Sam loved going to new places and trying different things. That day, he decided to try the small coffee shop he sees on his way to work, but never stops at. All Sam wanted was a simple black coffee to start his day off right before going to work. One would think that wouldn't be too much trouble. Try telling that to his batista. He squinted his eyes at the barista’s name tag and caught “James.”
“James. James,” Sam tried to catch his attention. James wouldn't look at him until Sam had repeated his name four times. When he did, Sam told his order in a polite tone, he privately thought, considering. James looked confused and, at this point, hadn't even so much as said a word to him. At this point, Sam racked his head for the day’s plans and even considered going without coffee. The horror. He shuddered.
“What,” James said gruffly. It wasn't a question, but a statement. What. Jesus, how was this guy up on the counter with the customers.
“Black coffee in your biggest size,” Sam said and repeated after a few more seconds of James looking confused. It was a good thing he’s used to waking up early, to run with Steve and lose every morning as the guy is a complete asshole, but is, unfortunately, his best friend, as a good amount of time had passed since he had entered this coffeeshop.
James seemed to be thinking thoughts filled with murder, if the stare he bestowed on Sam was an indication.
Sam was getting close to the end of his politeness quota for the day thanks to this one jerk and his slow as hell ass. Unfortunately, James was the only one in the shop and he was not a morning person, the seemed.
James finally seemed to recognize his words because he started moving to get the order filled. As he was moving about, albeit slowly as if he wanted to annoy Sam even more, Sam couldn't help noticing James. He made his apron work and he seemed lean but muscular underneath his black long-sleeved shirt. His bun was messy, but fashionably so. Sam also recalled his noticeable blue eyes even with that murder glare. He realized he was openly staring at James’s figure and stopped because he doesn't objective people. He wasn't raised that way.
“Don't even. He's an Asshole,” Sam thought to himself.
Finally, James called out his order in that resigned tone of his and Sam sighed.
The next day, Sam decided to go to his old coffeeshop, but his mind couldn't help wondering back to that Asshole of a person.
The day after, Sam went back to the coffee shop with the surprisingly good coffee and the asshole that is James.
Unfortunately, an ethereal woman by the name of Natasha was there. He couldn't believe that he was disappointed at the lack of James in the place when the goddess that is Natasha was right in front of him.
“Just a tall black coffee, thanks,” Sam said,while he tried to find James in the shop, unsuccessfully, sneakily.
“Coming right up,” Natasha said. She paused just for a second and said, “Do you need help with anything else?”
“No thanks,” Sam replied, after a very long second.
“Alright then,” Natasha said with a smirk and knowing eyes.
After he was handed his coffee and was in the middle of taking a sip, Natasha came back and said, “James has his shift tomorrow afternoon.”
Sam choked. Damn.
“Well, get his number and text him,” Steve, the other asshole, said when Sam described his situation during their daily morning run. Today, Steve actually ran at Sam’s pace. Hallelujah.
“But he's such an Asshole,” Sam replied and tried to act like he doesn't care James. Because he's an Asshole™.
“Well, my friend Bucky is great at those kinds of things. I can give your number to him and you can rant about that guy’s eyes to him or something,” Steve ran off without waiting for his answer.
“How are you so fit? You spend less time at the gym than me,” Sam yelled at Steve’s unanswering ass.
Why the fuck is he even friends with him?
After a few days, Sam decided to try the coffee shop with the good coffee.
“Can I help you?” James asked Sam, still with his murder glare.
“Give me whatever you want. I'm in the mood for anything,” Sam challenged as he matched James’s stare with his own.
James just looked at him and went back to work, quicker than the first time he served Sam coffee.
A few minutes later, James handed Sam the biggest frappuccino like drink he'd ever seen, heavily topped with whipped cream.
“I have a sweet tooth so here,” James grinned, which was both shocking and a little scary.
Sam internally cringed, but he was never the type of person to back off of challenges easily. He took a big gulp, gave a smile to James, that hopefully didn't look as fake as it felt, and gave him a thumbs up.
“Thanks,” Sam said and quickly backed out of the shop.
“What an Asshole,” Sam thought and had a suspicion James did that on purpose.
He decided to go back the next day because he was an idiot.
“I'm back,” he said to James.
“It seems so,” James replied. This was a huge difference from the James Sam met that first time. Maybe it was because it was the afternoon.
“I'm open to any recommendation,” Sam said, already regretting his choice.
James came back with a green tea that didn't seem so bad. Sam paid and started drinking it on the way out. It seemed that James filled the entire cup with sugar and added the tea to it as it was way too sugary and sweet.
Sam made an embarrassing noise, while he heard James chuckle in the background.
“I knew it!” Sam yelled as he marched back to the counter. “I knew you were fucking with me!”
“Well, your sweet face was just begging for it,” James replied with a small smile on his face.
Sam almost choked (for the second time. He has got to find better people to hang out with.).
“Steve texted me a few days ago,” was all James said.
“Steve? The tall, blond, All-American Steve who's shit at flirting and is an asshole?” Sam asked confusedly.
All James did was smirk. The bastard.
“Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Bucky,” James (no Bucky, no James, Bucky what) said, extending a hand to Sam. “Would you like to have a drink with me?”
Sam stared at the hand and couldn't believe what was happening. What the fuck. What the fuck. Steve has so many questions he's gonna be answering. Bucky?
Bucky (no James) looked nervous, so Sam shook his hand and smiled at the man with a racing mind. “Sure.”