Chapter Text
As he attempted to open his eyes, Bucky Barnes learned three things.
Number One - He should just keep his eyes closed.
Number Two - Bucky was currently resting on a cloud.
And, most importantly, number three - He was dying.
That's all there was to it. He was dying.
And so unfortunate too. At least he made it to his birthday. If he was dying today, at least he got to celebrate last night.
Granted, the absolute throbbing behind his eyelids (made monumentally worse when opened his eyes enough that the had to suffer the bright sunlight in the room) had to prove that this was death.
He would take death over this hangover, he reasoned; as he was pretty sure death was conveniently the best descriptor for how he currently felt.
He shuffled deeper into the warmth of the cloud, comfortably swaddled like a newborn baby under a stack of smooth, soft blankets.
As the cloud embraced him, and he gave a quickly aborted attempt to roll over and felt blankets rustle over his skin, he learned two other important little facts.
Number four - he had absolutely no idea where he was.
And, taking place of number three as the most important, was number five. He was completely naked.
The good thing about the hangover to rival all hangovers, meant he didn't have the energy or wherewithal to freak out.
He figured that he could review the facts in order. He even decided to prove his current (and, honestly, fairly unfortunate) sobriety by reviewing them in reverse order.
Number five - he was naked. The sheet over his body had to be some fancy fabric because it was all smooth and ghosted over his skin the one time he tried to move. He could probably assume his clothes were around here somewhere, right? He should look for them.
Number four - where the heck was he? You'd think the fact he was in some strange place would be more alarming than the naked bit. It wasn't. That in it of itself was surprising.
Number three - Death. He supposed he should be happy that he made it to the other side of his twenty first birthday and lived to tell the tale. He wasn't actually sure that's what happened seeing as this hangover was currently trying to destroy him. If he lived to see Barton or Quill again, he was going to kill them for not warning him about this part.
Sure, Bucky had drinks here or there at stupid campus house parties before, but he had been completely unprepared for the mountain climb that was his big 2-1.
Number two - This cloud. His mattress at his apartment was thin and cheap. It got the job done, he figured, if part of that job was providing uncomfortable lumps in wrong places since the stuffing in it was fairly threadbare at most. He didn't have to open his eyes (which, he would never do again if it could be helped) to know that the soft, plump, fluffiness supporting his entire body was not his mattress. It wasn't his couch either, because although it was fairly comfortable for naps, it was nothing like this cloud like surface. Bucky was even fairly certain, that if his whole body hadn't felt like death, that twinge he got in his lower back from a night is his own bed might even be completely nonexistent.
Number one. Shit. He had to open his eyes sometime.
Double shit.
He opened them slowly, letting himself squint. His head was throbbing, and it starting pounding harder as he let light in. He decided just to go for it, and opened them as slow as possible to try and acclimate to the brightness.
The room was bright, it clearly faced the direction of the sun, since there was a large window on the wall opposite him. There were thick curtains pulled to each side of the window, and he desperately wished they were closed.
He looked around the room he was in, trying to get his bearings straight. It was fairly generic looking, but still nice. The walls were a light mossy green and the floor was a dark hardwood. There was a caramel colored rug in the middle of the space. This cloud was actually a queen sized bed with a thick wooden head and foot board. The comforter he was snuggled under was a chocolate brown, and the sheets were a dark gray.
There was minimal furniture, just the bed, a night stand, and a dresser against the far wall, but they were all the same dark wood.
The whole space was minimally decorated, but it all felt very masculine. Bucky immediately liked it. There was a door on the far wall, half open, that appeared to led into a hall way, and another on the wall closest to him that was closed.
His eyes focused on the night stand immediately to his bedside. Resting on the surface was a large glass of water (…on a coaster?) and two white tablets of aspirin.
Bucky sat up to grab the aspirins, but stopped as his stomach ended up somewhere between upside down and right side up.
He was never drinking again.
"Shit," he groaned miserably as his head gingerly hit the pillow. He decided to try again and sat up as slowly as possible.
