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The Winter Bash is a charity event hosted by SHIELD Inc each year so Bucky had thought that Brock was serious when he said they would go together. Brock had given some speech about mending old ways and proving to everyone that they could put the past behind them in the name of supporting a better cause and all that. Bucky guesses he was so caught up in the immense shock of it all that he didn’t even attempt to vet Brock’s sincerity.
But now he’s sitting at a table alone while he watches Natasha and Clint dance and watches T’Challa and Nakia dance and watches Tony and Pepper dance and watches Scott and Hope dance and watches Carol and Maria dance and so on and so forth until he is sure he is the only one in this entire joint that feels like this much of a lonely fool.
It’s not that he wants to dance with Brock anyway. He doesn’t. He just wants to not be stood up and made to look like an idiot. He’s thirty-five. He thought they were past this kind of petty behavior. But it’s obvious by now that Brock has no intention of showing up tonight. Bucky isn’t even sure why he fell for the idea that someone like Brock would give a damn about a charity event anyway. It was strictly a prank to make Bucky look bad, a childish insult.
Bucky’s lost in his thoughts when Natasha startles him by coming and leaning across the table. One hand is back behind her holding onto Clint’s. The other is pushing a drink toward Bucky and she has this glint in her eye that he knows all too well.
“James...” she says. She sounds so happy, so smug. And she should be. She’s in a wonderful relationship and she’s the best dancer in the place tonight (no matter how much better Tony thinks he is with every passing drink).
“Hmm?” Bucky asks, looking up at her, worried about whatever plan she has cooked up now.
“I have this idea for you, which you don’t have to do, but I feel like you should try though because it could potentially help you here-“
“What idea?” He covers his face with his hand in advance.
“Just ask someone already here. Just anyone. Just for fun.”
Bucky’s brow furrows beneath his hand.
“They’re here with dates,” he mumbles.
“So what?” she challenges. “Just ask anyone. You’re not asking them out. It’s just a dance, James. Don’t let that asshole ruin it for you. You love dancing.”
That is so true that it hurts. Bucky loves dancing. He’ll never be as good as Natasha is, but he will dance till his damn feet fall off.
“I hadn’t really expected Brock to wanna dance with me anyway. Not more than once.”
Natasha pushes the glass closer to him-liquid courage- and waves her hand at his words.
“Don’t mention him. Don’t say his name. This night is about you now.”
Bucky groans and drops his hand.
“So okay-“ she smirks at him, “a challenge.”
Bucky isn’t like a lot of people. He can resist a challenge. He doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone. But he is miserable and embarrassed sitting here alone so he looks at her kind of resigned.
“Yeah?”
“The next person who walks through that door. No matter who they are. You’ve gotta dance with them. Or ask them to dance.”
“Just put yourself out there, man.” That’s Clint chiming in now. Great. They’re ganging up on him.
“Look, if you ask someone and they seriously turn you down,” Natasha assures, “I’ll dance with you, alright?”
Bucky looks at Natasha and Clint. They are genuinely trying to help so he sucks in a breath and goes, “Yeah, alright.”
“Serious efforts only!” Clint adds. “You gotta go for it.”
Bucky nods. He did not put on his nice suit and tie his hair back in this neat bun and wear these brand new shiny shoes to sit here all night alone.
Besides, he’s wearing expensive cologne because he put some actual effort into the event. It’s for fucking charity.
Bucky looks at the door and feels the fear of it opening start sinking into his heart and soul. He didn’t prepare for this.
“You’ve got this,” Natasha says before she spins back around to Clint and the two saunter back toward the dance floor.
Bucky sits at the table with his eyes laser focused on the door. Most people are already here and the only people coming in at this point are the catering and AV staff going back and forth. He would ask one of them, but he doesn’t want to get one of them in trouble while they’re on the clock.
Maybe Pietro will walk in. Bucky knows absolutely nothing about him except that he’s from Sokovia. He could at least get to know someone he doesn’t already have preconceived notions about.
There’s also a new girl at work named Sharon who is now the boss’s secretary. She seems sweet whenever she speaks to Bucky, but he doesn’t know much else about her. He did kind of expect that she would be here and he hasn’t seen her. But if she did join the bash, Bucky would take his chances and ask her to dance.
