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It had all started with a comment from Sam; ‘you may be better with a gun on the field, but I’d beat you at laser tag any day.’
Of course, after a brief explanation from you about what laser tag was, Bucky felt the need to rebut; ‘Yeah right, pigeon, good aim is good aim – I’d kick your ass.’
‘I don’t know, Barnes, with your girl on my team, we’d give you a run for your money.’
You had laughed, thinking that was it—a familiar session of friendly banter about a hypothetical situation—but those two seemed to have a different idea.
It was all they could talk about for a while – Bucky even pulled up the information for a local Laser Tag venue in bed that night, checking the prices and team packs before you managed to distract him. Sam would bring it up occasionally, promising that they’d see the result one day. It wasn’t either of them, though, that actually booked it in.
“Alright, I’m sure we’re all as sick of the infamous laser tag argument as I am,” Tony had started, strolling into the lounge with his arms spread, as if in revelation, “so we’re finally going to have a winner.”
Sam was the first to catch on, scrambling out of his chair, almost face-planting in the coffee table as the excitement ran through him. You and Bucky remained cuddled up on the couch, still confused.
“Overnight laser tag – 9pm to 9am. We’re all going.”
Bucky pretty much threw you off him with excitement, standing from the couch and leaping over the coffee table. Sam was already there and the two shared a fist bump before looking back around the room.
Bucky quickly found you again and pointed a finger in your direction, “You’re on my team, doll.”
Slowly, you started to shake your head, a smile attempting to break through on your lips. “That’s not part of the bet, Buck. Sam’s already got dibs on me.”
“What?!” Bucky looked betrayed, a hand to his chest in horror as he watched Sam walk towards you. “Sam can’t have dibs on you, you’re my girlfriend.”
Sam had started laughing maniacally and you could see the amused smile lifting on Tony’s face. Sam reached out and your hand slipped into his as he helped to pull you off the couch.
“Welcome to the winning team,” he smirked, flinging an arm over your shoulder.
Bucky was glaring heavily at the two of you, but you could see the smile trying to break through on his lips as you sent him a wink. Sam dragged you from the room, saying something about strategic planning and bragging that ‘she’s on my side now, Barnes.’
All of a sudden, it was like they were preparing for battle. They might’ve been planning more intently than they did before an actual mission.
Bucky was all research – youtube videos about laser tag, the accuracy of laser tag guns and how they worked, the rules and the ways that he thought he could get around them. Sam was in the gym – he set up a mini DIY obstacle-course, much like the inside of a laser tag arena, and had your whole team run drills, dodging and rolling and aiming and shooting.
The teams went like this:
Sam, you, Wanda, Clint, Tony
Vs.
Bucky, Nat, Steve, Peter, Thor
Peter and Thor made a surprisingly good team, but in the drills, you and Clint were practically unstoppable. You knew you’d put up a good fight against Bucky and Nat, as ruthless as they were.
Everyone was buzzing with excitement and it was strange to see the Avengers so pumped for a game of laser tag. It was brought up in nearly every conversation and you were pretty sure people had started betting money on who would win (you swore you saw Clint hand Peter some money in the kitchen one morning).
Finally, the night arrived, at you never thought you could be so goddamn sick of the words ‘laser tag.’ Between living with Bucky and training with Sam, you were extremely close to blowing your brains out if you ever heard the two words again.
You arrived with Bucky and stepped off his bike, pulling off your helmet and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Whatever happens in there, I love you baby,” you mumble, a teasing smile on your lips.
He stepped off the bike but leaned back against it, pulling you to stand between his legs as his fingers found your waist. He returned a kiss before speaking, “Love you too, sweetheart – don’t hate me when I beat your ass.”
You smiled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. You knew the two of you would have fun with this, no matter what happened. There were weeks of anticipation and intensity, but deep down you all knew this was playful. An escape from the usual destruction in your lives.
“Sleeping with the enemy, Y/n?” Sam waltzed up to the two of you, an eyebrow raised as he clicked the lock of his car.
“Jealous, birdbrain?” Bucky tried to pull you closer, but you removed his hands from your waist.
