#atb extras

The fact that the Avengers facilities were by and large Stark productions made things easier, as did the fact that - against all odds - they all seemed to still like each other.  And so group sparring sessions became a thing: even those who weren’t active in the crime-fighting business still needed to stay in shape, and mixed martial arts against super soldiers and other kickass enhanced individuals made for a hell of a cardio routine.  From sparring sessions monthly movie nights became a thing as well, where any Avengers past and present who were free were welcome to swing by Avengers tower for obscene amounts of take-out and whatever terrible cinematic marvels the group felt up to at the time.  Then there were birthdays, which Tony always pretended to not be aware of but also consistently threw enormous shindigs for, and charity events, and retreats to the upstate facility just for the hell of it.

And then, of course, there were the holiday parties.

The thing was, none of them exactly had families anymore, at least not in the conventional sense - Tony was pretty sure that most of Sam’s were still alive and well, and he knew that he made a point of seeing them whenever he could, but he’d also been adopted by the rest of them who really only had each other.  So Tony made a point out of making huge to-dos out of the traditional ‘family’ events, pestering the twins and the widows into American traditions so they wouldn’t feel left out and throwing random European festivals into the mix (he got them wrong, Tony was sure of it, but they seemed to appreciate the attempt all the same).

And for the non-traditional holidays… well, who didn’t like an excuse to throw a killer party?

Halloween was no different - Tony had FRIDAY begin texting the entire group about it starting the first of October, with the messages growing increasingly persistent as any members failed to RSVP.  Everyone was to attend, and all were to come in costume - or be forced to wear whatever outfit Tony had picked for them.  To his surprise, the entire group seemed to be legitimately excited about the proposal, confirming early and talking about their plans at sparring sessions as October progressed.  

The only ones who failed to share with the class were Bucky and Steve - a fact that might have made Tony worry that they would bail on him earlier in their relationship, but instead just had him puzzling more and more over what it was that they were trying to hide.  The three of them had actually grown closer since leaving the Avengers and moving to New York, so he did trust that they would come, and given how well the team grandpas were settling in to modern-day Brooklyn, he trusted that they would dress up as asked.

The night of the party finally came, and the penthouse of the tower looked incredible when the guests began arriving.  One Avenger after another came through the door, each with a costume that was better than the lasts’ (save Tony, whose Sherlock Holmes costume had been made by the actual costume designers for the last movie and was not going to be topped); but as the night went on, two notable absences began to weigh on Tony’s mind.  He didn’t try to contact either Barnes or Rogers, not wanting to look too desperate, but the fact that they weren’t showing had Tony both worried and hurt.  He’d thought that they were on good terms; hell, they’d had dinner together on a double date the night before, and it wasn’t at all like them to ditch.

Finally, after the party had been in full-swing for a couple of hours, an uproarious commotion at the door announced the arrival of their last expected guests.  Tony made his way towards the cackling group, figuring that it had to do with Steve and Bucky getting a look at Sam’s ridiculous MC Hammer get-up, but when he caught sight of the two in the doorway Tony’s brain ground to a halt (an impressive feat, given the fact that he could only remember such a thing happening a handful of times in his entire life).

Steve looked positively ridiculous, dressed in a tight onesie pajama version of his old battle gear; Tony guessed that it had been modeled after his World War II outfit, maybe even based on the comics design… it was hard to say, given how difficult it was to focus on anything other than how tight and thin the fabric was, and the shit-eating grin that Rogers had as he donned it anyway.  But the real scene-stealer, and obvious culprit for how damned late the two of them were, was Bucky.

Bucky, who actually had Natasha in tears with his plastic tommy gun and domino mask, having somehow found a version of his outfit from the comics that could actually fit him… barely.  The thing was, the comics had decided that Bucky Barnes was the perfect name for a teen sidekick, much to Barnes’ consternation.  Usually he grumbled darkly whenever someone brought the design up - but tonight he stood there all too proud to wear the ridiculously tight blue pea coat with obscenely tight blue shorts (seriously; Tony was sure that if it hadn’t been for the red tights underneath them America’s second-most famous WWII vet would have been arrested for indecent exposure on his way into the tower).

“Sorry we’re late, Tony,” Bucky said affably once they’d finally made their way through the crowd at the door to the bar that Tony was still standing in front of, reaching over and clapping Tony on the shoulder as the buttons of his jacket visibly strained with the motion - Tony put the likelihood of them actually making it through the night at somewhere around ten percent, given how the bulk of Bucky’s chest and arms had them barely hanging on in the first place.  “Stevie lost the damned frisbee that came with his outfit,” he continued, drawing Tony’s attention away from his chest, “and then we both got a little held up with wardrobe malfunctions…”

The second he said it, Tony noticed the safety pins holding up the right shoulder of Steve’s top, and the enormous run in Bucky’s tights… not to mention the yellowing bruises on both of their necks.  “You guys are late because you got sidetracked dirty role-playing yourselves?” He squeaked incredulously, unable to stop himself as his brain went back into hyper-drive putting it back together.