The door opens and Bucky holds his breath, but it’s just someone carrying another tray of assorted fruits.
Bucky hasn’t allowed himself to eat more than one small plate of cheese and fruit. He refuses to be the guy that comes to the dance, sits alone, and pigs out on all the food.
He has a momentary panic that Jack will walk through the door next. Jack is Brock’s best friend and the last thing he wants to do is have to ask Jack to dance. In fact, he straight up would back out of the deal he made with Natasha in order to avoid it. Besides, Jack would turn him down and then report back to Brock how funny it had been that Bucky had asked in the first place. Natasha probably wouldn’t hold Bucky to the deal anyway.
But Jack isn’t who walks through the door.
Bucky watches as the door opens again. Instinctively, he sits up a little straighter and his eyes shoot over to see who comes through. It isn’t Pietro and it isn’t Sharon.
Bucky looks over to Natasha instantly.
“No,” he mouths as she giggles into Clint’s shoulder. He mimes putting a gun in his mouth and she gives him the finger in retaliation.
Bucky would have never guessed, but apparently sitting at a table in the shadows off to the side of the dance hall is the best way to be noticed because the man strides right up to his table and puts on a charming smile.
“Yucky Barnes,” he says all of a sudden and Bucky looks up with a mock glare.
“Spam Wilson.”
“You look alone, buddy,” Sam says stating the obvious.
“You look alone too, man. What’s with that?”
“Oh no,” Sam counters. “Riley just got stopped talking to Rhodey outside. I would never come to this kind of thing without a dance partner.”
Bucky makes a miserable expression and pulls out a chair for Sam.
Sam takes it and moves in a bit closer.
“I agreed to come with Brock Rumlow.”
“You did not.” Sam actually pulls back to really look at Bucky in shock. “Tell me I’m hearing things.”
Bucky shakes his head, hating every bit of the admittance. “He said he wanted to fix the petty feud we’ve had going for years. I thought he was serious. The dance is for a charity, Sam. Who makes up lies about supporting a charity?”
“He made up lies about his military career that time,” Sam reminds.
“He was trying to outdo me that time. This is different!”
“Apparently not.”
Riley walks through the door and looks around so Sam waves at him to get his attention.
“So Natasha told me that I have to ask the next person who walks in to dance.”
“And it was me?” Sam asks. He actually sounds open to dancing with Bucky, but Bucky knows Sam came to dance with his fiancé, not the guy he spends all day one cubicle away from.
“Yeah. Lucky me.”
“Riley and I will dance with you. We’ll take turns spinning you around, occasionally grabbing your ass inappropriately.”
Bucky laughs at that.
“No, it’s fine. Natasha’s already offered too. Maybe later?”
Sam pats his shoulder. He picks on Bucky all day, but there’s also no one else at the office that he would actually break people’s skulls for messing with so Bucky considers himself on a very short, elite list of Sam’s real friends.
He waves politely at Riley as he reaches the table and then sends Sam off to dance with him as Bucky again locks eyes on the center of the double doors and waits for one of them to open.
It’s a long wait.
It’s a good four songs later when Natasha taps Clint and murmurs something to him. They both glance over at Bucky who is still watching the door resolutely.
Then Bucky sits up completely stiff with a look of sheer panic on his face.
Clint and Natasha’s eyes follow Bucky’s gaze to the door and then both burst out laughing.
Walking through the door with all the authority and regality of a crown monarch is the CEO and acting director of SHIELD.
Bucky is pretty sure he actually gulps just like a cartoon. His eyes trail from the floor up just taking her in. Everything about Director Carter is stunning and terrifying at once.
He once flirted with her, back before he had known who she was and when he had only been employed with SHIELD for a week. Her name was just a name on a piece of paper to him at the time and she had walked into the break room while he and Sam had been bonding over some particularly awful pastries and discussing a new club that had just opened. They wanted to go. Bucky, like a fool, invited her when she walked into the room in the middle of their conversation. Sam had turned around and nearly spilled his Powerade on himself.
She had been perfectly nice about it. She told him there was a rule about the supervisors getting too close to the other employees outside of work and then introduced herself as the head of the company. He had nothing to be embarrassed about, but he still was and he was four years removed from the situation.
