This fic has been in my mind for over a year now. I first got the idea with write it as a WW2 novel, but then, after watching Captain America for the first time – I know, I was faar behind on that one, but honestly I had no idea it excited, as CA isn't very big in Denmark, and the movie was rather a failure. Anyway, after watching the movie, I decided to change my now OC characters into Marvel characters instead, and then I sort of created this entire story in my head, without ever writing it down before now.

Enjoy.

P.S IMPORTANT: right now it may seem like Steve/OC or even Steve/Bucky, it is not. This story will be Steve/Loki. Mainly.

Chapter One.

He was nervous. Not anything new about that, he was often nervous, though he tried not to ever let it show. But being nervous for a date was perfectly normal, Bucky had often told him so, so at this point Steve had simply given up on hiding his nerves, and instead paced the room. The tie was loose around his neck, he had been unable to tie it properly, and had now given up, hoping that Bucky had more steady hands when he arrived to pick him up.

He had never met the girl before – which was quite common for his dates, it wasn't very often a girl agreed to go out him after they met, and if she did, it was simply because she pitied him or because she found that he was just so darn adorable.

She was a girlfriend of Kimberley, the girl Bucky was currently dating, – again, very common – and he had been told, by Kim – she insisted to be called that – that Johanna was very pretty, blonde, and preferred music over paintings and fish over steak.

The fact that she didn't enjoy paintings he couldn't understand, but he was in no position to be picky, and surely if he fell in love with her, it wouldn't matter anyway. As long as she was kind, he could not really complain.

When the doorbell rang, Steve gave a fright. He had been startled out of his thoughts, and had to compose himself for a moment before rushing to open the door, revealing Bucky who was currently sporting a nice button-up plaid shirt, a pair for nicely ironed black pants and a smug grin. There was plenty of time until their dates had to be picked up, and Steve sorely needed it, which Bucky, of course, knew.

"You ready, champ?" he said, slamming his hand down on Steve's smaller shoulder, nearly topping the other one into the ground with his weight.

"You know I'm not," frustrated, Steve ran a hand through his hair, well aware that he was messing it up, pulling it out of place when he finally, only moments ago, had decided he was finished with it, and that it wasn't getting any better.

Instead of answering straight away, Bucky simply stepped into the apartment behind Steve, with a confidence in his step that Steve could never master, no matter how hard to he tried. He shot a quick look around the room, taking in the mess of clothes Steve had tried on, and different art sketches that were a permanent feature in Steve's living space.

"Come here then," he gestured for Steve to follow him. The smaller one obliged, quickly moving to stand in front of his friend.

"I'm not sure I want to go after all."

Bucky huffed out a small laugh, adept hands reaching up to tie the tie around Steve's neck. He stepped back as he finished, watching his work, as Steve fidgeted with the offending thing around his neck and glanced nervously around the room. Was it getting hotter in here?

"Stop being stupid," Bucky emphasized this by poking Steve on the forehead, "you are going, and you are going to have a good time and that's final."

There was a moment of silence, before they both started laughing.

"You sound like a mom," Steve wheezed out between laughs, clutching his sides as his laughter reduced to chuckles instead. Bucky responded by punching him on the shoulder.

"Yeah well, one of us has to be sensible, and this clearly not you, judging by the way you've been manhandling your hair."

Bucky ruffled said hair, and began untying the tie around Steve's neck, mumbling that it looked better without it, and no girl wanted an uptight man anyways, so Steve had to try and look casual but proper at the same time. Tossing the tie onto a nearby chair, Bucky once again grasped Steve by the shoulder, bending over to look his friend straight into the eyes.

"But seriously Steve, if you don't want to go, you don't have to," he said in a serious tone, "I'll tell them you got ill or something, they'll never know."

Steve looked back at his best friend for a moment, debating in his head, whether he truly wanted to go or not. In the end he shrugged off the hand resting on him, walked towards the door and grabbed his too-large jacket. He paused; hand on the door handle, throwing a cheeky grin over his shoulder to a silent Bucky, who was watching him with a smile.

"You coming or what?"

Bucky hurried, for which Steve was glad. He didn't want too much time to dwell, in fear that he would change his mind. But, he was going now, and hopefully, he would not regret this decision.

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