Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1470877.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Captain_America_(Comics), Captain_America_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Steve_Rogers
  Character:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes, Steve_Rogers
  Additional Tags:
      Prostitute_Bucky, Teenager_Bucky, Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting,
      Bottom_Steve
  Series:
      Part 1 of All_Night
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-04-16 Words: 5014
****** All Night ******
by mayalinified
Summary
     Sam had warned him to be careful who he talked to.
     "Prettyboys like you goin’ out alone on that side of town and lookin’
     as sad as you are get attention from a very particular type."
     Prostitutes. He had meant prostitutes.
Notes
     I listened to "Drunk in Love" by Beyonce almost the entire time I
     wrote this so I'm sure you can see where this is going...
     And since I got asked about it. I'll start tagging things "All Night
     Series" when I post excerpts and the like. You're welcome to use that
     tag too if you'd like!
     Now complete with a playlist!!!
     http://8tracks.com/mayalinification/all-night-a-playlist
See the end of the work for more notes
Cigarette smoke always had a way of nestling in the back of his throat so that
it would itch. It was too heavy and hot and full on his tongue, something he
couldn't escape at a bar unfortunately. He’d never taken a puff from one in his
entire life – would have been a death wish when he was sick, and now that he
wasn’t it just seemed foolish and a little ungrateful.
Instead of joining the ranks of the incessant smokers, he nurses a glass of
sticky bourbon. Absentmindedly, he spins the glass back and forth with the tips
of his fingers to create a whirlpool at the bottom. Spinning and spinning and
spinning.
“You know you’re supposed to drink those things I hear.”
The kid, he’s got to be a kid, looks way too young to have taken up residency
in the barstool next to him. He’s got blue eyes that are  wide set and hungry
for everything they can get their gaze on. The brown hair on his head is just a
little too neat for somebody breathing as hard as he is. It's pretty clear he's
been dancing.
But Steve smiles, a genuine and reflex like reaction to any new person he
meets. Pointedly, he takes a drink and raises his eyebrows slightly as he does.
Those blue eyes stay on him, catching the lights as they cycle through. Red to
make violet, green to make aquamarine, blue to make them bluer still.
“And what do you know about drinking these things,” Steve chides around a grin.
He chuckles a bit, letting the glass round its way back to its resting place in
front of him. The kid licks his lips which are thick and blushed from biting,
or at least he assumes. Steve follows his line of sight to his own fingers as
they caress the rim of the glass.
“You saying I’m not old enough to be here?” the kid asks. His eyes flick back
to Steve’s, challenging.
Steve laughs, slow and steeped in alcohol.
“Could be.”
He’s sure as hell not twenty-one. Around eighteen, maybe. Hopefully. Any
younger he might be worried where his parents are. If they know how late it is.
What part of town he’s in with a shirt open as much as it is.
“Could be?” The kid repeats and leans a bit, letting his elbow rest on the
table just next to Steve’s glass. There’s hardly any space between them and
Steve’s neck prickles with sweat.
“Saying you look young is all,” he gives him a smile that’s much shyer than he
would have liked. The kid grins and laughs a bit, putting his hand out on
Steve’s forearm and rubbing his palm over the definition of muscle there. He
glances down, letting his eyelashes fall to his cheeks before looking back up
from underneath them.
“M’name’s Bucky,” he says. And maybe it’s the way he says it or the way his
hand moves, practiced, like he’s done this a million times that makes Steve
think he’s going to be Mr. One Million And One. It’s all abundantly clear why
Bucky is over here talking to him and not flirting with all the other guys he
sees eyeing him from all over the bar. It makes Steve’s mouth go dry.
Sam had warned him to be careful who he talked to. Prettyboys like you goin’
out alone on that side of town and lookin’ as sad as you are get attention from
a veryparticular type.
Prostitutes. He had meant prostitutes.
Still, polite bastard he is, Steve can’t get himself to assume anything. So he
stays, glances twice between the kid – Bucky’s – mouth and eyes before
succeeding to speak. His words are sure, but his smile is crooked and
uncomfortable at the potential of Bucky’s intentions. “Steve.” He says, gives a
curt nod and looks back down at his own arm, where Bucky’s thumb moves over the
inside of his wrist.
“Steve,” he repeats with a smirk. “Are you going to buy me a drink or are you
going to make me beg for it?”
