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Sam can't act like flirting is hard. It's the opposite really. The art of flirting is one of the most natural, effortless talents Sam's been gifted with on this Earth and he's not about to pretend he don't got it.
How can he not use the god-given smile that stuns people every time he shows it off? He knows the little gap in between his teeth makes him all the more adorable and approachable which allows flirting to be even more languid. People just come right up to him and Sam takes them on one by one with inviting line after line, gentle touch after touch, and smile after breathtaking smile.
Sam loves it, he gets a little high from watching others fluster and gawk over him. Loves every reaction in the book since they're all positive. Sam knows they'll be positive reactions because he ain't gonna waste his time on those who don't seem interested. If someone's avoiding eye contact, looks unfriendly or unsettled, Sam can tell he won't get the reaction he wants which means he'll move past them.
Honestly, Sam wonders how other people struggle with flirting, it's just simply so easy.
So, it's no feat at all when Sam is tasked with going undercover at a gay bar. He slips on his leather pants and a tight, cropped tee to get the job done. He sits at the bar, stirring a tiny umbrella around his drink while scoping out the area. The first man that looks out of place is sitting at the end of the bar. He appears uncomfortable just being here which alerts Sam's instincts. This could be his target.
Sam motions the bartender over.
"Was thinking of buying that guy a drink, what's he drinking?" Sam plays casually.
"Oh, he drinks beer - never changes," the bartender nearly rolls his eyes like this man's consistent drink choice is a bother to him. There's definitely a familiarity here that Sam wasn't expecting.
"He's a regular?" Sam checks.
"Yep, here most nights," the bartender sighs like he's not very stoked about serving this man on a constant basis.
"Oh," Sam replies dumbly.
His assumption is off, the man is regular which means his vibe of discomfort must be customary. That's probably not his guy then. If it was, he should at least know how to pretend to fit in or not mix work with his regular bar of choice.
Sam's too distracted in his muses he misses the bartender grabbing a beer and then eying him.
"That'll be six bucks," the bartender relays.
"Right."
He can't take his offer back, he's gotta pay for this random dude's drink now. Well, at least it'll look natural. He's fitting in, Sam concludes contently and hands the worker some money.
The bartender stalks over to the brunette at the end of the bar and slides the bottle his way, pointing right back at Sam to reveal who bought it. The beer recipient goes a little red and doesn't even smile but he lifts three fingers in a polite wave to say thank you.
Sam smiles and waves back.
Whatever, Sam thinks, back to his mission. He spins around on his barstool and scans the rest of the bar when he feels a presence crowd next to him. He's not expecting to see the man he bought a beer for claiming the barstool next to his.
"Oh, hey," Sam expresses and it's probably the lamest Sam has ever sounded but he's actually caught off guard.
This is the type of guy Sam would usually check off as not interested. He seems too shy and uneasy in his own skin. Sam wouldn't usually waste his time on flirting with a guy like this no matter how attractive they might be. Sam can admit the brown-haired stranger is quite the looker.
The attractive stranger says something but it's too mumbled for Sam to hear under the booming music.
"What?" Sam presses loudly.
The man sheepishly blinks and then leans forward to get close to Sam's ear.
"Thanks for the beer," the man repeats louder.
"No problem, man," Sam returns.
Sam keeps his eyes forward assuming this is where their conversation will end. They sit in a beat of silence as Sam focuses on the prospects in front of him but in another moment the man is tilting toward him again.
"You um, you been here before?"
"Nah, first time," Sam replies.
The man nods and another awkward beat falls between them. Sam could easily drive the conversation. Conversing is easy, it doesn't need to have long, unnecessary pauses which is also another reason Sam would typically stray away from such nervous individuals.
Even though this man is posing as nothing more than a distraction to Sam's current assignment, he can't ignore his social instincts.
His hand flies out.
"I'm Sam," he presents with a kind smile.
The man peers down at Sam's hand and smiles a little crookedly. It would be cute if Sam knew what the hell it was for. Sam's brows furrow in, wondering why the guy's staring amusingly at his awaiting hand.
"You're definitely new here," the stranger comments but accepts the handshake.
"What'd you mean by that?" Sam snips not sure if he should be offended.
