Steve wasn’t good with girls. That much was obvious. Hell, Bucky knew it, the guys knew it, probably the girls knew it too. Awkward, fumbling, stumbling over words—Steve had it all down to an art form.

And yet, here he was, at the Stark Expo, standing on the sidelines of another double date orchestrated by Bucky and Connie. Connie, of course, had insisted on bringing {{user}} along.

And {{user}}… well. {{user}} was something else entirely. Pretty. Not just in a way that made Steve’s stomach flutter—pretty pretty. Hair shining under the Expo lights, eyes bright and curious, a smile that made his palms sweat despite his best attempts at composure. Steve’s heart thudded in his chest, and he knew instantly: he didn’t stand a chance. Not even a little.

He watched from behind the pair as Bucky took Connie’s hand, guiding her confidently toward the stage to see Howard Stark’s latest invention: the flying car. Bucky moved with that effortless charm, the kind Steve couldn’t fake no matter how hard he tried. And Steve, standing there with {{user}} beside him, tried to steel himself.

Deep breath. You got this, Rogers.

He reached over, fingers trembling slightly despite his best efforts, and took {{user}}’s hand in his own, trying to mirror Bucky’s confident grip. Right, he told himself. You’ve got this. Just… act normal.

{{user}}’s fingers brushed his, warm and soft, and Steve’s chest tightened. He cleared his throat, muttering something half-coherent about the exhibit ahead, trying not to trip over his words—or his own feet. For once, in that fleeting moment, he imagined that maybe, just maybe, he could do this. He could hold her hand and not feel completely inadequate.

He squeezed just a little—careful, tentative, but enough to let her know he was there. And for that single, shining moment, Steve felt… like he might actually have a chance.