Work Text:
"I worry about Steve," Natasha said as she slid into a seat next to Bucky.
He was sitting at the dining table in the kitchen of the communal floor, a tablet in front of him, lazily scrolling down the news pages. Recently, he had been making a point of spending more time on the communal floor as part of his effort to readjust to a normal life, but he noticed that the space was always strangely empty while he was there. Unless he had Steve at his side. Only Natasha seemed at ease around him.
Her remark made him frown. "Why?" he asked, already wondering whether he had overlooked some alarming signs. Both he and Steve had their issues, their fair share of nightmares and triggers, but if asked, he would say it was getting better rather than worse.
Natasha leaned her back against Bucky's side and kicked her feet on the table. "I tried to get him to live a little. To go on a date, to find someone, to enjoy himself… Man can't live on work alone! But no, he turns down all the options I offer."
Bucky smirked, even though he could relief wash over him. "Welcome to my life." Steve being hopeless when it came to flirting and overall interaction with prospective sweethearts was nothing new.
"If he simply wasn't interested," Natasha said with a sigh and a hand gesture that was unnecessarily dramatic. From some people, Bucky would find it annoying, but he enjoyed Natasha's dorkiness. Underneath it all, she was just as broken as he was, but she wouldn't allow it to stop her from going on with her life. She gave him hope. "If he simply wasn't interested, I'd stop. I'd leave him be. But I know for a fact that he isn't uninterested. Just difficult."
Bucky nodded. "I know how you feel," he said and patted her knee comfortingly with his flesh hand. "Just let him do it on his own pace. He'll get there." If Bucky remembered correctly, Steve didn't do that horribly with Agent Carter… even though that might have been Peggy's success rather than Steve.
"You don't get it, I have money on it!"
His eyes widened and a moment later, he actually laughed. It was a startled chuckle, but he didn't laugh much at all these days and so he was going to count it. "You made a bet about Steve's love life?"
Natasha shrugged and for second her face turned a little sheepish. "More like…" She finished with a vulgar gesture Bucky did not remember a dame having made back in his days, but he liked her even more for it. Sex life, then, Bucky figured.
"Sorry, I think helping you would be against some sort of moral code." As much as he wanted Steve to be happy and perhaps getting laid could be a part of that, he didn't really like the idea of other people being nosy about Steve's privacy.
"Bro code, is what you mean," Natasha said.
"Yeah, whatever. I want it on the record that I don't like this bet and will take no part in it."
"I'll remember you said that, Sir," JARVIS interjected.
Bucky smirked. "Thanks. But. I do agree Steve," he repeated Natasha's gesture, "wouldn't be a bad thing."
Natasha jumped up to her feet and threw her hands in an exasperated gesture. "If he only let me help. But no, he wants someone with shared experiences and no one meets that requirement."
"Tough," Bucky agreed, resting his head against his metal hand. Steve's life was quite unique.
Suddenly, Natasha paused in what was turning into nervous pacing and looked at him. Her eyes grew comically wide. "Oh," she said. "Oh!"
Before Bucky could ask her what she was thinking, she was out of the room.
***
Bucky, who had completely failed to notice he was doing it until Steve pointed it out, blinked. "Really? Sorry, I didn't realize-"
"No!" Steve interrupted him hastily. "No, I like it. It's been a while since I heard you do that." It was probably all the way back in the 1930s, likely before either of them became a soldier.
Sometimes, Bucky was still waiting to be scolded, punished, wiped. But Steve's assurance was enough and hearing it, Bucky grinned, a sudden wave of playfulness taking over, and he shook himself dog-style. Droplets from his still wet hair hit Steve who laughed and jumped away, shielding himself with his arms. He didn't try to tickle Bucky in retaliation, because that had already been proven to make Bucky panic, but he threw a napkin at Bucky's head, at least.
Living with Steve wasn't new. However, it was different to their matchbox apartment when they were younger. Back then, they had no money and the only place they could afford was barely big enough to fit both of them, not to mention the leaking roof and paper-thin walls. Now just the bathroom they shared was bigger than their Brooklyn apartment, and they had each their own room and there was still a lot of space to spare. If that wasn't enough of a luxury on its own, there were all the appliances and devices that hadn't even existed before the war.
But overall, living with Steve felt familiar in the way few things did in the 21st century.
"Natasha tells me you aren't taking enough girls dancing," Bucky said later, with Steve's shoulder comfortably pressed against his as they sat on the sofa in their shared living room, boxes of takeout food in their hands.