Director Carter walks in with elegance and poise and Sharon, her new secretary, walks in behind her. Maybe that was Bucky’s cue. He couldn’t ask the CEO. There were rules and even though this wasn’t technically “outside of work,” he thinks the rule about getting too close to employees probably still applies.
He waits a beat, makes sure no one follows Sharon in. She’s young and blonde and Bucky would put her more in the “cute” category than the “pretty” one, but that’s perfectly fine. He has nothing to lose but quality dancing time (and a little dignity if she turns him down).
He takes a deep breath, takes a final drink of the cocktail Natasha had pushed his way earlier, and stands up.
Natasha catches his eye and smirks at him. She knows Sharon and she knows Bucky and clearly she doesn’t think this is a completely awful idea. That’s encouraging at least.
Bucky straightens his suit and watches as Sharon falls back a little from Director Carter. She turns to speak to Mr. Fury and Maria, the office duo that Director Carter always leaves in charge when she takes extended business trips and so Bucky walks past the CEO but holds back near the refreshments table. He doesn’t want to interrupt Sharon’s first conversation the moment after she walks through the door.
“James!” comes a voice.
English, proper, impossible to ignore.
He turns to see Director Carter looking straight at him.
“Don’t you look incredibly dashing tonight,” she comments. Bucky smiles.
“Thank you.”
He’s about to return the compliment when she fixes him with a warm look.
“You here alone?”
“My date cancelled,” he admits. He’s much more willing to say that than to confess that he was expecting to meet Brock Rumlow here and the douchebag stood him up.
“Ah,” she says and gives the appropriate empathetic face before tilting her head just a little. Dark brown curls brush her shoulder.
“It’s okay. Wasn’t a serious date anyway.”
“Oh?” her eyes light up with the single word. “Would it be too presumptuous of me to assume you wouldn’t mind sharing a dance or two with our newest hire?”
Bucky’s brow wrinkles briefly and then from behind Director Carter someone says,
“Peggy, no, please. I can’t dance.”
Bucky’s eyes dart to the owner of that particularly dreamy baritone.
He knows that his face probably spaces completely, but his mind also went completely blank at the sight of the man who had walked in behind the director. He isn’t small or meek looking. Nothing about him suggests anyone ever overlooks him- broad shoulders and biceps that Bucky wants to run his hands up, particularly without the suit between his hands and the warm skin. He is tall with dark blond hair and dressed like he‘s going to the Academy Awards. He looks like a spotlight should have followed him into the room. All eyes should be on him. And he had somehow managed to walk up behind Director Carter and stand there without Bucky ever taking note. How had Bucky just missed this happening?
“Why are you staring at me?” the man laughs nervously. “You don’t have to take her seriously.”
“I’d- I’d love to,” Bucky sputters immediately. He flashes the man a charming smile.
Director Carter turns between the two men.
“I’m Bucky Barnes,” Bucky says. He will forever he grateful that he doesn’t extend his hand for a handshake. Instead, he extends his hand, palm up, and offers it gently forward, an invitation.
“Steve Rogers,” comes the reply. Steve’s eyes flick down to the hand being offered and then smoothly he reaches back and slides his hand into Bucky’s easy grip.
“Steve’s just joined SHIELD as the new marketing head,” Director Carter comments. She looks at Steve with an easy smile, “James,” she starts and then corrects herself, “Bucky is the head of product development.”
“Great to meet you.” Even Steve’s eyes smile when he says it and Bucky’s pretty sure it’s all sincerity. He also plans to melt into that voice for the rest of the evening if it is in any way at all possible.
“You as well,” Bucky returns. “Would you care to dance?”
“That’s my cue to go,” Director Carter says before turning and heading toward some of the HR staff.
Bucky looks at Steve, holding onto his hand.
“I’m horrible at dancing,” Steve says almost bashfully and it looks out of place on a man of his build. Bucky wonders if he looked that odd sitting uncomfortably alone without a dance partner. “Maybe a bite to eat and you introduce me to some of these people?”
Bucky surprises himself that he doesn’t even care.
“Anything you say,” he responds and then for whatever reason, they drop their hands down between them, but don’t let go. Bucky uses it to tug Steve in the direction of the refreshment table. If Steve’s eating, Bucky doesn’t feel so bad having a little more.
“How long have you worked for SHIELD?” Steve asks as he then (sadly) drops Bucky’s hand to reach for a plate and utensils.
