Herschel’s Symphony No. 17 in C Major: II. Adagio ma non troppo
Bucky was doing his cool down stretches. It was Sunday and he was sore since only his advance classes came today.
THUMP THUMP If you ain’t getting drunk THUMP THUMP
Bucky glares at the mirrored wall as it visibly vibrates. He just wants to cool down in peace, grab some Thai and go veg out on his couch. He can’t hear himself think over a synthesized voice shouting “shots” and “everybody” while the bass thrums. Ugh. It’s only the first day the gym next door has been open.
The rental space had been empty for six months and Bucky had made his peace after the nice old yarn lady had left. She would try to flirt with him and give him yarn, which resulted with him having a drawer full of yarn that he’ll probably never use. She had been quiet at least.
A week ago, construction had started and Bucky had snuck a peek and cringed at the black paint on the walls. It looked like it was going to be a gym and then the name went up.
Super-Soldier? What kind of a fucking name was that?
Bucky thought if someone was going to open a gym they should at least make it fun. Like Witness Fitness. Get it? You witness other people getting fit and yourself getting fit. Well if you actually go.
Bucky needed to stop talking to himself.
THUMP THUMP Like this Like that Yeah THUMP THUMP
The song has changed and Bucky has managed to cool down completely, but the walls are still shaking. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He adjusts his bun even though his hair didn’t want to cooperate today.
In his tights, tank top, and slippers he turns off his music, not that he was able to hear most of it, and grabs his keys. Locking up he assures himself that he is an adult and he can do this. He survived the academy. He has his own studio. He can be polite even if Natasha likes to tell him he has the face of an assassin when he’s focused.
Another deep breath.
He walks over and opens the gym door.
Bucky immediately registers punching bags, mats, boxing rings, and most importantly the music seems to have been turned down now that he’s here even though it’s telling him to “kick out the epic motherfucker.”
“What in the ever loving hell?” Bucky wonders quite loudly.
He gets a couple of odd looks and yes, he can see the few dumbasses laughing at his attire. Little do they know he can probably kick their asses and not break a sweat.
He spies a man behind a counter on his phone in the corner and stalks towards him. THe man fills out his shirt nicely and when he looks up gives Bucky a bright smile.
“How can I help ya?”
Bucky says, “I need to speak to the owner.”
“Oh, well, he’s actually over there,” the man says as he points towards another man in a boxing ring, “but I’m pretty much the brains around here. Name’s Sam. Are you sure I can’t help you?”
Bucky doesn’t hear the last part because as he followed Sam’s finger, his gaze was directed to a broad, sweaty back with muscles that Bucky would give his left arm to touch. The man’s body wasn’t only just perfect in Bucky’s opinion, but the way he moved was just so. So light on his feet. So much grace.
“Uh, I have to go.” Bucky made a very calculated and tactical retreat.
Bucky lets himself back into his studio. It’s not that bad. Bucky decides that maybe headphones may help. He decides that he’ll just practice a couple of moves to relieve this weird feeling he has. He only gets tangled five times.
Calling it a day he leaves the studio to meet up with Natasha for a quick drink and to prove he’s still alive, picks up his food and heads home.
Once Bucky gets to his apartment, he can’t stop thinking about that man at the gym. Fuck. He didn’t even get a name.
The next day, Bucky’s alarm goes off. With a grunt he gets up and gets ready for the day. He walks to the studio and some students for his first class are already there. He smiles and lets them inside. Maybe today will be a good day.
It starts during the four and five year olds’ class.
THUMP THUMP I know you want me, You know I want ya THUMP THUMP
The moms that stay for the class look a bit scandalized, but it’s not as loud as yesterday. Bucky knows what the song’s about, but prays to whoever or whatever is out there that the moms nor the kids know the lyrics.
Mommy’s got an ________ like a donkey.
Bucky’s eyes bulge. At least it was muted. At least the little kids didn’t hear the word ass in their ballet class. He stops the kids and tells the moms he’s really sorry, but he’s ending class early today.
