#sillness

Bucky signed the guestbook “James Barnes and Guest” and looked at the table of photo buttons laid out as favors. It took him all of three seconds to find his own. The music pumping from the speakers greeted them at the door, making nostalgia fill Bucky’s chest.

“Whoa. Holy hair gel, Batman.”

“Everybody was doing that with their hair.”

“Is that a sun visor flipped upside down?”

“Leave me alone. It was cool.”

“Tell me who’s been filling your head with those foul lies.”

Bucky pinned the button to his lapel and elbowed Clint. “Quit yanking my chain and get us some drinks.”

Clint grinned. “That, I can do.”

Clint worked his way through the crowd, drawing appreciative and intrigued glances from the crowd as he passed. Bucky suppressed a tiny smile. Okay. He brought a hot date, even though Clint wasn’t really his date. But, for all appearances, they made a decent entrance.

“BUCKY?!”

“Spoke too soon,” Bucky hissed under his breath, and he turned toward the raucous voice, course and cracked with hard living.

“Flash. Hey, buddy. What’s shaking?”

Flash Thompson grinned, flashing whitened, invisaligned teeth and catching Bucky’s fingers in a crushing handshake that included the kind of shoulder-to-shoulder bro hug that these occasions demanded. “You got yourself a personal shopper? Look at you!”

“Just a little something I threw together,” Bucky lied. “How’ve you been?”

“You’d know if you ever joined the group chat I sent you the link for,” Flash complained, but there was no malice in his eyes. “You went to NYU, right?”

“More or less.”

“Yeah, I hear that.” Flash took a swig of his microbrew and then promptly dragged Bucky to a crowded table close to the edge of the tiny dance floor. “Guys! Look who I found!”