Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You can’t go in!” Steve heard through the closed office door. “Director Fury is in a meeting!”

There was the sound of wheels across the ground—a desk chair being pushed back away from the desk, he pegged. But he didn’t think any more on it because someone else was speaking, his voice getting closer and closer.

“I don’t give a good goddamn if he’s in the middle of having kinky, wall-banging sex with all seven of Snow White’s dwarfs.” The knob turned and the door swung open on his next words. “I am damn well going to speak with him.” The man’s eyes swept the room, his gray gaze furious. He was beautiful with it. The fire reminded Steve of how he’d been back when he was smaller: ready and willing to take on the whole world.

“Fury,” the man growled, eyes latching onto the Director. “I have worked for SHIELD for more than fourteen years. I am the most senior custodian on this godforsaken flying hunk of ugly metal. The next person who comes close to me has only been here for six years. I have more vacation days saved up than every other custodian combined. I’m loyal. I do not talk about what I see or what I hear or what I know. I do my job every day. I wipe up finger smears of shit, ass cheese—”

Everyone in the room but Fury blanched.

“—snot and other bodily fluids I don’t care to think about that have been smeared against bathroom stall walls by grown-ass fucking adults like they’re five instead of forty. I ignore the laughter and the comments sneered my way, the trash dropped on the floor literally two feet from a trash can while they stare me dead in the eye, and every other mess your agents leave behind out of laziness or spite. The only write-ups in my file are because I refuse to wear a weapon because I am a custodian.”

“Yes. About that, Barnes,” Fury butted in when the beautiful brunette man blew out a breath like a pissed-off bull. “It’s about time for that talk again.” He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands in front of him to rest on his stomach. “Everyone who works for SHIELD, regardless of position, is required to carry a gun and know how to use it.” His words sounded like he’d said them so many times that they were a formality at this point. His face said he knew Barnes wouldn’t listen or care. But he still went through the motions. “We, as a part of SHIELD, have an obligation to protect it. Everyone needs to be ready, should the need arise, to defend the base.”

“Is that in my contract?” Barnes demanded suddenly. “That I have to do that? Protect the base from damage and threats? Inside and out?”

“Yes.”

Barnes’s eyes snapped to Tony. “A.I.,” he called out.

Tony’s phone spoke up before anyone could utter a word. “Yes?”

“Rumor has it that you hacked SHIELD right before the aliens attacked.”

“That is correct,” Jarvis said through the cell phone’s speaker. Most of the other Avengers snickered at Fury’s usual scowl whenever that incident was brought up.

“Can you confirm that that is, in fact, written into my specific contract, the one that I signed when I was hired? James B. Barnes. You’ll be able to find it if you search for ‘Bucky.’”

“I can confirm that your contract states that, as an employee of SHIELD, you must carry a weapon on you or have immediate access to one at all times while on base.”

“What’s the exact wording?”

Jarvis rambled off something that Steve couldn’t quite make sense of. But it made Bucky smile.

“Perfect.” He turned back to Fury. “My updated family background check: My two lawyer grandparents are now judges. As is my father. My lawyer mother will probably be a judge within the next few years. All of my four siblings, now, are lawyers. As are three of my cousins and two of my uncles. My oldest nephew and niece are currently law students and at least two more look to be headed that way. As you said, my contract clearly states…” Bucky trailed off, a shark’s grin on his face.

Unexpectedly, he darted his arm forward, quick as a striking snake, and expertly unsnapped and pulled Steve’s gun from his side holster. Then he turned around and left.

Steve was up and following him in an instant while Fury yelled Bucky’s name. There was a mad scramble behind them as everyone did their best to get up and follow them out the door. But they and their rolling chairs all got in everyone’s way.

“You won’t stop me, Captain,” Bucky said through a scowl and gritted teeth. He kept taking long, swift strides down various hallways.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Something told Steve that, whatever was about to happen, whoever-it-was greatly deserved what was coming to them.

