On Friday afternoon, students gathered in Lee Prep's Performing Arts Center for auditions. Some of them lounged in the seats reading scripts and running lines while others blocked out scenes on stage or recited monologues to the air.
Steve had a seat in the third row. He spotted Bucky coming down the aisle and waved him over. Bucky had his hair tied back and he'd swapped his school blazer for a pullover hoodie printed with the school logo. He dropped his messenger bag and plopped down in the seat next to Steve. "What are we auditioning for?"
"Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead." Steve handed him a stapled handful of photocopied script pages. "It's basically a remix of Hamlet from the POV of two minor characters who can't remember their own names. It's about free will, fate and death."
Bucky flipped to the second page. "'If I asked you straight off—I'm going to stuff you in this box now, would you rather be alive or dead?'" he read. "'Naturally, you'd prefer to be alive. Life in a box is better than no life at all.' Well, that's disturbing."
"It's theater." Steve smiled at Bucky. "Or literature. Well, both. Here, read this part with me," he said, tapping the page. "You be Rosencrantz and I'll be Guildenstern." They read through the scene a few times, switched characters, then read it again. Feeling pretty comfortable with the words, they sat back in their seats and watched the other students. Maria had a clipboard and was handing out scripts to a couple of students who had just drifted in. Peggy and Gabe had located a couple of swords and were choreographing a fight scene on stage. Steve sketched idly on the back of his script pages. "Do you miss your friends back in Moscow?"
Bucky picked at a thread on the cuff of his left sleeve. "We weren't all that close, really. I went to an international school with lots of ex-pats and diplomats' kids and we all got bounced around a lot."
"Where were you before Russia?" Steve asked.
"China, for about six months, and Saudi Arabia before that," Bucky said.
"Wow," Steve said. "I've never even been outside the U.S."
Bucky gave Steve a half-smile. "I've met some interesting people," he said. "I was dating someone in Moscow, but they got sent to Bogotá about a month before I found out we were coming back here."
Steve stopped sketching for a moment, his pen paused over the paper. "Do you keep in touch with her?"
"Um," Bucky said. He scratched behind his ear. "No, we didn't part on the best of terms." He looked as though he was going to add something to that, but then he shook his head and went on. "We weren't serious, anyway. It was mostly about having someone to hang out on weekends and, you know. Do other stuff with."
"Oh," Steve said. He suspected his ears had turned pink, though in the dim lights of the theater, it probably wasn't noticeable. He looked down at his sketch.
Bucky took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And it's him. Not her." He twisted the drawstring of his hoodie around the fingers of his right hand.
"Oh!" Steve said. His ears were definitely pink and probably turning red now. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't've assumed."
"It's okay," Bucky said. "I like girls, too. It just depends on the person." He looked over at Steve. "We're cool, right?" He kept his tone casual but the anxious look he gave Steve betrayed the tension behind the words.
"'Course we are," Steve said. He bumped Bucky's knee with his own and smiled at his friend. "I haven't done anything with anyone," he admitted.
Bucky released the string of his hoodie and leaned back in his seat. "Do you want to?" he asked.
"Yeah," Steve said. "I think so." He looked up at the stage. Peggy blocked a sword blow from Gabe and looked out in the audience to see Steve watching her. She grinned and gave him a little wave, then turned back to Gabe just in time to dodge his attack. Steve smiled and gave her a thumbs up. "With the right person," he said to Bucky.
Bucky slid down in his seat and stuck his feet up on the seat in front of him. "Someone you can be friends with?"
"Yeah," Steve said. "I think that might be the most important part."
"But not someone you're already friends with," Bucky said. "Because that would ruin the friendship."
"Well," Steve began, then stopped and looked at Bucky, who grinned at him. "Shut up," Steve said, poking Bucky with his elbow. He bent his head over the sketch he was working on.
Bucky leaned forward. "What are you drawing?" He pulled the page from Steve's hand. "Whoa," he said softly. "That's me."
The sketch, drawn with a blue ballpoint pen, showed a teenage boy from the chest up. A few strands of hair had fallen loose from his ponytail and the drawstrings of his hoodie hung unevenly, the right dangling an inch or so longer than the left. The boy grinned at something, or someone, just off the page. "It's only a doodle," Steve said, reaching for it. The cheap ink had clotted in a few spots and a smear marred the boy's right shoulder where Steve's thumb had rubbed it.
Bucky scrambled upright and leaned away from Steve. He titled the page to catch the brighter lights from the stage. "You've gotten really good," he said.
Steve shrugged. "Art scholarship," he reminded Bucky. "I spend half my time sketching or painting these days. This isn't a good sample, though. The composition's off and the shading's sloppy." He made a grab for the page again and Bucky held it out of his reach.
