Chapter 5
Bucky threw the wrench to the floor and watched as oil gushed from the engine, staining his white tank top. He wasn't a mechanic by profession, but he did have a knack with cars; so he would help around the neighbourhood when he could.
"Thank fuck", after a few tweaks and adjustments the car was up and running. The sun briefly came out of the dreary clouds, and Bucky stared in fascination as the scars on his arm basked in a golden glow. It was hard getting used to, those scars were daily reminders of the horrors of war, the bombs and guns, the piled corpses. Now they looked almost, beautiful.
"Hey Bucky, how's the car?"
He span around, and there was his neighbour, attacking a sandwich.
"Is that-"
"A prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwich? Yes, yes it is", Fitz smelled the food in his hand and sighed blissfully. "With a hint, of pesto aioli."
Leo Fitz was a strange and intriguing man. A mop of curly blonde hair sat atop his head, his bright blue eyes were constantly moving; accompanied by a thick Scottish accent that hadn't changed despite his two years living in New York. His roommate Jemma and he lived in the apartment just a block from here, finishing of their schooling. Bucky had rapidly noticed just how intelligent the two were, and he had vague knowledge of them studying science of some kind.
"Yup, she's purring like a cat."
"You are a lifesaver, you know that?"
Bucky smiled. "Well, I'm gonna go to the grocery store, so I'll leave you and your car to it."
"Are you sure you don't want me to pay you?" Fitz began searching his pockets. "I've got some cash here-"
"Kid, your way to damn polite for your own good. It's fine."
He took a bite out of his sandwich. "I swear, if I wasn't eating this I'd kiss you right now."
The brunette laughed and wiped at the oil on his jeans.
"Let's just both be glad that you are."
***
Bucky drummed his fingers against the customer counter and waited. It was just his luck really.
The cashier had a sudden reaction to some nuts, the machine broke down and on top of that, he was short on money.
"Need some help with that?" A smooth voice asked.
Bucky grunted, trying but failing to fix the machine.
"No thanks, I'm alright."
The voice chuckled. "Are you sure Buck?"
And lo and behold there was Steve standing right behind him, his knees wobbled and his bag of apples fell to the floor.
Damn, that was the second piece of fruit he dropped because of the blonde.
"I - hi."
Steve smirked. "Hey yourself, let me pick those up for you." The taller man bent down, giving Bucky a spectacular view of his ass. Holy jesus.
***
After Steve had so generously paid for his groceries (even though he insisted he hadn't) they took a walk towards his apartment; despite a few awkward pauses here and there, the blonde was surprisingly easy to talk to. They discussed everything from sliced bread to philosophies of life, and Bucky was quickly realising Steve was far more insightful and perceptive than he initially thought. It was wonderful seeing him talk so passionately, and he could easily envision himself walking up to Steve everyday and just...talking to each other. Bucky silently berated himself, he'd only met him once prior and he was already thinking of the future.
Once they'd finally reached his apartment, he stopped and stared in awe as Steve carried all of his groceries, picking them up as if the weighed nothing, and strode into his home.
"This is a lovely place you got Buck", Steve sucked in a breath. "It's beautiful."
Bucky beamed. New York was extremely pricy, but thanks to his job as well as his pay from the army, he managed to snag a stunning brownstone apartment. He turned to watch the blonde's reaction but faltered when he saw the taller man blatantly staring at him, a strange ex[pression shining through those blue eyes.
"Beautiful", he repeated.
They stared at each other for a few more seconds before Bucky broke the silence.
"Thanks", he replied earnestly. "After my Sergeant days, I decided it was hightime I treat myself."
Steve raised his brows, an almost giddy expression was cast on his handsome face. "Sergeant?"
Bucky chuckled. "Well yeah, I thought it was obvious", then he dropped his shoulders back and stood straight, raising his hand in a mocking salute. "Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes, reporting for duty."
The blonde laughed, and Bucky's heart fluttered at the sound.
Together, they unpacked the groceries; were about to bid one an another goodbye when Steve hesitated slightly.
"Um, I was wondering, and you don't have to - oh god", he nervously stammered. "Could I have your number?"
Bucky's eyes softened, this man was going to be the death of him.
After exchanging phone numbers, Steve left, and Bucky was too wrapped up in his world to notice the blonde's incredibly dorky smile.
***
"Hi, is this ok?"
"Oh, it's Steve by the way."
"Is this too forward of me?"
"Oh geez, Buck I'm sorry if it is."
Bucky snorted.
"Jesus blondie, calm your tits. And yeah, it's fine, this is what usually happens when you give someone your number. You text them.
"Pretty sure my name is Steve, not blondie.
"And i don't have tits."
"Oh on the contrary, your pectorals are so big you could stuff them in a bra."
"Now what your saying is just down-right indecent."
"Get used to it buddy, I live shamelessly and freely".
"Unless your not interested."
"I'm interested :))"
Bucky squealed in excitement. This fucking sweet talker.
They would text each other for weeks on end, and when Bucky got home with Steve calling him, it was honestly the highlight of his day.
***
Loud knocks rasped at his door; the brunette quickly got up to answer it.
Steve was standing there, a bouquet of roses in his hand.
"James Buchannan Barnes", the blonde drew in a shaky breath.
"Would you do me the honor, of agreeing to go out on a date with me?"