Archive of Our Own

“So I’ll see you same time next week?” Sam asks him, a hand on his shoulder.

Bucky nods from where he’s standing in the doorway, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets. “Always. S-see you next w-w-week,” he says quietly.

That’s when the pair catches his eye. Two blonds, hands moving like lightning as they sign to each other. He notices the hearing aids in both of their ears. They’re both cute, but the smaller one is absolutely stunning. Perfect crescent moon on a clear, starry night gorgeous. Trees mid-turn in the fall gorgeous.  Flowers blooming in the spring gorgeous.

He gives Sam a last wave and forces his feet to move.

On his way out the door he hears Sam say, “Hey Clint. Steve, you ready?” to the pair.

He can’t help but glance back inside through the glass door. His dream man is the one getting out of his chair. Steve, huh? Nice.

He texts Natasha on the train home.

[Bucky: So I saw an actual, honest to god angel today. I think I’m in love.]

[Nat: Oh yeah? ;) This angel have a name?]

[Bucky: Steve :)]

[Nat: Where did you meet this STEVE?]

He didn’t meet him, so to speak. Is he being creepy? Probably. When he doesn’t answer she starts spamming him. Natasha is the queen of rapid fire texting.

[Nat: ??????]

[Nat: Where’d you meet him?]

[Nat: ?????????????]

[Nat: OMG answer me James]

[Nat: !!!!!!!!]

She sends a picture. The camera is way too close to her face, but she’s giving him an unmistakably scolding look.

[Bucky: OMG Tasha! Chill. Out.]

[Bucky: …………………..]

[Bucky: I didn’t /meet/ him so to speak]

[Nat: …………………]

[Nat: ????????]

[Bucky: He’s another one of Sam’s patients. He was in the lobby as I was leaving.]

[Nat: OMG UR SUCH A CREEP]

He knows she doesn’t actually mean it, but he flinches just a little when he reads the text.

[Nat: Get his number. Tap that ;D]

*

The next week, just as his session is about to end, he leans back in his chair a little and stares at his feet.

“S-so I, uh… l-last week I c-couldn’t help but n-n-notice those guys s-signing in the lobby,” he starts. Sam quirks an eyebrow at him, an amused smile on his lips. Bucky’s eyes flick up to his face briefly, but settle right back on his boots. “I-I-I think th-that might a g-g-good idea. The signing, I m-mean. Maybe if I l-learned, then when I’m having b-bad da-ays…” he trails off. He knows his cheeks must be bright pink, but when his gaze flickers to Sam’s face again he’s smiling, gentle and compassionate.

“I think it could be a great idea, as long as you don’t use it as an excuse to avoid talking and stop the rest of the work we’re doing,” he says.

“As if I could g-get good enough to d-d-do that anyway,” Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. “My b-brain barely even w-works now.”

“Hey,” Sam points an accusing finger at him, “you are doing great. And you’re so good with languages. What did I tell you about beating yourself up?”

“That’s y-your job,” he jokes. “R-right?”

“I call it gentle nudging,” Sam laughs. “But yeah, exactly. You know, it’s kind of ethically iffy for me to recommend Steve teaching you ASL,” he’s clearly thinking aloud, “because he’s my patient too, but I could totally ask Clint if he’d be up for it. If you want. As long as he remembers to change his hearing aid batteries there won’t be an issue.”

The blush returns to Bucky’s cheeks and he forces out a little laugh. “I could p-pay him, obviously,” he rushes out. “I… I m-mean, yeah, th-th-that would be g-g-g-… g-g-…” he lets out a frustrated sigh, turning even more pink, then mumbles, “awesome. Th-that would be awesome.”

“Awesome! I’ll ask him today and as long as he’s cool with it – which I’m sure he will be, he’s a really great guy – I’ll introduce you guys next week. Sound good?” Sam stands up and holds a hand out to him.

Bucky doesn’t actually need his help, but he takes his hand anyway, pulling himself up. “Yeah, sounds g-good.” He smiles, butterflies going nuts in his stomach at the thought of it.

They make their way out to the front and say their goodbyes as Bucky makes his appointment for next week. Same day, same time.

He tries to act normal and not stare as he makes his way out of the building quickly. This time, he doesn’t risk looking back.

*

“So he actually went so far as to suggest Dream Guy’s cute friend teach you?” Natasha asks him, draping her legs across his lap as they eat old take-out straight out of the containers.

 “Yeah I th-think I died and went to heaven!” he says, then thinks about it. “Or h-hell. It might actually b-be h-h-hell.” He laughs.

Nat snorts and rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, getting to spend time with at least one cute guy for, what, like an hour a day? Minimum? Absolyutno ad.” Absolute hell.

“V-valí ots-sjúda,” he laughs, rolling his eyes. Fuck off. “I can b-barely talk to S-Sam, talk about c-cute guys! Can you imagine if S-Steve hangs out one d-day or something? Oh my g-god!”

“And can you imagine if they’re gay or pan or bi or something too? Oh man, you guys could totally have a threesome!” she gasps, “We could totally have an orgy!” she jokes, cackling as Bucky chokes on his food a little.

“D-dude shut the f-f-fuck up! Oh my god!” She laughs even harder and he can’t help it, now he’s laughing too.

She points her chopsticks at him as their laughter is dying down. “Seriously though,” she says, “you are definitely going to have to introduce me eventually. I gotta meet this dream guy.”

“His f-friend might not even a-agree to teach me,” he reminds her.

“Who could say no to your pretty face?” she teases, leaning over to smush his face a little, mumbling affections to him in Russian like you would a small child.

He blushes and laughs, rolling his eyes as he shoves her hand away.

*

“So Clint said yes. A very excited yes might I add,” Sam informs him the next week as soon as they’re in his office with the door closed.

“R-Really?” Bucky’s face lights up.

“Yep,” Sam grins at him. “We’ll end a little early today so I can introduce you guys.”

He doesn’t think he’s ever been this excited for a session to end, not even back when he didn’t want to come.

Thankfully, time goes quickly with Sam, especially if he’s had a good week. When it’s close to the end of his hour, Sam goes out to get Dream Guy’s friend. Clint, right? Yeah, that was it. Suddenly he remembers he’s going to have to actually talk to this guy for this to work and he gets even more nervous than he already was. He’s trying to tug his left sleeve down before they get back, but it gets stuck on a metal plate just as the door is opening again.

“Dude, is that Stark Tech?!” the blond hisses as he enters the room. “That is so fucking badass!”

Sam sighs but there’s a small, amused smile on his face as he closes the door behind them. “What have I told you about filtering?” Sam asks.

Clint rolls his eyes melodramatically. “You’re not my shrink,” he teases, holding a hand out to Bucky. “I’m Clint. Barton. Nice to meet you.” He flashes a goofy grin.

Sam laughs and nudges him playfully. “You could still take my advice,” he says.

Bucky, bright red by now, shakes his hand quickly. “N-nice to m-m-meet you t-too. I’m B-B-B… B-B…” he starts to growl but catches himself and sighs instead, deflates a little. “I’m James,” he finishes, shifting his gaze to the carpet.

He fucking hates this. The more nervous he gets, the worse the stutter is. Then he gets even more nervous because of the stutter, and then it gets even worse. It’s a stupid vicious cycle and it’s embarrassing, he thinks.

“He goes by Bucky,” Sam adds, placing a hand on his shoulder for support.

“Th-thanks,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Well guys, time’s just about up, but how about you exchange numbers so you can figure things out?” Sam suggests, holding out a pen and stack of sticky notes to each of them.

