Of course this had to happen. Of course out of all days, he had to choose mother of God TODAY to take the subway. Jesus Christ.

Bucky ran his prosthetic through his scraggly hair, then rubbed his face and sighed. And OF COURSE he chose to heed the wise words of the great Tony Stark himself.

You need to get out more, he said. Stop wasting your time on that goddamned couch, he said. Go for a walk, he said.

Okay, so maybe Tony and just about everyone in his life (and by everyone he means Sam and Natasha) were right. Maybe he did spend too much time moping around watching re-runs of Clean House all day. Maybe he did need to get out, breath the fresh air, actually interact with people. So that's what he decided to do. He walked out of his apartment on a bright Saturday morning, early enough so there wouldn't be too many people to cause him anxiety but just enough to actually force him to say some pleasantries, be polite, and then be on his jolly good way.

And what better way to see people than to take the subway?

Wrong. Oh how wrong he was.

For one thing he didn't have a metro card, so he had to go to the front desk and actually acquire one. Then he had to go to one of those ATM-but-not-really-ATM machines and buy a ticket. It shouldn't have been that hard right? Press a few buttons, put in a couple dollars, that was it. Except he didn't know how to fucking work the damn machine.

Guess this is what happens when you spend a whole three years in the goddamn army.

There were way too many options! And at one point he had accidentally pressed the 'Spanish' option. The machine also wouldn't take his dollar bills, AND the touch screen wouldn't work with his prosthetic. Bucky could practically feel the line of people glaring daggers at his back and the impatient tapping of their feet.

He ran his hand through his hair again and tried to calm down. He could do this, just calm down Barnes. Relax.

"Hey man! You're holding up the line! Move it along would ya?!" One of the people in line yelled.

The people behind him grumbled impatiently in response.

Bucky was starting to get antsy now. Come on Barnes, let's try not to have a mental breakdown in a subway station shall we?

"I-I'm sorry, I—" He stuttered out, but then clamped his mouth shut. His breathing was growing shallow, and his heart was beating even faster now.

"What's taking so long?!"

"I really need to get going."

I'm gonna be so late for my appointment."

"Come on man! Hurry it up!"

Bucky felt sweat stains growing under his shirt. He turned around to face the horde of angry pedestrians.

"I-I really am sorry, here, lemme just—" He moved to get out of the way. His head was spinning. If he didn't get out of there fast, he was sure he was going to lash out and be taken away by security. And that was the last thing he wanted.

A warm hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph he almost jumped a mile of out of his skin.

"Here, lemme help you," a kind voice said. Bucky looked up to find the kind voice matching a pair of stark blue eyes, blonde hair, and very very nice muscles.

"Uh," Bucky couldn't help but gawk at the guy's face. The guy was, for lack of a better word, HOT. Their faces were only a few centimeters apart, and he could really see how blue his eyes were. Bucky suddenly grew conscious of the close proximity they were in.

Hot Blonde Guy smiled. "Where to?"

"Oh, um," Bucky blushed and returned his gaze to the map now displayed on the screen. At least he had calmed down enough to be able to focus again. "I guess, uh, here?" He randomly pointed to the first dot he saw. 'Highland Park' it read.

Hot Blonde Guy's expression brightened (if they were out in broad daylight Bucky would probably go blind by now). "Oh! I'm actually heading near the area myself. How about I just pay for both our tickets then?" He started inserting his money into the slot.

It took pretty much all of Bucky's effort to draw him out of his daydreaming before he realized what Hot Blonde Guy had said. "Er, wait—"But before he could protest further, two tickets came out.

He leaned in closer to Bucky. "We should probably go before we annoy more people," he whispered, the heat of his voice radiating in Bucky's ear. Bucky felt his ears grow hot and he quickly ducked his head, following Hot Blonde Guy through the turnstiles and out onto the platform.

He could feel the wind from the subways rushing by him. Thankfully, the dizziness and anxiety was already starting to fade away. It would almost be relaxing if it wasn't for the really hot musclely guy standing right next to him. Oh and the people.

"I'm sorry," he spoke out. Bucky was granted with a sheepish look and a light blush from the guy's face. "I didn't mean to intrude, but you looked like you were about to panic any second and well…"

Bucky raised his eyebrow, probing him to continue.

"I-I know the feeling. So." He rubbed his neck and looked everywhere but at Bucky. He was obviously trying not to look at him. Bucky couldn't help but laugh at this.

"Hey, don't laugh, I was really trying to be a gentleman just now." But Hot Blonde Guy was clearly smiling.

After recovering from the laughter Bucky found the guy staring at him expectantly. Now would probably be a good time to use those pleasantries.

He stuck his hand out. "Um, James Buchanan Barnes, nice to meet ya. B-but you can just call me Bucky. At least uh, that's what everyone else calls me. I think."

Hot Blonde Guy smirked. "So you think people call you Bucky?" Bucky blinked, trying to process what he said before blushing furiously. He ducked his head, focusing all of his attention on the floor.

"And um.. thanks," he added awkwardly to the ground. Okay, they were right. He really did need to go out more often.

The guy looked down at his extended hand. Bucky followed his gaze and noticed that he had stuck out his prosthetic, not his right hand. Crap. So much for not weirding him out. But Hot Blonde Guy just grasped his prosthetic and acted as if nothing was wrong.

"Steven Grant Rogers, but you can just call me Steve," Hot Blonde— no, Steve, grinned back. "And you're welcome, any time." They both smiled at each other, hands still clasped.

Train F is now arriving. Please step behind the line as the subway approaches. Thank you.

The two men jumped apart at the sudden announcement. Bucky felt his face heat up and settled for staring at the very interesting murals on the wall.

He heard Steve clear his throat and laugh nervously. "Er, well, we should probably get going now." He gestured to the doors. "After you?"


"So? And what happened after that?" Natasha inquired, stealing a sip from Clint's beer. He slapped her hands away and took the bottle back.

