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He could feel his smile sliding into a horrified grimace and quickly tried to hide it by taking another drink of his beer. At this rate, he was going to be wasted before the starter even arrived. Across the table from him, a man who had described himself as a ‘compact but cute’ nerd who worked in ‘an exciting field’ of information gathering, with a ‘sexy eastern European accent’ was failing to deliver on any of those points. Bucky hadn’t exactly had high expectations from the date – but he’d at least expected Armin to have told the truth on something. Admittedly, he did have an eastern European accent. Bucky had to give him that.
“I think you are a remarkable specimen.” He said, leering at Bucky as he played with the napkin he’d delicately folded over his lap. Bucky was starting to worry that he’d done that because he had his dick out under it. “I would very much like to see more of you,” He smiled. “Later.”
It was the fifth time he’d said ‘later’ in that tone, the one that had Bucky’s smile slipping off his face and into a painful grimace, in the past 15 minutes. God, the waiter hadn’t even been back to ask if they were ready to order yet, and Bucky was already considering the old ‘out of the bathroom window’ trick. It was better than ‘the steak knife to the throat’ which might still be an option if Armin didn’t stop trying to play footsie with him.
He should have known that online dating was a bad idea – he should have known that after a few emails and no picture that Armin was… well… not what Bucky was looking for. But he’d paid the membership fee and Armin was the first person who’d wanted to get to know him better at all – he figured that his profile picture wasn’t the best, an old grainy shot from a few years back when he was still deployed. Not exactly looking his best – and not exactly looking like he did now. Although he did mention in his profile that he’d lost an arm.
Looking back, he should have known that Armin was way more interested in that than he was in Bucky – his eyes kept trailing over the empty space of his sleeve and Bucky was pretty sure he was into it. Like… in to it, in to it. Like what he really wanted to fuck was an amputee, rather than a person.
Stabbing himself with a steak knife totally seemed like a good option, as the small man tried once again to run his foot up the inside of Bucky’s calf – causing him to jerk back and hit his knee off the table.
“Oh, I like you.” Armin smiled, looking more like a lizard than a person. “Shy little thing, aren’t you?”
Bucky grabbed his beer, trying not to look like he was casing out the exits. Surely no-one actually did this shit anymore? Who the fuck tried to play footsie on a first date? Probably the same guy who described himself as ‘compact and cute’ rather than ‘under 5 foot and lizard faced’ which was cruel but at least it was fucking accurate.
“I’m not shy.” He managed, throat scratchy. “I’m just not sure-”
“Are you ready to order?” The waiter said, a red-headed woman in a neat black pant suit and crisp white shirt appearing like an apparition. Bucky franticly tried to send her telepathic messages that the date was bombing, he needed an extraction.
“I’ll have the oysters,” Armin smiled, “With the asparagus. We’re going to have some fun later.”
Bucky was sure he whimpered, pretty sure he winced – knew for a fact he looked panicked. “Um, I’ll have the garlic and onion pate.” He said. Hoping that she picked up on the ‘oh god, please help’ vibes he was throwing out.
“Of course.” She said, smiling professionally. “Would you like another drink?”
“Another beer.” Bucky said, instantly, desperately.
“I’ll be right back with that, sir.” She smiled. “One beer, table for Barnes.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He said, slumping back into his seat. He wasn’t going to be rescued by her – he wasn’t going to be rescued by anyone – he was actually going to have to resort to stabbing himself with the blunt butter knife by the bread rolls.
When she walked away, but not heading towards the bar for the beer Bucky seriously needed, Armin smiled at him in a way that Bucky thought might have meant to be sexy, but mostly made him look like a baby with gas, and purred: “In France, garlic is said to increase ones virility.” When Bucky was completely unable to repress the shudder than ran through his body at that, the smaller man winked. “I see you are already excited for our little… sexual experiments.”
Bucky had never wanted to walk out on a date in the whole of his life. He thought it was the height of bad manners and was un-necessarily hurtful to the other person – but if this was what the rest of the night was going to be like, he was better to cut his losses and just go.
