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“Why the long face?”
Four words, spoken with casual naivete and a breath of gentle teasing. Bucky froze, the unlit cigarette, now forgotten, dangling between his lips as he looked around for the source of his distraction. His gaze landed on her as she flicked her lighter, bringing the flame to her own cigarette and taking a drag. Her hair itself was like fire, brilliant red and vivid orange dancing around her face in the breeze. She smiled, smoke billowing in delicate tendrils from her nose and mouth as she held the lighter out.
Bucky blinked, glancing around once again. Surely she was addressing someone else? His eyes narrowed as his search came back empty and he looked at her again.
She wiggled the lighter in his direction and chuckled, the sound electrifying every nerve in his body and making the hair on his arms stand on end. A sound that pure and beautiful should be reserved for...well, anything or anyone except him. Bucky knew he should turn around and go back inside - leave her alone and untainted by his mere existence.
And yet as she watched him patiently, the sun overhead making her eyes and hair sparkle, he silently nodded his thanks and accepted the proffered item. It took a few failed attempts before he successfully ignited the tip of his cigarette and inhaled the bitter smoke, returning the lighter in silence.
“I’m y/n,” she offered, tucking it away again.
Dumbstruck.
It’s not a word Bucky would have used to describe himself in recent years. As a naive, fresh-faced kid 20 years ago? Sure. But a former soldier and recently retired enforcer for a powerful mob back East? Hell no.
And yet, there was no other word to describe it.
Bucky Barnes was dumbstruck.
He took a long drag and exhaled, hoping the cloud of smoke would provide some sort of camouflage as he spoke.
“‘M’name’s Bucky,” he mumbled.
“Nice to meet you, Bucky,” her tone brightening around her widening smile. “I haven’t seen you before. You new?”
Bucky nodded, hiding again behind his antiquated bad habit.
“I work just there,” she gestured behind her, cigarette carefully poised between two fingers. “At the salon. I’m a stylist.”
Bucky jerked his thumb to the door a few places down from where she’d pointed.
“I just started at the pawn shop.”
Y/n nodded, taking another drag.
“You said something. Earlier.” Bucky cleared his throat, his continued socialization a surprise to himself. “What did you say?”
Y/n grinned, sheepishly, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it with the toe of her worn Converse.
“I asked ‘Why the long face?’” Y/n pulled her jacket around her, shielding herself from the chilly gusts of late winter air. “It’s just...well. You looked kinda sad.”
Bucky chuckled, flicking his cigarette away deftly. “I’ve been told that’s just my face.”
Y/n pressed her lips together and narrowed her gaze at him, nodding thoughtfully.
“I appreciate the concern, though.” One side of Bucky’s mouth quirked up, the ghost of the charming ladies-man he’d once been playing over his features.
“I’ll see you around, Bucky.” She laughed to herself once more before ducking her head and retreating toward her shop, the door closing behind her.
I hope so. Bucky thought to himself. I really hope so.
----
The next few weeks passed in much the same way; smoke breaks shared behind the strip mall, shy smiles and quiet comfort found in the low murmuring between them.
“But why did you leave New York for bumfuck Ohio?” She pressed gently one day, flicking ash into the wind. “This place is just so...boring.”
Bucky’s jaw tensed, having dreaded this question from the moment he put the Empire State in his rearview mirror. The dread compounding even more as the thought of telling her the truth flashed through his mind.
Bucky took another drag before tossing the butt on the ground and stomping it out mercilessly.
“New York lied to me. I needed the truth.” Bucky smirked in self-contempt, the irony heavy on his tongue. It wasn’t entirely false, but it wasn’t the honesty he wished he could give her, either. “Besides, boring isn’t so bad.”
He chanced a look in her direction and found her, nodding thoughtfully as she often did, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. To Bucky, that one gesture felt as though she saw through him, though the feeling wasn’t raw and exposed as he kept anticipating. It felt...reassuring, somehow. Like she saw him as someone he wasn’t even certain he was, and was just biding her time until she could reflect the image back to him.
“Well, whatever brought you here, Bucky,” she smiled, brushing the neon green and pink hair from her eyes. “I’m really thankful it did.”
Bucky cleared his throat, refusing to look at his watch, as though doing so would deplete their time together faster.
