Pam: hey so im having frisbee lessons so i dont think im gonna make it tonight :(

.Rly? this late?

Pam: yeah, im a little behind schedule so im doing some extra

Bucky wasn't sure how someone could be getting frisbee lessons a Friday at 8PM, but he didn't really care, tonight was his night. He checked his other messages.

Sarah: I think my dad exploded? Brb

.R u all right?

She blocked him. What the hell.

Another message, this time from Ashley, saying she caught a cold. This night was just getting better and better. Note the sarcasm.

He expected starting the year well, hit it hard, fast and nice. Planning an orgy didn't seem that hard, right? He was pretty sure he was doing the right thing. He also invited every girl one by one, not telling her it was an orgy (he knew that every girl wanted to feel special of course). What was he doing wrong?

Okay, maybe he was putting a little bit too much effort for tonight. A lot of expectation. He's been having a few hard days lately. Or weeks. Or months. All right, he wasn't in the best place mentally at the moment, so all he wanted was a nice hook up with some ladies and call it a day.

But he wasn't really that excited. Like, he was excited, he liked looking good, having a nice dinner with people and maybe a little some more. But lately he's been having a small problem with how to say it… ladies.

He sure liked them, he liked them very much indeed, since his first girlfriend in grade school. His dad was so proud, saying he's already a man, a womanizer. He liked the attention for it, so he continued that path, even if it meant breaking a few hearts to win others. That was his life.

Till a few months ago.

He was 28, in the peak of his life, when he should be the happiest, according to all the TV shows he watched. But something wasn't right.

All of this bad luck he's been having started when he went on his new gym. His last one closed to be a retirement home (couldn't blame them, there were more elderly there doing yoga and acquagym than any other thing) so he had to get used to see new faces. And by new it also meant faces below 60. And, boy , wasn't that a change. He actually forgot how hot people can be. And by people he meant a guy he also saw later that night in his dreams, and not the regular ones. That guy was everything Bucky wanted (to look like, of course): handsome, tall, a total hunk. Somehow he looked like he just got out of a magazine photoshoot, and not the PG-13 ones, it was a total chaos for him. He woke up later that night, sweating, not knowing what has just happened and why did he remembered his classmate from school, whom he was a little too close every time, and how they seemed to be right there when the silence was present. Whatever that meant he wasn't sure.

Kate: in the commissary getting Jennys bail hon

.? Jenny ?

Kate: Robbed a guy named Mark talk to u later xoxo

The thing is, he wasn't homophobic, but he was almost sure he was straight. He's been straight his whole life so why the hell would that change now. Sure, he had his curious phase during college as any other guy out there, where he could maybe get a blow off or something from another guy, but he was totally wasted, and a mouth was a mouth after all, right? That guy really knew how to blow but, c'mon, everyone can be good at something if they do it enough, right? Even though he tried not to get the image of it again after the party, which he left after immediately, saying he had class early next morning to never see that guy again. But he also did that with girls too. But Bucky couldn't remember any of those night as that one.

So tonight was the night. He was getting his mojo back and forget about all the gym and college stuff. No, sir. Or no sirs. Just ladies.

Brenda: I'm working the night shift tonight. Maybe next week?

Bucky didn't want to answer. He checked his apartment— he cleaned everything, had some wine on the table, unlit candles (so he could light them on when the girls came over, to set a mood) and some snacks (well, he couldn't really afford a dinner for many people, maybe he just had a proper dinner for two or three) and he also dimmed the lights a little. It was perfect. So where was everyone? He checked the message he sent.

Hey, doing anything tonight at 8? I miss our conversations, and text is not enough. Want to come over for dinner and maybe a little more? Just think about it, just you and me, no pressures. If you're in for a good time I'm at —"

It was perfect to him. Casual, not that creepy, the "no pressure" part always got him. He thought maybe add a "beautiful" after the "hey" but maybe that was a little too much even for him. He knew what girls liked, he always had. And he was so proud of it. Is. He is so proud of it. Oof, he totally would use a drink right now.