“Barnes?” Someone said, a deep masculine voice with a hint of authority – the kind of voice Bucky had been trained for years to snap to attention at – said, cutting over his internal panic over leaving. His head snapped up and he found himself looking at what could probably only be described as ‘200lbs of pure American beefcake’, blond hair and blue eyes and a jaw that looked like it could crack rocks.
“Yessir?” He said, out of habit – not even processing his response before the words were past his lips.
“Captain Steve Rogers,” The man said, shifting into a parade stance. “Could you come with me, soldier?”
Bucky sure as hell didn’t need to be told twice, getting to his feet double time. Armin looked like he wanted to say something, anything, but the blond man just nodded at him. “As you were, citizen.” Before turning on his heel and walking smartly away.
It wasn’t until Bucky was following him that he realised that he didn’t actually have to follow orders anymore – he had been honourably discharged and Captain or not – Steve Rogers didn’t actually have any authority over him at all. However – it was getting him away from the worst date of his life, so Bucky wasn’t going to argue – at least until he got out of earshot of Armin.
The blond Captain had taken him deeper into the restaurant, far enough away that Bucky could no longer see Zola, and pointed to a table tucked into a little booth, private and secluded. “I’m sitting here.” He said, sliding into his chair. “Sorry about the interruption but Natasha said you were ‘begging with your eyes’ and I had to get you out of there.”
“Natasha?”
“Uh, she’s the waitress? Red hair?”
Bucky sat down in the chair opposite Steve and let out a sight. “Oh thank god, I thought I was gonna be stuck all night.” He said, sinking into the seat as far as he could. There was no way that Armin would be able to see them from where they were hidden, and the bathrooms were on the other side of the room, so unless the little lizard decided to start up a man hunt, Steve had just saved him from a whole night of torture.
“Why didn’t you just leave?” The captain asked, taking a drink from the glass of water that was sitting on the table. Bucky noticed that the table was set for two, but it looked like Steve had been sitting there for some time – the bread rolls were gone, and the side plate had a few crumbs on it. Was he waiting for someone?
“Didn’t want to be rude.” He managed, after a few moments. It sounded like a shit reason, really, but it was true. “I’ve never run out on a date before, I didn’t wanna be that jerk, you know?” He admits. “Just leaving a guy sitting there feeling like shit.”
Steve suddenly looks a little uncomfortable, but smiles at him anyway. “That’s pretty nice of you considering.”
“One beer for you,” A female voice said, seeming to appear from nowhere, two menu’s tucked under her arm, placing a cold glass of beer in front of Bucky. “Are you ready to order yet, Steve, or are you going to wait a little longer?”
“Um,” Steve said, looking over Bucky’s shoulder quickly and then nodding. “Yeah, okay. I don’t think he’s showing.”
The red-headed waitress nodded like she was pleased with this answer, and handed them both menus. When Bucky gave her a slightly confused look, she managed to look contrite and smug at the same time. “I’m sorry, sir, but a mix up with the kitchen means that your original choice wasn’t completed, would you like to re-order?”
“Uh,” Bucky started, then looked at Steve who was obviously trying not to be mortified with the way things were going, and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll have the langoustines.” He said, not bothering to look at the menu. He’d checked it out online before he’d arrived and had been pretty keen to try those, until he’d met his date and needed to order the smelliest kiss repellent on the menu. Steve waited another few moments after Bucky had taken a sip and then handed his menu back.
“The scallops?” He said, looking a little out of his depth.
“Of course.” The waitress nodded, taking the menu from him. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can with those,” She said, but before she stepped away, she leaned in and smirked. “I think this’ll work out better for both of you.” And then she was gone, leaving Bucky blinking in her wake.
“I know her.” Steve said, looking slightly uncomfortable, “She got me the reservations, sometimes she… can be a little overwhelming.”
Bucky just nodded, and took a sip of his beer. It was expensive, but it wasn’t something he couldn’t afford – turns out that his baby sister was something of an investment whiz kid and had been keeping an eye on his pay checks. When he’d been discharged with a medal or two pinned to his chest and no idea how to go about adjusting to civilian life, she’d sat him down and told him just how much he was worth. Of course, once he’d bought his apartment – a really nice place with open spaces and high ceilings and a million miles away from both the cramped, damp place his mom tried to keep warm in the winter, and the oppressive heat of tents shared with 10 other guys in the middle of a desert. Which made him wonder…
“How did you know I was a soldier?” He asked, leaning back. “I mean… I could have been in a crash or something.” He knew his arm was pretty obvious – it wasn’t the kind of thing a person could overlook, really.
