Work Text:
Bucky Barnes was slightly concerned by his lack of interest in his current work. On any other day, someone would be hard-pressed to pull him away from a beauty like the 1973 Pontiac Grand Am he had before him.
Bucky had cut this particular customer a deal on some of the parts and labor given that she always came to Bucky first with any of her auto issues. Those that she couldn’t crack herself, that is.
The car almost needed a full on restoration and while many would have cringed at the thought of undertaking that for the price quoted, Bucky approached such an endeavor with relish. Or, he had until he’d found his mind wandering everywhere but to his actual work laid out in front of him.
Bucky was finding it physically difficult to deal with the fact that seven o’clock was so far off. As such, what he typically sought solace from became an ineffective distractor.
The man didn’t go out often, especially with people not already in his immediate circle. Some may consider that to be unhealthy or even questionable behavior, but Bucky knew his comfort zone and limits and didn’t tend to stray away from them too much- if he could help it, that is.
For whatever reason, his brain didn’t seem to have its usual persistent hang-ups when confronted with the exuberant Tony he’d met only a couple of hours earlier. However, whatever sense of calm that had come over him when meeting the other man seemed to wash out of him once he returned to his ‘shop and found himself left to his own devices.
The man shook his head as if to clear it before grabbing his headlamp and rolling up under the car’s chassis to tighten up a few components (for the third time that day).
Bucky was just managing to re-immerse himself in his work when approaching footsteps reverberated from across the workshop. Bucky’s hands stilled in anticipation as he quirked an eyebrow. He couldn’t recall receiving any calls that would warrant a customer dropping by, but he may have been mistaken.
He was just preparing to go out and greet whoever it was before he heard shuffling steps moving closer.
The door connecting the front lobby and office creaked open, which had the effect of narrowing down the possible culprits, at least. “Buck?” A voice called out, prompting the man in question to sigh softly and roll back out from under the car.
He turned his head to the side and was met with the image of a large blond who was somewhat clumsily peeking over and through various cars and their parts, hand planted firmly on his hip with a matching crease in his brow.
You couldn’t really blame him, given the state of the garage.
Tools were strewn across workbenches, mismatched shelving, and the damn floor alike. Pushed into one corner was a fully-stocked fridge inviting one to sit at the card table pushed up against an adjacent wall. It wasn’t necessarily the safest set-up, but it made sense to Bucky and he always knew where everything was. He liked to call it artfully cluttered. Steve referred to it as a little 'damned slice of apocalypse' on one heated occasion.
Bucky rolled his eyes fondly. “Over here, Steve.” He offered a little wave of his metal hand to put an end to his friend’s half-hearted search.
The impending frown upon Steve’s face was quickly undone by the flash of a grin as his eyes locked on his best friend.
“Have you even gotten around to the other ones yet?” Steve asked, extending a hand to help Bucky stand.
“Nah. Ms. Patterson’s really looking forward to this one so I figured I could take some time out to focus exclusively on this baby.” Bucky tossed a relatively clean rag to Steve before finding another one to wipe his own hands off on.
“Uh huh. That’s what you said last time, Buck.” Steve shook his head as he focused on scrubbing at whatever mixture of oily goop had taken residence on his hand this time.
“Yeah, well it ain’t going all that well, all things considered. My mind keeps wanderin’.” Bucky shrugged and attempted to inconspicuously check his watch.
“We could try to check out that movie everyone’s been going on about?” Steve suggested with a head tilt. “Apparently there’s aliens and machine guns. Maybe an abundance of action shots will do you some good.”
Bucky lifted his mostly clean flesh hand to his face and swiped at his hair with a small wince, lip quirking in faux apology. “I actually kinda have a thing later.” He admitted sheepishly, eyes locked on something behind Steve’s head.
Steve took it in stride, careful not to let his surprise or excitement show through, even though Bucky could detect it just under the surface of Steve’s too composed face. "Yeah? Well, that’s fine. Another time, then?" He asked, even though both of them knew far too well that the movie was as good as forgotten on his end.
"Sure, sure." Bucky decided to busy himself with (slightly) rearranging some tools in his immediate reach. He was buzzing with anticipation, but decided to let his friend sweat a little longer.
Steve made a point to whistle lowly under his breath, casting the occasional glance at his friend before hastily looking away. He was trying, okay?
Bucky refrained from laughing at the other man, but was finding it difficult to conceal his amusement. Steve might have taken note of this if he wasn’t too busy diligently tiptoeing around his friend as he still found himself doing from time to time.
Steve began shuffling from foot to foot before stuffing his hands in his pockets and attempting a casual nod, lip caught between clenched teeth.
Bucky was just reaching for his crimper for the second time before he rounded on Steve with an air of urgency and an eye roll prepared. He could only take so much, dammit. "Alright, out with it." He gestured impatiently with his metal hand, crimper clattering to the bench at his side.
Steve raised both hands complacently. “Now I don’t mean to pry-” Steve started with his ‘I’m being a reasonable, rationally sound person’ look. Bucky wasn’t buying it.