Well, now there isn’t really any denying it now. A subtle blush blooms over
Steve’s cheeks, the prickle on his neck gets harder to ignore. As does the way
Bucky teases at his lips; with his tongue and his teeth to worry them redder
and fuller than they already ought to be.
“You gonna show me some ID?” Steve manages to joke. The smile he gives this
time is more broad and feels more comfortable. Bucky even laughs along,
squeezing Steve’s forearm as he does. It makes Steve smile a little brighter.
“Don’t need to,” he moves even closer, “I’m twenty one.”
“Yeah sure,” he snarks, looking at the kid’s mouth again for a moment.
Bucky’s hand slips away from his forearm and reappears on his thigh. He
squeezes gently, letting his thumb dip inward and then upward, until it teases
almost too high. Steve’s breath comes shorter, cheeks hot, and he lets out a
small gasp when Bucky strokes his thumb even farther towards his crotch.
“I should be offended. I’ll have you know that I’m very trustworthy,” Bucky
teases. His lips roll together for a moment and then purse slightly, demanding
to be kissed.
Steve narrows his eyes, smiling around a partially open mouth. “What are you
doing?”
Bucky laughs, “Oh come on, Stevie, you know what I’m doing.”
The only reason he might believe this kid is actually as old as he says is all
due to the practiced way he moves and speaks. He’s more inclined to believe
him, when the pad of his thumb brushes a line up the front his pants, over his
cock. Reflexively, his lip sucks between his teeth and his eyes shoot down to
his lap to watch how Bucky teases.
“You know I could do more,” he says, soft. “For a price.”
And there it is.
Steve shoots him a look from the corner of his eye with that trace of a smile
still on his parted lips. The kid is honest god propositioning to have sex in
exchange for money. It’s illegal, in this state. His eyes flick to the
bartender and he wonders if the owners know there’s some boy in here
prostituting himself out to random strangers.
Then he’s thinking about how many times he’s done this, how he seems to have
gotten Steve’s attention so quickly, so effortlessly. How many times has this
worked for him? Is he the first one tonight or are his lips so raw from
somebody else’s kisses?
There’s something filthy about that, him being freshly fucked and still asking
for more.
Steve doesn’t know where the hell all these thoughts are coming from but he’s
blushing at the sly smile Bucky gives him. His eyelashes shadow his eyes when
he looks down at his own fingers on Steve’s crotch.
“Well at least a part of you is up for it,” he chuckles. He comes back to
Steve’s face, leaning in slightly. “If you have a wife, she won’t have to know.
Like I said…I’m very trustworthy.”
God it’d been so long.
Steve holds his hand when Bucky leads him to the curb to hail a cab. He shoves
fingers into his mouth and whistles loud, again, with practiced expertise.
Everything about him seems to be that way. Steve laughs, “Impressive. I’ve
never been able to do that.”
Bucky gives a smile that says that’s not the only thing I know how to do.
They end up at some hotel closer to the nicer part of the city, but not
entirely free of the seedy element they leave behind. The neon outside promises
no vacancy, but Bucky walks to the counter with a bright smile. Steve stays
outside and pays the cab, he can see Bucky through the window as he chats with
the middle aged blonde woman who works the front desk.
Their room is on the second floor and before Steve even gets the door shut all
the way Bucky is already reaching up to the back of his neck. He’s a decent
amount taller than the kid so he leans down, expecting him to go in for a kiss
on the mouth. He feels his stomach get light with excitement, nervousness,
something else that he thinks might be the sense that this is wrong and he
should definitely, definitely not be here.
But instead of his lips, he finds Bucky planting a kiss on his jaw, and a whole
new sense of excitement kicks in right down to the deepest part of his stomach.
Bucky's mouth is slick and hot from him constantly playing at his lips with his
tongue. He presses against his neck with that mouth, drawing a ragged out of
breath out of Steve and sending him stumbling slightly forward into the smaller
man. Quickly, he grabs Bucky's shoulders to right himself, dragging them slowly
downward into curve of his waist. He's lean, but muscular, beneath his buttoned
up shirt and Steve allows himself to squeeze a little tighter than he would
normally.
