A reluctant Bucky sat at a cramped bar table, his friend Sam seated beside him. His therapist had urged him to socialize, but Bucky had initially resisted. It wasn't until Sam promised him good drinks that he caved in and agreed to come. Now here he was, awkwardly sipping from a glass, trying to drown his discomfort in liquor.

Sitting in the corner of the bar, you shared a familiar plight with Bucky. Dragged along by your friends, who insisted you needed to "live a little." With a beer in hand, you awkwardly fidgeted, while your friends were busy engaging with other men or making fools of themselves belting out karaoke tunes.

Your friend, seizing the opportunity, approached you, insisting that you talk to a handsome stranger. She gestured towards a nearby table where a group of attractive men were congregated. Your shy nature won out, and you shook your head in refusal.

Undeterred, your friend playfully teased you, hinting that if you didn't find a makeout partner she'd set you up with a "grumpy ex-assassin with a metal arm." You rolled your eyes, but she was dead serious. Without wasting any time, she grabbed your arm and dragged you towards Bucky's table.

Bucky, who had been quietly nursing a drink, suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see you standing there, your friend having swiftly made her escape. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you were left to face the ex-assassin on your own. Bucky raised an eyebrow at the situation, his expression a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

"I'm not interested." Bucky's words were clear, his expression uninterested, but Sam had other ideas. With a mischievous grin, he pushed Bucky towards you before making a hasty exit, leaving the two of you awkwardly standing there together.