Work Text:
“What are you thinking about, Buck?”
“You’re one of my favourite people in this world.”
If there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that there are few things in life Bucky Barnes cares about. His family, Steve Rogers, and having a good time.
sailorfuckoff: hey gonna be ten minutes late
buckbeak: Shit I’m with Dot right now. See you tomorrow?
You should’ve seen the signs. No, fuck that—you saw the signs. You just didn’t care, not when he’d pull you impossibly closer as he kissed you, or the way he’d send you a sneaky smile as he’d catch you staring at him from the corner of his eye. Not even when he thumbed your chin and bumped your noses together, murmuring sweet nothings until you forgot why you were mad at him.
“Isn’t she your girlfriend?”
“It’s complicated.”
Three years ago, you would have thought of yourself as someone important in Bucky’s life. But those pretty words whispered in summer-sticky air against sweaty skin under tangled sheets… they’re just that. Pretty words. As meaningless as it was easy to get lost in those intoxicating eyes.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Okay.”
Just like that. No heartfelt pleas to stay, no fighting resistance or questions; nothing. And that’s what hurts the most—how is it possible he let you go without a second thought when he’s all you think about?
👋
Bucky is waving at you
buckbeak: Hiya!
buckbeak: You probably still hate me, and I deserve it, though it hurts me, anyways hope all is well
sailorfuckoff: i don’t know what kind of game you’re playing this time but i’m not interested
buckbeak: Hahahahshaahaha
Time is a funny thing. It can heal you or break you, it can pass you by in a blink of an eye or crawl at a painful snail’s pace. It can wear you down like a soul-sucking job, or spoil you the way a grandparent would their grandchildren.
For you, time was a test. You didn’t know you were racing against it until you lost, limping away with a sprained heart and a skinned ego. It left you bruised but not broken. And you’re okay with that, because time has left you with something much more valuable: wisdom.
Gaining wisdom is much easier than practicing it. You’re still trying to apply that little nugget into your life, but it’s not always easy. It’s been a year since you last saw Bucky, a year of busying yourself with work, friends and family, and hobbies, so that when your head hits the pillow you’re too exhausted to think about him.
Summer love songs pumping through the radio remind you of him. Fall sees you at work, making jokes and thinking Bucky would get a kick out of it. One winter night, tucked into the safety of your apartment from the violent snowstorm brewing through New York, you hope he’s safe and sound.
You can’t help it. There’s something potent about a first. There is no greater rush of excitement and anxiety that comes with experiencing something for the very first time. It’s what you compare any and all future loves against. But a lifetime could never soften the yearning in your chest of what wasn’t, what could have been.
You could have the best day, but you’ll still find yourself reaching for your phone, burning to tell him about it and maybe hear his voice to make the day just that little bit closer to perfect. But you don’t do it—and that’s what matters.
Spring brings gorgeous blossoms and comfortably warm days that you and your friend take full advantage of. Central Park is full of people with the same intention; picnics, bike rides, dancing on skates, and renting rowboats on the lake.
The water is a sparkling, murky green—a reflection of the lush trees sprawled around the edges soaking in the early morning sun and watching people paddling by. Birds chirp, flying over the lake and diving into the trees for shade.
A light breeze caresses your cheek as your boat glides along the water, the wood of the oars clunking against the metal rings on either side of the boat. You stretch your legs out and brace your hands on the bench either side of you, tilting your head back as you close your eyes. Your skin warms under the loving attention of the sun.
“Ah, this is tiring,” Rana says.
“Think of it as strengthening those flimsy arms of yours.”
“Fuck you.”
You peek from the corner of your eye to glimpse her smile.
Your friend’s tanned skin glistens as she rocks back and forth, rowing at a leisurely though clumsy pace. The Loeb Boathouse frames her, a modest building running alongside the lake, with bright yellow flowers flanking each column that hold up the roof of the veranda.
You sit forward. The bay you pushed off from not five minutes ago glides into view just a few feet away. “Are we going around in circles?”
Rana harrumphs. “It’s harder than it looks. I think my left arm is shorter than my right.”
You laugh and reach for the oars. “Gimme those.” You crank your arms, propelling away from the bay of boats. There are several other boats out, bobbing and gliding along.
You follow the trail around the large lake, marveling at the view of the park and pausing for photos.
You almost fall over the edge as you crash into another boat. You both burst out laughing. Turning in your seat, you throw the middle-aged couple a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry.”
The man laughs in good humour as the woman smiles kindly and says, “No harm done, love.”
“Enjoy the rest of your day,” Rana says as you steer the boat around them and continue along the river. “You’re about as useless as I was.” She takes over again, and you sit back.
