Iris

"Tattoos are like stories—they're symbolic of the important moments in your life. Sitting down, talking about where you got each tattoo and what it symbolizes, is really beautiful." —Pamela Anderson

Everything about him screamed bad boy. His edges were hard as if he were sculpted by Michelangelo. His dark hair hung about his face loose and wild. His cheeky grin—

He slid into the booth beside Steve. Licking a line down Steve's face, he grinned even wider. 

Steve wasn’t sure how to react, and his pounding heart wasn’t going to be any help. Mustering his courage, he licked Thor’s face. 

Thor licked Sam’s face who licked Clint’s face. 

Giggling somewhat hysterically, he looked back at the bad boy of his dreams. 

“I’m Bucky,” the Alpha drawled.

“I’m Steve.” 

“Wanna dance?” Bucky asked, holding out his hand.

Did Steve want Bucky’s tattooed and muscled arms wrapped around his body? He wanted nothing more in the world. 

Music has a heartbeat. 

Steve's own heartbeat thudded in his own chest as Bucky pulled him close. 

Artwork by nattyche.

The lyrics wrapped around him like a premonition. 

I know you wanna be my love 

I know you wanna be mine. 

Steve was used to holding himself together so tightly. 

But Bucky's grin was infectious.

Steve couldn't help being swept away. He lost himself in the music, in the dance, in the heady scent of whiskey and vanilla. 

The tightness in his body eased until he felt like he was floating. 

Dancing without a care in the world. 

Forgetting about everything but brown eyes.

Steve collapsed in the booth. 

Bucky arm was strategically placed over the top of the booth. 

Steve hid a smile as he drank from a refreshingly cool glass of water. 

“I'll be right back," Bucky murmured pressing a kiss against his cheek. 

“Steve," Sam caught his attention. “He is trouble."

Steve could tell Sam was being serious. 

“Promise me you're not going to date him," Sam continued. 

Steve frowned. 

The thought hadn't crossed his mind, really. 

“Of course, I'm not going to date him. He's just funny is all." Steve shrugged. 

“Stevie! No! Good boys are in," Sam whined. 

“Good boys are in," Steve repeated. "I'm not going to date him."

“Don't date him," Sam said.

“I'm not gonna date him." 

Steve stumbled as he attempted to put one foot in front of the other. He almost expected to fall, but Bucky's strong arms wrapped around him.

“I'm ok really!" Steve giggled. He still felt buoyant as if he might float away. 

Bucky released him and surveyed the cars in the empty parking lot. “Which one's yours?"

“I'm ok, really. I'm ok!" Steve didn't need an escort. 

“Hey, it's a very dangerous lot!" Bucky said. He almost kept his face serious. “Lot of murderers."

Steve laughed. “I gotta go."

“It's not even 4:00," Bucky said standing between Steve and his car. “I gotta see you again, tomorrow."

“It is tomorrow," Steve said. 

Bucky kissed him. 

Steve pulled away. "I gotta go. I'm leaving for work."

“To where?" Bucky asked.

“Cancun."

“I love Cancun!" Bucky exclaimed. He ran around the car like a little kid. "I'm coming!"

“You are not!" Steve giggled. 

“C'mon! Please, can I go with you?" Bucky begged, batting his long eyelashes. 

Steve shook his head. “No! Goodnight, Bucky."

Bucky sighed. “Ok, but only under one condition."

“And what's that?" Steve asked. 

“Give me your number." Bucky grinned

Steve rolled his eyes but scrawled his phone number on Bucky's hand. He added the message, Don't call me. 

He pulled the car out of the parking lot trying to pretend that he didn't see Bucky watching him with a goofy grin plastered to his face. 

Maybe, just maybe, he wanted him to call after all. 

***

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