Author's note: A little Halloween special :P

Summary: Bucky doesn't like people, so why does he put up with Nat's ideas?

Bucky is… feeling one of those sad moods right now. He's not sure why, but they come and go and he thinks it's a side effect of the PTSD or something. It's all those conflicting emotions and the killings and just everything. He doesn't even have the effort to put on his prosthetic today.

Sad music has been on repeat from morning till now and he's settling into it. He's feeling comfortable just moping here in his bed, like the world is going to collapse in on him and there's nothing for him out there. He feels no sense of purpose and it's great.

He jumps at the sudden buzzing sound on his side table and ignores it. Except it keeps buzzing… and buzzing. He groans to his ceiling. Why can't people just leave him alone?

He has to roll over onto his left side because the table's on his left and he doesn't have his prosthetic on. He grabs the phone and presses the speaker button.

"This is James," he sighs.

"So he's alive."

He sighs again, this time louder. "What do you want Nat?"

"Why hello to you too James." He can hear the smile in her voice.

"And I repeat: what do you want?"

"Well! It's Halloween." Oh, right. It is. And he totally forgot too. It used to be one of his favorite holidays, and Becca would just go crazy. The thought of how happy his sister would get makes him feel a little sick to his stomach.

"James?"

"Yeah," he coughs and clears his throat. "Sorry, come again?"

"Party. Halloween. Me and Clint. People."

When he doesn't respond Natasha makes an impatient-sounding noise.

"Clint and I are going to a Halloween party tonight. Held on our apartment's rooftop. There will be people from our building there. You in? It's open to the public."

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose and glares at the ceiling. "Nat."

"It's just an invite, nothing harmless."

But he knows what she's doing: she's trying to guilt him into going. Maybe not necessarily guilt, but it's Nat and Bucky can hardly refuse her half the time. Plus, she must have known he was moping around otherwise she wouldn't have called. It's a CIA thing, he swears.

"…I don't have anything to wear though," he replies reluctantly.

"That's okay. I'm sure we'll find something," Nat responds easily with a hint of triumph.

"You sure about that?" Bucky asks, hoping she might decide to back out at the last minute. Natasha knows Bucky can be a pretty difficult person, even pretends to be one so he doesn't have to deal with the bullshit that is life. This usually doesn't stop her though, only makes her more committed.

"James, just come. You know you've already decided," she says.

Yeah, he has, and he still hates her for it.

"Naaaaaaaat," Bucky whines.

She gives him a look of utter death and Bucky actually makes himself physically smaller. This must be what Clint feels like whenever he gets in trouble or does something stupid.

"Do you want my help or not?" She places her hands on her hips and raises a stern eyebrow.

"I do, I do," he says in surrender.

Natasha huffs and turns back to face his closet. "Your wardrobe consists of black, black, and oh, black. With a touch of grey of course. How do you even survive?"

Bucky grunts in response. Shopping isn't his forte. Plus, it's so much easier to just wear all black. He doesn't even have to pair anything up.

"Okay seriously, you've got nothing. I think you should just show up as a Goth person," Natasha decides.

"Are you kidding me?" Bucky gives her a 'get real' look. "There's gonna be, I don't know oh, PEOPLE there. I don't exactly want your neighbors to think I'm a weirdo."

"Well then that's just something you're going to have to live with because your closet is absolute shit and you have no sense of style," she retorts.

"I'm not going as a Goth!"

"Why? It fits your personality perfectly."

"Why did I even agree to this?" He mutters under his breath. Nat responds by throwing a shirt in his face.

"Wear that. It compliments your eyes," she says in a dry voice.

This time it's his turn to glare the look of death at her. "Read my lips: I am not going as a Goth person."

He went as a Goth person.

Like full on too. He's got the black clothes, some black hair spray, even black eye liner smudged around his eyes. It stings and his skin is getting irritated and he really hates Nat. He should have just said he was busy, or maybe if he said he was masturbating she would hang up without a second thought. Then again it's Nat, and hardly anything phases her.

Not to mention he hates parties. Too many.. people. And it gets crowded and sweaty and—people. Overall just people and he hates it and crowds in general.

"This sucks," Bucky mumbles as he glances around him. There are like, what forty people here at least? There are corny Halloween lights and streamers hanging from the rafters, and he's seen at least ten ghosts and witches so far. He's keeping count. It's a game to keep him from losing his sanity.

He really feels like he's going to lose his shit soon.

Nat and Clint are lost somewhere in the people dancing to the Monster Mash. Bucky settled for standing by the snack tables against the wall. This way he has a whole view, and no one can sneak up on him in some ghoulish looking mask. And as long as he stays away from the building's edges, he'll be fine. He's panicking a little, but he'll be fine nevertheless.

