Growing up, Steve doesn't think much about kissing.
He's either too sick or too poor to be concerned with much else. Bucky seems to be obsessed with it, though, trying to kiss every pretty girl in their grade. On a rare day when Steve is healthy enough to go out, Bucky will drag him onto dates with a girl and her friend. Steve hates it when Bucky does this, because he and the friend just end up awkward third and fourth wheels on an otherwise fully capable bicycle.
They're in Bucky's room, doing their homework and eating the candy buttons they managed to buy after scraping their spare change together. Steve just wants to get the work done, but Bucky won't shut up about girls. It's not that Steve doesn't like girls. Indeed, he thinks a pretty girl in a sun dress is a fine thing to look at as much as any other fellow. It's that all their attention seems to go towards Bucky, who soaks it up eagerly.
"I got a date with Nancy Fitzgibbon on Friday," Bucky says, peeling a candy button off of the wax paper and popping it into his mouth. "And Mary Parker on Saturday."
Steve flips through the history text book that they share. Their school can't afford one for every kid. "That doesn't seem fair. What if one of them finds out about the other?"
"Aw, a little competition is good for a girl," says Bucky. "Makes them better kissers anyway."
"I wouldn't know," says Steve. He's never kissed a girl. It wouldn't bother him so much if Bucky would just shut up about every girl he's locked lips with.
Bucky frowns and looks away, giving Steve the distinct impression that he feels sorry for him. He hates this feeling. Teachers, girls, and some of the less confrontational boys he knows all look at him a certain way sometimes, like he might keel over any minute.
"Kissing a girl ain't all that different from kissing anybody else," Bucky says quietly. "Lips are all the same in the end, I guess."
"I guess," says Steve, shrugging. He scratches out some notes onto his paper, hoping that Bucky will change the subject.
"Well, just… here."
Reaching out and turning Steve's head to face him, Bucky kisses Steve on the mouth. It's little more than a peck, lips pressing against his own for about a full second. Bucky pulls away, and Steve just stares at him.
"What the hell was that for?"
Bucky rolls his eyes and sits back on the bed. "Just trying to say that you ain't missing out on much."
Steve blinks at him for a couple seconds before grabbing a pillow and chucking it in his face.
Agent Carter is the nicest, toughest, smartest, most beautiful girl Steve has ever met. It occurs to him that he might have met girls who are just as nice and tough and smart, but never knew because he never really talked to them. He's glad he talked to her, though. She treats him like a person, not a nuisance or something to be pitied.
He doesn't see her for a while after his transformation and the death of Dr. Erskine. She flies off the Europe with Colonel Phillips while Steve goes on tour. One would think that since now he's not a scrawny little twig anymore, talking to girls would be easier, but it's not. The showgirls all try to talk to him at first, try to get him to come out with them after the show and go dancing, but he's too stiff and awkward. They get bored with him after a while.
When the show performs in Italy to a crowd of wet, tired, and resentful soldiers, Steve has had enough. He doesn't want to be this dancing monkey anymore, and thankfully Peggy understands. She looks at him with her big brown eyes, pursing her perfectly painted red lips and agrees to secure a plane for him.
Steve wishes that the pilot were anyone other than Howard Stark. Peggy assures him that Stark is the best civilian pilot available, but Steve doesn't like the way he looks at her. He certainly didn't like the way he kissed a girl on stage at the Expo. Kisses shouldn't be put on display like that.
Besides, what does fondue even mean?
He gets Bucky back, and it's one of the proudest moments in his life. Bucky is his best friend, his brother. There is no way he could let him rot away in some Hydra lab. He smiles and gestures to Peggy when they get back to camp, like she's one of the girls in high school that he could take out on Friday, only to take out another girl on Saturday.
As much as he secretly appreciates the gesture Bucky made all those years ago, Steve is sure that kissing Bucky is nothing like kissing Peggy, especially when she's wearing that red dress. Brooklyn girls in a sundresses can't compare to that. Bucky can't compare to that.
The blonde secretary that pulls him down by his necktie can't either, but it's not like he can explain that to Peggy.
Howard is delighted to see the shield deflect bullets, even if he has to duck under a work table to do it. After Peggy puts down the gun and leaves, Steve slumps against the wall, holding the shield to his chest. He feels so stupid and naive and small. How was he supposed to know that girl wanted to kiss him? No girls have ever wanted to kiss him.
Wriggling the shield out of Steve's hands, Howard hands it to an assistant to be painted. He smiles and puts his hand on Steve's shoulder.
"Dames got you down?" Howard asks.
Steve shrugs. "If you can call gettin' shot at down."
"I know just the thing that'll cheer you up." Howard says, grinning. "If you're up for it."
"I'm up for anything, honestly." Steve says.
Howard's grin widens and he grabs Steve by the arm, pulling him off the wall. Dragging him through the workshop, Howard leads him into an empty hallway.
"Where are we going?" asks Steve, glancing around for other people.
Looking back at him, Howard flashes another smile. "Somewhere private."
They reach a secluded storage closet and Howard drags him in, closing the door closed behind him. Steve expects him to take out some booze or something, but instead he pushes him up against the wall and kisses him.
Steve stiffens and blinks, wondering how many unsolicited kisses a man can receive in one day. Howard's mustache tickles Tony's nose as he pulls away, licking his lips and looking up at Steve like he's particularly proud of himself.
"Um." Steve swallows. "Was that supposed to make me feel better?"
"Naw, that was for me." Howard says. He points at Steve. "This is for you."
He reaches for Steve's belt buckle and pulls at it. Steve's heart jumps up into his throat as he tries to look at anything in this storage room but Howard undoing his fly. He closes his eyes when he feels Howard's warm hand slip into his shorts and grip his cock. No one besides himself and the doctor has ever touched him there before.
With his other hand, Howard reaches up and holds onto the back of Steve's neck, pulling him down and pressing their foreheads together. He half-expects Howard to kiss him again, but he doesn't. His breathing is loud in Steve's ears as he pulls his hardening cock out and begins to stroke it.
Steve is lost in the moment. Many moments, in fact. He's back on Bucky's bed, getting shown what he's not missing. He's in the Hydra station, wondering if he can really make that jump. Howard strokes faster, harder, gripping Steve and pulling at him with abandon.
No one's ever touched him like this before. Steve can't really blame himself for coming so quickly. He grits his teeth and lets out a low, guttural sound as come spills out into Howard's hand. Howard smiles and steps back, grabbing an old washcloth hanging off a crate and cleaning himself.
"See?" He says. "Nothing like a good rub and tug to lift a man's spirits."
Steve slumps agains the hall and takes a deep breath. "Right."
Howard grabs the door knob and stops before opening it. He looks back at Steve, snaps his fingers and points at him. "We should get fondue sometime.
With that, he's gone, off to work on some high-tech project that Steve will never understand. Steve closes his eyes and sighs. He can't say that he feels better, but he doesn't exactly feel worse, either.
Maybe he's not missing out on anything at all.