Chapter Text
Lucy narrowed her eyes at you skeptically. “And…he likes when you do that?”
You nodded assuredly. “Yeah, he goes crazy for it, actually. In my experience, most guys do,” you told her, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Huh. Okay, explain it to me again,” Lucy requested, picking up her pen again, poised to take more notes in the notebook she had.
“Alright, so you fold your tongue into a kind of taco shape and then you slide it around his--”
“Tacos? I could use some tacos right about now,” Bucky remarked as he strolled into the common area where you and Lucy were convened. Both of you jumped and scrambled to look natural, Lucy slamming her notebook shut and covering it with her arms, and you lying out on the couch in a decidedly unnatural pose.
“Heeeyyy, Buckaboo, what’s up?” You said in an overly casual tone. He paused as he opened the fridge, regarding you and Lucy with a quizzical look before ducking down to retrieve a beer.
“What are you guys up to?” he asked as he took a sip and walked over to you, an amused glint in his eyes as he spotted the notebook Lucy had. She held it tightly to her chest.
“Nothing, just, you know, girls being girls,” you said, swatting at him, hoping he would drop the subject.
Bucky squinted at you, and much to your chagrin, he turned his attention to Lucy. “Studying for something?” he pried further, nodding at the notebook. Bucky had an almost unnatural knack for spotting when something was out of the ordinary, and he usually stopped at nothing to figure it out. Whether it was because of his decades of spy training or because he was just so damn nosy, he always needed to know what was amiss.
“Mind your business, James,” Lucy said forcefully, glaring up at him.
“Oof, she used your government name. What’d you do this time, Buck?” Steve asked as he walked in, catching the tail end of the conversation.
Just as Steve was about to approach the couch, a mechanical whirring filled the room and in a dizzying flash, three of Nat’s widow bites launched themselves onto Steve’s person, sending hot electricity coursing through him and rendering him a convulsing heap on the ground.
“Geez, Bucky! I thought you got rid of all those traps weeks ago,” you exclaimed, joining Lucy as she rushed over to Steve. He seemed fine enough, despite his groaning and the fetal position he took on the ground. After the whole lake house hijinks, Steve had jokingly told you to sleep with one eye open. Unfortunately, his oldest friend had taken that threat a little too seriously, rigging different weapons to deploy around the compound if Steve came within a few feet of you. Out of all things, Bucky wasn’t very adept at catching hyperbole.
“I thought I got all of them,” Bucky said thoughtfully as he took another sip of beer. “Besides, it’s best to keep the punk on his toes. It’s the little ones you need to look out for.”
“I’m not little anymore,” Steve said through gritted teeth, peeling a widow bite off of his pec while Lucy got the other two.
“I was born first. You’ll always be the little one Stevie, don’t be fooled,” Bucky assured the other super-soldier with a smirk.
“Can you try not to kill my boyfriend, please?” Lucy said as she helped Steve back to his feet. “I’d like to keep him around for a bit longer.”
You could see Steve just about melt at being called Lucy’s ‘boyfriend’, looking down at her with a warmth he reserved only for her, placing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. Lucy smiled up at him shyly, as if she still couldn’t believe he would do something like that. It made you melt a bit, too, seeing your best friend so happy. You had never seen Lucy in a relationship before; you hadn’t known her long enough for that, and you had expected it to be a lustful tornado, something that matched the outspoken and unapologetic woman you had come to know and love, but it wasn’t that, not quite yet. The two blondes were crazy about each other, but they were taking things slow, wanting to savor every bit of the newness of their budding relationship, every first they had with each other. So when Lucy had come to you for advice about taking things to the next level with Steve, you were more than willing to share your expertise. That is, before Bucky unleashed his reign of terror.
“I’ll make sure not to break him too bad, Luc,” Bucky assured her with a wink, and she just rolled her eyes. “You ladies staying for a bit?”
“No, actually,” you said with a small pout, placing a light kiss on Bucky’s cheek. “We’ve got some drills to run through, and then there’s that get-together we promised we would go to.” Some of the other cadets had planned a party in the dorms, and you and Lucy were often ribbed for hanging out with the “A-squad” too much by your friends, so the two of you had assured the others you would be in attendance.
“Don’t have too much fun without us,” Steve said smirking down at his girlfriend.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Cap,” Lucy said, giving him a heated gaze and biting her lip.
“Okay you two, we need to go,” you said playfully, pulling Lucy towards the door. “I’ll make sure to bring her back in one piece. Two at most,” you told Steve, and he laughed.
