Chapter 6
He grabbed the gel and gently combed through his hair. Bucky hadn't been on a date in god knows how long, and the first one he had in years was with Captain America. So in short, he had no idea what to wear.
"Sam?" Bucky grabbed the phone. "Sam I'm freaking out, I don't know what to do or wear or_"
"Barnes, Barnes! Calm the hell down."
"Oh wow, why didn't I think of that?"
He could almost hear the smirk on Sam's face. "What's got you so worked up Barnes? Man trouble?"
Bucky huffed in indignation. "As a matter of fact, yes."
It started slowly, with giggling at first, then cackles, and soon Sam was snorting loudly: he winced at the sudden noise.
"Problem there Wilson?"
"Nope. None at all."
A pause.
Then Sam shrieked of laughter again.
"Wilson", he said threateningly.
"Ok, ok. What's the problem?"
"I have a date, but no clue what to wear."
"Where's it gonna be?"
"A club, we're gonna go dancing."
Sam choked on what Bucky assumed was his drink.
"Dancing?" The man asked incredulously.
"Sam, if you aren't making yourself useful I might as well hang up-"
"No! No, it's ok. Um..."
Another pause.
"Go classic."
Bucky's eyes widened, but he couldn't help the small smirk that grew on his lips.
"Dangerous choice Sam, are you sure?"
"Well, this date of yours, is he hot?"
He sucked in a breath. Just thinking about Steve made his mouth water.
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"Trust me, I would", Sam muttered. So quietly Bucky thought he misheard him.
"There ya go", his friend said decisively. "Classic it is."
Bucky grinned. Like he said, it was a dangerous choice.
He quickly thanked Sam and hung up, hands scouring his closet in search for his clothes.
***
Before leaving the apartment, he gave himself one last look in the mirror.
His usually unruly curls were slightly gelled back. Black skinny jeans hugged his thighs, tucked into them was a simple black t-shirt: tight enough to show his broad chest without looking obscene. He zipped up the ankle-length boots and threw on a black leather jacket; he smirked in his reflection. Bucky knew what going classic could do to his dates, and the thrill of seeing Steve's reaction made his smirk grow even bigger.
He put the keys in the lock and walked out the door.
The first thing he noticed were the legs. Toned, thick legs were squeezed into denim jeans, and the higher Bucky's gaze raked Steve's body, the higher his chance of spontaneously combusting. The blonde wore a clean white t-shirt that deliciously rippled beneath every muscle on his torso. He leaned against his motorcycle, calmly holding a jean jacket in is hand; the fact that the most adorably flustered man he knew could turn into this made his knees wobble. Steve's smile was smug, as if he knew Bucky liked what he saw, but when the blonde's eyes scoured over his body, his mouth parted in awe.
"Hey blondie."
"Hi", Steve croaked out. "You look, wow."
Bucky smiled. "Not so bad yourself Rogers."
The taller man blushed, so at odds with the cocky grin he had on a moment ago.
Steve and he sat on the bike, with Bucky wrapping his arms around the other's waist, and they took off.
Steve, being the annoyingly sweet gentleman he was, opened the door for him and they walked into the bar. As soon as he stepped in all his worries and nerves just seeped away.
The White Wolf was like a second home to him: great food, great people and fantastic drinks. Darcy, Becca and he would come here for birthdays, hang outs, or just being complete idiots. His heart ached at the fond memories.
"Jimmy!" Bucky beckoned. "2 beers please."
The bartender grinned. "Coming right up." Apart from Becca, Darcy and Sam, Jimmy was the closest thing he had to family; he hadn't changed a bit. A pot-bellied, 50 something year-old man with a head full of greying hair. His eyes were the colour of coffee, full of warmth that contrasted greatly with his pale wrinkled skin.
"Hey Buck", Steve said. "I'm gonna use the bath room."
"Sure, just don't be there too long. I wanna see that handsome face again."
The blonde flushed adorably.
"Hell of a man there Barnes." The bartender said as Steve left.
Bucky snorted. "You're telling me."
***
By the time Steve came back, there were two chilled beers awaiting them.
"You can't get drunk?" Bucky asked incredulously. "Not even a little tipsy?"
Steve shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Because of the serum, my metabolism burns it off too quickly." He sighed. "I miss being drunk sometimes, there are just some things I'd rather forget, you know?"
"Yeah", Bucky said. "I know."
Something about his tone made Steve look up. "You said you were a Sergeant, how many tours?"
Bucky smiled wryly. "Two. One in Afghanistan, the other in Iraq."