“Four years. I didn’t start as department head though. You must be good at what you do.” Bucky grabs another plate and looks to see what foods are out now.
“We’ll find out,” Steve says as he runs skewered strawberries and bananas under a chocolate fountain. “I don’t officially start until tomorrow. Today I just went in and signed a mountain of documents.”
“I’m impressed that you came to a dance before you got to know us.”
“I figured I would just drop in. I mean, it’s a charity event. Besides, Peggy was pretty insistent.”
“Peggy.” Bucky says the name somewhat reflective.
Steve looks confused a moment and then realizes Bucky’s never called her that.
“We go way back. Sharon and I went to college together. I met Peggy then.”
Bucky still looks confused which is how they end up seated with their snack plates and Steve explaining that the new secretary to Director Carter is actually her cousin and Steve’s ex (“But we stayed casual friends.”) and that Peggy’s place was the closest to campus where they could go hang out without spending a lot of money or having a terribly boring time.
“...but she was older than all of us, but not so much older that she felt like a parent.”
“Hanging out with older friends is how I ended up in the military. Older influence can make you do crazy things.” Bucky waves his metal fingers around quickly as if pointing out the obvious.
Steve agrees and uses the hand not holding a fork to motion toward Bucky’s arm.
“Mind if I see your hardware?”
Bucky smirks. Unlike many people with prosthetic limbs, he loves when strangers stare at his manufactured arm. He and a whole team of very dedicated coworkers spent months making the prosthetic the best cybernetic limb ever invented and he’s so damn proud of it that he likes any opportunity to show it off.
“Tony, Shuri, and I spent so many agonizing hours making this, and it took our whole engineering team working very diligently to make it happen,” he says giddily as he drops his fork to his plate, undoes his cufflink, slides off his suit jacket, and unbuttons the sleeve. He watches Steve’s expression turn to one of pure wonder as he pushes the sleeve up over his elbow and extends his arms across the table to him.
Steve’s expression asks permission so fast and Bucky grants it just as quickly before Steve’s hands are all over the arm, running beautiful, deft fingers up and down the dark plates and tracing his finger pads along the edges and crevices of each junction and seam.
“This is amazing, Bucky. I can’t wait to be able for sell these to people.”
“Well, don’t market mine right off my body.”
“What would most appeal to you if I were to want to sell you this arm versus the leading competitor? Say Hammer or Rand offered you their most state-of-the-art prosthesis-“
“Why don’t we set up a meeting to talk shop at work one day soon?”
Steve looks overjoyed as he agrees and Bucky has no idea what his qualifications are, but he is so sure he is the right man for the job.
Bucky glances up in time to see Natasha watching them and he gives her a little smile. Steve sees him and turns to see Natasha and Clint.
“Who is that?” he asks, but then the duo are coming over, leaving the dance floor behind them and honing in on Steve.
“Steve,” Bucky says as soon as they get near the table, “This is Natasha Romanoff from legal and Clint Barton from logistics.”
Somehow the four of them end up at that table talking for the next half hour and between Steve and Bucky shuffling around the table to make room for the others and everyone getting more relaxed as time goes on, Steve and Bucky end up fairly close to one another and at least twice Natasha shoots Bucky a look that seems to be the facial equivalent of a series of exclamation points.
When Natasha and Clint return to the dance floor (to show Loki, Carol, Maria, and Valkyrie who the better dancers are), Steve turns and seems to realize that somehow he’s ended up very close to Bucky.
“Oh,” he says, almost surprised. He has a few cocktails in him now, but with his physique, they don’t seem to be affecting him at all.
Bucky wants to move in closer.
“I have an idea,” Steve says, “If you’re up for it. No obligation.” Then he reaches over to Bucky’s plate, uninvited and plucks a square of cheese off of it before popping it into his house. It has the same energy as someone doing a shot before asking out the hot single person at the end of the bar. Except Steve is already in Bucky’s personal space and has already broken the ice quite thoroughly.
“Yeah?”
“You could maybe teach me to dance? Just a little something simple.”
Bucky’s standing in a second. His hand is back out, palm up, and waiting.
Steve laughs and places his hand into Bucky’s again.
“But one condition!” Steve adds.
Bucky pauses and looks at him questioningly. “More snacks?”
