Chapter Text
Steve woke up and immediately a wave of panic washed over him.
Today was the day: his first Senior Grand Prix event, Skate America. He was comforted by the fact that his first assignment was in front of a home crowd. Rostelecom was going to be another story. Steve rubbed the sleep from his eyes and opened his phone. He had three texts from Nat.
6:30 am: “Hey, Rogers are you awake yet?”
7:00 am: “You better not have stayed up all night stressing and slept in”
“I saw how anxious you were at the practice yesterday but you’re going to be fine”
7:10: “I’m coming to wake you up stupid. (eye roll emoji)”
Before Steve could say “Oh shit” there was a loud banging at the door to his hotel room followed by Natasha shouting “ Rogers, if you’re not at this door within 30 seconds I will break open this door and dump a bucket of ice water on you! You know I’m not lying. You remember what I did at Nationals last year...”
Steve jumped out of bed and practically flew to the door.
“Ah. So you were asleep,” Natasha said, eyeing Steve’s wrinkled pajamas. “Go throw on some clothes. We’re getting you breakfast.”
Steve shut the door and began digging through his suitcase
Underwear…. sweat pants…. t-shirt…. hoodie…. where the fuck are his socks?
After what felt like an eternity of searching Steve managed to throw something on.
“Come on, Sam is waiting for us in the hotel restaurant,” Nat said when Steve finally emerged
“Thanks for coming to get me,” Steve said sleepily, following the redhead down the hallway.
“No problem,” Natasha responded without looking back at him
Nat was a few years older than him and originally from Russia, She competed with Sam in pairs for the United States. They all trained at the famous Avenger rinks in New York City under Nick Fury. In the past year or so, Sam and Nat had become Steve’s closest friends.
“By the way, Rogers, Your socks don’t match”
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“Representing the United States of America: STEVE ROGERS”
Even out on the ice, the cheers were almost deafening. Steve’s knees felt a bit weak as the announcer ran through the names of the skaters.
Before Steve knew it the six-minute warm-up had begun.
Steve skated to the boards and looked beside him.
It couldn’t be… “Bucky?”
The man standing on the ice next to him was incredibly familiar, just a bit older and with longer hair.
Year’s worth of memories flashed before Steve’s eyes.
The skater didn’t react for a moment before realizing Steve was staring at him. A look of confusion came across his delicate face.
“Who’s Bucky?”