The Party Atmosphere
74days
Summary:
Steve Rogers lets his best friend Peggy talk him in to attending Tony Starks party as her plus one to avoid an ex who just won't take the hint - it's a long night though, and things don't turn out just how Steve imagined!
Steve didn't want to go to Starks party. The guy was rich and handsome and Steve was neither – he'd been waiting for the second wave of puberty to take him past the 5'4 mark and now at 25 he was pretty sure he was stuck – he didn't particularly want to be reminded of his inadequacies.
The thing was though, that Peggy had wanted to go – and Steve knew that if she asked, he'd end up going. Of course, she'd asked.
"I just don't want to have to dodge Brock all night." She told him as he sat on the edge of her bed and watched her plan her outfit. "He just isn't taking no for an answer."
Steve wanted to say something like "You shouldn't have dated him then." But that would have been cruel, Peggy hadn't known he was a total asshole when she'd agreed to go out with him – he was polite and charming and Steve's warnings about his true behaviour were pushed aside. He knew that Peggy had thought he was jealous. Not of dating Brock, but what Brock was. Tall, muscular, masculine. Everything Steve wasn't. So she'd gone out with him and discovered on her own that he was, in fact, the giant douchebag Steve warned her about.
"I understand." He said instead. "So you want me to go with you?" The whole idea was laughable. Like Brock Rumlow would honestly think that Steve Rogers was dating a girl like Peggy Carter – that a girl like Peggy would ever date a shrimp like Steve. The whole thing was hilarious. Steve wasn't going to be the 'protection' from Brock, he was going to be the laughing stock. It was, however, quite nice that Peggy didn't see that.
"Yes." She smiled, "It's perfect, you can be my date and Brock will see that I've moved on from him." She pulled a dress from her closet and held it up to her body. "You're a good man, Steve. I know you don't want to go."
"I'd do anything for you, Peg." He told her, honesty in every word.
"Fuck off, Nat." Bucky snapped, sitting on the edge of her bed as she picked her outfit out. "No chance."
He wasn't going to get roped into this stupid ass plan to make some loser guy jealous – he was done being used as a prop for other peoples agendas.
"It's just one party." She told him, completely ignoring his pointed refusal. "Four hours, max." She glared at him over her shoulder. "And I very clearly remember that you owe me."
"I don't fucking care," Bucky shot back. "I'm not going to some rich assholes party so you can ditch me the second what's-his-name with the arms shows up." He glared. "I don't even know this Stark guy."
Natasha didn't even bat an eye. "You can wear the black jeans and the black shirt, roll up the sleeves." She turned to face him. "I will fight you on this."
Peggy picked Steve's outfit, mostly so they wouldn't clash. His navy jeans looked far too casual for his liking, but she'd picked a white shirt and a red jacket that matched her tight red dress, and a pair of high navy heels. She always looked stunning, her matte red lips and perfectly styled hair. She loved the looks of the girls in the 40's and had spent a long time matching their style. Steve could watch her do her make-up for hours. Her job as an interior decorator had thrown her into a sudden but close friendship with Tony Stark's long term girlfriend Pepper when she'd been asked to design a look for the private areas of Stark Tower.
Steve, of course, had never met either Tony or Pepper, but he'd be Peggy's plus one, and that would get him into the most exclusive party in New York.
His job as an illustrator kept him fairly busy – he'd been working with a Swedish writer for the better part of three years, and his books were only just starting to get translated into English now. Thor's books were educational and fun, about a troublemaking set of brothers with magical powers. They were based on the theologies of Norse Gods and Steve loved drawing the illustrations for them. He sometimes drew the covers for romance novels too – much to the amusement of his best friend Sam, when he'd show up with a couple of beers and a pizza to find Steve carefully shading in the ripped bodice of some swooning damsel.
"Don't look so nervous!" Peggy smiled, lips red and teeth white. "You look really smart, very dashing." Her English accent made her sound much more refined than any of the other girls Steve knew – not that he knew many.
"I just don't think that… you know… it's not my scene." He managed. Patting his jacket down, he ran through the list of things he needed to keep on him: Wallet, inhaler, epi-pen, ID. He always got ID'd – no matter where he went, he doubted that this would be an exception – Peggy had mentioned a bar.
