1983
Somewhere in Italy

Steve Rogers sighed to himself, throwing himself on the the twin sized bed, gazing at the high ceiling. His long nimble fingers gripped the yellow covers, scrunching them in his hands, veins becoming prominent on his skinny arms. His head turned to the left, then the right, then forward again.

Italy, Crema to be specific, was so different from Brooklyn. The sights, the people, especially the food. It was all so different and Steve wanted to like it, he really needed to if he was being honest. Tony had brought him here, along with his fiancée Pepper, and his mom would turn over in her grave if she knew how rude Steve was being. So he would put on the smile that he knew would make Tony happy, and just deal with the cards he'd been handed.

He would only be here for a few months, and he'd have all the time in the world to sketch and draw and do all the things that Brooklyn didn't have. But Italy didn't have his friends… okay more like friend but she was everything to Steve. Peggy was the one who was always there for him, and he felt bad leaving her all alone, but she had encouraged him to go out and see the world, "Don't you even think about not going on that trip for me Rogers…".

He shut his eyes and rubbed his fists over them, pushing those sad thoughts of home away and trying to find the light at the end of the tunnel.

A car coming up the dusty pathway alerted Steve of someone coming, but he didn't know who. He stood from the bed, knobby knees wobbling as he made his way to the window, peering down at the red car. He squinted, trying to see through the window, though trying to be inconspicuous as best he could.

He smiled as Tony stepped out of the drivers sides, smiling and speaking loudly to, presumably his guest. Steve's eyes went to the car door that was opening, breath getting caught in his throat as a man as built as a mountain stepped out. The man turned and smiled at Tony, and Steve honestly forgot to breath, which was maybe why he started coughing, which made the man turn to his open window, and prompted Steve to duck down and hide.

"Steve! Get your butt down here!"

Steve took deep breaths, calming his chest before standing up, smoothing down his shirt and running his fingers through his straight blonde hair. His red shorts were much to big for his legs, but they complimented his much too pale skin. Steve took long strides to the door, shutting it behind him and walking down the hallway, feet slapping the smooth wood as he went down the steps. He made it to the bottom and listened to see where Tony was, and smiled as he entered the library.

Tony was still talking, holding a bag, presumably the mountain mans clothes, and waving his hands around the room.

"Ahh Stevie, finally I thought you'd gotten lost or something. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, this is our houseguest for a little bit. Barnes, meet Stevie. Stevie, meet Barnes."

Steve found his breath gone, just as before, as he stared at the man Tony had called Barnes. He was, as Steve had seen before, the largest man he'd ever seen in his whole life, and he was just, well it was hard for him to describe.

His hair was like an ocean of chocolate locks that looked smother than silk, and it hung down to his shoulders. Steve found he couldn't even compare those mighty shoulders to anything, and he wondered if they were as hard as they looked. His arms were the size of watermelons, larger than Steve's whole head, and Steve bet that they could lift him up, with just one arm even.

Barnes was wearing a long sleeve shirt, gloves as well, and really, Steve wanted to drool over Barnes. His thighs were thick as tree trunks and his feet were clad in army style boots. But his face, oh his face, that was the cherry on the Sunday that he could never finish alone.

He was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous man Steve had ever gazed upon in his entire life, and truthfully, Steve could look at him all day. He was smiling at Steve, and his eyes held slight bags under them, he must have had a long trip. Steve blinked away those thoughts and noticed that Barnes was holding a hand out to him.

He shook it, throwing the older man a smile, trying not to blush at the feel of the man's larger stronger hand around his. They shook a few times, and Barnes retreated first.

Tony looked between the two men, eyebrow raised, "Well, I promised Pep I'd show her the town so uh, Steve can you show Barnes his room, actually, if you haven't settled down yet, can you give him the one I gave you? Unless you really like those yellow sheets, I feel like yellow is your color Stevie. But yeah, I'm out, so the house, well actually a Villa, a house is typically smaller, is all yours. Don't throw any parties you crazy kids." Tony walked away from the two men, calling for his fiancée.

Steve cleared his throat, smiling at Barnes, and Barnes smiled back.

"So let me show you your room, Barnes right?"

Barnes smiled, "James is fine. Only Tony calls me Barnes."

Steve smiled. James was a nice name, better than Barnes. He broke eye contact and walked to the spiral staircases, jogging up the steps, not looking back to make sure James was following him. Steve opened the door to the room that was now James, and quickly put the few things he had back in his bag, picking up his shoes and stray towel.

"You know, you don't have to give up your room. I can take a different room if you want…" James spoke quietly, muscled arm reaching behind to scratch at the nape of his neck. Steve shook his head furiously, done packing his few near and dear things.

"No, no, it's totally fine, You can uh push the beds together if you want more space or something like that…" Now Steve was the one to scratch behind his head. He picked p his bag and made his way back to the hallway, stopping when James called his name.

"Yes?"

James looked nervous to speak.

"Tony's right, yellow is your color."

Steve went bright red, the color standing out against his pale cheeks. He practically bolted into his new room, flinging himself on the bed and screaming into the pillow.

Tony and Pepper returned in time with dinner, which was just a few pizzas that smelt amazing to Steve. He had spent more time than he would like to admit smiling into his pillow thinking about James. He had found that there was a whole vineyard outside and needed to remember to paint it either tomorrow or in a few days.