Bucky tipped his head back in raucous laughter like the jerk Steve always said he could be.  “What can I say, Stark?” He chuckled, “I’ve always liked a man in uniform - especially that one.”

Tony was still trying to come up with a response to that (being speechless twice in a five minute span was uncomfortable and out of character and so much that even Barnes looked a little concerned about him) when a clap of thunder on the top of the tower indicated that Thor had been able to make it, after all.  Bucky thumped him on the shoulder, murmuring something about dating and makin’ time and not being surprised before hustling off to greet the rest… not that Tony could exactly blame him, knowing that Thor had probably brought mead with him and none of the other drinks at the bar had a prayer of getting either Bucky or Steve the slightest bit tipsy.

While the party continued to pick up around him, Tony still found himself having trouble completely coping with the Cap and Bucky situation… he was happy for his friends, of course, but seeing the two of them get progressively handsier as the mead flowed and the night went on only continued adding to his sense of unease.  He’d seen them be sweet on each other plenty of times before, and God knew they both deserved it, but something about the setting continued to leave him at ease.

“What has you over here clutching your pearls,” Pepper asked a couple of hours later, sidling up next to him at the bar and throwing her strawberry curls over her shoulder as she waited for her drink.

Tony took a moment to appreciate her Jessica Rabbit costume - he was flummoxed, but he wasn’t blind yet - before shrugging and nodding towards where Steve and Bucky were dancing in one of the corners.  “I just… wasn’t expecting that to happen, I suppose.”

Pepper frowned and followed Tony’s eyeline.  Tony started wondering how he could convince Bucky to let him see his costume when the night was over, to test what the hell it was made out of; he had to know what cheap fabric could have that kind of tensile strength, given how much strain the shorts were under but continued to hold up to the super soldiers’ dancing.

“Steve and Bucky?”  Pepper finally asked, obviously confused as she turned back to Tony, interrupting his train of thought.  “What about them?”

“I mean, I know Nat mentioned them asking about couples costumes, I just hadn’t expected,” he shrugged again, unable to keep his eyes from bugging as Bucky grinded suggestively against Steve’s front.

“The two of them to come out and have a good time?”  Pepper asked amusedly.  “It isn’t exactly like they’ve kept their relationship secret, and given the fact that tonight was supposed to be about friends and drinks and loosening up…”

“I know,” Tony interrupted her.  “And yes, I know they have sex, you don’t need to patronize me with it,” he continued, before she could throw it at him.  “I just figured - I mean, I never thought about it before - but I figured it would be nothing more than lights out, blinds closed, behind closed bedroom doors.  Nothing this - blatant.”

“Tony,” Pepper started, a smile slowly spreading across her face, “you know their bodies don’t know they’re in their nineties - why would you expect them to act like it?”

The only answer that he could come up with was an exaggerated shrug; in reality, there was still a part of him, no matter how close he became to the two, that would never be able to separate Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes from his dad’s stories.  Which meant it was a hell of a lot easier to think of the two of them as relics from his father’s time, and not the pair of barely-thirty-year-olds that were technically a full decade younger than Tony and entirely expected to be acting their age at a party.  

At the same time that he was thinking about it, Steve through his head back, laughing hysterically at something that Bucky had said and pulling him closer as the song ended.  It hit Tony like a brick, realizing how young he looked - how young he actually was - and he knew it would be awhile before his brain was fully able to accept the fact.

But it didn’t mean he couldn’t be happy for his friends, all the same.

“What do you say we go show them how it’s done?” He finally asked instead, holding his hand out for Pepper to take.

Pep finished the sip of her drink that she’d been taking, before giving Tony a mischievous little grin of her own.  “You’re sure we can keep up with them, old man?”

“Oh, now we have to…” Tony responded with a laugh, pulling her in for a kiss before leading her across the room to join up with his friends.

Ooooh boy, okay - chapter 2.  From the first time I considered actually putting myself through writing the fic I knew that I wanted Bucky to lose his arm, it was just a matter of trying to work out how in regards to having him on the Valkyrie and getting frozen with Steve, but being able to explain how the rest of his body would survive an injury that would cost him a limb.

And then I remembered how thrilling the whole fight in the hangar bay was, and thought - hey... add an extra person to the mix, especially one who would be trying to call attention away from Steve (and who HYDRA very likely still has its eyes on, at least to an extent), and it only makes sense that someone would end up getting injured in a fire fight, right?  Plus, I figured medically a vascular injury would make the most sense for Bucky’s arm being permanently damaged - the serum in their blood is what allows them to survive being frozen, so if Bucky’s arm loses its blood supply prior to being iced, then it would die/freeze/age the same way any other human tissue would.

