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Bucky was 5 when he learned what a soulmate was and he was 8 when he learned that he wouldn’t be getting one. Everyone was born with a timer, and sometimes the time sped up and sometimes it slowed down, but eventually, the timer would hit zero and you’d meet your soulmate.
But for Bucky, he was born with 00:00, which meant his soulmate had already passed away. It wasn’t common for that to happen, but it wasn’t rare either. At 8 years old, it didn’t matter much to Bucky that he’d never meet his soulmate.
At 30 years old, it mattered a lot more. He’d had a long time to deal with the fact that his soulmate was gone and sure eventually they could be reunited, but in the meantime, that was no reason why he couldn’t live a perfectly normal, fulfilling life.
He’d tried dating sites for people who had lost a soulmate, or the very rare ones who had none at all. He’d gone to speed dating, matchmakers, blind dates, the whole works since he was 18, but no one ever felt right in the long run.
Eventually, he decided he was done pretending like he was ever going to be settled, like he wasn’t ever going to feel there was supposed to be more . So, with an engineering degree he didn’t really want, and a ton of student loans, Bucky did the only logical thing: join the Army.
As someone with no soulmate, and the fact that he already had a degree and apparently a knack for hitting things from very far away meant he was fast tracked for Spec Ops, Weapons Sergeant.
Bucky was in for seven years before it all went to shit and he was hit by an IED. His left arm was torn from his body, and he was captured by insurgents who passed him off to what he now knew as Hydra. Bucky didn’t like to think about the months he spent strapped to a table in a moldy underground bunker, which was a good thing because he couldn’t remember most of it.
In the end, they’d just left him on the side of the road in Berlin, a brain full of holes and a metal arm hanging from his shoulder. Whatever they had tried to do to him hadn’t worked, apparently. He was taken to the nearest base and spent the next four months in psych before they cleared him and discharged him with a purple heart and unresolved PTSD.
So, Bucky went home, back to Brooklyn and when he’d unlocked the front door, he found a black man with an eye patch waiting for him. Bucky would have panicked, but he knew from experience if this man wanted him dead, he would be already (he didn’t think about how that now went both ways).
Nick Fury offered him a job. Bucky signed the contract the next day.
Bucky was sent across the world. When a mission required a certain skill set. When it required a ghost. He’d do his job, come home to his empty apartment, and sit on his thumbs for about a week or two before he got antsy, and he was on the next jet out.
This was Bucky’s life. And he was fine with it. Really.
But then one day something very strange happened.
“ Hello ?” a sleepy voice answered the phone.
“Something’s wrong,” Bucky whispered.
He could hear Becca wake up, instantly at attention. “Bucky? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It’s my clock.” He was still whispering, like if he spoke too loud his clock would go back to normal. “It’s flashing .”
“What?”
“I don’t know. The numbers are flashing.”
“They still say zero?”
“No.” He shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. “12:00, like when the power goes out.”
“Do you…” She took a deep breath. “Do you think you maybe died in your sleep or something?”
Bucky took stock of himself. Did he maybe have a heart attack? He felt fine. Besides, the chances of him having any ailments after what Hydra had done to him…not likely.
“I don’t think so,” Bucky finally replied. “What could this mean?”
“Where are you?” she asked instead.
“I’m home. In Brooklyn. I, uh, got back today,” he lied, and she knew it. Bucky had been home for a week and a half.
“Come over here,” she said and he could hear her rustling around. “Bring coffee.”
—
The thing about timers is they run on their own time. They’re smart. You could see your soulmate every day for ten years and if the timer says you aren’t ready, it keeps counting. You and your soulmate could have different times because it’s when you’re ready. It doesn’t happen a lot, but sometimes one soul mate will be ready years before the other. People never know exactly when they’ll meet their soulmate, just a general time. Once you meet them, the timer disappears.