His body sagged in relief as he leaned back against the headboard for support. Lifting the glass of water, he took a few small sips. His stomach didn't seem to revolt, so he grabbed the two white pills and swallowed them each individually with some more water.
He then realized what a giant idiot he was.
Sure, who ever decorated this place had a good taste… but you know who else had good taste? Serial killers. Okay, so he was maybe being a trifle dramatic. For one, that was probably false. He didn't know much about serial killers, except for what was on Law and Order, but he was pretty sure that their tastes were irrelevant. For two? He didn't know.
It's just that he was in some unfamiliar place and he just downed two nondescript pills. Sure, they could've been pain killers, but they also could've been like those death-berries in The Hunger Games.
(Yes, he read young adult fiction. So sue him. He has younger sisters. Shut up.)
He just took drugs. From a stranger (…?).
This was a bad idea. Maybe this wasn't the apartment of a serial killer, but a drug dealer. It would explain the unlabeled pills just sitting around. Bucky would bet if he got up, there were probably drugs stashed all over this place.
He listened for a moment, and the complete silence just confirmed that whomever owned the place was currently out dealing. Probably selling drugs to college kids, which even though that's what always happened on Law And Order, didn't make much sense because all the college kids he knew were broke.
Including himself.
Whoever this guy was… his mind trailed off as he realized with abject horror, that he had no confirmation that said apartment owner was a guy. If Bucky somehow went home with a woman, then he really was never drinking again.
As much as he wanted to stay in bed, close his eyes, and burry himself under those blankets, he knew he had to get up sometime.
He heard the heavy sound of a door shutting somewhere else in the place, and he knew he'd better get a move up. He was pretty sure that whomever he went home with probably would have expected him to be gone in the morning. His head hurt, but his ass felt fine, so he assumed that he hadn't had sex last night. Although, he was naked?... So maybe he topped the guy? That didn't sound like him.
Or, the horrifying thought that he slept with a woman popped into his head again (it wasn't that women were horrible or anything, it was just that vaginas were terrifying). If that's what happened, it couldn't have been any better than that one time he tried at sixteen. He had no desire to re-live the most awkward and uncomfortable moment of his life.
"Can't stay here forever," he grumbled unhappily as he pushed the blankets away from his body and scooted to the edge of the bed.
Well, this wasn't good.
As Bucky managed to get onto his feet, his stomach promptly flipped upside down. Clearly moving around wasn't a good idea.
He stumbled to the door and stuck his head into the hallway. If he barfed on a serial killer's rug, he could not imagine it ending well. Strike what he said earlier, now he really was dying.
Shit.
Bucky's vision swam and his body sagged against the doorframe. His lips were pulled tightly together and he could hear how loud his breaths were as he breathed heavily through his nose.
He braced his right hand on his flat stomach impossibly hoping it would help to settle it.
"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky's head whipped to the left, which was a horrible idea because his stomach did not appreciate it, to see a large blonde man rush down the hallway. "Are you going to throw up?"
Bucky nodded helplessly, because there was no denying it. He was pretty sure he looked as green as he felt.
"It's okay, kid." A strong arm wrapped around his waist and he attempted to look up at the man helping him, but his bleary eyes could barely focus on what was in front of him. "Hurry up, you're okay. Come on."
Bucky was quickly shuffled, his feet not doing much to move him, into a bathroom. He collapsed in front of the toilet and proceeded to heave up the contents of his stomach, which mostly consisted of bile and last night's liquor.
Bucky groaned miserably as he crouched in front of some strange man's toilet. He didn't even get a good look at the guy, seeing as he'd been using everything he could to avoid barfing in the hall way. He tilted his head to the side, resting his cheek on his forearm, and leaning on the toilet.
This was probably a new low.
He closed his eyes just for a moment and groaned again. "'m never drinking again."
He heard a voice chuckle behind him, and he hadn't realized the stranger had joined him. Eyes still closed, he felt a soft warmth land on his shoulders as a fleece blanket was wrapped around him.
