Bucky Barnes watched with suspicion as his neighbor (tall, blonde, absolutely gorgeous) hefted a canvas sack approximately the size of Bucky’s torso over his shoulder. He watched the man continue to the street and then around the corner out of sight. This was the third questionable load he’d gone off with in the last week, and Bucky was starting to become concerned.
The guy didn’t seem like a serial killer. He was always smiling, always opening doors for little old ladies and he was never overly loud or anything of that nature.
He just looked strong enough that he could probably be chopping people up in his apartment, was all. And if Bucky’s body thought that wasn’t enough incentive to stay far away from the dude, well. That was between him and his dick.
A loud banging noise from the parking lot drew Bucky’s attention back out of the window to his mysterious neighbor, who’d just nearly collided with someone by the front door. His big body was slouched, practically screaming ‘I’m not a threat!’ Bucky peeked through his blinds, nose pressed to glass, but he couldn’t see the other person. He was, however, getting a very good view of his neighbor’s ass as he carefully dropped his burden and bent to pick up what looked like an entire bookstore from the pavement.
Inspiration struck. Now was the perfect time to go talk to the guy, and at least make sure that he wasn’t hanging people up by their ankles in his apartment or anything gruesome of the like. Maybe after he could talk the guy into getting dinner or a drink or something. Assuming he wasn’t a serial killer. He just had to nonchalantly check the guy’s bag. And bonus, there was a witness in case the guy tried to ferry him away.
This plan was obviously foolproof.
The elevator was loud in the otherwise quiet complex. Most people were probably out working or enjoying the pleasant weather at this time of day. Bucky kind of thought you needed to have friends for that kind of thing, and since he’d left his friends with his ex, back when he’d decided to move here, that wasn’t exactly an option. His reflections were curtailed when the elevator stopped.
The doors opened with a tone, and Bucky stepped into the foyer. His neighbor was talking to… probably another of his neighbors, though Bucky wouldn’t know. Embarrassingly, his possible serial-killer-wet-dream was the only person he’d even exchanged two words with in this place.
Now, the guy was handing the last of the books over to the kid he’d run into, still apologizing, even though the kid didn’t look mad or anything. He was probably in college, going by the books and general youthfulness of his face. He said something low that Bucky didn’t catch, to which his favorite neighbor laughed, his whole face transforming. Bucky stood frozen as the kid walked down the steps and to the street, and his neighbor again picked up his heavy bag and started toward the elevator.
The elevator Bucky was standing in front of like a total dweeb.
The guy gave him a curious look, a cautious smile when Bucky nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get out of the guy’s way. And then, because he’d had a plan, but obviously that was failed now, he said, “Here, let me get the button for you. I have to go back upstairs and get my keys.”
The guy adjusted the weight on his shoulder, smiled more genuinely at Bucky. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” His voice was nice. Not too deep, probably a tenor. It fit him weirdly, although Bucky had half been expecting the windows to vibrate when he opened his mouth. He just had that quality to him.
Bucky had to remind himself that he didn’t actually know anything about this guy. They climbed into the elevator together and Bucky automatically hit the buttons for both his neighbor’s floor and his own. He got a weird look for that, felt the tips of his ears turning red. OK, so he knew the guy’s floor but not his name. That wasn’t too weird, right?
“I’m Steve, by the way.”
Bucky glanced at him, at Steve, and smiled what he hoped was a charming smile. He was a little out of practice with those, these days. “James,” he said. Then, because he obviously had no self-preservation instincts, like, at all, he continued, “My middle name’s Buchanan, so most folks just call me Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”
Steve only nodded, like he hadn’t just gotten a complete overshare in a crowded elevator that for some reason smelled suspiciously like paint thinner all of a sudden.
“Do you smell that?” he asked, as the doors opened for his floor.
“Crap!” Steve hurried out of the elevator and gently set his load down on the carpeted hallway. He untied the drawstring, and Bucky’s eyes widened because this had not been the plan, but it was certainly working and then—
Steve opened the bag. Bucky felt his brow furrowing as he looked at what appeared to be random recyclables? There were a few bottles of acrylic and spray paints, not to mention a large jug of paint thinner, which was leaking into the bag. That at least explained the smell.
“Are you a garbage collector?” he asked. Steve chuckled, so at least he thought Bucky was funny and not hopelessly out of his depth.
“Basically. I’m actually doing a project for an art class. Sculpture isn’t generally my thing, but we pretty much got free reign on materials, so I’ve been making lots of trips to the recycling plant a few blocks over.” Steve shrugged, as if he hadn’t just shifted Bucky’s entire world view. He stood, and pressed the button for the elevator again. “I’ll see you around, ok? Nice meeting you.”
“Yeah, you too.” And since it was clear that Steve expected him to leave and not, say, keep standing around staring at his amazingly hot neighbor, Bucky moved to his door, taking his keys from his pocket at the same time.
“Hey, looks like you don’t need to get your keys after all.”
Bucky turned back to Steve. “What?” he said, very eloquently.
Steve’s smile looked the tiniest bit smug, maybe. “Downstairs you said you’d forgotten your keys.”
“Oh. Right.” He could literally feel his face heating. “I’ll just, I was going to go um. Anyway I’ll just do it later. It’s fine.” Oh God he used to be good at talking to people.
He bolted into his apartment, having lost all hope that he didn’t totally look like an idiot for this conversation. He thought he heard Steve chuckle before he closed his door, and proceeded to slump to the floor with his hands covering his flaming face.