * * *
Despite the first awkward meeting, Steve and Bucky continued to sit next by the same table as the café got more and more crowded by tourists. And as the days passed, they got more and more comfortable with each other, talking about their lives and thoughts about it.
Steve told Bucky about his happy childhood, his time in the army and about his ambitions as an artist. (After lots of nagging, Steve reluctantly showed a few of his sketches toBucky, who at least pretended to be impressed)
Steve learned that Bucky recently moved to Brooklyn because of a promotion, the story about how he lost his arm (because he apparently had a fucking metal arm, how Steve managed not to notice that will forever be a mystery) and about how he grew up in Russia. Since that day, Steve always greeted him with a ‘dobroye utro’, making him smile and roll his eyes.
Steve and Bucky got along so well, this became a daily routine. A pretty good daily routine. And tourist season was almost over and the café startedto gradually get less and less crowded again, yet Bucky kept sitting by Steve’s table. Maybe they got along really well, like more-than-friends-well? Maybe it could be something more, maybe Bucky felt the same way?
Steve was lost in these thoughts one morning when he as usual walked into the café and ordered his coffee. Just as he was about to pay, there was a voice behind him.
“This one is on me”
Steve turned around; only go face a brightly smiling Bucky.
“Bucky, uh, hi? No need for that though, really, I can pay for myself, no problem. But what are you doing here so early anyway?”
“I’m here to pay for your food" Bucky said before his smile grew into a full smirk. "If I didn’t, this wouldn’t be out first official date, would it?!