“What about you? If it’s so boring here, why do you stay?” His tone bordered on teasing, but as soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them.
Y/n blinked rapidly, the edges of her smile crumbling visibly. He could practically see her forcing her facial muscles to keep it place.
“It’s my dad,” her voice was barely a whisper. “He’s sick. Cancer. My mom left ages ago and I’m all he’s got.”
She shrugged, leaving him with more questions than answers. Bucky knew better than most not to press the matter. She never did with him, so he allowed her the same respect.
“I’m sorry.”
Y/n nodded, a silent acceptance of his sincerity. She took a small step forward - her warmth and vitality crowding his space in all the best ways - and, leaning up, pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Blood roared in Bucky’s ears and his heart thudded against his ribs almost violently. The feel of her chapped lips on his skin lingered as she stepped back.
“Have a good afternoon, Bucky.” She started to walk back inside, but turned to face him again. “You oughta come by sometime, let me get my fingers in that hair of yours.”
Feigning offense, Bucky scoffed, and pushed some of the long strands back over his ears. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
Y/n smiled, a renewed joy in the curve of her lips. “Nothing.”
Bucky watched as she retreated back through the door of the salon, finding himself, once again, dumbstruck.
----
“What about - ” she drew the word out, finger outstretched as she settled on the one she wanted, “that one?”
Bucky chuckled. Of course she would pick that one.
“That one is Vega.”
Bucky turned his head, finding her profile highlighted by the glow of the heavens above. He found her joy intoxicating.
He’d been nervous when he asked if she wanted to do something after work earlier in the day. Nervous and more than a little clumsy, having already convinced himself that she’d turn him down. But she hadn’t. In fact, Bucky thought she almost looked relieved. Though whether it was because she’d hoped he’d ask or because she simply needed a brief reprieve from the responsibility of caring for an ailing father, he wasn’t sure.
All he knew for certain was that sitting there, blanketed by an inky black sky dotted with shimmering stars next to her was the only place he wanted to be. He felt a bone-deep peacefulness he’d never experienced in his life and it had everything to do with the pastel blue-haired girl who’d agreed to go stargazing with him.
"You know," he began, swallowing thickly when she turned to face him. "They say that Vega was a goddess who fell in love with a farmer. She descended the heavens to be with him and promised to bring him back with her. Her father became so enraged with them, he banished them both to the sky, but far apart from one another."
"That's so sad," she whispered, her face scrunched.
Bucky nodded.
"But," he began, desperate to wipe the frown from her lips, "once a year - on the seventh day of the seventh month - a bridge of magpies forms across the milky way so the lovers can be reunited once more."
It worked.
Y/n's eyes glittered brightly with excitement again and at once Bucky's breath was stolen from his lungs. In that moment, Bucky would have lassoed the moon and brought it to earth if it meant being cocooned in her mirth for a few more seconds.
"That's so romantic, in a horribly tragic kind of way." She laughed, the sound knitting together pieces of himself he'd long assumed irreparable. "Thank you for this, Bucky. I needed some fresh air."
"Anytime, sweetheart."
The voice in his head bellowed that the blush gracing her cheeks was a figment of his imagination. But, as her hand linked with his, the roar of doubt and fear subsided for a moment. He closed his eyes briefly, meticulously cataloging the feel of her palm in his own.
"What are you thinking?" Her melodic voice vibrated through the night air.
"Sometimes," he started, unsure how to put his chaotic thoughts into words. "Sometimes I feel like I'm sinking and I can't seem to catch my breath."
Her thumb soothed gentle circles over his knuckles, sending a shiver down his spine.
"But for some reason - when I'm with you - I feel like I can't help but float." Bucky cringed. As often as he'd considered expressing his budding feelings for her, he had done a piss-poor job when the moment presented itself.
And yet...
Her lips were warm against the rough skin of his hand and it shot little jolts of electricity up his arm and throughout his body.
"I'll be your Dead Sea, Bucky," her breath tickled the hair on the back of his hand as she pressed another kiss there. "You'll never sink when you're with me."
----
“You’re insane.”
Y/n giggled merrily as the rhythmic swells of Latin beats carried on the breeze from the Puerto Rican restaurant a few doors away.