"Show me the good stuff, then," Bucky said, making it sound like a challenge. Steve lifted his eyebrows and Bucky amended his statement. "I mean, if you want to."
"Sure, if you want," Steve said. "Maybe you can pose for me sometime so I can do a proper drawing of you."
Bucky grinned. "I'm not posing naked."
Steve's cheeks burned, but he lifted his chin. "I'll drape you in a sheet, then. Very tasteful. Don't even need to see your face." He grabbed the hood of Bucky's sweatshirt and pulled it up to cover the other boy's head. It hung over Bucky's forehead and hid his eyes in shadow. "No," Steve said after a moment. "I like your face." His hand rested on Bucky's shoulder, fingers still curled around the edge of the hood.
"Yours ain't so bad either, Rogers," Bucky said softly. He rested the hand holding the sketch on Steve's knee, paper still in his grip. He flicked his tongue over his lower lip. "Listen, I-" he began, but the house lights abruptly shut off and the stage lights slammed up to full brightness.
"Halt!" a voice boomed from the wings. The students on stage spread out to the edges to make room for the newcomer. Steve let go of Bucky's hood and turned to look at the stage. Bucky slumped back in his seat. He held up the sketch in two fingers and Steve took it from his hand.
A man wearing leather boots, breeches and a doublet emerged from the wings. He carried a round-handled cane which he used to shoo a couple of students out of his way. "'Deaths and disclosures,'" he intoned in a crisp Shakespearean accent, tapping the cane solidly in the center of the stage. "'universal and particular, denouements both unexpected and inexorable.'" The words sounded familiar. Steve tilted his script so he could read the speech using the reflected stage lights. "'We transport you into a world of intrigue and illusion. Clowns, if you like, murderers—we can do you ghosts and battles, on the skirmish level, heroes, villains, tormented lovers—set pieces in the poetic vein.'" He spread his arms wide. "Welcome," he said, "to the Stan Lee Preparatory Academy The-a-ter Guild." He switched to an accent that sounded like he'd stepped off the streets of London. "I am Trevor Slattery, the director, and I am here to whip you lot into a theater company worthy of the great kings of Europe."
"He knows we're American, right?" Bucky whispered to Steve.
"I don't think he even knows we're teenagers," Steve whispered back.
"Gentlemen!" Trevor jabbed the cane towards Steve and Bucky. Both of them froze. "If you are so eager to speak, let you do it upon the stage." Steve looked at Bucky and together they rose, uncertainly, from their seats in the audience. "Yes, hurry up, we haven't got all day," Trevor snapped, and Steve and Bucky hurried onto the stage. "Read the scene from act one. You-" he poked Bucky with the cane. Bucky narrowed his eyes and took a step towards Trevor. Trevor withdrew the cane quickly and rested it on the stage. "You read Rosencrantz," he said, keeping distance between himself and Bucky. "Start with, 'I want to go home.'"
"Okay, he's a little bit nuts," Maria admitted later over coffee at the Excelsior Cafe.
"A little," Steve agreed, tracing an abstract pattern in the condensation on his mocha.
"I think he was high," Bucky said. He grabbed a couple of packets from the sugar dish and passed it on to Howard.
"He was definitely high," Howard agreed. He dumped four packets of sugar in his coffee and swirled it with a spoon.
"Please tell me he didn't try to sell you drugs again," Maria pleaded.
"That only happened once and it was just pot," Howard said. "It wasn't even good pot."
Maria rested her hands on the table and sighed. "He's really a very good director and a great teacher," he told the others. "He's just a bit... eccentric."
"Well, I thought we all did quite well." Peggy was drinking her tea with a bit of milk. She scooted her chair to the side to make room around the table for Gabe to add a seat. On the other side of Gabe, Jim moved his chair as well.
"Those of us who auditioned," Gabe added, looking pointedly at Howard and Jim.
"Someone's got to keep things going behind the scenes," Jim said.
"That's what I tried to tell them," Steve sighed.
Peggy patted his hand. "It wasn't that bad, was it? You and Bucky looked like you were having fun."
"I guess it was okay," Steve admitted grudgingly.
"Speaking of fun - my place, tomorrow, first party of the semester," Howard said. "You're invited, too, new kid, if you think you can handle it," he added to Bucky.
"Oh, I can handle whatever you've got," Bucky said. He leaned back in his seat and wrapped his right hand around his coffee mug. "What've you got - wrestling bears? Teaching cats to braid hair? An Ed Wood movie marathon?"
"Hey, don't go talking shit about Ed Wood," Jim warned. "I will fight you."
"It's just a party," Steve told Bucky.
"Just a party?" Howard gave Steve a look of great betrayal. "No, my friend, it is one of my parties, the thing of which legends are made. Great heroes fight monsters and turn down the girls for a chance to enjoy one event of my hosting. Where there are better girls," he added. Peggy and Maria both shot him dirty looks. "What? That's a compliment!"