“Oh, I just guessed.” Steve said, looking sheepish. “Uh, Natasha told me your name was Barnes and I thought you had a kind of… military look about you.” He smiled a little, which made him look younger than Bucky expected. “I figured if you wanted to stay with your date you’d just tell me to get lost.”
“Oh god,” Bucky laughed, “You could have told me you were my damn dentist and I’d totally have followed you to the ends of the earth to get away from that guy.” He managed. “You really a Captain?”
Steve nodded, “Yeah, actually.” He shrugged, “Well, I was – I’m out now. Nearly died a couple of times, figured they’d cut me loose before I actually did. I guess we never really got introduced.” He held out his hand. “Steve Rogers, Captain, retired.”
Bucky took his hand, liking the feel of how warm it was – but slightly calloused like Steve worked with his hands, manual labour.
“James Barnes, although only my CO ever called me James – Bucky Barnes to the rest. Sergeant in the 107th. Retired. Currently trying to figure out what I wanna do now I’m out.”
“Don’t look at me!” Steve said, holding up his hands. “I’ve been out for about three weeks and mostly I’m watching ‘Cake Boss’ and trying to get used to my mattress.”
Bucky grinned. “I’ve got a hint for that.” He said, taking another drink. “Get one of those orthopaedic ones.”
“Yeah?” Steve said, leaning forward.
“Man, I’m telling you, my physio suggested it, total life saver. It’s firmer than a regular ‘firm’ mattress, and once you get used to it, you can buy these topper things,” He explained, as another waiter brought over their plates, sliding them on the table and murmuring ‘enjoy’ as they stepped away unobtrusively. “I got this memory foam thing, it’s amazing.” He explained, as they started to eat. “Still got that firmness, but like… it hugs the body. Man, I love mine.”
“I gotta look into that.” Steve said, around a mouthful. “I just can’t get a decent night sleep – end up going for a run at 4am.”
Bucky grinned as he ate. “I hear ya,” He agreed. “I got a gym set up in my spare room, I think I clocked like, 400 miles my first month home.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” Steve said, looking relived. “I was worried about mentioning it at my sessions, you know, in case they decided I was losing it or something.”
“Oh god, you’ve no idea what I didn’t tell mine.” Bucky grinned, taking another drink. “After a while you just kinda think that it’s normal to wake up at 3am and puke your guts up.”
Bucky wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, but one moment he was eating his way through a starter and a beer and the next he was lingering over a coffee he couldn’t remember ordering, desert plates cleared and sitting to one side as the lighting was slowly lifted. Around them, the restaurant was empty of patrons, and the staff were industriously cleaning tables.
“Okay, boys.” The redhead from earlier said, walking up to them. “I think it’s time you head off. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”
Bucky couldn’t believe it. Surely they hadn’t been talking for that long? Fuck, he didn’t even remember the food – which was supposed to be amazing, because he’d been concentrating too much on Steve. They’d swapped war stories and wounds, found out they’d lived only a few blocks from each other growing up, but that Steve had fallen under a different school catchment, so they’d missed one another throughout their lives. They’d even trained at the same camp, although a few years apart – and were deployed overseas at the same time. It just didn’t make sense that they’d never met.
Steve looked as floored by the apparent amount of time that had passed too – he looked at the waitress (Natasha, his friend) and then around the room before checking his watch. Bucky didn’t understand why the fact he was wearing a watch was kinda cute. Most of the people he knew just used their phones.
“Oh, ah, right.” He said, looking a little sheepish. “Sorry Nat, I didn’t realise the time.”
Bucky reached for his wallet, only to have her shake her head. “It’s on the house.” She said, looking at Steve pointedly. “Clint said I was allowed to brake every bone in your hand if you tried to pay.”
“I’m sorry,” Steve said again, looking around the empty restaurant. “I didn’t realise the time.”