Bucky grinned. "Probably."
"It's raining!" Y/n protested, a whine lacing her words.
Bucky tipped his head to one side, his hand held out feeling the gentle patter of rain against his skin.
"’S’not raining, it's sprinkling. I know you're sweet, but I promise ya won't melt." His words were flat, but his lips betrayed the attempt at a deadpan retort.
Y/n simply narrowed her gaze at him, crossing her arms over her chest, though her smile muted the effect of her challenge.
“Aw, cah’mon, sweetheart,” Bucky drawled, Brooklyn accent thick and charming. “No one’s gonna see us.”
“I don’t know how!”
Y/n glanced nervously from Bucky’s outstretched palm to his face and back.
“Well, lucky for you, I’m an excellent teacher.” Bucky quirked an eyebrow as his lips drew up in an inviting grin.
Reluctantly - but only just - she released the air from her lungs in a dramatic sigh, throwing her hands in the air.
“Fine. But it’s only because you’re cute.”
Bucky’s smile widened as his pulse quickened, a rush of warmth heating his cheeks as she placed her right hand in his. He draped her other on his shoulder before planting his right hand against her back.
“It’s easy, just remember one, two, three. One, two, three.” He squeezed her hand encouragingly. “Now, when I step forward you step back. Just mirror my steps and follow my lead. One, two, three. One, two, three.”
Slowly, carefully, Bucky moved them both in a less-than-graceful rendition of a Salsa dance. He didn’t care when she stepped on his toes and cursed under her breath. All that mattered to him was the feel of her in his arms and the sparkle in her eyes as their steps became somewhat synchronized.
"So," Bucky mused, taking advantage of her gaze averted in favor of their feet. "Cute, huh?"
Y/n's steps faltered, her left foot landing hard against Bucky's right and her head connecting with his chin as she tried to jerk her eyes up to his. Bucky yelped in pain and y/n stumbled backward, her feet tangling with his as they both crumpled to the ground in a heap.
"Oh my God, Bucky!" Y/n gasped, hands scrambling for purchase as she tried to untangle herself. "I'm so sorry! Are you ok?!"
Bucky's deep laughter halted her efforts to climb off him. She laughed then too - high, slightly embarrassed giggles that she tried to cover with her palm. Her eyes widened as his arms tightened around her waist, drawing her in closer.
Bucky swept the faded purple hair from her face, brushing his thumb against her jaw as their laughter died. It was as if time stopped and the only thing that existed in that moment was the two of them. Her breath caught gently when he hooked his fingers behind her neck and began to pull her face to his.
Whether it was poor timing or just another way for the universe to screw him over, he couldn't be sure. But before their lips met, the skies opened up and large, cold raindrops pelted them, instantly drenching them both and ruining whatever moment it might have been.
Y/n squealed, jumping to her feet and ducking under the shelter of the awning. Defeated, frustrated and wet, Bucky slowly ambled up and joined her a few moments later. Bucky groaned running his fingers through his soaking hair and trying in vain to wring the water out. Y/n grinned, her cheeks and nose dusted a light pink that he was sure hadn't been there before he'd asked her to dance.
"Y/n," Bucky started but froze when he realized his voice was one of two calling her name in the same moment.
"Mrs. Perry's timer just went off!"
"I'll be right in!" She called back cheerfully, though her eyes shone with reluctance as Bucky stared into them. "Shit. I'm sorry, Bucky. I uh," she pressed her palms together and dropped her gaze briefly. "Thank you for the dance lesson and sorry for...ya know...being about as graceful as a baby moose."
Before he could protest her self-deprecating remark, she leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek and turned to go back inside. Bucky stared after her, his cheek warm despite the chill the rain had tried burying inside his bones.
----
Bucky’s thumb drummed nervously against the wooden surface of the reception desk as he did yet another visual sweep of the room. It was more quiet than he’d expected, though to be honest, he had little to base his assumptions on.
A few agonizing moments later, a tall, raven haired woman with blood red lips and a ring through her eyebrow approached. She smiled warmly at him, wiping her palms on the front of her black apron.
“Hi, can I help you?”
Bucky swallowed, his nerves making him jittery. “Yeah, I’m looking for y/n.”
