James Buchanan Barnes had the fashion sense of a fifteen year old middle class white boy. Meaning, he could probably go like, four days, wearing the same pair of jeans with the occasional change of his t-shirt. That, however, would not fly on his coffee date.

Bucky, standing in the t-shirt he slept in and a pair of boxers, glanced at the clock in his cramped bedroom; Steve would be picking him up in an hour or so, and the brunet was tearing his hair out over what to wear. Most of his jeans had oil stains on them, and the few pairs that didn't, were ripped. Would Steve care if they were ripped or not? Probably not, but every minor problem seemed to be catastrophic to him. Bucky was really hoping all went well on this date, enough so that they could possibly go on another one. Okay, Bucky hoped that they could start dating if this date was successful enough.

He continued to glare daggers at his array of jeans spread out over his bed. He grabbed a pair that was not stained and not really that ripped (only at the knees!), and pulled them up over his boxers. Bucky then threw off his t-shirt and narrowed his eyes at the closet.

Bucky only owned about 2 nice shirts; they were both dress shirts. He didn't want to wear one of those, but he also didn't want to go in just a plain t-shirt. He did, however, own quite a selection of flannel shirts. So Bucky tugged on a (clean, oil stain free) grey t-shirt and a red and black flannel. He looked himself over in the bathroom mirror and gave himself the okay. Bucky tied his hair back in a bun, leaving his bangs to fall in his face.

The brunet left the bathroom and stared at the clock in his tiny kitchen; Steve would be here any minute. He looked to the island in the kitchen to make sure the book he got the blond was there. It was. It was another World War Two era novel, and he hoped that Steve would like it (Bucky was 99 percent certain that he would). Bucky smiled to himself and thought that today would go great.

Then there was a knock at his door.

And his stomach dropped.

"B-be there in a minute!" Dammit, he stuttered. Bucky took a deep breath and grabbed the book off the island. He made his way to the door and took a second to prep himself before opening it. Bucky swung the door open and his eyebrows shot up.

Steve was standing on the other side of the doorway, a bouquet of lavender roses in his hand. The blond was sporting a dark blue leather jacket (that should've been illegal it fit him so damn nice), a dark grey t-shirt, and a pair of light wash jeans. He ran his free hand through his blond locks, and Bucky saw that he was starting to go red in the face.

"I got these for you," Steve mumbled under his breath, holding the bouquet out to Bucky. The brunet smiled and bit his lip, holding up the book he got for Steve. The blond's face lit up in surprise.

"I'll trade ya."

The two of them exchanged their gifts, and Bucky narrowed his eyes at the bouquet in his hands. "I'm not sure if I even have a vase to put these in."

"Well," Steve started, doing that half smile of his. "Maybe you should get one, because I guarantee that there will be more where that came from."

The gears in Bucky's head turned as he processed what the blond had just said. He felt the heat rise in his face as he turned to gently place the bouquet on the counter behind him.

"Just take me out to this coffee shop already before my head explodes, Rogers," Bucky mumbled as he moved past Steve into the hallway, closing the door behind him. The blond's laugh echoed down the hallway, making Bucky's stomach flutter. He really was completely unprepared for Steven Grant Rogers' uncanny adorableness.

The two of them made their way down a few flights of stairs and out to Steve's car. Bucky looked up and down the street, trying to guess which car was Steve's. It was probably the grey station wagon to their right, because that's the type of car he would peg Steve to have. But he didn't want to just walk right up to it if he was wrong.

"Which one's yours?" he asked Steve nonchalantly.

Steve was trying to suppress his grin, but it wasn't really working, so he sort of looked like an idiot. A cute idiot. "This one."

He had walked right up to a 1960 red Thunderbird and tapped the side of the car. Bucky looked at the blond in utter astonishment. The car was in great condition. It looked as if it were brand new (Steve must've paid a fortune to have it restored). Bucky walked up to it, almost like he was in a trance, and ran his hand along the roof of the car. Steve was looking at him with that look of his, almost like he was a kid looking into a candy shop and grinning from ear to ear.