As you rest your palms on the edge of the boat, you lull your head to the side. Your gaze snags on a familiar pair of eyes, eyes that crinkled in laughter at the dumb things you said, that hooded with pleasure, danced in pure enjoyment, and a whole storm of other emotions.
Fuck.
A brilliant smile lights his face, and his mouth curls with a soundless “Hey,” as he waves cheerfully, as if the last time you spoke he didn’t crush your heart into powder.
You turn your face away as your brows pull taut.
“What’s wrong?” Rana asks, a concerned edge to her voice as amusement fades from her face.
“He’s here,” you say on a shaky breath.
She whips around. “Who? Where?”
“Bucky.”
Despite yourself, you glance at him again.
He waves again. There’s a blonde woman seated opposite him, who looks over at you as well.
“Ohh…” Rana says, “he’s cute.”
“I want to go back.”
“What?”
“Please, I wanna go back to the park.”
“Okay.”
Sun Mar 10, 3:32 AM
buckbeak: Hey!
You snuggle into the warmth of your bed, hand prickling with the cold as you frown at your phone.
A year of no contact, and he’s messaged you like you didn’t spend months tangled in anxiety and heartache. There are so many things you want to say.
Why can’t you just leave me alone?
I miss you.
How many times have I crossed your mind?
buckbeak: Good seeing you today
buckbeak: How you been?
Ignore him. He’s just going to suck you back into his hole.
10:25 AM
sailorfuckoff: how are things?
buckbeak: Pretty great actually. Steve left and it made me realise how much I’ve been a spaz over the last few years. So ive just been trying to better myself really
sailorfuckoff: that’s great
buckbeak: Not really. It had to happen
buckbeak: I quit drinking and smoking and have some sorta routine in my life
1:04 PM
sailorfuckoff: are you really trying? cause i’m getting tired of your bullshit
buckbeak: I am. I’m not going to try and convince you but honesty and all that. Let’s see how that goes
sailorfuckoff: cool
buckbeak: You seem annoyed
sailorfuckoff: just reasonably skeptical
buckbeak: How are you? Still cool and nice and great, I bet
sailorfuckoff: busy
Fri Mar 15, 10:35 PM
buckbeak: Hey
sailorfuckoff: hi
buckbeak: What’s doin?
~&~
“Talk to him,” Rana says over dinner one night. She takes a puff of the hookah.
“I don’t know…” After everything you told her about Bucky, you can’t believe she’s encouraging you to do this. Then again, she is a hopeless romantic.
“If he reaches out to you every year, that must mean he has feelings for you too. He thinks about you and wants you back in his life.”
Or he’s lonely. His mother left when they were kids. It’s no excuse, but you understand why he’s emotionally unavailable and why he always fucks up his romantic relationships. And maybe he’s charming in that damaged way about him—maybe if you show him enough affection and kindness, you can save him, fix him, help him.
Thu Apr 4, 11:35 PM
sailorfuckoff: what’s doin
buckbeak: Playing guitar, you?
sailorfuckoff: just got home from dinner with a friend
buckbeak: Cool. How was it?
4:52 PM
sailorfuckoff: were you ever sober when we were hanging out?
buckbeak: Yeah. Why?
sailorfuckoff: just thinking about your behavior
buckbeak: I was a dick
~&~
“You still talking to Bucky?” Rana asks over tea.
“Yeah.” You stare down into the steaming mug. “We message about stupid things and joke around, like we used to.” You lift the mug with a shaky hand and put it down again. “Except, it feels a little different somehow… I can’t explain it. But I don’t know if I want to get sucked back into this again—it’s just too confusing.”
“Meet up with him.” She shrugs casually.
(And it is causal, for her. She will not have to live with the consequences of these actions. She doesn’t know how it feels to waste hours thinking herself sick about someone who is incapable of caring about her.)
“Go out for dinner and talk face-to-face. It’s the only way you’ll know for sure.”
(A part of you wanted her to tell you to stay away from him because a bigger part of you feels validated now. Because you’ve missed him, and if you’re being entirely honest, you’re a sick fuck who’s missed the heartache too.)
Sat Apr 20, 2:14 PM
👋
Bucky is waving at you
buckbeak: What’s doin
buckbeak: Come over
buckbeak: I’ll be honest
buckbeak: I’m drunk
buckbeak: But like it’s the first time in monthhhssss
buckbeak: I’m at this party and didn’t know anyone
buckbeak: And they were like
buckbeak: Have a drink
buckbeak: Relax
buckbeak: Hey come over
buckbeak: I watched this scary movie last night
buckbeak: Ithink you’ll like it
5:00 PM
sailorfuckoff: ask someone else
buckbeak: I will
~&~
“How are things with Bucky?” Rana asks. “Are you still talking? Have you guys met up yet?”
“Not yet. I'm not gonna be the one who initiates. If he wants to hang out, then he’ll have to ask me first.” Because then it’s not entirely on you, right? You have a little bit more self respect.