So yeah, that’s the story behind the gunshot.  It also had the added benefit of putting Steve into berzerker mode and forcing him to face Red Skull alone, since I figured if they both were to have faced him they probably wouldn’t have ended up crashing.

Anyway - Bucky gets injured, Steve goes on to face the Red Skull, the same as he did in the movie... and then Bucky drags himself into the main cabin just in time to watch the Tesseract do its thing.  I couldn’t resist letting Bucky see what the Cosmic Cube could do, although part of me wishes he could have been around it when he wasn’t in shock, because I think the portal would have thrown him into a nerd-out of epic proportions.  Alas.

Their initial bickering about what to do with the plane was my attempt at a tiny bit of comic relief in the middle of angstville, especially since I knew there wouldn’t be much reprieve for at least a few chapters and I didn’t want to chase readers away so early.  And then, of course, Bucky asking Steve to save himself, only for Steve to turn him down, was an obvious call-back to the escape from Kreischberg; I couldn’t resist giving Steve the opportunity to return the sentiment, especially when their situation was so dire.

Text To:  Nat   Sent:  13:42

I need to ask you a big favor, meet me for coffee Thursday AM?  We can get those tie-dye bagels if you want.

For as much as Natasha and Sam (and Clint and Pietro and Tony, for that matter) all liked teasing Steve and Bucky for all of the quirky fads that seemed to call Brooklyn home, they sure as hell seemed to like the weird fad food creations that never failed to confuse Steve.  That said, strange as he found them all, Steve wasn’t above using them to his advantage.

Text From:  Nat   Received: 13:46

sure, don’t forget the funfetti cream cheese.  meet in the park by the VA at 10?

Steve decided he didn’t want to know how Natasha knew when and where his therapy sessions were for the week.

Text To:  Nat   Sent:  13:46

Sounds good.  Please don’t tell Buck

Text From:  Nat    Received: 13:47

include the biggest vanilla latte you can find and you’ve got a deal ;x

Steve sighed and closed his message app - he was in for a long morning.

All the same, he kept up his end of the bargain that Thursday, going out of his way to pick up breakfast in Williamsburg before making his way towards the Navy Yard.  He’d gone through his regular morning routine with Bucky, so as not to raise any suspicion about his morning plans, but the fare at The Bagel Store was so wild that he couldn’t help grabbing a second breakfast for himself, as well as one of the crazy blue bagels for Bucky (he liked blueberry, and had gotten overly-invested in watching Breaking Bad in the weeks immediately after they’d retired - plus Steve knew that the evidence that he’d left the house during the day to go other than the VA would make Buck’s day).  

Unsurprisingly, Nat was already waiting for him at their meeting spot, looking surprisingly comfortable in a sleek woolen peacoat and huge fur hat, despite the chill in the air and snow on the ground.  Steve almost envied her, especially when his chunky knitted monstrosity of a scarf got stuck in his beard.

“I’m starting to think that Sam is onto something when it comes to this hipster thing, Rogers,” she said dryly, taking the coffee cup he handed her with a teasing smirk.

“He probably is,” Steve conceded as he dug around in the bag and grabbed out the ridiculous bagel she’d requested.  “But the stupid knitting is something to do and the beard helps hold heat in on my face,” he shrugged as he reached into the bag to find his own order - the cragels had looked too interesting to pass up, dammit - and decided to leave off the fact that the longer he went without shaving, the crazier the addition seemed to drive Bucky nuts in the best possible way.  “I don’t understand how your cheeks aren’t freezing in this wind,” he added, abruptly steering his mind away from that train of thought.

“I grew up in Russia,” Natasha replied, taking a dainty sip out of the coffee cup that was bigger than her head.  “Your winters here really aren’t bad.  But,” she added, raising an eyebrow at Steve, “I don’t think you texted me to talk about the weather.”

“Uh, no,” Steve admitted around the enormous bite of breakfast sandwich he’d just taken, feeling his ears heat beneath his hat as he shook his head and swallowed.  “No, I - I wanna surprise Buck for his birthday, but I’m gonna need help doing it.”

“Oh?”  Nat asked simply, her eyes wide and curious in a way that made her bagel look even more ridiculous as she took another bite of it.  

Steve took a sip of his own coffee to steel his nerves.  “Yeah - it’s coming up in a few weeks.  And… don’t laugh,” he added quickly, “but I want to take him dancing.  Properly.”

“I thought the two of you were already going out dancing,” she responded casually, “the gossip rags certainly like to talk about it on a regular basis.”