"Or to dinners, or for strolls through the park, or to museum exhibits," Steve said with an eyeroll. "If it were up to her, I'd have stepped out with half the New York by now."
Bucky chuckled. "Yeah, I think she'd be satisfied if you'd take out just one." He wasn't trying to help Natasha, he really wasn't, but he was a little curious as to why Steve showed no interest in going out with anyone. He was a perfect catch for anyone.
Steve shrugged. "I don't really- Hey, I don't see you going on dates either."
"Don't try to change the topic. We're talking about you. Besides, I've had my fair share seventy years ago, I can take a break." The truth was, he wasn't sure he really could talk to anyone properly without watching his words and he didn't want to spend a date playing some role. He wore masks, literal and figurative, too much as it was – he didn't want to do it on his free time, too.
"I just- All they see when they look at me- They want to date Captain America, not Steve Rogers." Steve frowned into his box of Chinese food. "None of them would look at me twice if I still looked the way I did before the war. I can't- I keep thinking about that and-"
"Steve," Bucky said softly and rested his hand on Steve's arm. "There're plenty gaps in my memories but I remember one thing: Steve Rogers before the serum? Wonderful and amazing. Anyone would have been lucky to have had him."
Steve glanced at him and though he smiled, there was something sad in it. "Yeah, Buck, I'm not sure you remember that right."
But Bucky remembered. He remembered the bravery and stubbornness wrapped up in ninety pounds of an unhealthy body that threatened to give up on him every winter. That Steve Roger had been no less worthy of love than the muscle and strength that allowed him to carry the shield.
***
"Why didn't you get him tickets for something you'd take him to yourself?" He didn't even point out that it wasn't that close to Steve's birthday at all.
She smiled, innocence herself, and patted his arm. The left one. "You need some fun, too."
***
They had been excited and ready to go when an emergency appeared. Bucky was tempted to suggest they should let others deal with that and go enjoy themselves, but Steve would never go for it. Even though Steve was much more of a baseball fan than Bucky had ever been. they changed into their costumes instead.
Later, when they returned home, all battered and bloody, Bucky picked up the tickets that still lay on the coffee table. "Did Stark invent time travel yet?"
"Don't think so," Steve said and plucked the tickets out of Bucky's hand. He stared at them for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh. "We should get… a shoebox or something. For things like this. So that we can open it when we're retired and mourn all the living we've missed, and then do something about it."
"Ask the government for refunds," Bucky suggested with a snicker before looking at Steve curiously. "You think we'll really get to retire?"
Steve nodded and offered him a smile. There was a smear of blood on his lip where it had been broken during their last battle, but the cut was already healing. "Yeah." He dropped the tickets back to the table and sat down onto the sofa. "When we're old and tired, we'll get a house in the countryside somewhere and enjoy some peace and quiet."
Bucky blinked. "Together?"
His question startled Steve. "Yeah. At least, I assumed-" he started and though he turned his face away, he failed to hide his blush.
"Yes! Of course!" Bucky nodded eagerly, not wanting to Steve to think he wouldn't want to do that. "It makes sense. But can we move somewhere, I don't know, warm?"
"Florida?" Steve suggested, looking at Bucky again, visibly relieved.
Bucky pulled a face. "How about… Some island. Maybe we could afford an island of our own? Or we'd get Stark to buy one and we'll rent it from him." He sat down onto the floor crosslegged, facing Steve. They both needed a shower, food, and sleep, but this conversation was for some reason a priority at the moment.
"An island?" Steve laughed. "Yeah, sure, we'll buy ourselves an island."
"We can go swimming every morning and you can paint all the sunsets and in the evening we'll sit on the terrace and drink cold drinks," Bucky fantasized, a pleasant warmth settling in his chest at the thought. Even if it was a fantasy that was unlikely to come true, it was nice to imagine.
"And what will you do when I'm painting?"
"I'll learn to fish. And cook. And sit still for you to paint me."
A smile settled on Steve's face, warm and happy, and Bucky caught himself wanting to trace it with his fingertips. He shifted to sit on his hands.
***
Bucky shrugged. "We're together all the time."
"Always working or too tired from working to do anything much but watch the tv."
"It'll get better when we buy our retirement island." Before Natasha could ask what Bucky was talking about, he changed the topic quickly: "How's getting Steve to date going?" Even though a voice in the back of his brain kept saying that once Steve found someone, the space he had for Bucky in his life would shrink significantly, it would still be a good thing for Steve.
Natasha smiled secretively. "I'm working on it."