He felt someone gather his hair and pull it away from his face. He assumed it was the blurry blonde guy from earlier. Bucky wondered if he was that blurry in real life.
He turned his head back towards the toilet and puked again. His hair was being held back, and he felt a cool washcloth rub at the back of his neck. He laid his face back on his forearm again, and felt the cool washcloth gently blotting his forehead.
Fairly certain there was noting left in his stomach to come back up, he sighed and opened his eyes.
"How are you feeling?" Bucky blinked a few times as the stranger addressed him. He had a deep, calming voice and was, quite frankly, the hottest man Bucky had ever seen. He had dark blonde hair, a killer jawline, and a brickhouse of a body.
And his forearms were the size of Bucky's head.
…And Bucky was naked, barfing in his bathroom.
There was nothing 'probably' about it. This was definitely a new low.
"I think I'm dying," Bucky croaked, as the man was watching him with concerned eyes, clearly waiting for a response.
"Yeah, well, with as much as you drank last night, I'm not surprised." He crouched down next to Bucky and ran the cool washcloth along his forehead and hair line.
"Everything hurts," he whined Pitifully. Had Bucky not been dying, he'd be incredibly embarrassed to be whining in front of this fucking Adonis, but he was going to let it slide. Just for today. Being a victim of his 21st birthday gave him a pass for just one day, he decided.
This guy was being incredibly nice to him, despite this awful situation, and he was feeling too wrecked to even question it.
"You think you're going to throw up again?"
"No," Bucky tried to sound confident, "Honestly, I don't there's anything left in my stomach."
"All right," the Blonde Hottie (had Bucky learned his name?) nodded once. He looked concerned, but there was a little amusement beneath it, "You gonna stay wrapped around that toilet all day?"
"It seems like a good idea," Bucky answered honestly because his brain couldn't think of anything else for him to do.
"Come on, Bucky, up," So the guy knew his name. That was something. He felt that strong arm wrap around his waist again and pull him to a standing position.
Once Bucky seemed steady of his feet, those hands released him. Thankful for the blanket from earlier, he wrapped it tighter around his body.
"Here's the plan," Bucky wondered when this guy had time to come up with a plan. Probably sometime between him dealing drugs and Bucky blowing chunks, "You're going to take a hot shower."
The man inclined his head towards the large glass walled shower on the other end of the bathroom. Seeing as it looked as good as that mattress was, he was not going to complain. Blondie was reaching into a drawer in the vanity and he pulled out a thin paperboard box.
"I figured you'd probably want to brush your teeth as well," He passed the new tooth brush to Bucky with a shrug. Bucky watched as he pulled some big fluffy towels out from under the sink. "And after that, you can have as much coffee as it takes for you to feel human again."
Bucky should've said thanks, but he didn't. His mouth opened and closed once and all he could ask was, "Where are my clothes?"
He got a smile in return, "I put them in the wash first thing this morning. They should be clean for you shortly."
Bucky was looking the man up and down. Frankly, he was gorgeous. Even though his dumb white socks looked a little dorky, and the black athletic shorts did nothing for him, his shirt was gray and clearly a size and a half too small. It pulled over the man's chest in a way that looked indecent.
Bucky wanted to climb him like a tree.
This guy was so hot, that Bucky's nakedness suddenly made sense, "Did we fuck last night?"
He seemed startled by Bucky's bluntness, "Uh, no."
"That's a shame." Bucky shrugged because really, it was. On a purely superficial level, this guy was a freaking ten.
The guy laughed like it was a joke, like Bucky wasn't being completely serious, "You don't remember?"
"Nope." But he was a little disappointed that it hadn't happened.
"Bucky," the man's voice was very kind for a moment, "You were totally wasted last night. There was no way you could've consented to anything."
"But," he pointed out helpfully, "I woke up naked."
"Yeah, well," Bucky watched, fascinated, as the man's cheeks warmed and turned bright pink. The blush continued down his neck as well, "I couldn't seem to stop you from taking your clothes off."
