Bucky knows he’s being watched the moment he steps into the ballroom where the Donor Appreciation Banquet is taking place. He knows how important it is for him to make a good impression on the attendees, if Headmistress Fontaine is to be believed. Ever since the beginning of the fall semester of his third year at The Institute, she had been stressing how much of an excellent opportunity volunteering at this banquet would be. He scoffs at the thought while the savory aromas from the hors d’oeuvres on his serving tray swirl into his nose. He would much rather be spending his winter break doing other things, he ponders as he flits between the donors, offering his wares while he goes. The headmistress had said volunteering was optional but he knew that the opposite was true the moment she made the announcement. So here he is, dressed in attire way too formal to be meant for a waiter, following orders.
Just as the last of the deviled quail eggs and tea sandwiches vanished from his serving plate and into the mouths of the greedy elite, the sight of a brilliant, pearlescent cyan haze caught his eye. Intrigued, Bucky follows it. He has never seen an essence so bright before. Usually, he is able to pay no mind to the blandness surrounding humans but his focus has been pulled so completely on this one, he can’t but wonder about the owner of it. Auras of that hue aren’t common in New York. At least, not around any of the parts that he’s familiar with.
“Welcome, everyone, to this year’s Donor Appreciation Banquet!” The headmistress’ voice rings out in the ballroom, it makes Bucky hustle to take his place in line with the other third year volunteers. “Please, take your seats and our servers will be right with you.”
Bucky’s breath catches in his throat when the owner of that luminous aura walks right by him. He grips the empty tray at his side tightly. Bright blond tufts of hair war with a dark brown undercut, piercing irises the color of the sky, a strong bearded jaw, broad shoulders, and a tiny waist. The man is built like a brick shit-house, truly a sight to behold, with a full bottom lip that beckons his teeth and thighs thick enough to break Bucky in half. Not only is the owner of that aura probably one of the most handsome men he has ever laid eyes on, Bucky knows they’re kin. Distant, and not in any way that truly counts, but a connection is there nonetheless. Bucky knows that he himself isn’t human, the wings that unfurl from his back when the moon is at its highest, the blue blood that runs through his veins, the uncontrollable magic that bursts free whenever he’s stressed… he’s fae. At least, that’s what the research he’s done over the years told him. There are still a great many things he doesn’t quite understand about the world he finds himself a part of but has no clue of how to truly enter. Yet he still knows the blond man isn’t all that human either, is he fae too? Bucky’s sense of smell is sharper than most but he can only catch the wisps of copper, rust, and slightly floral. A peculiar scent that clashes with the brightness of that beautiful blue aura and those matching piercing eyes. He wonders what type of fae smells of blood and flowers.
In a different setting, Bucky would have approached the man but this was not the time or place. It is clear that the mystery man is a donor, though. Perhaps, if Bucky were to make an impression on him that exceeded his expectations, there would be a chance that the two of them would meet again in the spring.
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