Bucky shrugged, looking over his shoulder and grinning when he turned back to face Steve. “I’m pretty sure my date isn’t gonna be hanging around outside.” He said, “So I really outta thank you.” He paused, not sure if he was reading the signs all wrong. “How about I buy you a drink to say thanks?”
For a moment he thought Steve was going to say yes. For a moment he honestly thought that they’d been on the same page – but Steve blinked and then smiled ruefully. “I would love to,” He smiled, and Bucky knew that there was a ‘but’ coming a mile away. “But I’ve actually gotta get myself to the VA pretty early.”
Bucky nodded, feeling a little stupid because he knew that he should have been aware that guys who looked like Steve Rogers didn’t go for drinks with one armed messed up veterans. He’d obviously been waiting for someone when he’d rescued Bucky from Armin Zola – Bucky’s mind filled in the blanks, imagining a tall muscular guy with a tan and two arms, maybe a little older, more refined. The stuff Bucky wasn’t, despite his money.
So he smiled and nodded and didn’t try to linger too long over the goodbye – just grinned and waved when they left. He certainly didn’t turn around until he was far enough away to make it look natural, and saw Steve had only just started walking in the other direction. Had he been waiting for Bucky to turn around?
Bucky shook his head. He probably had checked his phone or something, and Bucky needed to stop thinking about it.
Two weeks passed. Bucky had almost forgotten about Steve (at least until he saw a tall blond guy in a crowd and found himself straining to check if it was the Captain) when he walked into the bar with a group of people from his old unit, in New York on leave and making the most of Bucky’s new apartment and knowledge of the area.
Steve was sitting in a booth, with a plate of onion rings in the middle, and two pints of tap beer. He looked a little like he was getting his teeth pulled than enjoying himself though – but it wasn’t up to Bucky to judge. The guy he was with was just like Bucky had imagined – tall, muscular, two arms and a little grey at the temples. He was smiling easily, leaning back in the booth and looking pleased with himself and everything around him. Steve… didn’t.
“You know that guy?” Gabe asked, as they pushed their way towards the bar. It was pretty crowded, and Bucky wasn’t super keen on large groups of people anymore, but with his friends around him it wasn’t so bad.
“Who?” He asked, leading the way. There was a table at the back that looked like it would be big enough for them, and far enough away from all the action that Bucky wouldn’t feel quite so exposed.
“The blond dude?” Gabe said, talking directly into his ear. “When he saw you he looked like he was gonna cry with relief.”
“He really did.” Monty said, looking over his shoulder at where Steve was sitting, back to them. “Looks military – do we know him?”
“Don’t think so,” Bucky said, shoulders sagging with relief that the table was empty despite the bar being crowded. “He’s retired. Steve Rogers? Captain.”
“I know him.” Duggan said, as they settled down. “Didn’t they call him Captain America? Did a couple of crazy stunts that nearly killed him, I heard.” He looked at Bucky. “How’d you meet him?”
“He saved me from a bad date.” Bucky mumbled, but obviously not low enough as they all responded with a howl of laughter – which was how they got their nickname – the Howling Commandoes – back on the front.
“That’s pathetic.” Gabe snorted. “You needed saving, huh?”
“I’m telling you,” Bucky said, trying to defend himself. “They guy was a fucking pervert, man – kept checking out my arm and touching himself.”
The guys made gagging sounds around him, and Bucky laughed. They’d known he was gay way before the whole ‘Don’t Ask’ repeal, and had never treated him any different – Jim even offering to set him up with one of his many cousins – and didn’t think anything of ripping into him for his desperate dating life.
“You should return the favour.” Jacques said, nodding his head in the direction of where Steve was sitting. “Guy looks like he wants the place to burn down around him.”
“Yeah?” Bucky said, trying to see through the mass of people, and only catching a glimpse of the back of Steve’s head.
“Yes.” All five of them said at once.
Bucky nodded, squaring his shoulders and looking through the crowd. He was either going to fuck this up royally or return the favour in saving Steve from a pretty shitty date.
“Go get him, tiger!” Dugan said, resulting in another howl of laughter from his friends.