“Oh, good idea!” Clint says, taking them and scribbling his number down. He sticks it on Bucky’s metal arm with a wink and Sam groans, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. Bucky just laughs and sticks his to Clint’s forehead.

“Oh, man, I like you already,” Clint says, laughing harder. “I’ll text you!” he calls out, peeling the note off his forehead and reading it as he head out the door.

“So, what do you think?” Sam asks once they’re alone again.

“I l-l-like him,” Bucky says, leaning against Sam’s desk. “He’s cool.”

“Good,” Sam smiles wide as they make their way down the hallway. “I knew you guys would get along.”

Bucky makes his appointment for next week and waves a little goodbye to Clint as he makes his way out of the building. The second he’s on the train he sends Natasha a text.

[Bucky: Clint Barton.]

[Nat: Give me five minutes!]

*

“He’s cute,” Natasha says the second he opens the door. She’s got her laptop open on top of the pizza box on the coffee table. Cartoon Network is on the TV.

“Told you,” Bucky replies with a chuckle. He kicks off his shoes and flops down on the couch next to her. Sure enough, Clint’s Facebook is on her screen.

“I’m assuming Dream Boy is Steve Rogers,” she says, pointing to a picture of him and Clint with their arms draped around each other.

“Th-that’s him,” he says, a dopey grin on his face.

[Clint: u free 2morro?]

“Is that Clint?” Natasha asks, trying to snatch his phone from his hand.

Bucky laughs and tries to keep her at bay as he responds.

[Bucky: Yeah. What time are you thinking?]

“Ask him to come here!” Tasha says, giving up on the phone and going back to clicking through his pictures. "Bribe him with pizza!”

[Clint: i’ll just txt u when i get up, probs like 2 or smth]

[Clint: ur place cool? mine’s kinda a dump]

“See?” he holds the phone out to her. “I d-didn’t even have t-t-to ask and you s-still got your way.”

“I always get my way,” she beams.

[Bucky: Yeah, that’s fine. As long as you don’t mind my roommate.]

He’s typing out their address when she nudges him roughly. “Look!” she all but shouts. “I’d say you’ve got a shot!”

The picture she’s pointing at is him and Clint again, clearly at a Pride event. Steve’s got a bi pride flag painted on his cheek and he’s blowing a kiss at the camera.

Nat snatches the laptop back and quickly clicks over to Steve’s profile. “And he’s siiiingle!” she sing-songs, throwing herself into Bucky’s lap, computer and all.

*

Bucky’s cleaning up the already-clean kitchen when the doorbell rings the next day. Natasha gets to the door before he can and practically throws it open.

“You must be Clint,” she says, letting him in. “I’m Natasha. Your tutor’s here James!” she calls out.

“Y-yes m-mother!” he calls back, rolling his eyes a little as he joins them in the living room. “You c-can just i-ignore her,” he jokes, keeping a straight face.

“You didn’t tell me your roommate was so gorgeous,” Clint says, winking at her.

Natasha’s eyebrows shoot toward her hairline and she puts her hands on her hips. “Excuse me,” she says. Clint must think she’s serious because his face falls. Bucky knows better. She’s tiny but she gets right up in his face. “What did you just say to me, punk?” But she’s already cracking a smile by the end of the sentence, fighting back a giggle.

“Sh-she’ll k-k-kick your ass,” Bucky says matter-of-factly, arms crossed over his chest as he fights his own laughter. “I’ve s-seen her k-kill men for l-l-less.”

“It’s true,” she says with a nod, backing away from him, eyes narrowed playfully, until she can flop herself onto the couch.

“That’s hot,” Clint mumbles, eye wide in some combination of fear and fascination.

Nat smirks and winks at him but Bucky just lets out a loud snort.

“Alright R-Romeo, let’s g-get st-started,” he says, motioning for Clint to follow him back to his bedroom.

“Bye,” Natasha flirts, wiggling her fingers at Clint and winking again as they leave.

“Is she single?” Clint asks, flopping himself onto the bed.

Bucky takes the desk chair. “Oh yeah, d-definitely,” he laughs, propping his feet up on the bed.

“Why’d you say it like that?” Clint pops his head up just enough to look at him.

“W-we, uh… we’ve g-got some… b-b-baggage,” he replies, tugging his hoodie sleeve down subconsciously.

“Dude, you don’t have to hide that thing. You know that, right? It’s sick as hell.” He grabs the stress ball off the nightstand and lets his head drop back to the mattress, tossing it up into the air and catching it with ease. “I can handle baggage.”

Bucky thinks of what Sam tells him. It’s not as noticeable as he thinks. Most people who do notice it probably think it’s fake. Or cool, at least. He really should get used to showing it. He’s a hero. That’s what that arm means. It means he’s a hero.

He’s a hero.

He shrugs off the hoodie, his cheeks only a little pink. Clint’s not looking at him anyway.

“I d-didn’t used to s-s-stutter,” he says after a moment. “Before the w-war. Most p-people deal with it in-in childhood, ya kn-know? But it’s g-got a s-surprisingly high comorbidity with PTSD.”

Clint props himself up on his elbows and gives him a sympathetic look. “That sucks dude.”

“Y-yeah,” he shrugs. “So yeah, w-we’ve got some b-b-baggage.” He chuckles.

“I can handle baggage,” Clint repeats, grins at him. “You think she’d go on a date with me?”

Bucky laughs and rolls his eyes. “She d-does think you’re c-cute,” he says. “I b-bet she coul-could be c-convinced.”

“Fuck yeah,” he pushes himself up the rest of the way and holds his hand up for a high five.

Bucky laughs and indulges him. “You-you’re one weird dude,” he teases. “I l-like it.”

*

“The l-lesson went well,” he’s telling Sam the next week. “He t-taught me th-the alphabet and gave me a n-name sign.”

“Wow, already?” Sam asks, clearly impressed.

“Y-yeah,” Bucky grins, leaning back in his seat. “T-two, actually. One for B-Bucky and one f-for James.”

“Yeah?” Sam laughs, quirking an eyebrow.

“He s-said the J-James one was for when he’s m-m-mad at me,” he laughs. “It’s just the Bucky one but with a j-j-‘j’ instead.” He signs it to show him.

Sam’s still laughing, shaking his head. “Mine’s- “ he cuts off, showing him. “Steve gave it to me.”

“He also t-taught me hello and n-nice to m-meet you and little stuff like th-that,” Bucky says, signing them clumsily as he says them. “Oh! And I t-took my hoodie off in f-front of him!” He beams.

“That’s awesome!” Sam says, throwing his hands up excitedly. “I’m really proud of you man.”

The rest of the session goes quickly and this time he stops to say hi to Clint on his way out.

“Steve, this is Bucky,” Clint says, signing as he goes. “The guy I told you about.”

“Nice to meet you,” Bucky signs, chooses showing off his metal hand over showing off his stutter. That’s the kind of day he’s having. How well does Steve hear, anyway? He’ll have to ask Clint about it. Could he develop a stutter with his hands, too? He doubts it, but that would be his luck. He’ll ask Clint about that too.

Steve lets out an honest-to-god giggle as he stands up and holds a hand out shake. Now that he’s standing Bucky can see that he can’t be taller than Natasha. “Nice to meet you too,” he says as they shake, then, “See you around.” And just like that he’s disappearing into the back.

Sam smirks and narrows his eyes at Bucky knowingly before closing the door.

“He’s not gonna, like, judge you or make fun of you for your stutter,” Clint says quietly, motioning for Bucky to follow him outside. It’s a little more private there and Bucky follows gratefully. “I wouldn’t be friends with someone like that. And Steve is, like, the least judgmental person to ever exist.”