"You're lying to me. This can't be your car," Bucky said after a moment.

Steve held up his keys. "Oh, but it is."

Bucky shook his head and smiled. The damn bastard was using the car to impress him. And hell, was it working.

"How come I've never seen you drive this thing, like, ever?" Bucky asked. "This car is gorgeous."

Steve shrugged a shoulder. "I don't like driving it to the school because you know how the seniors drive; like idiots. So, I only really like to drive around in this when I'm off, or for special occasions."

Steve Rogers was killing Bucky with his obviousness. I can't believe this is the man I want to date, he's so ridiculously beautiful and has great taste in cars, Bucky thought as he told Steve to just "take him out on this date already".


Steve was having the time of his life on this coffee date.

And all he had to do was lose a bet.

Steve and Bucky picked a little booth in the corner of the little coffee shop. The shop itself was quiet, and that's why Steve picked it. Not only was it a nice shop, it also wasn't constantly over crowded like the Starbucks around the corner from the school. People came and went, some college kids set up their laptops and ordered several espresso drinks. Steve loved it. And he knew Bucky would love it too.

So, the two of them ordered drinks (which Steve paid for, since it was part of the bet. Bucky nearly forgot and almost insisted that he paid) and sat down in the little booth. Bucky had his mug encircled by his hands, staring down into it with a soft smile. Steve couldn't help but continue to just admire him; Bucky's dark hair was pulled back into a loose knot at the back of his head, his bangs hanging loosely and framing his face. He had stubble on his cheeks, like he hadn't shaved in a few days, but Steve was into it—really into it. Bucky was wearing a simple flannel over a t-shirt, both of which were a little tight around his well-muscled shoulders that made Steve bite his lower lip. Steve's eyes traveled higher to Bucky's lips and thought just how kissable they looked, and how it was such a shame that he wasn't kissing them right now. His eyes traveled higher to find that Bucky's ice blue eyes were looking directly into his; he had been caught staring.

Steve shook his head to clear his mind. Don't get caught up, this is only the first date. "Sorry, I—you're just…y-you look really good is all."

Smooth, Rogers. Steve wanted to bash his head into a wall.

Bucky smiled and tried to hide it behind his hand. It didn't work very well. Steve could hear him chuckling.

"You know Natasha, right? Teaches AP psychology?" Bucky started. Steve didn't know what this had to do with anything, but he nodded. He knew vaguely of the scary-looking, Russian redhead that terrorized the psych students. Tony had said she was a real piece of work.

Bucky continued. "She told me you were talking about me to Stark the other day. I didn't ask her to give me updates on you, trust me, but she told me you wouldn't shut up about your dilemma with our bet."

"Well, I mean—" Steve didn't really know what to say. He never knew how obvious he was when it came to this sort of stuff. Steve felt his face flush. "I was just nervous because I thought maybe my side of the bet was too much. You had only suggested coffee, and suggesting a dinner date seemed really pushy and out of bounds of the bet—"

Bucky interrupted him. "You know, Steve, bet or no bet…I would've loved to have taken you out anyways." He paused for a moment and played with a strand of his bangs. "You really don't know how long I've been dying to ask you out. Like, all those books I bought for you? Just excuses to come talk to you. The only way I felt I could ask you out was a wager. I know how much you love competitions and bets, so I took the opportunity."

Steve went to twist the ring he usually wore on his finger (a nervous habit of his) but it wasn't there. He remembered he had left it in his back with his gear for practice in his other car. He played with his hands instead before replying. "I've liked you for a really long time too, Buck. Trust me, there were so many times that I thought of asking you out, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to start dating again."

Steve realized he had said a bit too much, and he really hoped the brunet sitting across from him wouldn't prod too deep, or at all for that matter. Bucky looked him dead in the eyes, his brow scrunched up. Bucky must've read the situation (either that, or he saw Steve's shoulders tense up, his hands curl into tight fists) and chose to let it go.

