An almost uncomfortable silence fills the group's apartment building while [Y/N] waits for Bucky. In order to get as little attention as possible from their friends, they had agreed to meet by the elevator downstairs. It had taken so long to get ready that [Y/N] and Natasha were sure that Bucky would be waiting for her already. But once they arrived downstairs, silence surrounded them. Natasha, the only person allowed to stay until [Y/N] gets picked up, gets a restless look from the latter. [Y/N] feels impatient and whilst she's looking forward to the evening with Bucky, the seconds of waiting seem to turn into minutes. She could swear that they're waiting for 10 minutes already but in reality, not even 2 minutes have passed. Natasha grins at her friend as she was just waiting for her real emotions take over her calmness. A few months ago they had spent weeks talking about Bucky and now her friend is finally going on a date with him. Natasha couldn't be happier for her, yet she feels a slight pain in her heart because she misses Bruce so badly right now. Nodding towards the elevator, she shows [Y/N] its light that indicates that someone is on their way down to them.
[Y/N] doesn't even notice how her breathing starts to go unevenly while she looks at the light until the elevator comes to a stop. She breathes in the air nervously, waiting for the elevator doors to open to see Bucky. She uses this short period of time to calm her nerves again, not knowing where this nervousness and joy come from. But when the doors finally open, the sight surpasses everything that [Y/N] expected. Bucky is alone, she would have thought Steve was with him. His long hair is cut off, his beard, which he hadn't shaved in the last few days, is trimmed so that it now accentuates his facial features. He is wearing dark jeans, a light shirt, over it a black jacket and, as usual, his gloves to hide his arm and hand. Even before he stands in front of her, she can smell his perfume. An unusual scent, in addition to the familiar smells of deodorant and shower gel.
A slight smile lies on his lips when Bucky walks up to his date and looks her up and down. Before either of them can say anything, Natasha grins cheekily at both of them. "You better bring her home safely before midnight, Barnes."
[Y/N] has to giggle while Bucky can only roll his eyes as he puts his arm around her shoulders to accompany her outside. "He's a good 100 years old, that shouldn't be a problem, Natasha" laughs [Y/N] and is immediately punished by Bucky with a poke in the side. "You really wanna state our date by being a meanie?" he complains jokingly.
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Natasha had told [Y/N] that she had chosen a small restaurant, but she hadn't mentioned how romantic it was. But only a few minutes' walk away they are in a backyard of a side street. Ivy rises up on the outside wall of the restaurant, the tables are decorated with white tablecloths and candles and are only illuminated by the dimmed light of the few lamps on the outside walls. Bucky was also amazed by the romantic place but he has already recovered and smiles at [Y/N] as he pulls out the chair for her. If she wouldn't know him so well, [Y/N] would certainly not notice that his thoughts are racing at the moment. His smile is gentle, but it doesn't go as high as when he really smiles at her. His eyes flicker as if they are trying to follow his thoughts and on his forehead there is a slight thought line that is even more visible now that he has short hair. But somehow [Y/N] knows that he is only worrying about tonight, which makes her appreciate his company even more.
The waiter asks the two of them if they already know what they want to drink and Bucky asks him for a wine recommendation, which he then orders. "What?" he asks afterwards when the waiter is gone and looks at [Y/N] with a raised eyebrow.
"I would hardly have recognized you, Barnes. You look so different. What happened to the modern Jesus?"
[Y/N]'s cheeky grin infects Bucky and the corners of his mouth bend upwards before he sighs and rolls his eyes. "Steve said it would be better if I no longer resemble the wanted posters so much and, I quote, 'better show up on a date a little more neat than I usually show myself at home'."[Y/N]'s grin grows wider as she imagines Steve Rogers of all people giving his best friend a talk about dates. But women adore him, and not just because of 'America's ass,' as many say. After all, Steve knows how to style as if he belongs to this decade. "Whatever is on your mind, Sharp, I know it's something cheeky."
"Not true!" [Y/N] defends herself laughing. "It's different. But it suits you. You look really good."
They sit across from each other and look at each other with raised eyebrows, nobody says a word. Even when the waiter comes back with the ordered wine and the menus, Bucky only briefly lifts his eyes to thank the waiter and then looks back at [Y/N] with the same look, not even looking at the menu in his hand. "What are you doing?" he asks her at some point.
[Y/N] puts the menu in her hand aside and crosses her hands on the table, leaning forward a little to look at Bucky even more intensely. "You know, when a woman says to a man that he looks good, it is really fine for him to compliment her on how she looks too."
Now Bucky can no longer hold back his grin and [Y/N] can literally watch it grow. "Well, it would be pretty boring if I did exactly what you expect me to do, wouldn't it?"
His answer hits her so unexpectedly that she leans back laughing and reaches for the menu. Instead of also reading it too, Bucky looks at his date for a few more seconds and enjoys the sound of her laughter and how small dimples form in her cheeks. He had never noticed this before until a few days ago but once noticed, he is unable to look at anything else when she laughs.
