Work Text:
Bucky usually doesn't open the TikToks that Becca sends him, but this one is accompanied by an incomprehensible message.
Becca: You're TikTok famous
Considering Bucky has never posted so much as a single TikTok, it piques his interest. He clicks the thumbnail.
A stunningly gorgeous black man in a gray quarter-zip so tight it should be illegal fills his view.
"So I have no idea who James Barnes is, but, James, if you're watching this, I just want you to know that I received a call today from the bookstore you applied to, asking me how long you worked under me at Panda Express."
Oh dear God.
Bucky has to hit pause for a moment to collect his thoughts and swallow down the wave of humiliation. He typed the wrong goddamn number on his references. Surely this isn't going to end well.
"I do not work at Panda Express, I do not know who you are, but you'd better believe I gave you the best reference I could have."
Bucky wants to melt into the floor. The video has over 100k likes, and a thousand comments. He clicks the comments against his own will, and Becca's username is pinned at the top.
@brooklynbecca: So I'm 99% sure this is my brother
@samthefalcon: Tell him to text me when he finds out. We know he has my number
God bless Becca for not tagging him. Bucky doesn't think his heart could take it.
Becca is grinning when she answers his FaceTime call.
"I told you, you're TikTok famous."
"You could have just ignored it, and I would have never known," Bucky points out.
"Maybe, or maybe it would cross your fyp and scare you, since your government name is in the damn video, James."
The camera goes blurry as she sets him on the tripod by her worktable.
"Thank you for not tagging me," Bucky says once the mild motion sickness has passed.
"Your mentions would have gone crazy, and I wasn't about to do that to you." Becca pulls a pencil out of her bun. "I want you to be careful, though. It's easy to find you through my links if someone is determined enough. You may want to start locking down your privacy."
"My privacy is locked down. I'm not you, Ms. Micro-Influencer."
Becca ignores the minor dig.
"So, are you going to text him?"
"What? No, of course not. I don't even know the guy."
"You admit it, then? You want to text him, but you don't know what to say?"
"Shut up, Becca."
...
If anyone asked, Bucky would absolutely deny spending hours looking into this Sam the Falcon person.
Luckily, no one asks, so he doesn't have to lie.
Bucky scrolls through his TikToks for ages, wrapped up in both how handsome and how kind Sam seems to be. His account is full of support for veterans left behind by the system alongside strategic thirst traps raising awareness for LGBTQ issues and thoughtful car rants about racism in America.
Bucky is more than a little bit in love.
He spends several days typing out and promptly deleting possible messages.
Bucky: So you said I should text you
Bucky: Thank you for giving me a good recommendation
Bucky: I really love your account your content is so thoughtful
Bucky: You look like you give good hugs
"You should just text him!" Becca shoves at his shoulder, worming her way under his blanket pile on her couch. "He literally asked you to."
"In a comment section on a video where the only reason he knows I exist is a typo," Bucky points out. "It doesn't mean anything."
"Oh please, you're practically in love with him already. He's handsome, he's single, he's in the city, and he's into men. What more could you want?"
"We have no reason to believe he would want me," Bucky finally says. "Why would he?"
"Um, because you're awesome? Obviously."
"You're partial." Bucky laughs without humor. "I'm partial."
"No amputee puns when I'm trying to be serious." Becca looks up at him with puppy eyes, and Bucky tries and fails to be irritated. "You're wonderful, and he'd be lucky to have you."
"I'm still not going to text him."
…
Then, nearly two weeks after the fateful TikTok, Bucky gets a call back from the bookstore.
Hey, this is Natasha at Lavender Books, is this James?"
"That’s me. I usually go by Bucky."
"Cool, I'll make a note on your file. He/him pronouns okay?"
"Yeah, and you?"
"She/they, thank you for asking." The quiet click of typing soothes Bucky's frazzled nerves. "I'm calling to invite you in for an interview. I'm sorry it took so long to get back to you."
"No problem, I know things are busy down there." Bucky celebrates silently. "I'm available whenever, my two weeks at the old place are up."
"Can you come in tomorrow at ten? I know it's last minute, but I had another potential candidate fall through."
"I'll be there."
…
“Great, you’ll start on Monday. You’ll get an email with your new hire paperwork.” Natasha stands to shake his hand. “It’s been wonderful. Enjoy your weekend!”
Out on the street, Bucky stares at his phone for a solid ten minutes before he hits send.
To Sam the Falcon: I got the job.
From Sam the Falcon: Is this James? That's awesome, dude!
To Sam the Falcon: I go by Bucky.
From Sam the Falcon: Bucky it is, then. I’m glad you got the job.