"I don't want to rush into anything," Bucky said at last. It made Steve relax a little. The blond reached for his hand across the table, rested it on Bucky's, as if to tell him thanks.

The two of them sat in the coffee shop for a while, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Steve learned that Bucky had been working on cars ever since high school, and how much he loved taking things apart just to put them back together again. They talked about Steve's car, what they were both like in high school, and what their parents were like. It felt like Steve had known Bucky his whole life, when they had only met a few years ago, when Bucky landed a teaching job at Marvelle Academy.

It wasn't until around dinner time that Bucky said he should get back to his apartment, for he had projects to grade. At this, Steve remembered the stacks of tests and papers he had to grade, and he agreed that it would be best to get home. The pair left the coffee shop and into Steve's Thunderbird.

Steve parked in front of Bucky's apartment complex and looked at the brunet in the passenger's seat. Steve was staring at his eyes, his lips, and then back to his eyes again. His heart was pounding. Before Bucky could get his hand on the door to get out, Steve leaned over, kissing Bucky lightly on the cheek. Then he realized what he did.

Steve's face most likely turned an ungodly shade of red, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He apologized, saying he didn't know why he did that, and Bucky just laughed. The brunet then leaned over and kissed Steve on the cheek back. Steve's brain broke.

"I'll see you Monday, Cap."

Steve couldn't wait until Monday.


The weekend seemed to drag by for Steve. It felt like he hadn't seen Bucky in ages. In reality, it had only been 56 hours and four minutes, but who was counting, right?

Steve currently had his ninth period AP United States history class doing book work. It was one of the few times of the year he assigned anything out of the ancient textbook—seriously, the things were nearly 20 years old. Did the school not have the funds to replace these things? It was ridiculous—and his classroom was nice and quiet. Quiet enough so that Steve could read one of the novels Bucky had given him.

Since their date on Friday afternoon, Steve had found the energy to tear through grading most of the document based question essays he had given his two sets of AP US kids, and had started grading the ones from his AP European history classes. He barely slept Friday night, as he was on such an adrenaline rush. Steve had finally gone out on a date with someone for the first time since Peggy, and it felt good. He smiled to himself as he read The Book Thief.

The bell for dismissal rang, and Steve bid his class a good afternoon. He stuck a post-it note on the page he was on, and corralled his papers into a few different folders. He picked up his duffel bag and headed in the direction of the gymnasium. Steve hummed under his breath and walked lightly through the hallways, shoulders squared, with a stupid smile on his face. He stopped in front of Bucky's classroom; there was loud music playing from a speaker on his desk, and the brunet was hunched over his gradebook and little trinket looking things. Steve decided that maybe he would stop by after practice. Bucky looked busy.

Steve had changed into his cargo shorts, a red polo, and a pair of Nikes (which he would trade any day for his classroom attire). He tugged on his Marvelle Academy Avengers cap and snatched his clipboard from his bag. The blond then made his way outside to the baseball diamond, once again humming a random tune, the same stupid smile plastered on his features.

Peter watched as Coach Rogers emerged from the locker room with a bit of a bounce to his step. He had this almost out of character smile on his face, and he was humming. Peter scrunched up his eyebrows and elbowed Wade in the ribs.

"Coach Rogers seems…different."

Wade took one look at their coach and rolled his eyes at Peter. "Uh duh, Sherlock. What do you think has him in such a good mood?"

Peter shrugged. "Mr. Barnes?"

Wade held up his index finger, as if to say bingo. His features were smug looking. "Coach Rogers obviously got laid."

"You're gross, Wade!"

"Whaaaat, it's a beautiful part of the circle of life!"

Peter hushed Wade as Steve got within earshot of the two of them. But Wade was whispering shit in his ear, like did Coach Rogers top or bottom? Was he loud? Was Mr. Barnes loud? Peter wished he would stop for Christ's sake because he didn't want the mental image of two of his favorite teachers sleeping together burned into his brain.

