A/N: This was actually NOT written while under the influence of alcohol. Just the influence of my own insanity. Enjoy at your own risk.
"I can do this all day," Steve tried to say sternly, hands on hips as he stared down at his overly excited Labrador, Tango. He was trying to train the huge puppy to obey his "sit" command but after 30 minutes of trial and error, things weren't going so well. Steve had depleted his entire store of treats and Tango was wagging his tail smugly, knowing that his puppy dog eyes had worked on Steve.
At nearly 100 pounds, the dog was almost bigger and heavier than Steve was ever going to be. Having been small his entire life and half blind to boot, he had been provided with the idea of getting a dog to help ward off the bullies that often came after him.
"I don't need a dog!" he had protested firmly against his mother's pleas over the phone.
"Steven Grant Rogers, you will get a dog or some help me God I will come down to Brooklyn myself and-" from there things had escalated to the point of Steve just putting down his phone and staring at the clock for a full minute before picking it back up and telling his mother he'd go to the shelter the next day.
That was how he had met Tango. Or Tango had met him since he had been barreling down a hall, almost as if he were expecting Steve to be coming to adopt him and knocked Steve down before clambering all over him in excitement. It was love at first sight.
Ever since then, he had taken Tango on walks everyday to the local dog park, trying every time to get Tango to learn at least some sort of obedience. But Tango was as stubborn as Steve was. It didn't bode well for any sort of training.
"Another failed day I guess," Steve mumbled to Tango and knelt down to scratch him under the chin watching as the puppy rolled over in excitement, begging for a bell scratch.
Chuckling, Steve gave in for a moment then stood, tugging on Tango's leash, telling him that they needed to get home soon so that he could work on some of his paintings for art class. He was so behind after having a lack of inspiration and had hoped a walk to the park would strike something inside him but it was not to be it seemed.
Feeling a buzz in his jeans, Steve awkwardly shuffled the leash to his other hand, trying to get his hand lodged into his pocket in time to pick up the call, not watching where he was going. A moment later, he felt a thud and ran into something solid. Not something, someone.
Looking up, startled, Steve was met with possibly the grayest eyes he'd ever seen, almost silver, set against the dark brooding stare of another man. The two of them seemed to just look at each other for an eternity. Only jolted from their gaze as they were jerked further together, Steve stumbling and instinctively reaching out a hand to keep his balance, coming in contact with the other man's chest.
"Sorry," he mumbled, blushing, as he looked down, seeing Tango's leash tangled together with another dog, this one a stoic looking German Shepard.
"No, I'm…I'm sorry," the other man said, settling his hands on Steve's shoulders and setting him upright. "Whiskey gets a little excited when he see's other dogs he hasn't met before."
Steve looked back at the man and provided him with a shy smile. "Um, I'm Steve," he said, "and that crazy animal is Tango." Steve leaned down to try to untangle the leashes, not noticing that the other man was doing the same, and the pair bumped heads roughly.
Pulling back painfully and becoming even more caught up in the criss cross of leather and furry animals, they both fell backwards onto the sidewalk, legs pressed against each other.
"Sorry," both said at the same time again, rubbing their heads where each had bumped the other. The other man laughed, eyes crinkling happily and he said, "I'm Bucky by the way."
Steve rubbed his forehead once more and finally unwound Tango's leash, swaying slightly as he stood. "I would say it's nice to meet you, but with all this head bumping and falling over, my mind is telling me otherwise."
Bucky laughed easily, standing as well, Whiskey parked next to him, blinking up at Bucky patiently, unfazed by their tussle. Meanwhile, Tango was eagerly sniffing Bucky and Whiskey, even going so far as to lick Bucky's hand.
"Tango! Leave the nice man alone!" Steve tried to order him, but Bucky just smiled easily.
"He's alright," Bucky quickly assured Steve and gave Tango a scratch, somehow finding that special place beneath his chin that he loved best almost instantaneously.
"So," Bucky straightened up, "are you a painter?"
"How could you tell?" Steve asked, still slightly star struck from Bucky's eyes (and probably the bump on his head).
Bucky smirked and gestured to Steve's hands and clothes. "You're covered in paint. Unless this one," he winked at Tango, "got you into some other sort of trouble before you even bumped into me."
Feeling foolish and blushing darkly, Steve ran a hand down his clothes, forgetting that he had neglected to change before leaving his apartment. "I take an art class at one of the colleges around here. I actually came to the park to get some inspiration." And found it, he mentally added to himself. The way Bucky's eyes seemed to shift in intensity from a steel aluminum to a softer gray fog, was something he wanted seared onto a canvas, and Steve was itching to get back to his paints.
"I'm uh, sorry for bumping into you Bucky," he said quickly, feeling embarrassed again. "It was nice meeting you though. Come on Tango, say goodbye to Whiskey."
Whiskey didn't even give a tail wag as Steve tried to urge Tango along, but Bucky laughed and caught his arm gently. "Woah, what's your hurry? Got a hot date waiting for you?"
"Definitely not," Steve said, color rising in his cheeks again, at this rate they were going to be stained as red as the time they had to do nude drawings in class last semester.
"Good," Bucky said confidently. "Take a walk with us?" he asked, offering a crooked smile that Steve knew he would never be able to say no to. Bucky, sensing Steve's hesitation though, rolled his eyes and said, "It's the least you can do for almost giving me a concussion. It's not every day I run into an adorable punk like yourself."
"I did no such thing!" Steve retorted, but laughed and fell into step beside Bucky nonetheless. "And I'm not a punk…jerk," he added quietly, but smiling all the same.
Bucky just smirked and said, "So? Art student huh? What's that like?"
Steve sighed heavily. "It's good when I'm inspired, otherwise it's…" he paused, trying to find the right words. "It's tortuous."
"Are you also starving and only living on coffee and cigarettes?" Bucky smiled, trying to hide his mirth.
"It's a very serious medium!" Steve exclaimed, thinking Bucky was being malicious.
"Joking! Joking!" Bucky cried out, lifting his hands in surrender and Steve glowered down at his shoes.
"Geez I'm screwing this all up," Bucky mumbled and Steve flicked his eyes up to him, squinting slightly as the sun shone down on him, almost as if it were encasing Bucky in a halo. "Can we start over? I'm Bucky and I'm being a huge ass."
Steve's mouth quirked into a smile, feeling more confident. "Steve. Lover of huge asses."