Steve rolled his eyes, knowing exactly which spreads she was talking about - truly they’d only been out to a couple of clubs, despite the way the tabloids covered it.  Tony had a field day with the coverage every damned time.  “We have, and they’re a good enough time, but clubs aren’t the same,” he explained.  “Bucky used to love going to dance halls, and he was a hell of a dancer.  He tried to teach me so I wouldn’t embarrass him on double dates…”

“I sincerely doubt that was his reasoning,” Natasha interrupted in an undertone.

“... but I was hopeless, when I was - you know.”  Steve continued on.  “And then I quit even trying - it used to be my thing, that I was waiting for the right partner.”  He stared down at the wrapped sandwich in his hand, picking off a piece of the flaky pastry as he shrugged again.  “I know I’ve got him now, and I’m hoping that I won’t be quite such a disaster now that I’ve got a body that works, but I really wanna surprise him by already learning ahead of time.”

“And you do realize that I’ve been classically trained in ballet, right?” Natasha asked - her smirk was still teasing, but Steve could tell from the change in her voice that she was taking a little more pity on him after hearing the story.

“So learning and teachin’ me some swing should be a snap, right?”  Steve asked brightly, while silently begging anyone willing to listen that Nat would say yes.  Realistically, Steve could probably teach himself a few things - but he preferred the idea of proper lessons, so that he could ultimately sweep Bucky off his feet and impress him, as Bucky was always wont to do for Steve.

He felt the smile fading from his face as Natasha continued to survey him coolly, chewing her breakfast in silence.  He was about to speak up again, when she finally put him out of his misery.  “Alright,” she said impassively, although Steve knew her well enough to catch the way her lips quirked as she reached for the phone in her coat pocket.  “I’ll see what I can do.  In the meantime, I’m going to send you a couple of video tutorials so you can start some of the basics on your own - Bucky has classes during the day anyway, right?”

Steve nodded and went for his own phone so quickly that he nearly fumbled what was left of his breakfast sandwich; in the end he was able to save it, feeling all the more foolish when he realized he didn’t even need the damned thing to begin with - it wasn’t as if Natasha didn’t already have his contact information.  “Yeah,” he responded, trying to cover his mistake, “every day except for Fridays, but even then he’s either in one of his school labs or working on somethin’ with Tony, so I’ve got plenty’a time to practice.”  Steve had an art class and counseling sessions of his own, but still hadn’t found much to occupy the rest of his days with, much to Bucky’s chagrin.  

“Lovely,” Natasha replied with a grin, wrapping up what was left of her bagel and tapping around on her StarkPhone’s calendar.  “I’ll send you the videos this afternoon - work on them for the next couple of days, then let’s plan on meeting in one of the training rooms at the tower Monday afternoon.  As long as I don’t get called away for anything we should be able to get a couple of hours of work in.”

“Sounds great,” Steve said, nodding and fiddling with his own phone, while simultaneously stamping down the guilt that went along with the thought of Nat having to cancel on him because she was off with the Avengers, while he sat at home in New York and tried to learn how to jitterbug.  

He barely had finished the thought before a sharp elbow caught him in the side - no matter how long he knew Natasha Romanoff, her ability to read his mind would always creep Steve out.  

“And remember to wear something comfortable,” she added as an aside, before gathering up her coffee cup and trash, “we’ll work with you in dapper clothes eventually, but for the start let’s keep the distractions as minimal as possible.  Stick to something easy to move in, and make sure to bring dancing shoes with you.”

“Will do,” Steve promised, jumping off of the bench as Natasha stood.  “And thanks so much, Nat, I owe you.”

“We’ll see how much,” she replied with a smile, before leaning in to give Steve a hug.  It lasted only a moment, before she was making her way towards the subway, disappearing into the crowd in that unnerving way she had practically turned into an artform.  Steve watched her go, before choking down the last of his cold breakfast and making his way across the street to see his counselor.

He watched the videos as he’d been asked, and spent his free hours on Friday while Buck visited with Tony in Manhattan to work on the steps as he’d promised, trying not to feel too ridiculous as he did his best to move as the videos instructed, watching himself awkwardly in the bedroom window.  When Monday morning rolled around he showed up to the Tower for his first lesson with Natasha at 10:00 on the dot.  The usual sparring mat that made up the majority of the training room she’d suggested had been rolled into the corner, revealing a huge open wooden floor, laid out in front of an entire wall of mirrors on one side and a gorgeous view of the city behind them.  Steve immediately felt ridiculous and out of place in his running pants and t-shirt when he noticed the dress and tights combination Natasha was wearing as he pulled her hair up into a tight bun - but if she was at all bothered by Steve’s casual attire, she didn’t show it.

