Chapter Text
[January]
Bucky struggles through the crowd to get to the bar. He's been in hundreds of places like this over his 70 year captivity - nightclubs were always a great way of hiding out, blending in when on a mission.
But he isn’t here on a mission, unless you count getting shitfaced and drinking the night away. This is his third break from the compound. They are rebuilding it, he and Sam, Hope and Scott and Wanda, and everyone else that wants to stay on and help. Fury and Maria, and of course Steve. Steve, who took a five second break and came back after 80 years of life fully lived. God, that was a shocker, but after the shit they’ve been dealt, they had to adapt very quickly and welcomed him back with open arms.
Oh, he is back, with a soft old man smile, ageing hands and a composure that was much needed in the beginning. It was a unanimous decision that he would be under Fury and Maria, or next to them, like they're some sort of triumvirate or something. Everyone trusts Steve to once again lead them, even without the shield. He is Steve and that is that.
Bucky is broken. He was shattered into all those dust pieces five years ago, and he still thinks that the pieces got somehow mixed up when he was brought back and now not everything is in its correct place. He and Shuri Skype about once a week, texting nearly every day, and she still keeps him grounded like nobody else. It's one of the reasons he's here tonight - she is the one who encourages him to find things that make him feel good, knows all about his love of dancing.
It’s been two months since that day, the ‘lake day’ as he personally calls it. The compound is being rebuilt, the Avengers initiative is back in business, a new generation taking over. Throughout all of this, Bucky has kept it together. He does what is needed. His relationship with Steve's suffered, but apparently Bucky is the only one affected. He gets the distinct feeling that Steve doesn't really care, not nearly as much as Bucky does.
Steve is still blissfully in his happy bubble of getting his bread buttered on both sides, and Bucky... He is trying to make peace with the scraps left over. He can’t begrudge Steve his moment - his life - he just wishes it didn’t break his heart so much. So he's finding ways to cope.
This is only Bucky’s third night out - he's stayed in the compound before because he has nowhere to go. He considered going back to Wakanda where Shuri and T’Challa are busy rebuilding, but there were riots and land fights during the missing five years and his little farm has suffered. His hut was burned down with everything he accumulated in that small period of time, and his animals were stolen or taken in by other farmers. He's sad about it - he really felt he had a good thing going there and didn’t want to give it up so soon. But that was taken out of his hands - there is nothing he can do, so he just stays in the compound. He leaves only when absolutely necessary, and this weekend is one those moments.
Last time he was out he discovered he can still get drunk - it just takes more and stronger alcohol. Moonshine or vodka, anything about 40% or more, he isn't picky. The downside is that he doesn’t stay drunk for long periods of time, but the moments he gets, he treasures. It makes him feel alive like nothing else. Killing and war don’t do it for him anymore, they never really did. The only thing Bucky ever truly wanted was to stay in Brooklyn with Steve, work at the docks, pay the rent, pay for Steve’s medicine, go dancing on weekends and live a life.
Life had other ideas. If he could go back in time he would change a lot. One thing would be to make sure that blasted draft letter never made it to their apartment. He would intercept that quicker than a sniper’s shot. If that letter'd never come he would never have gone to base camp, he'd never have shipped out... Steve would never have been at the expo and become a science experiment and well, as they say, the rest is history.
“Hey, why so serious?”
Bucky turns to his side where a girl is standing very close to him, her eyes looking up to his. “Sorry?” he asks. He didn’t hear her over the music, lost in his thoughts as he was. Seeing it as an invitation she leans closer to him, their bodies snug against each other.
“I asked, why so serious, aren’t you having fun?” No, he isn’t, but that’s why he's here, to forget and to learn to live again. After all, he has nothing else. Avenging doesn’t really count and Ste…
“Well, I wasn’t till I saw you, let me buy you a drink?” He smiles and puts his hand around her waist and she buries herself deeper and smiles leading him to the bar. Maybe he can find a way to discover a small part of the old Bucky.
