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She actually met Steve first, of the two of them. He was an illustrator for a comics company, she herself an editor for the title he headed. He wasn’t the biggest guy but his arms were covered with tattoos, even including his knuckles--they spelled out BROOKLYN, one letter for each finger. Sinthia wouldn’t have thought that she’d find the look appealing at all, with a slim hearing aid stuck in the blonde’s ear over the arm pieces of his glasses. (Which, upon discovering he actually needed, she found she liked more on him than off, the way he squinted at fine detailing in his drawings with them pushed up to his forehead.)
Sinthia met Bucky only later, when Steve wasn’t the one who showed up to her desk to collect the bunch of approved drawings and stories at the end of the week. He was far more of an outright flirt with the sort of crooked, triangular grin (pierced, like his ears, with snakebites) that made something flutter in her stomach. It was impossible not to flirt back--and Sinthia wouldn’t have been particularly interested in trying even if she thought it was feasible, and it wasn’t long before there was mention of coffee after work sometime, which left her smiling even as she enquired after Steve.
“Where’s Rogers?” she asked.
“Hospital,” he replied lightly, though there was something to the look on his face that told her in no uncertain terms he’d rather be there than here. She frowned, but left it at that; the date--though Bucky was primarily the one who called it that--went well for what it was, both of them discussing work and Steve, though from different angles. It was date two that really got interesting, because Bucky brought Steve along in half-laced work boots and a hospital bracelet still on his skinny wrist.
She blinked at them both when they appeared at her table, Bucky grinning and pushing a lock of hair behind his head to show his piercings, and Steve halfway blushing and leaving Sinthia a little confused with her hands still wrapped around her ceramic cup.
“See,” the charming brunet said, “We have this...arrangement, Stevie and me.”
Sinthia met Bucky only later, when Steve wasn’t the one who showed up to her desk to collect the bunch of approved drawings and stories at the end of the week. He was far more of an outright flirt with the sort of crooked, triangular grin (pierced, like his ears, with snakebites) that made something flutter in her stomach. It was impossible not to flirt back--and Sinthia wouldn’t have been particularly interested in trying even if she thought it was feasible, and it wasn’t long before there was mention of coffee after work sometime, which left her smiling even as she enquired after Steve.
“Where’s Rogers?” she asked.
“Hospital,” he replied lightly, though there was something to the look on his face that told her in no uncertain terms he’d rather be there than here. She frowned, but left it at that; the date--though Bucky was primarily the one who called it that--went well for what it was, both of them discussing work and Steve, though from different angles. It was date two that really got interesting, because Bucky brought Steve along in half-laced work boots and a hospital bracelet still on his skinny wrist.
She blinked at them both when they appeared at her table, Bucky grinning and pushing a lock of hair behind his head to show his piercings, and Steve halfway blushing and leaving Sinthia a little confused with her hands still wrapped around her ceramic cup.
“See,” the charming brunet said, “We have this...arrangement, Stevie and me.”
