He smiles and meets Steve’s eyes as they greet, seemingly not one tiny bit intimidated by his Captain Americanness. Not that Steve would want him to be, but considering how most introductions tonight have gone, he’s sort of come to expect the stuttering and the shaky hands and deer-in-the-headlights stares.
But the boy’s smile is polite and easy, his whole demeanor, despite his young age, chill and confident. Something in those winter storm-blue eyes, in fact, is making Steve feel like this is some sort of challenge.
He introduces himself as Bucky, personal assistant to one of Tony’s business acquaintances--Steve can’t even remember the guy’s name. Graham, maybe?--, and he’s not actually a boy, but he definitely looks like he’s on the young side. Early twenties, maybe, but he’s not drinking anything, so there’s nothing to clue Steve in. Too young to be here in any case.
He’s almost as tall as Steve, and he’s got the kind of lithe figure that’s perfectly balanced between grace and strength. The black suit he’s wearing isn’t particularly fancy, but the way it hugs his body in all the right places more than makes up for it. His long, dark hair is slicked back, and he’s got a jawline that could cut diamonds.
He’s absolutely fucking gorgeous.
Steve spends the entire 15 minutes Tony and him stay talking to Bucky and his boss trying not to stare at the guy too much. It shouldn’t be this hard. Not when Steve barely even knows him and the kid might as well be 10 years younger than Steve himself. And yet Steve’s finding it impossibly difficult to focus on anything but him.
Every now and then, usually when his boss is trying to participate in the conversation and Tony’s preoccupied with roasting him, Bucky’s eyes drift back to Steve’s and he shoots him a quick smirk.
Steve still feels like he’s being dared, but to what exactly, he’s not sure.
x
The next time he sees Bucky is later that night. He’d been trying to find some empty room, needing a breather, only to walk around a corner and find Bucky with his head thrown back in pleasure and his boss’ hand down his pants.
Steve completely freezes, and for a few moments, instead of bolting, just stands there staring at them like a creep, his body a whirlwind of emotions all of a sudden: Shame. Reluctant curiosity. Protectiveness--the guy could be Bucky’s father, christ--. Anger. Want.
Maybe-Graham’s got Bucky shoved against a wall and is busy mouthing at the kid’s throat, back turned to Steve, but Bucky’s eyes fall right on Steve.
Rather than let Steve’s presence discourage him though, his moans only seem to get louder. He looks at Steve straight in the eye and smirks, letting out another lewd sound as he does, entirely on purpose, and oh, there’s that challenge again. That fierce, impish glint in his eye. Steve swallows around the lump in his throat and licks his lips unconsciously, and that makes Bucky’s smile wider.
A few moments later he’s coming, letting his head fall back against the wall with a thump and wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulder for support as his whole body spasms. The picture he makes will haunt Steve’s dreams forever.
x
“Saw something you liked?” Bucky asks, stepping out into the balcony and coming to stand next to Steve. He looks sinfully disheveled, and Steve can’t help the way it does things to him. It’s been… god, it’s been too long.
“Maybe,” he says. It’s a fucking understatement and they both know it. “You’re dating your boss? Isn’t he a bit… too old for you?”
Bucky snorts. “It’s not dating, it’s work.” Steve shoots him a questioning look, so he elaborates. “I’m an escort. He paid me to come with him.”
“He… oh,” Steve says like an idiot. He can feel the blush creeping up his neck, and mentally curses at his irish complexion. “Um, I don’t--I didn’t know you were… Why?”
Bucky shrugs. “Life ain’t cheap. Can’t get a proper job til I’m done with college, and this pays the bills,” he says, then bumps his shoulder into Steve’s playfully. “Not something Captain America would approve, huh?”
Steve thinks back to the forties. To the men that’d frequent the docks searching for a very specific kind of fun, and to the couple times he couldn’t make ends meet and rent was due soon.
“You’d be surprised,” he tells him.
Bucky quirks an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t ask further. “So?” he asks after a moment.
“So, what?” Steve says like he can’t see exactly where the kid is going.
“So, is there anything you’d like from me? I bet world-saving is hella stressful,” he all but purrs, tone dropping. “I could help you relax…” He sprawls back against the railing as he speaks, a gesture that seems casual and only accidentally enticing, but that Steve is sure is fully conscious, designed to lure him in.
It damn near works. This kid is so stunning it’s dangerous.
“N-No, I…” he tries. “You’re a kid!”
“I’m 22,” he says, and waves a hand like it’s not big deal. Jesus. “And most people get off on that, actually.” Steve’s saved from having to come up with a reply to that by Bucky’s phone going off. “Gotta go,” Bucky tells him, glancing at the screen. “Duty calls. But here--”
He pulls out his wallet and digs out a white card with nothing but a phone number on it. He hands it to Steve.
“Call me,” he says, winking at him. “And I’ll show you a few fun things about the future.”
And with that, he’s gone.
Steve stands there awkwardly for 10 minutes before he manages to process what just happened and can move again. He looks down at the card he’s still holding, runs his thumb over the digits, blushes a bit more… and pockets it.
x
He almost calls Bucky about a dozen times.
He ends up chickening out every single one of them.
x
Steve will never admit that the reason he’s been accepting more of Pepper’s invitations to galas and events is that he lowkey hopes he’ll see Bucky again. Out loud anyway. No point denying it to himself.