"I, um.. I actually read about you."
The brunette's eyes widened; a sinful smirk stretching his lips. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah", Steve said, growing confident. "You saved over 100 men from a hydra facility, single-handedly. Your as much of a hero as I am Buck, and i honestly didn't think you could get anymore attractive but", he grinned. "Here we are."
Bucky laughed, ducking his head down in embarrassment.
"It's funny", the brunette huffed out.
Steve's head snapped up. "What is?"
"I thought the kiss came after the date, but that's how we met." He chuckled.
"You remember?"
Bucky looked as if Steve had sprouted horns. "Of course I remember, why would you think other wise?"
He shrugged in self-deprecation. "Let's face it Buck, your knock-out gorgeous and-"
"Your not?" The brunette interjected. "Steve, you'd have to be an idiot to think you weren't", he said earnestly. Then he rose up from his stool.
"C'mon Blondie", he extended a hand. "Let's go dancing."
***
Steve was shitting himself.
Sure, he knew the club wasn't going to be anything he was used to, he wasn't totally lost in the modern world. But he didn't come prepared either.
It was dark, the only source of light coming from brightly coloured disco balls, and Steve would have lost himself in the large crowds if it weren't for Bucky's hand guiding his. They stopped at a rather vacant dancefloor, the brunette let go of him and shrugged off his jacket: Steve's breath hitched.
He looked achingly beautiful, his clothing accentuated every muscle and curve on his body, his sharp jaw and cheekbones were covered in various shades of blue, bringing out those gorgeous gray eyes. A wicked smile was splayed on his plush lips, and for some odd reason, Steve's groin felt incredibly tight in his jeans.
"C'mon Steve!" Bucky laughed out. "Dance with me!"
"Uh, I'm not a great dancer Buck." He wasn't lying, but he was putting it mildly. Steve was a horrible dancer, he couldn't move his body the way other's did, in this case, Bucky. The other man was already dancing, effortlessly swaying his hips, his body rolling with the music: Steve walked towards him like a moth drawn to a flame. Suddenly he didn't care about his skills anymore, and it was alarming how the brunette could make him forget just about everything. He stalked behind Bucky, wrapping his arms around the other's waist, moving his hips in time with him.
"I'm pretty sure you don't know the real meaning of "not great" Blondie."
Steve chuckled. "Trust me I do, but being with you makes everything easier."
Bucky responded by snaking a warm hand around his neck, tilting his face so their lips met.
"Your sweet."
"Your cute", Steve countered, roaming his hands over Bucky's body. For some odd reason, his groin felt even tighter; when he heard the brunette moan he honestly believed his dick would explode from the pent-up arousal. At this point nothing could make him let go of the man in front of him. Nothing.
Then his phone rang.
He tried ignoring it, continuing to chase after the shorter man's lips when the brunette told him other wise.
"Steve, Steve!" He laughed. "Just answer the phone."
He whined when the other man pulled away, desperately seeking out the warmth again.
"Hello?"
"Hey Steve? We're gonna need some back up."
"Clint? What's the problem?"
"Some fucking alien thing, looks like Hydra though."
"Shit. Ok, I'll be there."
He put the phone in his pocket and his shoulders slumped. Fucking Nazis.
Sighing, he turned towards Bucky.
"I'm really sorry Buck, I've got a mission."
The brunette quirked his lips.
"That's too bad", he put both his palms on Steve's chest and stared at him coyly. "Just when we were having fun."
He sucked in a breath. Damn this beautiful prick.
"Don't worry", Bucky reassured. "You can take me home; and one day, if you're really lucky", the shorter man whispered, lips inches away from Steve's ear.
"You can take me to bed."
That did it.
Growling, he pushed Bucky against the nearest wall, one hand holding his waist and the other cradling his jaw.
"Fuck the mission, let me stay a little longer."
The other man laughed. "As lovely as that sounds Steve, you should go."
He pouted.
"Fine, let me take you home Bucko."
"I'm sorry, what did you just call me?"
He grinned at Bucky's outraged face. Together, they walked out of the club, Steve's roaring motorbike taking them home.
***
"Mr. Pierce? There's a call for you."
Grunting in response, he put down his dinner and answered the phone.
"Yes?"
"Sir, it's Rumlow. Captain Rogers has just left the target, shall we proceed?"
The old man visibly brightened, his lips pulled up in a cold smile. "Yes, bring Barnes in. Oh, and Rumlow", he quickly added.
"By all means necessary."