Bucky had a number of problems on his hands that he didn't know how to deal with. The first problem was that his new neighbor was incredibly gorgeous, the second was that he was really dumb and when he made the guy a lasagna to bring to him as a welcoming gift he forgot to bring it over and knocked on the guys door empty handed, and the third was that when the guy (Steve, he'd introduced himself as) opened the door, Bucky forgot what he was gonna say and just sputtered out “Made food. Um.” before laughing and shaking his head, starting over. So basically, Bucky's problems were all caused by the fact that he was nothing but a chaotic gay.
Once Bucky got past the stumbling over his words, he explained that he'd made Steve a lasagna but left it in his house by mistake, and Steve gave him a big smile for a moment before something seemed to dawn on him. “Okay, so the thing is, I don't have a stove? House didn't come with one and the one I ordered is arriving late.” Steve explained.
Bucky furrowed his brow for a moment and blurted out, “Wanna come over? I'll heat it up for you there.” before realizing what he was saying. And then he sucked in a gasp and tried hard to pretend his cheeks weren't heating up. Steve smiled again before nodding at him.
“Sure! I was just finishing up a couple things, but I can be over there in a few minutes?” Steve replied. Bucky gave him a thumbs up before retreating. That was where the fifth problem came in- the fourth being inviting Steve over in the first place. Bucky's place was a bit of a mess. He didn't think he'd ever cleaned so fast in his entire life before that moment, but in three minutes flat he had all the clutter cleared off his floors and he'd wiped up the mess in his kitchen from cooking the lasagna. Steve rung his doorbell a minute later, and Bucky stopped in the mirror in the hall. After assessing for a moment, he gave himself a thumbs up and opened up. He stood awkwardly in silence for a moment before realizing what he was doing, then stepped back.
“Sorry. I'm a little spacey right now, I don't know what's up. Come in?” and he gestured towards the kitchen. Steve smiled at him again and stepped in.
“So, you never introduced yourself before. What's your name?” Steve asked him as he worked his shoes off in the doorway.
“James, but call me Bucky.” he replied while he directed Steve to the living room. “Figured we could talk or something while I heat the lasagna back up.” Steve nodded.
“Sounds good. What's the story behind that name, Bucky?” He asked, watching as Bucky put the lasagna in. He stood back upright, jerking his hand back quickly and shaking it off before pushing the oven closed with his rear end and leaned to run cold water over his hand.
“Got burned. Bucky's from my middle name, it's Buchanan. My mom had a weird thing for presidents and some kids at school thought it was funny, but I actually really like the nickname so joke's on them.” He explained.
“Wait, fuck, are you okay?” Steve asked, walking up to Bucky in the kitchen to assess the burn. “I'm a nurse, would you let me take care of that for you?”
Bucky blinked at him before nodding, leaving his hand under the water. “First aid kit’s under the bathroom sink, bathroom is the first door on the left in the hallway.” Bucky explained, and Steve nodded and headed that way. He returned a moment later with some cream and bandages, and Bucky sat down at the couch with him. Steve took his hand and dealt with it quickly, then looked up at Bucky only to find the other man staring at him. He noticed he blushed when he was caught before looking down, and Steve smiled to himself.
So there were Bucky's next four problems; the awkward greeting, the fact he'd forgotten to introduce himself, the burn, and the fact that he was an idiot. Steve really didn't seem to mind though, so he decided it was okay to be a bit of an idiot when it came to this guy. He was cute enough for that risk to be taken. After a few more moments of silence, Bucky looked up again to find Steve staring at him this time. He laughed before he could stop himself, and Steve looked a little surprised before he started laughing himself. And there they were, giggling like idiots together even though they were complete strangers to each other around a half an hour before. Bucky was certainly pleased with this turn of events.
Later, after they'd eaten the lasagna, Steve left with Bucky's phone number and a smile, and Bucky stood in his doorway with a smile of his own as the small man walked to his house.
———
The two texted for hours that night like they were teenagers who'd only just realized their parents wouldn't know if they used their phones when they should be sleeping. They got to know each other really well, Bucky learning Steve was an orphan and an artist, Steve learning Bucky was a veteran (if he hadn't guessed from the prosthetic) and he acted in his free time, among other things for the each of them. Bucky also learned Steve's best friend worked at the VA and agreed they should meet some time.
When the time reached 2:00 AM Bucky realized he had work the next morning and he was an idiot, and apologized to Steve for keeping him up, but Steve insisted he wouldn't have been up if he didn't want to and he was an insomniac anyways. Bucky apologized again anyways and said goodnight, but not before offering to help Steve continue to unpack tomorrow after work. Steve told him he didn't have to do that, but Bucky said he wanted to and they agreed Bucky would come over at 6:00 PM with food that didn't require an oven. Bucky was almost too excited to sleep. Almost.
———
When it came time to go over to Steve's house, Bucky was ready with sandwiches and a bomb ass outfit, and he wasn't going to start out their first conversation of the night with “Made food. Um” again.
He knocked on the door, smiling when Steve opened it and held up his bag of sandwiches. Steve wiggled his eyebrows and invited him in.
“I'd say sorry about the mess and all the boxes, but that's what you came here to resolve, so.” Steve shrugged. “What kinda sandwiches?”
“PB&J.” Bucky informed him, holding out Steve's. “Figured I'd play it safe. Didn't wanna bring turkey or something to have you be vegetarian.” Steve laughed and took the sandwich from him.
“I have some fruit in my fridge if you wanna have that too.” Steve offered. Bucky nodded and they got up to head to the kitchen. They were cutting out some cubes of watermelon when Bucky accidentally cut into his finger a bit. He just sighed, and Steve had to look over to see what happened.
“Jesus christ.” Steve said before heading to grab his first aid kit. “Sit on the couch, I'll be back in a sec’.”
Bucky did just that, and Steve returned with his first aid kit and some peroxide to clean the wound. He got to work, and once he finished he kept his hold on Bucky's hand. “We have got to stop meeting like this.” he deadpanned.
Bucky blinked at him for a moment before bursting into laughter, and Steve laughed at his own joke a bit, too.
By the end of the night, they'd made real date plans. Bucky was gonna take Steve out to dinner in a few days, and he absolutely was not going to hurt himself in a kitchen related situation at all during their date.
———
Their date went really well, considering Bucky didn't get hurt once and it ended with them making out and trying to find their way into Bucky's bedroom without breaking apart from each other. That was really fun until Steve somehow cut his finger on Bucky's zipper. He pulled his finger back and hissed, and Bucky asked him if he was okay before laughing so hard he didn't stop for two whole minutes, Steve glaring at him the whole time. When he finally calmed himself down, he said “Oh, hey! My turn!” and ran to get the first aid kit. He cleaned off the cut and put a band-aid over it, and then pressed a kiss over it. “To make it get better faster.” he explained, and Steve rolled his eyes but his smile gave away just how cute he found it. They smiled at each other for a moment before getting back to the kissing, and they continued to have a lot of fun together that night. Bucky collapsed next to Steve in his bed at the end of it, and he couldn't think of a single problem he had on his hands.