(Right?)
She laughs. “Then will you believe that he loves you?”
You shake your head with a disbelieving exhale. “He doesn’t love me.”
(Right?)
Sun Apr 28, 1:25 AM
buckbeak: What’s doin
sailorfuckoff: just got home
buckbeak: We should hang out
sailorfuckoff: sure when
buckbeak: Now?
buckbeak: Jks ummm what about nexy weekend?
sailorfuckoff: ok
buckbeak: Lies
sailorfuckoff: wut
buckbeak: Come to me
sailorfuckoff: i’ll meet you out for lunch or dinner but i’m not going to your place any time soon
buckbeak: Deal
10:52 AM
sailorfuckoff: cool
4:26 PM
buckbeak: Im ready for hangs
buckbeak: What are we gonna eat
sailorfuckoff: idk
buckbeak: We’ll figure it out
11:58 PM
buckbeak: Ay
buckbeak: Oi
buckbeak: Hang me oh hang me
buckbeak: Oscaar isaac
buckbeak: Listen to it
buckbeak: It is my life right now
sailorfuckoff: talk to me
buckbeak: About what
sailorfuckoff: whatever it is that’s got you so dramatic
buckbeak: Hahaha
buckbeak: Dude
buckbeak: I just hate my self
buckbeak: Not in a sad way
buckbeak: In a oh this is who i am way
sailorfuckoff: you need some milk
buckbeak: I don’t like milk
Wed May 1, 3:41 PM
sailorfuckoff: are we still hanging out
buckbeak: When?
sailorfuckoff: Friday or sat?
buckbeak: Could do Friday
sailorfuckoff: cool. after work?
buckbeak: Yeah
sailorfuckoff: hang out and dinner or just food?
buckbeak: Ummmmm lwts hang
Thu May 2, 8:12 PM
sailorfuckoff: i’ll be in Brooklyn tomorrow. Meet halfway between us?
Buckbeak: Ohhhhk could just hang out around New York
Fri May 3, 3:52 PM
sailorfuckoff: umm where we gonna meet
buckbeak: Fuck dude im in North Carolina
buckbeak: My grandpa died on wednesday
buckbeak: So, we will meet….in the gorgeous city of Charlotte
buckbeak: If you run
buckbeak: You will get here by august
sailorfuckoff: what the fuck is wrong with you
buckbeak: What you mean
buckbeak: So many things
sailorfuckoff: i’m done
buckbeak: I’ll be back on thursday i think
buckbeak: Whoa its not like i killed him geez
~&~
Your head is consumed in a stormy cloud of anger and hurt.
Why is he like this?
Why are you like this? Weak, stupid, vulnerable.
You saw this coming. Why did you go through with it? Why are you so disappointed that he’s let you down once again?
You’re never talking to him again.
He’s lost his chance.
It’s over.
~&~
You have so many questions and uncertainties. Just ask him; lay your cards on the table and be honest.
Then you’ll know. Once and for all, if he’s worth it.
(If you’re worth it.)
But you’re scared. Because you like him—you care about him—so much more than he’s capable of handling.
(And how is it possible that what you have is nothing when you feel this much?)
Mon May 27, 6:23 PM
sailorfuckoff: i feel like you only reach out to me when you have no one else to talk to. that i’m not even a blip in your radar until it’s convenient for you.
and maybe i’m wrong. maybe i’m making a bigger deal out of this than it actually is. maybe we’re just too different or we expect and want different things.
but that’s the point. i don’t know enough about you to be someone in your life.
when we talk it’s fun but makes things so much more confusing for me because i don’t know where i stand or what this is. i don’t know how you feel about or what you want from me. and i hold back because of that. maybe it’s mutual, or maybe it’s just me.
every time i think of you i feel anxious and confused, and it would be so easy to fix all of that if we were truthful with each other.
i was looking forward to seeing you, hoping that upon hearing your voice and seeing your face i’d know how i really feel once and for all. and when i found out you were in charlotte i was upset because it didn’t even occur to you to bother giving me the heads up you weren’t going to show up, to let me know what’s going on in your life.
it shouldn’t be this hard, and i can’t keep up with this toxic cycle of waiting around for you as you come and go as you wish. i deserve better.
i’m not doing this anymore. i want us to be brutually honest about where we stand with each other so we can either move forward from or end this.
so that’s me
buckbeak: I appreciate
buckbeak: I wasnt trying to fuck you around but i still did so that sucks
buckbeak: Really did have a funeral though
buckbeak: I didnt know you felt that way, im just trying to be friendly like i dunno what i want dude, im a fuck up anyways so like, single and hopefully becoming a half decent person is probs what i shpuld focus on.....still like talking to you though
buckbeak: But i also dont want you being anxious and confused
buckbeak: I appreciate your words, i like you, i do, im just still not good enough to try anything serious yet, i know this
sailorfuckoff: you’ll be fine
buckbeak: We’ll be fine?
sailorfuckoff: we’ll see
buckbeak: Yayerrr
Wed May 29, 3:15 PM
buckbeak: Whatcha up to?
sailorfuckoff: work
buckbeak: When we hanging out?
buckbeak: I wanna see that bright burn movie
buckbeak: You free next friyay?
