The throbbing bass feels like it's rattling your bones as you sit on a barstool; the martini Natasha had ordered for you is taking you from hot to borderline overheating. You'd never been in a club before, but you can say for sure that you're not a fan.
"Y/n, start looking excited to be here or we'll have to start buying our own drinks," Natasha says just loudly enough to be heard over the music, her lips twisting into a coy smile at a man across the room.
"You're awful," You reply, but you make an effort to sit up a little straighter.
"He's cute," Wanda nods at a tall blonde haired man leaning against the bar farther down from you, "You should go talk to him."
"How about we just go home?" You suggest, "I really don't think I'm going to meet Prince Charming at a bar."
"Prince Charming?" Natasha snorts, "We didn't bring you here for prince charming we brought you here to get-"
"Natasha!" You scold, cheeks tinged with pink, "We get the point, thanks." You slump back down into your seat, swirling the remains of your drink in your glass.
"Okay, okay," She waves a hand impatiently at you, "This is obviously not working, we brought you here to have fun. So, no more talk of guys, let's just have a good time. Let's do shots." You groan as you sit back up but a small smile lifts the corners of your lips.
"Just one."
An hour later the three of you were on the dance floor, Natasha keeping a measured distance as she teased the poor sap who had approached her, while you and Wanda danced together; your hips swaying to the beat of the music. One shot turned into two which turned into five and you were feeling good. When Natasha sets the guy loose you leave the two girls to dance together and you head back to the bar, leaning across it to order another drink.
"Hi." You turn around, your eyes meeting a pair of icy blue eyes. Bucky? You blink. They're the wrong shade; wrong guy. The man standing in front of you looks more like the clean cut Bucky you had seen as a kid in the history museum not your dangerous scruffy man back home.
"Hello," You say tentatively, grabbing your drink from the bar.
"I'm Bryce, I saw you dancing out there and I just had to say hello; you're absolutely stunning." You almost spit into your drink.
"Really? Thank you. I'm (Y/n)."
"It's a little loud to talk in here," Bryce smiles, "Maybe I could give you my number and we could chat some place quieter, maybe over dinner?" You glance up across the room where Natasha is staring you down. When you make eye contact she nods vigorously while Wanda gives you a double thumbs up.
"Okay." You say after a moment, he grabs a pen off the bar and writes his name and number down on the napkin.
"I sincerely hope to hear from you soon," Bryce says, giving you another smile before he rejoins his friends. Natasha and Wanda are at your side in a second.
"(Y/n)! He was gorgeous! Please tell me you got his number." Wanda gushes. You hold up the napkin triumphantly.
"Mission accomplished, now can we go home?"
The car ride home is full of giggles-unbecoming of some of the best fighters in the universe-but you find your mind drifting to the initial moment bar-guy had approached you and how for a brief moment you had thought it was Bucky; excitement and adrenaline had flooded your system-not the kind of excitement when you saw a friend, but when you saw a crush-a feeling you hadn't felt in a long time. And a feeling you definitely didn't get about your best friend.
Steve and Bucky are still in the living room when you get home so the moment you walk in Natasha snatches the napkin from your hand and holds it up like a proud mother. "(Y/n)'s going on a daaaate!" She drags the last word out much longer than necessary and you duck your head to hide your burning cheeks.
"Congrats (Y/n)," Steve sends you a smile while Bucky looks up at you, an odd expression on his face. Natasha shoves the napkin back into your hand before she leaps onto Steve's back, nimbly fastening her arms around his neck.
"Make me a milkshake?"
"Ooh, me too," Wanda coos, looping her arm through Steve's.
"(Y/n)?" Steve offers, and you smile.
"No thanks," You plop on the couch next to Bucky as they head to the kitchen.
"So who's the lucky guy?" Bucky asks, his voice sounding strained to your ears. You shrug.
"Some guy who gave me his number at the bar," You pick at the edges of the napkin absentmindedly, "I probably won't call him. I mean, how do people even date anymore?"
