Chapter Text
2014
Bucky is laying on his stomach on the rooftop of an apartment building, looking through his scope at the hospital across the street, where Steven Grant Rogers, Captain America, is currently staying in, and holding a direction mike towards the window of his hospital room.
Bucky has been here for the past six hours since he left the Smithsonian, after seeing the video of Rogers, and Sergeant Barnes, laughing together. He had stood there long enough for a guard to come up to him and notify him that the museum was closing.
It has been almost three days since the incident on the helicarrier, since he left his Mission on that river bank, close to death.
He still can't wrap his head around it. He, the Fist of HYDRA, with over two dozen confirmed assassinations, left the man who he had been ordered to kill, twice, alive. With his limited memory that he has only had for three days now, he knows that he has never done anything like that before, ever. Never has he let a target go. The Soldier has always been labeled as unforgiving, brutal, relentless.
But, he has also never encountered his long, lost, old best friend from his life in the early 1900's. Yeah, he doesn't think that's happened to him before, probably.
It's been six hours since he's taken camp here, and in those six hours that he has been listening in on, he has learned more information about Steve Rogers, than the whole exhibit dedicated to him had supplied.
Things like: he has a blue backpack that contains only, a photograph that Bucky couldn't make out the contents of when he had seen it, a worn-down looking comb that rung tiny bells in his mind when he saw it—although lots of things have had that effect on him since he walked away from Rogers' beaten body—, a blue water bottle, and lastly, a small sketchbook.
He is also a very bad medical patient, telling the guy with the wings, and the Widow, that he was fine, he's already healed, he needs to leave, he needs 'to find Bucky, Sam. No Nat, it's not dumb, Buck's alive, he's alive, he would do the same for me. And what if HYDRA finds him? He saved my life. Yes, he tried to kill me twice before that, but—what? No, my head is fine'.
Another thing he has learned, but also already knew, probably for his entire life, based on what he had heard, is that Steven Grant Rogers, is a huge fuckin' stubborn idiot. As one can figure out from being around him for simply five minutes.
The man almost got killed for gods sake—twice!—; beaten by a metal arm, attached to the greatest assassin in the world, and yet, there he is, refusing care, refusing to be coddled, and insisting that he leave, to immediately go on a search for the same guy who tried to murder him and his friends, just on the off-chance that he might remember Steve. He obviously hasn't come up with another reason other than: he's my best friend, he's Bucky.
That stubbornness rung major bells in Bucky's head.
It also makes him want to risk being seen by Rogers' two friends, to sneak into his hospital room, just to smack him across the back of his head, and shake some self-preservation into that goddamn thick skull'a his.
Has he always been like this? Resisting care, wanting to go avenge someone, or seek justice, even though he got shot three times and almost died.
"Steve, ya can't go after them, it's way too dangerous, and it's stupid, even for you."
"Did ya not see the trail of bodies they left behind at the base? Half'a thum were children Buck! It's disgustin', and inan—"
"What do you think this whole war is?! Everything is disgusting, it's war! You chose to be here, you wanted to join. I warned you, and of course, ya didn't listen. You didn't care that you were gonna get hurt, you didn't care that you were gonna see death, all you thought about was saving people who can't be sav—"
"Of course I knew I was gonna get hurt, Bucky! I knew I was gonna see death, Oi knew all'a that! I came here to stop bullies, and that's what I'm doin', tha's wha' Oi'm gonna do by goin' after'em."
Bucky snaps back from the sudden flashback, his scope and mike on the ground on front of him, where his hands are on his head, which is now aching; from the flashback, or the memory of how stressed he felt in that moment, having to listen to Steve be insistent about risking his goddamn life, Bucky doesn't know.
He starts to pick his scope and mike back up, when he realizes something about the memory.
Did Steve have an Irish accent in that memory?
It confuses Bucky a bit, since the last time he heard Steve talk, he had what seemed like a Brooklyn accent. So why did his accent change in that memory?
Is his brain making stuff up? Or did—
You fuckin' idiot, a voice similar to his own, but just a lot squeakier, says in his mind, He's from Ireland, and his accent comes back to him when he's angry or stressed. Duh.