Within two minutes, they came up to a hallway bathroom. Inside, Steve heard mean laughter.

“Your turn, Rumlow.”

Steve identified multiple voices that belonged to the STRIKE team. They were joking and laughing. And, when he followed Bucky around the short wall separating the communal men’s bathroom and the doorway leading out to the hall, what he saw made him angry.

Rumlow stood in a stance that told Steve he was pissing. As if the sound and stench wasn’t a dead giveaway. But, instead of standing in front of one of the urinals or in a stall using a toilet, he was aiming for a stretch of empty wall. There was already a sizable puddle of piss stretched along the floor that told him that quite a few of the others had already had a turn. There were drips and trails of urine running down the wall from the corner all the way to the divider at the urinal, which had also been peed on.

Off to the side was a bucket, cleaning supplies, and a neatly folded, wet rag, like Bucky had been in the middle of cleaning when they’d come in.

“Hey, Rumlow,” Steve barked.

It had Rumlow turning in surprise, accidentally peeing on Rollins, who jerked back in surprise and disgust.

Not another word was spoken, though, because right after Rumlow turned, Bucky shot all seven STRIKE members in the arm.

It all happened within a span of about nine seconds and Steve had to say he was impressed. It had been extremely quick and each shot had been perfect. Even with them moving, the bullets had been placed so exactly that everyone had identical holes, not even a centimeter difference in placing.

“Wow. You are one hell of a shot,” he said admiringly to Bucky.

Bucky flicked the safety on the gun and lowered it to point at the floor. “I was the black sheep of the family. I grew up learning lawyer speak. But I knew I didn’t want that for the rest of my life. Went into the army instead. Walked away with this nifty fucking metal arm,” sarcasm dripping off his words, “and an aversion to carrying a gun.” He looked back to the STRIKE members. “An aversion. Not an inability.”

Fury strode into the bathroom with a scowl on his face and took in the scene, the shouting and whining from STRIKE and Steve and Bucky standing there talking easily. All of the Avengers filed in after him to see.

Bucky calmly handed back Steve’s gun then turned to Fury. “I successfully stopped an attack on the base,” he said calmly. “As you can see, these men were in the process of using chemical warfare on SHIELD infrastructure. I’m sorry I resisted carrying a weapon on my person in the past like it says to in my contract. I have been unable to prevent them from attacking the base or its inhabitants previously. Thank you for giving me the green light to do so now.” He then turned to Rumlow, still with his dick hanging out, and to the rest of STRIKE. “And thank you for providing the desire and the opportunity to stand up for my job. I feel very satisfied.” Then he strolled out, shoulders relaxed, a small, pleased smile on his face.

“Huh,” Natasha commented into the deafening silence following his words. “No wonder you’re always posturing and so full of manly man-ness. Tiny Dick Syndrome.”

The other Avengers started snickering and Tony began to add his own comments and jokes. Fury started barking orders for Rumlow zip up his damn fly to cover his baby dick and for everyone to report to medical with no bitching and without getting blood anywhere on his base. He might’ve also said something about them being suspended without pay while this and other incidents alluded to were investigated, but Steve didn’t care. He pushed his way out.

Looking around, he just barely caught a glimpse of Bucky disappearing around the corner at the far end of the hall. Steve jogged to catch up. “Bucky, was it?” he asked once he had.

The man narrowed his eyes. Then he straightened his back. His muscles tensed minutely. “That’s right, Captain.”

“My name’s Steve.” Steve smiled at him a bit. He hoped he wasn’t about to get punched for his next words. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in going on a date with me.”

Bucky stopped in his tracks and swiveled to stare incredulously at him. “I’m a custodian. I clean up shit for a living.”

Steve shrugged. “And I’m Captain America. I beat the shit out of bad guys for a living.”

“I deal with assholes every day,” Bucky said, gesturing back the way they’d come.