After Bucky woke up to his flashing timer, he and Becca tried to research what they could on it, and what they found left more questions than answers. The best they could guess was that maybe Bucky was getting a soulmate…because their first soulmate had died. Two soulmates were so rare that anyone who had two was sent for mandatory testing along with their mates. The last thing Bucky wanted was to sit in a chair and be poked and prodded by scientists asking him brain teasers.
So, Bucky was very careful not to show his timer. He was used to wearing long sleeves anyway, between the metal arm and the 00:00 on his right that had already caused people to give him looks of pity. It wasn’t worth the trouble to let people see.
Bucky’s clock flashed for three days and then the aliens invaded.
Bucky had been on stand-by at SHIELD’s New York office when the door opened and in walked Nick Fury and Maria Hill with a man in a Captain America costume, followed by Iron Man, Natasha (the Widow, he reminded himself, they were at work), Clint ( Hawkeye, Bucky), and Dr. Bruce Banner.
“Agents,” Fury said, and everyone sat up a little straighter. “These are the Avengers. They will be running point on this mission.”
Bucky blinked. He’d been approached by Fury for the Avenger initiative but turned it down. He was more useful when he could jump from team to team and work solo missions.
“And this,” Fury continued, gesturing to the man in the Captain America suit, “is Captain America. He will be taking lead and will brief you.”
Despite the room being full of the best of the best, a murmur went up amongst the crowd of soldiers. Bucky understood the general disagreement; all the other Avengers they were familiar with. The Widow and Hawkeye regularly went out with STRIKE teams. But the Star-Spangled Man With a Plan? He was an unknown, and the thing about SHIELD special agents was they didn’t take orders without question.
Fury’s stern eye swept over them, and the din died out.
“Thank you, Nick,” the man in the suit said, and Bucky saw Natasha smile. The man had a deep voice, and his eyes were clear blue under the cowl. “Agents, we have been informed that an attack is headed this way. The enemy is a foreign army, being controlled by an agent of chaos named Loki. They are like no other enemy you have fought before, as they are alien life forms.”
A picture came up on the screen behind him of a reptilian-looking creature in armor.
“Captain America” continued before anyone could say anything. “They will not hesitate to eliminate you. Do not hesitate when you encounter them. We have been working closely with a known associate of Loki, so we aren’t completely in the dark here in terms of strategy, but let me say this before we go any further: unless you have a death wish, do not engage directly with Loki.”
The picture changed to what looked like a normal white man with greasy hair in a crown sporting horns and holding a staff. Bucky recognized him from a previous briefing after an incident in Germany.
“Why not?” Someone called out.
The man in the Captain America suit looked at them all, and Bucky was reminded of first grade when he spoke. “You’ve all seen the pictures of what happened in Germany. It was real. Loki is not of this world. He is from Asgard, the planet that Norse legends come from. The legends are true. So, unless you think you’re strong enough to single-handedly take down a literal god, leave him be.”
There was a beat of silence and then the man asked, “Any other questions before I move onto strategy?”
“Yeah,” Bucky said before he could stop himself, and those piercing blue eyes instantly snapped to his. “Why should we listen to you?”
Every head in the room turned to Bucky. The man frowned and, out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw Natasha and Clint snickering. The man in the suit reached up and pulled off the cowl, and there were a few gasps about the room as his face was revealed.
But Steve Rogers, the real Steve Rogers, was looking straight at Bucky when he said, “I’m Captain fucking America.”
—
Captain fucking America was a graceful fighter, Bucky had noted during the battle, but he really needed more practice watching his six. That was about the only thought Bucky had besides aim, shoot during the battle. He’d been assigned to move with the good captain, jumping from rooftop to rooftop as he made his way downtown, picking off aliens before Steve Rogers knew they existed.
When everything was said and done, and after they’d debriefed, Bucky was surprised that the Captain came up to him.
“Thanks for having my back out there,” Rogers said with a nod.
Instead of brushing him off, something that any normal human would do, Bucky found himself chastising a national icon. “You need to pay closer attention to your surroundings.”