He was going to the fridge to get the wine, unsure if open it there or wait a little bit more till his company arrives. It was almost half past eight and no one got there. Maybe the traffic was slow? He swore to God, if this was going to be an orgy for one he was going to be the most miserable creature on Earth. He could already picture jerking off by himself when the fiasco was over.

But then someone knocked on the door. He almost dropped the bottle of wine because of the excitement. Okay, calm down, Buck, it's just the door.

He took just a second to look at himself mentally: a casual stubble; his nice, soft hair that chicks digged so much; his ragged black jeans he wore almost everyday now and a nice shirt. Looking good, if he said so himself. Now let's see what she had to say.

Opening the door, he went from a nice delighted smile to a confused brow.

"It was Bucky, right?" the guy said. The guy from his goddamn gym. What was he even doing here?

"What are you doing here?" he asked. Realizing how rude he sounded, he added "Sorry, I was kind of expecting someone."

The guy stopped smiling, and Bucky thought for a moment he was maybe here to beat him up. Maybe he was here because he caught Bucky staring for too long, maybe it was a territory thing. He had his address, maybe one of the messages he sent got to his girlfriend.

"The message?" The guy said said. Oh, well, it's to beat or be beaten, he thought. He wasn't going to get him off without a fight, so he could just tell him to go outside and meet him there. But then the guy looked...sad? "Sorry I'm late, I was working at the gym till a few minutes ago but i wanted to take a shower first" he said. "Can I come in?"

He looked almost shy, like the guy didn't really know what to do. Bucky knew even less, but since he didn't seem like he wanted to fight he let the guy in. They stared at each other in silence, the lights still dim.

"Sorry, you were…?" said Bucky, breaking the silence between them without wanting to sound rude even if he knew he was.

"Steve. From the gym" Since the guy— Steve— realized Bucky was still thinking what the hell was going on, he continued "You gave me your number a few weeks back when we were talking about the job offer there? And now you sent me this message. Oh, don't tell me this message wasn't for me. Of course" He said, letting his hand hit his head slightly. "It's all right, though, I can leave if you want."

Bucky wanted to die at that spot. Without answering Steve, giving him the index finger up for "wait a sec", he ran a quick view at his last messages sent. He had Brenda, he had Ashley, Stacy, Kate, Pam, about ten other girls and, yep, between them, a Blond Steve From Gym. He was so screwed. Of course Steve was not invited, he was a guy. All he wanted to have tonight was a harem for himself, he didn't care how selfish that sounded, he was wounded.

"Sorry" Bucky kicked himself inside his head. He looked at the time, almost nine and not a single girl in the room. "You can stay."

"Oh, thank God" Bucky almost felt Steve relaxing before him. What did I do this time .

They stood there, looking at each other, again. Bucky didn't know what to do with this man, invite him a beer? He only had wine. Steve himself was not helping, looking all awkward and tall and just there , his hands shifting inside his jacket, occupying more space than he should, or that's what Bucky felt.

"Can I… get your jacket?" asked Bucky, more to himself than to Steve. That's what he would do with a lady but Steve was a guy, from the gym.

"Oh, sure" he said, slowly taking his jacket off, almost like he was trying to use all the time for himself. What a mistake Bucky has made. Of course this guy was going to be jacked as hell. He tried not to stare as he sometimes did at the gym in case he was caught and framed as a creep, but everyone could be staring at this guy looking like that .

He went to the hanger and left the jacket there, and while returning to his previous awkward position in front of Steve, he noticed Steve... checking him out? Okay, Bucky knew he had a good butt, he worked on that because he knew ladies also had the butt discourse and he felt good. Now Steve was making feel good about that. But how.