Atta boy, last-night-Bucky! Way to give it the old college try.
"But I eventually got you into the guest room to sleep it off."
"Oh," That seemed reasonable. But also disappointing, "You should've had sex with me. It could've been my birthday present."
"That's exactly what you said last night," Blondie laughed again.
"Well," Bucky pushed out his bottom lip in a pout, "Clearly you didn't listen."
Blondie shook his head and reprimanded him, "You were drunk, Bucky."
"Birthday drunk is different. It doesn't count." He really was a child sometimes.
Blondie humored, shook his head, "Go take a shower. You'll feel better." He turned to walk out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
Bucky didn't have the energy to figure out his own plan, so he just followed McB's. he found toothpaste in the medicine cabinet and felt significantly less gross once his mouth no longer tasted like vomit.
He dropped the fleece blanket and stepped into the shower. It could easily fit a second grown person. The two walls were just clear glass from floor to ceiling and the other two were a light green tile. There were two shelves recessed from the tile with a couple bottles resting on the. The best part, Bucky realized, as he turned the knob was the rainfall shower head above him. Hot water cascaded around him like a water fall.
Oh, this was a treat. Clint I'll-Use-All-The-Hot-Water Barton cause Bucky to take short, quick showers at their apartment. It had been a long time since he wasn't racing a hot water heater.
Bucky tilted his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the heat. His long, messy hair grew heavy with the weight of the water, but Bucky didn't mind. He felt some of the tension in his muscles dissipate, and the aspirin must've kicked in because his head wasn't throbbing as hard as before.
His host seemed more than hospitable so far, and Bucky had no idea when he'd have a chance like this again, so he luxuriated under the water. He didn't even feel bad about it.
He tentatively sniffed at the bottle of shampoo. It looked expensive and smelled like lemongrass. He liked it immediately.
Bucky took his time work the shampoo into his hair, as bits and pieces of last night came back to him.
He remembered getting ready to go out. He'd picked out his tightest skinny jeans and loose v-neck shirt. Clint and Pete had surprised him, saying they were taking him to Hydra for his birthday. That wasn't one of their usual haunts. They tended to stick to the campus bars with their cheap watered down beer and lax observational skills when checking IDs.
It wasn't often they went far from campus, mostly so they wouldn't have to drive back. And, it was almost never that they went some where with a cover charge. Paying to drink was an atrocious idea, especially when they had a bottle of Nat's crappy vodka in the freezer. But Hydra had been open for less than a year, and it was still new, and it's all anyone talked about. They had wanted to do something exiting for his birthday. So the three piled into an Uber and went thirty miles away from campus. Plus, the bouncer let him in for free because it was his birthday! Win/win.
As soon as they entered the Nightclub and downed a couple of shots is when things started to get blurry for Bucky.
Trying to think chronologically, Bucky worked his way through what he could remember.
Number one - he remembered entering Hydra. He remembered the low lights and booming bass and massive crowd of people on the dance floor.
Surprising himself, he had a handful more of clear other memories too. Apparently his brain hadn't been as scrambled as he thought when he got drunk.
Number two-
Bucky felt perspiration bead at the small of his back as his hips swayed to the beat of the song. He turned around to see Pete behind him, one arm loose around a girl's waist. Bucky laughed out loud as he plastered his front against Pete's back, forcing his friend to dance with both Bucky and the pretty girl. Pete looked over his shoulder and gave Bucky a smirk.
Bucky leaned closer to Pete's shoulder just so he could yell in hopes his friend would hear him, "This is the best birthday ever!"
"Hell yeah!" was the response he received. The song started to die down as another one quickly bleed into it, the music never stopping.
His dance partner's mouth was suddenly attached to the neck of the girl in front of him. Bucky laughed again, pleasantly tipsy, and spun his body away from Peter. There was a brunette woman grinning at him, and he immediately placed his hands on her hips as they started to dance together.
