Work Text:
1
“Excuse me, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. It’s against company policy to sleep anywhere in the store.” Bucky was trying to be polite, but it wasn’t exactly the greatest start to the day when you found a person who had stayed overnight in IKEA, even if it was this sickly looking boy.
The boy in question looked like he had stopped growing at the age of twelve, about five foot four and five stone soaking wet, and he had spent the night at IKEA, where Bucky worked.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry. It was just a silly dare, nothing more. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it, if you give me a few minutes to get myself looking presentable.” The kid was awful polite, and somehow, the small grin that he was giving Bucky was making all the morning so much more bearable.
“Take your time kid, I’m the only worker on duty until 9,” he said gently, patting the kid on the shoulder.
“What’s the time?”
Bucky looked down at his watch. “About 7:30. Have a nice day,” he said, smiling at the sickly boy.
“You too,” he replied, giving Bucky a half-hearted salute, which Bucky returned, walking off towards the delivery zone to receive this morning’s first batch of DIY tables and chairs.
For some odd reason, he couldn’t stop smiling.
2
When Bucky got into work the next day, he was greeted to the sight of the sickly kid from yesterday sleeping peacefully on one of the display sofas. This time, he wasn’t so sure that it was a dare, because no kid is stupid enough to go to the same IKEA store two days in a row when they had been caught sleeping there the night before.
He would have gone over to disturb him, but the bags underneath his eyes said that he needed the sleep a lot more than he would have probably cared to admit, so Bucky decided to leave him for an hour and wake him up then.
He walked over to the delivery zone, greeted Clint and Tasha with the same cordial greeting he did every morning, and got to work unpacking the tables and the chairs. He would need to work extra hard if he wanted to wake the kid up in an hour.
buckystevebuckystevebuckysteve
An hour and twelve minutes later, he was sitting at one of the cashier desks, Clint and Natasha gone, fiddling around with the phone, when suddenly he was struck with an idea.
“Excuse me, if I may have a moment of your time, kid from yesterday,” he said over the intercom, grinning to himself. “My name is James Barnes, although you can call me Bucky, and I would just like to inform you that IKEA is due to open in twenty minutes, so you might want to haul ass out of here. Thank you!”
Five minutes later, he was greeted to the sight of the kid sprinting out of the door, saluting at him.
3
This was starting to worry Bucky. He had wandered into work again today, and for the third day in a row, he was greeted to the sight of the kid sleeping on the display sofa. This time, however, there was an IKEA map resting on his face, words scribbled around the margin.
Dear Bucky,
If you could please wake me up when it is 8:00, that would be much appreciated.
Thank you in advance,
Steven Rogers (although you can call me Steve)
Steve. Huh. The name suited the sickly boy, and he found himself later than morning excusing himself from unloading the truck at precisely 7:55 so that he could wake Steve up on time.
For the rest of the day, he was constantly wondering what his situation was, why he was sleeping in IKEA all of the time, why he needed to. Did he have a home he could go to, somewhere safe, or was IKEA the only option.
He didn’t get much work done that day, because all he could think about was Steven Rogers.
4
“Do you need me to call a shelter?”
“What?” Steve was only beginning to come to consciousness, opening his eyes to see Bucky peering over him.
“Do you need me to call a shelter?” Bucky repeated.
“Why would you think that?” Steve asked, something in his voice that sounded like sarcasm and fear and everything that Bucky didn’t want to hear mashed up into one sound.
“Because you sleep at IKEA Steve. You have for the last three or four days, and I can’t let it go on any longer, no matter how much I want it too. My job is on the line here, so do you need me to call a shelter?” Bucky said, concern flooding his voice.
“No, no you don’t. I’m fine, I swear. I’ll just be on my way then, and I promise you I’ll never bother you again,” he said defensively, his body posture shifting to turn away from Bucky. But he didn’t have a minor in Psychology for nothing, and so he had a whole range of techniques he could use to help Steve out.
“Steve stop, this isn’t about whether I’m bothered by you or not, which, for the record, I definitely enjoy your company a lot more than the assholes I work with. This is about your safely, and whether you need me to call a shelter for you. I don’t care about the reason, I just want to make sure that you are safe, okay?” He said as calmly as he could manage, gripping his shoulders and forcing Steve to look him in the eyes.
“Then could I stay with you for a while? I know that sounds super forward but I can’t go to a shelter because of what happened last time and the amount of people that will beat you up just to steal a few dollars and I’m so small and…” Steve was rambling, the panic setting into his voice. Bucky gave Steve’s shoulders a light squeeze.
“Steve, look at me. It’s okay, you can come stay with me for a bit and we’ll get you all sorted out, okay?” Bucky said reassuringly.
“Okay.”
+1
It was still weird waking up in this bed, Bucky lying next to him, curled in a cocoon of sheets. Even though he was left with like one cotton sheet, he found he wasn’t cold. That’s what you get when you’re sleeping with the human equivalent of a heater, he thought to himself.
This time last year, he was sleeping in IKEA, nowhere else to go and the prospect of a good bed and a bit of food too much to resist. This time last year, he was homeless, unemployed and broke, suffering even more because of his size.
Today, he’s at uni, with the most gorgeous boyfriend to ever walk the earth looking after him like a devoted housewife, which he both loved and hated at times.
“What are you thinking about?” Bucky’s hoarse voice pierced through the silence, and Steve grinned.
“Nothing, go back to sleep. Or give me the covers back, your choice,” he said, smiling.
“I’m going to stay in my cocoon thanks,” Bucky said, poking his tongue out before rolling back over.
“Mean,” Steve said sarcastically.
“You love me,” Bucky retorted.
Yes, he thought, yes I do.