Rogers’ eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”
“Snipers are support , you can’t rely on them to take out every single threat when your back is turned. What if I had been incapacitated? What would you have done then?”
“Are you saying that you’re not good enough to watch my back?”
It was Bucky’s turn to be caught off guard.
“Because the way I hear it,” the Captain continued, “Everyone in that room is supposed to be the best of the best. The way I hear it, you were offered a spot on the Avengers. Are you saying that your skills aren’t up to that level?”
“No,” Bucky growled, “What I’m saying is—”
But Rogers didn’t let him finish. “Next time, if you’re not up to the task, just say so Sergeant .”
Rogers was gone, heading out of the room before Bucky could work up the nerve to punch him squarely in his stupid, perfect fucking face.
Natasha appeared before him as he watched Rogers leave the room.
“You’d make a cute couple.”
Bucky sputtered at her and she laughed.
“There are so many things wrong with that, but I’ll start with the fact that he’s a fucking asshole.”
“So are you,” she shot back. He couldn’t argue with that, so instead, he brought up the fact that the man was a literal hero and also from the 1940s. But Natasha waved him off. “I think gay people existed in the 40s, Barnes.”
Then Clint called her and she was gone. Bucky couldn’t think about the day’s events anymore, first aliens, then Steve Rogers, now whatever the hell Nat was on? It was too much for one day.
He changed out of his combat clothes and took a perfunctory shower before heading home. It wasn’t until he was shrugging off his jacket when he got inside that he realized it.
His timer was counting down.
—
Bucky didn’t tell SHIELD about his timer. He wasn’t sure he wanted a soulmate. He was 30 years old, and he’d gotten through his whole life without having one. He’d had 30 years to make peace with the fact that he’d never have one. What if he just kept on like things were normal? The timer wouldn’t give him his soulmate until he was ready. He’d just never be ready.
“That’s a terrible plan,” Becca told him over lunch one Saturday. “First of all, you don’t decide when you’re ready. The timer does. And second of all, what are you going to do when your soulmate’s clock runs out?”
“Lie,” Bucky said easily.
She fixed him with a disapproving look. “Bucky, you know what happens to people who ignore their soulmate.”
Bucky waved her off. “That’s just an old wives' tale.”
They’d all heard the stories, and that’s just what they were, stories . People who refused to acknowledge their soulmate had to contend with The Goose. Better to outright reject your soulmate than to pretend they didn’t exist.
“Don’t come crying to me when The Goose bites you in the ass. Literally.”
He rolled his eyes at her and replied, “The Goose doesn’t exist, Becca.”
“Aren’t you curious though?” she asked a moment later. “Your clock starting later in life is almost unheard of. That means they gotta be special right?”
For some reason, Steve Rogers’ smug face flashed into Bucky’s brain. He quickly pushed it aside. “To be my soulmate? I’m not sure if that's someone I want to meet.”
Becca’s eyes instantly clouded over. “Bucky.”
“ Rebecca ,” he tried, hoping to stop whatever self-love speech she was about to launch into.
“I hate to hear you talk about yourself like that. You’re a good person. You deserve good things. Your soulmate is going to be wonderful and they are going to love you no matter what. I wish you could believe that.”
Bucky wished he could, too.
—
The next time Bucky saw Steve Rogers was when the Avengers with the new addition of The Falcon had been sent to his mission. Bucky was furious by the time the fighting was done. As he approached the captain, the rest of the team gave him a wide berth.
“You,” he barked, pointing a finger at Rogers. “What the fuck was that?”
“Are you talking to me?” Rogers had asked, a look of disbelief on his face.
The other Avengers gathered around as Bucky lit into him.
“This was not your mission, and those were not your calls to make! Do you know how much unnecessary damage you just caused? Do you know how many lives could have been lost?”