"A drink for m'lady?"

Bucky narrows his eyes and is about to say something along the lines of "get away from you creepo" when he almost faceplants into the punch bowl. It's Steve. He's here. In… well what is that?

"What the hell are you wearing?" Bucky asks once he's regained his balance.

Steve puts on a look of mock sadness. "Hey I put a lot of time and effort into this one."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh I'm sure of it."

Steve is wearing some sort of navy-blue body suit with what looks like an eagle on the front. He's not sure where it's from, but Bucky thinks it might be from that show Agents of something. Actually, Steve pulls off the body suit pretty well. It really… shows off all of his muscles properly. Really compliments his body. Bucky decides it's a very nice costume and retracts his last statement.

"I mean it suits you. Very much. And no pun intended." He puts on his best flirty smile, or tries to as it turns out more like he's about to kidnap your children.

Steve beams at the compliment. "Thank you. I like your outfit too." He scans up and down and suddenly Bucky feels very self-conscious. He should have just gone as a pirate.

"Steve!" Natasha walks up to him and embraces him in a friendly hug. "So glad you could make it. And I see James has already found you." She looks over and Bucky gives her a look of betrayal. She blatantly ignores him and continues chatting animatedly with Steve.

"Dude, is that from Agents of Shield?" Clint points to Steve's costume.

Steve's face brightens up and he nods excitedly. "Yeah! I had to go out and actually find a suit, and then I painted the logo on myself."

Clint is clearly impressed and nods his head. "Sweet man. You totally have to make me one now."

Bucky's pretty impressed himself. The fact that Steve put so much time and effort into his costume speaks volumes. Says a lot about his hard-working personality.

He doesn't realize he's staring until Natasha says, "Clint and I should get back now. Our friend Bruce and Maria are waiting for us." She turns to Steve and gives a small wave. "Bye Steve, enjoy yourself!"

They disappear back into the crowd. Bucky keeps glancing over at Steve and exchanging awkward smiles. He has no idea what to say.

"I heard from Natasha you put up quite a fight about the Goth thing," Steve remarks as he gestures to Bucky's outfit.

Bucky groans and makes a face. "Please, we don't talk about that. I don't own anything but black, okay?"

Steve chuckles a little and brings his hand out. Bucky freezes as Steve's fingers rub against his upper cheek and when he pulls his hand back there are traces of black on it.

"You got some—" He motions to Bucky's eyes "—eyeliner." He grins sheepishly.

"Oh," Bucky breathes out. "Thanks."

They exchange another awkward smile and look away. Bucky suddenly feels like he's in high school all over again trying to talk to this one girl who will barely pay him any mind. It's quite mortifying actually.

The mood of the party changes and people aren't moving as energetically anymore. They're moving in slow circles and Bucky realizes: slow-dancing.

"Wanna go?" Steve asks.

Bucky looks over and blinks. "What?"

"Dancing?" Steve quirks up his mouth half-way and Bucky swears he sees a blush in there. "Only if you want to at least."

"I can't dance for shit," Bucky states in a hurried tone. He stuffs his hands into his jeans pockets and looks down. More like doesn't want to dance. It's the human contact thing and being too close to another person and—basically it's Claustrophobia but don't try to tell him otherwise.

"That's okay," Steve responds quietly. "I can't either, so we can both step on each other's feet." He tilts his head and holds out his hand.

Bucky stares at it. Should he take it? He honestly can't dance, but it is Steve. And Steve can't dance either. How bad could it be, right? He decides to place his left hand in Steve's much larger one. They walk out to the middle of the floor and Steve places a hand on the small of Bucky's waist. He jumps at the contact and Steve raises his eyebrow but doesn't say anything. Bucky scowls and places one hand on Steve's shoulder.

They move together in unison, stepping from side to side and moving in half-circles around the floor. They run into Nat and Clint a couple times, and Bucky thinks he sees Bruce and Maria too. The song ends, but the DJ plays another slow song much to Bucky's relief. He has to admit, it's pretty nice. He almost doesn't notice the other people around them. It's just him and Steve, as corny as that sounds.

So Bucky decides to take a chance. He shifts closer until their chests are touching and he leans his head on Steve's shoulder. He feels Steve's breath hitch, but he only repositions them so they're in more comfortable positions. Steve places his hand on Bucky's lower back in order to bring him even closer and tightens his hold around Bucky's waist.

"This is nice," Bucky mumbles against him.

Steve hums in agreement and rests his chin on top of his head. He can feel Steve's thumb rub against his own.

Bucky knows Nat is smirking from a mile away, but he'll thank her later. Just not now.