Rain Dance


This is for the Nony who sent me that terribly sweet message earlier this week.  I haven’t been able to stop thinking of these two idiots, dancing in the rain.  (Probably should be rated M, no powers, AU.)

The music from the jukebox is loud, but not overbearing.  It’s currently playing classic rock, which Bucky doesn’t mind one bit.  He’s got a table in the back, two pints and two shots of Jameson in front of him.  He’s just about to pull out his phone to text when he sees Steve make his way to the back of the bar, shaking rain out of his hair and pulling off his coat.

He looks – Jesus he looks good.  His hair’s a little bit too long, and he’s shaking drops of rain out of it like a dog.  But the wide shoulders are even wider in the navy blue peacoat that he’s wearing, and the color, combined with the dark room, are making Steve’s eyes look dark blue.  He’s gorgeous. 

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GodDAMN this is some good writing.

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