“Are you actually serious?”
The look Clint’s giving him says volumes about what he thinks of Bucky’s latest hare-brained scheme.
Scowling, Bucky rakes his hand through his hair. “I need the credits ok? Uni admin allots anywhere between 3-10 credits to students who show international students around for the first few weeks.”
“Bucky, you are aware that this is a welcoming session right? To make people feel more welcome? And comfortable?”
“What’s your point?”
“Dude, you don’t even like people. How’re you going to make them feel comfortable?”
Bucky lets his head fall onto the table with a loud clunk. He knew he shouldn’t have skipped so many classes last semester.
It’s karma that his pickup is a last minute booking, some kid called Steve Rogers who’s apparently got his visa last minute and is arriving at the airport on Sunday night at the last hourly slot before they stopped the orientation service.
Bucky hates his luck sometimes.
He stands at the reception with a brilliant yellow hoodie and stamps his feet, trying to ward off the cold in vain. He’s freezing and this Rogers kid is nowhere in sight. He’d sit down if the airport chairs weren’t made of metal and thus more likely to make him colder.
Half an hour later, a lone figure makes his way through the arrival terminus. He looks, and Bucky thinks this is the only way to describe it, exhausted.
Scrawny and pale, although his nose and ears are red from the cold, he’s pushing a trolley with two beaten up suitcases and carrying a heavy backpack and a laptop bag. He looks like he’s going to topple over from the weight alone and Bucky can’t help but think that he looks really and truly lost.
He makes his way up to him and asks, “Uh, you wouldn’t happen to be Steve Rogers would you?”
The man looks up from where he’s eyeing up the rack of maps (and Bucky suspects, the price) and looks at him warily.
“That’d be me.”
“I’m Bucky, I was assigned to pick you up from the airport and welcome you to London? So, uh, welcome?”
Steve’s jaw drops.
“Holy shit man, I mean, I’m like an hour and a half late. I didn’t think you’d wait for that long. You must hate me.”
Bucky grins without meaning too, the kid’s cute, he’ll give him that. “Well, I think bits of me are might fall off from the cold, but other than that, no harm done. Let me give you a hand with that.”
Steve’s hands tighten over the handle of his trolley and Bucky involuntarily notices how long and slender his fingers are. “Ah, that’s alright, I’ve got it.”
“No offense pal, but it’d be a piss poor welcome if I didn’t help you at least a bit.”
He wrangles the trolley away from Steve and they make their way towards the university sponsored car that he’s got for the night. As they make their way to the entrance, Bucky asks, “What took so long anyway?”
“Immigration checks and customs clearance and stuff.”
Wincing, Bucky steps out into the frigid night air.
Next to him Steve lets out a curse and wraps his arms around himself, “Is it always this cold here?”
“Gets worse actually, wait a couple more weeks. Hate to be the one to tell you this, but you’re really going to need to stock up some warmer clothing and fast buddy.”
By the time they reach the car, Steve’s lips have actually turned blue and Bucky’s a little concerned at how his breath rattles in his chest. Steve barely sits down before he yanks out an inhaler from his backpack and takes a long puff from it.
Loading the remaining suitcases into the back of the car, Bucky places the trolley at a collection point and asks, “You need to go to a hospital or something? You don’t look so good.”
“Thanks jerk,” Steve rasps out, “You’re doing a great job with the welcoming so far.”
“Hang on” Bucky says, ignoring that jibe, “Let me switch on the heater.”
Five minutes later, Steve looks considerably warmer and healthier and he sighs. “I should apologize. I’m pretty sure you didn’t sign up for this.”
Glancing at him as he waits for the signal to change, Bucky grins, “You’re a surprising one, I’ll give you that. But what can I say, keeps things interesting. Go ahead and take a nap if you want,” he adds, noticing how Steve is nodding off, “I’ll wake you up when we reach.”
Steve’s out like a light and Bucky notes amusedly how he snores softly.
He’s pretty cute actually, Bucky observes idly. Totally his type too.
Maybe the next few weeks weren’t going to be so bad after all.