On the fourth one, he gets lucky.
“Bucky,” he breathes out through a smile when he spots the kid walking up to him, surprised to see him even when he’d been looking for him, and also suddenly nervous. “Hi!”
The kid seems pleased that he remembers him. “Hey,” he says, smiling that million-dollar smile of his that makes Steve want to throw caution to the wind and make a mess out of his perfectly smoothed-out clothes. “Nice to see you here, these things can get pretty boring.”
Steve’s brow furrows. “You here alone? I didn’t think Tony would invite Graham again.”
“Nah, he didn’t,” Bucky replies. “Came with someone else. He told me to mingle. He likes watching me talk and flirt with other people from across the room.” He smirks, and it makes Steve’s mouth go dry. “He’ll probably lose his shit if he sees me talking to you, I’m gonna have to tell him I prefer him over Captain America. He’s gonna have the orgasm of his life.”
“Do you?” Steve can’t stop himself from asking.
Bucky eyes him for a moment before replying. “I prefer people who pay me,” he says pointedly. Steve goes to open his mouth, but Bucky cuts him off. “But if the both of you paid… I’d very much prefer you,” he finishes, letting his eyes trail down Steve’s body and back up again.
Bucky bites his lip, teasing, and Steve huffs out a shaky breath.
“I could,” he tells the kid, because he knows he’s being dared, and Steve’s never seen a cliff that scared him too much to take the leap. “Pay you. I could hire you.”
Bucky’s smile gets wider at that. “A wholesome boy such as you?” he teases. “No, you can’t. You wouldn’t.”
As if to prove his point he takes a step further into Steve’s space, raises his hand to Steve’s face, and tips his chin up. His lips are slightly parted, and he’s staring right into Steve’s eyes. It's the unmistakable prelude to a kiss. Steve’s pulse is hammering in his ears, and he’s excited and terrified and thrilled and oh god, they’re in the middle of a ballroom, and--
Bucky leans in the tiniest bit, and Steve can’t help but take a small step back.
It’s nerves. Instinct. A reflex reaction, born out of a lifetime of battles and lack of habit or romantic interactions. It’s Bucky moving too fast and Steve wanting this too desperately. It’s most definitely not out of concern over people seeing them, but that’s how Bucky takes it anyway. He straightens up, never really having intended to kiss Steve, and grins like he’s won some competition. “See? Told ya. Captain America wouldn’t let himself be seen around the likes of me.”
That smug smile is still plastered on his face, but Steve could swear there’s a hint of disappointment in Bucky’s eyes.
“That’s not--” he tries to protest, but Bucky takes a quick look at his phone and is already moving to walk away from him.
“Sorry, gotta bolt,” he tells him. He raises his hand to his forehead to salute at Steve, and then turns to leave as he finishes, “Nice to see you, Steve.”
x
Steve definitely plans to call Bucky after that, but pesky supervillians seem to have other plans for him.
x
“I’m gonna start thinking you’re following me.”
Steve turns so quickly when he hears the words he almost bumps right into Bucky. Bucky chuckles softly and raises his palms up, like he’s shielding himself from Steve.
“Maybe it’s you who’s following me,” Steve retorts, smiling at him.
“Dammit. You got me,” Bucky says. “How about I treat you to a drink as an apology?” He asks, gesturing towards the bar and leading the way.
Steve laughs. “There’s an open bar, jerk,” he tell him, but follows Bucky anyway as he saunters away.
“Did you come with someone, or…?” Steve asks after the second drink.
It’s none of his business, really, and Steve’s not sure he even wants to know. But the previous times Bucky’d barely stuck around for 10 minutes before needing to go meet his client, so when time passes and Bucky makes no move to leave, he can’t help but wonder. Not that Steve minds him staying. Not in the least.
“Miss Potts sent me an invite,” Bucky says, smiling smugly at Steve. “They seem to be under the impression that you enjoy my company.”
“I do enjoy your company,” Steve tells him right away, tone earnest.
Bucky waves his hand in a whatever sort of gesture. “How would I know? You don’t seem interested in enjoying it fully.”
Steve doesn’t reply.
He eyes Bucky for a good two minutes, his gaze heavy, until Bucky starts to shuffle a bit on his feet.
“It’s--” Bucky starts saying, but then Steve’s pushing him past the bar and around the nearest corner, and pinning him to the wall.
“You think I’m not interested?” Steve asks incredulously. “Have you looked at yourself?” Bucky seems to have been stunned into silence, his mouth slightly agape with surprise, and it’s too big a temptation to pass up. Steve goes on, “Here, allow me to demonstrate just how fucking interested I am.” And he leans in to kiss Bucky’s lips.
They don’t close their eyes as they kiss. Steve claims Bucky’s mouth staring right into those stormy blue eyes, meeting his challenge, and Bucky’s wide-eyed expression tells Steve that he hasn’t missed how, half-hidden from the other guests or not, they’re still very much in public.
That Captain America is making out with a male escort in public.
The kiss is bruising, bordering on angry, and when Steve pulls back Bucky’s out of breath, but he still doesn’t wait until he’s recovered to take a step further and draw Steve back in by the lapels of his suit.
“Hire me for the night,” he breathes out right against Steve’s lips.
Steve nods curtly. “Spend the night with me, Buck.”