With that, you and Lucy left, leaving Steve and Bucky alone in the common area. Steve poised himself to rip Bucky a new one for the widow bites, but he stopped short when he saw Bucky pull a notebook from behind his back, flipping through a few pages.
“Too bad they forgot this,” Bucky murmured, not sounding particularly sorry about it.
“What is that?” Steve asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Lucy’s notebook,” Bucky replied simply, flipping through some more pages. “They were acting weird about it, and I want to know why.”
“Buck, that’s a major violation of privacy, put it down,” Steve said, reaching for the book, but Bucky twisted away from him, flipping through it some more.
“Relax, old sport, it doesn’t look like anything compromising,” he said, frowning down at the pages. “It just looks like notes from training. Firearm safety…lab safety…disarming explosives…arming explosives. Huh, they were acting so secretive, I thought—oh. Oh,” Bucky said, his eyebrows raising.
Steve couldn’t help himself, despite the guilt that crept up his spine. He didn’t want to breach Lucy’s trust, but the look on his friend's face made him squirm. “What—what does it say?” he asked tentatively.
A slow grin spread over Bucky’s face and he looked up at Steve with a look that screamed trouble.
“Bucky, what does it say?” Steve asked again exasperatedly. He reached for the notebook and Bucky willingly handed it over, the shit-eating grin still on his face.
“Looks like you’re in for a treat real soon, pal,” was all the metal-armed assassin offered, and Steve just glared at him.
Steve scanned the open page, reading over Lucy’s neat cursive, and soon heat began to invade his entire body. His eyes roamed over the very colorful instructions she had transcribed, sweat beginning to bloom across his brow.
“This is very…detailed,” Steve remarked haltingly, feeling the need to tilt the notebook a little as if that would make it easier to digest.
Bucky laughed and took it back, closing it and setting it back on the table where it was left. He clapped Steve on the back. “This is a good thing, punk. She wants to spice things up a little, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Spice things up,” Steve repeated, his tone a mixture of confusion and intrigue.
“Yeah, I mean, no offense, but I always figured you were a bit vanilla in that department,” Bucky said, which was met by a glare. He raised his arms in surrender. “There’s nothing wrong with vanilla, vanilla is good! But sometimes a little kick is needed, ya know?” Bucky said, trying to reassure his friend.
“The thing is, there’s nothing to spice up,” Steve admitted, frowning down at his shoes.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we haven’t…you know,” Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding Bucky’s gaze. “Not yet.”
“Oooh,” Bucky nodded in understanding. “You haven’t been to Poundtown yet.”
Steve just looked at him.
“You know. The horizontal mambo.”
Nothing.
Bucky sighed. “Sex, Steven. You and Lucy haven’t had sex.”
Steve turned red again. “Right, yeah, no. We’re taking things slow, we agreed on that. I just didn’t think slow would come so soon.”
Bucky looked at Steve sympathetically. He knew how seriously Steve took these kinds of things, and he also knew how his friend could get lost in his head about them too. “Don’t worry about it, just talk to her. I’m sure she doesn’t want to speed things up too much. I mean, the only reason we even know she’s been thinking about this is because we stole her notebook.”
“You stole her notebook, you mean,” Steve said accusingly.
“Yeah, but you didn’t stop me, so you’re an accessory to the crime,” Bucky said smugly. He patted Steve on the back one last time. “Just talk to her about it,” he said over his shoulder as he left the room.
Steve sighed and looked at the offending notebook, its contents still reeling through his mind. Talk to her about it. Simple enough.
But since when did he have enough brain cells for taking the simple route?
______
Later that night, with too many thoughts still clambering around his noggin to focus on the book he was trying to read on his couch, Steve couldn’t shake how he was feeling. Bucky was right; Lucy hadn’t actually brought it up to him, but still, it was important enough for her to write it down, so how could he not obsess over it? To add insult to injury, Bucky’s “vanilla” comment was ringing loud and clear in his mind. Was he really too plain?
Lucy was anything but plain. She was vibrant and smart, and damn beautiful, and even though she didn’t have any experience with the horizontal mambo, she knew all the steps based on what was in that notebook. Steve wasn’t so sure he could live up to that.
“Captain,” Friday’s bright voice chimed, and Steve almost fell off of his couch from being pulled from his thoughts. “Cadet Truelove is on her way to your suite now.”