"Mine," Clint said in a childish voice. Natasha stuck out her tongue and proceeded to plaster a very wet kiss onto his cheek.

"Naaaaat."

Bucky rolled his eyes and took a sip from his own beer. "Jeez, get a room you two."

They were all in Nat and Clint's living room, with Bucky recounting his disastrous attempt to take the subway. Nat and Clint were huddled up on their couch, while Bucky was lying on the floor.

Nat and Clint had been together for almost three years already. They had met in college, and they really couldn't keep their hands off each other. Not to mention they were partners in crime when it came to teasing Bucky relentlessly. Talk about the perfect couple right there.

Clint was a pretty okay guy, and Bucky didn't really seem to mind him. If Nat liked him, then Bucky liked him too. Nat's judgment was usually right anyways. Plus, Clint was a great drinking buddy whenever Nat was out of town working on some secret CIA mission.

"Maybe you should get a room with Subway Guy," Natasha said under her breath, but loud enough for both of them to hear. Clint high-fived her.

"Thanks guys, real mature," Bucky muttered. See, perfect couple.

Nat was clearly excited by this sudden new development in his life, but she acted like he was going to marry Subway Guy—no, STEVE, and have, like, twenty of his hot blonde babies. Not that he wouldn't mind of course.

"Come on Romeo, tell us what happened," Clint implored. Bucky gave him a withering look.

"I told you guys, all we did was ride the subway to Highland Park and then we… went our separate ways. Period. End of story." Which was true, at least for the most part. They may have talked the whole way there. And possibly exchanged numbers. Possibly, of course. But the other half was still true. After they left the station Steve had to hightail it out of there because he was late for a meeting with his friend, leaving Bucky to fend for himself in the crowd of people. It was a miracle he was even able to make it back home in one piece. He promised himself never to take the subway again without at least some back-up.

"What, that's it?" Natasha asked disappointedly.

"I told you, it wasn't THAT interesting." He swirled his bottle before taking another sip.

"You didn't even get his number?"

Bucky had to remind himself not to blush and play it cool.

"Uh, no, not exactly." Okay, that didn't sound very convincing, but luckily Nat didn't poke any further. She may be nosy about his life, but she knew her limits. She would probably bring it up again later without Clint around.

"Sucks that you didn't get Subway Guy's number though," Clint said. Were they really going to call him that now? He had a name for god sakes.

"More like you can't suck his—"

Bucky almost threw his beer bottle.


Bucky yawned, his eyes staring blearily at the TV screen.

He had already watched an entire season of America's Next Top Model in the last half hour maybe? He was now starting How I Met Your Mother and he was already growing bored. Watching hours of TV shows was pretty exhausting after all.

Bucky rolled over and stretched when he felt something vibrate against him. He peeled back the blankets to find his phone tucked into one of the cushions. It was a pretty standard flip phone, but Tony had given him enough lectures about 'the future of today' and a bunch of other crap he didn't really care about. He didn't need some fancy new smart phone, especially because he would most likely break the screen with his prosthetic. He just needed something to call and text people, that's all. Tony had also referred to him as a grandpa and, he quotes, "A disgrace to the human race and why isn't there any whipped cream left in your fridge?!"

He flipped his phone open to find a text from Sam.

12:59 pm

From: Sam

To: Bucky

hey man. starbucks. now?

1:01 pm

From: Bucky

To: Sam

gimme 5

Bucky groaned lazily as he pulled himself up from the couch. He grabbed the nearest sweatshirt he could find, slipped a glove over his left hand, and went out the door. The great thing about living in a small apartment in Brooklyn was the fact that he was literally right over a Starbucks. And even though he didn't go out much (okay AT ALL), Starbucks was pretty much the next best thing to sliced bread. It had a nice quiet atmosphere, the music was relaxing, and the constant smell of coffee could probably quell any anxiety attack he had. He also knew the manager, Phil, who basically gave him free coffee and bagels as long as he did some small jobs like lifting crates or filing some cabinets. Plus he got paid for it, and he didn't even have to interact with the customers. Talk about killing two birds with one stone.

Bucky opened the door leading into the coffee shop, narrowly avoiding the baristas and grabbing his favorite window seat. It was angled just so he could see the door and keep watch of any suspicious characters. Hey, you never know! A terrorist could be buying a grande frappucino and no one would ever notice.

"Your usual, Mr. Barnes." A cup of steaming hot black coffee was set before him.

"Thanks, Phil." Bucky looked up at him appreciatively, who only nodded respectfully and went back behind the counter. Phil was another person outside Bucky's limited group of friends whom he didn't mind. He always kept to himself, and he only bothered Bucky when it came to coffee and doing odd jobs around the café.

Bucky picked up the cup and couldn't help moaning at the smell. If there was one thing he couldn't live without, it was definitely coffee. He took a sip and moaned again.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd you say were married to that coffee," Sam said, plopping down in the seat across from him.

"If I could, I think I would marry it. It doesn't talk, doesn't bother you, and the only thing it does is burn your tongue."

Sam snorted, taking a bite of his blueberry muffin.

"Not to mention it tastes of utter perfection."

"Yeah, you're perfect for each other."

Bucky raised his cup and took another sip.

"So, how've you been?" Sam asked absentmindedly.

Bucky rolled his eyes from above his cup. "You know how I've been," his voice echoing into the cup.

"Yes, I know you've been watching endless amounts of TV and drinking over-priced coffee. But I'm still gonna ask anyways."

Sam and Bucky had been in the 107th Division together, and they were also two of the few survivors from their last mission in Afghanistan. While Sam had been able to get the help he needed, Bucky had been shirking it off, slipping farther and farther into his own depressive coma. He knew he needed help, but he just couldn't do it. The last time he had set foot in a VA hospital, he hyperventilated and Natasha had to pick him up. He stayed on her and Clint's couch for weeks until they decided to kick him back to his own apartment. So Sam never brought up the idea again. But that didn't stop Sam from asking him the same question every single time.