Bucky shrugged. "I'll check my schedule," he said airily. "Maybe something'll open up."
"We usually stay all night," Steve told him. "There's no parents, so a lot of people drink, and nobody drives home unless they're one hundred percent sober."
"Nobody wants to leave anyway," Howard said. "There's bedrooms for all. Though if you want to double up with someone, we won't stop you." He winked at Bucky.
"Your mom doesn't mind you coming to these parties?" Bucky asked Steve.
"She's fine with me spending the night at Howard's place," Steve said. "I don't fill her in on the details. Think your uncle will let you go? I can pick you up, if you don't mind riding on the back of the motorcycle."
Bucky hesitated for just a moment, then nodded. "Yeah," he said. "He'll let me go."
"Steve Rogers and James Barnes," Steve told the security guard at the gate, who studied the guest list on his tablet.
"Do we need to show our IDs?" Bucky joked. He wore a leather jacket over his zip-up hoodie and his jeans were tucked into black combat boots. Steve had on a brown leather jacket over a button-down shirt and khakis.
"That won't be necessary, sir," the security guard said. He rotated the tablet on its stand to show them the guest list and tapped Bucky's name. His school ID photo popped up. "You boys have a good time." He tapped an icon on the tablet and the iron gates opened up to let Steve's bike through. Steve parked on the paved grey stone driveway that circled in front of the house. He recognized Peggy's Mini Cooper among the cars that had already arrived. Bucky dismounted the bike.
"Pool's at the north end of the house," Steve said. He pulled off his helmet. "There's a patio there and a lawn in the back where we play Frisbee and baseball. The lounge is above the pool and there's bedrooms on the second and third levels where we'll be crashing tonight."
Bucky pulled off his own helmet and ran his hand through his hair. The four story mansion overlooking the Potomac stood alone on the hill and had high glass windows facing east. It was painted a warm cream color with dark grey trim and could probably house over two hundred people if it were converted to military barracks. "Well, this is an excellent example of the extreme excesses in American capitalism," he said.
"You're American," Steve pointed out, with a fond smile. "And you live in a penthouse." He hadn't seen the inside of Bucky's apartment, but the lobby of the building could put the White House to shame.
Bucky grinned at him. "So I know what I'm talking about. How many people live here?"
"Just Howard, Tony and their guardian," Steve said. "They've got a full crew - you know, butler, maids, gardeners - but everyone except security should be gone for the night and their guardian's out of town."
"See," Bucky said. He pulled his hair into a ponytail at the back of his neck and secured it with a hair tie. "Excessive."
"And you haven't even seen the garage."
"Holy mother of god," Bucky breathed. He ran his right hand over the hood of a 1966 Porsche 911S. Steve grinned. He'd seen the Stark car collection before but it never failed to impress. The garage on the mansion's lowest level ran the full length of the house.
"Do not scratch it," Howard warned. He wore red pinstripe suspenders with slacks and a tie. Steve noticed that the dark shadow on his upper lip was finally starting to look like a mustache. Bucky moved to the next car, an Audi R8, and ran his hand over the hood of that one as well. "Do you have to touch every single one?" Howard complained.
"What, are you kidding me?" Bucky asked. "Of course I have to touch them. Is that a Shelby Cobra?" he asked, his attention drawn to the next one, a retro blue sports car with a white streak down the center.
"It is indeed," Howard said. "1967 427. This baby can go from zero to 100 and back to zero in thirteen seconds."
"Why would you ever want to go back to zero?" Bucky asked breathlessly. "Let me drive it."
"Not a chance in hell," Howard said. He swatted Bucky's hand away from the hood.
"I thought you didn't have a license," Steve said. He hooked his thumbs on his belt buckle and settled into a wide stance. Watching Bucky discover the cars was a better show than the cars themselves.
"That's just a technicality. I'm a really good driver," Bucky said. "Please?"
"No," Howard said. "But if you're nice, I might take you for a ride."
"How nice do I need to be?" Bucky gave Howard a suggestive grin.
"Very," Howard said, waggling his eyebrows. Then his expression changed abruptly to irritation. "What the hell is that?" he demanded.
"I think it's a Maserati GranTurismo," Bucky said, voice thick with car lust. He walked over and stroked the hood lovingly.
"Tony!" Howard yelled. "Tony, get your ass in here!"
A couple of moments later, Howard's little brother came into the garage. "Howard," Tony said. "What have we said about using our inside voices?"
Howard strode over to a contraption on the far side of the Maserati. "What the hell is that?" he asked, jabbing a finger at it. It looked like a large, mechanical, jointed arm built onto a cylindrical base.
"Dummy," Tony said. He walked over to the device and flipped on a switch.