“yeah yeah.” Bucky said, moving out with a tactical precision. He had a slight moment of panic when he had no idea what he was actually going to say when he reached Steve, mind going through a million different things. Did he fake an emergency? Maybe that would get Steve to leave his date, but if he was actually enjoying himself it would be a pretty shit thing to do. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a lot of ground to cover before he was standing in front of the table that Steve and his date were sitting, and he decided to just wing it.
“Captain!” He said, going for cheerful and slightly drunk. He figured it was easier to brush off a drunken friend than anything else and if Steve was having a good time he could tell Bucky to fuck off. “Stevie!”
If Bucky had any doubts about Steve not exactly being thrilled with his date, he needn’t have worried. As soon as Steve saw Bucky he was on his feet, all smiles, wrapping an arm around him in an open, friendly hug.
“Sergeant Barnes!” He said, when he let go. “It’s a small world, I haven’t seen you in years.” Steve said, straining the last words out, a message Bucky didn’t need his high school diploma to work it out.
“Tell me about it, Cap!” Bucky said, not really having to fake his grin. “Me and the boys are here, and I thought, that’s our old Captain and you gotta come over, man!” He said, hugging Steve again, just for the hell of it. He sure did like the way Steve kept him close, arm around his shoulder and warmth seeping through his shirt, heating Bucky up like he really was as drunk as he was pretending.
“You’re interrupting a date.” The guy sitting opposite Steve said, not looking happy at all for the interruption. He was scowling at Bucky like he’d like very much to wipe him off the face of the earth, and Bucky shot him the most shit eating grin he could manage.
“Aww, sorry man!” He said, not unwinding his arm from around Steve’s waist, “You won’t mind if I borrow him for a bit, do you?” He asked, not really waiting for a response. “I’ve got the boys back here, Cap, we owe you a couple of drinks – payback for all those times you saved our asses, yeah?”
“I’ll not be long.” Steve told the scowling guy. Not half as attractive as Steve deserved, Bucky thought, too old – didn’t look like he smiled much. “My old unit, you understand.” He didn’t wait for the other guy to respond, just tightened his grip on Buckys shoulder and turned them both to the back where Bucky was sitting. “Be right back!”
The thing was – Steve didn’t actually know the Howling Commandoes personally. He did, however, know of their reputation. “You should have told me you were in this unit!” Steve enthused, three beers down and his arm still slung over Buckys shoulder – like he wasn’t bothered by the empty space where an arm should be. “You must have met Phillips – Colonel Phillips?”
The groan from around the table made both Steve and Bucky laugh together, and Bucky wondered if it was weird that they were still standing with their arms around one another – but he wasn’t getting funny looks from his friends, in fact, they were acting like they would expect nothing different. It was weird, not getting the raised eyebrows and knowing glances thrown in his direction – last time they’d met a guy Bucky had liked, they’d been horribly obvious, waggling eyebrows and pretty obscene gestures. It was like they hadn’t even noticed that Steve was standing with his arm slug over Bucky’s shoulders like it belonged there.
“We know him alright.” Jim said, knocking back another shot. Bucky wasn’t quite sure where the shots had come from, but the table was littered with tiny empty glasses and half-drunk pints of golden beer. “Miserable bastard.”
“Here’s to Phillips,” Steve said, raising his glass with the arm that wasn’t slung over Bucky’s shoulder. “May he never have to put up with the likes of us again.”
“To Phillips!” They cheered, and Bucky grinned as Steve squeezed him a little tighter. He didn’t have to fake drunk any more – half a dozen shots and a couple of beers meant that he knew he’d be swaying if Steve wasn’t holding him upright.
“Steve?” A voice said, cutting over their cheering – and Bucky could feel Steve tense up instantly. Unlike Bucky’s date, who obviously realised that he’d been stood up at some point, Steve’s date hadn’t taken the hint. The fact that Steve had been drinking with the commandoes for a good hour should have been sign enough, but nope – there he was, taller than Bucky had expected and looking pretty pissed off.
“Uh, Brock.” Steve said, not smiling quite as wide as he had been. “This is, uh, my old unit.”