"You look great by the way," Bucky said casually.

Sam looked at him incredulously, then laughed and shook his head. It's not that he was jealous of Sam or anything. It's just, well, compared to Bucky, Sam did in fact look great. His face was shaved clean, his clothes neatly pressed and ironed, and he didn't have constant anxiety attacks either. Bucky on the other hand looked like a homeless person if he didn't try hard enough, and he could barely talk to people without having a meltdown of some sort. Today was one of his better days though. His hair was drawn up into a loose ponytail, his clothes a little rumpled but neater than usual, and he even remembered to shave today! Go him.

"So anything new happen lately?" Sam tried again.

Bucky thought for a bit. Had anything happened lately? Then he remembered Subway— dammit, STEVE, and their brief encounter.

"I took the subway."

Sam raised his eyebrow but tried not to appear too over-eager. "Really?"

He made sure to leave out the 'almost-breaking-down-in-a-subway-station' part.

"Well, I tried to at least. But since when were there so many buttons and options?! God I'm never doing that again," Bucky huffed in frustration at the thought of those inferior machines. Not to mention the people! Was it always that crowded?

"Did you go anywhere at least?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Yeah, to Highland Park. I actually met a friend. Sort of." Wait, could he even call Steve a friend?

"Yeah? This friend of yours got a name?"

"Um, yeah, Steve. Steve Rogers."

Sam looked skeptical.

"Hey, I swear I'm not making him up! He helped me pay for my ticket. He even gave me his number…" His voice trailed off.

Sam stared at him until he understood the reason for Bucky's sudden silence. "You haven't talked to him since, have you?"

Bucky shrugged and scratched his head. "I mean, yes, well no? If you count calling and hanging up as talking?"

Sam groaned and banged his head on the table.


And that's how Bucky found himself sitting in some hole-in-the-wall diner just five blocks from his apartment. He had gotten there early and made sure to choose the farthest booth possible. He looked around nervously, glancing at the clock and fidgeting in his seat. It had taken some convincing from Sam, but Bucky finally managed to call Steve without hanging up on the first ring.

In his defense, Bucky had been wanting to meet Steve again since their little subway encounter.

1:00 am

To: Steve

From: Bucky

heyy. bored. just thinking of u. wanna f*ck u so—

But he had erased the message and slammed his phone shut before blushing in embarrassment.

So he decided to call him.

But after the first ring he threw his phone across the room and watched it bounce off the wall. Good thing it wasn't some fancy shit smart phone. It would have shattered upon impact.

Hello? A voice called out in the empty room.

Bucky had dived across the floor and shut his phone off at that point. He has the rug burns to prove it.

One could say social interaction wasn't his strongest point. It wasn't always like this though. Before he had joined the army like the impulsive kid he was, he was a real ladies' man. He may have also had it in for the men as well. He could win anyone over with that smirk on his face, his body brimming with confidence. People always asked him how he did it, but he just played along, pretending he had some strategy when in reality that was just the kind of guy he was. If anyone met him now, they would have laughed right at him. No longer was he the cocky, flirtatious guy that people remembered him as. Now, he was an anxiety-ridden, socially awkward war veteran who looked like a hobo with one arm. There were definitely women (and men) lining up at his door for a piece of this action.

He glanced at clock again. He knew he had gotten here early, but it was almost 6:30. Where was Steve?

Bucky ran over the conversation again in his head, making sure he had gotten the details and the place right.

Hello?

"Uh, hi, is this.. Steve?" Bucky asked timidly.

Yes, this is him! May I ask who's speaking?

Bucky swallowed nervously. "T-this is Bucky? You probably don't remember me, but you helped me at the subway station? I couldn't work the damn machine and you practically saved my ass?"

Oh yeah! I remember you now! James 'I think' Bucky Barnes right?

Bucky flushed red at the memory. Of all the things, that was what had caught Steve's attention?

After a moment of mortifying silence he heard Steve laugh through the receiver. Sorry sorry! Couldn't help myself. My one friend did always say I liked to tease people.

Bucky smiled, feeling himself relax at Steve's easy and calm demeanor.

So what's up? I didn't think you'd be calling out of the blue like this all of a sudden.

Bucky felt the anxiety creeping back in, but he swallowed it back. He was a sergeant! If he could march through enemy territory and get blown up by an IED in the process then he could certainly hold one simple conversation over the phone.

"I, uh, well I was HOPING if you'd uh, m-maybe like to meet up or… something?" He offered weakly.

Silence.

Oh! Sorry ha-ha, just got a little distracted. Uh, yeah sure that would be great actually! Where do you live? Maybe I could come over? Or you could come over here, whatever you're comfortable with! Although my place is kind of a mess right now, so maybe your place? Wait no hold on.

Steve was rambling. Bucky couldn't help but picture a floundering Steve, probably trying to straighten up his place as fast as he could. How cute.

"Hey, my place isn't really in tip-top shape either. Maybe we could go out or something?" Wait, where had that come from? Bucky rarely left his apartment, and if he did it was either to get coffee at the Starbucks down below or to go to Nat and Clint's place.

Go out? Yeah, yeah that sounds like a great idea! There's actually a diner nearby me, on Broadway near S 6th and Berry Street?

And from there they had set up a time and decided to meet this Friday. The diner was pretty close by, and it wasn't very hard to miss. It was an obnoxious bright red, and it kind of looked run down. On the inside, it was actually pretty nice. It almost reminded Bucky of Starbucks if it wasn't for the loud clambering of people and oh god were those children? Bucky swallowed nervously and tried to tamper down his nerves. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and settled for fiddling with his jacket's zipper.

Where was Steve?