"What's got you in such a good mood, coach?" Peter asked, to get Wade to stop asking him gross questions. "We just lost our last game. And we're up against the Jump City Titans next week…"

Steve looked at his team. "What, I just can't be in a good mood? And besides, Jump City isn't all that great; besides, I'm proud of you boys, win or lose. I'm sure we could tie with them."

The players exchanged confused and worried glances with each other. What had gotten into Coach Rogers that changed his whole outlook on winning and losing? Wade would probably answer that with "Mr. Barnes". Peter's face was burning because of the image that flashed behind his eyes.

He hated Wade.

After Steve called for attendance, he set the boys off on some drills. They were pretty basic running drills, just to get their blood pumping, and Peter expected that they would increase in difficulty.

Peter was wrong.

They didn't do much else besides another scrimmage, but it felt much more relaxed than the last scrimmage they played against each other. Occasionally, Steve would call out pointers to the boys, almost with a dream-like look in his eyes. The coach almost got knocked upside the head with the ball more than once.

Peter was worried that if this kept up, they wouldn't ever be able to win (or tie for that matter) with another team ever again.


James Buchanan Barnes was ecstatic.

He couldn't believe that Steven Grant Rogers had actually went on a date with him, had actually kissed him (only on the cheek, but it still counted!). And the prospect of another date with the beautiful blond history buff was definitely not a far-fetched idea. Bucky would be lying if he hadn't thought about going on another date with Steve. Or another three dates. Or five. Bucky was just so happy that he could be himself with the blond; Bucky had always had trouble trying to sort out his romantic feelings for people. When he himself was in high school, he had dated only girls. He didn't want his friends to think anything less of him because he wasn't sexually (or romantically, for that matter) into chicks. None of those relationships ever worked.

Then he went away to college. Bucky totally dropped the act of pretending to be into girls, because he found that people in college didn't really care who you had sex with. He was into hookups. It was exhilarating. He didn't have any "relationships" that lasted longer than a month. Bucky had met Natasha in college, had quickly become friends with her. But she told him that hooking up with someone new every weekend wasn't good for his health, mentally or physically.

So Bucky stopped with the hookups and the one night stands. He had had one serious relationship after graduating college, but that was about it. Every once in a while, he would hookup with someone he met through one of those dating apps. But those were short lived, and Bucky never saw any of them again after sleeping with them.

Bucky had a serious commitment problem, but he was hoping Steve would help him fix it.

With Steve, things were different.

And Bucky was happy that things were going his way for once.

Bucky was pulled out of his happy place and brought back to reality; his classroom door slammed shut behind one scary-looking Natasha Romanov, and his gradebook was out in front of him, projects to his right. Bucky looked up at the psychology teacher, turned his music down. She may have looked mad or annoyed, but he knew that that was Nat's chronic resting bitch face. She couldn't help it.

"What is it, Nat?" Bucky asked, no undertone of annoyance or teasing in his voice. The redhead quirked an eyebrow.

"Not gonna bitch about me barging in here? Who are you, and what have you done with the real James Barnes?" Natasha said dryly, her voice heavily laced with sarcasm. She looked at Bucky for a moment in silence, and her lip twitched up at the ends in an all-knowing smirk.

"Maybe I was wrong about what I said the other day."

"Wrong about what?"

"About you not getting laid this weekend."

Bucky coughed, surprised (but not really—more like caught off guard) and swatted at Nat. He missed. He buried his burning face in his hands. "Why must you assume that I'm in a good mood because you think Steve screwed me?"

Nat rolled her eyes as if it were an obvious answer. "Because that's possibly the only thing on earth that could make you this happy."

Bucky stopped grading projects (which he wasn't really even grading them—more like inspecting them and giving them a 90 or more. He was in such a good mood that he wanted to share that good mood with his students). He looked at Nat with a bitch face to rival hers.