There was space between their bodies, but Bucky could feel the heat from her body as well as the others on the floor. It was much too loud for conversation, so he just grinned and let them move together. His eyes scanned the room and could see past bodies to see the crowd around the bar. A very attractive and very large blonde man, had his eyes glued to Bucky's body.
He loved going out.
Bucky dug his fingers into his hair, rubbing vigorously to remove the shampoo, before he switched to equally good smelling conditioner.
Number three-
Bucky approached the bar, all smiles. The bartender grinned, "What'll it be?"
"Ummm," Bucky's bit his bottom lip as he tried to decide. Seemed like too much work. "Something sweet."
"You got it." He watched as the bartender mixed something bright pink with vodka and something else and passed it to Bucky, gesturing upwards. "It's on the house."
Bucky shuffled toward the end of the bar, finding a spot to set his drink down so he didn't down it too quickly. He knew he'd all ready had a couple shots and something Clint bought from him. He knew he was getting past tipsy, which meant not throwing this one back. That was fine with him, it was delicious.
"Buy you a drink?" A dark hair main to his right was cocking an eyebrow at him. Bucky may have been a little drunk, but not enough that he didn't recognize the way the man was leering at him. Bucky didn't mind being checked out, in fact he typically preened under an appreciative gaze. But something about the way this guy was just looking at him felt sleazy. He didn't like it.
"No thanks," He bit down on his straw, "I all ready have one."
The man shrugged and gave Bucky a frown before walking away.
He took another sip and turned towards his left. Sitting on a stool, lips wrapped around some expensive looking hipster beer, was a very, very attractive man.
Wow. Bucky liked them beefy, and this guy was huge and all muscles straining under a light blue button down shirt.
Bucky's mouth opened and the straw dropped back into his glass. He may have whimpered a bit. He want sure.
Bucky watched fascinated as the man's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. His throat was clean shaven and Bucky wanted to run his tongue along it.
"You're pretty," he couldn't help himself; stupid alcohol-addled brain.
The bottle was placed on the bar top and the man's body titled to face him. The man looked sort of incredulous of a moment, hopefully ignoring that Bucky was looking at him like a piece of meat, and then laughed, "Thanks."
"What's your name?" It wasn't even a line. He was just pretty and Bucky wanted a name to go with that face. With that strong jawline. With those deep blue eyes.
A little smirk, "Steve."
Awww, Steve. He looked like a Steve.
Bucky pursed his lips in a way he hoped was attractive, "You should buy me a drink."
"Thought you all ready had one." A perfectly arched eyebrow lifted in response.
Shit. That voice was deep and low and sounded like dark chocolate and Bucky wanted to hear it moan his name.
"Not from you," Bucky's voice was quiet, and he was sure there was no way the attractive stranger could hear him over the music, but he still seemed to understand.
"You sure you haven't had too many?" The man looked like he was really curious about the answer.
So what if Bucky's eyes were a little glassy and his cheeks a little flushed. It was warm in here, that was all. "But," he pouted his bottom lip out, "It's my birthday!"
"Yes," The man gave him a large, surprisingly kind, smile in return, "I can see that."
"Huh?" It took Bucky a moment of confusion to remember the headband he was wearing. Damn it, Nat. She had dropped it off before they went out, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. He actually thought he might take up wearing headbands because of it. His hair was tied up in a sloppy bun at the top of his head, but dancing tended to make his hair fall and get in his eyes and his headband had held it all back.
Of course, it was also lined with pink floof and topped with a big silver crown. The was a purple glittery 21 on the center of the crown. It was obnoxious, and he loved it. Plus, free drinks, so there.
"This is my song!" Before Bucky said anything about the crown, the bass got louder and the beat of the new song started up. This was his jam. He had to dance. He quickly downed the rest of his drink, and held the empty glass out to the man. "I have to dance! I'll be back after this song for you to buy me a drink!"
Huh. Steve. Well, at least that seemed to add up. A masculine strong name, for the most masculine, most attractive man he'd ever seen. His initial attraction to the man was definitely on point, because he seemed all sorts of Bucky's type. He liked them big, and despite his ex-boyfriend, he liked them blonde, he liked a sense of humor, and he liked kind eyes.