“H-how do you know I w-wasn’t just t-trying to show off?” Bucky jokes. “D-do you always c-come with him?” he asks, changing the subject.

Clint gives him a suspicious once-over but he lets it slide. “Lately,” he says with a shrug. “His… uh… He’s going through some shit, ya know? So I’m sticking with him like glue for now.”

Bucky nods and leans against the building. “We-we’ve all got b-baggage, huh?”

Clint snorts. “Ain’t that the truth?” he mumbles.

“Our g-generation is s-s-so fucked,” Bucky laughs.

[Nat: Are you coming straight home?]

[Nat: Will you cook dinner? You’re so much better at it than me!]

[Nat: I don’t want to order out again. I’m getting fat.]

Then she sends a picture of herself giving puppy dog eyes.

“You gotta go?” Clint asks.

Bucky laughs and shows him the picture. “She w-wants me to c-cook. So y-yeah, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t turn that face down.”

“You’re s-smitten, man,” Bucky teases. “I’m j-just afraid of her.”

“Oh don’t even!” Clint points an accusing finger at him, snickering. “Smitten,” he mumbles. “I saw those twinkly eyes you got when you looked at my pal back there!”

Bucky blushes dark and holds up his hands. “Wh-what? N-no, no, I.. I j-just…” He lets them fall, a goofy grin slipping onto his face. “Yeah, yeah, you got me. H-he’s cute man. He’s f-fucking s-s-s-st…” he rolls his eyes with a groan. “He’s f-fucking beautiful.”

Clint is snickering, a smirk on his lips. “How about tomorrow you come by my place for your lesson?” he asks with a wink. “I’ll even clean.”

[Nat: Jaaaaaaameeeeeesssssssss]

[Nat: At least ANSWER MEEEEEEEEEEE]

Then she sends a picture of herself pouting.

Saved by the bell.

[Bucky: I’m coming, I’m coming. I’ll cook. Chill out homie.]

[Bucky: Call yourself fat again and I’ll kill you in your sleep.]

“C-c’mere,” Bucky says, scooting next to his new friend. He takes a picture of himself kissing Clint’s cheek and sends it to her. “Alright, I g-gotta go f-for real this time,” he says with a laugh.

[Nat: Hey! I called dibs!]

“My place tomorrow!” Clint calls after him, chuckling to himself. “I’ll text you! We’re gonna talk about this!”

Bucky just waves and gives him a thumbs up, not turning around.

*

“They’ve got to live together,” Natasha says the next day, picking through Bucky’s closet and occasionally tossing a pair of jeans or a shirt out to him. “Either that, or he’s being a little shit and invited him over or something.”

Bucky just rolls his eyes, a faint grin on his lips. He’s looking through the pile that’s accumulating on his bed. “Alright, I th-think you’ve got enough,” he says with a laugh.

She stops just long enough to peer over her shoulder, then gives a nod and turns. “Alright, now try them on,” she says, making her way over to the bed. She hands him one outfit and lays the rest out on the bed.

“I don’t have t-time to try all these on. I have to leave s-s-soon,” he says, putting a hand on his hip.

“Okay, okay, fine,” she throws her hands up in defeat. She lets out a hum as she looks over the outfits. “This one!” she says finally, pointing to a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater. “Perfect for fall, comfortable and cute, and you look equal parts cuddle-able and fuckable in it.”

Bucky blushes and looks at her incredulously. “The l-leggings are just for around the house. I c-can’t wear them out, Tasha, especially n-not to Clint’s house.”

“Why not?” Nat crosses her arms over her chest, glowering at him expectantly.

“Ch-chërt voz'mí,” he mumbles. Jesus Christ. “Do not even s-s-start Natalia.”

“Is it because you’re a man and men can’t possibly wear things like leggings or comfy sweaters or,” she gasps melodramatically, “god forbid a skirt or a dress!” She puts the back of her hand to her forehead and pretends to faint, not actually making it to the floor.

“D-don’t be like that Tasha!” he says, throwing his arms up in defeat. “You know I’m all for f-feminism and I’ll d-defend it to the death but it’s still not easy to t-take the c-criticism sometimes. Especially when I’m already g-getting shit for the st-stutter.”

She softens at that and gives him a sympathetic look. “I know,” she says, draping herself over him in a hug. “And some days it’s easier than others to say fuck what they think and just fuckin’ wear whatever the fuck you want.” She kisses his cheek, then holds him at arm’s length to look at him. She’s got a mischievous grin on her face. “I just really, honestly think you look so good in it. Stunning, really. And I really think Steve would like it.”

Bucky lets out a heavy sigh, tipping his head back and looking straight up to heaven. “Alright,” he mumbles, his gaze falling back to Natasha when he finds no salvation in the ceiling. “Alright, you win.”

Nat giggles and pumps a fist. “I always win,” she says with a smirk. “You’re gonna put eyeliner on too, right?” she asks as he changes.

“No, I’m n-not,” he says matter-of-factly. “Aren’t the l-leggings enough for you?”

“No,” she smirks. “Never. You gotta put some eyeliner on. Or at least pull your hair up into a messy bun, like you did it all half-assed like you didn’t have time,” she says, flinging a hair tie at him. “It’ll be so cute!”

Bucky laughs and rolls his eyes. Once he’s dressed he picks the hair tie off the floor and pulls it up. “Will my b-b-boots look stupid?” he asks.

“Go with the skate shoes I got you,” Nat says, following him out to the front door. “Keep me updated!”

Bucky laughs and rolls his eyes. “I will. See ya l-later.”

She leans up and kisses his cheek, giving him one last hug. “Good luck!” she says before pushing him out the door.

*

He’s actually feeling pretty good as he knocks on the door. Instead of Clint, though, a teenage girl answers, giving him a once-over. He gives her a confused look, opens his mouth to apologize, but she just peers over her shoulder.

“Clint! Your friend’s here!” she shouts before he can say anything, leaving the door swinging wide as she makes her way back into the apartment. “Make yourself comfortable,” she calls over her shoulder.

Bucky hesitates, knows he must look totally baffled, but eventually steps over the threshold and closes the door behind him. At least he’s in the right place, he guesses.

“Clint!” the girl is shouting as she makes her way down a hallway. “If you turned your hearing aids off again so help me!” Then there’s a door banging open and Clint lets out a high-pitched scream.

Bucky chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he looks around the living room.

“Sorry! Sorry,” Clint’s saying as he joins him a moment later, hands up defensively.

Bucky laughs, whirling around to greet him. “It’s not as m-messy as in the p-pictures,” he teases.

“Yeah well Katie cleaned. What the hell have you got on?” Clint asks, smirking. “Looks good.” He winks and does finger guns.

“Th-thanks,” Bucky laughs, blushing just a little as they take a seat on the couch. “So please t-tell me the girl isn’t y-yours. You don’t look old enough t-to have a teenage daughter.”

Clint snorts and rolls his eyes fondly. “No, that’s Kate. She’s kind of like a little sister to me. If I don’t let her hang out she just breaks in anyway, so, ya know.” He shrugs, the image of nonchalance.

“Remember that time you thought I was some random burglar and you tried to fight me and I kicked your ass?” she asks, snickering, as she joins them.

“S-So you like to sur-round yourself with g-g-girls like that, h-huh?” Bucky teases.

Clint just smirks and gives a dreamy nod. “My favorite kind of girl,” he says.

Kate fake gags and rolls her eyes.

“Anyway,” Clint ignores her. “We should get started cuz once Steve gets home I doubt we’ll get anything done.” He and Kate exchange dubious looks and Bucky feels like he’s missing out on something. He sends Nat a quick text.

[Bucky: Confirmed. They live together.]