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"Well, James Buchanan Barnes... tell me a little bit about yourself" [Y/N] prompts, as if they were on a real date and earns a look from Bucky that's a mixture of confusion and surprise. "I thought you wanted to practice" she explains and Bucky nods. He thinks for a while, but then realizes that he doesn't know what to say. [Y/N] realizes that and grins. "We really have to work on that."
"Well, I can hardly tell a woman that I went to war in 1943."
[Y/N] doesn't let his answer impress her. Instead, she leans closer and asks "How old are you?" before she takes a sip of her wine. Bucky's answer "100" in a dry manner makes her almost choke on her drink because she has to laugh. "Well, I don't think you can tell a woman that on a first date. Unless she knows who you are."
"Well, what should I tell her then?"
"Well, physically you are in your 30s, I would say. How old exactly you have to work out for yourself. But 30-something sounds better than 100."
Bucky grins. "Do you feel better now? 30-something instead of 80 or 90?"
"One more cheeky phrase, Barnes, and my foot will find your shinbone. And believe me, those heels I'm wearing can hurt a lot."
Grinning, Bucky leans back and holds his hands up soothingly before he goes back to eating. "If this were a real date, I would have taken you out to dance. But I have to admit that swing or foxtrot are probably not that popular these days."
"No distracting!" [Y/N] rebukes him. "You have to know what to tell a woman about yourself instead of remaining silent for hours." Yet, she can't shake off the thought of dancing with Bucky Barnes.
"And what would that be? I don't even have a job to tell her about!"
"You do something with martial arts" explains his friend dryly. "No lie" she adds shrugging. Satisfied, she leans in the chair and looks closely at Bucky, who is thinking about the whole thing, while the thought line reappears on his forehead. "As for your past ..." she continues. "You can still tell stories of your youth. You can talk about your friendship with Steve."
"What about hobbies?" asks Bucky, surprised at how easy it is for her to find these ideas.
"Reading" [Y/N] grins at him. "How many times have you read The Hobbit? Have you even looked at the other books on your shelf?"
"I have!" Bucky defends himself immediately. "And already read some of them!"
"You see... reading, sports. For a man these are quite a few hobbies."
This time, Bucky takes a sip of their wine and then leans forward. His eyes are full of curiosity as he speaks. "What are your hobbies?"
"Are we finally showing interest in the other person?" [Y/N] jokes and tries to hide her nervousness. She is not prepared for counter-questions at all.
"Who's trying to distract now?" As Bucky speaks, he raises his right eyebrow, his lips forming a mischievous grin. "What are your hobbies?" he repeats his question. "Your real hobbies. Not your alibi hobbies."
"Reading" she replies more meekly. "And painting." The second part of her answer surprises her herself, because she painted a lot during her time at Hydra in order to be able to process her thoughts and fears. But it feels as if painting was a real passion of hers, whose memories arouse strong longings. "I used to paint a lot" she adds, as if she remembers, but it's nothing more than a strong inner feeling.
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The evening continues as fun and relaxed as it began. Their conversations alternate between banter and serious topics, only interrupted by the occasional silence while they enjoy their dinner.
Of course, Bucky begins to ask [Y/N] questions about her past, which she tries to answer as good as possible without lying or worrying her friend. As long as she doesn't know whether she has simply suppressed her past or whether it has been erased after all, it is enough for Steve to know. She knows Bucky. He would just rack his brains over and think about his own past. He would feel sorry for her when pity is nothing she needs. [Y/N], on the other hand, tries to ask Bucky questions that he would be asked on a real date in order to prepare him for future dates. The thought that he might even be sitting in this restaurant with another woman gives her an uncomfortable feeling, which she tries to ignore. There's no need to think about future women Bucky hasn't even met yet.
The latter recounts the fact that Steve persuaded him to wear this new outfit and that his hair hasn't been this short since the 1940s but even though he's repeating himself, [Y/N] watches him with a smile. His facial features are constantly changing and a pouting expression replaces the previous smile. She can see that Bucky is clearly having a hard time talking about himself like the past 70 years haven't happened. And suddenly [Y/N] is relieved that she is his date tonight because there is no topic in his life that bores her or that he should hide. She likes the relaxed Bucky, who gives her his charming smile and cracks cheeky jokes because he doesn't have to worry about what he says. She loves it when his eyes flash provocatively at her or how his forehead wrinkles while thinking.
Without thinking about it, [Y/N] reaches out her hand over the table and takes Bucky's hand in hers. She hadn't even noticed that he had never taken off his gloves until her delicate fingers are now touching the synthetic leather. Bucky, looking at her in surprise by this action, sees the brief surprise in her eyes. It is only a brief flash but he knows her too well not to notice these small details. "I know it's not easy. But instead of focusing on the things that have changed, maybe we should focus on the things that are going well tonight." [Y/N]'s voice is very delicate, almost cautious, and while Bucky looks at her, he can see the reflection of the flickering candlelight in her eyes. "You keep telling me what you would have done differently or how quickly this change came. But ..." [Y/N] pauses briefly until she has found the right words and to make sure that Bucky doesn't get her wrong. "You are sitting in a nice little restaurant, you look really good and you have a not so bad company. The evening is going well, we have enough things to talk about and you are also prepared for your next dates."