Steve’s heart sped up, and he had the passing thought that maybe he had the ability to conjure up his girlfriend with just his mind. Or maybe she could sense when he was thinking about her. Either way, Steve busied himself with straightening out the knicks and knacks on his coffee table and smoothing down his already impeccable hair. A soft knock sounded at his door, and he took a deep breath before opening it as casually as he could.
He was greeted by Lucy’s sly smile, but his eyes traveled down to the little black dress she was wearing, one that showed just enough but not nearly enough at the same time. Whatever greeting he had planned was lodged in his throat, and his heart was drumming for entirely different reasons now.
"Cat got your tongue, Cap?” she asked, not missing the way his eyes drank in her figure.
Steve swallowed hard. “Something like that,” he managed to say, dragging his gaze up to hers. “Didn’t you have that party to go to?”
Lucy shrugged. “Yeah, I did, but halfway there I realized I would rather be spending time with you. I didn’t bother changing though, I hope you don’t mind,” she said, a hint of suggestion in her voice. When Steve offered no reply, she shifted nervously, her expression turning sheepish. “I mean, I hope I’m not actually interrupting something--”
“No! Never, sweetheart, come in,” he said, stepping aside and letting her further into the suite. He couldn’t help but smile at the faint blush on her cheeks at the pet name he used for her. At first, she had made fun of it, but eventually, she folded and admitted she liked being his sweetheart.
“I was thinking we could just curl up and watch a movie or something? I’ll even let you pick out an old-timey one,” she said, wrapping her arms around his middle and looking up at him sweetly.
He rolled his eyes playfully and let his fingers glide through her hair. “I’ve got Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer, too.”
“Oooh, now you’re speaking my language,” Lucy said excitedly, lifting up on her toes and giving him a light kiss on his lips.
The two of them made their way to the couch, ice cream in hand, and they settled down to Casablanca, an old-timey film that Steve couldn’t believe Lucy hadn’t seen.
“This is probably one of the greatest films ever made, how have you never watched it?” he asked incredulously as it started.
“Uh, because I wasn’t born before sliced bread was invented,” Lucy quipped back as she spooned some Hunka-Hulka Burnin’ Fudge into her mouth and settled back into his lap.
“Haha, so funny,” Steve deadpanned, leaving a pinch on her side that tickled more than it hurt, and she yelped gleefully at the contact.
For a while, they went on peacefully, Steve interjecting at some points to explain something about the movie, and Lucy holding back as many old man jokes as she could. It was comfortable, like an old sweater, and the worries that had plagued the super-soldier before seemed to melt away. Until Lucy groaned at a text message she got.
“Seriously,” she murmured as she typed furiously in response.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice low and authoritative, his eyebrows knitted together.
Lucy glanced up at him and laughed a little, placing her thumb over the worry lines on his forehead and gently smoothing them away. “At ease, soldier. It’s just Y/N. She and Bucky have taken claim to our room tonight, so I’ll be couch surfing, ugh.”
“Can’t they just use Bucky’s suite?” Steve asked, and she snorted.
“I don’t know, apparently there’s something inherently sexy about doing it in the dorms, something about breaking the rules, and sneaking around,” she sighed, rolling her eyes and typing out a few more things on her phone. “I’ll just go over to Miranda’s room, her roommate is pretty chill about me hanging out on the couch.”
“Or you could stay here,” Steve offered before his brain could fully process what his vocal cords were doing.
Lucy looked up at him in surprise, her own eyebrows raised and her lips slightly parted. Steve blanched and silently cursed himself. He knew, and she knew, what his offer implied, and all of the anxiety from before came crashing back down on him. The air was thickened by their silence, and Steve swore he could hear the gears turning in her head.
“Could I?” she asked, barely above a whisper. He didn’t miss the way her eyes landed on his lips before they met his again.
“Y-yeah, yes,” Steve stammered out, trying to keep as cool as possible. “If you want. I can take the couch.”
Lucy searched his face for a moment, a slow smile warming up her features. “Don’t be silly. We’re both adults, I think we can manage sharing a bed for one night…right?” Her tone was flirtatious and confident, but just under its surface was a slight tension of uncertainty, and Steve wondered if maybe the same worries that plagued him were plaguing her as well. It was strangely reassuring, and he could feel himself unwinding a bit.
“Right,” he said in agreement, and before he could doubt himself, he leaned forward and kissed her, slow and fervid, like a promise of what was certainly to come. When they pulled away from each other, he felt a rare surge of confidence at the way he left her breathless and slightly disheveled, biting her lip and gazing at him through her lashes.
“I think I’m ready for bed,” Lucy said, unable to hide the lust in her voice.