[Bucky: Man have I got stories for you later.]

With Katie’s help they stay relatively on track and make it almost all the way through what Clint had planned for the day before Steve lets himself in. He looks gorgeous as ever, hair a mess and cheeks pink from the cool autumn wind and Bucky blushes instantly.

“Oh, hey!” Steve says. He’s smiling but there’s definitely surprise and something else he doesn’t recognize in his eyes and he’s signing something that makes Clint smirk and Kate giggle.

“H-hey,” Bucky replies with a little wave. Kate giggles again, but he’s mostly just trying to ignore Steve and Clint clearly arguing in ASL. “S-sup?” He tries to act normal but he’s silently praying that he’ll drop dead right on the spot.

It’s not until Steve glances at him the second he opens his mouth, face just a little surprised, briefly that he realizes he hasn’t actually spoken in front of Steve before now. Great. He’s practically vibrating with nervous energy now and he knows he’ll be lucky to get one damn solid word out. He knew Clint was setting him up for something. Why did he agree to this?

Steve keeps glancing over at him when he thinks Bucky’s not looking but he’s still arguing with Clint so Bucky takes the opportunity to text Natasha.

[Bucky: Bail! Bail! This is too much! Come and take me out please!]

He sends her a selfie of him making a melodramatic nervous face. He doesn’t notice Kate crossing her eyes and giving him bunny ears in the background.

Then, as an after though, he sends.

[Bucky: Please don’t send Wade. You’re a better shot.]

[Nat: Man I can’t believe I’m missing this!]

[Nat: Tell Clint to film it and send it to me!]

He just rolls his eyes fondly and slips his phone back onto the coffee table.

“You guys are being rude!” Kate reminds Steve and Clint and motions toward Bucky.

“Right, sorry,” Clint says, waving a hand dismissively. He’s still got that smirk on his face.

“You’re right Katie, sorry Buck,” Steve says with a smile. He flops into the armchair on the other side of Clint and slips his messenger bag off his shoulder.

“It’s ok-kay,” Bucky says. “N-Nat was t-texting me anyway.”

“Did you set up our date yet?” Clint asks him, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I t-told you, you gotta have the b-balls to ask h-her yourself or sh-she’ll say n-n-no.” He’s trying really hard to focus on his conversation with Clint and calm his nerves, but it’s not totally working.

Clint pouts a little and Bucky snaps a picture, sending it to her immediately.

“Oh shit, he sent that to her! Two for one! You want some ice for those burns?” Kate laughs. “I love him. Can we keep him?”

Bucky’s shaking with laughter now. Okay, he can totally see why Clint lets her hang.

“You can go live with him instead for all I care,” Clint says melodramatically.

“You would miss me too much,” she replies dismissively. “So how was the meeting Stevie?”

“Oh! Yeah, it went well,” he says, face lighting up. “I got the spot. Next month.”

“Steve’s an artist,” Clint explains, then turns to his friend. “Congrats dude.”

“Th-that’s amazing,” Bucky says. “I’m m-mostly just a h-hobo.”

Steve laughs, his eyes trailing over him fairly subtly. Bucky notices anyway. “You’re awfully clean for a hobo,” he jokes.

“You’re so dramatic James,” Clint teases, rolling his eyes.

“S-says you!” Bucky teases right back.

As if to prove his point Clint pulls him into headlock and gives him a noogie. “Good thing you didn’t take long on your hair!” he laughs.

Bucky squirms and giggles. He could probably strong arm him and get free, but he might hurt him in the process and he doesn’t trust himself. “C-Clint!” he whines through his laughter instead. “N-nonch-chalance takes a l-lot of w-w-work! S-Stop!”

Kate snaps a picture and Steve’s giggling into his hand. “Katie, that’s just mean,” he scolds half-heartedly. “Clint, stop before he flips you over that coffee table.”

Clint stops, Bucky’s head still trapped in the crook of his arm, and thinks about it for a minute. He looks down at the squirming body next to him, considering, before letting him go.

“Fine, if you insist,” he says with a fake pout, slouching back against the couch.

“I think you’re just lucky he didn’t break your fingers,” Kate teases, leaning across Bucky’s lap to flick Clint in the arm.

“You okay?” Steve asks Bucky, still giggling.

Bucky’s catching his breath, blushing bright pink but smiling a little as he nods. “Yeah, I’m f-fine. I’ll g-get him back,” he says, smirking at Clint. From Clint’s expression Bucky gets the feeling he knows he’s not just talking about the tickling.

“Soooo,” Clint drags the word out, switching his focus back to Steve, “you have the concept for that show all worked out?”

His phone goes off as Clint and Steve start chatting again.

[Wade: Nat told me everything! I’m outside the window, ready to take the shot. Just give me the signal!]

[Wade: ;P]

Bucky bites back a laugh. He quickly sends back

[Bucky: I told her NOT to send you!]

In response Wade sends a picture of him and Natasha pointing finger guns at the camera.

“I’m going to have to stop commissions until I get it all done, I think,” Steve is saying, slouching in the chair.

“It’ll be worth it though, right?” Clint asks.

“Yeah. I mean, it could be. As long as I sell enough pieces.” He looks over to Bucky and smiles. “So what do you do? Really?”

“Oh, m-me?” Bucky asks, the blush returning to his cheeks. “I, uh… n-nothing right now. After h-high school I w-went straight into the army and,” he shrugs, shifting uncomfortably, “after I g-got back I s-spent a l-lot of time… uh, in r-rehab for my arm,” he wiggles the fingers on his metal hand, “I haven’t b-been back long and I j-just haven’t f-f-figured out…” he trails off, shrugging again.

Steve’s eyes are sad and sympathetic, but not pitying, and he leans across Clint to squeeze Bucky’s knee gently. “You’ll figure it out,” he says with a smile.

Bucky’s heart jumps into his throat at the contact. His brain stops functioning for a minute.

“Uh th-th-th.. th-tha…” he lets out a frustrated sigh, balling his fists at his sides.

“Look at that. You broke him,” Clint gives a fake exasperated sigh as he shoves Steve back into the chair playfully.

Bucky waves him off and gives Steve a little smile. “I appreciate it,” he says, then, “I s-should p-probably go though.”

They say their goodbyes and Bucky’s just stepping onto the train when his phone goes off.

[Clint: he totes thinks ur cute ;)]

[Bucky: Yeah right]

He sends a picture of himself rolling his eyes.

[Clint: no way. we’re alternating from now on. next week its ur place!]

Clint sends a picture of himself winking and flashing a thumbs up.

Bucky just rolls his eyes and shoves his phone in his pocket.

*

Wade is still over when he gets home. Bucky kicks off his shoes and drops right into his lap. He holds out his phone to Natasha, the initial text from Clint on the screen.

“I told you those leggings were a good idea,” she says with a smirk.

“Yeah they were,” Wade wiggles his eyebrows at him suggestively.

“I’m officially picking out your outfit every time you go over there.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, flopping back against the arm of the couch so his head’s dangling over the side.

“You guys are the w-worst,” he mumbles.

“What’s with all the melodrama chuvák?” Natasha nudges his foot.

“He th-thinks I’m ‘cute’,” he says, doing the air quotes without lifting his head. “Of c-course he th-thinks I’m ‘cute’. I’m like some p-poor, broken puppy. I’m ad-dorable. Like a little rescue h-he can s-save,” he rolls his eyes. “He a-asked me what I do. L-like for a living…”

It’s Natasha’s turn to roll her eyes and she punches him in the leg. Hard.

“Ow! What the f-fuck was that for?” he shouts, head snapping up to glare at her.

“You’re doing it again!” she says.