"Steve, you're an excellent man who has a wonderful, interesting career. You need to stop selling yourself short all the time." She admonished softly, before the cab pulled to a stop at the newly built Stark Tower. "You'll have a good time if you just let yourself."
"This is bullshit, Nat." Bucky grumbled as the cab pulled up at the tower. Natasha was the head of Stark's security firm and was always at these events, but this was the first time that she'd been asked as a guest. She'd been sent an invite from Stark with a plus one, and although she had her eye on the guy from Stark's Research and Development team, she'd really only spoken to him a few times. Showing up to a party on her own might show her up as desperate. Showing up with Bucky made her look more desirable or some shit like that. Bucky don't approve – this guy was either going to find her hot or not (no man with blood in his veins wouldn't think Nat was hot) and Bucky being there wouldn't make any difference.
But… she was his best friend, and she'd been his best friend for a long time, even when he'd been a fucking asshole to everyone – working private sector for Peirce fucked him over – and she'd stood by him when he'd hit rock bottom. He owed her. Which she constantly reminded him of.
"Look, it's a free bar, Stark always has hot girls and hotter guys – you can prop up the bar for all I care, but when you walk in here, you're representing me." She turned to look at him as she opened the cab door. "And you make me look bad in front of my boss, I'll kill you in your sleep."
He didn't doubt it.
Being Peggy's plus one was nice. She introduced him to new people as "Steve Rogers, you may have seen his work in Queens?" which was a nice touch – he'd once had a few pieces shown at a gallery there, before he'd started illustrating full time. The fact that everyone pretended to know who he was after that was amusing to him. Peggy, of course, just assumed they remembered his flash in the pan success. She was nice like that.
"Ah, Peggy!" A woman said, walking over with a glass in her hand and a wide smile. Her cream dress was smart and almost business-like, red hair swishing as she walked.
"Pepper!" Peggy smiled, and they touched their cheeks together with a kiss. "How wonderful to see you," Peggy said. "We expected you'd be eaten up with the crowd tonight."
"Oh, Tony's keeping most of them at bay." She laughed, smiling at Steve. "And this of course must be Steven."
"Miss Potts." He said, extending his hand. "A pleasure to meet you."
"Oh, Peggy's just told me all about you." Pepper smiled, and Steve found himself liking her warmth towards Peggy and himself. "It's a small world, you know, I actually bought one of your pieces a few years ago." She waved a hand around the art on the walls. "Don't even look at this stuff, Tony has the worst taste ever. It's actually one of the reasons Peggy and I started talking, she recognised your work."
Steve didn't know that, and Peggy wouldn't have forgotten something like that – not when she was so constant in her bolstering of his fragile ego. "I just mentioned that I knew the artist, that's all." Peggy laughed. "And Pepper's just been using me to get close to you."
Both Pepper and Peggy laughed at that, and Steve smiled, not quite getting the joke.
"Oh, she's right. I actually wanted to commission a new piece for my birthday – Tony's absolutely useless at gifts, so I'm taking it upon myself to get something I actually want."
Steve nodded, smiling. He'd never really been asked for anything like that before, and was quiet flattered. "Of course." He nodded, "Um, just let me know what you're looking for."
"Ah! Ms Romanov!" Tony Stark said, walking up to Natasha as she cut through the crowd. He was wearing a suit that probably cost more than Bucky's apartment, facial hair carefully groomed. "Looking both stunning and deadly, as expected." He didn't kiss her cheek, Bucky noted. Probably knew better – she'd killed a man for less. "And this is?"
"James Barnes." She said, turning her head to look at Bucky. "Former spec-ops, worked for Peirce for a while."
Tony Stark looked him over, and Bucky tried not to get on the defensive. "Bad business that." He said, after a while, which –considering the shit Peirce Protection pulled over the years, was mild indeed. "This the guy you were telling me about?"
"Yes." She said, turning back to Stark. "He'd be ideal." She glanced over at Bucky, and he got the feeling he'd been lured to the party under false pretences. "Stark is building some new guns. Long distance. Needs to test them out with real people – snipers preferably." She shrugged, "You fit the bill."
