Third one of the NWY ficlets~
Steve spends the entire ride mentally cursing at Sam for making him do this. He curses at Sam as he parks his scooter and grabs the pizza boxes, and for the entire climb up the stairs, but when he hears the “Clint, the pizza’s here!” and the door to the apartment finally opens, he outright vows to murder him.
Send your cutest delivery boy, the order had said. And yes, maybe it wasn’t a request he was supposed to take seriously, but standing in front of this man, Steve’s feeling miles more inadequate than he already was while trying to convince Sam to send anyone but him. The guy’s downright stunning, with shoulder-length, soft-looking hair, piercing icy-blue eyes, and a jawline so sharp it could cut diamonds. His arms are bigger than Steve’s waist, and he’s got a hint of stubble that Steve wishes he could feel everywhere on his skin.
“Delivery for Bucky Barnes?” he says, voice squeaky, and he can already feel his cheeks heating up. Yep, he’s killing Sam, and then he’s moving out of the country because he can’t risk ever running into this man again. He probably has some aunt or third cousin left somewhere in Ireland still.
For a few seconds the man just stares at him, mouth slightly agape and making it very clear that Steve’s not what he was expecting—big fucking surprise. Thank you, Sam—, but when the apology’s already on the tip of Steve’s tongue, the guy huffs out a disbelieving laugh and says, “Whoa… can’t believe that worked.”
“I’m sorry, I was the only one available,” Steve blurts out, mortified and blushing down to his toes and oh god, he can’t possibly have meant that, can he, and he all but shoves the pizza boxes into the man’s very impressive arms.
“Dude, are you shitting me,” the guy says, taking the boxes from Steve and licking his lips as he lets his gaze roam over Steve’s body. “I wrote that as a joke, but man I should’ve asked sooner. Hey, what’s your name?”
His smile as he hands him the money is playful and sincere and charming all at once.
“Steve,” Steve replies, his own lips curling up on their own accord and barely managing not to stutter. It makes the man—Bucky—perk up, and seriously, no one should be this adorable and sexy at the same time. The guy’s just plain disarming and Steve needs to leave right away because he’s one wrong inhale away from dying an embarrassing, asthma-induced death.
“Well, Steve,” he starts, winking at him, “my roommate happens to think pizza is the greatest invention since the bow and arrow, and Darlene’s is the best joint in the area by far, sooo… we’ll be ordering a lot from you guys. I hope I’ll see you around?”
It’s his tone that does it. Hopeful and slightly shy. Tentative when Steve would’ve pegged him for someone full of confidence. Steve takes a step forward as he pulls a sharpie from his pocket, and scribbles down his phone number on a pizza box before he can stop to think about what he’s doing.
“Call me when you want to order. I’ll, um, get you a discount,” he says. He’s pretty sure you could boil an egg on his face right now, but he goes on. “I’m off on Thursdays, but you can call me anyway…”
Bucky’s bright, ear-to-ear grin is definitely worth the embarrassment.