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~ =★= ~
Valentine’s Day. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for his roommate. Mister Steve Artist Scholarship, Free Ride, Fucking Asshole, Hipster Shitbag, Rogers. For the most part, Bucky Barnes could ignore his roommate. He stayed on his side of the dorm room – which may as well have been a masturbatory aid for the amount of awards, framed art, and shit that he hung up on the wall – and Bucky stayed on his. But Venereal Disease Day was the worst.
The college they attended had a tradition to turn Singles Awareness Day into a sort of Sadie Hawkins tradition. There was a dance, some other social events, and he was sure there was a fraternity/sorority party that Rogers would be going to at night. The college they attended was one of those arty, hippie schools, so Steve? Steve was like a god here. Good riddance, frankly, if Steve went out tonight. It would give him one night to just relax, listen to music, and do his own thing without the slender man making a nuisance of himself.
What was once the side of the dorm filled with banners, trophies, and other self-flotation, was now filled with carnations, chocolates, pink and red stuffed animals, and even a few bras or panties. Bucky swore up and down that it wasn’t jealousy as he sat on his bed, hunched in the corner with his laptop on his knees. It absolutely was not envy that filled him as he watched Steve schmooze with another dame at the door. She’d given him a box of Godiva chocolate, and a little homemade coupon book filled with sexual favours. They didn’t even know the punk was both allergic to nuts, and lactose intolerant. Idiots.
“Now, Angie,” Steve was purring, fucking purring at the brunette woman on the other side of the door. She was smiling confidently up at Steve, leaning in a way on their doorframe that exposed her, ahem, assets.
“Thanks for this, but you should know m’goin’ t’the dance stag. I can’t choose between my best girls,” Steve soothed. Bucky suppressed a snort and ducked deeper behind his laptop. He didn’t want to see another disappointed face on a nice girl that deserved way better than Steve. After a few more soft words were exchanged and what Bucky was sure was a kiss on the cheek, the door closed and Steve let out a weary sigh.
“Must be so hard to turn down so many dates,” Bucky drawled. He may have disliked Steve for all that he stood for, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give the guy shit as he slumped down on his own bed. He flipped the box of chocolate over and started to read the ingredients list. Bucky knew the moment Steve read something along the lines of may contain nuts or milk because he grunted and dropped the box down on top of the no pile.
“You got no idea, Buck,” Steve muttered, dramatically draping his arm over his eyes. His other hand settled on top of his chest, fingers idly moving over the dog tags under his shirt. Bucky knew from stalking Steve’s Facebook profile that they were his father’s. The guy had been a Captain deployed during the Gulf War, and he hadn’t come home, leaving Steve to be raised alone by his mother.
“Sure, pal. No idea,” he muttered. Truthfully, Bucky didn’t. Steve was a looker. He was slender in a way that made him cute, but he was decked out in tattoos and piercings that made him extra appealing to the girls at their campus. Not that Bucky wasn’t attractive. His hair was long enough to be pulled into a bun, and due to laziness and lack of funds to buy new razors often, he was usually on the scruffier side. But that wasn’t the sort of man that the dames and even the guys here found attractive. Whatever. He was fine being alone. It’d be nice if he was more alone without Steve in the room.
As he pushed his laptop onto the bed and swung his legs over the side, another knock came on the door. He rolled his eyes and stood, just as Steve stood too. Steve’s baby blue eyes were up on him, his long eyelashes dusting his cheeks when he blinked. He could feel how warm Steve’s body was near his own, and Bucky felt a thrum of adrenaline slide through his veins. Steve swallowed hard, pierced pink tongue bathing his equally pink, and also pierced lips as they stood there. Boldly, Steve’s hand was lifting, fingers just barely brushing the lapel of Bucky’s unbuttoned shirt.
It was like every fancy coming to life. Much as he consciously grumbled about Steve’s appearance and popularity, the guy featured in a lot of Bucky’s fantasies. He’d walked in on Steve before, because heaven forbid Steve put a sock on the door like a normal person. But… Bucky had seen what all that pale, inked-up skin could do when it was put to work, and he hadn’t been able to get the mental image out of his mind. What Steve didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, but now, as they stood so close together, Bucky felt like his sins were written plainly across his face.