He heard the bell ring and the door open, and Steve's face swam into view. He looked around trying to find Bucky, who sighed in relief at the sight of him.

Bucky stood up half-way, waving Steve over. Once their eyes met, Steve broke out into a smile (which Bucky thought was just endearing) and made his way over.

"Bucky! Hi! Sorry am I late? I was, well, I was trying to find my jacket. It's kind of cold out isn't it?" Steve rattled away, a slight flush on his face. He was wearing a white t-shirt that was extremely tight on him, perfectly outlining his abs and other muscles, along with jeans and a black leather jacket that hugged his frame perfectly. He looked so casual, but Bucky couldn't help it. It turned him on. Steve was pretty hot.

Like, really, really sexy hot. Like the kind of hot that Bucky wanted to pin against the wall, rock his hips against and then fuck the brains out of.

"N-no, it's fine. I was early. Uh, sit down! You're probably starving," Bucky said in a high-pitched voice.

"I see someone finally went through puberty," was what Natasha would probably say if she was here right now.

Bucky sat down awkwardly with Steve following suit.

"It's really great to see you again," Steve said earnestly as he picked up the menu.

Bucky gazed up in surprise. "Oh, uh, it's… good to you see too." Dammit Barnes, could you be more awkward?

"How have you been? Taken any subways recently?" Bucky looked confused at the question, but then realized Steve was teasing him.

"Har har, very funny. And no, actually. I think I'm never going to take a subway again."

Steve laughed at that. Bucky would pay him a million dollars (if he had that kind of money) to hear Steve laugh like that all day.

"Oh come on! They're not that bad."

"Please, I could barely work the stupid machine. And the people behind me were getting impatient." Bucky paused for a second before adding conspiratorially, "Have I mentioned that I really hate people too? Along with subways?"

Steve laughed again, this time louder. A couple people turned their way, causing Steve to blush at his outburst. Bucky tried to hold back his own laugh by biting his lip. God Steve was adorable.

"Well you seem to be doing just fine with me," Steve observed after the people had returned to their own conversations.

Bucky shrugged, trying to appear cool and calm. "Eh, some people are tolerable."

"Oh, so I'm tolerable now? Glad to know I've been upgraded to 'tolerable.'" Steve gave a cheeky grin, which did something to Bucky's heart and made his toes tingle.

Man did he have it bad.

The rest of the night proceeded well. In fact, Bucky was pretty surprised that he didn't break down right then and there. Sure there were a lot of people, but every time he got nervous and felt the anxiety coming back he would just stare at Steve and it would all go away. It was so strange. Of course Steve would catch him staring. Bucky would then have to bury his head in his food so it wouldn't be obvious how horribly red his face was.

Bucky leaned back in his seat and moaned. That was probably the best meal he'd had since coming back from Afghanistan. And all this time he'd been living on cereal and take-out. How did he not know about this place before?

"So what'd you think?" Steve asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Steve, that was amazing. Oh my gosh no you don't understand. I could probably eat a hundred of those burgers."

Steve laughed, his ears growing a little pink. Probably from the beer.

"I mean not a hundred, but you know what I mean. And that CHEESECAKE. God that was heavenly. Steve, you need to take me back here. Seriously. This is my new favorite place," Bucky said with a mock-grave expression.

Steve looked up to meet his eyes, but he didn't say anything.

Bucky furrowed his brow. "Something on my face?"

Steve shook his head. "No, it's just," he smiled. "You wanna come back here? With me? I take it you don't mind spending time with me?"

"Well… I mean, yeah, sure. Why not?" Bucky scratched his head as he tried to comprehend the question. No, he didn't mind spending time with Steve. In fact, he was actually willing to put aside his fear of people just to go out with him again. Steve was great. He was funny, sweet, dorky, and did he mention just great overall?

Steve smiled again, this time brighter and more genuine. "Good, cause I was gonna ask you out again anyways."

"Oh," was all Bucky could manage. He was slightly taken aback by Steve's… Steveness. If there was one thing Bucky'd learned tonight, it was that Steve was just pure honest by nature. There wasn't a single conniving bone in that gorgeous, buff body of his and he always meant every word he said. Bucky had never met someone like this before, and it was really doing strange things to his heart. Maybe he needed to make a doctor's appointment soon.

"I-I hope that's okay cause, you know, I—" Steve cleared his throat. "I really did enjoy myself too. And I'd like to do it again, if you don't mind."

Bucky blinked a few times before coming back to the question. "Er, yeah, uh, no! That would be, uh, awesome. No w-we should do this again." Maybe he also needed to see a speech therapist too.

They smiled at each as the waitress came around with their check. Bucky went to grab for it but Steve's reflexes were just slightly faster.

Bucky raised his eyebrow. "Woah there buddy, someone's a little eager."

"My treat, don't worry," he waved off.

"No man, seriously here lemme—" Bucky reached behind to grab his wallet but Steve's arm shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"Honestly, don't worry about it. I was the one who suggested this diner in the first place. Besides, what kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn't pay for the check?"

Bucky's mouth quirked up into a half-smile. Oh yeah, did he mention Steve was a complete and totally chivalrous guy too? How did he even exist right now?

His eyes looked down at Steve's hand, which was still on his wrist. His left wrist to be exact. And by left wrist he meant his prosthetic.

"Um."

Once Steve noticed he quickly retracted his hand and laughed nervously.

"Are you sure you don't want me to pay?" Bucky continued, brushing off what just happened. "I mean I know I look like a homeless person sometimes but I'm not exactly poor or anything." Not that he looked like a homeless person now of course. Bucky had at least cleaned himself up for this, and he had to admit, he looked kind of good. Even Sam had whistled and said if he was gay, he would totally go for Bucky's ass.

Steve shook his head. "Really, Buck, it's my treat." He still looked unconvinced. "Alright I'll make you a deal. Next time, you choose the place and time and it'll be your treat." Steve gave a toothy grin which of course Bucky had no choice but to give into.