"Your guess is as good as mine doll," Bucky smiles at you but it doesn't reach his eyes. You lean into his shoulder, inhaling deeply. His flannel shirt smells like laundry detergent and something uniquely Bucky. His body stiffens at your touch, his muscles unusually tense before he finally relaxes. "You smell like gin." You point to a dark splotch on your dress.
"I spilled my drink on myself." You both laugh, "I wish you would've come."
"Oh yeah?" Bucky snorts, "I'm sure Natasha is a much better at helping you pick up guys than I would be."
"I don't want to pick up guys," You smack his arm playfully, "Besides, how do you explain all this," You gesture around to the room around you, "To someone?" You shake your head, "Not to mention I am a fugitive. I don't think dating is in the cards for me right now." You snap your fingers, sparking a small flame, and hover the napkin over it until it catches fire. You watch as the napkin burns, hovering in front of the two of you until it disappears completely, the flame with it.
"Poor guy," Bucky shakes his head, "He probably had no idea he was playin' with fire." He grins and you return the smile with one of your own. You weren't sure why he was so tense before, but whatever it was it didn't seem to be bothering him anymore.
"Shush it," You tell him, "I'm heading to bed. Let's shoot tomorrow morning before I train with Sam."
"Sounds good."
You're not sure if it's the alcohol still coursing through your veins or your earlier train of thought regarding the man at your side, but you press a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw before you rise to your feet. "Night Buck."
Why drunk you thought that shooting the next morning was going to be a good idea was a mystery. You wince at each individual shot as Bucky empties his clip into the paper target.
"Knew you were gonna regret this one," He says smugly, "How's the head." You shoot him a glare, nudging him out of the way so you have room to aim. Your first shot goes wide, missing completely, and your second just clips the paper. You're aiming for your third when he lowers your gun with his hand. "You're never gonna hit it like that, let me help you." Suddenly his chest is flush against your back and you're both holding the gun. "You have to relax," he says softly, his lips almost touching your ear, "Aim, breathe, and pull the trigger." Your heart is racing in your chest but you try and match your breathing to his. You exhale, and together you pull the trigger; the bullet rips right through the center of the targets head. "Try it yourself." He steps away, and you're not sure if you're relieved or upset at the loss of contact.
You take a deep breath and fire on the exhale, the bullet goes a little left, but it's still a kill shot. Better than anything you'd managed this morning. "Thanks Bucky." Why did you sound so winded? Your face suddenly felt hot.
"You alright? You look a little…"
"I'm fine!"
"You sure? Maybe you should skip the training with Sam today and lay down." His large hand wraps around your bicep.
"Sam!" You latch onto the word like a life preserver, suddenly desperate to be anywhere but the room you were currently in with the person you were currently with, "I don't want to keep him waiting. I should go." You pull off your ear protection and toss it onto the table.
"O...kay?" Bucky rolls his eyes, and turns back to the target area. You can hear his shots echoing as you walk down the hallway. Alone, you finally feel like you can breathe again. What the hell was that? You couldn't recall a single moment in your time with the Avenger's in which you had ever felt-uncomfortable wasn't the right word-affected by Bucky's presence like that. But that wasn't necessarily true; your mind dredges up the memory of your first Stark party and the look you and Bucky had shared that night. That look hadn't been of friendship but of-you forcibly cut off that train of thought. Bucky had been your friend before any of the others, he had kept you afloat when it felt like you were drowning during your first couple months. Now you weren't sure where you stood, but you knew it felt like Bucky would set you aflame with just a simple touch.
"You coming in or are you too scared?" Sam taunts as you hover outside the door lost in your own thoughts.
"You wish Wilson," you roll your eyes and meet him on the mat in the center of the room, cracking your knuckles menacingly.
He absolutely destroys you. It's hard to concentrate when your mind keeps wandering to Bucky's firm chest pressed against your back.
