Work Text:
Things are working out beautifully! Now that your ship has come in, it’s time to decide what your next big project will be. You may choose to continue to build upon your success or move on to something entirely different. Be willing to travel if necessary.
Bucky forced a smile and hoped to hell it didn’t look as fake as it felt as his boss beamed at him.
“Congratulations on another successful mission, Barnes. I’d like to offer you a promotion to a position as a Hydra board member. This is, of course, an improvement from your current position,” Rumlow said.
“I really appreciate the offer,” Bucky started, “but I’m not sure if I’ll be continuing with-”
“I’d think again about finishing that sentence,” Rumlow cut him off. “If you leave, you’ll never work for Hydra or any of its associates ever again.”
Bucky closed his eyes for a second before answering. “I will not be continuing with the company,” he said. “Consider this my two weeks’ notice.”
Rumlow just stared at him for a second. “Get out.”
“What? I’m more than willing to finish my last two weeks at the company.”
“You heard me. Out.”
Without another word, Bucky stood and stalked out of Rumlow’s office before looks developed the ability to kill.
***
“Becca, you don’t understand, one does not simply quit Hydra and continue working in New York City. It’s impossible,” Bucky said into the phone held between his right shoulder and ear, stretching packing tape over a box ambiguously marked “Bucky’s stuff.”
“Yes, it is entirely necessary for me to move all the way to California. You want me to have a job, right?” He answered after listening to his sister talk for a bit. “No, I won’t be going back into big business like that again. I’ve been thinking about opening a bookstore. Yes, really. Why not? It’ll be fun. I like books.” Bucky sighed and resigned himself to a long evening of packing and listening to his sister lecture him over the phone.
***
It took a few months and more of Bucky’s savings than he would’ve liked to spend, but Bucky’s Books (not the most original name, he knows) was finally almost ready to open. Bucky stood in the middle of the dark store the night before the grand opening, and if there were any tears it was because of the nonexistent dust floating around. Bucky wasn’t crying. Really, he wasn’t.
***
On the very first day Bucky’s Books was open, the most beautiful guy Bucky ever saw strolled into the shop.
The bell over the door chimed for only the fifth or sixth time that day, startling Bucky out of his book from his seat at the counter.
“Welcome to Bucky’s! I’m Bucky, can I help you with anything?”
Looking up, his eyes were caught by a pair of baby blues smiling back at him. Bucky’s mouth went dry and for a second he couldn’t find the motivation to talk. Finally, he settled on smiling and hoping he didn’t look too crazy.
“I haven’t seen this store before. You new here?” Baby Blues asked, with the nicest smile Bucky could remember. It’s possible Bucky didn’t have many functioning brain cells in that moment, but the point stands.
“Yep! This is actually my first day open. Just moved from New York,” Bucky said, after a few seconds’ pause in which he remembered to actually answer the question.
Impossibly, Baby Blues’s smile got wider when he replied, “Great! This area needed a good bookstore. I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of me soon.”
Bucky thought he definitely wouldn’t mind that, but he decided not to embarass himself and stayed quiet.
“I’m Steve, by the way. Steve Rogers,” Baby Blues, or Steve, Bucky corrected himself, told him.
“Nice to meet you. Now I can stop thinking of you as Baby Blues,” Bucky said, filled with immediate regret and an intense desire to spontaneously combust right then and there.
Steve just laughed his cute little laugh and shook his head. “I think I’ve got to be going, but I’ll definitely be back tomorrow.”
Bucky fought down a burst of disappointment as Steve stepped out the door, but halfway over the threshold, Steve paused. The bell rang again as Steve walked back to the counter.
“Actually, if I’m not being too forward, could I borrow a pen? And maybe a sticky note or something?”
Bucky offered the requested pen and sticky note with a curious look, but he didn’t question it. He was still too busy praying for immediate death to actually talk to Steve. Steve scribbled something on the note before reaching over to stick it on Bucky’s metal arm. “Text me, or whatever, you know, if you want. You don’t have to, or anything,” he said, suddenly shy.
Then he turned and practically ran out of the store, setting off the bell again and leaving behind a stunned Bucky.
Is two minutes too soon to text someone? Bucky wondered, when he had more than one functioning brain cell.
Bucky sent out a text before he could second guess himself, resisting the urge to throw the phone down the children’s literature aisle as soon as it sent.
He had just put his phone face down on the counter when his ringtone chimed with a text from Steve. Judging by the response, two minutes was an entirely appropriate time to wait before texting someone.