Please please please remember fruit bats as October approaches please I'm begging you it will be so funny if AO3 gets inundated with fruit bat vampires for Halloween
Bucky smells the vampire approaching the bar before he senses them. They have a distinct aroma, like prey that sets his hackles up. "We're out of all AB and A negative, so if you want blood, I can only offer you O, B, and A positive," he says, not turning from putting new bottles on the back bar. They'd had a surprise hen night. Harpies liked their drinks strong. Steve had to refill the kegs twice.
"Oh, um," the vampire answers after a moment. "I just wanted a piña colada."
Bucky blinks at the bottles once, then blinks again, harder, just to be sure. Finally, he turns, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "A piña colada?" he repeats, skeptical, just before his eyes land on the vampire in question.
He understands immediately upon seeing him. His fangs don't drop when Bucky makes eye contact with him, although he does stand straighter when he realizes Bucky is a werewolf. His eyes don't flash red, either. He keeps his head tipped forward, looking up at him through his lashes, but not in a way that says he's on the hunt. A fruit bat. He's seeing an honest to God fruit bat in his bar.
"...I didn't see a 'no bat' sign," the vampire adds hesitantly.
Bucky immediately leaned in, leering at him. "I don't discriminate, doll," he drawls, low and slow, and is delighted when the vampire's cheeks flush a pretty pink.
"Sounds like you're coming on to me," the vampire jokes, scratching his cheek.
"He is," Steve says flatly, slamming a highball glass down on the counter in front of the vampire. "Here, Tony. On the house for Bucky's assumption."
"Oh, thank you," Apparently Tony replies, taking the glass in both hands. He points at the corner booth. "And the rest want a pitcher of beer and a pitcher of margarita."
"I'll bring them by," Steve agrees, then grabs Bucky by the scruff and yanks him back from the bar. "Tony doesn't do casual," he growls, teeth going sharp in warning.
"Gran's been mentioning an arranged mating so this as good a time as any to settle down," Bucky says, because Steve hadn't turned him in a way that kept him from admiring the vampire's shapely rear.
"Make the margaritas," Steve barks, shaking him, before grabbing another pitcher to fill with beer. "And Tony's drink is coming out of your tips, just so you know."
"You know I can't stand tequila you are punishing me enough," Bucky hisses. He hears a laugh that makes his stomach flutter and turns, choking back a whine when he sees that Tony has thrown his head back and his neck is one long line of need-to-be-nibbled skin. "Fuck." His hackles are rising for a completely different reason and it's embarrassing.
"Make the pitcher," Steve growls, and there's an edge to it that makes him want to flash his belly in submission.
"Yeah okay," Bucky sighs miserably, grabbing down a bottle of top shelf.
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