"What," Howard said.
"D-U-M-dash-E," Tony said. He whistled. The device's pincer hand rotated ninety degrees and chirped. "I built it," he said proudly. "It's got a very sophisticated A.I. Dum-E, say hi to your Uncle Howard." The robot chirped again. It lowered its arm to waist height and extended it to Howard, as though offering a handshake.
"Have you been welding next to my car?" Howard asked furiously, ignoring the robot.
"I put a cover over it!" Tony protested. Dum-E chirped sadly and pulled its hand back.
"What if you'd burned through it? What if you'd knocked something onto it?" Howard asked.
"Uh, I didn't," Tony pointed out. "The car is fine and by the way, it's not your car, it's ours."
"No, this one's mine," Howard said. "You're not even old enough to drive."
"So?" Tony asked.
"So don't go near my car!" Howard yelled.
Bucky came up beside Steve. "Is this normal?" he murmured in Steve's ear. His breath was warm against Steve's skin.
"For them, yeah," Steve told Bucky in a low voice. He shrugged. "I guess it's a brother thing." Bucky nodded knowingly, though both he and Steve were only children.
Tony held out both hands and pressed them against the hood of the Maserati.
"Stop it! You're getting fingerprints all over it!" Howard complained. Tony leaned down and licked the windshield. "I'm going to strangle you." Howard moved towards Tony, but Steve strode over and put a hand on Howard's arm.
"He's not hurting it," Steve said. In fact, Tony was now polishing the windshield with the sleeve of his shirt and muttering something to the car that sounded like an apology. "Come on, Bucky still hasn't seen the pool."
"Leave it alone," Howard yelled back at Tony as Steve pulled him out of the garage.
Dum-E chirped sadly again as the walked away, its hand drooping. Bucky patted it lightly with his left hand as he left. Dum-E perked up and gave him a cheerful chirp goodbye.
At the pool, a group of kids had gathered by the lounge chairs, some lounging, some sitting, and some standing with drinks in their hands. A boy in a bowler hat stood behind a freestanding wet bar, mixing a drink. "My God, Dum Dum, what is that thing on your face?" Steve asked.
Dum Dum stroked his walrus mustache. "Don't be jealous, Steve, that peach fuzz on your cheeks is perfectly normal in a boy your age. Who's the new kid?"
"I'm Bucky," Bucky said, a bit wearily. Steve wondered if he was getting tired of being called "new kid".
"What kind of a name is 'Bucky'?" Dum Dum asked.
"Glass houses, Dum Dum, glass houses," Howard said. He spotted a blonde girl in a bikini dangling her feet in the deep end of the pool. "Ah, Christine's here. I'll catch you fellows later." He patted Steve on the back and walked over to the girl.
"What're you drinking?" Dum Dum asked Steve and Bucky.
"What've you got?" Bucky asked.
Dum Dum swept his hands over the bottles on the bar. "Mixers of all kinds, a fine selection of craft beers and a lovely 21-year-old single malt scotch."
"I'll try the scotch," Bucky said.
"New kid's got taste," Dum Dum filled a glass and handed it to Bucky. "How about you, Steve?"
"Coke, please," Steve said.
"Want some rum in that?" Dum Dum asked.
"I'm allergic to alcohol," Steve reminded him.
"Shame." Dum Dum popped the cap off a glass bottle of soda and handed it to Steve. "You play poker?" he asked Bucky. "We're starting up a game of Texas Hold 'Em."
"Oh, yeah, I got a poker app for my phone a few weeks ago," Bucky said brightly. "I've racked up a lot of high scores."
In fourth grade, Bucky ran a gambling ring which netted him a Nintendo DS and got five kids suspended. Steve kept a straight face. "They play for real money, Buck," he warned, playing along.
"Oh, man." Bucky looked worried. "I don't have anything smaller than a hundred with me."
"We can make change," Dum Dum said. He clapped Bucky on the shoulder. "How about you, Steve?" he asked.
"Nah, not tonight. Go easy on him, it's his first week," Steve said.
"Of course!" Dum Dum's smile should've come with fins and pointed teeth. Bucky's could've been on the face of an angel.
A Frisbee spun towards them and Steve snatched it out of the air before it smacked Bucky in the head. He heard Jim yell, "Think fast!"
"You're supposed to say that first!" Steve yelled back. "I'm going to join the Frisbee game," he said to Bucky. "Try not to lose too much cash."
Bucky was up seventy bucks by the time Dum Dum realized he'd been hustled. Bluffing his way to the pot with a pair of fives could be excused as beginner's luck but when Bucky took his sixth pot in a row with nothing but a two of diamonds and a four of spades, Dum Dum leaned back in his chair, pushed up the brim of his hat and sighed. "You've played this game before," he said.