Steve smirked. “I’m pretty sure I deal with the same assholes. And, between you and me, I’m betting they think twice about messing with you again.” He tilted his head in thought. “I’m not going to say I think you turned them from messing with anyone ever again, but I can guarantee they’ll be hurting for quite some time. And, if Fury goes through with what he said is going to happen, I think he’s fixing to prolong their pain. So,” he said with another slight smile, doing his best to be charming, “date?”

“How do you know I even like men? Maybe I’m the straightest straight guy to ever straight and I’m just waiting for you to dig yourself a deep hole so I feel justified in punching you in the face.”

Steve couldn’t help but give a slight grimace. “That would be unfortunate. I very much dislike homophobic assholes. I would have a hard time refraining from punching you right back. But, even if you don’t like men, I have a feeling you’re not like that. You’ve put up with asshole agents like Rumlow for fourteen years. I’m willing to bet you’d just turn me down, at most telling me to stay away from you, and then go on with your day.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “I do like men. But maybe I don’t like you.”

Steve pulled a face that had Bucky chuckling softly. “That would be even more unfortunate. Because, from everything I’ve seen? I think you’re one hell of a guy. And I’d really like to take you out, get to know you. Somewhere on the ground,” he said after a moment. “Not here on the base. Feel like you need a day away now that you’ve successfully managed to relieve a little bit of on-the-job stress.”

“Barnes,” Fury barked as he strode around the corner. “You’ve got the week off starting now. Paid vacation. Plus a bonus for—how did you put it? Defending SHIELD from a chemical attack? Well, the bonus is for not ‘defending’ it before now. Oh. And you are no longer required to carry a gun or weapon on your person. That will be permanently written in your file.”

Bucky gave a shark’s grin that had more than a hint of smugness in it as he saluted Fury with his left arm—his metal one. “Pretty sure I am a weapon, boss.” Then he turned to walk away. “Meet me in two hours on deck forty-two, Steve,” he called over his shoulder. “We’ll finish our conversation and see where we end up.”

Chapter Text

Now that Fury was dead and Bucky’s boyfriend was accused—wrongly, in his opinion—of killing the man, Bucky and his fellow custodians had the misfortune to be put under the purview of Alexander Pierce. And Pierce had called a meeting in D.C.

Someone had let it slip that the meeting was to take place directly after a meeting with the World Security Council, which was weird. But Bucky didn’t argue much with the higher-ups.

That was a lie. He was, if nothing else, known for his prickly attitude and arguing with superiors. So, arguing with the man who'd called his boyfriend a traitor and sent him on the run, making it so Bucky hadn’t heard from him in days? That would in no way be out of the ordinary for him.

With every intention of showing up early to the meeting Pierce had called and doing just that, Bucky arrived at the Triskelion with more than enough time. He figured he’d go down to the cafeteria and get himself something to eat.

The food there was actually pretty decent considering it was a government building. And, best of all, with the fact that he was there on business, that he worked for SHIELD and wasn’t just a visitor, the food was so cheap it was practically free. Or, well, not free. But it was cheap. The prices for a peon of SHIELD were cheaper than most other places to eat in the city. It didn’t even matter that Bucky no longer worked in this building but on the Helicarrier.

So, he got his food, set himself up at a little out of the way table, and proceeded to eat and people watch.

He was twenty minutes in and nearly done with his food when the PA crackled to life. A familiar voice started speaking and he was chilled to the bone.

*****

Didn’t it just figure. Didn’t it just fucking figure. Bucky got out of the service because he’d started to wonder if the missions he was being sent on were on the up and up. And he’d managed to get himself signed up to HYDRA without knowing it.

It made sense—because hindsight was always twenty-twenty—that the STRIKE assholes were actual bad guys, not just really shitty people. Normal people with decent morals didn’t do the shit that they routinely pulled whenever they were on the Helicarrier. So, it made sense that they were all evil HYDRA bad guys.

He snuck down hallways that hardly anyone knew about because they had never needed behind-the-scenes access to clean for the building without their equipment being lugged around out in the open—thank you two years of working in the Triskelion before he’d been transferred. Even though it had been years ago, Bucky still remembered the way.

