Steve was beginning to get a feel for Fury after four days on the job. He was a strong personality, passionate about what he believed in. But he wasn't around much, once Steve had gotten his official training on the Shield procedures.
Steve had read the script to get to know the characters, and had sketched a couple pages worth of designs. He was currently taking a break by rifling through the many racks of costumes.
Some were ready-made items that had been altered, but some were from scratch. There was an adjoining room beyond the clothing racks that held four sewing machines and sergers, and a wall full of fabric and notions. That was the direction Steve wanted to take his first silver screen costumes. Made from scratch, not even a premade pattern, so he could get every detail just so.
There was a rap at the door frame, and he poked his head out from behind the rack of blazers. Bucky stood at the door with two cups of coffee in his hands.
"You got the job!" he said excitedly, raising his coffee-laden hands. Steve blushed and ducked his head. He'd been mentally preparing himself for interactions with Bucky, though he hadn't expected him to show up out of the blue like this.
"Thanks to you getting me here on time," Steve replied. He was mortified about his behavior the last time they met and was determined to not let his crush on Bucky get the best of him. He thought it was going well so far. Bucky seemed pleased that he was able to string coherent words together a bit better this time around.
"I think you did most of the work. Here," he said, holding out a coffee with the half-smile Steve had seen so often in his movies. "I took the liberty. It's just black, I don't know how you like it yet."
As much as Steve had prepared himself for speaking with Bucky, he hadn't prepared for Bucky flirting with him, which was what his brain was trying to tell him was happening right now. The rational part of him dismissed the thought instantly.
"Thanks, black is perfect," he said, taking the offered cup. He'd written "Congratulations! :)" on the cardboard sleeve in messy script.
"What'd I tell you about Fury, huh?" Bucky said, strolling in to flop down on the couch, on top of everything, testing the temperature of the coffee carefully against his lips. Steve leaned back against the vanity.
"He's not so bad. He actually seems to have given me run of the place," Steve gestured around vaguely.
"Must be those trustworthy eyes," Bucky teased. "So you're doing my wardrobe? What've you got for my uniform?" he asked, quirking one eyebrow over those dancing blue eyes.
The movie was a WWII period piece about a GI's romance with a British nurse, and Steve was totally in his element. He loved the '40s era fashion, and set his cup down to grab his sketchbook and move to the couch. He handed Bucky his sketchbook and dumped a pile of fabric unceremoniously onto the floor so he could sit next to him. The first page was a bare-bones sketch of a Sergeant's uniform.
Steve gestured for Bucky to flip the page. There were sketches and doodles across the page, culminating in a waist-up of Bucky in an olive green jacket, complete with brass buttons and army pins. Steve realized he may have spent a little too much time on Bucky's face and hair, with detailing and shadowing, but it was too late now.
"Wow," Bucky breathed. "These are really good."
Steve chuckled nervously, swiping his hand over the back of his neck. "Thanks. Like I said, I went to art school, and have always liked drawing. It's helped me out in designing."
"Could I have one of these?" Bucky asked, then amended quickly, when Steve's eyes widened in surprise. "Just when you're done with them, I mean. It's-it's really great," he said with a small chuckle.
"Yeah, of course," Steve replied. He always thought he was pretty good, but was sure his artwork didn't deserve the reverence with which Bucky was admiring it.
There was a rap at the door and both men looked up to see Peggy Carter leaning her hip against the doorway.
"Hello there, I didn't mean to interrupt. Just dropped by to say hello," she said with a smile. She was in a white blouse and black slacks, and she was even more gorgeous in person than on screen.
"More like you heard our new costumer is a beefcake and you came to get your hands on him," Bucky teased. Steve was pretty sure he blacked out for a second.
Peggy laughed, "While that is the word that's going around, my intentions are pure, I assure you." She stepped forward and extended her hand. Steve rose to take it. "Peggy Carter, pleasure to meet you."
"Steve Rogers, likewise." Steve stood, taking a fistful of fabric scraps and thread spools with him from the couch and gesturing to the open space. Peggy sat at the edge of the cushion and crossed her ankles while Steve grabbed the chair from the vanity.
"How has Nick been treating you? Gently, I hope."
