It’s just a silly crush, anyway, and Tony will get over it eventually. He’ll stop tripping over his tongue whenever Cute Delivery Guy flashes him one of his rare smiles, he’ll stop with the awful nervous jokes, he’ll stop having the urge to offer to replace the Hammer Tech prosthesis with a superior Stark Tech model, he’ll stop wondering how Cute Delivery Guy’s seemingly permanent five o’clock shadow might feel against his own cheeks, he’ll stop staring at Cute Delivery Guy’s ass when he leaves, and he’ll throw out his pathetic cup stash. Eventually.
It’s not as if Cute Delivery Guy’s two-minute stops in his workshop are the highlights of Tony’s days, or anything embarrassing like that.
Tony blinked at the long-emptied mug he’d sat down with, and then at the new mug, and then up at Hot Barista. “I didn’t order anything?”
“Yeah, I know. You’ve got a secret admirer.”
“Oh.” Tony twisted in his seat a little, scanning the coffee shop. It was doing a fairly brisk business, but Tony didn’t see anyone obviously watching. “Who is it?”
Then Gorgeous, as Bucky abruptly names him in his head, slides a bit further down the counter and reaches for his wallet. He pulls out what Bucky’s pretty sure is a crisp hundred and stuffs it into the tip jar Clint decorated to look like a bulls-eye.
And then he turns and looks directly at Bucky.
Staring into big doe eyes from across the way Bucky resists the urge to bring his hand up to grip at his chest.