After a moment he threw up his hands in defeat. "Aargh! Fine, you win! Happy?" He made sure to pout.

"Yes, very happy, in fact." If Steve smiled any bigger, well, Bucky wasn't complaining.


"So no sex?"

"For the last time we did not have—"

"Really? You're not lying are you? Cause I would have noticed that after-glow on your skin—"

"NO NAT WE DID NOT HAVE SEX."

Natasha rolled her eyes. They were in her and Clint's apartment, lazing on the couch and blazing through 3 seasons of Grey's Anatomy on Netflix. Clint was at the shooting range with some friend named Bruce?

Natasha's legs were settled on Bucky's lap, with his feet resting on the coffee table. Normally she would admonish him for that if it wasn't for the supposed hot sex he shared with Steve two nights before. Honestly. All they had done was enjoy a nice dinner, bantering back and forth and sharing life stories.

Bucky found out Steve was a free-lance artist and painted buildings for a living. He owned a golden retriever named Thor and a black cat named Loki (interesting names, but hey who was he to judge?). He also lived not too far from Bucky, and if he wanted, Bucky could visit any time.

Bucky hadn't revealed too much about himself, except that he used to be in the army, could power-watch any TV show, and he really liked coffee and was probably a Starbucks addict. But other than that he wasn't very interesting.

"No, I'm sure that's not true!" Steve had insisted. "I'm sure you're more special than you think you are Buck."

Bucky's eyes had practically lit up at the compliment. Even now he could feel a goofy smile on his face. After that Steve walked him home, which Bucky pointed out as very gentleman-like and Steve blushed like crazy. They had stared at each other for a good ten minutes, neither one wanting to leave just yet. And then just as Steve started to walk away (albeit very reluctantly), Bucky had called out to him.

"Hey!" Steve turned back towards Bucky, who closed the distance between them.

"Thanks, for, you know, tonight and everything." He shuffled his feet, his eyes pointed to the ground.

"And I mean it, you know. I do want to do this again. With you. Of course." He made sure to look up so it didn't seem like was saying that to the sidewalk.

And when he did, Steve's smile was more than enough affirmation.

"Hellooo? Earth to James? You look really creepy right now, just saying." Natasha waved her hand in front of his face.

Bucky slapped it away and started to poke her instead.

"Oh it is SO on."

It turned into an all-out poke war which lasted for approximately five minutes before both of them were panting and trying to catch their breath.

Natasha laid on top of Bucky, her arm whacking him in the face. This earned her a scowl.

"You know you love me."

Bucky rolled his eyes and ruffled her hair. Of course he loved her. She was his best friend, and if it wasn't for her he would probably be even more depressed than he already was. Natasha had pulled him back up, pushing him until he finally decided to start living a little. Even if it did mean spending his every waking hour watching TV and drinking coffee with Sam. Still. It was better than before, if not by a little.

"James?"

"Mhm?" He hummed lazily in response, playing with a curly strand of her hair.

"I just want you to be happy, okay?"

Bucky kissed her temple. "I am happy."

Natasha gave him one of her I-know-you're-lying-so-stop-lying-I-can-see-right-through-you looks.

"Okay, maybe not 100% happy, but I'm happy!"

"James," Nat simply said.

"Alright 85%"

"…"

"Okay fine! God, 50%"

Natasha patted him on the head triumphantly. "Great! Now that you've admitted your faltering happiness, go call your subway boyfriend and set up another date with him."

Needless to stay another poke war ensued.


His phone was ringing. He could just make out the vibrating noise somewhere in his bed. He groaned and rolled over reluctantly, feeling blindly at the sheets until he found it.

"lo?"

"BARNES," the voice bellowed in his ear.

Bucky winced and had to pull his phone back a bit. "S this?"

"Who do you think twinkle toes?" From the tone of his voice and the level of sassiness Bucky could only guess who it was. That and the fact he didn't know many sassy people. Okay Natasha was pretty sassy but she wasn't a guy either.

"Whaddya want Tony?" His Brooklyn accent drawled. Even though he had been gone for three years, his accent still came out sometimes. Like when he woke up in the morning for example.

"Just wanted to make sure you were still alive and breathing. And your annual fitting and check-up." Oh, he meant for the prosthetic. Tony was also his mechanic and the one who supplied him with the arm.

"Right, I'll write it down sss—" He yawned mid-sentence. Sometimes he wondered if Tony was actually mindful of other people. Like, say, if they were still asleep at 9 a.m.

"Tony?" Pepper Potts called from the background.

"In here babe."

"I need you to look over these papers and sign them." Bucky heard a rustling noise.

"Babe, you know I don't like being handed things. Pet peeve remember?"

Bucky could almost feel Pepper rolling her eyes through the phone. They bickered like that for a while until he heard Pepper call his name.

"Tony! Please don't tell me you're bothering James so early in the morning again!" Thank you, someone who finally gets it!

Bucky yawned, proving Pepper's point.

"Honey please, he loves this. Total masochist. Right buddy?"

"Just so you know I'm giving you the finger right now." He heard Pepper huff in response and the sound of her heels clicking away. Pepper was Tony's personal assistant, CEO of Stark Industries and girlfriend of 5 years. How she managed to put up with Tony he will never know.

"So!" Tony clapped his hands, making Bucky jump a little. "I just heard from our favorite CIA assassin." Natasha was NOT an assassin contrary to popular belief. "I heard you had some real hot magical sex with—"

Bucky promptly flipped his phone shut and threw it somewhere back in the bed. He made a mental note to speak to Natasha about a little something called privacy.


"Really? No sex?"

"Oh my god, why does everyone keep asking me that?!" If it wasn't Sam, Bucky would probably dump his coffee on the guy by now.

Sam raised his eyebrow.

"Tony," was all Bucky said.

Sam gave him an understanding look.

