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There have been many times during the past year that Stiles has questioned his choice to go into Emergency Medicine. If he had gone with his initial career path, he would have been done with his deputy training and working years ago. Even the whole FBI plan only required a bachelor's degree, plus he had an in with Scott’s deadbeat dad. But no. He couldn’t stick with his hero worship ideas of following in his dad’s footsteps. Instead, he changed his major from Criminal Justice to Biology freshman year, and he hasn’t looked back.
School was never much of an issue, though. It’s this damn residency that is kicking his ass. He can’t remember the last time he’s actually had time off because his attending physician is a dickhead workaholic that expects his residents to live and breathe the emergency department. His AP is also one of the best Emergency doctors in the country, which is why Stiles follows the rules and works non-stop without complaint.
Lincoln Medical is only going to hire one doctor out of this rotation, and Stiles wants it to be him. He loves the chaos of the ED and just how many unique things he gets to see come through the doors being located somewhere like Manhattan. If supervillains aren’t wreaking havoc on innocent people, then superheroes are likely causing collateral damage to civilians, not to mention the normal stupid shit that happens to people.
New York City is way more exciting than Beacon Hills ever was, even with the whole werewolf and supernatural allure. Scotty keeps their hometown safe, keeps Stiles’ dad safe, so he can live across the country without worrying about that. It lets him focus on his residency and continuing to learn new procedures and perfecting his skills so that Dr. Lewis is unable to consider anyone else for full-time employment when residency ends.
Stiles is currently on an overnight rotation, which means time passes quickly because nighttime brings out the drunken brawls, car accidents, and assaults. It’s also generally when the villains do dumb shit to end up getting smacked down by any number of superheroes that populate the city. Lewis actually scheduled him off for the next two nights, only because the Administration noticed the ED residents have been working non-stop for weeks.
It probably says something about his life that he’s sitting in the IHOP across the street from work staring out the window instead of going home to get some much needed sleep. His apartment is ridiculously small, a one bedroom on the sixth floor of an old building that doesn’t ever seem to have a functioning elevator, because it’s a short walk from his job and cheaper than a lot of places he found. He might be a doctor, but his student loans are outrageous and he’s still just in residency, so close, convenient, and cheap were his only real criteria.
It really is just somewhere to sleep and maybe play some video games when his shift actually ends in twelve hours instead of running over. Now that he’s dealing with the reality of two days off work at the same time, he’s not exactly eager to go stare at the empty walls of his apartment while pointlessly planning to get a better work-life balance so he can maybe start dating or even make a few friends.
Stiles is pulled from his thoughts when he hears footsteps approaching his table. He looks up expecting to see the busy waitress, but he finds himself staring at a handsome man with shaggy brown hair and piercing blue eyes that is sliding into the seat across from him.
“Talk to me,” the guy says, pulling the collar of his coat up and leaning forward so his elbow is on the table. His eyes are ridiculously pretty, and he’s staring with an intensity that makes Stiles’ pulse race. “Pretend I said something funny.”
“I’m not good at faking it,” he says honestly, blinking at the guy because his brain is half-asleep and not operating at normal speed.
“That’s good to know, but I said laugh not orgasm,” the guy says, his eyebrows shifting slightly as he looks somewhat amused. “If you see two people enter the restaurant, let me know. Man and woman who’ll look suspicious.”
“You’d know about looking suspicious,” Stiles points out, glancing at the door to the IHOP then back to the guy. “Isn’t it a little forward to sit with a stranger and start discussing orgasms? I mean, this is IHOP not a gay club.”
“Wasn’t aware we were discussing them,” the guy says, smirking slightly and damn. He’s definitely hot. “But people these days don’t seem to keep their personal stuff in the bedroom anymore.”
“Who are you hiding from?” Stiles asks, deciding to change the subject because he’s not awake enough to flirt with a hot guy. “Are you a bad guy?”
The guy snorts. “Who decides who’s bad and who isn’t? The people in power with the money to control the narrative is who. But, to answer your question, I’m not a villain. Not anymore.”
“I think actions generally outweigh whatever’s on the news or in the papers,” Stiles says. “Do you kill innocent people? Do you harm those who can’t protect themselves? That’s what truly decides who’s bad and who’s good. If you’re interested, I’m not a villain, either. Not anymore.”
“Huh.” The guy settles back in his chair, moving his other arm to rest on the table. “Guess I’m glad you’re not a villain anymore since you’d probably hand me over to the people I’m avoiding if you were.”
Stiles notices the sound of metal hitting the table, realizes the guy has a prosthetic arm, and he’s curious what happened but isn’t out of it enough to blurt out the question. He has matured some, after all. “The only people who have come in so far are an old couple who were seated in the back, and a mom with a kid who is wearing a hospital bracelet.”
The guy looks impressed. “I didn’t even notice you looking,” he says, squinting his eyes, “Doctor Stilinski.”
“My dad’s a county sheriff, and I almost went into law enforcement myself before realizing I’m way better at breaking rules than enforcing them,” he says. “You have me at a disadvantage since you’re not wearing a work badge. I can’t keep calling you Cute Guy indefinitely.”