"Wine?" he asked Steve, already pouring a glass for him. Steve went and served himself a glass and stood just enough close to not be into Bucky's personal space. After another awkward silence he started thinking maybe he should bright the lights a little. Or maybe not, because that would be even more awkward. "So. You're here for the message, right?"

"Yep" said Steve, one hand in his jean pocket and another in the wine glass just below his lips.

"That means you're into guys" said Bucky, like he was tasting the words as they came off his mouth.

"It seems like it."

"And you're into me" he said, frowning. He wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"For a while now" Steve took a sip of the wine, like he wanted to just disappear behind the glass.

Oh fuck .

There he was, telling himself that tonight was the night, tonight he was going to finally be free and not confused with his own straightness. But then Steve happened. Steve, this gorgeous, big man that he so wanted to wrap his legs around him like he did in that dream he ached to forget.

He must have been frozen in place because now Steve was talking.

"I'm so sorry, Bucky. I- I know I should get going. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Just— Hope to see you around." Steve was already grabbing his jacket from the door. How the hell was Bucky so bad at this.

"No. Please, don't go." he said. "I'm sorry for all this mess and everything. It's just." he took a deep breath. "I'm not used to this." he said, kind of pointing at his apartment or himself, he wasn't sure. "Just give me a chance, please?"

Bucky would have been looking miserable, because Steve stepped aside from the door and went where Bucky was.

"We can maybe try this slower?" Bucky was going to ask him if slower meant even more awkward but he didn't. Steve took Bucky's hand with almost fear and guided him to the couch where they sat. "So tell me what's wrong. If you want, of course" He said.

"It's just" he began to say. He didn't want to tell this random guy about his feelings, but his mouth to brain response was slow tonight. "This is going to sound bad, all right? I had this orgy planned for tonight." he saw Steve raise an eyebrow and look around with his eyes "Yes, you can laugh, no one showed up, as you can see." Steve just chuckled a little. "But the thing is it was going to be all girls, because that's what I'm into, you know?" Bucky stared at Steve, he knew that he shouldn't have said it, the guy just told him he was into him, but he needed to say it to himself, to feel proud. "But now I don't know" he finished.

"You don't know what?" asked Steve in a small voice, like he wanted Bucky to keep talking, to let everything off.

"I don't know if I'm totally into girls" he said, not looking at Steve now. "Hell, I don't know if I'm into girls at all." he surprised himself saying. He never thought about it for the fear of getting into that conclusion. "I mean" he continued "I like sex, but not really because of the girls." he took a sip of his wine, still on hand. "The thing is that I don't remember them after, but I do remember every night I've been with a guy, no matter how hard I try to forget about it."

Steve pressed his hand on Bucky's arm, like he wasn't sure how much physical contact the other was comfortable getting.

"You're not alone, Buck. What you feel is not wrong." he assured him. "What you feel is completely normal, maybe you're confused or just don't know what to do —"

"I don't like girls" Bucky hurried to say. Now that he said it out loud once he wasn't afraid of saying it, like a spell that broke off.

"And what do you like?" Steve asked, his hand no longer in Bucky's arm. As soon as he left it both of them missed the contact.

"I like men" Bucky said, like he was getting the taste of it. "I'm gay. I like dudes". He swore he was almost shaking, if not full on shaking. He left his glass of wine on the coffee table and looked at Steve.

"Can I…?" asked Steve.

Bucky hurried to hug Steve, as if it was the last hug he would get in his life but also the first one. He didn't feel like crying, but his chest was so light right now. After what it felt like a year, they broke the hug, and Bucky saw the apartment like it was not his own. The lights were still dim, the unlit candles on the kitchen table, a few empty glasses of wine carefully placed behind the sink. It was like another man have been living here instead of himself.

"You alright?"

"Never better" he said, smiling at him. "I'm so sorry for all of this. I'm sure you weren't expecting someone having an internal crisis in front of you" he chuckled. "I still have dinner if you want." he said, looking at Steve with his new eyes.

"I'd love to."