"Hey, I'm just asking here."

"Uh-huh, sure."

They sat in suspicious silence for a while.

"Did you at least have a hot make-out session?" Sam asked quietly.

Just for that, Bucky made sure steal every last bit of his freakin banana nut muffin.


Three days went by before Steve finally called him up again. He thought maybe Steve wanted to go somewhere different this time, like Times Square or Coney Island. God Bucky would not have been able to survive that. Even if it was Steve, there was only so much Bucky could handle. But what Steve suggested instead was a little different from what Bucky had in mind.

"This is… a botanical garden?" Bucky looked around at the plants surrounding them. It was all very… green.

"Very good detective. Now what else can you tell me?" Steve waggled his eyebrows.

Bucky wacked him on the arm and shoved at him playfully. If Steve wasn't so strong he probably would have fallen into that shrub just now.

"I know it's a botanical garden."

As an afterthought he added, "Punk."

"Jerk," Steve countered back. They smiled and broke out laughing like a couple of teenagers.

It was a typical Thursday morning, which meant Phil usually called up Bucky to help around Starbucks. After that, Bucky would trudge back up to his apartment, curl up in his cocoon of blankets and watch CSI: Miami for the rest of the afternoon. But before he could make it through the first ten episodes, he was graced with a call from the beautiful Steve Rogers himself.

Normally Bucky would have said no. If anyone hadn't noticed, he didn't exactly like going out. People weren't his thing. But seeing how it was Steve well, how could he resist? So he had put on his best clothes, gotten rid of his 5 o'clock shadow and tied up his hair into a bun.

And now they were walking through a garden somewhere on the east side of Brooklyn enjoying the nice weather. To be honest, this wasn't as scary as Bucky thought it would be. There were barely any people. Bucky thought that was maybe why Steve decided to come here, but he erased the thought. Steve didn't know him that well after all.

"So, we're in a garden—"

"Botanical garden," Steve interrupted.

This earned him another playful shove. "Lemme finish punk. So we're in a garden, the weather's great, and… what? That's it? No other evil intentions? No plans to steal my wallet or something?"

Steve gave him a questioningly look.

"Sorry. Right. Three years in the army remember?" Bucky waved his left hand for effect. "It's kinda part of the training, you know? Be wary of your enemies, always keep a look-out, etc. Boring stuff, which you probably don't wanna hear about."

"I know."

"I mean really its super boring you'd probably want to—"

"Bucky." That stopped Bucky's rambling.

"Steve."

At this point they had both stopped walking and were now staring at each other. Steve probably had a couple inches on him. If Bucky reached up, just a little bit, then they would probably be—

He shook his head. Bad sergeant! No pervy thoughts in the botanical garden.

Steve tilted his head and gave him a crooked smile. He should have put 'great smile' in his job resume. God how Bucky wanted to kiss that smile off his face.

"I know. About the army stuff, I mean. I did three tours you know?"

"You… wait, what? The army? You…" There was no way Bucky sounded like a coherent human being right now. Steve Rogers? Army? The Steve Rogers? The one who wore hot leather jackets, rode a motorcycle (boy was Bucky surprised at that one), saved kittens from trees and helped old ladies cross the street? That Steve Rogers?

Steve squared his shoulders and gave a salute. "Captain Steven Grant Rogers at your service. Three tours in Iraq."

Bucky looked at him in disbelief until he gave his own salute.

"Sergeant James 'I think' Bucky Barnes." Steve laughed at that.

"Two tours in Afghanistan."

"Two tours? But I thought you spent three years in the army?"

"Technically I was on my third tour at that point, but I only got halfway through it before I left. So really two and a half tours." Bucky grabbed his left arm out of habit.

Steve noticed the motion and eyed his arm carefully. "Was it because of your arm?" He asked quietly.

Bucky clenched his first and gave a bitter laugh. "Wow, you just get straight to the point don't ya?" It was meant to be a joke, but it came out harsher than he expected.

Steve's eyes widened when he realized his mistake and started flailing his arms. "No! I-I mean, your arm, because you suddenly clutched it, and… Oh god, I'm a terrible person. I shouldn't have brought it up I'm so sorry oh god I'm sorry."

Steve was rambling again, another endearing quality about him. Also his ability to blush so hard that he practically turned into a tomato.

"Steve, buddy. Relax. Take a breath. I'm not mad or anything. It's just different. People usually avoid the subject altogether or just give me sad puppy dog eyes. Not many people come right out and say it. So, I guess thanks for that. I appreciate it." This was pretty much the reason why Bucky just avoided people altogether. They never knew how to act around him, and kids were even worse. Obviously they meant well and couldn't really help their blunt nature, but the staring made him uncomfortable. He didn't know how to deal with people, so he secluded himself from society and built walls around him. The only people he could truly deal with were Sam, Natasha and Clint, and sometimes Tony. Tony could be just as frank as a child, but at least he didn't act weird about it. His ability to poke and tease at Bucky's arm was why he didn't mind him so much. If it wasn't for him, Bucky would be leading a one-arm life.

"So, can I ask what happened then?" Steve asked hesitantly. His blush had gone down, but he was still a bit red in the face.

Bucky shrugged. "Sure. My team and I were out on patrol, it was nighttime. It was supposed to be a normal patrol, nothing different. But it was dark, and one of my men stepped on an IED. It was a pretty nasty one. I lost half my team that day." He rubbed his left arm and took a breath. "Me, my buddy Sam and three others were the only ones who made it back. The rest came home with just a few random body parts. We couldn't even give them a proper burial." Bucky could remember it clear as day. It was raining, and there were crying families all around him. Sam was patched up beside him, tears streaming down his own face. Bucky couldn't even think properly. All he could think about was the stump where his left arm should have been.

He shuddered, when he felt a warm pair of arms embrace him. Bucky stilled.

