Trying Your Luck - Bucky BarnesxOC

Part 2: Shannon

Bucky stares at his phone — well, the phone Sam left for him on his doorstep. There was a note attached.

Tinder works better on a phone that wasn't made 20 years ago. I know you won't be able to work this thing, so all of the notifications are turned on. The app is already set up for you. I hid all of the other applications so it's the only one on the screen.

I know you get overwhelmed with stuff... because you're old.

Have fun!

Sam

Bucky turns the card over. On the back it reads: Go get 'em, Barnes.

He smiles.

It takes him a while to figure out how to turn the damn thing on, but Sam was right. The app works much better on this little computer instead of his giant laptop. Bucky only uses the phone for this app. Otherwise, he prefers his flip phone. It's sturdy and it's got a good weight to it. Once, he dropped it off of his balcony while trying to get a signal. There wasn't even a dent in it. But this thing? Made of glass? No buttons? He doesn't trust it. Besides, it goes off all the time and he can't stop it or mute it or whatever the hell he has to do. He could crush it, though. In half a second, it could just be a crumpled wad of broken glass and warped metal. He's considered the thought briefly. Mostly at night when he hears a little ding! sound that comes along with a message that disappears once he unlocks it.

Tonight, his thumb hovers over the screen - over Shannon. She looks nice. Pretty. Nice smile. She likes hiking, Thai food, and her dog Ace.

As he struggles to remember which way to swipe, he leans over and grabs his glass of whiskey and opens his laptop, typing slowly with one finger.

"T I N D E R... how to use."

He presses the search button and waits, taking a sip of his whiskey. He can't even get drunk to deal with the shit he's going through or the anxiety he's feeling about this whole dating app thing - which is not proving to be the "babe magnet" that Sam initially promised. Something about his metabolism, the serum... he doesn't even have the chance to catch a buzz from alcohol anymore. He might as well be drinking water. This tastes better, though.

Along with everything else HYDRA took from him, they also took away his best coping strategy. Dr. Raynor says he needs to find a new outlet. Maybe walking in the park.

Maybe he could walk in the park with Shannon.

Google finally loads and Bucky grimaces at the search results. Why are none of these relevant? He squints out of habit and leans forward.

"Why hookup culture is destroying America... what's hookup culture? Cuffing season? Ghosting? What — there are ghosts in this app? That can't be right. You can make up anything you want and put it on here." He sighs, scrolling through the rest of the results. A verified Tinder account? What the hell is that?

Bucky growls and shakes the laptop.

"Just tell me if it's left or right! That's all I wanna know!"

A knock at the door startles him and he sets the whiskey glass down on the floor before closing his laptop. Bucky creeps down the hall slowly.

"Who is it?"

"Pizza!"

He sighs and his body relaxes. He got so caught up in this swiping situation that he forgot he ordered pizza.

"Shit," he whispers. "Just hang on a second!"

He grabs his wallet from the kitchen counter and opens the door. In front of him stands a young man, maybe in his early twenties. He's wearing a black baseball cap and a navy blue bomber jacket with the pizza shop logo embroidered on the shoulder.