Bucky tucked the cash in his wallet. "A few times," he admitted with a grin.
Gabe tossed down his cards and laughed. "Your face, man," he said to Dum Dum. "Almost worth losing the cash to see the new kid whip your ass."
"They're new, too," Bucky said, pointing to the other two players at the table. Jacques and Monty were international students from France and the U.K., respectively.
"Can't call you all 'new kid'; that'd just get confusing," Gabe said reasonably. "Any other skills you're keeping secret, new kid?"
"It's no fun if I tell you everything," Bucky said. He swept up all the cards on the table and shuffled them. "Another round?"
"Only if you're talking drinks," Dum Dum said. "Refill?" Bucky handed Dum Dum his empty glass. He was on his third round, now, and feeling nicely toasty.
"What next?" Monty asked.
"I've always wanted to learn darts," Bucky suggested, with wide-eyed innocence. Howard strode over to the table, the stub of a cigar in the side of his mouth. He clapped Bucky on the shoulder. Bucky tensed up at the sudden touch.
"Come on up to the lounge, boys, we're starting up a game of Never Have I Ever," Howard said.
A red-haired girl wandered over to the table. Her name was Natasha, Bucky remembered. She was in his Russian class. "Ooh, poker," she said. "That looks like fun."
"Join us, if you like," Dum Dum said gallantly.
"All right," she said. "I could use the practice. I haven't played since I was a kid." Bucky got out of the seat and offered her the deck of cards with a wink. She smiled sweetly and thanked him.
Gabe looked at Bucky, then at Natasha. "I'll join you guys upstairs," he said, standing up and picking up his drink. "I think my luck's run out down here."
The lounge had hardwood floors and was furnished with a long, L-shaped, cream-colored couch and several matching chairs arranged around a low coffee table. Bucky and Steve sat at the short end of the L and Maria, Christine and Jim sat on the long side. Gabe and Peggy sat in the chairs.
"The rules are simple," Howard said. He swirled his drink and sat down in a leather chair at one end of the table as though he were settling into his throne. "You make a statement about something you've never done. Anyone in the room who has done that thing must take a drink. Be honest. If you lie, you're only cheating yourselves."
"And us," Jim said.
"And us," Howard said.
"Mostly us," Jim added.
"But all this is off the record," Maria said, turning to Christine, whose last name, Bucky had found out, was Everhart. She was an editor on the school paper.
"I don't publish private conversations," Christine said defensively.
Maria lifted her glass. "Never have I ever written editorials containing veiled references to a friend's personal confessions."
"Nobody knew it was you," Christine grumbled, but she took a drink.
Peggy was next. "Never have I ever shoplifted," she said. About two-thirds of the room took a drink, including Bucky. They went around the room. Never have I ever smoked a cigarette. Never have I ever seen an episode of Friends. Never have I ever left the country. Never have I ever been to a Twilight movie marathon. ("Seriously?" Howard asked, when Jim took a drink. "It was for a girl," Jim said. "Totally worth it.")
"Never have I ever gotten a tattoo," Gabe said. To everyone's surprise, Maria took a drink.
"Hang on, I've seen you in a bathing suit," Howard said. "Is it new?"
"Nope," Maria smiled.
"Let's see it," Howard said.
"Not a chance."
When Bucky's turn came around, he gave Steve a sly glance and said, "Never have I ever punched an umpire."
"Oh, come on!" Steve protested. "I was nine."
"Tell us the story," Peggy urged Bucky.
"I want to hear this," Gabe agreed. Several others around the room nodded.
"Little League," Bucky said. "It was this girl's first game; tiny little thing, but man, could she throw. I don't remember what she did -"
"Threw an inside pitch and hit a guy in the balls," Steve remembered.
"Oh, yeah," Bucky snickered.
"Ninth inning, score was tied, everyone was yelling instructions at her, she got flustered and lost control of the ball," Steve said in defense of this girl. "The umpire thought she'd done it on purpose."
"Yeah, so the umpire strides over to the mound and starts chewing her out. She's crying, tears running down her face and the guy's towering over her, red-faced and screaming," Bucky told the room. "Steve was on deck and he dropped his bat, ran over to the mound and took a swing at the umpire. The guy was twice his size!"
"It got him to stop," Steve said.
"Because you hit him in the kidneys," Bucky said.
"My aim could've been better," Steve admitted.
"He had to sit out the next five games," Bucky told them.
"Worth it, though," Steve said. He took a long drink of his coke.
When the game circled around to Christine, she said, "Never have I ever kissed a girl." Steve tapped a finger against his soda bottle and studiously examined his knees.
"Still?" Howard said, looking at Steve in disbelief. "All right, this situation needs to be remedied. Peggy, can you take one for the team?"
