Chapter 1- Napkins

Basically, it was all Clint's fault.

Or, rather, Clint should have been thanked. But nobody was to know that when the night started.

The four settled at their usual booth, Natasha sliding in first, followed by Clint, then Bucky, then Steve. Steve was always on the end because he always needed to slip out and use the bathroom, usually to wash his hands or get a paper towel after a clumsily drunk Clint spilled his drink all over Natasha or Bucky.

The four would usually just go there purely to drink and wash away the troubles of avenging the world and protecting its inhabitants. Tony sometimes followed along, but he was usually too preoccupied in his lab with Bruce to join them outside of the tower. Thor never joined them after that one night when he drank five times as much as any of them and was demanding more, even when the bartender cut him off. He was so confused and frustrated that only Natasha and Steve could hold him back from being disruptive to everyone around them.

So from that moment on, it was just the four of them. Often, Tony joked that they were double-dating, and all four would protest vehemently. Not because the idea of dating the other was repulsive, just because it wasn't happening.

Well, not yet anyway.

Clint and Natasha would go on to date for a long time before splitting up and remaining the close friends they had always been without any damage to their unique bond.

And Steve and Bucky? Well, that was where the story started.

"I feel like doing something different tonight," Clint announced, finishing off his triple vodka with red bull like a professional. Natasha always requested more vodka than mixer in her glasses and when the bartender had looked at her the first time, she had shrugged and simply said "I'm Russian". Now, Jeremy had the good sense to overload her drinks with vodka. Now, she just drank it straight with no mixer. Bucky would too and Nat was glad to have somebody with her. Steve could have joined in, but he hated the taste of vodka and he couldn't get drunk anyway, so what was the point? Plus, Clint didn't want to seem like the weaker man for adding various mixers to his alcoholic beverage.

Natasha frowned at him. "You want to cheat on the bar and go somewhere else? Well, you can explain that to Jeremy."

Clint shook his head quickly. "No, not that. This place is great. I just mean that we always just sit and drink and offload about our lives. Maybe we should make things interesting." He gave her a look that neither Steve nor Bucky could interpret, but she had a twinkle in her eye after that.

"I see. What would you suggest?"

"Let's wait for the night to move on a little. I have a feeling a lot more alcohol is needed."

Steve and Bucky shared a strange look, but ignored it as Jeremy brought over some more drinks for the table. The night went on as usual, each of them telling unique mission stories.

"So, one time I was in London on an intel collection mission," Steve recounted with a smile. "Fury had labelled it of high importance that I wasn't to be spotted. I thought that would be obvious, but apparently I needed to be told again.

"So I'm walking around London, trying not to appear out of the ordinary as I notice how much everything has changed. I'm standing by this newspaper stand when this guy comes up to me and starts flirting. And I mean like flirting. I usually don't recognise when people are flirting with me, but this time it was obviously. I was a little perturbed, because I've literally never seen a guy flirt with another guy on a busy city street."

Clint smirked, as though a lightbulb had just appeared over his head. "Did you flirt back?" He sent a silent message of some variety to Natasha, who nodded, eyes trained on Bucky. He was stoic, jaw clenched and his metal hand was clenched into a tight fist.

Steve shrugged. "I don't even know. I answered his questions politely, but I don't know what flirting looks like these days. Eventually, I made an excuse to leave. I guess I just wasn't really into him. It showed me how much I need to improve flirting if I'm ever going to find someone."

Bucky smirked. "I'll drink to that," he said and downed his drink.

A few seconds later, Clint jumped in with his idea. "Why don't you two have a contest? See how many phone numbers you can get tonight. See who's better at flirting?"

Steve looked at Bucky, who frowned. "That's like asking a fish and a giraffe to have a swimming contest," the latter said with a smirk.

"You're not a giraffe, James," Natasha pouted hilariously. Clint banged his hand against the table, laughing. Steve rolled his eyes and turned to Bucky.

"Well I suppose you're up for this. Fine, whatever. How long do we have and what are the rules?"

Clint checked his S.H.I.E.L.D watch and shrugged. "We'll leave around two thirty. Spend as long as you want trying. Whoever gets the most napkins at the end of the night, wins. Whoever loses has to do a forfeit that Nat and I will decide while you're gone."

Steve slid out of the booth and helped Bucky out. "No hard feelings when I win, Barnes."

"Do you even remember the forties? I was surrounded by eligible suitors. You don't stand a chance, Rogers."

Natasha sighed at their horrible trash talk and got their attention. "So you've got three hours. Go!"

Steve and Bucky scrambled off to go and find their first targets. Clint turned to Natasha smugly.

"How much of a genius am I? Go on, you can admit it."

"If it works, then I'll admit it. Now let's make this more interesting. Let's place a bet on who's going to win."

Clint rubbed his hands together. "Fifty dollars?"

"One hundred."

Clint shrugged. "Okay, deal. My money's on Steve. Sure, Bucky's hot and all, but Steve's more people's type."

"But we know Bucky's better at the flirting thing. Steve never knows quite what to say."

"Still, I'm betting on Steve."

"They're going to tie and end up making out in the bathroom."

Clint frowned. "That's very specific, how could you possibly know that?"

"Just a hunch."