“You watched the videos?  And practiced?” She asked simply, stepping up in front of the mirrors of what could easily have been the swankiest dance studio in all of New York.

“I did,” Steve confirmed, laughing humorlessly.  “Not sure how well I did with them, but…”

“FRIDAY, please cut the video feed I’m sure Stark has set up for the gym,” Natasha called over him, cutting off the self-depreciating joke that Steve had been setting up for.

“I’ve already overwritten the protocol, Agent Romanoff,” FRIDAY’s voice confirmed from a corner of the room.  “Would you like me to initiate the music sequence you programmed?”

“That’d be great,” Nat responded with a smile, turning so that she was facing Steve.  “Alright,” she continued as Benny Goodman’s band started up over the gym’s speakers, “let’s start with the basics.”

Steve swallowed thickly and moved into starting position, then did his damndest to remember the videos he’d worked through as he followed her lead.  Nat was kind enough to walk him through each of the basic steps for the Charleston and the Lindy hop, watching them both in the mirror as they worked side by side, but the second she’d determined that he was ready to actually dance as a pair she demanded that he take the lead.

“Er… this was usually Bucky’s role when we used to practice,” Steve admitted after flubbing their first go-round, feeling his cheeks heat up like a flare as he admitted as much.

“All the better to really impress him with, then,” Natasha said archly, pulling him back into position and waiting for his lead.  “Plus, it’ll be more fun if you’re both challenged, right?  Something tells me Barnes is a smart enough guy that he’ll be able to learn the follow steps easily enough.”

Steve could hardly argue her point - and he knew damned well that Bucky was a good enough dancer to boot.  With a frown he got back to work, trying even more diligently to remember each of the steps as they walked through different songs, gradually increasing the tempo and difficulty level as they went.  It didn’t go as badly as the disasters he had remembered in the thirties: Steve never onced stomped on Natasha’s feet (a mistake he was sincerely terrified of making - it had been mortifying when he’d stomped on dames’ toes in the past, but even tough as Nat was Steve wouldn’t forgive himself if his clumsy ass legitimately hurt her), and for the most part he was able to keep up with the steps, going through the basic Jitterbug and Charleston without much trouble, and even starting in on East Coast Swing moves and the Shag.  He still managed to feel gawky and awkward, though, and Nat chided him more than a couple of times about being stiff and off-beat.  

“I think that’s about enough for one day,” she said as the Glenn Miller band faded out.  

Steve nodded in agreement, pushing his sweaty bangs back off of his head and doing a doubletake when he looked to the clock on the gym’s wall - he had no idea how they’d passed a full two hours so quickly.  “So - you think it’s a lost cause?” He asked playfully, not able to bring himself to look her in the eyes.  He kicked himself the second he’d said it, knowing that it gave away far too much about his nerves.

Natasha snorted inelegantly.  “No, I think you’ve got a shot, once you get out of your head and stop worrying so much about it,” she added, not unkindly.  

“Sorry,” Steve muttered, knowing he was being overly dramatic but unable to totally turn it off, “I guess it’s just hard to forget my track record.  You’d think that having a body that can do damn-near anything would make this easier, but…”

“Oh, your body isn’t the issue,” Natasha cut in, “it’s definitely your head.  If you’d stop focusing so much on the steps you’d have the dances down in an afternoon, no problem.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue that she was being far too generous in her assessment, but Natasha barrelled on.  “Think about it this way,” she stated as she slipped her shoes off, “dancing isn’t that much different than sparring, really - you know your own strengths, and you know your partner, then it’s just a matter of finding the right rhythm together and moving forward to make each other better.”  

And, well… that made a hell of a lot of sense.  And made it sound a lot less onerous.  “So you’re saying I just need to imagine it’s a fight and I’ll get it.”

“I figured you were doing as much already,” she teased as she tucked her dance shoes into a bag.  “I mean you should relax and have fun with it, which I figured was why you wanted to learn in the first place - if you’d stop thinking about the steps you’d learn them faster and be a better dancer for it.”

Steve had no idea what the hell she meant by that but he let it slide.

“At any rate, keep working on those steps and trying to make them more fluid,” Natasha finished, grabbing her coat from its hook on the wall and sliding into a pair of boots.  “Have some fun while you practice; I’ll see you here again on Thursday?”

“Sure, I’ll see what I can do,” Steve answered, finally pulling his own shoes off as she made her way out of the room, then mulling over her advice all the way home.

Steve did have some fun during the week at least, especially as he felt more comfortable with the steps and required less and less thought.  Switching his music choices helped as well; for as much as he preferred the old standards, Bucky’s weird collection of modern electro-swing spared him the intrusive memories of little Steve getting embarrassed one Friday night after another, while still staying close enough to the real thing that it didn’t throw off what little rhythm he had.