“Yeah – we’re his old unit.” Dugan said, obnoxiously.
“And who might you be?” Monty cut in, looking the guy, Brock, up and down disdainfully. No-one did disdainful like Monty, Bucky thought, it was like the man had a super power of making other people feel like something you scraped off the bottom of your shoe.
“Brock Rumlow.” The guy said, not looking happy at all, eyeing Bucky (and Steve’s arm around his shoulder) like he’d quite like to haul him off and beat the shit out of him. “Your boy here interrupted our date.” He said, teeth grinding together. “Steve?” He said, glaring. “Come on, we’re going somewhere else.”
“Why don’t we take a raincheck?” Steve said, still smiling, but not quite so brightly as Bucky liked. “Another time, maybe?”
Brock looked at Steve incredulously – looked like he was about to open his mouth before Gabe suddenly clicked his fingers together excitedly.
“Rumlow? Brock Rumlow?” He said, eyes dancing dangerously. “I know you.”
“No you don’t.” The taller man snapped.
“Yeah, yeah I do.” Gabe said – nodding. “Didn’t they call you Crossbones?”
Bucky felt that information seep through the intoxicated group like a wave. “Crossbones?” He said dumbly. That couldn’t be right – that guy was probably still rotting in prison, surely? The same guy that double crossed his unit – he’d been gotten half his unit killed and the other half captured just for some personal agenda of some asshole senator.
“No, that can’t be right.” Steve said, sounding just as confused as Bucky felt. “You told me you were in construction.”
Brock glared at them all, before he spat out a “Fuck you.” And walked away.
“You guys are the most hopeless fucking idiots on the planet.” Jim said, before pissing himself laughing. “Buck ends up dating some fetish pervert and you end up dating a fucking traitor.” He snorted. “Man, where do you find these people?”
Bucky was drunk. He’d passed by ‘merry’ a few hours ago and was now right in the ‘drunk as a lord’ territory. He wasn’t the only one – Steve was swaying on his feet pretty badly too, Jim was passed out on the floor of Bucky’s living room, and Gabe and Monty were crashed on the couch. Dugan was hugging the toilet bowl and hadn’t moved for a half an hour.
After the bar, they’d gone to Bucky’s apartment, because Buck kept a well-stocked selection of booze for when the boys got leave (and for those nights he just couldn’t sleep because of the nightmares) and Steve had obviously gone with them. Bucky wasn’t sure why he’d have done anything else.
“They look like kids when they sleep.” Steve said, voice slightly slurred. He still had his arm around Bucky, and he wasn’t sure if he’d removed it at any point in the night.
“Asshole kids.” Bucky amended, and Steve snorted with laughter. Bucky grinned back. He liked making Steve smile, liked the way it made him look younger and happier and less like he had the world resting on his broad shoulders. “You should crash here.” Bucky told him, looking up at the taller man and grinning back. “So Crossbones doesn’t hunt you down.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t work out who he was,” Steve said, looking momentarily stricken before smiling broadly. “Are you hitting on me?” He asked, swaying on his feet.
“Yeah.” Bucky nodded. “You mad?”
Steve shook his head. “Nope.” He said, popping the ‘p’ with a grin. “I wanted to hit on you, but I thought you might not like me to.”
“Why wouldn’t I want that?” Bucky said. Thinking hurt, and he was pretty sure Steve wasn’t making a lot of sense.
“I’m a mess.” Steve said, waving a hand over his torso. “I drink too much an’ I get stupid sometimes an’ I get into fights.”
Bucky nodded slowly. Too fast and he might puke up all over Steve and the cream coloured carpeting his sister had insisted on. “That’s okay.” He said. “I get moody an I only got one arm an’ I don’ like the taste of spunk.”
“I wanna take you to bed.”
“I wanna go.”
“Okay.”
They didn’t have sex. Bucky knew that was only because they’d both puked up their guts the moment they hit the bathroom – Steve managed to get to the toilet, but Bucky ended up leaning in the bath. Slightly more sober but certainly not feeling like they wanted to jump one another – they’d climbed into Bucky’s overlarge bed in their jeans and shirts, with basins on each side of the bed just in case they got sick in the night.