Steve laughs. “Not here. Don’t teach me here.”
Bucky is thrown off.
“Is there somewhere we could go? An unoccupied room somewhere?”
Bucky smiles.
“Of course,” he says instantly. “I know just where we can go.”
A few minutes later, Bucky drops Steve’s hand and scans his fingerprint to open a door that leads to a corridor of locked rooms.
“Too bad you have to scan your flesh hand for that. Would be cool if it recognized your other hand.”
Bucky turns back toward Steve who is a step behind him. He places one prosthetic hand on Steve’s chest and backs him up two steps back through the doorway and then steps out after him, closing the door behind him again. He turns toward the finger scanning device and places his prosthetic finger under the light. Immediately, it turns green and unlocks the door again.
“We’re a prosthesis and orthotics company. Of course we’ve thought of that.”
Steve laughs this sound that resonates deep in his chest and still manages to escape sounding bright and vibrant.
Where Bucky leads Steve is, for some reason, not what Steve was expecting.
“The gym?” he asks when the motion lights flick on.
Bucky shrugs and gestures toward the open floor space in the center of the large room.
“We need space!”
Steve looks a bit nervous. “Yes, we do. I hope I don’t step on your feet.”
“Oh, don’t worry if you do,” Bucky says heading for the empty floor space in the middle of the gym.
“Are they metal too?”
Bucky laughs.
“I taught my little sister to dance. For the first five or six years of her life, she danced standing on my feet. As long as you don’t stand on top of my feet, I think we’ll be good.”
When Bucky looks back at Steve, there’s a soft smile on the other man’s face. Bucky’s sure it is quickly becoming a face he likes very, very much.
“I might have two left feet,” Steve informs as he follows Bucky over. “I don’t know. I’ve never really tried.”
Bucky catches Steve’s hand when he gets close enough and replies, “I’ll suffer through if you do.”
He leads him to the center of a large mat and then plants his feet.
“Just follow my lead. Do what I do. We’ll start off slow.”
“Oh, God. Here it goes.”
Bucky laughs.
“You’ll be great.”
Natasha texts Bucky at some point later and he doesn’t reply for a good twenty minutes after that because he’s so caught up in dancing with Steve. The man can’t really dance, but he’s not so bad that Bucky thinks he’s the kind of white guy that gives white people a bad reputation in the dancing department so he keeps trying and Steve at least can keep a rhythm and move his feet. His body just isn’t really made for fast dancing- his movements always coming off looking practiced instead of fluid- so eventually, Bucky pulls him close and teaches him slow dancing.
“Anyone can slow dance,” he says. His voice is husky and both he and Steve are lightly sweating yet very comfortable in one another’s space.
They’ve been missing from the party for over an hour when Bucky leans his head in against Steve’s and they both close their eyes. The movement changes something. There’s a very obvious shift in the atmosphere.
Before, they’d been dancing- Bucky counting the steps and Steve following. It was lighthearted. They had been flirty and handsy, but it all had been aborted moves that stopped at winks and suggestive lines and teasing smiles.
But now Steve turns his head just slightly and looks at Bucky’s mouth. They’re closer than they’ve dared to get before and then Bucky’s hesitating just a second as well before Steve takes his chance.
He kisses the side of Bucky’s mouth first, just a brush of his lips against a stubbled cheek. But Bucky makes the smallest sound and then grabs onto Steve’s shirt with the hand that’s on his waist and he tilts his head giving him better access and presses forward again.
Steve’s lips meet his in the softest kiss Bucky’s possibly ever had. It’s soft, gentle, but not unsure. And there’s no doubt that both men love it as they pull back only a second before kissing one another again. After the third kiss, Bucky’s quiet laugh ghosts across Steve’s lips.
“What?” Steve asks, his words almost a whisper.
Bucky looks down with a smile.
“I got stood up by my date tonight.”
“Wow,” Steve looks Bucky over quickly. “Their loss.” Steve’s eyeing Bucky with complete admiration and it occurs to Bucky just how completely different this night has gone from what he expected earlier.
“I’m almost positive it was going to be a disaster date anyway. This is by far the best way tonight could have gone.”
Steve reaches his hand up, cupping at Bucky’s jaw before leaning back in.
“The night’s not over yet.”
And he’s absolutely right so Bucky kisses him again.