And Christ Bucky likes it a lot more than Steve expects him to. He breathes
out, wet, against the base of his neck and pulls him by his shoulders downwards
towards him. Steve fumbles out behind Bucky, catching the foot-board of the bed
and pressing Bucky against the hard wood. He arches around it, accommodating as
Steve presses into him and forces him to bow his back. Bucky groans and then
bites lightly, just on the underside of Steve's ear.
He hisses and then gasps, "Jesus. Come here."
It must be the alcohol in him that makes him so bold. But here he is already in
some random hotel room with a hooker, so he supposes he's already past the
point of being modest. He reaches up with the hand that isn't supporting him
and grabs Bucky by the chin. His hand is firm as he draws him up to his tiptoes
into a deep kiss, letting his mouth linger and taste the alcohol and smoke and
Bucky.
Bucky is the one to first lick into Steve's mouth, opening their mouths against
one another and slipping his tongue behind Steve's teeth. In return, Steve
can't help but dig his nails in to the smooth skin of Bucky's jaw, realizing,
for a split second, that it's probably not that smooth because he just shaved.
He moans into Steve's mouth, giving Steve the perfect opportunity to press his
tongue inside of it, over Bucky's tongue and against it. As he goes to pull
away Bucky catches it with his lips, sucking on it with a soft pleased noise
and opening his eyes to Steve's face.
He's harder than he wants to be, from just that alone.
"If you let me unpinned from here, I'll do that to your cock."
Bucky practically coos as he speaks, voice too sweet for the words that coat
it. It's wrong as hell, the way he looks with lips so wet from Steve's kisses
and his eyes so bright, eager. Steve swallows hard and steps back, dropping his
hand to his sides. His cheeks are burning and his eyes are steady on Bucky's
mouth, watching him bite at his thick bottom lip and letting it pop back out
from between his teeth.
He gets on his knees in front of Steve, immediately going for his belt and the
button of the nice jeans Natasha had gotten him for Christmas. The zipper gets
stuck sometimes, but Bucky makes an ease of getting them off. Steve doesn't
realize he's holding his breath until he lets out a slow exhale at the feeling
of Bucky's palm pressed firm against him through his briefs.
Steve is looking down at him, reaching out to put his hand in the kid's hair
and comb his fingers through it. He chews on his lip, glancing down at Bucky's
mouth as he leans in. His lips press up against him through the material and
his cock jumps in response. It make's Steve's mouth go completely dry, makes
him tangle his fingers up in his hair and has him pressing his hips forward,
needy.
"You like that?" Bucky asks, through a grin. But he knows the answer and he
swipes his tongue flat against the line of Steve's cock. It makes him groan,
knit his eyebrows together because it feels so good he can hardly stand it.
He's hardly paying attention anymore when Bucky pulls his briefs down and takes
him in his hand. The sensation tenses him up and gets his fingers knotted up in
what used to be Bucky's neat and tidy hair. He pulls at it more when Bucky
swirls his tongue around the head, practically yanks it out of his roots when
he sucks it into his mouth. His lips are downright obscene around the head of
his cock and beneath the surface his tongue works at his slit. Bucky's eyes are
on him, watching with ardor to see how he'll react to him taking him deeper and
deeper until he hits the back of his throat.
Steve's knees buckle when Bucky swallows him because God he's never had
anything so good. 
"Jesus," he whispers hoarsely. There's a smile in Bucky's eyes and he sucks him
down. His head bobs, never taking his gaze from Steve's face like he's afraid
to miss something. The ring of his lips pull a low moan from Steve, building
and building as he gets louder than he's ever been comfortable to be with
another person.
Bucky groans around him and then grabs his hips. He stills himself and then
starts to move Steve for him. Shifting his hips so they fuck into his mouth in
a slow rhythm. It's absolutely uncharted territory for Steve, but the
proclivity he has to match the rhythm Buck sets is impressive even to himself.
With the glint in Bucky's eyes he's encouraged to start moving his hips on his
own, letting himself thrust a little deeper, a little faster. His fingers press
into Bucky's scalp as he holds him still, burying himself as much as he can in
the younger man's mouth and then dragging it back out against the pressure of
his tongue and the suction of his lips.
He loses himself in it, snapping his hips harder as he closes his eyes. It's
not until Bucky gags against him that he even realizes what he's doing. He
looks down at Bucky's face where tears slip down his temples and grimaces at
the sight. Pulling out quickly, he starts to apologize over and over, feeling
his face heat up out of embarrassment for lack of control.