The moms start packing their kids up while some send Bucky dirty looks because Pitbull is still going on in the background. Bucky massages the base of his neck with his right hand and hopes this doesn’t cause him to lose any of the kids.
As soon as the last person is out of the door, Bucky locks up and marches over to the gym. Sam is behind the counter again and waves as Bucky comes in. However, Bucky walks over to where he’s pretty sure the owner is watching and coaching a fight from outside one of the rings.
Bucky taps his shoulder while saying “Hey, pal. You the owner of this joint?”
The man turns around confused, looks Bucky up and down, and starts laughing. Between wheezing laughs, Bucky can make out something about his tights. His tights makes his already amazing ass look even more amazing so he doesn’t like where this is going. If it keeps going there, the man won’t like it either.
“Hey now!” Bucky hears from behind him. “Leave him alone. The man is a professional and if you don’t shut up, I’ll make you and then kick you out of my gym myself.”
Bucky turns and all his brain processes is blue eyes, blond hair, and shoulders he wants to do a handstand on. Maybe. Or hold on to for dirtier images his mind supplies.
The man that was laughing quickly shuts up.
“Steve,” the other man holds out his hand for Bucky to shake. “Heard you were looking for me?”
There’s a smile on Steve’s face and Bucky has lost his train of thought. Steve. Steve with strong hands. Bucky wonders if Steve could lift him.
“Uhh. Maybe? How much do you weigh?” Steve asks with a blush.
“Oh shit. Oh shit, I said that out loud. I’m sorry. I mean I came over here to talk to you not about that,” Bucky rushes out.
“Ok. We can talk in my office,” Steve points towards a door near Sam’s counter.
Bucky nods and then follows Steve.
“So what did you need from me?” Steve asks as he sits down and gestures to another chair for Bucky.
Bucky mentally (he makes sure this time) reminds himself that just because Steve is hot, he can’t lose business. “Well your music is really loud and it really messes with my lessons. More specifically with my four and five year olds. They had to listen to Pitbull!” The last word comes out with a little more alarm than what Bucky intended.
Steve looks at him for a minute and then, “Oh, shit. Oh, shit! Oh, man. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. When we were setting up, we set the main speakers along that wall and the rest surrounding the space. Oh, no.” Steve drags a hand over his face.
Now Bucky feels a little bit bad. Just a tiny bit.
“It’s fine. I mean it’s not that I don’t like the music, it’s just that I can’t have the kids listening to a song about getting blowjobs.”
At this Steve gets red.
“I’m so sorry… uhh...”
“Bucky. You can call me Bucky.”
“Bucky.” Steve smiles. “I really am sorry. I didn’t realize. I can open the gym later if you want? What time does your last class end?”
“Oh. Uhm. Six?”
They sit there just looking at each other for a bit until Steve says, “Hey, so I uhm, I don’t mean to be spying, or being creepy or anything, but I saw you dancing last week while we were doing the construction.”
“You’re amazing, Buck,” Steve says.
Bucky’s brain short-circuits and he thinks his mouth might be open.
“Well if you like watching me vertically, you should see me horizontally.” Bucky mentally facepalms.
Steve laughs and Bucky regrets everything except making him laugh.
“Do you want to grab dinner one of these nights? I’ve been meaning to go over there and ask,” Steve says.
“What about your gym?”
“Eh. Sam’s the one that actually runs it. I mostly do the private training during the day,” Steve replies.
“But it’s so quiet!” Bucky exclaims.
Steve laughs again and Bucky thinks he can get used to his laugh.
“There’s a lot of meditation involved at the beginning to control any anger that people may try to use in combat. Also, my next door neighbor likes to blast classical music so it works out,” Steve finishes with a smile.
“Well that’s an asshole move. You should go over there and say something or file a noise complaint,” Bucky grins.
“Yeah, he’s kinda cute so I might ask him out too.”
“Ha. Wanna go get dinner tonight?”
“Yeah, Buck, let’s go.”