Work Text:
A cold wind ruffles the hair of the man who stands atop SHIELD HQ, looking down over Avengers Academy. Although cheerful conversation and the sounds of dedicated training rise from below, the man on the roof is aloof, disconnected. He stands apart from the people below, from the century where he has found himself. Found himself… and now lost himself.
The man used to be called Bucky Barnes, but now, there is someone else who has claim to that name. Perhaps more claim than the man on the roof. The other Bucky Barnes is visible, far below, dancing the lindy hop without a care in the world. The other Bucky Barnes laughs- is capable of laughter- alongside Steve Rogers, who is dancing the Charleston and grinning wider than he has in living memory. He’s clearly taken with the new Bucky Barnes. Taken away…
Who is the man on the roof now, when his name has been taken along with the only person in this world he has been holding on to?
Metal hitting metal behind him makes him turn to see the grappling hook caught on the edge of the roof. A few moments later, Black Widow clambers up, pristine in her Super Spy outfit, and devastating in her unimpressed look.
“Dorm chair not a good enough backdrop for you anymore?” she drawls, crossing her arms.
“What are you talking about?” the man on the roof asks.
Natasha huffs. “You and Clint both like to sulk there for hours at a time. Did you decide the second-highest point on campus was more dramatic?”
“I’m not dramatic,” the man says. “You just don’t understand my pain.” He turns back to the view of his former boyfriend and his replacement, dancing together down below, and sighs, long and heavy.
He has truly lost so much.
Natasha sits down on the edge of the roof next to him, and a moment later one of her tiny fists catches him in the back of the knee. The man barely stays on the roof, and throws her a dirty look before sitting beside her.
“So what’s the issue?” she asks calmly.
The man points out the club and its occupants.
“Boyfriend troubles?” Natasha asks, as though evidence of his abandonment isn’t right before her eyes.
“He likes Bucky Barnes better than me,” the man says morosely.
“We’re not going to do this speaking in third person.”
“Do I have to go by Winter Soldier now, all the time?” the man whispers. “I don’t really like that unless it’s for the band.”
“Bucky. Stop.” Natasha says sternly. “You are Bucky. He is Bucky. It’s allowed to have two people with the same name. How many Thors do we have on campus? Not to mention two Tonys, two Sams, two Brians, two Jessicas-”
“Okay,” Bucky says, giving up. “But Steve likes the other Bucky better. He hasn’t been damaged beyond repair by the evils of the world.”
Natasha rolls her eyes. “Steve doesn’t like him better. You’re his boyfriend. The other Bucky is a child.”
“He's sixteen,” Bucky argues.
“Exactly.”
“We're nineteen and twenty.”
“Add the weight of our experiences,” Natasha says wisely. She looks up at the clouds, and Bucky is reminded that she has a dark past to match his, and she still manages to pull herself together to be one of the most valuable members of the Academy. Maybe she does know what she’s talking about.
“If Steve doesn’t like him better, why is he spending so much time with him?”
Natasha narrows her eyes, still looking up at the sky. Bucky considers that, if he were the sky, he’d be scurrying out of the way of that cool-eyed glare.
“You let me worry about that.”
Steve comes off the dance floor with a light heart and a sweaty brow. The robot at the bar tosses him a towel, which he uses gratefully. He asks for a ginger ale and has gulped most of it down when he senses a presence by his elbow.
He barely doesn’t flinch when he looks and is hit by the full force of the Black Widow’s disapproval.
“Um… Hi Natasha,” he stutters, racking his brain to think of what he’s done wrong.
“Do you have plans for lunch?” the Widow asks, voice low. Her emerald eyes glint in a way that would make a lesser man flinch.
Steve smiles cautiously, thinking about his plans. “Yeah, Bucky and I are gonna-”
“Cancel.”
Steve blinks. “What?”
“You’re going to cancel,” Natasha repeats, in a tone that brooks no argument. She tilts her head, slow and exacting, and Steve glances over her shoulder at-
Oh.
Bucky- Steve’s Bucky, not the multiverse-traversing Bucky who’s chattering away with Hellcat on the dance floor- is standing by the entrance to the club, looking gloomy and small. He’s not looking in Steve’s direction, but Steve knows that he’s watching. It’s been- gosh, it’s been nearly a week since they’ve spent any time together, since Steve has been getting to know the new Bucky, but he hasn’t forgotten his oldest friend’s special quirks.
“Yeah,” he says firmly. “I’m going to cancel. My boyfriend and I are going to spend some quality time together.”
Natasha’s icy glare thaws slightly and the corner of her mouth twitches up. Steve breathes a quiet sigh of relief.
Natasha watches from her eavesdropping station as Steve lets the cub scout know he’s actually going to spend some time with his boyfriend. Baby Bucky takes it well, waving Steve away endearingly and dragging out his accordion for Patsy and Doreen to dance to.
When Steve starts to apologize to the older Bucky, Natasha listens in just long enough to make sure she doesn’t have to drag him over to the Arena for a well-deserved smack-down. She figures he’s being punished enough when Bucky starts expressing his feelings in poetic verse. When Steve suggests they go get a pizza together and Bucky smiles that wide-eyed hopeful smile, Natasha turns off her listening device.
One disaster averted… and another brewing. Over by the bar, Natasha spots Tony flirting with Black Cat, and peeking around to see if Pepper has noticed. Near the pool table, Pepper is flirting with Captain Britain, casually glancing at Tony every so often to see if he’s noticed.
Natasha sighs to herself. “The things I do for spying.”