"I'm so, so sorry Buck," Steve whispered, rubbing his hand up and down Bucky's back. "I know how it feels, to lose your teammates. God when I came back from my second tour I was a mess. Don't even know why I went back for my third one." Bucky leaned into the embrace, carefully resting his head on his shoulder.

"If you need someone to talk to, I'm right here."

They stayed like that for a while, just two men hugging it out in a botanical garden. Completely normal.

Bucky popped his head up, a sudden realization dawning on him. "Wait, is that why you helped me the other day on the subway?"

Steve pulled back and blushed. "Guess my secret's up huh?"

Bucky laughed and leaned his head back down again. Steve continued the soothing motions across his back.

"Steve?" Bucky asked after a moment.

"Yeah Buck?"

"I think I like you."

The soothing motions stopped.

Crap. Bucky hadn't meant to blurt that out. It was just they were in a freakin botanical garden and they had both shared their war stories and now Steve was hugging him and just being a really nice guy. He really couldn't help it.

He felt Steve shaking against him and he looked up to find him suppressing his laughter.

"W-what?"

"Y-you think… you… l-like… m-me?" Steve laughed out.

Bucky's face went up in flames. He was never gonna let that one go was he?

"Guess my secret's out too then," he mumbled.

Steve finally calmed down and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Well, I think I like you too James Buchanan Barnes."

Bucky ducked his head and couldn't help but pout. "No, Steve. You don't get it. I think I might like you. Like, like like you."

"Good. Cause I think I like like you too."

Steve tucked his finger under Bucky's chin and brought his face up to meet his. He had a serious look on his face. Bucky bit his lip. They were so close, just like that day in the station. But Steve pulled back, an apologetic look on his face. Bucky practically deflated like a balloon.

"Trust me, I do like you. Really. Ever since that day I couldn't stop thinking about you." Bucky blushed at the sudden confession.

"But I don't want to force you into anything you're not comfortable with yet. So I'll give you some time to sort out your own feelings. Obviously you didn't mean to blurt that out just now, and I don't want to go into this before you realize you made a mistake or something."

Bucky grunted, but he knew there was some truth to Steve's words. Steve was the first person he actually really liked in a long time. He didn't want to mess this up.

He felt Steve's lips brush lightly against his forehead. "I'll wait, don't worry. Take as much time as you need."

Bucky looked at him gratefully.

He was going to do this right, to hell with his PTSD.


"Hey! It's Subway Guy right?"

Steve blushed and looked past Clint at Bucky. Subway Guy? He mouthed.

Bucky shrugged. Natasha came up from behind and whacked Clint with a rolled up newspaper.

"Steve! Hi, I'm Natasha, James' best friend. Pleasure to finally meet. I've heard a lot about you." She shook hands with Steve and brought him into the apartment.

After Bucky explained the situation to her, Natasha was more than happy to help. It was her idea to invite Steve over for dinner. Bucky would have invited Steve over himself, but given the state of his apartment Nat and Clint's place seemed like the better choice.

"Hey," Bucky said shyly, knocking his shoulder against Steve's. Natasha rolled her eyes while Clint made some kind of gagging noise. Bucky shot them death glares while they sauntered off snickering.

"Hey yourself," Steve smiled. Bucky blushed and quickly reached up to kiss him on the cheek before thinking twice about it.

The flush on Steve's face quickly consumed him. "Don't boost my ego. It'll only make me feel special," he said sheepishly.

Bucky laughed and dropped his head on Steve's chest. "Good because you are." Steve chuckled and placed his arms lightly on Bucky's waist.

"Hey boys," Natasha called out from one room over. Steve quickly released him, his face becoming even redder. Bucky would have laughed if he didn't feel so bad.

"Try to keep it in the bedroom would you?" This time it was Bucky's turn to blush.

"NATASHA ROMANOFF I SWEAR TO GOD."

All he could hear was her evil laughter.


Dinner with Steve had gone better than expected, save for a few sexual innuendos (courtesy of Nat and Clint). They really seemed to like him, and Steve liked them too.

After that day in the gardens, excuse him, BOTANICAL gardens, they had been hanging out a lot more lately. Sometimes they would go back to that diner, walk through a nice quiet park, or just curl up on Steve's couch watching Jurassic Park or some other lame Steve movie. This was the most Bucky had ever done in one week, and honestly, he looked forward to spending time with Steve. It was always something new and never over-whelming. The great thing about Steve was that he understood Bucky's hesitance, being a war vet himself and all.

Bucky and Steve had also started flirting with each other, and more openly too. It was obvious there was this thing between them, but Bucky never asked and Steve never pressured him. He was still trying to figure out this whole emotions thing.

It started off with casual touches, like shoulders touching or hands brushing against each other. It then evolved into hugging each other longer than necessary or Bucky burrowing his head into Steve's neck on the couch. Steve would even tousle his hair affectionately until Bucky blushed and pushed his hand away, muttering something along the lines of, "I'm not a kid anymore."

They would exchange quips back and forth, their favorite one being "Jerk," Steve would say. "Punk," Bucky would reply right back.

It was going well. Really well in fact. And each day they spent together, Bucky grew more and more confident of his feelings towards Steve.


The first time Bucky brought Steve to his apartment, Steve didn't laugh or mock him for the messiness. He just understood. They spent four hours cleaning up the place.

The first time Steve kissed Bucky, they were watching 50 Days of Summer on Steve's couch. It couldn't get more cliché than that. Steve kept apologizing for moving too fast and rushing into things and oh god I'm so sorry—

Bucky just shut him up with another kiss.

The first time Bucky had a meltdown in front of Steve, he just held him in his arms and rocked him back and forth. Steve even made a blanket fort and they huddled up in there for the whole day, drinking hot cocoa and snuggling.

The first time Steve saw Bucky take off his arm, Bucky wouldn't stop shaking. Steve just kissed his left collarbone and simply said, "You're beautiful."