The second lesson with Natasha was worlds apart from the first - Steve kept her words close to heart, focusing instead on the music and the idea of sparring with her (an activity that had become as familiar as breathing) instead of dancing; and somehow managed to fly through all of their steps, barely breaking as they switched songs and styles for a solid forty minutes.

“Good!” She laughed as he pulled her in close for a final spin, her green eyes bright and mischievous as Steve felt himself grin like an idiot.  “I think you’ve got the steps down, now - let’s see about throwing some aerials into the mix.”

The throws and flips were surprisingly easy, although that probably had to do with the fact that Nat did most of the work on them, telegraphing when she wanted to add them into a sequence of steps and more or less throwing her weight around Steve, leaving his sole responsibility to make sure that she made it back to the ground in a controlled manner and stepping her into their next move.  While he was thankful for it, he knew that it was probably too good to last.

“I’ll send you a few videos to study over the weekend,” Natasha said once they’d finished for the day, already tapping away on her phone.  “Try to study them, I’m going to make your job considerably more difficult on Monday.”

Steve was glad for the easy assignment; he hadn’t been sure how he would keep his work up with Bucky around over the weekend, but sitting around and watching videos on his StarkPad was easy enough while Buck worked on assignments and watched his own documentaries.  In the end it was close enough to their usual weekends together that Steve was relatively certain that his secret was still safe.

He entered the gym in Avengers Tower on Monday morning with only a mild sense of dread as he wondered what Natasha had meant about making things more difficult for him - then frowned in confusion when he found Nat in a plain set of gym clothes instead of her dance gear from the previous two lessons, and Clint in an awkward purple leotard stretching in front of the mirror.

“Cap!” He shouted with a grin as Steve stepped slowly into the room, toeing out of his street shoes and trying to act natural.  “Are you ready to cut a rug?  Nat said you needed someone to step in and swing with you.”

“Yeah, hey Clint,” Steve answered, shooting Natasha a questioning glance.  “And I sure am - I didn’t know you were a dancer, too.”

“I mean, I was basically raised by circus performers,” Clint said with a flippant wave, “you learn all kinds of weird shit on the road.”

“And I figured it would help you to get practice with someone a bit more like your actual partner,” Natasha added lazily, raising her eyebrow in an obvious challenge to the looks that Steve had already sent her way.

“No, yeah.  I mean - that sounds swell,” Steve corrected himself, pulling on his dance shoes and lacing them down before he could say anything else that was too stupid.  The plan lasted as long as it took him to tie his shoes and make his way to where Barton was standing in front of the mirror.  “Er…  are you gonna be able to hear the music well enough to follow the steps?”

Thankfully, Clint just laughed at the question.  “Yeah, FRIDAY’s wired to play the music straight into my aides,” he said, tapping the purple buds in his ears, “so I’ll hear the same things you do.”

Steve nodded along, shifting his weight awkwardly from side to side before forcing himself into starting position, before he actually combusted from embarrassment.  It was stupid, he knew - dancing with Clint was no different than dancing with Nat, but somehow pulling another team member in made him feel jittery.

“What’re we startin’ with?” Clint asked, stepping up and grabbing Steve’s hands like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Natasha called out to FRIDAY and Woodchopper’s Ball started over the speakers.

“Lindy Hop,” Steve answered, sounding far more confident than he actually felt, before triple-stepping to the side and taking it away.

Dancing with Barton was definitely a different beast than swinging Natasha had been: the guy had decent enough moves and kept the beat considerably better than Steve had been anticipating, and he was surprisingly good at following Steve’s lead, but it still took Steve a couple of songs to get used to looking down and seeing a male partner.  Plus, the dynamics of swinging a man were completely different, and when they were comfortable enough with each other to start adding aerials, the moves were completely on Steve’s end to control.

He only ended up tossing Clint once, though, when they both tried to get too fancy in the middle of a stroll and Steve had called out “Around the world,” but apparently had failed to say it loudly enough that Clint had caught it - ending in the archer giving a startled yelp when Steve went to flip him into the air, surprising Steve enough that he put far more force into the throw than necessary and flung Barton across the gym.

Natasha swore up and down that she’d only been sending a text when it had happened.  Steve knew damned well that the entire team would end up getting in a SnapChat, eventually.  Barton just shook it off and stepped back up for more.

“Maybe work on knowing your own strength,” Nat teased him as they parted, but between her smirk and Clint’s bark of laughter Steve knew that there were no hard feelings - and that he just might be good enough to end up pulling his plan off, after all.