"No one's polite enough to shake hands here," the man reveals.
Sam's stomach drops a little, he retracts his hand quickly.
"Oh," Sam winces hoping this didn't blow his cover.
Something as simple as shaking a person's hand in a bar much too trashy is definitely a clue to tip someone off. Sam surveys the room once more trying to see if anyone noticed his mistake of proper etiquette.
"Bucky," the man next to him interrupts his scan.
Sam turns back to the stranger who's now wearing a relaxed smile on his face.
It's a nice smile for sure. See, this guy could undoubtedly flirt if he'd just ease up a bit. Maybe if Sam didn't have a mission to focus on, he'd entertain getting this guy's number.
"What?" Sam shakes his head.
The man's smile only broadens.
"That's my name," he clarifies.
"Bucky?" Sam judges, narrowing his eyes.
Bucky nods, looking once again amused by Sam's antics. Which Sam doesn't care for. He's typically completely in control and knows exactly how to guide an interaction but this guy is suddenly a lot more talkative than he expected.
"Where'd you get a name like that?" Sam challenges.
"Brooklyn," Bucky replies like that explains anything.
Sam nods but turns forward again. Bucky is taking too much of his focus away. He really doesn't have time to question this man's life story.
"Where're you from?" Bucky surprisingly revives the conversation yet again.
That's when Sam realizes this is totally on him. Of course, Bucky is trying to chat him up. Sam bought the guy a drink. He can't just pretend like he's not interested.
He's gotta figure out a way to get this guy to leave without being rude. That incites a bright idea that's bound to fix all his problems. He lets a sloppy grin cover his face and then leans in close to Bucky. He wraps an arm around the man's shoulders and tugs Bucky even closer. His mouth nearly presses against Bucky's earlobe.
"You know where I'm from? A little town located just at the back of this bar called the bathroom. Think you wanna head back there and wait for me? I'd love to give you a tour," Sam croons.
When he leans back Bucky's left with a stunned expression on his face but he quickly swallows and puts his drink down on the bar. He nods, a blush painting his face as he stumbles to his feet. Sam can't help but smile at the flustered man's missteps. This is a more standard reaction to his charm.
Bucky nods once more like he's worried Sam might have missed his first agreeing nod. Then he quickly stalks right to the back of the bar.
If Sam's being honest, he wouldn't mind taking himself up on this offer and meeting Bucky in one of the stalls. No, Sam's not usually a casual hook-up kind of guy, especially in dirty bar bathrooms but this is an unexpected twist of temptation, to say the least.
Unfortunately, Sam's undercover and so he doesn't have time to find out how delicious Bucky's pink lips might taste.
Sam spots two suspicious-looking men sneaking into a private room at the same moment he's daydreaming about the man waiting for him in the bathroom. He jumps off his chair and heads right for the private room when he's yanked backward. His arms cross forcefully behind his back and he feels the blade of a knife press against his side.
Right as he feels a hot breath start to ghost across his neck, Sam stomps down on the attacker's foot. He elbows the rib cage all while his other hand grabs the wrist with the knife and twists it backward.
Sam doesn't have much trouble after this. He's skilled enough - yes, even in tight leather pants - and more than prepared for this fight.
Although, the other guy does land one good hit across Sam's face. It angers Sam that now he's gonna have a nasty bruise for a few days but that only fuels the rest of the fight. It only takes a few more minutes before Sam has the man unconscious and tied against a wooden beam.
Sam identifies the man as his target and then calls in SHEILD. He waits with the passed-out criminal and peers around wondering if anyone caught the fight but no one seems to have noticed. The bar is dark, the music is loud and everyone is too absorbed in their own activities that not a single person is even glancing his way. Even now, with a man tied up on the floor in front of Sam.
So understandably it startles Sam when a voice sounds behind him.
"You could've just told me to leave."
Sam turns around and finds Bucky frowning like a sad puppy. In the split-second it takes Sam to fully turn, Bucky's expression warps into shock and concern when he observes Sam's face.
"What happened - are you okay?" Bucky frets before he notices the target on the floor, "Holy shit, what's going on?"