There's spit and precome smeared over the kid's mouth and fuck if Steve can't
look away, despite the situation.
"Don't gotta be sorry," he grins, licking his lips. "You like fucking my face
like that Steve?"
His mouth goes completely dry, eyelids fluttering as he tries desperately to
find something to respond with. He ends up nodding, for lack of hope for any
kind of verbal affirmation.
"Good," Bucky says. "I like it, too." His smile is so damn charming that Steve
is quickly realizing how vulnerable he is to it.
The cool air on Steve's cock, the way Bucky looks to it when it jumps again,
has him completely desperate to touch it. He doesn't have any time to before
Bucky is standing and pushing him towards the bed. Steve steps out of his pants
eagerly, takes off his shoes, and pulls off his shirt before sitting down as
Bucky silently commands.
The kid looks at him, looks him up and down with those hungry eyes and then
smiles even wider.
"They oughta build sculptures of you," he says before looking down. He reaches
into his pocket, throwing packets of lube and a condom to the bedside table. He
doesn't look up again until he's pulling his pants and underwear down to the
floor, getting off his shoes and socks in the process. Steve is relieved to
find Bucky's already hard - a worry he hadn't considered until after the fact.
Bucky gets his shirt off last and smiles down at Steve as he languidly begins
to stroke his own cock. "How do you want me baby?"
The coo in his voice, the filthy way he calls him "baby", the way he purses his
lip like he's so damn innocent in all of this makes Steve want to kiss him
whimpering all over again. 
"I..uh..." he starts. His face is so red, no doubt the blush has spread to his
chest. It's too hard to focus when he's so busy watching Bucky play with
himself right in front of him like he isn't even there - the softness of his
moans hit Steve like punches to the gut.
"I could give a few suggestions," Bucky offers. He cocks his head and smirks,
"This isn't - mmm - your first time is it?"
It's condescending and enraging, but Steve can't find the clarity of mind to
get offended. He bites on his own lip and then lets it go before forcing
himself to look at Bucky's eyes. Only Bucky's eyes.
"No," he confirms. "Just wanted you to...uh...top me is all."
Bucky's eyes go wide, momentarily dropping that seductive exterior for utter
surprise. "Seriously? You want me to fuck you?"
Steve backtracks quickly, rubbing at his neck, "Yeah. Yeah I mean..." It was a
dumb suggestion retrospectively. "I'm up for whatever you want i-"
"No. Shit no!" Bucky saves. He laughs. "You're paying for it. It's what you
want. Just not used to older guys taking me home and wanting me to be the one
bending them over." He takes a breath that says but I digress.
He climbs into Steve's lap and pushes gently at his chest. "You trust me,
Steve?"
"Yes."
That answer comes way too quickly and Bucky laughs.
They end up with Steve on his elbows, sucking Bucky into his mouth with
reserved confidence. He can't get Bucky in too deeply at the angle, but the way
he sloppily licks and mouths at him seems to please him enough. His hips keep
stuttering and eyes keep glazing over as he looks down. But the sign of him
enjoying in the most is when his hand stills as he works Steve open, his arm
stretched behind him and two fingers deep into him.
Every couple of seconds his fingers will stop their rhythm as he works at him,
making Steve moan in protest and him grin in understanding as he starts up
again. 
"Always had a one track mind," he pants. Steve smiles, the head of Bucky's dick
sliding over his teeth and lips. It's dirty as hell, dirtier than anything
Steve has ever done, but he's mad for it. He's so perfect above him, so goddamn
beautiful as he enjoys himself. He might even be the most handsome guy Steve's
ever seen. But maybe that adoration is coming from the way he's fucking his
fingers into him so good that his legs are shaking.
Bucky disappears while Steve has his eyes closed, dragging his lips over him.
When he looks up he sees blue eyes closer to him, peering down as he fits
himself between Steve's legs. The lubricant covered fingers that are still warm
from his own body heat come to push his thigh out and open.
With his free hand Bucky gets the condom on, sliding it over himself and making
him chew on his lip. Steve is so hard it's hinging on uncomfortable, so hard
that he squirms, trying to get more friction where Bucky isn't giving him any.