He snuck into the armory.

Another huge plus to being a custodian was the fact that he had keys. A lot of them. Over the years, he’d accumulated all sorts of keys for all sorts of things. And, once he didn’t need them anymore, he’d still kept them. Because he never knew when someone would be sick and he would be asked to fill in for them for a few days. It had happened a few times over the years.

Opening the armory was as easy as entering the custodial override password, inserting and turning the correct six keys in the correct sequence, before entering the second override password.

Once he was in and the door was shut and locked behind him, Bucky got to work. As quickly as he could—which was pretty fucking quickly because he used to do this every day—he shucked his clothes and climbed into the only agent uniform that fit.

He didn’t quite know why someone would choose to look like they were ready to shoot some hardcore bondage porn while they went out and shot people, but to each his own.

Glancing in a mirror as he walked past to load up on guns told him exactly why someone would choose to dress this way. He looked hot as fuck. Steve had better appreciate the hell out of him if they ran into each other. Bucky deserved it. His shoulders, waist, ass, and thighs looked phenomenal in the outfit.

He got back to business. It took two minutes tops to grab everything he needed. And even more that he probably didn’t need. But he’d always been one overprepare. He also took a moment to take the top armor back off and cut the left sleeve off. The thing was catching on the seams of the metal plates that made up his arm and causing it to begin to heat up. It had to go before he lost functionality.

When he stepped out of the armory, when the door was closed again, he came face to face with someone he didn’t know. Thinking quick, Bucky asked, “What’s the password?”

The man smirked like an ugly snake. “Hail HYDRA.” He sounded so fucking smug and sure of himself.

Bucky sliced his femoral artery with a knife from the sheath at his hip then blocked the man from pulling his gun with his metal arm. “Hail HYDRA, asshole,” he echoed mockingly as the man fell to the floor. “Motherfucking Nazi.” With a shake of his head, he headed for the large equipment elevator that pretty much no agent knew about and only custodians and maintenance workers used. It would get him to where he needed to go.

Except, unfortunately, it didn’t. It didn’t take him to the roof, like he’d tentatively planned. Apparently, an emergency protocol had been triggered for the building. All elevators were set to head to the ground floor and stay there. Damn the luck.

The stairs it was.

Bucky had originally planned to head up, figuring his sniper skills would be best served on the roof. But he ran into a lot of HYDRA goons on his way. And they were all headed down.

“What’s going on?” he asked a small group of them.

They looked at him suspiciously but took in his outfit—and apparently respected the hell out of him because of it—because they treated him deferentially, telling him that everyone was to head to the tarmac and prevent Captain America and his group from getting onto the Helicarriers.

Taking advantage of the power he seemed to hold over them, he demanded one of their communication devices, saying his got broken.

The youngest one pulled a com unit out of his ear and handed it over with an awed look and a nervously shaking hand. Bucky thanked them then silently took them all down, unfair though it might’ve been because they thought he was one of them.

When he was the last one standing, he booked it down to the tarmac. If HYDRA had orders to stop Steve, then Steve was going to need all the help he could get.

*****

Things were worse off than Bucky had feared. His idiot boyfriend was going up against so many people and he only appeared to have one person as support. Taking a stance, Bucky started firing. Switching his targets between long distance and short, Bucky went after the ones who were the biggest threats.

Steve didn’t notice he was there until Bucky sent a bullet right over his shoulder to stop someone from launching a grenade his boyfriend’s way. With a look of dawning horror, Steve froze, taking in Bucky’s outfit. “No,” he said. Bucky could tell, see the way his mouth formed the word, even though he was too far away for Bucky to hear.

While he was stationary and utterly distracted, a HYDRA fuck decided to take advantage. She lined up a kill shot.

“Down!”

The move seemed to be automatic, Steve doing as Bucky yelled, even as horror apparently filled him. Bucky couldn’t worry about that just yet, though. Using his sight, he took the shot.