“I’ll have an Everclear, neat and one…” he orders and looks at her.
“Oh, a rum and coke please.” The bartender smiles and turns to Bucky.
“Everclear is quite expensive.”
“I don’t care, I have money and I'll be ordering a lot of those, so don’t hide the bottle. In fact, how much for the whole one?” The bartender raises his eyebrows but Bucky just smiles and pulls out a roll of notes. He hands it over.
“Tell you what, keep it coming and if you need more, let me know, I have a card too.” The bartender just nods and starts to prepare their drinks.
“So Mr. Everclear, do you dance?” the girl asks with a flirtatious smile. Bucky is maybe old, but he isn’t dead and knows exactly what is on her mind, and maybe - just maybe - he doesn’t mind. Handing her her drink, he takes his and downs it in with one gulp. He smiles at her.
“Give me the first one, Doll,” he replies and pulls her close and tight against him and moves them to the dance floor.
Sometime later Bucky is actually having fun. He can’t remember the last time he did something like this, something so spontaneous, something that made him feel so good. He's learned the new style quickly and is already quite a pro if the sideway glances are any indication. He has a few shots of Everclear in his system and can feel the buzz.
“Want something else to take the edge off?” the girl whispers in his ear after another few shots and songs. He frowns at her and watches as she pulls out a small plastic baggie out of her jean pocket.
“What’s that?” Bucky asks, seeing the small white pills, round but not perfect.
“Something that will make you very happy.”
“You don’t think I’m happy?”
“No. Your body looks happy, but your eyes say otherwise. Come on, I’ll go first, and you’ll see,” she whispers and then places a small pill on her tongue. Bucky can see the change instantly - if he thought she was supple before, now she's practically melting wax in his arms, her eyes black and dilated, her gaze intoxicated. A part of him yells that he wants it too, he wants to feel so relaxed. He almost forgot what it feels like to have no worries. The girl is smiling and happy, dancing provocatively, and his body reacts to it. It has been so long, so incredibly long... He dives right after her.
“Okay, give me.” He isn’t sure that it will do anything for him, not with the replica serum in his veins, but if there is a chance he's going to take it. She pulls out another pill and instead of putting it in his mouth, puts it on her tongue and cups his face. She leans up and he kisses her. She licks into his mouth, the pill melting on their tongues. He can feel the shift in his mind, the blood rushing in his veins, and he loves it. He wants this, all of it.
Later she leads him to the back of the club and books a room. Bucky discovers he can still feel in places that have been dormant for a long time.
The next morning she leaves behind the rest of the pills with a number in case he needs more. After he comes back to the compound he stays in his room all day, only leaving to get some food and find a liquor store to buy a few bottles of Everclear to get a head start. Tonight he's going back and tonight he wants company again. A man this time. Last night is still pulsing in his veins, the smile on his face is broad and he feels like he could just burst out laughing at any moment. He can’t remember when was the last time he felt like this, and now that he's had a taste, he wants more. Everyone is so focused on moving on, on making a future, it’s about time he joins in.
Cody catches his eye halfway through the night, a young man with indigo blue eyes and long ash blond hair. He once saw a magazine call such hair surfer looks. It's shorter than his own, but it's wavy and Bucky’s hand aches to run through it. Cody smiles coyly at him, and it takes them several minutes to get over their initial shyness and meet up on the dance floor. From then on, it's as if they can’t wait any longer. Bucky is the one to lead the way to the rooms, stumbling over his feet as they start making out in the hallway, Cody’s hands already under Bucky’s shirt. Bucky looks at him.
“Hold on.” He lifts him up with one smooth move of his metal arm. Cody wraps his legs around Bucky so they can make it to the rooms quicker. He gives a surprised yelp at being picked up so easily, but Bucky quickly drowns it out with another kiss.
Bucky remembers this night better than the one with the girl. He promises the man he will be back next weekend.
He is.