"Easy, big guy," Bucky laughs. His other hand comes to Steve's other thigh,
holding him open. "Keep spread for me, Steve. Just like that. Let me see how
much you want this dick."
Scratch what he said before. This is dirtier.
He obeys, keeping his legs spread wide and eyes so focused on Bucky's face for
a reaction it almost feels like he's searching for reassurance. Am I good
enough? Do I get him hard enough? Does he want me?
Bucky answers that by running his fingers over Steve's hole, groaning soft,
"You're fucking perfect. You know that?"
Steve's not interested in wondering if Bucky is being honest. He suspends his
disbelief and lets out a soft whine instead.
"Please, Bucky," he whispers before even thinking about what he's doing, that
he's begging. Bucky grins, guiding his head to Steve's entrance, pushing in
with a low grunt and shoving Steve's legs open even wider.
Immediately, Steve cries out, gripping at Bucky's forearms for purchase. He's
shaking, trying to keep himself afloat as the feeling sucks him down and under,
tumbling over himself when Bucky bottoms out with high moan.
"Shit you feel so good," he mumbles, digging his nails into Steve's thighs in a
way that stings but sends goosebumps all over Steve's arms and legs.
Steve breathes through his nose, looking up at Bucky and pleading with his eyes
for more, something, anything. There's so much eye contact. He doesn't expect
there to be as much of it as there's been so far. It makes it more intimate,
more intense. Nothing you think about when somebody is fucking you only cause
you paid them to.
And still, they stare into each other's eyes, both of their jaws dropping and
their mouths making O's as Bucky pumps his hips painfully slow. Steve knows he
couldn't take it any faster but, god he wants it so badly that he's aching for
it.
His hands travel up Bucky's arms to his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss
as Bucky starts to let himself fall into a more rapid tempo. His mouth is
practically slack he's so distracted, that Steve takes the opportunity to raid
it, licking over his tongue and tasting his cock in the younger man's mouth.
They're like that until Bucky lets himself go and somehow it manages to build
so fast that Steve thinks he has whiplash. One moment Bucky is letting himself
be kissed, the next he's bruising Steve's mouth. One second he's going gentle
with Steve, the next he's snapping his hips so hard that their skin slaps
together almost painfully. 
Steve can't help put press his fingertips into Bucky's back for some semblance
of an anchor. He feels like he might fall away from himself, feels like he
might come too soon with the way Bucky has his body approaching a limit he
didn't even know he had.
"Shit," he groans out and the curse makes Bucky laugh breathlessly.
He presses his mouth, hot, against Steve's ear and lets him hear his moans
before the space of the room has the chance to steal them.
"I'm gonna fucking come, Steve," he says, making it sound more like a plead
than anything else. "Can't hold off. Gonna... oh shit."
And it's because Steve's already there, clenching his muscles around him as he
goes tense all over. Things get still, things press away from him and then
swell all at once back into him as he spills all over his own tightened
stomach. Bucky looks down between them, looking at him, his mouth just as still
and permanently open in shock, frozen over with pleasure.
He pulls out of Steve so fast that it aches and pulls off the condom. It
doesn't take more then two strokes before he's coming on to Steve's stomach,
too. 
Steve is still dazed, too spent. But he catches that look on Bucky's face as he
comes. Closed eyes and flushed cheeks, mouth thick and red and raw and still
covered with spit from Steve's kisses.
He falls onto Steve's chest, back bowed so he won't get messy but with his
forehead pressed under his chin for comfort. Steve's hand is shaking slightly
as he brings it to the back of his head.
"Goddamn," Bucky mumbles. Kissing where he can reach.
They stay like that for a long time, but it's so comfortable to Steve that his
eyes start to droop closed. He expects Bucky to be doing the same, but he's
much too preoccupied with kissing over Steve's chest for that to be true. Then
he's moving downward. Downward still until his lips drift over the come on
Steve's stomach. He glances up as he drags his tongue over it, looking Steve in
the eye as it collects in his mouth. The blonde goes entirely still, hand
hovering over Bucky's hair almost like he's too afraid to disturb him and have
him stop. God forbid. 
He starts panting again, sure he can't manage to get hard again so soon, but
Jesus does his body try.
Bucky gets him clean and then he swallows, grinning as he does. Then he rolls
to lie next to Steve, curling up on his side and pulling Steve to do the same.
