“Just try,” Sam says, shoving Steve towards the bar.
“Sam!” Steve hisses, but it’s too late — he’s already bumped into the man he’s been ogling half the night.
The guy starts a little, dropping the book he’s been reading. “Sorry!” Steve manages.
“It’s alright,” the guy says, looking up. Then he looks up, obviously checking Steve out. “Hey,” he says, voice sounding a little lower than it did before.
Steve can’t help it; he blushes. “Hi, uh, you’re alone?” he asks, and he can hear Sam snicker behind him.
The guy smiles, sort of leans back on his bar stool. “Mmm-hmmm,” he says, and Steve can’t stop staring at his plump lips. “Why, you want a drink?”
“If you’re not busy,” Steve says, looking at the book, which he can see now is heavily-annotated.
The guy seems to trace Steve’s gaze and shuts the book. “Just over-preparing. First classes start tomorrow.”
Steve nods, chuckles. “Oh, I know,” he says. It’s pretty much all he’s thought about since he decided to put that GI Bill to good use.
“I’m Bucky,” he says, reaching out a hand.
Steve takes it. His grip is firm and… lingering.
“Steve,” he says.
Bucky smiles again. “I’ve got good drinks over at my place, if you’re—“
“Yes,” Steve says. “Let’s go.”
— —
“Jesus,” Bucky says, rolling over the next morning. His hair is a goddamn mess, and Steve’s pretty proud to have made it that way.
Steve yawns, stretches. His nerves have dissipated somewhat, thanks to Bucky and his amazing hands.
“Mornin’,” Bucky says, looking over at Steve and smiling.
“Hi,” Steve says, unable to keep the dumb smile off his face.
They look at each other for a few moments, just soaking each other in. They hadn’t had much time for conversation last night, but Steve had fun. He can already tell that Bucky has a great sense of humor, and he’s obviously incredible in bed, and Steve really wants Bucky to ask him for his number.
Bucky sighs. “I hate to lose the view, but I gotta get ready for my class.”
“What time is it?” Steve asks.
“Quarter to eight,” Bucky says.
Steve nods. “Same.” He’ll have just enough time to get home, change, and get to class. Not enough time to worry about anything.
“You busy tonight?” Bucky asks, then ducks his head. “I know it’s a little overeager but I’d like to actually take you on a date.”
“I’m free,” Steve says. “Very free.”
Bucky looks back up and smiles. “Meet me here at seven?”
Steve nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I will.”
— —
Maybe it was naive of Steve to think that he wouldn’t actually see Bucky again until that night.
— —
“I can’t believe the front row was already taken when we got here,” says one young woman as she slips into the seat in front of Steve. They’re in a relatively small lecture hall, but it had also surprised Steve that the entire front row was taken, even despite him getting there ten minutes early.
The girl next to her sighs. “I know. The one class with a decent view and we’re stuck in the third row.”
“Jesus, Prof is dreamy. This is my fourth class with him and I’m not even a history major.”
The other girl laughs. “He’s why I’m a history major,” she says.
Steve wants to laugh, but keeps it to himself. Maybe he would be a little more excited about the prospect of a dreamy professor if he were a little younger, but he’s older now. More mature. Crushing on the professor seems like a cute thing to do when you’re young, though, and he can’t blame the women (or apparently the entire front row) for having a little fun.
He readies his computer and focuses on preparing a Word document. He doesn’t even notice that the professor entered the room until he’s standing at the podium and starting to speak.
In a very familiar voice.
“Welcome to the History of World War II. I’m Professor Barnes, your sergeant for the rest of the semester—“ While the rest of the class giggles Steve feels the blood drain from his face. “And I…” Professor Barnes — Bucky — looks up and locks eyes with Steve. “Steve?” he chokes out and the class all swivel their heads, trying to find whoever it is Steve is.
Steve sinks down in his seat.
It’s going to be a long semester.
I don’t usually add onto ficlets, but @lisa-in-the-sky donated to the National Center for Transgender Equality for a continuation, so here it is!!
– –
“Oh my God,” Bucky moans the moment Steve shuts the office door. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a student?”
“I didn’t think I had to?” Steve says, leaning against the wall of the cramped office. Bucky flops into a comfortable-looking chair behind a desk covered in books and papers. Steve sees an old mug of coffee sitting on the desk, looking sludgy and a little gross. “How often do you actually use this office?”
“I don’t have office hours over the summer, and don’t dodge my question, Steve,” Bucky says.