Okay, tiny Bucky, no need to be so cheeky.
So, his memory is right then? Well, if someone were to be watching him right now, they would not see a tiny, victorious grin on his face. At all.
Suck it HYDRA. 70 years for nothin'.
Okay, he grins a little more at that thought, he can admit.
He snaps his head back towards Steve's window, when he hears the idiot himself trying to negotiate with his nurse about letting him out. And when that works, he grins at the poor nurse, and fucking winks. What a dork.
The tinier version of Bucky in him, lets out a long-suffering groan when he sees that Steve has succeeded in flirting his way out of hospital, using the exact moves he used to use on Bucky whenever he was bed-bound, on Sarah's, or Bucky's own, orders, but wanted to go out.
"At least let me go out on the rooftop, Buck. You know how much I love being out there with you."
Even with his limited memory, Bucky knows that those moves almost always worked. Damn his mesmerizing, blue eyes, and long, lovely eyelashes.
Bucky shakes his head, and then curses out loud when he looks through his scope again, and sees that Steve is already half-dressed, looking at, that Bucky can see more clearly now, a photo of Bucky's face, but just younger, and happier. Steve has that stubborn, determined look on his face, that means he's about to fuck shit the fuck up, and he won't feel sorry for it.
The current-Bucky groans as he scrambles to leave, gathering up his scope, mike, and the backpack beside him. He lets out another long-suffering groan when Steve starts to stalk out of the room, a few guards trailing behind him, almost running to keep up with Steve.
This goddamn stubborn idiot.
Bucky gets to the ground floor of the building he was laying atop of, and out the door, in two minutes, without anyone looking at him twice. He bets that Steve's big, mammoth, wall of muscle self isn't able to do that.
A few minutes later, Bucky is at the side of the hospital, looking at Steve—and yep, he was definitely spotted. Steve is trying to ram his way through many flocks of paparazzi, and bystanders, while talking to someone on the phone. Bucky brings his directional mike out of his pocket, and points it towards Steve. From what Bucky hears, Steve is on the phone with the Widow, and she is definitely scolding him. Thank God, he thought he was gonna have to do that himself.
"Nat, just please come pick me up, and we can get starte—oi, sir! Step on that woman's feet again, I dare ya!" Steve shouts at a paparazzi in front of him, and he grabs the camera scope, looks the guy in the eyes, and crushes it, his muscles not even flexing from it. Bucky feels something happen in his stomach at that, and feels a heat spread on his cheeks.
Steve continues pushing his way through the crowd, as he protests to the Widow, "What? Yes, of course I'm gonna start looking for him once I get back ta New York, di'j'ya really think I wasn'?" Steve whispers harshly. He sounds and looks like a man on a mission.
Jesus Christ, Bucky groans internally when he hears Steve say that. What's he gonna do, call me on my non-existent phone? Is he gonna just walk up to me and ask to come home with him, sleep in the same bed again? Pfft , not if he wants to wake up being strangled by a metal arm, he thinks, very annoyed.
Bucky puts his equipment back in his pockets, and starts discreetly following Rogers, but he loses him after a minute, after seeing him sneak into an alleyway once the crowd was held back by more guards, probably ones that the Widow sent.
Bucky drives through each alleyway Rogers goes through. He's two alleyways behind him when Steve turns a corner, and Bucky speeds up, fast-walks to the opposite side of the street where Steve now is. Bucky slows down once he's fifteen feet away from him, and just enough behind him that if Steve were to turn his head, he'd miss Bucky.
He's still on the phone with the Widow, and he has his free hand in his jacket pocket, his head hanging down, looking like a scolded puppy, "Okay fine Nat, I'll wait a while." Steve sulkily says, quite literally pouting as he says it.
The Widow must be scolding him some more, because Steve's metaphorical tail wilts a bit more, and he sulks again, groaning lightly, hanging his head back, "But, what if he"s in danger? He saved me, I should save him. Yeah alright…fine," Steve sighs heavily, "Okay…which street? Okay, I'll be there in a second."