"Oh, no," Steve said, eyes wide and cheeks flaming. "Howard, leave her alone."
Peggy's cheeks were pink, but she said, "I'm willing if Steve is."
Steve's mouth opened, but no words came out. Peggy stood up, adjusted her skirt and walked over to the couch in front of Steve and Bucky. She held out her hand and drew Steve to his feet. "Hi," Steve said softly.
"Hi," Peggy smiled. They gazed at each other for a long moment but didn't move any closer. Bucky rolled his eyes. No wonder Steve had never kissed anyone. He reached up, put his hand on Steve's back and shoved him forward. Steve stumbled against Peggy and grabbed her waist to keep himself from falling over.
"Uh. Sorry," Steve said. Peggy put her hand on his cheek and brought her lips up to his. Cheers went up from the room. Bucky slouched back on the couch and tried not to think about the twist in his stomach at the sight of Peggy kissing Steve. Steve was happy; that's what was important.
It was a brief kiss, barely more than a touch of lips before Peggy and Steve pulled apart, both red as tomatoes and trying not to look at anyone else in the room. Steve let go of her waist and they both went back to their seats.
"Lipstick," Bucky told Steve, tapping his own lips. Steve quickly swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, leaving a smear of bright red lipstick on his skin.
"Well," Howard sighed. "It's a start."
When Bucky's turn came around again, he said, "Never have I ever kissed anyone in this room," just to see Steve's cheeks flame up again.
Howard took a drink. "That could be remedied, you know," he said.
Bucky was drunk enough to say, "Are you offering?" Steve nearly choked on his soda. Bucky expected Howard to brush it off, but the other boy looked him up and down, then beckoned him over with a finger. Howard set his drink down on the coffee table and stood up. Bucky pushed his drink into Steve's hand and strode over to meet Howard. They were very nearly the same hight.
Howard slid his fingers into Bucky's hair and leaned into him. Howard's tongue brushed Bucky's bottom lip and Bucky opened his mouth to let Howard in. Howard's mouth was hot and wet and tasted of scotch and cigars. Bucky dropped his hands to Howard's waist and pulled him forward until they pressed against each other, hip-to-hip. Bucky twisted his hips just slightly so that his right thigh was between Howard's legs.
Howard pulled out of the kiss and exhaled, a faint groan at the back of his throat.
"Was that nice enough for me to get a ride?" Bucky asked.
"Come on upstairs later and find out," Howard said.
"Never have I ever driven a Maserati," Jim called out.
"Not a chance," Howard said, to laughter and cheers. He drew away from Bucky and took his seat. Bucky rubbed his thumb over his lower lip and gave Howard a smile. Well, that was one way to come out. He returned to his seat next to Steve. "Now that was a kiss," Howard said, picking up his drink and holding it up towards Bucky. Bucky took his drink back from Steve and lifted it up in a matching salute. "You could learn from this guy," Howard told Steve.
Whose eyes were wide and whose mouth was hanging open. "Close your mouth, you'll let in flies," Bucky said.
"I just didn't-" Steve cleared his throat. "I didn't think you and Howard-"
"It doesn't mean anything," Bucky said. "It's just a kiss." He downed the rest of his scotch.
"Just a kiss?" Steve asked. "What do you do if you really like someone?"
Apparently, he'd push them towards the girl they're actually attracted to. Bucky shrugged. "Depends on the person." He put his empty glass down on the coffee table with slightly more force than necessary.
A little freshman girl with strawberry blonde hair poked her head into the room. "Um, Howard, I think you should know that Tony's doing something that's probably going to-"An explosion from a far wing of the house shook the floor and walls. The girl pointed her finger roughly towards the noise. "That," she said with a sigh.
"That's my lab!" Howard said, outraged. "Tony, you little shit!" He ran out of the room with the girl tagging behind him.
The game broke up after that. A delivery of pizza and hot wings arrived and they went downstairs to hang out poolside and get some food. Bucky and Steve picked up another round of drinks (scotch for Bucky, soda for Steve) and joined Peggy and Gabe at a table. The freshmen kids showed up after a bit, herded by Howard. They pounced on the hot wings. Tony looked slightly scorched and very irritated.
Howard joined Bucky's table, plopping down between Bucky and Gabe. "That kid, I swear to God."
"Go easy on him," Peggy said. "He looks up to you."
Howard snorted. "He does not. He's determined to piss me off. I was working on a major project and he screwed it up. He's set me back by weeks. He's got his own lab; why can't he use that?"
Gabe patted Howard on the shoulder. "There, there," he said.
Once the pizza and wings had been stripped down to bones and leftover crust, Howard proposed they go down to the game room for a round of pool.
"Peggy'll wipe the floor with you," Steve told Howard. "Again."
"She got lucky," Howard said.