"Oh, he's been just fine," Steve replied. "Not nearly as terrifying as his name, or his eye patch, suggests."
"Did Bucky tell you about chiffon?"
The three of them laughed and chatted easily for a few minutes about the goings on at the studio and the production schedule. It was the most surreal moment of Steve's life.
"Well, I suppose I ought to leave you boys to it," she said with a lopsided smile at Bucky, who Steve thought might've been glaring at her, but he was trying hard not to look at him too much. "Steve, I'll be seeing you. I trust you'll make me look gorgeous."
"Won't be hard," Steve said, standing as Peggy took her leave.
Bucky was looking at him incredulously as Steve sat back down.
"What?"
Bucky just shook his head with a smile. "You're somethin' else."
"Am I?" Steve asked, trying and failing to suppress a grin behind his coffee cup. He was pretty sure that sounded like a compliment.
"Yeah. Not sure what, yet," Bucky said. He had to run to a read-through with the cast, and shot Steve a friendly grin as he left. Steve managed to keep his feet until Bucky was out of sight, then he collapsed on the couch, mentally exhausted.
His couldn't stop his mind from playing back everything Bucky had said. Steve slid down on the couch to rest his head on the armrest. He needed to stop that train of thought at the station. Bucky wasn't gay; Steve had seen pictures of him a while ago on tabloid covers and on the Internet with the Russian supermodel Natalia Romanova. Not that no one could fake a relationship, but it seemed genuine. They were together for a while before they split up a few months ago.
Even if he wasn't strictly straight, Bucky would never be interested in him. A man couldn't go from dating arguably the most beautiful woman in the world to a dork like him. Steve wasn't unaware of his physical attractiveness, he was just painfully aware of Bucky's.
Even if Bucky was mildly interested, for the sake of his heart, Steve needed to avoid that like the plague. He was never a casual relationship kind of guy. It would be all too easy to fall head over heels for Bucky, he could tell already, and it would never work out between them, even if Bucky wanted something serious. Bucky was constantly traveling all over the world for press and shooting, surrounded by beautiful people who all wanted a piece of him. Steve couldn't compete. It spelled heartbreak all over.
"Glad to see you're working hard," Fury said, strolling in through the back room. Steve startled so hard that couch debris flew up around him and onto the floor.
"I was just…" Steve started, but trailed off.
"Let's see what you've sketched up so far," Fury said, holding his hand out for Steve's sketchbook. Steve handed it over. Fury made a few grunting noises, but Steve couldn't tell what they meant.
"I haven't done many for Ms. Carter yet, but I was thinking we could do something with…chiffon?" he offered hopefully.
Fury narrowed his eyes at him for a moment.
"Why would we do anything but chiffon? 100% yes on the chiffon, obviously. I think red, don't you?" he said, sitting down beside Steve and dumping his tin of colored pencils on the coffee table. Steve grimaced as the yellow and green pencils rolled off onto the floor, but pointed over Fury's arm to indicate a lower neckline and a flutter sleeve.
They'd begun building a fantastic 1942 New York street scene in the open air lot, and Steve was poking around a few days later. Walking by the old cars and storefronts seemed to transport him back in time. It was delightful.
"Clint!" Steve called, as he caught sight of his blonde friend stringing up some cables along a green screen.
He didn't turn, so Steve jogged up to him and tapped his leg where he stood on the third step of a ladder. He grinned as he glanced down, and reached into his ear to turn his hearing aid back on.
"Hey, man, you got the job!" Clint said, giving him a bro shake-hug.
He and Clint met in college, when Clint got the lead in Robin Hood and Steve dressed him.
"Yeah, thank you for telling me about it. It's amazing!"
"Have you met Peggy yet?" Clint asked earnestly. Steve laughed.
"I have and yes, she's a bombshell and a half, just like you said."
Somebody called for Clint to help them hang something, and Steve waved him off. He was about to head back to wardrobe when he saw Bucky walking across the lot toward a red-haired woman. She was wearing dark jeans with sandals and a white tank top. It seemed at odds with Natalia Romanova's 24-hour glam goddess persona. She was shorter than he thought, but no less beautiful.
Bucky touched her arms as he reached her, and they talked closely for a minute, before walking off together, Bucky's hand settling on the small of her back.