"Nat, I'm not rushing into anything, even with Steve," Bucky told her. "He said something about not being out and dating for a while, and I don't want to push him into anything that he's not ready for. And that includes doing him."

Nat looked at him. "You're really serious about Steve, aren't you?"

"Completely."

Natasha smiled for a half a second, and then it was gone. "Alright, lover boy, I'll see you at the faculty meeting later."


Steve never really liked faculty meetings. Before, he had told himself that it was a chance to see Bucky, before the whole bet was a thing. Now it was an even better excuse to see Bucky.

Steve was always early to these things, but he was surprised to find that Tony and his friend, Sam Wilson, were already there. Tony smirked at him and raised his eyebrows as Steve took a seat next to him.

"I was just telling Sam about that bet you had made with Mr. Barnes." Tony's expression was smug. Sam, on the other hand, looked mildly intrigued. Steve was just embarrassed.

Steve looked at Sam. "I swear, the two of us just went on a coffee date. Nothing. Else. Happened."

"Haven't you been eyeing him ever since he started teaching here a few years ago? You only just managed to go out with him? Over a bet?" Sam's voice sounded incredulous.

Steve folded his arms across his chest. "It's not like I knew he was into guys. You guys obviously wouldn't know, but it's hard for me to ask people out."

"Especially when they're hot, rugged auto-mechanic teachers who have a soft spot for hot, blond, history buffs like yourself," Tony added nonchalantly. Steve buried his burning face in his hands; his friends were not helpful in the slightest.

Other teachers began to file in. Every time the door opened, Steve looked up, a hopeful glint in his eye. However, Bucky still hadn't shown up. Steve pressed his lips together in a line, trying to suppress the frown that was fighting its way onto his features.

Nick Fury, the principal, walked towards the front of the room, and a sort of hush fell over the teachers. It was at this moment that one Bucky Barnes decided to slip into the room, trying to go for an unnoticeable entrance. He failed miserably, however. Every single pair of eyes was on the auto-mechanics teacher, most definitely including Steve's blue eyes.

"Sorry, Fury," Bucky mumbled as he slid into the seat next to Steve.

"Don't let it happen again, or I'll have your ass, Barnes," Fury growled.

Tony snickered. "Steve's already got it," he whispered to the blond. Steve elbowed him hard without taking his eyes off of Bucky. And then the meeting began.

Steve wasn't really paying attention to the words coming out of Fury's mouth, because his mind was a little too occupied with Bucky holding his hand tightly under the table. Steve was smiling like an idiot, because seriously, two grown ass men holding hands under the table at a faculty meeting? What were they, kids? But Steve wasn't complaining. The two of them kept looking at each other, as if speaking telepathically back and forth. Tony kept rolling his eyes at the two of them, but Steve didn't care.

Steve only cared when Fury rolled his eyes.

"Would the both of you cut it out with the lovey dovey shit? I can't concentrate with the both of y'all sitting there making goo-goo eyes at each other."

There was a moment of silence that let the embarrassment seep into the two teachers before everyone in the room proceeded to lose their shit.

Tony leaned over to and told Steve between bouts of laughter, "C'mon, you really didn't see this happening?"

The only one who wasn't laughing was one of the gym teachers, Thor Odinson. He looked thoroughly confused.

"I do not get what all the laughter is about," Thor semi-yelled over the laughter in the meeting room. Both Bucky and Steve seemed to relax. Until Bruce Banner, one of the physics teachers, leaned over and whispered to Thor what exactly had just happened. The laughter died when Thor's eyes lit up, pleasantly surprised.

"CONGRATULATIONS, STEVEN AND JAMES!" The blond gym teacher practically screamed as soon as the last bit of laughter was silenced. Bucky slammed his head down on the table and groaned as laughter filled the room once more. Even Fury seemed to crack a smile. Steve was so god damn embarrassed, but he looked at Bucky, his head banging against the table, and he laughed a bit too. He looked quite adorable, flustered and all.

Maybe the teasing wasn't such a bad thing after all