Chapter 6
Steve was having an awful day. He’d woken up this morning with a tight chest and aching joints. Days like this he really hated his body. He knew his asthma had to flare up at some point, with the cold weather closing in. He was, thankfully, prepared for this, with at least six inhalers in his apartment, another at work, and one in his pocket, just in case. He’d been given so many blankets and pairs of fluffy socks from Peggy that, when he bundled himself up, he was roasting within seconds, even without his heating on. Not that he could afford to keep his heating off. He didn’t want to end up in hospital with pneumonia again.
He’d been so close to calling in sick to work today, but he was the kind of person who would be on death’s door before he admitted his body was getting the better of him. He’d been constantly sick as a child and he refused to let anything as insignificant as weak lungs or fragile bones get in the way of his life. Besides, he needed the money to keep his heating on.
It was a slow shift, Friday’s generally weren’t very busy, apart from the morning rush, but it was now 1 o’clock and the shop was basically empty. Not that Steve was complaining. It gave him time to work on his art at least. He was currently doing some sketches of the few customers in the shop. It wasn’t his best work, just some rough sketches of different expressions and movements, but it kept him busy.
He was just about to put his sketchbook away and do some cleaning when the door opened. He rushed to the counter, pushing his glasses back up his nose and smoothing his apron down hastily, plastering a welcoming smile on his face. When the door didn’t close, he raised his head in confusion, and felt his heart skip a couple of beats. Bucky was here. In his shop. With his art on full display for anyone to look at. Steve quickly averted his eyes before they made contact with Bucky’s and he busied himself with wiping the counter down, waiting for Bucky to approach him.
He heard a shout and looked back up quickly to see Bucky being launched into the shop by a blonde guy covered in plasters. He had his hand around the leash of a puppy wearing a guide dog coat. Steve tried to hide his smile at Bucky’s outraged look but failed miserably.
Bucky walked over to the counter, his face red and his hand scrubbing through his hair roughly. Steve smiled at him, and this seemed to encourage Bucky to finally make eye contact. “Hi Bucky.” Steve asked, almost breathless. That probably had more to do with his asthma than Bucky’s presence. Or at least that’s what he was telling himself.
Bucky flushed considerably darker. Steve tried to focus on what Bucky was saying rather than marvel at the beautiful red staining his cheeks. He looked at Bucky’s lips in an effort to concentrate, but, if anything, it made it harder to pay attention. “Uh, hi, Steve. I had no idea you worked here, sorry. I don’t know if you got my text, but I was wondering if you wanted to meet up for coffee at some point and discuss these extra lessons? Figured I'd ask you now as you're here. And I'm here, too, obviously. And you might not have checked your phone or whatever.” Bucky was clearly going for nonchalance, but Steve could sense an underlying hint of something else in his tone. It almost sounded like desperation. He decided to let it go, not wanting to make Bucky uncomfortable.
He opened his mouth to reply, and instead was overcome by a hacking cough that shook his whole body. He desperately scrambled for his handkerchief (no he wasn’t ninety, shut up, Peggy) and coughed brutally into it, his lungs on fire. Bucky took an involuntary step back, his eyes wide and slightly terrified. Steve knew he must sound like his soul was leaving his body, but, really, he was used to it by now. Not a great first (third?) impression to make. Once the coughing had subsided, Steve smiled weakly. “Sorry, I’ve got a bit of a cold. I’d love to meet for coffee, when are you free?”
Bucky shrugged, looking around the shop. “I’m free now, when’s your break?” Steve looked behind him at the blonde man, who grinned easily back at him. Bucky followed his line of sight, “that’s Clint, Natasha’s husband. He’s also my babysitter. The dog is Lucky. He's Clint's babysitter. I was gonna bring my dog but I wasn't sure about this shop's policy on pets” Bucky said. Steve wondered if Bucky rambled about everything or if this was a privilege only Steve was allowed. He was endeared either way. While he was contemplating Bucky’s conversational skills, the expectant look on Bucky's face reminded him that Bucky had just asked him a question.
“I mean, technically I’m here on my own for the rest of the day. Friday’s are never busy anyway.” Steve shrugged, “I can have a break now, but if a customer comes in, I have to serve them. What can I get you? On the house, of course.” Behind Bucky, Clint coughed pointedly, “and something on the house for your friend too. I can't imagine the pain he's had to go through, hanging out with you.” Steve's tone was playful, but he didn't miss the split second flash of hurt in Bucky's eyes. Damn. He'd really need to watch what he said. Obviously Bucky was sensitive. Clint laughed behind him, coming closer to throw an arm around Bucky's shoulder. Steve could literally see the tense air around Bucky relax at the contact and a spark of jealousy ran through him. He wanted to make Bucky feel that comfortable.
“Nah, Buck's a riot. Bit of a dork, but funny as hell. I'm lucky to have him. Not you, you dozy dog.” Clint patted Lucky’s head fondly. It was then Steve noticed the hearing aids in Clint’s ears. The slight deaf accent clued him in, but he should've been more observant. He used to be partially deaf in one ear, so he knew sign language. He immediately felt rude for talking when he knew first hand the pain of using hearing aids.
“Uh, I heard your hot chocolate was amazing. Mind if I give it a try?” Bucky asked, his fingers moving in sign for Clint’s benefit, “one for Clint as well, please.” Steve nodded.
“Two hot chocolates coming up.” He signed. The effect was instantaneous. Clint’s face lit up in a beaming smile and Steve grinned back. Bucky had an impressed look on his face and Steve desperately wanted to kiss him.
After he'd made the drinks, he came around the counter and sat opposite Bucky in his favourite spot by the window. Clint flopped down next to Steve, nudging him and signing so fast Steve almost missed it. He laughed; Clint's enthusiasm was contagious. Steve looked expectantly at Bucky. “Yeah, so I was wondering if you'd be available once a week to help me improve my art skills. I could tell from class that you're a natural talent. I'm free basically all the time, so just give me a day that works for you?” Bucky shifted uncomfortably. Steve was a little taken aback by his bluntness, but he supposed it was a quirk he'd get used to pretty quickly. Hopefully, anyway.
“Um well I have evenings off anyway. I finish at 7 everyday. My day off is actually Thursday, the same day as the art class. We could do Wednesday evening?” Bucky nodded, so Steve got up to get his bag. He pulled out his pocket diary (shut up, Peggy) and jotted down Bucky’s name and address. “I assume you want to meet at yours? It's okay if you want to do this somewhere else.” Steve said nervously.
“No! No, my house is fine. Just, uh, text before you get there. I don't generally answer the door to people I don't know.” Bucky said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck self consciously. Steve noticed he was still wearing his gloves indoors. He resolved to turn the heating up. He didn't think it was cold in the shop, but he sometimes wasn't a good judge, especially when he was ill.
After both Clint and Bucky had finished their drinks, they left the shop, with promises to visit Steve again in the near future. Steve waved them off and shut the door. He smiled giddly. He was going to Bucky’s house next week. He wasn’t so presumptuous to assume it was a date, but even that thought couldn’t quell the excitement building inside of him. He almost got hit by the door as a customer came in, and with a jolt remembered he was supposed to be working. Wednesday couldn’t come quick enough.