They both share a quiet laugh, Bucky more jovial than Steve is by far - Steve
is laughing nervous, the reality of the situation settling in as the
spontaneity and fever start rushing out. 
"How old are you?" Steve asks, throat contracting slightly so it makes it
harder for him to talk. He's nervous to ask, but the question needs asking.
He's sweat out the alcohol now, but it lingers in the way his body seems to
pulse with every heartbeat in the most delicious way. Or maybe that's just the
orgasm. 
Bucky looks from Steve's chest to his eyes and grins. He looks exhausted now;
his eyelids closing slightly and his mouth is slack and begging for Steve to
kiss it again. He doesn't, kiss it,  though, so he can hear what Bucky has to
say.
"Well how old are you?" He shoots back.
Steve's eyebrows furrow slightly, "Twenty-five."
Bucky lets out a short laugh, rolling onto his back and looking at the ceiling
for a moment. He lets his head loll to the side, eyes meeting Steve's again.
"Trust me, Steve, for your own peace of mind? Let's just say I'm younger than
you."
That answer is more unsettling than any direct answer he could have given, but
Steve appreciates it. He inches his body closer, still lying on his side. He's
reluctant to reach out and put a hand on Bucky's bare and sweat-slick chest, as
much as he wants to. The action is a little too intimate, he thinks, for Bucky,
but entirely desirable.
He compromises in letting his knuckles brush Bucky's ribs.
"How'd you get into this?" He asks, looking down at his own hand where the skin
meets skin, still feverish. When he looks up again Bucky is watching him with a
lazy smirk.
"You know pillow talk is extra," he teases, and Steve can tell he's half-
serious.
Bucky stretches, yawns, and moves immediately away from Steve's touch to stand
beside the bed. He looks down at where Steve still rests, on his side, and
grins. His fingers desperately attempt to smooth his damp hair. "You oughta go.
You can just leave the money on the table. Twenty bucks less than I said before
since you didn't...y'know...fuck me and all."
He's smiling and Steve would feel like it was some cold transaction of goods
for services if it weren't for that warm smile. Bucky excuses himself, walking
towards the bathroom.
Steve blurts out before he can really stop himself, sitting up in bed stick
straight.
"Where can I find you if I want to see you again?"
Bucky is in the door frame by the time Steve asks and he pauses there, leaning
against it for a moment before turning around to look at him. He's glorious
like that, smooth skin and lean muscle. Just that touch of chest hair on his
sternum and dusting below his belly button. 
"That good, Steve?" he grins, catching his lip between his teeth as he does.
God that mouth.
Steve smiles back eventually, chuckling and rubbing at his neck. "That good,
Buck."
Bucky's eyebrows quirk at the nickname and then he laughs. Quickly he makes his
way to the desk, bending over it and giving Steve a show of his ass as he does.
He turns back to him and walks to the bed, handing him a ripped piece of hotel
stationary. He's scribbled a set of digits, a dash to connect it to a loopy
capital B that Steve recognizes as the closest thing he'd ever get to a
signature from him.
"That's my number," he says. "Try not to call me during the day unless it's an
emergency. I charge extra from emergencies."
Steve wants to believe that's because of him holding another job somewhere. He
doesn't think he could stomach any other scenario he could imagine.
Bucky looks down at him, smiling still, and it's clear he's considering it for
a while before leaning down to kiss Steve on the mouth. Steve tips his chin up,
lets his hand climb to the back of Bucky's neck and sighs against his mouth as
their tongues brush over each other's again. When Bucky pulls away, Steve finds
himself leaning into the kiss so much that he falls forward slightly.
He's off by the bathroom again by the time Steve gets his eyes open. He feels
ridiculous and desperate to try and  keep Bucky around as long as he can.
"Hey, one more thing."
Bucky spins on his heel, rolls his eyes in a playful way and then shakes his
head, "Yeah?"
"Is Bucky your real name?"
The kid laughs, tipping his head back a bit. He shakes his head and walks into
the bathroom. Steve can hear him as he shuts the door. "Careful asking so many
questions about me, Steve. I'll start to think you have a crush."
As he walks out to hail a cab down the street, the paper with Bucky's number
burning a hole in his pocket, he hopes to God that he doesn't.
End Notes
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