Bucky watched as Steve’s eyes flicked down to his mouth, and then back up. Steve’s pupils were blown wide, as he licked his mouth again. It was god damn sinful. Bucky felt himself ducking down a little, to the point where he could feel Steve’s warm breath against his chin.
The knock sounded on the door and both men jumped back from one another, Steve toppling over his no pile and into his bed. Bucky coughed hard as he watched those lean limbs flail out in every which direction to break the fall.
“Y-you better get the door,” Bucky managed to whisper before bolting for the bathroom and locking the door before him. He pressed his back to the door hard, eyes closed as he covered his face with both hands. What the hell had just happened…?
~ =☆= ~
The Sadie Hawkins dance was miserable. It was too loud, and dark, and while he did not care at all that people enjoyed being all about free love, he didn’t want to see it, exactly. His best friends were sharing one chair. Natalia had her hands in Barton’s hair, and Clint had handfuls of Nat’s ass. God, he needed a drink. Why the hell had he let his friends talk him in to coming to this stupid thing? Oh, because Nat had asked him, and he wasn’t supposed to say no when a girl asked him.
He got up, the scratch of the chair on the ground lost to the steady, deep beat of the music. His friends didn’t notice at all as he left the table to try and make his way to the bar. He absently scanned the dance floor, and felt like someone had dumped a sack of bricks on his head. He caught eyes with Steve from across the floor without even trying. He had an arm draped over the back of a vacant chair, a beer hanging off his fingers and his other hand settled on the table. Bucky stopped dead, eyes trailing to Steve’s mouth. He could just barely catch the glint of metal from this distance.
The electric moment from earlier in the day played out in perfect detail in his mind’s eye, but this time, it didn’t end with a knock on the door. This time, he dug his hand into Steve’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss, at the same time that Steve yanked him down by his collar to do the same. Before he realized it, his feet were steering him in the opposite direction of the bar. He was heading for Steve’s table. Fuck. But he couldn’t stop.
And it seemed like Steve was game, too. He was standing up, draining the remainder of his beer and rounding his table. He met Bucky halfway on the dance floor, a hand coming up to lay flat on his chest before his fingers ended up in Bucky’s hair. Without a single word exchanged, Steve pressed flush against Bucky’s body and began to move in time to the music. Any rational thought just poured right out of Bucky’s ears along with his brain as Steve rolled his body against him, swaying in a way that should have been impossible for a man with a bad back. Bucky’s hands reflexively grasped onto Steve’s hips, and began to follow Steve’s movements.
They danced for hours, never exchanging a word. Steve moved in Bucky’s arms like a serpent, pressing everything from their chests to their knees together before swaying away again. At some point, Bucky’s shirt was unbuttoned again, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the man he had his hands on. It was nearly midnight by the time Steve curled an arm around his neck, lips parted. He hadn’t had anything to drink other than the beer before they’d come together on the floor, but he looked positively drunk. Had he taken some drugs or something?
“Buck,” he hummed softly, close enough to Bucky’s chin that he could feel the word more than hear it. The goop of Bucky’s brain on the floor caught fire as Steve pulled him down to kiss him. It was a hard, sloppy thing, all tongue and teeth and desperation. But Bucky wasn’t about to stop him. His arms wrapped tighter around Steve’s slender back, holding him tight as he kept pace, flushed to be kissing anyone in the middle of a dance floor. As the kiss continued, Bucky started to care less and less.
The kiss ended too soon as far as Bucky was concerned, though it ended with Steve nipping and tugging at his bottom lip. He smiled, dazed, up at Bucky as his fingers wandered over the necklace around Bucky’s neck. A simple, black leather cord with a red star hanging from it. Without a word, Steve plucked it off Bucky’s neck, and put it around his own. In the following movement, he pulled his dog tags off and looped them over Bucky’s head.
“Steve, no,” he whispered, even as Steve tucked them under his shirt and pat where they lay on his chest. Steve’s smile was small, fingers brushing against the hidden chain.
“Consider it an investment. I’ll take ‘em back when you’re mine,” he said easily, his voice filled with such promise. It made Bucky’s heart clench, amongst other things. He covered Steve’s hand on his chest and leaned down for another kiss, but Steve stopped him with the pads of his fingers on his lips.
“Later."
~ =★= ~