It’s the smell of bacon that finally made Bucky move. Steve, fully dressed and face first on the mattress, drooling on the pillow and looking good enough to eat, didn’t move when Bucky crawled off the bed in the most ungraceful stumble of his life. The basin on his side was empty, but Steve’s had what looked like yellow water and Bucky picked it up as he went through the bathroom attached to his bedroom. There was puke in the shower and the place fucking stank bad enough to make his stomach roll violently, but a quick spray with the shower and liberal applications of the spray bleach cleaned it up enough for him to get in the shower.
Steve was awake when Bucky walks back through, a towel around his hips and a full on headache – the smell of cooked food no longer doing it for him. Steve was standing in the middle of the bedroom, looking a little lost and unsure, and when he saw Bucky his shoulders sagged with relief. “Morning.” He said, voice hoarse.
“Take a shower.” Bucky advised, nodding behind him. “You might feel less like death, and I’m sure I’ve got something you can wear.”
“Thanks,” Steve mumbled, looking equal parts mortified and hungover.
Half an hour later, with Steve wearing his own jeans and a t-shirt that belonged to Bucky which was way to fucking tight (Bucky’s mouth had gone dry for reasons completely unconnected to his hang-over) they made their way through to the kitchen.
Jim and Monty were eating plates stacked high with bacon and pancakes, and Bucky let out a groan at the smell, which had wrapped around his heart like a vice. “I think I might love you, Jim.” He said, almost shoving Steve out of the way to get to the plate.
“Shut up.” Dugan groaned, from somewhere on the floor. “I’m gonna die if I don’t work out how to use this fucking contraption you call a coffee machine.”
Steve swiped a pancake and stuffed into his mouth as he walked around the island where the food was laid out, standing in front of the coffee machine and working it like a pro. Soon, the smell of fresh coffee filled the room, and Gabe finally appeared.
“I think someone puked up all over the bathroom floor.” He pointed out. “I’m not cleaning up that shit for anyone.”
“That might have been me.” Gabe said, coffee mug in his hands like he was holding the holy grail. “I’ll get it once I’m not dying.”
Bucky leaned against the counter as Steve passed him a mug of coffee, standing on his left, their shoulders touching. He smelt of Bucky’s shampoo and body wash, bacon and pancakes, and Bucky kinda wanted to kiss him senseless.
They spent the day crashed out in the living room watching Netflix and eating take-out, and not once did Bucky think it was weird that Steve was there. He didn’t question that the blond man was squashed up beside him on the couch, arm slung around his shoulder like that was where it belonged, and passing him the crispy pork like it was an everyday thing. Bucky didn’t even know that he wanted something like that to be an everyday thing, until the idea of Steve not being there was... unsettling.
The guys too – after not knowing Steve at all – just seemed to forget that Steve wasn’t one of their close nit group – in fact when Monty was regaling them with tales of his failed courtship of some girl in one of the towns they’d blown through and turned to Steve and asked “Do you remember the look on her face?” Before remembering that Steve wasn’t actually there.
Bucky was standing in the kitchen wondering if he should bother trying to keep the leftovers or just throw them out when Steve wandered into the room looking a little sheepish.
“Hey,” He said, rubbing his neck, “I um, just wanted to say, uh...” He trailed off, looking lost.
“Do you think it’s worth it to keep half a spring roll and three spoonfuls of kung po?” Bucky asked, when it looked like Steve had actually just stopped talking for good. “I mean... it’s not really enough on its own, but if you put it all together it might do for lunch, I guess.”
“If you keep the rice and the little tub thing of noodles that would be okay.” Steve said after a few seconds. “I think I should probably go back to my place.”
Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. He knew what he wanted to say: Stay, stay here and sit on my couch and put your arm around my shoulder like it belongs there – but he knew he shouldn’t say that, because he’d really only met Steve once before and he knew he was over-reacting. What he did say was:
“Dugan driving you up the wall already, huh?”
Steve grinned sheepishly and shook his head. “It’s just... I’m maybe being weird?”
“Weird?” Bucky said, scraping the scraps into the trash and putting aside the small amount of leftovers in a plastic tuperwear box. “Weird like how?”