You took a few steps away from Bucky and gave Sam an amused look. “You can have him, Sammy – the sexual tension between you two is almost unbearable.”
The two of them had the same, unimpressed look on their faces as you dashed away, slipping through the doorway of the venue and greeting the rest of your team as Sam and Bucky entered behind you.
“Let’s kick some ass,” you laughed, a hand on Clint’s shoulder as he slipped on his combat gloves.
The sun was beginning to come up again as the final round started. Exhaustion was setting in, nobody had slept (apart from Peter’s brief power-nap in Tony’s car) and you had all been running around, crouching and dodging for the last 11 hours.
You glanced at the leaderboard, and of course, the final round was the decider. The teams were so close in skill that every round came close to being a draw. 12 rounds. 6 to Bucky’s team. 6 to Sam’s. This was your last chance.
You quickly found yourself pressed up against a blockade, squinting through the darkness, alert for any vest lights. You could hear movement in the distance, the buzzing of a vest as someone was shot and footsteps rushing along the bridge above you.
Bucky could feel the sheen of sweat on his forehead. He had pulled his hair back at some point between round 5 or 6 but it was warm in the arena, and he was determined to win. His heart was beating hard in his chest, and it almost felt like a real battle. The rush of emotion was different though – better. It was excitement rather than fear. Joy rather than guilt. The adrenalin rush in here was similar, yet so very different to what he would feel out there. This was much more fun.
They were deep into the final round and the numbers displayed on the leaderboard were close. It was hard to tell at this point who would win.
He rounded a corner and lifted his gun when he saw the telltale blue lights of the opposite team, but when he saw that it was you, the gun dropped slightly––an instinctual reaction––his subconscious didn’t want to shoot you.
Before he could knock some sense into himself and lift the gun back up, you were surging towards him, one hand gripping the edge of his vest as you pressed your lips to his in a forceful, passionate kiss. It all happened in a matter of seconds and he swore he almost dropped his gun the moment your lips touched his.
His free hand wrapped around your waist due to habit and he pushed back against you.
Your lips left his and your hand trailed down his torso, teasingly tracing over and pulling at his belt buckle as you pressed a series of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. He was no longer paying attention to the game and your name slipped from his lips in a quiet, warning, groan as your pressed him up against the wall.
Finally, your lips reached his ear, brushing across his skin and sending a shiver down his spine.
“Sorry, baby.”
It took him a moment to register your whispered words as you crouched down in front of him, hands squeezing his thighs to keep up the distraction – you could imagine how this would look without context.
The cloudiness seemed to fade from his mind and he tried to blink away the lingering feeling of your lips on his. In that brief moment, his eyes widened and he caught sight of Sam on the bridge above you, laser pointed directly at Bucky’s chest.
“FUC–“ before he could even get the curse out, his vest buzzed loudly and lit up, flashing through the dark halls. You fell back onto the ground, laughing as Bucky turned to bang his head against the wall.
“That was gross, but thanks!” Sam yelled out, before turning to find the last member of the red team, leaving you to deal with Bucky’s rage.
“You guys cheat- that was not– that wasn’t fair.” He was tugging at his hair, stuttering some sort of response with wide eyes. “How could you, doll? That has to be against the rules.”
You pulled yourself up from the ground, a grin still on your lips. “Not my fault you get distracted so easily, baby.”
“Are you kidding me?” He chuckled, pulling you close by your vest, “that was fucking hot.”
As his lips touched yours again, you heard footsteps approaching and turned to face whoever was there, not bothering to lift your gun. In a flash, your vest buzzed loudly, signaling that you were out, and Natasha’s blonde head appeared behind the railing of a nearby lamp.
“You suck, Barnes!” She yelled, before sprinting away, Sam following in her footsteps, gun raised as he tried to tag her.
Bucky pulled you back towards him, his fingers locking together behind your waist so that you were enclosed within his arms. “What d’ya say we get outta here before Sam starts his boasting?”
“Y’know you can’t avoid it forever,” you mumbled, between kisses. “He’d break down our door just to rub it in your face.”
“Well then, let’s go home and give him a reason to regret that, babygirl.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you chuckled, running your fingers through the hairs on the back of his neck.
“Alright, let’s go, Barnes.”