When the man reaches for his drink, Steve can’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on the brief splashes of colour at the man’s wrists. They’re gorgeous, swirls of colour and sharp lines disappearing under fabric, and Steve’s fingers itch to draw them.The man clears his throat, and Steve’s head jerks up, flushing as the man raises an eyebrow at him. He looks down pointedly, and Steve follows his gaze, to where his hand is still firmly wrapped around the cup. “Oh, uh, sorry,” Steve mumbles, quickly pulling his hand back, and the man - Bucky, according to the order ticket - grins.

“If you’re lucky I’ll show them to you properly sometime,” Bucky says easily, and Steve melts a little at the deep rumble of his voice. He blinks again, goes to respond, but Bucky’s turning, walking away with a sway in his step and a wink thrown over his shoulder.

Yeah. Fuck.

Steve is gone.

–

Or: the one where Steve owns a coffee shop, Bucky’s a greenwitch, and neither of them are okay, but they’re trying to be.

When Bucky was seven the Training Masters told him he had no magic, no potential, that he’d never be a witch. It wasn’t a surprise. Witches came from certain families and a certain class, just like magic was sterile and ordered and familiars were obedient and servile. That was simply the way the world worked.

Bucky grew up and got on with living his mundane life, knowing he was one hundred percent magic free. Which meant it came as something of a shock when the familiar appeared in his living room, claiming Bucky was his witch. It meant the Masters had been wrong. It meant Bucky had magic.

It meant, just maybe, that wasn’t the way the world had to work after all.

Steve Rogers is an avowed bachelor at the ripe old age of thirty. He’s never had a long term relationship, and he’s fine with that. He doesn’t need all that emotional baggage in his life. Then he meets and promptly falls for Bucky Barnes, new resident in his apartment building. The one who makes him feel like he only wants to be with one person, forever.

He just doesn’t know how to make that happen.

Lucky for him, he has friends who… tease him mercilessly. And then help. A lot. Steve gets a lot of opportunities to get to know his new neighbor and thinks everything is going great, until Bucky reveals to him his own long-term relationship ended badly, and he doesn’t want another…but he might be up for a friends-with-benefits deal. Even though it’s not exactly what he envisioned, Steve’s not about to say no to sex with Bucky, and he finds himself having fantastic sex, in a no-commitment relationship. Just like he always wanted. Until now.

Part 1 of The Match Game

“You have never once been careful in your entire life.” Bucky huffs out a laugh. He looks away. “Maybe I’m offended you didn’t think to ask me.” He says it like a joke, but he can’t bring himself to laugh again.

“Bucky,” Steve says, scandalized. “You’re my friend. I’m not gonna use you to experiment sexually.”

They look nothing like what they used to. Time and life have completely changed them. But as they sit there in silence, eating two halves of one cupcake, letting Brooklyn remind there where they came from, and enjoying a sky full of stars… They are those same little boys, somewhere deep down. For just a second, you’d be able to see them again.

And Bucky thinks to himself that maybe it’s little moments like these – fleeting as they may be – that remind him why life is still worth living.

Bucky Barnes, weary soldier, illegal immigrant, sarcastic sex worker. Steve Rogers, miracle of science, lonely man, disillusioned cop. Both of them on a collision course in this brave new world, like that’s not gonna end in sex and explosions.

Bucky Barnes is home from the army on two weeks R&R and going crazy. His friend Natasha suggests that he get laid and convinces Bucky to get the Grindr app. Gorgeous tiny blond artist Steve stands out among the profiles and, as nervous as he is, Bucky goes over to his apartment. But he’s pretty sure that Hook-ups are not meant to be like THIS.

DAY THREE: PAINT+ METAL ARM KINK + SUBSPACE

—

Steve frees his mouth to pant, “Bucky… Bucky… I… Can you…?”

“Hmm?” Bucky hums before pulling back with an obscenely loud wet sound, Steve’s dick falling against his belly.

“Want your fingers in me,” he manages, and his erection gives a twitch against the paint-smeared abs just at the thought.

Bucky gets a small smirk. “I think I can do that, yeah.”

But when he leaves the room and comes back quickly with the lube, Steve stops him when he makes to coat the fingers of his right hand.

“Oh, you want…” Bucky says slowly, feeling very aware of his metal hand again.

Steve blushes, suddenly looking embarrassed now. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I want whatever it is you want to give me.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Is that what you want, Steve?”

Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, exhaling quietly. He looks away and then back at Bucky, giving a self-conscious little nod. Bucky gives him a warm half-smile. “That’s all you ever hafta say. I’ll always give you whatever you want, baby doll.”