“Weird like... I don’t really wanna leave and I think it’s a bit... weird... that I just wanna stay here. Indefinitely.”
Bucky didn’t pause what he was doing, just shrugged. “It’s a little weird.” He agreed. “But then, it was a little weird that it took me like, half an hour to remember that you haven’t met my sister, or that you don’t actually have spare clothes here. So... there is that.” He looked up at Steve and smiled. “I don’t really want you to leave.”
“I think I’d better.” Steve said after they spent far too long just looking at one another.
“Okay.” Bucky nodded. “I get that.”
“Where’d Steve go?” Jim asked, when Bucky went back through to the living room, hands full of cold beers. “If he’s going to the bodega, get him to pick me up some smokes, I’m on my last one.”
“He went back to his place.” Bucky said, handing over the beers and settling back down o the couch. He didn’t like the feeling that something was missing – that the space Steve had claimed felt empty. Felt strange without Steve’s arm thrown casually over his shoulder.
“Huh?” Gabe said, looking up from his phone. “What do you mean, he went back to his place?”
Bucky shrugged, and took a swing of his beer. “He doesn’t live here.” He reminded them, before picking up the remote. “He wanted to go home.”
“Did you fuck up?” Monty asked, looking confused. “I thought you guys were like...”
“Soulmates.” Jacques said, clutching his beer and looking at Bucky with over-exaggerated heart eyes. “Lovers.”
“Sickeningly cute.” Jim added.
“Domestic.” Dugan chimed in.
“He went back to his place.” Bucky snapped, not really in the mood for his friends to take the piss when he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about things himself. “He probably just got sick of you fuckers.”
“He loved us.” Monty said, grabbing the remote out of Buckys hand. “Asshole.”
“Dick features.” Bucky shot back, and tried not to breathe a sigh of relief when they all just let the matter drop.
Two hours later, Bucky was listening to Jim, Jacques and Monty argue over what to watch next, when a knock on the door caught his attention. “Did you order more food?” Gabe asked, “Cause you really should order more food, I’m starving.”
“Shut it,” Bucky said, hauling himself to his feet. Although his hangover was pretty much gone, he still wasn’t feeling like dealing with a door to door salesman when he could be lounging on his couch and watching bad tv with his buddies.
But when he opened the door, it wasn’t a salesman.
“Hey.” Steve said, looking probably even more sheepish than he looked when he told Bucky he was going to go home.
“Hey.” Bucky said back, not really wanting to look too hard at the emotions swelling in his chest. He was just to fucking happy to see Steve standing at his front door.
“So I have these really bad dreams, and I panic over loud noises and I get into fights I shouldn’t and I really, really like you.” He said, keeping his eyes fixed on Bucky. “And I went home and you weren’t there and it wasn’t awesome, so I figured...” He shrugged. “I just want sit and watch TV with you and pretend like I’m casual about putting my arm around you, and try to make your friends like me. If that’s okay with you.” He added.
Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, which was:
“I want you to laugh at my stupid stories and help me tidy the kitchen and I want my friends to like you, and I wanna wake you up in the middle of the night because I can’t sleep and I really want you to hog the covers and bitch about how you don’t snore.”
And that was exactly what he said.
Two months later, Bucky was looking at the Stark Tech prosthetic with a wary eye. It wasn’t like any of the previous prosthetic limbs that they’d tried to make him wear before – this was a sleek metal thing that made him look a little Robocop or something, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. That wasn’t the point of the thing though. The whole point was that it moved. It moved like a real fucking arm, he could pick things up and throw a ball and crack open an egg just like he could with his real arm.
Steve watched him carefully as Stark himself walked Bucky through the care and maintenance, a solid and dependable wall of comfort as Bucky tried not to panic.
“Do you like it?” Steve asked, when Stark walked away to grab something from the other side of the room.
“I look like a robot.” He said, looking down at his arms.
“You don’t have to wear it.” Steve pointed out.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t cool.” He argued back. “How’d you feel about living with a robot?”
“Just about the same as I would living with a jerk like you.” Steve grinned.
“Punk.” Bucky shot back, ready to tell Stark that he’d give his new invention a go.