“You are,” Wade says matter-of-factly, nodding and biting back a laugh.

“Y’know, not everyone looks at you like some poor pathetic vet. You’re the strongest person I know and you’re smart and funny. And you’re totally hot,” she says, glaring right back.

“You are,” Wade interjects again, snickering this time.

“Yeah, m-maybe to you guys!” Bucky argues. “T-to people who don’t know me as w-well I’m just this poor guy m-missing an arm who c-can’t get a damn sentence out without s-stuttering and just sits at home all day.”

“Oh I’m sure he knows all about you,” Nat smirks now. “You tell me what Clint says about me. You tell me everything. I bet as soon as he got home last week he told Steve all about you. Hell, I’d put money on the fact that yesterday afternoon as soon as they got out of the building the first words out of Clint’s mouth were ‘So that Bucky guy totally has the hots for you’.”

“She has a point,” Wade says.

All the blood rushes from Bucky’s face. “Shit,” he mumbles under his breath. She’s probably right. “I’m s-so fucked.”

*

“I’m gonna ask her out,” Clint says the next week after their lesson, tossing Bucky’s stress ball at him.

Bucky catches it easily and tosses it back. “I’ve been t-telling you to do that for, l-like, what? Three weeks n-now?”

Clint rolls his eyes, tosses the ball again. “You should ask Steve out,” he says.

Bucky sputters, too shocked to catch the ball so it just hits him in the face. “Wh-what? Um n-no!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you not into dudes?” Clint quips, laughing. “My mistake, I just thought the way you looked at him like he hung the fucking stars meant you were into him.”

Bucky spins around to his desk, feeling his cheeks flush. “S-shut up!” he mumbles. “I don’t even r-really know him.”

“That’s why you go on dates idiot. I’m not telling you to the marry the guy.. at least not yet.”

When Bucky spins back around to glare at him, Clint’s smirking. “He w-wouldn’t be into someone l-like me anyway,” he says.

“Dude, dude, my friend, my bro, my homie,” Clint scrambles to the edge of the bed and clasps Bucky’s hand in his. Bucky flinches a little, fights the urge to tug his left hand free. He’s not used to people touching it. “Do you want to know how hard he was checking out your ass when you left last week? Do I have to describe in intimate detail, quote word for word, what we were arguing about when he got home? I will record him when later. Twenty bucks says he asks about you. Fifty! One hundred dollars!” He throws his arms into the air for dramatic effect and flops backwards onto the bed.

Bucky’s laughing now and he rolls his eyes. “I d-don’t have anything to offer him,” he argues. “I don’t even h-have a job. And I’m, l-like the most boring person ever.”

Clint rolls his eyes, opens his mouth to argue, but instead he just smirks. Oh god. Bucky knows that look. He’s scheming. But instead of saying anything, he just climbs off the bed and leaves the room, throwing the door open.

“Natasha my love!” he calls down the hallway. And now he’s changing the subject. Or something. Oh god, what is he up to?

When Bucky scrambles out to the living room Clint’s on the couch next to Nat, his arm slung around her shoulders.

“So whatta ya say?” he’s asking, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“I guuueeess,” Nat replies with a smirk. She leans forward and kisses him on the cheek.

“See how easy that was?” Clint turns to Bucky. “Your turn!”

Bucky rolls his eyes and snorts. “Congrats,” he says. “I’m still n-not asking him out.”

*

A couple weeks pass and Bucky gets more and more suspicious as Clint doesn’t say anything else about him and Steve. He doesn’t even tease him. As much.

He lets out a sigh as he’s knocking on his door for the millionth time. “Clint!” he calls. “If you l-left your hearing aids out again s-so help me!” He realizes what he says a second too late and vaguely thinks that maybe he’s been spending too much time with him and Katie.

Just then, the door opens and there’s Steve, hair a mess, covered in paint and laughing. “Hey,” he says, “Sorry, I was all the way down the hall in my studio.” He steps back and motions for him to come in.

Bucky’s heart skips a beat and he knows he’s gone pale. “Oh, h-hey,” he says, feigning nonchalance, kicking off his shoes as Steve closes the door behind him.

“Clint’s actually out with Katie right now,” Steve says. “But you’re more than welcome to hang out. They shouldn’t be too long.”

“R-really?” Bucky asks, pulling out his phone. He checks the time, then double checks the text Clint had sent him this morning. “Th-this is when he t-told me to be here.” That fucker!

Steve laughs and shakes his head a little. “He probably forgot,” he says. “He is known to do that. Anyway, make yourself at home. Help yourself to whatever. You know how to turn the TV and stuff on, right? I hate to be a shitty host but I really have to finish this last piece. The show’s this Friday.”

“O-oh, yeah, I d-don’t mind. You don’t have to ‘h-host’ me or anything,” he laughs. “Th-that’s this Friday already?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair and smearing more paint in it in the process. “You’re coming, right?” Is that a blush? Now way. It can’t be.

Bucky turns pink and smiles, shifting his gaze to his feet. “I d-didn’t know I was in-vited,” he says, then looks back up.

“Of course you’re invited!” Steve says excitedly. “All my friends are invited. Hell, your friend Natasha’s coming with Clint.”

Bucky laughs and looks away bashfully for a moment, collecting himself before he meets Steve’s eyes. “Th-then I wouldn’t m-miss it for the world,” he says.

For a moment they just look at each other, each looking like they’re going to say something.

But just then Clint and Kate crash through the door, laughing. They both stop suddenly when they see Steve and Bucky’s body language. They exchange looks, smirking, and Clint says, ”Hey man, I totally forgot you were coming by this early.” Kate snickers next to him and he elbows her. She composes herself.

Bucky’s getting good enough that he can figure out what he’s saying when Steve signs, “You totally did that on purpose you liar.”

“N-no problem,” Bucky replies, giving Clint a look of his own. “S-Steve here is a g-great host. Unlike some people I know.”

Clint rolls his eyes, still smirking, and links his elbow with Bucky’s. “Well I’m a better teacher,” he jokes. And with that he tugs Bucky over to the couch, Kate muffling giggles as she follows them.

*

The gallery is already packed when Bucky and Natasha get there for Steve’s opening. The show’s called “Dying to be Healthy” and he doesn’t really get it but he guesses he’ll figure it out when he sees the art.

Bucky’s immediately drawn in by the first painting. At first glance it looks like someone on a bathroom floor snorting a line of coke in the background, a bottle tipped over in the foreground with these weird-looking tablets spilling out. But when you get closer the label on the bottle reads “glucose tablets”. Bucky thinks it’s clever, and the realism is beyond amazing.

Natasha had spotted Clint and gone to join him, but Bucky’s too engrossed now. He’s gotta see the rest.

After half an hour and he’s almost to the back, focusing on a picture with a kid no more than 9 that’s taking a “shot” of some liquid medication, more dosing cups filled and lined up like shot glasses on the bar in front of her. The bottle reads ‘Ethosuximide’. Bucky’s face is pinched as he tries to remember if the medication is familiar.

“It’s for epilepsy,” Steve explains. Bucky jumps a little. He didn’t even notice him walk up. But he beams at the blond as he turns to him, notes the pink tinting his cheeks. “An anti-seizure med,” Steve goes on, handing Bucky a drink.

“Th-these are amazing,” Bucky says, a little breathless, as the takes the drink. “I m-mean, h-honestly...” he trails off.

Steve’s blush darkens and he smiles wistfully, shifting his focus to the piece in front of him. “I’m glad you like them,” he says. “I don’t think everyone’s going to get it.” He glances at Bucky briefly, then back to the painting. “People without any kind of chronic condition or anything, you know? They won’t get it. But I wanted to do something that showed the struggles of people like me, that would kind of shock people into getting it maybe.”