Bucky rinsed out the conditioner, and grabbed the body of body wash. He squeezed some into his hand and began to lather it over his body.
And, having remembered some other snippets of last night, he was sure that Steve wasn't a drug dealer, so that was another point for him.
He didn't remember everything, but he remembered asking Steve what he did, and hadn't expected a dull answer like, "I'm in marketing." He didn't remember telling Steve his name, but he had a flash of Steve shaking his head and saying, "Geeze. A kid's name for a kid." And Bucky later purring, "You should take me home." He also knew Steve had told him to tell his friends that he was leaving. And he couldn't place all of it, but he vaguely remember getting into Steve's apartment, taking of his clothes, and Steve shaking his head and telling Bucky, "I'm 34, and you're 21. I'm way too old for you."
Oh, that's right. Steve had seemed really hung up on the age difference last night. Bucky's response had been to take off his pants.
Okay, so Steve was old. But he was also hot. Bucky was pretty sure those things balanced each other out. And, he liked older guys. It wasn't that he was attracted to older men specifically, it's just that after the trainwreck that was his relationship with Brock Rumlow, the idea of dating someone more mature had a hell of a lot of merit.
And screw dating, he'd be fine just getting into Steve's pants. Bucky could be that the man had plenty of experience and knew what he was doing. Seriously, before dating Brock, Bucky didn't think that there was such thing as a bad blowjob. But he had been horrible wrong. Bucky liked guys being bitey during sex, but that was too much.
Bucky rinsed off and lingered under the hot water for a few more minutes just because it felt so good.
He stepped out of the shower and enjoyed the soft feeling of the towel as he dried himself off.
Well, now what?
Bucky secured the towel around his waist, before opening the bathroom door and looking left and right down an empty hall way.
"Uh, Steve?" He tentatively called out, only ten percent of him thought he'd get the name wrong. And it wasn't even that he felt that awkward. Being caught nearly barfing in the hall was way worse. This was nothing in comparison.
His beautiful blonde host turned the corner, and Bucky was thankful to see clothes in his hands.
"Your clothes weren't dry yet," Steve looked apologetic andBucky thought it was adorable. As if the guy had to apologize for going out of his way and washing Bucky's things, "But I thought these might fit you for now."
Stepping back into the bathroom, Bucky now found himself in a pair of flannel pants that were pooling at his ankles with extra length and a shirt that was just a bit too wide for his shoulders. Steve was at least six inches taller than him, and although he was fit and went to the gym a couple times a week, he was nothing like Steve, all big and muscley and delicious.
Bucky found himself wandering into a large kitchen. He noticed his wallet, crappy cell phone, and crown and perched together on the edge of the counter.
He also noticed a steaming mug, that was not-so-subtly being pushed in his direction, by the giant dude who was currently flipping pancakes.
"Coffee!" He wasn't ashamed of his exclamation. This was literally the happiest he'd ever been.
Steve's kitchen was huge and Bucky found himself wandering towards the big floor to ceiling windows along the back wall. All the sudden he realized that they were in Manhattan, and quite a few floors up. "We're no where near NYU are we?"
Steve looked up after setting a plate full of pancakes at the edge of the counter with a tilt of his head, indicating that Bucky should take a seat on the stool there. "No, we're not," He shrugged, "Don't worry though, I can drive you to your place after breakfast."
"Breakfast?" Bucky was surprised. It's not every night he goes home with a guy, doesn’t sleep with him and then the guy makes him breakfast in the morning. Actually even when he does go home with guys and sleep with them, it's not like he gets home cooked meals in the morning either.
"Yeah," Steve turned and puled a bottle out of the fridge that Bucky recognized as Gatorade, "And drink that too. I know it probably doesn't go too well with pancakes, but I don't want you to be dehydrated after this morning."
And that's how Bucky found himself eating pancakes with a man who, despite seeing him naked, was practically a stranger, and also the most attractive and hospitable person he'd ever met in his life.