Bucky nervously steps back from Sam and the hostage.
"I'm undercover," Sam reveals.
Bucky erratically shakes his head trying to process this.
"What?"
"Everything is fine. It's handled. Backup is on their way to get this guy out of here."
Bucky's eyes dart from Sam to the unconscious individual.
"Are you gonna kill him?"
"No, I just knocked him out. He'll be brought in for questioning. He's a criminal," Sam explains calmly.
"You're a cop?" Bucky presumes.
"Something like that," Sam smiles.
Before Bucky can respond to that, SHEILD shows up and barges through the front doors. Even with their loud and dramatic entrance, no other patrons in the bar take notice of these events. Sam's kinda amazed as everyone continues dancing and drinking while SHEILD agents handcuff and escort the criminal out.
When Sam turns back around, he finds Bucky gone. He sighs, a little disappointed when he notices that the man has reclaimed his seat at the end of the bar.
Sam walks over and sits next to him. Bucky doesn't seem too bothered by Sam joining him and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans for something.
"Um, here," Bucky comments as he retrieves his wallet.
He shoves a few bills down the bar toward Sam.
"What's this for?" Sam questions, not picking the cash up.
"The beer."
"What, no. I bought that for you," Sam rejects and pushes the money back in front of Bucky.
"It's okay, you didn't have to. You were on the job," Bucky counters.
"Yeah and I still bought you a drink anyway," Sam grins and waits for Bucky to look up and see it.
He looks up but doesn't smile back. Instead, he contemplates what to do about the money in front of him before finally fumbling to put it away. Then he sits, eyes forward.
He's uneasy, Sam can tell.
"Look, I'm gonna go. I don't wanna scare you anymore," Sam determines and stands.
"I'm not scared," Bucky insists making Sam stop.
He tilts his head with a disbelieving smile, silently testing the man's claim. Bucky slumps forward and sighs.
"Fine, you kinda freaked me out," Bucky admits, "I just thought I had you figured out."
"Yeah - me too, actually," Sam concurs.
Sam leans over the bar and stretches a little closer to Bucky's ear. He's relieved when Bucky doesn't flinch from their new proximity.
"You know, I was pretty bummed I never got to give you a tour of the bathroom," Sam sneers.
Bucky slowly picks up his gaze to meet Sam's.
"But honestly, bathrooms aren't really my style. If you're not too freaked out by me, I'd like to get to know you better - sometime when I'm not arresting bad guys," Sam continues.
A slow but sure smile begins to bloom across Bucky's face. It gives Sam the confidence he needs to pick up a paid-for receipt and pen from the bar and write his number down. He slides it over to Bucky.
Bucky picks up the piece of paper and studies it. Maybe he's checking all the numbers are there, they are. Even so, his smile fades when he looks back up.
"You know, my life is a lot more boring than yours. I spend most of my time here," Bucky confesses.
Sam merely shrugs.
"Maybe I could change that," Sam replies.
Bucky's eyebrows raise like he wasn't expecting Sam's answer.
"How about drinks Thursday night?" Sam suggests.
Bucky's face adorably lights up and he nods.
"Yeah. I mean, as long as you don't knock me out, I'd like to be conscious for it," Bucky jests falling into a sly grin that makes Sam's heart flutter in his chest.
Sam even laughs because it was so unexpected.
"I'd definitely want you conscious," Sam declares and playfully pushes Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky smiles wider.
"Okay, Thursday then," Bucky notes happily.
"I'll text you a place. See you Thursday, handsome," Sam relays with a wink.
A new coat of blush covers Bucky's face.
"See ya," Bucky murmurs under a soft smile.
It's quiet enough that Sam almost misses it under the music. It makes him want to lean in close and ask Bucky to repeat himself but he'll have enough chances to linger near the man on Thursday.
He walks away after one last wave.
Sam has to admit, he's excited about this date. In the past, he never would've risked wasting his time on such a reserved guy like Bucky. Maybe Sam's been doing this all wrong, overlooking all the shy guys he's assumed would never be interested. Perhaps some of them just needed a drink, a flirty wink and to witness an undercover mission go a bit awry.
Whatever the case, one thing is for sure, Sam's still got it.