Steve is now walking to the Widow's car, which is just a little bit up the road, both hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his head down, looking guilty. He looks like he just got a tongue lashing, like he used to look like when he'd walk out the door the day after coming home to Sarah with two black eyes
Good, he should feel like that. What is he thinking, planning to just go after the greatest assassin in the world, the Deadly Winter Sold—
His thoughts get interrupted by a gasp from across the street where Steve is. Bucky jerks his head up from where he'd been glaring at the ground, and before he can finish the familiar, urgent thought of 'Is Steve in danger?', the idiot himself makes it known that he in fact, is not in danger. This time.
"Bucky! Buck! Oh god, you're okay!"
Jesus Christ Rogers, what are'ya tryin'ta do? Alert the papers? Waving your hands around like that. Goddamn idiot, he wants to scold, but he's frozen in his spot, his eyes darting from Steve beside him, to the open alleyway on the other side of him, leading to where he knows is a road where he can safely get away.
He needs to run away as fast as he can—he knows all the safe-houses and hiding spots in this country, he could easily disappear, make Steve think he's just hallucinating. He's dangerous, and even if he doesn't cause harm to Steve, someone else will if Bucky stays near him, eventually.
But then he sees Steve's hopeful, and overjoyed eyes, his big, blinding smile that radiates sunshine across the dimly-lit street, and something happens in his brain, an echo, that stops him.
You need to protect him. If you leave he'll try look for you, and he'll end up getting hurt anyway.
It's another one of those thoughts that ring major bells.
So, he doesn't run away. He meets Steve's eyes, properly, and feels his eyes do something completely different than glaring when he sees those familiar, beautiful blue eyes that have been imprinted in his mind for the past century, filled with relief, and joy. A warm feeling grows in his stomach when he sees that he looks as happy as he was in that video in the Smithsonian, just from seeing Bucky alive.
Systems compromised!, The Asset's voice blares in his mind.
…Aw, crap.
It's been almost three months since Steve brought Bucky back home to his apartment in Brooklyn, and things are good.
Well, obviously, there's been a lot of bad days, and bad afternoons, bad evenings, bad nights, bad mornings, bad dusks… bad sunrises… bad sunsets… but Steve chooses to not think about those times right now.
The thing he does choose to think about, something he thinks about every second of every day, is the fact that Bucky is alive, and living with Steve.
And doing stuff like: complaining about prices at grocery shops ('we coulda paid our rent for three months with that much money!'); watching all the Disney movies that they missed (although, Steve had already watched them with the Avengers when he moved in with them, but he doesn't want Bucky to do anything alone, ever again); eating multiple boxes of pizza while watching said movies ("I can't believe the Italians were hiding this from us Steve, this stuff is fucking delicious"); and,
Recently, Bucky's been doing something that they never could've imagined doing before the War, especially during it: cooking themselves an actual meal; with spices, and herbs, and sauces. Something other than some soup, or boiled potatoes, like they were forced to continuously consume due to just barely having enough to pay rent each month.
Well, now they have enough money to buy anything they want, from their seventy years of combined back pay, and the money that Bucky had stolen after taking down a HYDRA base one day.
(In the first week he was living with Steve, Bucky had left silently during the night, and came back at eight in the morning, with a duffel bag full of cash. Steve had then freaked out, many things going through his mind about where Bucky had gotten it. But when Bucky had only said, 'Hydra', after Steve inquired him about where in the hell he got the money, Steve had relaxed, and immediately grinned proudly, lightly patted Bucky's bicep, and told him well done)
With that money, Bucky has bought many, many things from online shopping, which Steve had introduced him to when Bucky asked where he could get a handkerchief.
And Steve means many, many things. Bucky disappears every once in a while with the laptop, and comes back out, looking lighter on the shoulders, and makes sure to tell Steve about all the new things he'd discovered. And then, a few days after that, Steve will find those same things on his doorstep, or in the sitting room, where Bucky will be, with a small smile on his face, unboxing everything. Which is why they now have the best microwave to ever exist (according to Bucky), a replacement for the 'shitty' oven and stove that Steve had, the best coffee machine one could buy, with multiple options so they could both explore outside of the usual plain black they used to have, and a built-in bookshelf above their TV, that Bucky built himself while Steve went to the shop for half an hour.