“I answered your question!” Steve says, starting to lose his patience.
Bucky nods, sighs, shuts his eyes. “Fine, you’re right, you’re right,” he repeats, and then opens them to look at Steve again. “And I don’t say that mildly — I’m an academic. I hate being wrong.”
Steve can’t help it — he cracks a smile. He decides to give Bucky a break. “I’m what they call a returning student, I guess. Two tours in Iraq. I’m back in school for the first time in a while.”
Bucky nods. “That is… incredibly reasonable, and hey, thanks for your service.”
“No problem,” Steve says with a chuckle. “I thought you were a PhD student or something. You seem to be a little young to be a professor. It hadn’t crossed my mind.” Bucky frowns. It’s kind of cute. “You tenured?” Steve asks. Bucky shoots him an unimpressed look. “So I’ll take that as a no?”
Bucky mutters, “I don’t see how that’s relevant,” which really only grants credence to the impression that he does not, in fact, have tenure.
“Well, you could probably get away with it if you had tenure,” Steve says.
Bucky glares. “Ha.” He bites his bottom lip. “So, you should probably drop this class.”
“But I heard such good things about the professor,” Steve says.
Bucky perks up. “Yeah?” he asks, feigning nonchalance. “Like what?”
Steve could laugh at how interested in. Maybe he likes compliments, and—
And Steve doesn’t want to go there. It’s not like this can really be a thing, right?
“Well,” Steve says, taking a step closer, even despite his reservations. “I looked at your Rate My Professor page before I signed up for the class.”
“Did you now?” Bucky asks.
“Mmm-hmmm,” Steve says. “You know the hotness rating?” Bucky nods. “Full points.”
“But what did they say about my grading style?” Bucky asks, and Steve grins.
“And the women sitting in front of me—“
“Paulette and Aya?” Bucky asks.
“Sure,” Steve says. “They—“
“No, no, no,” Bucky interrupts, laughing and waving his hands in front of him. “Aya is one of my advisees, and I need to be able to talk about future class selection without blushing.” He drops his hands. “So?” he asks.
“So what?” Steve says.
“So, are you dropping the class?” Bucky asks, like somehow Steve had gotten lost in the conversation.
Steve frowns, slowly walks to the other side of the desk until he’s hovering over Bucky. “Well,” he says. “I really wanted to take the class.”
“Yeah, well, I really want you to take your—“
He stops, wide-eyed and groans. “See, I can’t say something like that until you go to the registrar’s office and drop my fucking class.”
“And if I do, what will you do?”
Bucky bites his lip, pausing for a long second. “Take you on that date,” he says. “Which is something that I’d really like to do.”
He’s nervous, Steve realizes.
So, fuck it.
“How’s Professor Willhampton?” he asks.
Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Why, you wanna sleep with him, too?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “No. He’s teaching the class on Vietnam this semester.”
Bucky leans back in his chair. “You’re not taking that class.”
“Why’s that?”
“I think Willhampton got tenured during Vietnam. He’s old, he’s rude, and he has a slew of campus newspaper editorials about what a shitty person he is. And his class is a seminar. I don’t care how fast a learner you are; if you’re a first-year, you’re gonna start with an introductory course, maybe a 200-level if you’re feeling particularly frisky. Don’t want you to get in over your head.”
“Yeah, we’d hate that,” Steve mutters.
“So if you want an American history course, you’ll take the United States in the Western Hemisphere with Professor Wang or Westward Expansion with Professor—“
“Hey,” Steve interrupts.
“Huh?” Bucky asks, startled out of his speech. “What?”
“I like you,” Steve says. Bucky smiles. “Wanna walk me to the registrar’s office?”
“Sure thing,” Bucky says, and before Steve realizes what’s happening, Bucky pops out of his chair and is kissing him. He pulls back a moment later, smiling. “Some incentive,” he says.
“A-,” Steve says.
“What?” Bucky asks.
“Pretty good, but room for improvement.”
Bucky rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “C’mon, teacher’s pet. We can change your schedule and grab something to eat.”
“Perfect,” Steve says.
“Yeah,” Bucky responds. “Perfect.”
For the prompt post: “i was hitchhiking and you picked me up and WHOOPS YOU’RE A FAMOUS ROCKSTAR” au OOOOOOR “i had a one night stand the night before i started a college class and WHOOPS I ACCIDENTALLY BANGED THE PROFESSOR” Please and thank you!!!!!!!!
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the1timetraveller 