Rogers was livid. “But lives weren’t lost and buildings can be repaired. My priority is—”
“I don’t give a fuck about your priorities!” Bucky cut him off. “You were not CO on this mission, you were not authorized to give those orders, because you didn’t have all the intel! You cannot decide to change a plan because you don’t like it, that’s how people get fucking killed. You undermined my authority to not only your team but mine .”
“Authority?” Rogers scoffed. “I’m a captain .”
“You’re a figurehead,” Bucky shouted back. “Me, my team? We’ve earned our titles, they weren’t handed it to sell fucking war bonds.”
Rogers took a step back, a blush rising to his face and for a moment, it endeared him to Rogers. Bucky heard the Falcon and Stark make dual noises of sympathy and Natasha stepped forward to de escalate and the thought was gone, replaced by his valid anger.
“Don’t even get me started on you two,” he bit out and gestured to her and Clint. Then back to the captain. “Next time, if you’re not able to handle having someone else give the order, just say so, Captain. ”
Bucky left before anyone else could say another word.
—
It always went like that. Bucky would get stuck on a mission with Rogers and every time it would end in shouting. Bucky couldn’t help it. The punk had a knack for getting himself in unnecessary trouble, taking risks no one should, super soldier or not. It bothered Bucky, and it didn’t matter why.
Rogers always gave as good as he got. He was hypercritical of Bucky, from his uniform to his plans, and when he couldn’t find something to needle Bucky about, he’d try to goad him into a fight. Bucky hated to admit it but Rogers did have a lot of good insight. Still, he pushed back, just to get a rise out of Rogers. It wasn’t because he looked cute when he was mad.
“So, when are you going to ask him out?” Natasha asked one day when it was just the two of them coming back in from a milk run in Venezuela.
“Who?”
“Steve.”
“Rogers?”
“Do you know any other Steve’s?”
“Yeah, from accounting.”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s like 57 years old and married.”
“Well, Steve Rogers is like a 100 years old and just lost his soulmate like six months ago.”
“No, he didn’t,” she said very quietly. Bucky turned to her, and she sighed. “Peggy Carter wasn’t Steve’s soulmate. It was just a good story. Steve didn’t have a soulmate growing up.”
Bucky took that information in and turned it over in his head. The way that she phrased it was odd, but Bucky couldn’t quite figure out why. When he didn’t say anything else, she sighed again, a lot more dramatically, and muttered, “Boys,” under her breath.
He spent the rest of the flight home trying to figure out why the knowledge that Peggy Carter wasn’t Steve Rogers' soulmate made him feel lighter.
—
Eventually, Rogers figured out that Bucky was also a super soldier. Well, actually Natasha told him, he suspected, but either way, Rogers now knew.
“Spar with me,” Rogers challenged one afternoon during lunch at H.Q.
Bucky didn’t even look up from his chicken vindaloo. “Time and place.”
Fighting with Rogers, physically fighting him, was ten times better than yelling at him. Bucky wished they’d done this sooner.
As it turned out, they were pretty well evenly matched, but Bucky had been trained to kill by fucking Nazis, and Rogers had been trained to protect.
By the third loss of the day, Rogers was in a fit.
“Again!” Rogers shouted as he got up from the mat.
Bucky didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he chuckled and said, “Haven’t you had enough, sweetheart?”
Bucky had never seen someone look so beautiful in all his life. Rogers had been mad before, sure, but the look of determination on his face, the indignation, and the downright stubbornness behind his eyes had Bucky’s heart doing flip-flops.
“I can do this all day,” was all the warning Bucky got before Rogers lunged at him.
As they fought, Bucky realized that Rogers had memorized Bucky’s fighting patterns. He was suddenly one step ahead of every strike and blow Bucky went to make, and when Rogers finally pinned him to the ground, Bucky started to laugh.
“Why the fuck are you laughing?” Rogers demanded. “Did you—did you let me beat you?”
Even though Rogers had beaten him fair and square, Bucky couldn’t but tease, “Now why would I do that, Stevie?”