Last week, Bucky ordered a huge cookbook from some blogger online, after spending hours upon hours researching the best recipes for meals. For the past week since he's got it, he's cooked twenty-six out of two thousand meals; only two of said meals, were either burnt to hell, or, completely inedible, mainly because—in Bucky's words—Steve had distracted him with his big, mouthy trap, and ugly, smiley mug. Steve was glad Bucky remembered enough about their past to feel comfortable to call him that, so he hadn't said anything back, just smiled bigger, and left the kitchen.
(He definitely hadn't kept gazing at Bucky once he got to the dining table, where the kitchen is visible, and he could see Bucky cooking the meals again. Nope)
(He's banned from that spot at the table now)
He is disappointed that he can't even be near Bucky while he's cooking, because Bucky, again, considers him a curse. He wants to watch Bucky finally do something he enjoys, which Steve can tell he does, because Bucky is always smiling more than usual every time he comes out to the dining room, with their meals in tow, and his eyes light up when Steve declares that his food is amazing.
(He's also not allowed to say that he can taste the love and care that Bucky put in the meal anymore. The fork Bucky threw at him is still embedded into the wall behind his chair)
But, Steve can make do with seeing him enjoy himself after cooking.
Which is what's happening right now. Steve is sitting at their (their!!) dining table, his chin propped on his fist, and smiling widely at Bucky, who is across the table from him, putting their food down, with a small proud smile on his gorgeous—uh…normal…face.
God, if you had told thirteen year old Steve Rogers, that he'd be living with Bucky Barnes; eating with him, watching TV with him, sleeping in the same bed as him (yes, they sleep together, it helps with his, and Bucky's, nightmares, that's all) (Steve definitely did not almost scream, 'Yes!' when Bucky asked to sleep in his bed): he would probably pass out.
Bucky looks so good today—even though Steve thinks he's good-looking all the time, even when he has dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is all sweaty and knotted after a nightmare, but whatever—he's wearing just a plain white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, but he looks dashing, as he always does.
Steve snaps out of his reverie, when Bucky clears his throat loudly.
He refocuses his eyes, looking straight at Bucky with wide eyes, but he lowers them bashfully when Bucky looks very amused, with a small smirk directed at him, "Ya checking me out, Rogers?"
…This fucker. Three months living semi-normally with Steve, and he's already teasing him like he did twenty-four-seven, before they both "died".
Steve scoffs, then ducks his head down, trying to look anywhere besides the smiling beauty in front of him, but he looks up after a few seconds, realizing he's blushing like he used to whenever Bucky would mess with him with lines he used on girls back in the day.
"Uh, of course not, Buck, why would—" Steve clears his throat, trying to not sound like he's lying, "Uh, I was just thinking about how good that—food looks, you know? 'Cuz it looks very, uh… good, ya'know? Can't wait to get in there and… eat." Jeez, he should've taken Nat up on those spy lessons.
Bucky looks even more amused, looking a Steve with a funny look in his eyes, as he sits down at his spot across from him, and leans back in his chair.
"Mmmhmmm." Bucky hums, his lips twitching, as he picks up his fork and knife, and gets to eating, still looking at Steve amusedly, obviously stifling a grin.
Steve clears his throat again, and to avoid even more embarrassment, he starts digging into the food, shutting himself up.
They both finish their meal after two minutes. For a normal, non-super metabolism person, it would've taken at least ten minutes just to eat most of it.
Steve praises Bucky for how good the food was, and he isn't saying that just to clear the air from his awkwardness, he really means it. He picks up their plates and cups, and brings them to the sink to wash them.
After a minute of washing them, Bucky comes up beside him—not surprising Steve at all, nuh uh—and starts drying the dishes. Even though Steve always insists that Bucky should go relax and start up a movie for them, since he was the one to cook, but Bucky always just stares at him for a couple beats, then keeps drying.
Steve turns his head to look at him, and feels a fond smile come onto his face. Because all of this, is very familiar. Steve washing the dishes, Bucky coming up behind him, Steve immediately protesting against Bucky helping—
"No, Buck, you were the one to cook, so I wash them."
"Nope, I wanna help."
"Ah, come on, you did all the work, so you go relax—"
"Nuh uh."
"Buck."
