Hi lil bae can you write a lil prompt about Steve and Bucky arguing over the proper way to eat modern foods because tbh if I came back from essentially the dead I would be v confused about cupcakes and sushi.
omg that’s so cute. here’s my (lousy) attempt, i hope you like it 💕
“This is useless.”
He watches the third pair of broken chopsticks drop uselessly onto the table, watches Bucky reach for the container and retrieve a fourth.
Steve sighs.
He glances around the cramped sushi restaurant and catches the waitress looking over toward their table with an irked look that says she meant that one broken pair was okay, but maybe not twenty.
Sighing again, Steve looks back at Bucky, whos face is scrunched up a little in concentration, eyebrows drawing closer, mouth pursing, hand straining to hold them right, then – snap.
Bucky groans and tosses the ruined chopsticks down. Steve seizes the container, sliding it away and over to his side of the table before Bucky has the chance to get his hands on another pair.
That earns him a frustrated huff.
“You can eat with your hands,” Steve tells him. “Look around. Other people are doing it.”
Bucky does, looks around them sourly, back at Steve, then down to his pile of chopsticks.
“No,” he grumbles, reaching toward the container, only for it to slide further out of his reach. “The lady said we’re supposed to use these things.”
It’s Steve’s turn to huff, setting his own, intact pair of chopsticks down and picking up a piece of the sushi roll on the plate between them with his fingers, showing it to Bucky and putting it in his mouth.
He chews pointedly at Bucky until his confidence falters and he pulls a bit of a face, stopping.
He’s polite, so he doesn’t spit it out.
He chews it up despite the… strange, to say the least, flavor and texture, and swallows.
Bucky’s watching him, a strong brow quirked delicately, one corner of his mouth drawing up.
“Stop it,” Steve mutters, which only serves to make Bucky to grin.
“Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re not doing it right,” he suggests cheekily, and Steve blinks.
“Fine, smart guy.” He picks up his chopsticks again and plucks up another piece of sushi deftly, the skill having come easily to him, which he supposes is probably the reason Bucky is trying to hard.
He lifts the piece of sushi and reaches across the table to hold it in front of Bucky’s lips.
The brunet pauses, gives Steve an unreadable look and opens his mouth slowly, allows himself to be fed.
Unlike Steve, Bucky seems to thoroughly enjoy the sushi, and reaches for another piece with his hand, which Steve shoos away.
“Hey, I thought you said we had to use these?” He clicks the chopsticks together at Bucky before getting another piece, repeating the process, bringing it to Bucky’s lips.
Bucky rolls his eyes at him but bites it, smiles at him around his new mouthful.
Eventually he flounders under Steve’s unwavering gaze and attention, waving his hands at him. “Stop giving me the eyes.”
“What eyes?”
“Those eyes.”
“I dunno what you’re talking about.” Steve smiles. Bucky sighs, hunches his shoulders in defeat. Ultimately, he lets Steve keep feeding him until there’s nothing left.
After Bucky eats a decent sized glob of the ‘green stuff’, goes red and chokes, he decides he’s had enough; they pay, and leave.
Steve orders pizza from the joint next to their building, the familiar food a little easier on his, er, thoroughly uncultured pallet.
He cuts a piece of pizza into bite sized pieces with a fork and knife just to irk Bucky, just to see him visibly strain not to comment. But eventually he gives in and complains about how it’s weird, and they both end up laughing until their sides ache.