Rogers’ eyes went wide, and he was off him in a flash. “You’re a dick, Barnes!” he called as he headed for the locker room.
Bucky laid on the mat for a long time, grinning stupidly up at the ceiling.
—
After that, Bucky found himself seeking Steve out. He couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to even, but he couldn’t deny that he was drawn to him. But whatever it was, Steve must have felt it, too.
Bucky was right, Steve was an asshole. And stubborn and self-righteous and definitely a little shit, but he was also intelligent, strong, and patient when he needed to be. He was quick-witted and funny. He was good with kids, animals, and old ladies. He was also a self-sacrificing idiot, who did everything in his power to protect others from getting hurt, usually by getting hurt himself.
He smiled easily at those he liked, and Bucky found himself wishing those smiles were directed at him more and more.
It was strange. They were almost always found together, and to anyone who passed by it probably didn’t make any sense, because it seemed like they were always arguing. Steve was always glaring or blushing, Bucky was always smirking or frowning, but they stayed next to each other.
They hung out outside of work, too, Bucky showing him the modern New York, and Steve schooling him on things older than them both. They watched movies and went to see plays, and once Bucky was able to get Steve to pull some strings so they could sit VIP at a Beyonce concert, which turned into a group even once Steve mentioned it to the rest of the Avengers and Bucky insisted on bringing Becca if everyone was going. He was pretty sure he’d never have to buy her another present again.
At the end of June, Bucky noticed his timer was getting dangerously low. He was shorter than usual, especially when it came to Steve. Steve finally had had enough and blew up at him at a Shake Shack, and now they hadn’t spoken in almost a week.
But how could Bucky explain to Steve what was wrong? How could he tell him he was about to meet his soulmate, someone he never thought he’d get, someone he didn’t even want because it wasn’t going to be Steve ? They had never even talked about soulmates because, as far as everyone was concerned, neither of them had one.
Bucky was a little nervous about showing up to Stark’s Fourth of July/Happy Birthday Captain America party considering the radio silence between him and Steve, but he reasoned, he was still friends with the rest of the Avengers. And maybe tonight he could apologize to Steve, maybe actually tell him what was going on.
The party was in full swing by the time Bucky got there. He greeted some people he knew, but he saw no sign of the blond head he was looking for. Across the room, Natasha caught his eye and looked up. The roof . She meant. He nodded to her and headed back for the elevator.
The roof was surprisingly quiet. He’d expected a lot more people up there, but from the looks of it, it was just Steve, leaning against the railing, looking out over the New York skyline. As Bucky stepped further on the roof, Steve turned towards him. God , he was beautiful, Bucky thought, even in silhouette.
“Steve,” Bucky started once he was a few paces away from him, but then he stopped in his tracks. Suddenly, his right arm began to tingle, and Bucky pulled up his sleeve and watched as his timer counted down 00:03, 00:02, 00:01, 00:00…
“It’s you,” Bucky whispered, and then Steve was looking down at his own arm and Bucky saw the faint light of the numbers, 00:01, 00:00.
“Oh, thank God,” Steve breathed, and then they were in each other’s arms, and they were kissing and it felt like for the first time in Bucky’s life he could finally breathe .
“I thought you didn’t have a soulmate,” Steve said when they finally pulled apart.
“I didn’t,” Bucky explained. “About a year ago, the numbers started flashing, and then…” he trailed off as the last piece of the puzzle slotted into place. “It took them three days to wake you up?”
Steve nodded. “I didn’t have numbers when I went into the ice. But they were there when I woke up.”
Bucky marveled at the fact that not only did he have a soulmate, but it was Steve! “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick lately. I knew my timer was getting low, and I thought—”
“I get it,” Steve cut him off. “It was the same for me. I’m so happy it’s you, Buck.”
“Me too, Stevie,” Bucky replied, pulling him in for another kiss. “Me too.”