“I’m sorry, did you have an appointment?” The woman frowned, a deep crease marring her heavily made-up face. “Judith was supposed to call all of her appointments last night.”
Fear prickled at the back of his neck and a shiver ran down his spine.
“I didn’t have an appointment. I’m Bucky. From next door? Is she okay?”
“Oh of course. Bucky.” The woman smiled and then sighed. “Her father passed away yesterday afternoon. I know she’d been expecting it eventually, but I don’t think anyone is really ever ready.”
His heart broke for her. He wished he’d known or that there was something he could have done. He’d make the earth spin backwards if it would make her happy.
“Do you know where she lives?” Bucky cringed knowing how stalker-y that sounded. “I just, I’m worried about her.”
The woman pursed her lips, her eyes roaming over his face, studying him. Whatever she’d found there must have been enough because she pulled out a pen and a slip of paper.
“If anything happens to her, Bucky From Next Door, I will not hesitate to kill you. I know where you work and I know that boss of yours better than you do.” She scribbled something on the paper before pushing it towards him. Her expression softened, then, a small smirk playing at the edge of her lips. “Besides, I think she could use a friend right now. If that’s what you’re calling yourselves these days.”
Bucky blushed, but nodded. He mumbled his thanks as he hurried out the door.
----
Bucky paused, his fist poised to knock on the bright yellow door as he sucked in a steadying breath. The setting sun stole the warmth of spring from the air and he found himself shivering. Just when he calmed his nerves, the door opened suddenly, startling him and forcing him to take a step backward. Y/n’s face was pale and her wide eyes were rimmed with red, but the visible signs of sorrow did nothing to lessen her beauty.
“Bucky?” She gasped a second before she lunged for him, wrapping him in a fierce hug.
He held her as she shuddered against him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. The sound of her broken sobs made his stomach churn and he rubbed small, comforting circles against her back.
She pulled back suddenly, rubbing her eyes violently and huffing a frustrated laugh.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blubber all over - “
“No,” Bucky cut her off. “Sweetheart, don’t apologize. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Sniffling, she tried smiling, though it was little more than a faint upturn of her lips.
"You are, aren't you." Her nose scrunched in thought. "How did you know?"
Bucky ran a shaking hand through his hair, eyes focused in his scuffed boots.
"I, uh," he cleared his throat. "I stopped by to see if I could get a haircut. They told me about...what happened." He looked at her then. "I'm so sorry, y/n."
She nodded, arms wrapping around herself.
"I knew it was coming soon, I just," she took a deep breath and released it. She continued, voice soft. "I thought I would have more time, ya know?"
Bucky hummed in understanding.
"You want to come in? I just made some coffee." She laughed. "I don't even know why I came out here. I think I'm a little out of it."
Bucky followed her inside, shutting the door behind him. She led him through the small entryway and into the kitchen, dodging a small pile of suitcases stacked near the doorway. Glasses rattled as she searched for a pair of mismatched mugs and set them on the counter beside the coffee pot.
"You goin' somewhere?" Bucky tipped his head toward the bags when she looked at him.
Her eyes flashed with something Bucky didn't understand before she turned back to her task. The scent of black coffee was comforting as she handed him a mug. A frowning panda glared up at him from the surface of the cup below the words "I hate mornings." It made Bucky smile.
Y/n cleared her throat, drawing his attention back to her. She faced him, hip resting against the edge of the counter.
"He had been sick for so long, I started to think that this was all my life would ever be. I figured I'd stay, take care of him, maybe get a few cats." Cradling her own mug in one hand, she ran her fingers through uncharacteristically messy orange hair. "But, now that he's...gone…" her voice trembled on the words, but she continued. "I don't know. I think domestic life never really suited me. I kind of want to live for myself, for a change."
Bucky nodded, forcing down the lump in his throat before taking a sip of coffee.
Y/n smoothed her hands along the sides of her mug, her brow furrowed as she stared at the black liquid.
"His funeral is Tuesday," she sniffed. "I didn't really have any expenses here, so I've got some money saved. I thought, why not just get away for awhile, ya know?"
Bucky set his cup down and took a step toward her. Her breath hitched, though she didn't look at him. Carefully he tugged the mug from her hands and placed it beside his.