Tony had called him down, telling him to get Barnes as well. And that's how Steve found himself standing in front of James door, hand raised, ready to knock and alert the man to dinner. But he found it hard to move his hand, to just knock forward and see James again.

And of course instead of just knocking, Steve opened the door and looked around the darkened room, spying the hulking form laying on the bed. The gentle rise and fall of the burly chest gave away the fact that James was asleep. Steve should've closed the door and let him be, he had looked so tired before, but he found himself walking into the dark room.

Steve noticed that James hadn't taken off his clothes, he looks like he'd fallen into bed the second Steve had left earlier. Steve bit his lip, fingers twitching, resisting the urge to touch the hidden skin. Instead, Steve walked to where his head was lying on the pillow, brown locks flowing on the pillow, and rested his dainty hand on the muscled shoulder.

Steve tapped his shoulder, eyebrows scrunching when the skin felt almost like a hard brick. He tapped the shoulder again, leaning forward with eyebrows raised, only to fall back and hit the floor when James shot up, hair swinging wildly around his head and eyes searching the dark room. He stopped where he spotted Steve, hand that had been touching his shoulder now pressed against the slim chest. James took in the scared form and laid back down, trying to calm down his racing heart.

Steve stood up and took a step back, speaking quietly and softly, "Foods downstairs." He bolted from the room, mentally berating himself for touching the sleeping man, knowing that any chance with James was gone. He barely registered his name being yelled as he ran down the stairs, refusing to go back and face him.

He slid into the kitchen, calming his racing heart as he gave Pepper and Tony a smile, though Tony saw right through it.

"You good Stevie? Something happen you wanna tell me about?" Steve shook his head, sitting down in one of the nice outdoor chairs and grabbing a slice of pizza margarita, avoiding Tony's questioning gaze. Tony shrugged it off, knowing he would get it out of Steve later.

"So Stevie, Pep and I went into town, small place really, but the people in town are just great, you should take Barnes, there are a couple bikes here up for grabs. And there was just-"

Steve barely registered Tony's voice, eyes shooting to the hulking form making its way to the patio, hair in a bun and gloves removed, though still in a long sleeve shirt. He took the seat next to Steve, larger than life arm reaching for a piece of the pizza, and Steve would never admit that his mouth watered at the sight of the muscle so close to his face.

"You holdin up Barnes? Beds good and comfy?"

It was a moment before James responded, mouth meticulously chewing the piece of saucy pizza, "I'm good." James reached forward and grabbed the pitcher of apricot juice, pouring himself a hearty glass and chugging it, a stream of stray juice going down his chin… was it wrong that Steve wanted to lick up that stream to those wet pink lips?

Pepper smiled and continued telling the story of their day out, making sure to mention the man who had mistakenly called Tony Pepper's father. And though Steve had no hard evidence, he could swear that he could feel James's eyes on him the whole time.

Steve had told Pepper and Tony that he would clean up, wanting them to rest after their day out, and they had happily agreed, which left just James and Steve.

Steve had grabbed the dishes, the empty pizza box, and the empty pitcher that had held apricot juice, somehow balancing it all in his arms. He would've made it to the kitchen, but he forgot that these old villas were made with doorstoppers, and he started to fall forward.

This was one of those moments from the books that his mother had read him when he was a kid, the moment where the princess falls into the princes arms and they gaze into each other's eyes as the world fades apart, and that was sorta what happened. A muscled arm wrapped around Steve's midsection, pulling him against a hard chest, and his head was thrown back on a hard shoulder.

Steve felt the breath leave his lungs, that seemed to be happening a lot around James, and he felt the pitcher slip from his fingers.

It all happened so fast, he saw a glint of sliver and then the pitcher was caught mid air, and Steve gasped, pushing back into the chest at what he saw.

James had a metal arm. Like, an arm made of metal that looked shinier than the silver watches Tony loved to wear. And yet, Steve only found he wanted to touch it, to see if it was as smooth as real skin was meant to be, or if it would feel rough under his fingers. Steve wondered if it was cooler than body temperature, and if it would feel sweet against the heat of Steves skin?

Steve turned around, hands still full, and looked at James. And the man looked scared, probably scared that Steve would run away, shy from his touches, and never look at him again. But that wasn't Steve.

"Wanna help me clean up? Two's better than one." Steve gave a little laugh and walked to the kitchen, this time fall free, and smiled when he heard James follow him. Steve washed, and James dried, he didn't want to ask if the arm couldn't get wet, instead just rolling up his sleeves and doing the dirty work.

Once it was all done, the two men just stood in the kitchen. James was looking anywhere but Steve, and Steve was trying to catch his eye. Steve was trying to get the courage to speak, but found his voice was gone, and he was struck immobile. He was scared, he didn't want to be rejected, or laughed at, or just told no. He had been told his whole life that he would never survive, that his body wasn't built to live, yet here he was. He just needed to get out and say-

"Do you wanna show me around tomorrow?"

James looked at the dumbstruck boy, smiling at the wide blue eyes that seemed to be looking at him like he was crazy, though a smile quickly broke out on the shorter mans face.

"I'd love that James."

James nodded and walked away, real and metal arms shoved into his pockets, and Steve stood there in the dark kitchen, smiling at the prospect of what tomorrow would bring.

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