#beardedsteve

Yes, maybe your glares lingered on him longer than they needed to after he'd made some snide remark. Yes, maybe you hid his stuff before missions just to get him to beg you to tell him where it was. Yes, maybe you thought about him naked in the shower after a long session in the gym-

Hang on. Scratch that last one. You hated him, that definitely never happened.

"The bottle pointed at you, then it pointed at him, babe. That's literally the game. You didn't have to play, but you did, so pay up," Natasha chided you from across the circle you were sitting in with your friends. You huffed, blowing your hair out of your eyes. Then your gaze dropped to the bottle and traced its form, following its direction to the target it had landed on. His frown was the first thing you saw and your eyes traveled up to his eyes, blue and sparkling and radiant.

Goddamnit.

Bucky wasn't anymore outwardly thrilled than you. He had a grumpy, strong-and-silent reputation to maintain, he wasn't going to cave in just because the bottle had landed on you. With your messy hair in a bun, the loose pieces framing your face, your eyebrow cocked over one eye, giving him the cutest look of indignance he'd ever seen-

"No, fuck no, I'm not doing it either. Give me anyone else. Literally," he groaned, throwing his head back dramatically.

You scoff, "Please, as if you were good enough. This has to be earned." You're smug, gesturing sensually to your body, tracing your shape in the air alongside you. He simply purses his lips in response.

"You seriously won't respin it?" Bucky is pleading at this point to Natasha, clasping his hands together.

Natasha just rolls her eyes, "Will you just get it over with already? The fates have decided, so pucker up, idiots!" She's enthusiastic, enjoying this way too much.

You look over at Bucky, who turns his head towards you at the same time, and you lock eyes. "Fuck," you think, wracking your brain for any reasonable excuse to leave until the rest of the group gets bored and forgets this even happened. Blank. Your mind is fucking blank. Fuck.

The still air between you turns stale as everyone's eyes in the room switch intently between you and Bucky. Neither of you moves except to shift your features into a grimace.

"You just don't want to do it because you like him," Wanda proffers, tongue between her teeth as she grins at you.

Your head whips to her, "I do not!" It's a pathetic rebuttal, but it's all you can eke out. You can feel your cheeks reddening, the heat spreading to your ears, turning the tips of them pink.

"Oh relax, Oscar the Grouch over there likes you, too," she giggles, her eyes darting to him. His mouth simply hangs open, incredulously.

You snap at her, "No, he doesn't!" at the same time he shouts, "I do not!" Your heads whip around towards each other, anger furrowing your brows, your stares boring holes through each other's skulls.

Blood boiling, you take in the complete jarhead moron in front of you. He was such an ass, snarky and rude and demeaning, always talking to you like you were a baby deer too stupid to run at the sound of a gun. Such a prick, smart with perfectly groomed hair, his cocky fucking smile, huge biceps, and don't even get started on his thighs-

"Just admit it, lovebirds!" Sam shouts, sat next to Natasha. She chuckles, along with a few others. When Sam waggles his eyebrows at you, you growl deep within your throat.

"We are not lovebirds," your thoughts are racing, anger mixing with lust mixing with disgust mixing with desire, "and I'll fucking prove it!" You lunge at Bucky, taking him completely by surprise, fairly certain he'd half expected you to flat out refuse to do anything until you left the party.

Your lips collide and it's as if a bomb goes off. All other sounds drop away, all you can feel is his breath hot against your face as he exhales through his nose. He pushes back against you after he collects himself, lifting his hands up to you, one at the nape of your neck, one caressing the small of your back. His lower hand starts to wander further down, you feel his fingers trace along your curves, dipping below your backside, starting to squeeze.

You react against him instinctively, so used to fighting with him. Your jerky movement just pushes you harder into him as he opens his mouth, and you bite down on his lower lip. Hard. You start to taste copper, the tinge of it sending a shudder through you, and you feel him moan against you.

You readjust yourself on top of him, pulling your knees up by his hips, straddling him in front of all of your friends as your tongues fight for dominance. Your hands find their way along his jaw, your fingertips entangling themselves in his hair.

After a moment, you pull apart, panting, locking eyes as Bucky leans back on his hands to support himself, and you on top of him. You shake your head, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear but never losing focus of him.

"See?" you start strong, but his gaze holds you to him, melting your demeanor just enough to be noticeable. "Nothin'," you murmur, hands dropping to his chest, balling the fabric of his shirt in your grip.