Steve's stomach sank, and he cursed himself for it.
There was a big kitchen on the studio lot that Fury had shown Steve when he'd taken him around on a tour on his first day on the job. Steve used it to toast the bagels he brought in for breakfast. It was generally all but abandoned. Posh people in the movie business didn't usually bring their own lunches. More often than not, though, a big blonde guy was there sipping his coffee out of a gigantic mug that looked like a prop from a Viking movie and munching on something or other.
Steve asked to sit with him one day, after they'd exchanged nods and hello's a half dozen times.
"Please do, my friend," he said in a Norse accent, sweeping his hand across the table grandly.
Steve had seen him on set fiddling with the lights, and discovered his name was, charmingly, Thor. He spoke familiarly, and Steve got the impression that he'd considered them friends since the first nod they'd exchanged.
They had breakfast together almost every day after that.
Peggy was just leaving wardrobe the next day when Bucky walked in with two coffees. Steve was still a little dazed from his conversation with her; she was so beautiful and sharp it was dazzling.
"Hey Peg," Bucky said as she passed.
"Is this going to be a regular thing? Because I'll cancel my next delivery of K-cups if it is." Steve said as he took the offered cup. His heart still skipped whenever he saw Bucky, he figured that wasn't going to change anytime soon, but he was having an easier time being himself around him. He thought they might even be friends.
"Well would you look at that?" Bucky said as he sat on the clean sofa. Steve could take it no longer and had spent the entire previous afternoon cleaning and organizing the wardrobe office. "I had no idea this thing was purple."
"Hey, I pulled the chiffon trick with Fury," Steve said conspiratorially. He'd been dying to tell him about it. "I was hoping to save it a while, but I had to play it already. Probably doesn't bode well for me."
Bucky laughed that easy laugh of his that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
"It's not a one-time card. I know Peggy's played it at least three times. I'm pretty sure he's caught on to us by now, but somehow it still works."
"Good to know. I have a feeling I'm going to be getting into trouble with him a lot," Steve said, moving to perch on the opposite armrest.
"You, trouble? Please, you're 100% all-American boy scout," Bucky said, but for some reason Steve knew he didn't really believe it.
So he shot him a fake glare. "I'll have you know, I got into my fair share of trouble as a kid. I had a big mouth and didn't know when to shut it. Still don't," he said.
"Let me guess, defending ladies' honor; sticking up for the little guys?"
Steve wasn't about to tell him he'd been one of the little guys. "Something like that."
"So listen," Bucky said casually, "today's Tuesday. Some of the crew goes out to Johnny's for pancake dinners at six, if you wanna come?"
Steve hesitated. He wanted to, very very much. Which was why he was glad he had a legitimate excuse.
"Ah, I would, but this guy's got a date with Peggy Carter tonight," he said, jabbing his thumbs at himself, trying to laugh about it and sounding incredibly dorky instead.
"Oh?" Bucky said, his grin falling.
"Uh, yeah she asked me to dinner," he said with a self-deprecating smile.
"Well, get it, man," Bucky said, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Hey, I'm looking for Steve," a man said as he strolled in the room without so much as a knock.
Steve stood. "You must be Brock," he said, offering his hand. Fury had outfits lined up for a couple of minor characters, and had tasked Steve with the fittings.
Brock was a big guy who looked like he enjoyed the gym and possibly also tanning beds. He blatantly appraised Steve with a lascivious look as he shook his hand.
Bucky groaned quietly and Steve thought he heard him say, "I can't watch this" under his breath as he stood.
"I'll see you later, Steve. Rumlow." Bucky said, as he left. Steve got the feeling there was no love lost between the two of them.
Turned out Bucky had the right idea about the guy. Steve had to shut him down pretty hard for him to get the point, and practically shoved him out the door.
Steve worked at the studio until it was time to meet Peggy.
Despite having a date with one of the most respected actresses of his generation, Steve was surprisingly calm about it. He felt a connection with Peggy, like they'd known each other for years. He didn't have any illusions about how the night would go. Every date he'd been on in the recent past ended the same; he wound up with a lot of great friends. He was glad for that, but Steve was starting to miss something, he just didn't know he was looking for.