All night Bucky tossed and turned. He kept feeling Steve's hands on his back.

He tried to tell himself it was stupid, it didn't mean anything. It had just been a long time since anyone had touched him like that. And maybe no one had ever really touched him like that.

He flopped onto his side. When was the last time he had even gone on a date? A few years ago, at least. Bucky had convinced Steve to do online dating with him. He had never had a problem finding girls willing to go on dates with him, but most of the time when he tried to call them for another date they never picked up or called back, which was fine by him. He was usually only calling them for a second date because they seemed nice, not because he had felt any kind of chemistry.

What was wrong with him? He felt like girls must have some kind of sense that he wasn't interested. Sam was a total ladies' man, and even Clint had girlfriends – trainwrecks, every one of them – but while Bucky sometimes had girls hitting on him at the bar, nothing ever came of it. Same with Steve.

It was so stupid. Obviously his body was telling him that he wasn't meant to be a celibate monk. Someone – didn't matter that it was Steve – had touched him and reminded his dick that it still worked. Hell, maybe it was Darcy.

Next week he could see if Darcy had a wedding ring. One would figure that someone teaching a childbirth class would have a kid or two of her own, but that didn't necessarily mean she was married. Look at Sharon – she was doing it all on her own.

Yes, that's what he would do. Ask Darcy out.

But it had been Steve's hands on his back. Steve's big man hands. Jesus Christ, he was getting a boner just thinking about it. Stop, he told himself.

Needless to say, he didn't sleep well, and when Steve swung by to pick him up the following morning for work Bucky knew Steve could tell. "Coffee?" Steve asked.

"Coffee," Bucky agreed.

Steve swung into the Starbucks drive-thru line. There were five cars ahead of them.

"Rough night?" Steve asked.

Bucky grunted.

"You'd think, after that nice massage, you woulda slept like a baby."

"Ha, ha," Bucky said, still grumpy.

"I mean... I was thinking, maybe next week I can pretend to be the pregnant one," Steve said casually. "And you can massage me."

Why did Bucky suddenly have an image of himself straddling Steve's back and rubbing him down? Stop it, he growled to himself. He shifted in his seat and rubbed his eyes. "If you want."

"I do," Steve said, drawing out the words suggestively.

Bucky ground his fist into his eye.

Finally they reached the speaker to place the order. "I'll have a venti iced Café Americano with 2 sugars and a grande Hazelnut Macciato with whipped cream."

Despite how grumpy he was, he couldn't keep his mouth shut as Steve inched forward. In a British accent he said, "Oh, a hazelnut macci-a-to. And don't forget the whipped cream, I cannot have my fancy coffee without whipped cream."

"Fuck you," Steve laughed.

"Real men only drink black coffee and straight whiskey!" Bucky barked in the voice of their high school gym teacher. "And gasoline!"

"Diesel fuel!" Steve added. "Gasoline is for pansies!"

"Real men only eat animals we've killed ourselves!"

"With our bare hands!"

Bucky was already feeling better by the time they got to the window. He sucked down half of his drink before they got to the construction site five minutes later. "Slow down or you're gonna be running to the Porta potty in ten minutes," Steve warned.

"Says he of the world's tiniest bladder."

"Wanna bet who'll break the seal first?" Steve had a twinkle in his eye.

"You're on!" Immediately Bucky sensed the need to pee. I can do this, he told himself. Steve usually visited the bathroom three times before lunch.

"Twenty minutes late with a Starbucks," said Nick when they walked up. Nick was the foreman, and he wore an eyepatch as a warning to his employees to keep the site safe.

"We're not late!" Steve checked his watch just to make sure.

"Course you're not late. You're the most punctual motherfucker I ever met."

Despite knowing it wouldn't help his cause, Bucky downed the rest of his coffee while they strapped on their tool belts and waited for the other guys to show up. His eyes felt grainy and rough, and he kept finding himself watching Steve's hands.

At least a full bladder will distract me, Bucky told himself.

And distract him it did. By the time he finally admitted he couldn't hold it any longer, he had to run to the Porta potty so he didn't wet himself. While he was in there, he heard the bang of the door on the toilet beside his. "Steve?" He called out over the amplified sound of himself peeing.

"I still won the bet!" Steve called back.

"So, big winner, where are we having dinner tonight?" Bucky asked after waiting for Steve to come out of the Porta potty. "Joe's? Phil's? Happy Sam's? Dum Dum's?"

"I was thinking something more sit-down."

"You can sit down at all those places."

"You know what I mean."

"You mean you want a salad."

"What's wrong with a salad?"

"Real men don't eat salad!" Bucky barked.

"I just... want a salad." Steve shoved his hands in his pockets, then added, "A man salad."

"What's a man salad?"

"You know. A salad with some meat!"

"Meat!" Bucky made some manly growling sounds. "Okay, so, what about Jacques?"

"Yeah, okay."

"You could even get some fancy escargot if you want."

"Gross."

Gesturing to his clothes, he asked, "We goin' like this? Straight outta work?"

Steve looked down at himself. "Hmm."

"We could. Who gives a fuck, right?"

"Jacques is fancy. I guess we could go back and clean up a little."

"That's stupid. You're gonna drop me off at my place, then go back to your place, then pick me up again?"

"You could shower at my place," Steve said. "Borrow some clothes."

"O-kay," said Bucky, making it sound like a chore. "Guess I'll just have to deal with looking like a nerd all night."

"Real men don't wear collared shirts! Real men wear leather and metal!" Steve bellowed.

"I don't need to know what kinky shit you two get up to after work," Nick called over his shoulder. "What I need is for these frames to get done before the end of the week!"

Steve turned bright red, and Bucky nearly choked on his laughter. It helped hide the fact that his face was bright red, too.

Eventually Steve laughed at himself and they got to work. Bucky had nearly forgotten about that one time Steve basically told everyone that he and Bucky enjoyed the BDSM scene when, a half hour later, Steve whispered, "Real men like whips and chains."

After his initial shock wore off, Bucky coughed out a laugh. "No blindfolds and featherplay for manly men."

"So manly, only men are allowed in the sex dungeon," Steve added.

"You need to stop talking," Bucky laughed. There were moments, like this one, where Bucky wondered if Steve truly understood every innuendo coming out of his mouth.

"That's right," Steve said. "Real men are silent. Stoic. Real men don't need puny words to express their wants and needs."

Thankful that the topic had gotten off the whole sex thing, Bucky chimed in. "Real men don't want. Real men take!"

"Can you real men shut the hell up?" called one of the guys, much closer to where Steve and Bucky were working than they expected.

"No one appreciates our humor," Bucky said sadly.