Bucky’s a little curious over the ‘people like me’ comment but he decides not to ask about. They’re not that close yet, he thinks. “The s-shooting insulin like h-heroin one b-blew my mind,” he says instead, fidgeting with his drink a little as he turns to look at the blond. “Th-they’re all giving me ch-chills though.”

Steve looks up at him, cheeks pink and a shy smile on his face, and chews on his bottom lip a little. “It really means a lot,” he says softly. “I was worried no one would get it, or that they would think it’s stupid or pretentious or something. There are just so many people struggling behind closed doors and,” he shakes his head, laughs a little. “Sorry, sorry. I’m such a douche.”

“N-no, it’s okay,” Bucky smiles. He reaches up and puts his flesh hand on Steve’s shoulder. “It’s amazing th-that you’re s-so passionate.” His heart skips a beat at the contact. Is he being too bold? Is he being weird? He lets his hand fall back to his side.

“Wow Steve-o, really deep shit you’ve got here.” It’s the one and only Tony Stark and he grabs both of Steve’s shoulders from behind, giving them a little squeeze.

“Tony,” Steve laughs a little dryly and smiles over at him as he comes to stand next to him. “Hey, I didn’t know you’d be here,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“I had to find out through Pepper,” Tony pouts. Bucky gets the impression it’s all for show. “Do you know how much that hurt me?” he teases. “Didn’t even call me or nothin’.”

“I think you’ll get over it,” Steve laughs. He opens his mouth to say something else but just then Tony notices Bucky’s hand, gets this wicked glint in his eye, and interrupts him.

“Hey, is that one of mine?” he asks, immediately reaching out and grabbing Bucky’s hand.

Bucky jumps, grabbing his hand back like Tony’s touch burned him, his eyes wide and his heart racing. “Y-yeah,” he stutters.

Steve groans and rolls his eyes. “Tony, you can’t just… ” he trails off, exasperated.

Slowly, Bucky holds his hand back out. “N-no, it’s ok-kay. Just st-startled me is all,” he says softly. His heart starts to return to a normal rate.

“See Steve-o? It’s fine,” Tony says, giving Bucky a wary look before taking the hand again. He flexes the fingers and pushes Bucky’s sleeve up as far as it’ll go, inspecting it. It feels weird, having someone treating his arm like it’s just another computer or something.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Steve signs. “Don’t be intimidated by him.”

Bucky nods quickly, signing, “Yeah,” and glancing back and forth between them. He notices Natasha watching, stance tense, from across the room. He gives her a little nod that he’s okay and after a moment she lets her focus drift back to the conversation she’s in, smile falling back into place perfectly.

“There you are,” says a woman, another redhead, as she approaches their small group. She’s eyeing Tony as warily as Steve. “J’espère que vous avez demandé d’abord,” she adds. I hope you asked first.

“Oui mère,” he responds, rolling his eyes. Yes mother. Then he beams up at her. “Look, it’s one of mine.” He points to the arm like a proud child.

Bucky can feel the heat spreading down his chest. He’s not used to all this attention and he feels bad that he’s getting it tonight. It’s supposed to be Steve’s night. Steve, on the other hand, is just watching the scene laid out in front of him, an amused grin playing on his lips.

“Oh, wow, I’ve never Stark Tech up close like this before,” the woman teases, smiling. She nudges Tony back and holds out her hand. “I’m Pepper, nice to meet you,” she says. “Is it working well for you?”

“Y-yes ma’am, très bien,” very well, Bucky replies, switching the drink to his now-free metal hand so he can shaking her hand properly. It’s nice to meet you too. “Enchanté de v-vous renc-contrer aussi. M-my name’s J-James.”

Pepper smiles even wider when he replies in French, clearly impressed. Even Tony gives a little impressed eyebrow quirk behind her. “Glad to hear it,” she says. Then she turns to Steve and clasps his hands in hers. “The work is amazing, as always.”

“Thanks,” Steve smiles. “I’m really glad you could make it. I know how busy you are.”

“Oh she was invited but not me?” Tony asks incredulously, but they both ignore him.

“We always have time for you,” Pepper laughs. She leans forward and kisses his cheek, then links her arm with Tony’s. “We’re going to go check out the rest of the stuff, but we’ll see you around.”

“Definitely,” Steve smiles. “Make sure you say bye before you leave.”

“Of course,” Tony grins. “And, hey, give your friend here my personal line in case something does go wrong with that baby.”

“Give him mine,” Pepper corrects him, trying to tug Tony away.

“Give him both,” Tony calls over his shoulder.

Steve’s laughing and shaking his head fondly and as soon as they’re far enough away Bucky just lets the calm expression fall from his face, gawking at Steve.

“You’re f-friends with T-Tony Stark?” he asks, still in disbelief. There’s no way that actually just happened.

Then his heart sinks. If Steve is friends with people as impressive and interesting as Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, he has absolutely zero chance with him. Fuck. Well, that settles that. He’s never asking Steve out.

“Unfortunately,” Steve jokes, laughing. “Sorry that he just…” he makes a motion like when Tony grabbed his hand. “He’s just kind of like that. Very…” he thinks for a moment, trying to find the right word, then looks up into Bucky’s eyes and laughs. “Tactile,” he says finally.

Bucky’s still just a little shocked.

*

“I would have kicked his ass,” Natasha says later that night. She’s in the shower but Bucky’s opted to just wash his face and brush his teeth in the sink. “So what if it was Tony Stark? Mne po barabánu.” I don’t care.

He spits out a mouthful of water and inspects himself in the mirror a little.  “It’s f-fine Nat.” Bucky pulls his hair up into a loose bun and gathers up his clothes. “I’m g-gonna go get some f-food,” he says on his way out. “You want me t-to heat you up s-some too?”

“Yes please,” she calls. “I’ll be right out.”

Bucky dumps his clothes in his room then gets the food out and starts reheating it and Nat joins him as he’s throwing it onto two plates.

“So I saw you and Steve making eyes at each other,” she says, a smirk on her lips. She bumps their hips together as she grabs her plate and settles onto the couch.

Bucky throws her a little glare then rolls his eyes, grabbing his plate and flopping down next to her. “We were n-not making eyes,” he protests. Then he gets this little coy look on his face. “Okay, m-maybe I was making eyes at h-him,” he snickers a little. “B-but it wasn’t m-mutual or anyth-thing.”

Nat snickers and it’s her turn to roll her eyes. “Oh it was definitely mutual priyátel',” she says, pointing her fork at him. “If you couldn’t see that then you’re fucking blind.” When Bucky just waves a dismissive hand and makes a grumpy little noise at her she asks, “So when are you going to ask him out?”

Bucky snorts and nearly chokes on his food. “I’m n-not asking him out,” he says. “I t-told Clint a m-million t-t-times and now I’m g-gonna tell you t-too. I’m n-n-not asking him out. End of d-d-d… d-di… That’s it. N-not happening.”

Nat raises her eyebrows as she looks at him. “Listen to you, man. He’s got you all worked up and he’s not even here,” she mumbles, but Bucky glares at her so she drops it.

“Are you and C-Clint, like… official now?” he asks her after a long silence. “L-like… a thing?”

She actually freezes, fork half way to her mouth, and blinks a couple times before she actually takes her bite. “I don’t know,” she says finally, fork still hanging out of the corner of her mouth. She hums, thinking, then says finally, “You know how I feel about it James… But, I guess… if anyone should get a chance it should be him, right?”

Bucky’s expression softens and he rests a hand on her knee. “N-Now who’s all worked up?” he teases half-heartedly. “But s-seriously though, yeah. It should be h-him.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek as he gets up to put his plate in the sink.