Bucky immediately understands what his friend is getting at. Still, his focus remains on her final words for too long. His next dates...
He knows that this was his goal for tonight, the actual reason he had asked her out. But at this moment he cannot imagine sitting across from another woman, looking into a different pair of eyes than [Y/N]'s [y/ec] eyes or seeing a different smile than her radiant smile that dimples her cheeks. "You're right" he mumbles and moves the hand that [Y/N] had taken to his mouth. His lips touch the back of her hand almost too gently as he places a kiss on it. "I'm sitting here like a grumpy old man when I'm having a really nice evening with an amazing woman like you."
[Y/N] blushes as she has not expected to get a compliment like this. She is used to Bucky being nice to her or compliment her and maybe she is just imaging things or he is taking the practicing serious, but there's something about his words tonight that is extra charming and leaves her fluttered.
Their dinner is already coming to an end which leaves an unspoken question: what now? They could just end their date and head back home. After all, it seems that Bucky got the hang of dates again. [Y/N] leans back once more while both wait for the bill and looks at Bucky with warm eyes. The soft light of the evening frames his face and makes his features appear even softer, while his beard stubble bathe him in dark features, his white teeth shine when he smiles at her. Times, but most exactly evenings and nights, like this are rare. Times, when he's truly relaxed. Of course, there are moments when she can feel and see his tension when he thinks about a painful detail in his life. But he's feeling really comfortable and more detached most of the time tonight than usually. On evenings like this, she appreciates his company even more. His change and progress are clearly visible. More than a year ago he had barely exchanged a word with her and hid in his apartment, trying to keep her away from him before she was nothing but a comrade in battle afterwards. But now he's sitting across from her and laughs. He laughs from the bottom of his heart, so that the corners of his mouth reach up to his eyes, where small wrinkles form. His eyes shine, and not just because of the lights in the restaurant. They shine because he's happy. Truly happy. And even if he is not always that happy, [Y/N] can't get enough of his well-being. She could talk to him for hours and crack jokes with him after one of them lost one of their countless staring competitions.
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"Well, we might can't go dancing but if you're interested to continue this date, we could go to the cinema. There's something retro about that too" [Y/N] says when they leave the restaurant.
"My pleasure" Bucky answers and they begin to walk down the streets. [Y/N] is relieved that she went through Natasha's ideas and checked the routes so that she can lead him the way now without using google maps. The conversation between them becomes softer, calmer and more relaxed. Since it has already gotten a bit cooler and in order to feel a little more secure, [Y/N] has hooked herself under Bucky's arm while they walk on. They talk in softer voices for a few minutes, until the cinema is already visibly nearby when Bucky suddenly stops walking. [Y/N] looks at him surprised and their eyes meet. His gaze is soft, but with a certain nervousness. Again, [Y/N] admires how much he can say with his eyes only. He can express the whole world of emotions in them. "I read the Hobbit in 1937 when it first came out" he explains out of context. "It gives me a feeling of nostalgia and a certain normality. When things get too much for me, I read a few lines to calm my mind. That's why the book is always laying around." Her gaze of amazement softens and Bucky can see the lights of the night reflect in her eyes as a gentle smile crosses her lips, herself still holding onto his arm.
"Thanks for telling me" she says softly, caring. It is not often, almost rare, that Bucky speaks openly about his well-being. He mostly tries to cope with it on his own to not burden his friends, so [Y/N] appreciates this honesty very much.
Bucky continues to look at [Y/N] and gets lost in her [y/ec] eyes. He wants her to know. To know what bothers him. Because it feels good to share these things with her. "Hey, why don't we make this a real date?" he asks gently. "Would you like that?"
"James Buchanan Barnes... Are you asking me out?" [Y/N] replies with a grin on her lips that grows wider with every second as she begins to proceed his words.
"I know I said it's for practice only but why don't we just enjoy tonight like it's a real one. No allusions, no 'ifs' or theories. Just you and me having a lovely time together. You deserve it." And he means every word. He wants to make her feel like she makes him feel every day. The feeling of being special. The feeling that someone really cares about her and shows her how amazing she is. He would like to give her the feeling of being desired and enjoy her near for at least one night, without any jokes about 'real dates'. He wants a real date. With her.
[Y/N] blushes under Bucky's intense gaze and the softness in his voice. "So a real date with holding hands, you pay for the movie and snacks and walk me home afterwards?"
"As for accompanying you home, I'm not so sure. It would be a huge detour!" answers Bucky and they both laugh. Bucky's free hand wanders to her face, which is covered by her hair, which is a little tousled by the light breeze of the evening. He gently strokes it out of her face and [Y/N] shudders from the gentle touch. "Only if you want to, of course."
"Who could say no to a date with you?" [Y/N] replies gently and smiles lovingly at Bucky.