"Those eyes don't work on me anymore sweetheart. You knew what I was like when you jumped my bones on that rooftop four years ago, yet, you still chose to keep me."
"…Goddamni'—fine. And get those pesky hands'a yers off'a me before I stuff'em down the drain."
"God, I love it when you talk dirty."
Well, most of it is still the same. The part where Bucky teases him, and calls him sweetheart, and hugs him from behind, letting his hands wander around Steve's small frame—that's not the same. Unfortunately.
But, Steve will take anything, if it means that Bucky is alive, and kind-of well. As long as Bucky is near, Steve'll feel fine.
Sure, he misses Bucky's hands on him, Bucky's cuddles, Bucky's tongue on him, and in him. Bucky's sweet words…
…Bucky's coc—
"Steve."
Steve swivels his head to his right, where Bucky is leaning against the counter, having dried all the dishes Steve had washed, and looking at Steve, where his hands are holding a plate over the sink, amusedly, and expectantly.
"You gonna wash that?" Bucky asks, smiling that small, quiet smile he's been wearing a lot around Steve recently.
Steve fully snaps out of his reverie. Second time today; Bucky catching him daydreaming. Three more times and their record will be beaten.
Steve puts the plate down in the sink carefully, willing his massive blush to go away, and clears his throat, "Uh yeah, I was just, ehh, ya know, thinkin'."
"Oh, well, don't wear your big brain out too much."
Steve is about to give a retort back, maybe tell him to fuck off, and then revel in the familiarity of it, when his thoughts are cut off by the loud bang of the front door of their (their!) apartment.
Both Steve and Bucky startle into a defensive position, Bucky stepping in front of Steve, and Steve holding his left arm out to Bucky's left side, intending to step in front of Bucky instead, and if need be, maybe hold Bucky back.
"Steven Goddamn Rogers!"
Steve finds out that he might not need to defend Bucky this time though, when he sees Natasha standing there in the kitchen doorframe, her arms at her sides, hands fisted, and a very cross look on her face.
Oh. Oh fuck. Maybe there was one thing he forgot to think about in these few months…
He clears his throat, and blinks eyes, trying to unwiden them, before stepping in front of Bucky, having to practically push Bucky behind him with how guarded he is.
"Hey, Nat! Love the new hai—"
"—Do not 'hey Nat' me, Rogers, you goddamn sonuvabitch."
Steve chuckles a bit, trying very hard to hide the nervousness he's feeling everywhere. He really wants to keep his limbs; he needs them to hug Bucky, and be with Bucky.
Steve is about to say something, make an excuse (or make a fool of himself, which is a better wording; Steve is horrible at lying to people he likes), when Nat gets there first.
"So, did you think that you were just gonna hide Barnes from us for the rest of your life? That your best friends were just gonna ignore the fact that you haven't sulked about Barnes, or begged me to help find him, in three months? Did you really think two of the best spies weren't gonna find out?"
"Well, it did take you three months to figure it out so…"
Steve hears a surprised chuckle come out of Bucky from behind him. Steve might have his arms ripped from their sockets and shoved down a garbage disposal by Nat in about three seconds because of that comment, but at least he'd made Bucky laugh.
That's basically been his logic for everything since he met him; as long as it makes Bucky smile and/or laugh, then it's all fine.
"Steve, I'm gonna pretend that you didn't say that, for your sake. " Nat declares darkly, taking a deep breath, glancing at Bucky before looking at Steve again, "Okay, let's go, I told Clint that I'd be the one to find you first and I can hear him climbing up the building right now, and I really want Clint's collection of t-shirts with those stupid sayings on them."
Natasha walks over to them, grabs one of Steve's hands, and one of Bucky's, then walks quickly out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind them.
Just as she starts running down the stairs, dragging Steve and Bucky with her, Steve hears glass shattering from his apartment, a body falling to the floor, and—presumably Clint—shouting, "My dear Steve, did you really think that the best spy in the world wouldn't find ou—Oh, fuck off!"
2015
It's been a year since everyone found out about Bucky living with Steve, when Natasha had dragged them into the common room where the Avengers were all eating lunch and arguing about something, and Natasha had declared herself the best Avenger, and called them all idiots for not finding out, while stepping hard on Steve's foot to warn him not to remind everyone that it took her three months.