“Yeah, and you should ask Steve out,” she calls after him.

“I’m t-too boring,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads down the hall to his room. “I’m gonna go to b-bed. N-Night.”

Natasha jumps up and dumps her plate in the sink before rushing after him. By the time she reaches his room he’s already crawling into bed.

“Fignjá!” she says, bullshit, as she crawls under the covers with him. “You are a sci-fi-loving space nerd who speaks, like, fifteen languages and writes these amazing stories and poems and -” she huffs as Bucky cuts her off.

“And h-he hangs out with guys l-like Tony S-Stark,” he argues. “I c-can’t compete with th-that.”

“Dude, Tony Stark is probably the only famous… genius… whatever- asshole that he knows, first,” she holds up a finger to shush him when she sees he’s about to argue. “And second, you are, at your worst, at least as interesting as Tony Stark. At your worst. You are worth ten Tony Starks. I promise.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and wraps an arm around her waist. “You’re s-so full of shit Natalia,” he mumbles. He pauses, then asks, “Stay h-here tonight?”

Nat narrows her eyes at him, but eventually she melts into a smile and curls into his chest. “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbles, already nodding off.

“Clint’s gonna be s-so jealous,” Bucky teases, eyes drifting shut himself.

Natasha snorts. “He knows you’re gay as fuck. He won’t be worried,” she yawns. “Now shut up or I’m going back to my own bed.”

*

The next week when Clint shows up for their lesson, Steve is tagging along. Bucky thinks his heart may have actually stopped.

“Natalia!” he calls, wandering into the living room as Steve and Clint are peeling off their shoes and jackets. “You and your b-boyfriend p-planned this, d-didn’t you?!” he asks in Russian. He’s trying to keep his tone light so Clint and Steve don’t think he’s mad but he thinks his voice is up a couple of octaves from its usual tone so it’s probably not working out so well.

“Why whatever do you mean?” she replies, smiling that wolf grin at him and batting her eyelashes.

“You n-nosy woman!” he throws up his hands in frustration. “Don’t p-play c-c-coy with me.”

Steve and Clint have wandered into the living room and are staring at them, confused and amused and curious.

“Why, my dear, I just thought I should get to know my boyfriend’s best friend, that’s all,” her tone is sickly sweet and thick as molasses. “I figured we could chat while you guys were doing your thing, and then after all four of us could hang out.”

He narrows his eyes at her and opens his mouth a couple of times, but he can’t come up with a good argument so he finally just huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “C-Come on Clint, let’s l-leave these t-two alone,” he gives Clint a suspicious look of his own, then motions for him to follow as he heads back toward his room. “You b-better be n-n-nice to Steve!” he calls over his shoulder.

“Of c-course my little pryanichek!” she calls back with a mischievous giggle.

To his credit, Clint manages to keep a straight face all the way until Bucky’s door is closed behind them. Then he just smirks and starts laughing.

“I don’t know what you guys were saying,” he flops onto Bucky’s bed and stretches a little, “But I can imagine and that was hilarious.”

“I s-should have n-n-never let you two m-meet,” the brunet mumbles, throwing himself into his desk chair and letting it spin until it runs out momentum. “You g-guys are the w-worst.”

“To our credit, we just want you to be happy,” Clint nods matter-of-factly.

Bucky just rolls his eyes. “L-Let’s just get this over with.”

*

“So,” Natasha starts, motioning for Steve to join her on the couch once she hears Bucky’s door click shut.

Steve looks just a little scared as he sits down next her. “So…” he repeats, then, “You’re the famous Natasha, huh?”

“Infamous,” she corrects him. That grin hasn’t left her face and it’s kinda freaking him out.

“Right,” Steve laughs a little nervously. “I’ve heard so much about you. Clint is totally head over heels.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you too,” Nat shifts so she can face him better. “So I’m going to cut to the chase. I saw the way you were looking at Bucky at your gallery opening.”

Red blooms on his cheeks instantly.

“Oh.. uh..” he stammers, not really sure what to say. “I mean… I guess I’ve got a little crush, if that’s what you want to call it.” He lets out another little nervous laugh. “But I don’t… really know what he thinks of me. It’s like, one second I think I might have a shot, or that we could at least be friends... but then the next I’m thinking I read him wrong, like he totally hates me. Sometimes we’re working towards friends and sometimes it’s like he’ll do whatever he can to avoid me. Like how upset he got today when he realized I was here.”

To her credit, Natasha had managed to keep her face only mildly amused until now. But she just can’t hold it anymore and she bursts into giggles, making Steve blush darker.

“Oh god,” she mumbles through her laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…” she holds up a hand for pause as she gets herself back under control. “He avoids you sometimes and got so upset because he likes you,” she says.

“This isn’t kindergarten. Boys aren’t mean to you because they like you,” he replies, indignant now.

“He’s not trying to be mean,” Natasha snickers and rolls her eyes. “Listen, we were overseas for a long time. Special ops. The only human contact was with our team, if we were lucky. He’s not super good with people. Then factor in the fun little stutter he developed. He gets nervous when he talks sometimes, and then when he gets nervous it gets worse and that just makes him more nervous and… You get it?”

Steve chews his lip, gives a little nod. “Kinda… I guess. As much as I can, I think.”

“He thinks there’s no way you could like him, especially not ‘broken’, as he puts it. But he likes you so he gets nervous when you’re around. When he gets nervous his stutter gets worse and he doesn’t want you thinking he’s broken so he avoids you. Get it yet? Good. Now listen, let’s get back to my original reason for bringing this up.”

She glances around to make sure he Bucky didn’t sneak back out of his room or something. When she’s satisfied, she leans in close, voice low, and says, “I saw the way you were looking at him and I think you should ask him out.”

Steve looks at her, unsure. “I mean,” he starts, “If he’s not comfortable with it, I don’t want him to –“

“He won’t,” Natasha cuts him off. “It’s not a comfort thing. Just show him how you feel. Let him know you don’t see him as some poor thing to be rescued or fixed or whatever. Trust me. He’s not going to do it. You have to make the move.”

Steve’s chewing on his lip again, nodding thoughtfully. “Clint did say something similar,” he says. He looks up at her and smiles. “Alright, but not tonight. I want it to be perfect.”

*

[Tony Stark: Hey Buckaroo you busy?]

The text comes a couple of weeks after the gallery opening.

“What the f-fuck?” Bucky mumbles, staring at his phone like it had just gotten up and started dancing or something.

Natasha looks up from her laptop and leans over so she can read the text.

“What the fuck?” she asks, tone matching Bucky’s exactly. She looks up at him curiously. “Are you guys friends now or something?”

“N-no,” Bucky looks at her, brow still furrowed in confusion. “I only have his n-number because S-Steve insisted I l-l-let him program it in.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow but then just shrugs. “He must have given him yours then,” she says and shifts her attention back to whatever she was doing. “Answer him.”

He looks between her and his phone for a minute before letting out a little sigh. Alright, sure, this is totally not weird.

[Bucky: Nope.]

Smooth Bucky.

[Bucky: Why? What’s up?]

Better. Nonchalant. Nice.

[Tony Stark: Was wondering if you’d want to come by. I’d like to check out your arm, make sure it’s up to par. Only the best for my friends.]

[Tony Stark: If you don’t mind, of course.]

Bucky’s got that look again and he mumbles, “I… I th-think Tony Stark just c-called me his… friend.”

Natasha just lets out a snort.

“I’m serious,” he says, holding his phone out to her. “He asked me t-to ‘come by’ whatever that m-means.”