He wasn’t exactly surprised to find a third person in the gym again when he returned for his last lesson on Thursday, but the site of Yelena Belova turning from her conversation at the wall of mirrors with Natasha was still enough to give Steve pause.  Although he hadn’t exactly worked with the second Widow the women had sparred enough times with Steve and Bucky that he felt like he could at least call her a good acquaintance, and over the months since she’d officially joined the New Avengers Belova had done nothing but prove her value and loyalty to the team.  All the same, he had to force down his instinctive wariness as he made his way into the room.

“Agent Belova,” he said as pleasantly as possible, nodding as he went about his ritual of changing into his dress shoes.

“Captain Rogers,” she responded with a nod.  “Natalia tells me that you need practice with a dance partner who’s strong,” she continued, answering the question that must have been obvious on his face, “it’s been many years since I’ve danced this style, but I figure I can be of help today.”

“No offense, Steve,” Natasha added sardonically, “but I know how you and Bucky like to switch, and I didn’t exactly feel up to throwing you around for two hours.”

Steve blushed horribly, unable to ignore the obvious innuendo in Natasha’s voice - how the hell she had worked out what they got up to in the bedroom was totally beyond him, but he didn’t want to give her the gratification of knowing that she’d gotten it right.  Besides that, he had said at the beginning that he had always been the follow when they had danced in the past… it made perfect sense that he learn how to dance both parts.

“That’s fair,” he said once he’d gathered himself enough to trust his voice, making his way to the middle of the room and ignoring the look that the Widows shared.  “Just forgive me if I step on your toes, Yelena; I haven’t practiced followin’ since the winter of thirty-nine.”  

“Then we’ll learn together,” Belova answered with a smirk, stepping closer and resting her hand against his hip as the music started up.  “I doubt we’ll have much trouble.”

She was more or less correct: it took Steve the better part of four songs before he’d really started getting comfortable dancing with her, and even then he still flubbed his steps from time to time, forgetting to switch his footing and stepping on Yelena’s toes as they simultaneously attempted to lead.  Thankfully, she was both strong and patient enough to take them in stride, moving him back into position and continuing on as if nothing had happened.

Natasha, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as forgiving.

“C’mon, Rogers,” she sighed as she restarted ‘In The Mood’, “I know you’re better than that - quit overthinking it and dance!”

He had half a mind to point out that her directions were considerably easier said than done, but before Steve could say anything Yelena lead them into a stroll, pulling Steve along as she wanted and tossing him at the end of the verse.  He came out of the knickerbocker like it was nothing, landing on his feet and immediately going into the next rock step, and just like that following the dance was the last thing on Steve’s mind.  Instead his head was too busy marveling over the easy way that his dance partner had manhandled him, which immediately took his imagination down the path of imagining Bucky doing the same, just tossing Steve like he was nothing then pulling him back into cuddle position…

He had no idea how they got through the rest of the dance, but Steve found himself even more convinced that his plan was a brilliant one by the time the music finally cut.  He had to guess that both Natasha and Yelena knew his mind was wandering, as they cut the lesson short soon after.

“You’ll be fine,” Nat promised, going up on her toes to give Steve a hug and a knowing wink once she parted, “just let us know when your first competition is - I want to get credit for making a new star.”

“We won’t be competing any time soon,” Steve said with a huff, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt it flush.  It was true: judging by the way his mind was still wandering, Steve wasn’t even sure that they should be dancing in public at all, at least not in the immediate future - but at the same time he wasn’t going to rule it out completely.  A couple of weeks earlier he would have said it was a ridiculous suggestion, but now the idea of being able to show Bucky off, and the hope that Buck might want to do the same was a little too heady to ignore completely.

Natasha hummed knowingly as she made her way towards the door, following in Yelena’s wake.  “In that case, if you guys ever want to double on a date, let me know… Clint hasn’t shut up about heading out as well.”

Steve laughed and promised he would be in touch: that much was easy, at least, and something to legitimately look forward to - but first he wanted a few nights of enjoying Bucky’s company on his own.

The next day Steve was so excited to share his progress with Bucky that he could barely wait for the evening; as soon as Buck had headed off to his lab Steve found himself too anxious to sit still, pacing around the house a few dozen times before finally forcing himself outside to burn off his nervous energy.  He ended up finding himself in a thrift shop in DUMBO, but he got a pair of suspenders that both fit and would match one of his better pairs of trousers as well as a snazzy vintage tie which was too good to pass on, regardless of how much he knew Sam would razz him once he go a load of it.

He made it home an hour before Buck was due to finish up his project and immediately changed into his outfit, going so far as to slick his hair back with pomade before standing back and admiring himself in the mirror.  Steve wasn’t sure that it was ever going to be completely natural, looking at his tall, broad reflection and accepting that the hunk looking back was actually him, but he couldn’t help preening all the same: the hair wasn’t perfect, and his pants were a little too tight and rode a little too low.  Even so, Steve couldn’t help but think he looked pretty damned swell, and had no doubt that Buck would feel the same.