“Been a while since anyone called me a dreamboat,” the guy admits, ducking his head and glancing behind him towards the door. His gaze lands back on Stiles. “Still catches me by surprise that people are so open about being queer now. Used to have to hide it when I was growing up. Could flirt with the dames all I wanted, but I’d have been beat up if I called a fella cute.”
“You still could even in a city as generally liberal as New York,” Stiles says, trying to place the guy’s accent because he sounds local but he’s talking like he grew up somewhere conservative. He’s got to be around Stiles’ age, maybe a little younger even.
“Yet you just called me cute without seeming to worry about my reaction,” the guy points out.
“I don’t mind living dangerously,” Stiles says honestly. After being possessed by the Nogitsune, he’s pretty confident that he can handle just about anything life throws at him. “Besides, you mentioned orgasms within seconds of sitting at my table, so I figured I was safe.”
“That I did, Doc,” he says with a grin. He reaches up and shoves his hair back from his forehead. “My name’s James, but you can call me Bucky.”
Bucky. Stiles frowns because the name seems familiar, but he can’t place it. “Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m Stiles, also a nickname but I don’t use my first name at all.”
“You’re a bit of a dish, Doc,” Bucky says, giving him a flirty smile that makes him look younger and carefree. Not as serious and intense as he looked when he first sat down.
Stiles isn’t sure if that’s a compliment or not, but he assumes it must be because of the flirty smile. Before he can respond, he notices the door open and sees a couple step inside. They scan the area, and he’s pretty sure they're the government based on their shoes and the guns he sees bulging underneath suit coats.
“Your friends are here,” he says, reaching forward to take Bucky’s metal hand, covering it with his own so no one can notice it from a distance. “Are they Feds? Or something else?”
Bucky blinks at him before he grins. “They’re part of Hydra. I took out most of their group, but I ran out of ammo, of all damn things, so I had to hoof it and hide out. My buddy, Sam, is planning to meet up with me when I get somewhere safe.”
“Hydra? I’ve heard of that,” Stiles says. “Definitely not good guys. I’ve never been a superhero groupie, prefer the fictional kind to the real ones, but my dad caught a deputy that was part of Hydra when I was a kid.”
“Yeah, I got the lack of superhero groupie thing,” Bucky says dryly, his eyes shining with mischief. “They still there?”
“Yeah, pretending to look at the menu.” Stiles leans over and hovers his mouth against Bucky’s ear, soft hair brushing against his cheek. “Pretend like I’m kissing you. They’re looking this way.”
“Not too good at faking it,” Bucky murmurs, dry lips rubbing against Stiles’ cheek before pressing against the corner of his lips. Stiles looks at him and feels a want in his gut that he hasn’t felt in a while.
“I think they left,” he whispers, quickly pulling away and sitting back down. He doesn’t have time for any kind of complications right now, and something tells him that Bucky is a huge complication wrapped up in a pretty package.
Bucky studies him a moment before he glances at the door. “They might be outside waiting for me,” he says thoughtfully, moving a metal finger over the back of Stiles’ hand. He grins as he faces him again. “Think I should stay and maybe have some breakfast, just to be safe.”
“I think you’re gorgeous, and, if I was into casual sex, I’d take you home with me right now, but I’m in a busy residency program at the moment, and I barely have time to sleep, much less date,” Stiles says bluntly, blushing just a little as he blurts all that out without even knowing if that’s what Bucky’s hinting about.
“Geesh, Doc. That took a lot of moxie to be so honest,” Bucky says, a slight grin on his lips. “But you intrigue me, and it’s been a while since I’ve had someone interest me like this. I can respect all that stuff you just said, but my best friend used to say I was stubborn as a mule once I set my mind to something, and I’d like to get to know you better. So why don’t we have some pancakes and you can tell me about this busy residency?”
“I’m pretty stubborn, too,” Stiles tells him, seeing a slight challenge in those pretty eyes that he’s finding difficult to resist. “But, sure, what’s a little breakfast amongst strangers?”
Bucky snorts before slowly smiling that flirty smile that Stiles bets usually works on anyone he’s flirting with. “Give me some time, Doc. and we won’t be strangers anymore.”
Stiles arches his brow, looking up when the waitress finally comes to his table before he can respond. They both order a triple stack and bacon, but Bucky also gets eggs and sausage. When she bustles off with their order, Stiles looks across the table. “You’ve got however long it takes for our food to get here and for us to eat, Bucky,” he says in a challenging tone, feeling excited when Bucky’s grin sharpens and becomes almost predatory. “We’ll see if you’re successful or not.”
“You do like to live dangerously, don’t you, Stiles?” Bucky asks, looking at his mouth before letting go of his hand and leaning back. “Challenge accepted, but I should warn you that I’m planning to walk you home after breakfast regardless. They could still be lurking around, and I’m gonna make sure you get home safe.”
“I can take care of myself,” Stiles says, taking a drink of his coffee. “But I’ll let you walk me home so I can make sure those Hydra agents don’t catch you. You can arrange to meet that friend of yours at my place, so I can make sure you stay safe.”