"Well, I'm glad," he smirked, placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing gently. "Cause you and cats? That's just not right."
Y/n giggled, the sound oddly strangled around the sudden resurgence of tears.
"C'mere," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her head under his chin. She breathed deeply, hugging him closer and fisting her hands in the back of his shirt.
This time when she pulled back, she kept hold of him, but her face twisted in confusion.
"Wait, did you say you wanted a haircut?!" Her voice bordered on incredulous.
Bucky shrugged one shoulder. "Thought it might be time for a change. 'Sides, you said you wanted to get your hands on it."
Y/n gaped at him and reached up to run her fingers through his chestnut locks. The feel of her nails against his scalp forced his eyes closed and he hummed lightly.
She tugged on one strand, not enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. When his eyes opened again, the soft look on her face startled him. Her hand dropped to the curve of his jaw, her thumb brushing gently against the bristles peppering his cheek.
"Maybe a trim, but there's no way I could deprive the world of this hair, Buck. That would be a travesty." She blushed. "I only wanted an excuse to run my fingers through it."
Without giving himself a chance to back out, Bucky dipped his head and kissed her. Her lips were warm and she sighed, pressing herself closer to him. His tongue licked across her lip as his nose brushed hers. He pulled back, tugging her bottom lip gently between his before sucking in a steadying breath.
She smiled, pressing her forehead against his. "About time."
Bucky chuckled, pecking her lips twice as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Come with me."
Her voice was so low, he wondered for a moment if he'd imagined it, but her gaze was pleading.
"Y/n," he sighed. "I don't know if that's a good idea."
Defeat, exhaustion, embarrassment and rejection played across her face as she nodded, her hands dropping at her sides.
"Sorry," she breathed, turning away from him.
Bucky caught her elbow and turned her back to face him.
"It's not because I don't want to, because God knows I do," he bit down on his lip, clenching his eyes shut in preparation for what came next. "There's just things about me that you don't know. Things I don't want you to know, because seeing disappointment in your eyes might actually kill me."
Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb tracing the edge of his mouth before gently tugging his lip from between his teeth. His eyes found hers again and his heart stammered at the tenderness there.
"Bucky, I don't have to know everything about who you used to be to know you are a good man. I could never be disappointed in you."
Her words lifted a small part of the weight he'd carried from the East coast, though he figured the bulk of it would likely remain with him forever.
"When I left New York, I didn't know exactly where I was going. I just headed west, kept moving, until I got here. This just felt right, somehow. I don't know why I stopped here, y/n. I needed someone I could trust, but it felt impossible. I felt like all I would ever do was sink under the weight of what I left behind." He smoothed a hand through her hair, watching the way the light danced over the brightly colored strands. "But then I met you and, I know I don't deserve it, and I'll never be worthy enough, but you make me want to try. Try to be better, try to be a good man."
She frowned at him then, and confusion jumbled his thoughts and burned his eyes.
"You don't have to try, Bucky. You are." She smiled. "And I already told you. You'll never sink when you're with me."
Bucky kissed her, this time with a fierceness. Her tongue meet his eagerly and once again he found himself sinking, but this time in all the best ways.
He pulled back, his lips swollen and his lungs aching for air.
"Come with me, Bucky." She plead again, her voice was rough and he knew he'd lost any willpower he'd once had to her.
He nodded and she rewarded him with the sweetest smile he'd ever known. Once again he found himself dumbstruck.
Curling her fingers with his, she tugged him out of the kitchen - away their already forgotten mismatched mugs half-full of warm coffee - and led him to the sofa. He sat down, pulling her onto his lap and resting his chin against her hair.
A comfortable silence fell between them as he stroked her back and breathed in the scent of her. If he could bottle up a moment in time to save forever, this would be it. He'd never felt such peace and while he struggled to accept his worthiness of such a feeling, knowing she trusted him meant the world.
She sniffed, pulling back to look into his eyes, and the sorrow he saw etched into her face was palpable.
"Would you stay the night?" Her lip quivered as she tried and failed to blink back tears. "I - uh- I don't want to be alone."
Bucky pecked her lips, brushing away the wetness trailing her cheeks. "Sweetheart, you don't have to be alone, ever again."