Before anything else could happen, Bucky ran over to his boyfriend. “What the fuck, Steve? You couldn’t have given me a heads up?” he chastised as he held out his hand to pull him up, looking all around.

“Buck.” It was more of a strangled sound than a name that came out of Steve’s throat. “Please tell me you’re not with them.”

“Fuck, no!” Bucky gestured to his bondage outfit. “This just happened to be the only armor that fit. You plan to walk into the middle of a war zone, Steve, you better fucking dress for it. I’m not wearing khakis and a button-up to fight an evil Nazi army. Not if I have any say in it.”

“God, I love you,” Steve murmured before taking Bucky into his arms.

“Well, that’s just great to hear,” Bucky said. It was only half sincere, though, because he spotted someone else lining up a shot. Bucky shot him first, even with Steve wrapped around him. “Did I mention the war part, though? Cause we’re kinda in one. Probably should be paying attention.” He shot another dude.

“Are you kidding me right now, Steve?” Bucky heard faintly through Steve’s com, which was all but pressed to his own ear.

Steve sighed, letting go.

“You need to get up there, right?” Bucky asked, gesturing to the Helicarrier.

Steve nodded and a determined look crossed his face. Looking up, he said, “Sam, I’m going to need a ride.”

“Forget it.” Bucky tossed away his HYDRA com. It wouldn’t help him now.

Steve looked over in question.

“You’ve already got a ride,” he told him. Then he ran for the helicopter, Captain America following close behind.

*****

Steve was in one Helicarrier, his second one, and his friend, Sam, was on top of the third. Bucky was using the weapons system on the ridiculously souped-up helicopter to shoot at HYDRA-controlled jets flying around.

Suddenly, he saw Sam being flung off his Helicarrier, one of his wings missing as he spun nearly out of control. He also saw one of the HYDRA jets line up to take him out with a rain of bullets. Bucky hit the throttle and swung sideways letting his helicopter’s side take the impact. It wouldn’t be good for him, he was sure, but Steve’s friend would make it. Probably. Provided he survived his landing.

Bucky was right about the move being bad for him. Alerts all over the dash lit up, warning him that his helicopter was toast.

Making a decision born of desperation, Bucky intentionally crashed into the domed base of the second Helicarrier. He bailed at the last second, diving one way while the helicopter rolled the other in a burning ball of shrieking metal.

“Bucky, no! What are you doing here?”

Steve’s panicked voice had him spinning with his gun trained and ready. Steve stood with his shield in hand, his helmet gone, facing nearly the entire STRIKE team.

He was about to take them all out for Steve—and maybe a little bit for himself after all the shit this group put him through over the years—but the Helicarrier shuddered and began to get bombarded with missiles. Bucky was knocked off his feet.

The only saving grace was that more than half of the STRIKE team landed on the ground, as well.

Bucky didn’t bother getting up. He just unslung his rifle and took aim. He had half of them dead in seconds. But he couldn’t get everyone because the others moved around too much, now fighting Steve. Dropping the rifle, Bucky advanced, a hand gun in his right hand and a knife in his left. Getting drawn into the fight, it wasn’t long before he was back-to-back with Steve.

“Who gave the janitor a gun?” Rumlow sneered wickedly. “Shouldn’t you be off somewhere cleaning up shit?”

“You poop on the floor again, Brock? You know, I keep meaning to put in an order for some doggy accident pads.” And, just as he’d figured, saying that in that tone—or maybe using the man’s first name—had the effect he’d been aiming for. Dude got pissed.

People who let their emotions rule their fighting, Bucky knew, grew sloppy. With a few quick slices with his knife, Bucky had him on the ground, bleeding out.

He was about to turn to another, still-standing opponent, leaving the asshole to lie there and die, but Rumlow suddenly raised his gun and fired.

It happened so quickly that, for a split second, Bucky braced himself and waited to feel the impact of the bullets. But a different kind of pain speared his heart as he realized that, instead of aiming at him, Rumlow had shot Steve three times. He had really crappy aim and hit Steve in the leg, the shoulder, and the gut in turn. For that, Bucky shot him between the eyes.