“Tired?” Steve asked with a smirk.
“Not one bit,” she answered, and the heat in her eyes made Steve’s stomach do flips.
They made their way to his room after that, and with each step the anticipation became an almost tangible thing in the air, dancing and teasing around the pair of them. Lucy decided to take a shower, and Steve lent her one of his shirts to sleep in, though he figured she wouldn’t need it for too long. He sat on his bed waiting for her, leaning back against the headboard and twiddling his thumbs, trying his best to gas himself up.
You can do this Rogers, don’t be a punk. You’re not vanilla, you’re a casanova! Captain-freaking-America! The star-spangled man with a plan and an ass that won’t quit!
Soon, Lucy emerged from his bathroom, freshly clean with his t-shirt draping loosely around her frame, the hem of it just barely covering her thighs. She paused at the foot of his bed, her heart hammering against her ribcage as she took in Steve’s impressive figure, clad in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. He looked back at her with one of his annoyingly charming grins, the one that looked innocent and boyish but would leave just about anyone weak in the knees. She suddenly had no clue what to do, her feet rooted in place, nerves invading her like the Chitaurian army in NYC.
“I don’t bite, I promise,” he said lightly after a moment, catching her nervous energy.
She grinned back at him, his words setting her free from her paralysis, walking over to his side of the bed. “Well, that’s kind of disappointing to hear,” she purred, and he offered her a small chuckle that quickly caught in his throat as she climbed onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed against him until their noses were touching, her eyes dark and inviting.
“You smell good,” Steve noted huskily, his breath tickling her cheek, alighting all her nerve endings.
“I just used your soap,” Lucy said, raising one of her eyebrows.
“Well, it smells better on you,” he insisted, his voice a deep timbre, heavy with want.
Not one to dance around this any longer, Lucy surged forward, claiming his lips against hers, and pouring every ounce of her own want into the way her mouth moved with his. Her heart was still racing, and part of her mind was still grappling with the fact that this was really happening. When Lucy had gone to you for advice, she hadn’t expected things with Steve to move along this quickly. She had just wanted to be prepared, to make sure that when the time came, she would be able to impress the man she was falling so hard for. At first, she had been terrified; deep down, the idea of actually sharing her body with someone else had always freaked her out to an extent, but with Steve she felt safe. She felt like she was at home in his arms, and she was more than ready to take this leap with him.
They became a tangle of lips and tongues and limbs, and Steve maneuvered them further onto the mattress with a deftness that left her breathlessly impressed. She sank back against the sheets as he gently shifted his weight on top of her, trailing kisses along her jawline and down her neck. His hand traveled down her side to the hem of his shirt, stalling there for a moment.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his words fanning over her collar bone.
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes closing and her toes curling.
He resumed his ministrations, his lips traveling to her exposed shoulder, his hand dipping under his shirt and making its way up her torso. Lucy felt like she was on fire, like she was going to combust any second, like she would die if he continued touching her like this and die if he dared to stop. She reached her hands around him, her fingers dragging along the broad expanse of his back, reveling in the feel of his taut muscles under her touch.
“Oh, Steve,” she breathed out, those two syllables expressing her every desire and yearning.
Everything stopped then. Just stopped. She felt Steve’s body go rigid, a rush of cool air wafting over her as he pulled away. Her eyes blinked open and she was met with his face over hers, his eyebrows knitted together, his mouth set in a hard line. He stared down at her for a moment, his eyes volleying between both of hers, his blue eyes stormy and clouded with something she couldn’t place.
“We should go to sleep,” he said finally, and it took Lucy a moment for her brain to register what he said.
“What?”
“We should go to sleep,” he repeated, removing himself completely from her and settling on his back beside her, both of them looking up at the ceiling. “We both have an early start tomorrow,” he continued, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince her. “You have training in the morning, and Tony has had this team meeting on the calendar for a while. We should get a good night’s rest.”
Lucy blinked a few times, her mind still clouded with the rush of euphoria that came to an abrupt end. She felt his head turn towards her and she did the same. His expression was neutral, but there was something behind his eyes, almost like he was pleading with her. She nodded slowly.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, we should sleep,” she said, her voice wavering a bit.
The wrinkle between his brows softened a bit and he turned his head back toward the ceiling. “Yeah,” he echoed softly. They stayed that way for a bit, letting everything that was swirling around them settle back to earth.
“Friday, please turn out the lights,” Steve whispered after a while.
“Yes, sir,” the A.I. happily obliged.
And that was the end of that.