He made his way downstairs to wait for Bucky to get home, playing around on his phone as his foot tapped nervously against the carpet of the living room floor.  The act lasted less than ten minutes, before Steve changed his mind about the outfit and hauled himself back their bedroom to change: he didn’t want to give the surprise away right off the bat, and Bucky had a habit of changing into loungewear as soon as he got home from classes.  They could break the suits out when they went to a proper hall; for tonight, Steve would let his hard work speak for him instead.

He was in the middle of a game of Words Against Friends versus Sam when the front door finally opened, and it was all Steve could do to act natural as Bucky made his way through the house, stopping in the living room to drop a kiss on the crown of Steve’s head.

“Your day go alright?” Steve asked nonchalantly, moving just enough to steal a proper kiss before going back to his game.

“It was fine,” Bucky conceded, shifting his backpack further up his shoulder, “I think the kids in my physics lab are finally starting to get the importance of learning thermo…”

“You didn’t light anything on fire, did ya?” Steve asked cautiously - it wasn’t like Bucky to be careless in a lab, even one as elementary as the introductory physics course he was taking, but Steve also knew how bored he was with the course, and how much time he’d been spending complaining to Stark about it.

“Course not!” Bucky responded lightly as he made his way up the stairs.  

Steve wasn’t one hundred percent convinced with the answer, but he also figured it wasn’t the time to pursue it.  As soon as he’d heard Buck’s footsteps make their way into the bedroom upstairs Steve was in motion, easily moving all of the furniture to the sides of the room, leaving the place open enough that the two of them would be able to properly swing without busting anything.  He dropped the needle on the gramophone as he heard Bucky come back down the stairs, turning with a grin as Benny Goodman started up and the footsteps stopped on the landing.

Bucky stood there with a grin starting to pull at the corners of his mouth, looking around the room in confusion.  “What’s this?”

“Somethin’ I’ve been workin’ on for you,” Steve admitted, holding his hand out and hoping that his ears weren’t as red as they were warm.  “C’mon, jerk, don’t leave me hanging here like a crumb - get down here and let’s get hot!”

That earned a surprised laugh, and the next thing he knew Bucky was busting it across the room, shuffling to a stop as if it were part of an act as he held his hand out for Steve to take.  “You leadin’?” He asked teasingly.

“If you think you can follow,” Steve answered with a smirk, grabbing his hand and swinging him around with all of the false bravado that he could muster - and just like that they were off, falling into sync and Lindying even better than Steve had through all of his practicing, even better than he’d remembered watching Bucky dance ages ago in the dark dancehalls that seemed to practically be his home.

Nat was damned right about dancing being like sparring: with the right partner, it all flowed so effortlessly that Steve couldn’t believed he’d been so stressed about it.  Bucky’s grin was so blinding as they swung around the room that Steve couldn’t even feel put-out by the look of obvious surprise in his eyes.

As they made their way back across the room on the final pass of the song Steve muttered a warning, before lifting Bucky up and tossing him around, pulling off an Around the World even as they both laughed like idiots.  They came back together in step as the music faded out, but Steve was too busy getting caught up in the look on Bucky’s face to start the steps to the next song.  “You learned that for me?” Bucky finally asked, surprisingly breathless for how little they’d actually exerted themselves.

“I mean,” Steve started with a shrug, “I can only use the excuse so many times, right?  Nat helped, I just… I thought it’d be nice if we could go out dancing properly.  I, uh - I got us a spot reserved at one of the swing clubs on Saturday, if you wanna go.”

Truthfully he had a whole day planned out for Bucky’s birthday, but the rest of the surprise could wait.

“Course I wanna go, Steve,” Bucky answered quietly, leaning closer into Steve’s chest as they waited for the next song to start.  “I’ve been dreamin’ for years of having the chance to show my guy off…”

Steve chuckled at that, pushing gently away from Bucky as the music picked back up then immediately pulling him in with an inside spin, wrapping his arm around Buck’s waist and dipping him low.  He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, feeling stupidly proud for the move - but instead of laughing like Steve had expected, Bucky gaped at him for a beat.  His next move was all a single, fluid motion - before Steve could blink Bucky’s lips were on his, and he vaguely noticed the cool metal fingers of Buck’s left hand grabbing hold of the front of his t-shirt.  Next thing he knew, he was being tugged desperately down to the floor, but he was already too worked up by the change of events to get much out of the jumbled endearments that Bucky muttered between rough, ecstatic kisses.

In the end it was a few hours before they actually go back to dancing again, and they’d both earned a few rug burns for their troubles.