"Three times?" Gabe asked. He leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows at Howard.
Peggy gave Howard a sweet smile. "Perhaps we could put a small wager on it. The loser has to wear an outfit of the winner's choosing on the next Casual Day at school."
Howard ran a finger around the top of his glass and grinned at Peggy. "You want to see me in a skirt and heels, you just have to ask."
"Oh, no," Peggy said. "I want to see you walk in a skirt and heels. All day."
"Are you allowed to wear something like that at school?" Bucky asked.
"If it's allowed for the girls, it has to be allowed for the boys," Peggy said. "It was added to the charter a few years back."
Howard lifted his glass and raised it to Peggy. "You're on."
The wood-paneled game room had a pool table, a dart board, a pinball machine and a foosball table. Several overstuffed brown leather chairs were arranged along the wall near the pool table. A couple of ashtrays rested on the side tables between the chairs and the air still reeked of leftover cigar smoke. Steve began coughing. Howard switched on a fan, but Steve shook his head. "I think I'd better sit this one out," he managed between coughs.
Bucky glanced at Howard, then back to Steve. "I'll go with you," he said. "I'm no good at pool anyway." Gabe snorted and Bucky grinned at him. "You can teach me another time."
Outside, Steve took a long breath of cool night air. "Do you need your inhaler?" Bucky asked. They walked along a stone path that curved around the lawn.
Steve shook his head. "Just fresh air." He gave Bucky a wry smile. "Can't drink or smoke, just another evening with no-fun Steve."
"Don't be an idiot," Bucky said. "You're plenty of fun without that stuff." He stumbled. Steve caught his arm.
Steve smiled. "I suppose I can walk, at least."
"I just tripped on a stone," Bucky grumbled, but when they reached one of the park benches along the path, he decided to sit down for a few minutes. A lamp post next to the bench gave them plenty of light to see each other. "Maybe I should teach you how to kiss," Bucky said. The alcohol weighed down his words, so he had to shape them carefully.
Steve blushed. "I know how to kiss," he said.
"What, that chicken peck you gave Peggy tonight?" Bucky brushed that away with a wave of his hand. "Grandmothers kiss babies with more passion."
"What was I supposed to do with everyone watching us?" Steve demanded. "I'm not like you."
"Like me?" Bucky raised his eyebrows.
"You always had girls throwing themselves at you," Steve said.
"That's not even close to the truth!" Bucky protested.
"How many girlfriends did you have in fifth grade?" Steve asked. "Let's see, there was Katie, Vivian, Luna," he checked them off on his fingers. "Natalie, Amanda, Kelly..."
"We were ten. We'd 'date' for a couple of weeks and maybe hold hands after school," Bucky said. "Nobody's ever 'thrown' themselves at me, Steve."
"You've been here a week and you've already," Steve waved his hand vaguely, "with Howard."
"I just kissed him," Bucky said testily. "Jesus, Steve, it was a party game, not a night in Vegas."
"I'm not saying that, Bucky. I'm actually a little jealous," Steve said.
Bucky's eyebrows shot up again. "Jealous?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster.
"You can flirt and date around and kiss people without hardly thinking about it," Steve said.
Bucky looked out over the lawn. "I do think about it, Steve, I just don't let that stop me."
"I wish I had your confidence," Steve sighed. "If I ask Peggy out, I'll probably make a complete mess of things."
Bucky leaned back and rested his left arm on the back of the bench, behind Steve's shoulders. "You probably will," he agreed. "I've never met someone so awkward about girls."
Steve snorted. "Thanks."
"You should do it anyway," Bucky said. He kicked Steve's ankle lightly. "She's into you. You'll go up to her and start blushing and saying idiotic stuff and she'll say yes anyway. She's a smart girl, Steve; she knows a good thing when she sees it."
"Yeah?" Steve smiled.
"Yeah," Bucky said. "You're the best guy on the market."
"You make me sound like a piece of meat," Steve said.
"Grade A U.S. prime beefsteak," Bucky poked him in the center of his chest with the index finger of his right hand.
"Hey!" Steve grabbed his hand and wrapped his fingers around Bucky's. The warmth of his skin was welcome in the cool air.
"You still need to learn how to kiss," Bucky told him.
"Okay," Steve said, lifting his chin to meet the challenged. "Teach me."
Bucky brushed his thumb over Steve's knuckles, then pulled his hand free. "Start with a touch," he said, resting his right palm against Steve's cheek. "A physical connection. Make eye contact." His eyes met Steve's. "Right now, it's just you and them, no matter if you're in front of a crowd or all alone." Steve matched Bucky's gaze. He curled the fingers of his right hand at the back of Bucky's neck. "Good, like that," Bucky said. "Give them room. If they look somewhere else or try to pull away, they're not interested." Steve didn't look away. "Get close," Bucky said, leaning forward. "But let them meet you halfway." Steve shifted closer until Bucky could feel Steve's warm breath against his lips. He smelled faintly of pizza. "If you've gotten this far, they're probably into it, but if you're not sure, it's okay to ask." Bucky brushed his thumb lightly against Steve's lower lip. "Can I?" he asked softly.
