Undercover [Stucky]

Spark

(The photo's a bit too nice for what I wanted but it has a similar layout to what I've tried to describe so just take it has an example)

Steve hates undercover missions - he never quite fits in no matter how hard he tries. And so there he sits, standing out like a sore thumb, on the small lonely bar stool at a grimy bar in the dingy flickering lights of one of Brooklyn's gay bars. For someone like Steve Rogers; the American symbol of justice, honored superhero, World War Two legend, virgin and closeted bisexual Steve couldn't possible be more out of his depth.

The bar has a grungy mismatched concoction of vibes with an almost vintage feel to it and an exterior design theme of some sort of mystical secret garden - it was pretty, fresh and delicate while simultaneously dirty, moody and suspicious. Vines creep up the lattice along the walls connecting the to floors which opens up into a void above a dance floor on the lower level, it was packed with a crowd almost as mixed and strange and the wacky bar itself. There's huge vintage leather booth seats, swinging circular cocoons of seats hanging from the ceiling, a trickling fountain of sparkling water and a large spiral staircase of twisted metal and distressed wood winding its way up to the second floor. All of this was crowded with people, laughter, loud beating music and violent lights. It was safe to say that this was most definitely not Steve Roger's preferred environment.

He's perched at one of the glowing bars in the far corner of the second floor, his back to the wall and head lowered so that he remains hidden from the vision of most yet positioned in a way in which he has a direct view of the majority of the room including the entrance and dance floor on the ground floor via the glass balcony which wrapped around the empty space connecting the two levels. Steve is fidgeting and shuffling restlessly and awkwardly, downing beer after beer, even though he knows he wouldn't be able to get drunk it was an alright way to pass the time while he waits and helps him to appear less out of place with his neat respectable appearance and faded brown leather jacket. He's waiting for Natasha to arrive so that they could bust some dealers selling black market alien tech and possible inside information regarding SHIELD but Steve swears that she was taking her time to make him suffer in such an uncomfortable situation. Just another questionable action which could be taken as a possible indication that Natasha at least suspected that Steve was something other than straight. Knowing her she was probably hoping to set him up with someone too. Thoughts like that. Thoughts of others discovering what Steve identified as his most shameful secret made him feel sick with anxiety.

Steve pushes the stomach twisting thoughts from his mind and refocuses himself of discretely yet vigilantly scanning the club for any sign of Natasha, the dealers or just trouble in general. Another ten minutes passes and still there was no sign of anything - Steve begins to fret that maybe something's gone wrong or that Natasha's run into trouble. He sinks deep into his thoughts of all the possibilities as to what might of happened and was running though how he would solve them all in his head. If something had gone wrong that would explain why Natasha hasn't contacted him to say she was late then again she was one of the most capable people Steve had ever met and could probably make it out of almost anything. The more scenarios he ran through his head the more he worries and began to debate whether or not he should attempt to make contact with SHIELD or Natasha. He was so deeply engrossed in his worrisome thoughts that he neglected to take notice of the figure approaching him with a slow purposeful swagger. Steve remains completely oblivious, staring harshly into his once again empty drink, eyebrows creased in concern and mind whirling away lost so far into his own mind that he doesn't so much as notice the man who was now leaning on his elbows with his back against the counter of the bar next to where Steve sat and was studying the pretty blond stranger curiously. The man has had his eye on this purely out of place twinkling blue eyed beauty ever since he had stepped into the bar like a lost puppy and, after almost half and hour of watching him sit and drink by himself, had decided to go over and check him out.