It was another couple of minutes before the rest of STRIKE went down and didn’t get back up. Steve and Bucky were the only two left standing on a burning sky ship headed for the ground. Bucky breathed hard and Steve had his arm curled gently over his abdomen, a pained grimace on his face.

“Steve, we have to get you—”

Something large fell from somewhere above, hitting the glass and steel dome. The floor beneath Steve shattered and he went plummeting.

“Steve!” Bucky didn’t even think. He just ran over to the gaping hole in the ground and dove after him.

*****

Things moved in slow motion. They took hours and happened in a second.

Bucky frantically swam down, searching the Potomac for the one thing he wanted most, for the man he loved most in the world. His eyes stung; he could barely see with how dirty the water was. Yet, the only two things running through his head were pure panic and a single sentence. I never told him I love him.

He finally grabbed a hold of something. He managed to grab just the slightest bit of hair. It took him more seconds to get a better hold and tug closer before he could switch his grip to Steve’s suit.

His lungs burned and, had he been dry, he was pretty sure he would have been crying. Hell, maybe he was but each tear was washed away by the river.

It seemed to take years to get back to the surface. It took so long, Bucky started to doubt that he was heading in the right direction. But that was the panic. The light he swam towards told him otherwise.

Dragging Steve up onto dry ground, Bucky ran through all the first aid he knew from his time in the army. Steve wasn’t breathing so he did everything that he could remember to do for someone who’d drowned.

He prayed to any god that would listen that his boyfriend would be alright. He’d survived drowning and freezing in the arctic so he hoped he’d be okay now.

Iron Man touched down ten feet away while Bucky was doing chest compressions.

“Reformed HYDRA?” he asked, his gauntleted hand up and ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

“No.” It came out with a grunt. Followed by a relieved sigh and slumped shoulders when water spurted out of Steve’s mouth and he started coughing. “Just stolen armor.” He moved Steve onto his side in case there was more water that needed to be expelled, then sat back on his haunches. “Bucky Barnes,” he said without looking back. “We met once before.”

“Right. Right,” Stark said after a moment of thought. “Angry custodian with a gun.”

It kicked up a ghost of a smile. Fond memories, shooting the STRIKE team. “And Steve’s boyfriend,” Bucky added. That seemed the most important thing at the moment. He was staking a public claim and he wasn’t moving from Steve’s side. The hospital—which Bucky was going to make damn sure Steve went to—and everyone else could just suck it.

“Wait…really? Mr. Spangle-Pants over there is dating a—”

Bucky twisted to stare, narrow-eyed, warningly, at the man.

“—fine specimen, such as yourself?”

“Nice save.”

“Nice ass,” Stark returned with a smirk.

“Well, be that as it may,” Bucky said, causing Stark to bark out a laugh, “Steve got shot at least three times. I’m pretty sure he also got stabbed at some point. He needs a doctor. Bleeding out isn’t any better than drowning. They both wind up with him dead.”

“Right.” Stark’s grin dropped and he became all business. He began talking to his A.I. and ordering an ambulance ride for two, setting up security at the hospital.

He also, Bucky noted absently, ordered drones to start searching for Steve’s shield, whether it be on land, in the river, or in the twisted metal wreckage of the Helicarriers or collapsed Triskelion rubble.

There was nothing to do now but wait.

*****

Steve woke up to the sounds of hospital machines beeping, slow, steady breathing, and music. And warmth. Opening his eyes, his brow crinkling at the dull pain, he tightened his arm instinctively around Bucky, sleeping crammed into the hospital bed and curled into Steve’s less-injured side. Then he looked over at Sam, sitting in a chair beside the bed, reading a book.

“On your left.”

Sam slowly smirked at their joke and Bucky snuggled closer in his sleep. Steve felt safe enough in that moment to slide his hand into Bucky’s hair and drift back to sleep.