It was a time of firsts for Bucky, but he didn't really mind. He was happy. God he was so damn happy. He even decided to try the subway again, but this time with Steve in tow to make sure he didn't screw up like the last time. Bucky still had panic attacks from time to time, but Steve was always there to comfort and soothe him back to normalcy. Bucky of course was so grateful for that, but he still had his doubts. He still wasn't very confident about their relationship, despite Steve's constant reassurances time and time again.


One day he asked Steve, "Aren't you tired of this?"

Steve just looked at him with a crease between his brows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this." Bucky gestured to himself. "I mean all of this, Steve."

Steve grabbed both of Bucky's arms and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Bucky, I could never get tired of you. You know that."

Bucky just curled into Steve and clutched at his shirt, pretending there weren't tears streaming down his face.


"I have anxiety attacks. I still can't deal with people very well. I still have trouble taking the freakin subway. I can't go out to a bar without feeling anxious about the people all around me. I can't enjoy going out with my own friends. I don't even have that many friends! I work part time sort of at a Starbucks, and I'm crazy about you. What do you expect to get out of this?"

Steve just blinked in confusion at the sudden outburst.

Bucky was taking a shower, and he had been in there for quite a long time. Steve needed something to occupy himself with so he settled for sketching the inside of Bucky's apartment. It looked pretty good actually, and he was almost done with the shading when Bucky suddenly burst out of the bathroom with that declaration.

He knew what Bucky was trying to do. He was trying to scare Steve out of the relationship.

They had been going steady for six months now. It was a slow process, but it was so worth the wait.

Bucky was happy, don't get him wrong. But he knew happiness couldn't last forever. And on those days, he usually called up Nat in a panic because he didn't know what to do. Today was one of those days, but unfortunately Nat wasn't here to help him.

Steve looked thoughtful for a moment before standing from his perch at the counter and gathering up Bucky in his arms. He kissed the crown of his head and felt Bucky relax against him, but he was still a little stiff.

"You've forgotten that I used to have PTSD too Bucky. Still do in fact. Maybe not as bad as before, but it comes and goes in waves. You can't ever really escape from that. Soldier's curse I guess." Steve shrugged.

"I was a recluse too for a while you know? I didn't speak to anyone, and I completely shut people out of my life. It wasn't until Peggy (his best friend since high school) kicked my butt out of bed one morning and said, 'Steve. You need to do something about your life. Either get your ass out of bed or get your ass handed to you. You don't have an option here.' So I finally went to the VA hospital, sat in on a couple meetings, and I can't tell you how worth it it was. I've met so many great people, people who share the same situation as me. People who get it. It's going to take some time, but you'll get there, I promise. You just need to keep trying. But I'm not going anywhere, no matter bad you try to scare me." Steve looked pretty triumphant after finishing his speech. Smug little punk.

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was no way he could counter that.

"I love you," he blurted out finally.

Steve's smile faltered and his eyes went wide. The shock on his face would be pretty comical if not given the situation.

"You—"

"I love you," Bucky repeated again, this time more confidently.

Steve gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"I mean it, too," Bucky added, in case he didn't get the message. He's not sure where this sudden confidence is coming from, but he finds himself meaning every word of it. He does love Steve. He loves Steve's patience, his dorkiness, his lame movies, the way he wakes up from long naps, the way he touches Bucky's face like he's the most precious thing in the world. He loves everything about Steve.

He loves Steve.

He thinks maybe he needs to call Nat later just to re-confirm, but for now he's pretty sure.

He absolutely loves Steve.

After getting over his initial shock, Steve finally comes back to himself with the biggest smile imaginable.

"You love me, huh?" His eyebrow quirks up.

"Yes, I do." He's not backing down from this. Even if Steve doesn't love him back, Bucky will probably just tie up him and stick him in the Starbucks cellar or something.

"You sure you don't think you love me?"

Bucky groans. Really? This whole thing again?

"Okay, listen—"

"I'm listening."

Bucky punches him in the arm. "Don't interrupt ya little punk. As I was saying, I was really embarrassed and flustered at the time. I could barely talk to anyone, let alone the hot blonde subway guy who I just met and come on—"

Steve's lips were suddenly plastered against his own. Steve's tongue licked his bottom lip, causing a muffled whimper from the back of Bucky's throat. He opened his mouth to allow entry for Steve's tongue. It swirled around a bit, exploring the inside of his mouth and licking his teeth. Bucky moaned, his sweatpants growing a bit tighter. Steve pressed his leg in between Bucky's thighs and pushed against his growing bulge.

"Mmph, S-Steve," Bucky moaned against his lips. They broke apart panting, a string of saliva between their mouths.

Steve wiped his lips, then used his sleeve to wipe up Bucky's.

"Ha-ha, indirect kiss," Bucky joked.

Steve just looked at him before pecking him on the lips, his chin, and his nose.

"Hey," he said, pressing his nose against Bucky's cheek.

Bucky turned to face him.

"I love you too, jerk."

Bucky blushed and scowled. So much for that growing confidence.

"Shaddup you punk." And there goes the accent again. But the affection was all there.

He could feel the tips of his ears burning now.

"Mhmm Buuucckky," Steve whined, nudging the side of his head.

"Whaddya want ya little—"

But Bucky never got to finish that sentence.


Author's note: For those who want to see the picture of the diner

maps/place/Diner/ 40.710658,-73.965577,2a,90y,90t/data=!3m5!1e2!3m3!1s-CLJ0K6Dp0dI%2FUgkOCHRdInI%2FAAAAAAAATKY%2FkY_d64ECK-I!2e4!3e12!4m9!1m6!2m5!1sdiners!3m3!1sdiners!2sBrooklyn,+NY!3s0x89c24416947c2109:0x82765c7404007886!3m1!1s0x89c25bd92a2636bf:0x339ce4674aba271f!6m1!1e1