Bucky smiled warmly at the guy rooted around for his phone. That was almost too easy. People are so eager these days, Bucky thought as the guy copied down his number. Bucky folded the napkin into his pocket and smiled. "Thanks, I'll make sure to give you a call." The guy nodded and returned to his friends. Bucky stalked around the room looking for someone else. Steve was never going to win this.

Steve, actually, was doing rather well. He had charmed a girl into buying him a drink and then she had given him her phone number. Steve felt a little bad about not actually pursuing any of the people he had met tonight any further, but he guessed that was part of the game. He looked over by chance and saw Bucky with his regular arm on a guy's shoulder at the bar. Steve grew uncontrollably…well, he didn't know exactly what. It was a strong emotion and all he knew was that he did not want Bucky to be touching anyone but him!

Oh.

Oh.

Steve quickly parted ways with the unnamed girl and strode past Bucky, latching onto his metal arm and hoisting him along to the bathroom.

Bucky coughed. "Steve, what the hell? I'm pretty sure that intercepting me is cheating!"

Steve entered the somehow empty bathroom and pressed Bucky against the wall.

"What are you—?"

Bucky was cut off by Steve slamming his lips into his own, fiercely and tightly. Steve's fingers ran through his hand and he bit down gently on Bucky's bottom lip, pulling away with a smirk.

"Fucking hell, Steve. Where did you learn to do that?"

Steve eyed him pointedly. "Seriously? That's your first question?"

He grinned. "Well, I want to send a muffin basket to whomever taught you to kiss like that."

"Can I kiss you again?"

"Stevie, you can kiss me anytime you like. I mean it."

Steve laughed. "I'll definitely take you up on that, Buck." Steve immediately pressed his lips to Bucky's neck, sucking on the tender skin as Bucky ran a hand down his back. Bucky redirected Steve's lips to his own, sliding his hands up Steve's shirt and feeling the warm, solid muscle that came with being a super soldier.

"Someone's getting a little bit frisky," Steve chuckled as he pulled away once more, very reluctantly.

"I finally got you all to myself, Steve. I'm not gonna let that one go in a hurry." Bucky eyed Steve's arm in between his legs. "Neither are you, apparently."

"I dragged you in here because something clicked, Buck. I saw you talking to that guy and touching on him and I got so mad that it wasn't me you were touching."

"And now you can't get enough. I'm so good at flirting I even attracted the competition."

Steve chuckled darkly. "Fuck the competition," he said and resumed with the oh so delightful kissing.

"I think I just might," Bucky mumbled seductively.

Everything was blissful and perfect until they heard a voice.

"I knew it!" Natasha cheered triumphantly. "You owe me a hundred big ones, Barton."

Clint frowned. "Wait. This is great you two, really, we're happy for you but we need to know how many napkins you each got."

"Oh. For the little bet of yours, I presume?" Steve glared at them.

They pulled apart and rifled through the various napkins that they had both collected.

Bucky smiled. "Twenty six."

Clint raised his eyebrows, impressed, but looked at Steve eagerly. "Rogers?"

"Twenty seven," he said shortly. "Can I get back to kissing my boyfriend now?"

"Boyfriend, eh?" Bucky smirked. "That sounds like something I can do."

Natasha was furious. "Barnes, you idiot! You were supposed to be good at this!" She slapped him around the head. "Come on, we're leaving. You two can go back to your floors and do whatever unholy thing you feel like, but, Bucky, you're so making this up to me in the morning."

As the two walked out of the bathroom, Clint poked Steve's chest.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down, Cap!" Clint fell against the wall, apparently too inebriated to stand.

Steve chuckled and raised an eyebrow at Clint. "Do you need carrying, Agent Barton?"

Clint shook his head, but clearly he did need carrying because Steve hoisted him into a fireman's lift and began to leave the bathroom.

Clint laughed slightly and slapped Steve's ass firmly. "You got one hell of an ass, Cap. If you're not putting that to good use tonight, it'll be a crime against men everywhere."

Steve skipped the surprise he supposed he should have felt, but it was Clint and things like that were bound to slip out of his mouth, especially when drunk.

Besides, it wasn't like he was didn't have a good point. Steve was definitely putting it to good use tonight. He needed Bucky more than ever and found himself walking more quickly to catch up with the other two.

Clint sighed. "I think I'm going to throw up."

Steve gritted his teeth and prayed that would not happen, putting Clint down gently and slinking an arm around the archer's shoulders. "You good?"

"Yep, I can totally walk."

Steve rolled his eyes at the blatant lie as the car that Tony arranged for them appeared. Natasha guided Clint into the front with her while Steve and Bucky took the back.

The two men looked at each other intensely.

"This is really happening isn't it?"

Steve's hand ran along Bucky's strong thigh as their lips met for a short kiss. Both were smiling brightly, as though they should have noticed their feelings a very long time ago and done something about it then.

"It only took about eighty years."

"I knew I loved you back then, you know. I just didn't know what you would say. You were very traditional in the forties."

Steve sighed. "If only we'd have discovered everything so much more quickly."

"Well we're here now and that's what counts. We're together and nothing can break us."

Steve figured that he might as well say it. "I love you, Bucky Barnes."

Bucky leaned in and smirked. "I love you, Steve Rogers."