let's take it back to the start

Bucky likes this bar. It's a bit dingey but somehow charming, the music soothing and low, the warm chatter of other patrons surrounding him. It's comforting and everything that would come to mind if Nat were to suggest a bar, which she had with an easy, "I know one of the bartenders, c'mon." Bucky is about to give Nat shit for the way the bartender's eyes lit up when he saw her, for the way he said her name and the way she replied in kind, when Bucky sees him.

Holy shit.

Bucky has to pull his eyes away almost as soon as they land on the man at the bar. His chest grows warm and it isn't because of this bitter beer.

"Holy shit," he repeats out loud, dropping what's left of his handful of fries into the basket of friend pickles. He wipes his hand on his jeans, adjusts in his seat, chances a glance back up to the man at the bar.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──
Bucky doesn't hesitate to take up Nat's offer to spend their evening together in a bar after the shitty week they've both had. What he doesn't expect is to find a man plucked directly from his dreams sitting over at the bar, looking right at him...