"And if you're as good as Romanov says you are; I may have a job for you." Stark said, holding out his hand.
Steve had left Pepper and Peggy chatting animatedly together, Pepper wanting to introduce Peggy to same people she knew. Steve, knowing that their conversation wouldn't be much improved by his presence, offered to get them a drink instead. Peggy declined and Pepper was holding a mostly full glass, so he slipped away to find the bar for himself.
He wasn't a big drinker, but he also wasn't very fond of crowds. Peggy understood that, and smiled at him as he left them.
The bar was busy, and Steve was really too small to catch the attention of the bartender, so he resigned himself to the far corner and half-heartedly waving at the server as he worked through the lines of people.
Bucky was right – the moment that Clint-with-the-arms showed up (yeah, those were nice arms) Natasha ditched him. She was nice about it, but her smiles and polite introductions were all the hint the Bucky needed to make himself scarce. Clint seemed like an okay guy – a lot more laid back than Natasha's usual guys, but maybe that was a good thing. He was also wearing two hearing-aids and Bucky wondered if that hindered his ability in the field – because he was obviously a military man in the past. However, they'd been introduced and Clint seemed like a nice enough guy, and funny too. He figured he'd met enough of Natasha's ex-boyfriends to be a good judge and that guy was nothing like the other douchebags she'd slept with.
He left him teasing her on some inside joke, and headed towards the bar. "Nice to meet you, dude!" Clint called out, and Bucky waved a hand in a mock salute that got a wide grin. Yeah, he figured Clint wasn't too bad.
The bar was pretty crowded, so he edged along trying to see a space he could squeeze himself in to get served.
There was a space near the back corner, and he aimed for that – not noticing that the space was already occupied by someone until he was almost standing on him.
"Shit, sorry!" He said, moving back a little and putting a little space between them. It was only then that he was able to actually look at the guy leaning against the bar.
He was short, Bucky would have been surprised if he'd hit 5'5, and his body was built small – narrow hips, slim arms – but not feminine like some smaller guys could be – his jaw was square and his features were definitely masculine. He looked like he'd been half way through puberty and then frozen, but Bucky could see in his eyes he wasn't a child. He was leaning on the bar, long fingers that had been drumming out a rhythm on the sticky surface, delicate bones and pale skin.
Jesus, he was like a wet dream come to life.
Steve had pretty much resigned himself to being ignored by the bartender, but he wasn't about to let some drunken asshole push in front of him – he'd been about to tell the guy to watch where he was going, but the words died in his mouth.
The guy who'd almost stood on him was probably the hottest guy Steve had ever seen. Taller than him (which, honestly, wasn't hard) but not towering over him like Thor did when they'd met, with a slightly cleft chin and dark blue eyes. He'd apologised before stepping back, and Steve could tell he was muscular – his black jeans hugged his thighs like a second skin, and his shirt sleeves had been rolled up to show off tanned, muscular forearms with a light dusting of hair.
He'd skipped shaving - Steve tried once to grow a 'stubble' but it had been patchy and ridiculous – but on this guy, it highlighted the set of his jaw, and the fullness of his mouth. His hair was long, pulled back into some kind of bun thing, a few strands escaping to curl around his cheekbones – Steve's fingers itched to tuck it back.
All in all, Steve was pretty sure he was the hottest guy in the room. Or ever.
And then he smiled.
"Sorry," Bucky repeated, and scanned quickly over the blond again, trying to see if there were any cues he was missing (wedding ring tan line missing, so that was a good sign at least) before giving his best smile. "Bucky Barnes." He said, holding out his hand with a self depreciating smile. "Didn't see you there."
The smaller man smiled, it lit up his whole face like the fucking sun coming out and Bucky ached with the desire to get to know this guy a whole lot better. "Steve Rogers – and don't worry about it," He shrugged, glancing over at the bartender. "You're not the only one who's having issues seeing me tonight."
Bucky found himself smiling again, and he sent a thankful telepathic message to Natasha for forcing him to the party. Maybe she was right – maybe he just needed to meet some new people. More specifically, this person.