Mon Jun 3, 9:41 AM
sailorfuckoff: i just scored 2 gold glass tickets
sailorfuckoff: so if friday’s still on it’s on me
2:16 PM
buckbeak: Look, i MAY have seen bright burn on saturday hahah
buckbeak: But, i will watch it again
buckbeak: Or we can see something else
Sun Jun 23, 7:41 PM
sailorfuckoff: 😂😂 no
buckbeak: Ok just checkin!
8:35 PM
sailorfuckoff: well fool me once right
10:27 PM
buckbeak: Go on…
11:36 PM
sailorfuckoff: what do you want me to say
Mon Jun 24, 12:23 AM
buckbeak: I dunno
buckbeak: Why you so annoyed
6:12 AM
buckbeak: Thats what i wanna knoe
buckbeak: I mean
buckbeak: I know
buckbeak: But its not like i lied to you
buckbeak: I was just like lets see something else
10:04 AM
sailorfuckoff: do you know though ? do you know how shitty it is when you invited me to something and then went without me? and didn’t even bother telling me. AGAIN
sailorfuckoff: i knew you were going to do something like this. but it didn’t make me feel any less disappointed or disrespected
10:55 AM
buckbeak: Sorry
buckbeak: Its why i was like lets see sometjing else
12:21 PM
sailorfuckoff: you don’t get it, or you don’t care. but that’s okay
~&~
There. You know.
It’s done.
Thank fuck.
~&~
You focus on your life. Rebuild into some semblance of yourself that you once respected.
You’re okay.
Sat Jul 27, 12:02 AM
buckbeak: Friendshippp?
3:51 PM
sailorfuckoff: friendshit
buckbeak: Haha yayyy
buckbeak: The only shit that doesnt sink
4:13 PM
sailorfuckoff: it’s worse, hurts the heart
buckbeak: Nawww
11:36 PM
sailorfuckoff: we should talk
Sun Jul 28, 12:14 AM
buckbeak: Ah man I just woke up
buckbeak: Tomorrow
sailorfuckoff: fine. central park
buckbeak: Nah come to mine
sailorfuckoff: Loeb Boathouse
~&~
You stare out at the frozen river. It’s a glossy, cloudy surface of grey and white. How crazy is it that it’s been four months since you last saw him? A four-month vicious cycle of giddiness, anxiety, hurt, laughter, tears, confusion, sadness, annoyance.
“Hey.”
You turn to Bucky smiling at you.
He approaches with arms out, boots crunching in the snow—though you don’t hear it for the drum solo in your chest.
Before he can touch you, you take a step back and hold out a numb but firm hand.
“No?” He drops his arms. “All right. How’ve you been?”
Always pleasant. Easygoing. As if he hadn’t stomped on your chest a million times over.
You cross your arms.
He shoves his hands into his winter jacket pockets. “So, uh… you wanted to talk?”
Your shoulders tense. “I wanted you to fight for me. I wanted to be on the list of things you care about.”
He frowns. “You are.”
“It didn’t feel like it.” So why do you keep going back to him?
(Because you’re so desperate for love and affection. You thrive on the attention he gives, and when he doesn’t, you obsess yourself sick with insecurity and anxiety.)
Bucky sighs, dropping his head back. “It’s hard. Life sucks.”
“There are also good things. You just have to try, to want to look for it.”
He lets out a weak chuckle. “You’re so naive.”
Fuck him.
You shake your head. You are.
“Maybe I am,” you whisper. “Have a nice life, Bucky.”
He sighs your name as you brush past him. “Wait.”
You clench your jaw and shove trembling hands into your pockets.
He’s the first person who has shown any interest in you. He has this power over you. And he knows it. He must.
He doesn’t respect you. And why would he? He treated you like crap; showed you how little he cares about anyone but himself. And every time he reaches out, you still go back to him.
You meet his eyes. Gone is that stupid charming smile. His face is pale and dilated blue eyes lifeless against the vibrant glow of the snow.
“I want the world for you,” you murmur, “I really do. I just… I don’t want to be in it anymore.”
He looks away.
“If you ever cared about me, even just a little bit, you’ll leave me alone.”
Your lungs burn as you struggle through the thick and unsturdy snow, but you know that one day, you’ll breathe easy again.