Sam grins as he pulls you to your feet after laying you out on the mat. "Damn, that would be an ego boost if you weren't completely distracted. Where you at today?"
"You don't even want to know," You wipe the sweat from your face with the bottom of your tank top. "Pencil me in for a rematch sometime this week so I can redeem myself from that slaughter."
"I should say no so I can always remember this moment, but how can I say no to this pretty face?" Sam pokes your nose and you swat his hand away.
"Yeah yeah, shove it Wilson." You head towards the door, shooting him a smile before you leave so he knows you're not actually angry.
"Did you guys hear how I absolutely destroyed (Y/n) this morning when we trained?" Sam leans back in his chair and crosses his arms while you roll your eyes.
"You?" Bucky snorts, "(Y/n) must have been completely off her game."
"She was probably thinking about cutie from the bar," Natasha offers, a smirk on her lips.
"Cutie from the bar?" Tony leans forward, "(Y/n), do tell."
"There's absolutely nothing to tell," You shoot back, "Some guy at the bar gave me his number. End of story."
"But you are going to call him though, right?" Natasha frowns.
"I uh...lost his number actually."
"Lost it?" Her eyes narrow.
"If she doesn't want to call him that's her business," Wanda sets her hand on Natasha's arm.
"I think my entire love life should probably be my business."
Natasha snorts and says, "What love life?" At the same time Sam says, "You should try Tinder."
"Come on, when's the last time Steve's been on a date?" You gesture towards the blonde who looks up at you with wide eyes, Bucky grinning at his side.
"Wha-with Sharon," Steve says immediately.
"That was a kiss, not a date."
"I'll allow it," Natasha replies.
"What?" You half shout, "I've kissed people."
"Who have you kissed?" Bucky asks, which brings a blush to your face as you had been thinking about the peck you had given him the night before when you spoke.
"People!" You say defensively.
"Sounds like fake news to me," Bucky says while everyone laughs. You playfully fling a few noodles in his direction and grin as one sticks to his cheek. He grabs it gently between two metal fingers and pops it into his mouth before sending you a wink. "Delicious."
"Alright, when the food starts flying that's my cue to leave," Bruce smiles and starts to get up.
"Does that mean this horrible family dinner is over?" You ask, standing as well.
"If by horrible you mean amazing, then yes," Tony says as you grab your leftover chinese carton and head towards the door, "Oh, and you're welcome."
Bucky catches up to you as you head up towards your room, falling into place beside you and snagging a couple of noodles out of your container.
"So why don't you date?" You almost choke on the noodle you had just dropped in your mouth.
"What?"
"You've been here what, a year or so now? You've never gone out with anyone."
"I go out with you guys all the time."
"You know what I mean," Bucky rolls his eyes, "On dates."
"I thought we talked about this last night," You frown, "What am I supposed to do, bring my date back here? Not to mention," You hold up your hand showing him the soft flames that dance along your fingertips, "Trying to explain that."
"Sounds like excuses to me." You stop walking, gaping at him.
"Wh-are you kidding me? I forgot that I was talking to New York's most sociable person over here. When's the last time you got laid Bucko?"
"Now that's not very fair darlin'," Bucky chuckles, "See, you didn't spend the better part of a century cryogenically frozen. And if we're talking about weird physical things, I do have a metal arm."
"Oh, girls love the metal arm," You swat at him playfully, "But I'm a mutant. It's different-it shouldn't be, but it is. You and Steve are like science experiments gone right, and I almost burned down my house as a kid." You look up at him to meet his soft gaze, "It's been so freeing being here, not having to hide who I am, and I never want to go back to how it was before."
"Well I think any guy would be lucky to have you," You swallow thickly as his eyes smoulder at you, before they crinkle up at the corners when he grins, "Freaky fire powers and all."
"Yeah yeah," You grumble, pushing past him to start walking again, "Keep it up and you'll find out what the melting point of vibranium is, buddy."