Things have been good. Genuinely good, this time.
It took a while for Bucky to start getting comfortable with anyone who wasn't Steve, but after a few months, he was able to sit with them at breakfast, lunch, dinner, movie nights and more, without being silent and sticking to Steve the whole time.
Well, Bucky still stays at least fifteen feet within Steve, but come on, that's how they've always been, and especially after what they went through, it's probably never gonna change.
Steve has also gotten closer with the Avengers, considering that before Bucky came back, Steve was drowning in grief everyday, even on good days—which were rare for him back then—so, because of that, he'd avoided getting close with the others for a long time, and would only really hang around them if he really had to, or if Nat dragged him to the Tower for a movie night once a week.
He was just scared to make connections with other people that weren't Bucky, but now, after living with them for the past almost eight months, he's realizing how much he'd missed because of it.
But, since Bucky came back, Steve doesn't like dwelling on the past anymore, instead, he likes appreciating the current moment.
Which is what he's doing now.
It was Steve's birthday four days ago, and he and Bucky just came back last night from the surprise trip to Ireland, that Bucky had surprised him with the day before his birthday. They'd gone to five counties in four days, and it'd been much more fun, and emotional, than they'd thought it would be.
Clare, Waterford, Donegal, Galway, and most importantly: Dublin, where his Ma had come from, and lived for the first twenty years of her life. Every other county they visited was included in the stories she used to tell Steve and Bucky any chance she could; Clare, she lived in for a while; Waterford, she stayed in for a week to visit her grandparents and cousins with her mother when she was eighteen; Donegal, she lived in for work, where she also met Joseph,they'd lived there until 1916, when the IRA started up, and things got dangerous; Galway, her and Joseph had lived there until Sarah got a job as a WWI nurse, and she and Joseph made their way on a boat packed full of people escaping the chaos, trying to find a better life for themselves in New York, until Sarah gave birth to Steve a month early, on a warm evening on the Fourth of July 1918.
He and Bucky had a lot of fun visiting the exact places she mentioned having dinner at, living at, working at, going to college at. Steve had never felt closer to his Ma.
They stayed in Dublin longer than the other places, staying in a nice little cottage a few minutes down the road from where his Ma grew up. They'd talked to the locals (well, mostly Steve, Bucky still isn't that comfortable talking to strangers, no matter how nice they are); they visited Dublin City University, where his Ma had studied her nursing, with the money that her own mother had saved up for her since she was born.
They were also able to scrounge up some old photos of Sarah, and even some of her own family, from her old schools. Although, they couldn't find any of her during primary school age (5-12), because the school she went to at the time, got demolished. Mainly because it was owned by British soldiers who only made the school so they could punish kids for speaking Irish…so, that was quite a damper on their trip for a few hours.
Anyway!
Bucky had explained that one of the first full memories he got of Steve after the Triskellion was of Sarah teaching them how to cook, when they were thirteen and fourteen. He also said he remembered that he used to think of Sarah as his second mother, so it was a special trip for him too.
God, Bucky is just so kind, and he deserves the whole world. That's something that Steve has always believed since he first met him.
"—Uh, Steve…y'alright?" Bucky's beautiful voice from beside him comes trickling into his zoned out mind.
Ah shit, is he gazing again?
He shakes his head, his eyes coming back into focus from where he's been gazing at Bucky for the past few minutes since Bucky started arguing with Clint about whether or not Steve actually broke the rules of Monopoly, or if Clint is just making up rules (In Steve's experience with Clint, he definitely is), and telling Clint that if he doesn't shut up and play fair, he'll be playing with his feet instead of his hands in the next ten minutes.
That led Clint to prop his feet on the coffee table they're playing on, which then led to everyone besides Steve (Natasha, Sam, Tony, Pepper, and Bucky) to throw the nearest objects to them at Clint.
It seems like they've patched things up now, because Clint has both his feet tucked under his thighs, and Natasha is sitting half on top of him to keep him pinned, and Bucky seems relatively calm beside him.
"Uh, no—I mean, yeah, I'm good Buck." Steve replies, smiling sweetly at Bucky.