"Looks pretty busy." Bucky commented, before sliding a little closer to the bar, and to Steve. He was testing the water – if this guy was straight it would be a fucking crime – but he'd back off. When all he got it return was a warm smile, he felt himself grin even wider. "So, you one of Starks buddies?" He asked, glancing around. The place seemed fit to bust with sharp suits and fancy tie pins, and although Steve looked pretty much good enough to eat, he didn't fit that mould.
"Never met the man." Steve shrugged, running his long fingers through his hair. "My friend Peggy asked me to come with her, she knows Pepper."
"Your girlfriend?"
"No." Steve replied, a touch quicker than needed (Bucky mentally cheered) "She's just a friend," he swallowed, "She was avoiding a guy, wanted to show up with a date so he'd back off, you know?"
"Yeah, I get that." Bucky laughed. "Got roped into showing up with my best friend, and she's ditched me for the guy she actually wanted. I'm not exactly her type."
Steve inched back, just enough to look Bucky up and down. "I'm pretty sure you're everyones type." He said, before the tips of his ears went bright red. "I mean, you're... you know... you're very... um..."
Steve wondered if the earth would swallow him whole. That's what he wanted to happen, but the floor stayed depressingly solid. He'd been direct (Peggy said he needed to be more direct when flirting) and he'd hit the ball right into 'weird and uncomfortable'.
"Just ignore me." He said, turning back to the bar and the bartender who was still managing to look everywhere but at Steve.
"Well, that would kind of go against my person mission to get to know you a bit better." Bucky grinned, and then grinned even wider when Steve looked at him in surprise. "I'm not Nat's type." He shrugged. "But she's really not mine." He smirked. "Being that she's, you know, a she."
"Oh." Steve said, and then smiled a little. "Oh! Right. Okay." He smiled a little wider. "I'd offer to buy you a drink, but I seem to be completely incapable of attracting the attention of the bartender."
Bucky shrugged, leaning even closer to Steve, close enough that he could pick up the slight woodsy smell of his aftershave. "Don't really understand that," He said, "You attracted mine quick enough."
Steve picked up the phone as he roughly towel dried his hair. "Rogers," He said, voice a little hoarse.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Steve!" Peggy said down the line, "I honestly didn't even know you'd headed home – I got so distracted with Pepper and her friend Bruce, did you meet Bruce?"
"Erm, I don't think so." Steve said, tucking his towel a little tighter. "Don't worry though, I got home fine."
"I'm the worst friend in the whole world!" She said, "I didn't even think to let you know I was heading off! I promise I'll make it up to you though," She hurried. "How about I treat you to breakfast at that diner you adore? The one on the corner?"
There was a mug of hot coffee on the kitchen counter, and he picked it up with relish. "Ah, I don't think I'll be able to make it." He said, watching Bucky as he leaned against the counter, hair still damp from the shower, towel slung low over his hips. "I um... I'm a little busy?" He blushed a little as Bucky nodded, eyeing him up and down. They'd left Starks party early, headed right to Steve's apartment – where Bucky had spent the night. A great night. A very, very great night.
"I thought you were taking today off?" She asked, and he was about to reply when Bucky sneezed. "Who was that?" She said and then: "OH! Oh, my! Steven!" She gasped sounding scandalised and delighted at the same time. "You dark horse!"
"Well, um..." He stammered, as Bucky rubbed at his nose, looking gorgeous and damp and adorable all at the same time.
"Say no more!" She giggled. "Oh, I'm so thrilled! Is he nice? Are you okay? Are you happy?"
"Yes, great and incredibly." He replied, "You're okay with me not going for breakfast?"
"Steven Grant Rogers, if you even think about showing up at that diner I will personally thrash you rotten!" She scolded, and then, in a much more happy tone. "Oh, Steve! I hope he's nice."
"He is." Steve said, looking at Bucky, who smirked. "He's very nice."
Once they'd said their goodbyes, Bucky leaned forward. "Just so you know, I'm not about to let you out of my sight for the next... oh, ten to twenty years or so."
Steve laughed. "I'm okay with that." He said. Because he was.
Very okay with that.