She glances at it and quirks an eyebrow. “He’s fuckin’ weird,” she grumbles, shifting her gaze up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Are you gonna say yes?”

Bucky widens his eyes and shrugs a little. “I… I d-dunno. S-Should I?”

Natasha leans back and crosses her arms over her chest, pondering. “Only if I can come too,” she says finally, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

[Bucky: Uh, sure. Would you mind if I drag my friend Nat along?]

[Tony Stark: The more the merrier. I’m at the Tower. Pep’ll meet you.]

So that’s how Bucky and Natasha end up at Stark Tower on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Nice to see you again James,” Pepper smiles widely as she approaches them.

“You t-too,” Bucky smiles, letting her pull him into a brief hug. He’s not really sure why, but he realizes he just feels so calm around Pepper. He likes it. “This is my f-friend, Natasha.”

“Nice to meet you,” Natasha holds out her hand, flashing that charming smile of hers. “Must take a strong woman to handle Mr. Stark.”

Pepper laughs as they shake. “Oh god, don’t call him that to his face. He’ll sulk all night,” she jokes. “But thank you, you’re not wrong. Come on, I’ll take you up to his lab or shop or whatever he’s calling it this week.”

Natasha shoots him a look as they follow Pepper to the elevator.

The elevator comes to a stop just before the very top floor and Bucky’s mind is a little blown by the site that greets him. The entire floor is one big room full of monitors and work benches, metal scraps and robots in all states of completion. There’s even… is that a suit of fucking armor half done in the corner over there? What the fuck?

“Buckaroo!” Tony calls, hopping down from the stool he was on and tossing his welding mask across the room. “Glad you could make it. I see we have a similar type,” he teases with a wink. “Nat, right?”

“Actually, he’s more into blond’s,” she smirks, glancing at Bucky at her side. Bucky’s face falls and his cheeks turn pink. “Isn’t that right?”

“I’m m-more into dudes,” he tries to keep his tone light and teasing. He’s not sure if it works.

“That’s fair,” Tony gives a little nod, a knowing smirk on his face, then glances over their shoulders. “You gonna stick around Pep?”

Pepper smiles and shakes her head. “Unlike you, I have work to get done,” she teases fondly. “I’ll stop by later. Natasha, feel free to keep him in check in my place.”

Nat grins and nods. “Oh I will,” she laughs.

“Party pooper,” Tony pouts a little as she goes. “Alright, well, it’s just us then. C’mon.” He motions for them to sit down at an empty table. They do, cautiously, exchanging looks. “Go ahead,” he says, rummaging around his toolboxes. “Take a seat. I just gotta…” he pulls out a few different things and holds them up, grinning, victorious, as he turns back to them. “Alright. So let’s get started. C’mon,” he motions for Bucky to take his shirt off and the brunet turns pink again instantly.

“W-What?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest subconsciously.

“Oh don’t be modest,” Tony says, taking the seat next to him. “I pulled your file. It goes all the way up to your shoulder. I gotta be able to get at all of it.”

“I… I…” he stammers, looking at Nat for support. But she only grins and snickers, shrugging.

“He’s got a point. Off with it,” she encourages. Traitor.

He glares at her and hesitates for a moment before finally grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it off.

Tony lets out a low whistle, inspecting where the metal meets flesh and the scars winding across his torso like ivy.

*

Tony is almost done tinkering with Bucky’s arm, tweaking and tightening and fixing minor little issues that Bucky hadn’t even noticed, when the door opens. Bucky’s too exhausted to look and see who it is. It’s probably just Pepper anyway.

“Hey, I brought dinner as requested. Y’know I’m not your delivery boy Tony,” chimes an all-too familiar voice and suddenly Bucky doesn’t feel tired anymore.

That is definitely not Pepper.

His friends are planning something and Tony’s in on it now too. Has to be.

“Steve!” Natasha chimes. A Cheshire grin spreads across her face as she gets up to greet him.

“And now I understand why you had me get so much,” Steve laughs, letting Nat pull him into a hug.

“Thanks Steve-o! I’m almost done here and then we’ll eat,” Tony says. He only glances up long enough to flash Bucky a smirk and a wink.

Steve sets the food down on the table next to where Bucky’s metal arm is resting and he tries not to stare, he really does. But his self-control is terrible at times like this and he just can’t help himself. Bucky feels his eyes as they take in every inch of metal and skin and scar tissue.

“Hey,” the blond breathes, forcing himself to look away. He and Bucky both blush a little and Tony’s smirk just grows wider.

“On proveryaya vas,” Natasha sing-songs under her breath, that stupid grin still on her face. He’s checking you out.

“V-Valí otsjúda,” Bucky grumbles at her. Fuck off. He forces a smile and looks up at Steve. “Hey,” he replies, hoping he doesn’t sound as tired as he feels.

“Done!” Tony exclaims, holding a hand up in victory.

Bucky winces just a little as he flips the panel on his arm closed and quickly tugs on his shirt.

“How’s it feel?” Tony asks, shoving his tools out of the way and grabbing a take-out container.

“Better, actually,” Bucky replies, smiling as he rolls his shoulder, bends the elbow, flexes the fingers. Tony’s watching him with the first sincere smile he’s seen. “Like new. Thanks,” he says, meeting the other man’s eyes.

Tony’s sincere smile quickly becomes a cocky grin and he claps him on the shoulder. “No problem-o buddy. Now c’mon. Let’s eat.”

*

When Bucky gets home from Therapy the next day Natasha isn’t home, but Steve is sitting on his couch. There’s a bouquet of flowers sitting on the coffee table next to Steve’s hearing aids and the blond is sketching.

Bucky knows those flowers are for him. They have to be. So maybe Clint was right after all. Maybe Steve is into him. But he’s sure as hell going to play stupid and avoid making a fool out of himself.

He chuckles a little and approaches the blond, trying desperately to fight the blush blooming across his cheeks.

He gives a little wave to get Steve’s attention and signs, “Hey stranger. What are you doing here?”

Steve starts a little but then he blushes and laughs and jumps up. “Oh shit,” he signs. “I was going to surprise you when you came home. Hold on, one second.” He scrambles to put his hearing aids back in and then grabs the bouquet.

“L-Lose track of t-time?” Bucky teases. He can feel his own blush spreading down his chest.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles and holds out the flowers. “These are for you.”

“F-for me?” Bucky asks, taking them and taking a step closer. “N-now why would you d-do a silly th-thing like buy me f-flowers?”

Steve chuckles and closes the gap between them. They’re toe-to-toe now and he rests a hand on Bucky’s hip. “You’re gonna make me say it, huh?” he teases, a playful glint in his eye.

Bucky’s grinning wide and bashful, his heart racing as he just nods.

Steve laughs and shakes his head a little. “Well,” he starts, slipping his arm around the brunet’s waist. “I kind of have a little bit of a crush on you,” he says, leaning up on tip toes so their lips are just inches apart. “And I was wondering if you’d go on a date with me.”

Bucky’s nerves take over and he lets out an honest to god giggle. Then he leans forward, closing the gap between them in a soft and shy kiss. “I would l-love to,” he says. “When w-were you th-thinking?”

“Weeell… What are you doing right now?”

“Right n-now?” Bucky laughs. “I don’t even g-get to sh-shower?” he teases.

“Right now,” Steve grins. “You look great. You hungry? We can go get dinner. My treat.”

“D-Dinner sounds lovely,” Bucky says, pressing another kiss to Steve’s lips. “J-Just let me p-put these in water and ch-change real quick.”

Steve groans playfully when Bucky pulls back but he’s laughing. “Fine, fine,” he teases. “If you insist.”