Bucky rolls his eyes at that, so does everyone else, but Bucky's is definitely more fond than exasperation like everyone else (Maybe it's because he's always making that face at Bucky, but who knows?).
"Okay, let's stop the gazing, and get on with the game please, I can't take the sweetness between you two." Tony says to Steve and Bucky, an exaggerated disgusted look on his face.
They all get back into the game. And it takes five minutes for another fight to break out over Clint cheating.
But, this time, it's Steve who threatens Clint.
"I got the get out of jail free card though?"
"Yeah well, I bribed the banker to deny the appeal, so…"
"That's not even a thing that can happen in real life. Do you seriously think bankers can do that, Barton?"
"Yeah! Tony knows that one judge from sleeping with him to get out of a sodomy charge in 1990, and the guy's still alive, and Tony is the banker, so…you're still locked up, sorry Steve—orange does look good on you though,"
"I don't think it was necessary to—"
"Shush Tony'!" Steve picks up Sam's water bottle "Here, Bar'on, I swear to fuck, if ya make up another fuckin' rule again, I'll take every single one'a those little houses, and the little figurines, and shove it up yo—"
Bucky grabs Steve before he can throw his water bottle at Clint, "Okay, okay, Stevie, lets not—"
"Clint ate the pizza you were saving last night." Steve says, his eyebrow turned up,, knowing how Bucky will react, holding out the water bottle to Bucky.
"Clint, you sonuvabitch!" Bucky exclaims, grabbing the water bottle from Steve's hand, and throwing it in Clint's direction, but before it can reach Clint, the bottle is smacked to the side by Natasha, mid-air.
"Okay boys, as much as I agree with your anger, and already have the dress in my closet that I'm gonna wear to his funeral—"
"Huh?!" Clint whispers.;
"—I would like to remind you that he's paying for our Chinese takeout tonight."
"I am?"
Steve and Bucky tear away their eyes from glaring at Clint, and look to Natasha. After a few seconds they both look at each other, and roll their eyes, simultaneously, "…Fine." they both say at the same time, slumping back against the couch behind them.
Sam rolls his eyes at them, "Fuckin' terror twins." he mutters lightheartedly. "Okay, lets gets back into this godforsaken game, please. "
So, they get back into the game—for the fifth fucking time in the past hour, thanks Clint—and Clint is boasting about how he's gonna win, and how they're all going to have to starve tonight because they'll be paying for his Chinese, pizza, and KFC, when Steve and Bucky roll a 12 on the two die they're using, and go past GO.
"And, I'm gonna order multiples of everything so yo—wait… what the fuck! Nah, you guys weren't even near it! Thats—"
"Cheating?" Bucky interjects, smirking like hell at Clint, his arm wrapped around Steve.
Clint starts sputtering, looking around at everyone, who obviously do not care about what just happened, and are just watching amusedly. Probably dreaming about how much they wanna drain from Clint's bank account with their Chinese food order.
Steve looks at Bucky while Clint is going on and on about rules, and how he's apparently banned from every Chinese food place in Manhattan, and when Bucky starts having that look in his eye, the one that always promises victory sex whenever they do game nights like this with the group, Steve decides he'd rather be leaving now, preferably with Bucky in tow, so they can test out their now and improved bed frame (the last five were just test runs, although Stark might call it 'ruining his property with your horrible sexcapades').
So, Steve snarkily replies, “Oi down’t understand whatch’ya sayin’, now feck off Bar'on.” A grin comes onto his face, and he and Bucky start standing up, still practically glued to each other.
Clint pauses, and looks at them, “What in the ever living fuck did you just say.” says Clint, complete confusion on his face and in his words.
As Bucky stands up, and starts running towards the elevator with Steve's hand in his, pulling Steve with him (as if Steve needs to be forced to stay with Bucky), Bucky shouts back almost joyfully, "He said he don't understand whatch'ya sayin', now feck off Bar'on!"
Everyone watches as the elevator doors close slowly, and as Bucky wraps his arms around Steve, Steve shouts, "And póg mo thoin!". That's followed by giggles of mischief from the two all the way up to their floor, and into their bedroom.