“Like hell you don’t.” Bucky insisted indignantly, nodding in challenge, lips threatening to break out in a smile he wasn’t ready to relinquish just yet.
“Okay so maybe I do mean to pry a little. Just a skosh.” Steve allowed innocently enough. “But I won’t if it makes you uncomfortable. You know that.” He added resolutely, all doe-eyed with a matching aura of earnestness around him.
Bucky huffed a bit more before relaxing his stance. He could always count on Steve being an eternal boy scout. “Of course you wouldn’t.” He responded, taking pity on the other man. “But you can. You should- I know you’re dyin’ to, Stevie.” He offered a slightly more hesitant grin as he took his hair out of its sorry excuse for a bun and pulled it into a halfhearted ponytail.
Steve waited a beat. “Who is it? Where’d you meet him? Or her? How long has this been going and why didn’t I know?”
All of his questions came tumbling out as if the man was on the verge of exploding from the pressure of keeping them all to himself. In his excitement, Steve managed to look like the little kid Bucky had vowed to protect all those years ago, making the latter’s grin grow even larger as if that were possible.
“First of all, I didn’t even know there was anything to know about until a few hours ago. But basically, I have dinner plans with a very attractive guy in a bit so I won’t be able to make that movie with you.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal and hadn’t been eating at him as more time passed since his initial interaction with Tony.
At Steve’s pressing, Bucky did go into further detail on precisely how the two met, all the while trying (in vain) to quell Steve’s antics. Unsurprisingly, he failed at that and next thing he knew, Steve had him worked up into an even more excited frenzy right along with him.
“Are you scared? Nervous?” Steve asked before a peculiar look settled across his features. “I just mean, it’s been a while, you know? For both of us, really.” He amended diplomatically.
“I’m a little nervous, but there’s nothing too scary about the guy. I mean, except for his blatant lack of interest in not getting run over and all.” Bucky chuckled lowly to himself.
“Leave it to you to pick someone up by playing hero.” Steve shook his head, still grinning at the information Bucky had just provided him with.
“Oh, sure you’re one to talk. I seem to remember an eighty pound kid getting into fights with four guys all a foot taller than him. That ringing any bells?” Bucky shot back accusatorily.
“And I seem to remember some random guy trying to come to my rescue and getting a nice shiner and a broken wrist for his troubles.” Steve retaliated. “What can I say? You’re just a little predictable ‘s’all.” Steve ducked as Bucky reached over to smack him upside the head.
Bucky felt his phone vibrating in his pocket and reached for it, briefly distracting Steve so he could give him a quick smack before dodging out of the way and turning the screen on.
Steve huffed in indignation, arms crossed despite his eyes giving away his lack of anger.
Bucky studied his phone for a few seconds. “Buck?” Steve called, eyebrows raised. The man in question inhaled deeply before clicking on his messages, seeing that he’d received one from Tony.
I was thinking we could meet where we met? That sounds slightly stupid, but I’m sticking with it. Also, this is Tony aka the magnificent yet idiotic guy you met earlier by heroic happenstance. And agreed to see later. Your words, not mine. Well, the idiot part, that is. Alas, let me know what works for you.
Bucky quickly added Tony to his contacts before typing out his affirmation and sending it.
Steve moved to nudge his shoulder against Bucky’s metal one. “Was that him?” He inquired in a hushed tone, craning his neck to get a look at the phone.
Bucky lifted an eyebrow and shoved back at him. “What the hell are you whispering for? No one else is here.” He felt the need to point out before pocketing his phone and moving to close the workshop up for the evening.
“And yeah, that’s Tony. He was just confirming.” Bucky tried to fight the smile threatening to breach his face. Yet again, this was a lot harder than it had any right to be.
He scrounged for his keys before checking the locks on everything he deemed worthy enough to lock up, made sure all of the lights in the back were out, and made to close any open windows. He tossed his keys in the air rhythmically, whistling under his breath with a slight strut in his step.
He could hear Steve scoff playfully behind him. “Don’t tell me you’re closin’ already? Aren’t you supposed to be open for another three hours?” Steve argued as he moved to follow the other man.
“Yeah, well I wasn’t getting much done and with you running your mouth like that, it’d take me a year to finish the damn car anyway.” Bucky admonished, before he remembered something. “And shouldn’t you be in class right now?” He turned to face his friend fully, arms automatically crossing.
“Actually, my class was cancelled, Mom.” Steve rolled his eyes good-naturedly before rushing to continue.
“And you just can’t focus because you’re too busy thinking about To-ny.” Steve said the last part in a sing-songy manner and Bucky was struck with the disturbing realization that somewhere along the way, he’d ended up befriending an insufferable man-child.
“Shut up.” Bucky deadpanned. “We need to get home so you can help me find something to wear, doofus.”
Steve waited patiently for the other man to secure all of the locks on the workshop before continuing to sing stupid little phrases about Bucky and this date of his that Steve was now hell-bent on meeting.