"Yeah," Steve said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat. "Yeah."
"Tilt your head." Bucky cocked his head to the right and Steve mirrored him. "No, the opposite way I do, so we don't bump noses." Bucky tilted his head to the other side at the same time Steve did the same.
Steve winced and laughed and shook his head. "Sorry, I'm ruining it, aren't I?"
Bucky grinned. "It's okay. You don't lose points for bumping noses or laughing."
"Okay." Steve dropped his hands to his thighs and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, then brought his right hand up to rest against Bucky's collarbone. He leaned in again. "What's next?"
"Lick your lips," Bucky said. He ran his tongue over his lips and Steve did the same. "Lips are key here," he said. "You want them parted, but not gaping, not too wet, not too dry, not too relaxed, not too rigid." He moistened his lips again and kissed Steve. Their lips brushed together and Bucky sucked lightly on Steve's lower lip. He flicked his tongue between Steve's lips without thinking, then pulled back abruptly, his heart pounding. "You've got it, Goldilocks," he said, roughly.
Steve nodded. His hand was still resting against Bucky's neck. "Thanks, Teach," he said. His eyes lingered on Bucky's face.
Bucky thought to hell with it and said, "Here's the next lesson." He kissed Steve again. Bucky drew his tongue across Steve's lower lip and Steve opened his mouth. When Steve's tongue met Bucky's, he felt his chest tighten. He wrapped his left arm around Steve's waist and slid his right hand back until his fingers slipped into Steve's short blond hair. The movement brought their chests together and Bucky could feel Steve's heart pounding against his own. Steve brought his hand up and cupped Bucky's cheek just below his ear. Bucky's heart rate increased and he felt his body react to the kiss. God, he'd wanted this. He made a soft noise, a light hmmm of pleasure. Steve drew back and their lips parted.
"You're drunk," Steve reminded him, and Bucky wondered if he was imagining the regret in his voice. Regret for kissing or regret for stopping?
"Only a little," Bucky said. His voice slurred slightly on the last word. His heart still pounded from the kiss.
Steve touched his forehead to Bucky's. "You passed 'a little' a ways back," he said, with a soft smile. "C'mon, I'll get you up to bed."
Bucky had left his bag in one of the upstairs bedrooms and Steve led him there now. Bucky was sober enough to take off his shoes, at least, and he changed into his sweatpants while Steve went to find him a bottle of water. Steve returned a few minutes laster with two bottles of water and a bottle of aspirin. He put one of the waters on the nightstand and handed the other one to Bucky. He watched closely as Bucky took a long drink. Bucky sighed and screwed the cap back on the bottle. "Steve, I'm fine," he said, carefully keeping his words from slurring. "I'll sleep it off. Go enjoy the rest of the party."
Steve shrugged. "It's winding down anyway. I'm going to be just across the hall if you need me."
"All right," Bucky said. He dropped back and let his head hit the pillow.
"Do you want to get under the covers?"
"Steve. Seriously."
Steve lifted his hands. "Okay. Good night, Bucky."
"Night, Steve."
Bucky did decide to slide under the covers once Steve had left. The AC was on and the room was a bit chilly.
Bucky's phone alarm buzzed against his leg a couple of hours later. He reached into the pocket of his sweatpants and turned it off. He groaned and rolled over. He'd definitely gotten too drunk. His instructions were to drink a small amount to blend in with the others, but fuck that, these were his friends and he was damned well going to enjoy the party.
His eyes snapped open. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He'd kissed Steve. He pressed his face into the pillow. Really kissed him. Nothing says 'awkward' like making a move on your probably straight best friend. Way to make a complete mess of things.
He groaned and threw the covers off of himself. He swallowed two aspirin and downed the rest of the water bottle, then went into the bathroom to pee. He came back out, stumbling a bit as he walked. He shook his head sharply to clear it. At least this wasn't a job that required precision. He just had to put the tech in place. Being a little drunk could actually help if he ran into anyone, since he could always claim he'd gotten lost. But the sounds of the party were gone and the lights outside the window had been dimmed. By this time of night, everyone should have found a bed and would either be sleeping it off or keeping themselves busy.
Bucky rubbed his eyes and shook his head again, then got the pouch from his bag and slipped it into his pocket. The sooner this was done, the sooner he could go back to sleep.
Maybe Steve wouldn't even remember the kiss in the morning. Yeah. Completely sober Steve with nearly photo-perfect recollection. Fuck.