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Bucky Barnes hosted his own chat show – he’d been a kid actor who’d got lucky and won an Oscar, a teenage rebel with everything to lose and far too many pictures of him falling out of clubs (and beds) and now, in his late 20’s he’d worked up a solid reputation in showbiz for being self-deprecatingly funny and good at asking questions that showed the best in people – and got some great bookings through the producer.
His openness about his sexuality was no longer news, he’d come out as Bi while being interviewed by Ellen and now she was his major competitor for ratings. He loved her, though, and their Twitter exchanges were often long and hilarious. He’d been at her wedding. She teased him about attending his.
“This week we’re talking to Pepper Potts, the new CEO of Stark Industries – I don’t know if you’ve heard of her – she’s the one keeping Tony Stark from declaring war on… well, pretty much everybody.”
The audience tittered good naturedly. He’d already had Tony on the show a year or so ago after he’d come back from being kidnapped and tortured – wisely keeping away from those subjects and sticking to the more ‘kid safe’ topics of past affairs and future plans. Pepper’s name had popped up a few times (and enough for more than Bucky to notice) and now it was her turn to sit on the oversized snuggle chairs he used.
They’d had a quick rundown of what they would be talking about before they’d taken to the floor, she didn’t want any speculation on the nature of her relationship with Tony – she was more than happy to talk about her hobbies, her job and the various charities she funded. In exchange for no questions about Tony, he was allowed to ask her about what she ‘really’ thought about Justin Hammer’s sexist comments about a woman CEO. He was looking forward to it being a trending topic on Twitter.
#womanontop
“Tumblr loved it.” Darcy told him, scrolling through the social media as he took off the make-up that stopped him from looking shiny on screen. “The green Henley worked, getting a lot of comments about your shoulders and arms – they’re noticing the gym, finally.”
He shrugged, he had a little baby fat – he’d been carrying it for a while, and he’d announced that for New Years he’d be eating better and focusing on his health more, the #Buckybabe challenge had been going on for 6 months and he’d been pretty pleased with the results but had noticed people hadn’t been picking up on his slow but steady transformation. His assistant Darcy had smirked when he complained. The wardrobe changes had been her idea. “Next week we’ll use the tighter jeans. You’re robbing America of some killer thighs, boss.”
“You don’t think it’ll be too much too soon?”
“Nah, we’ll put you in the navy sweater that they liked last year, the one that made you look ‘cuddly’.”
He paused; wipe hovering in front of his face. “I’m trying to avoid ‘cuddly’ Sugar.”
“The jeans’ll make you look fuckable.” She smirked, rolling her eyes at him. “I know what I’m doing.”
He had to nod at that, she was the best assistant he’d ever had – sure a lot of her comments were bordering on sexual harassment, but he gave as good as he got and he was pretty sure a lot of the crew thought they were fucking. He’d certainly made a good attempt to get into her panties when he’d first hired her. However, they’d both had a good laugh about it when he realised that she was quite happily dating someone else (He’s a singer, that’s all I’m saying) and had no interest in Bucky in that way. He’d accepted it, even stopped flirting until she’d told him that if he called her ‘Miss Lewis’ or ‘Darcy’ one more time, she’d tase him in his sleep.
“You’re the boss, doll.” He shrugged. “What else?
“Uh, the hashtag isn’t trending yet, but we’ve only just gone out, so… give it time.” She picked up her tablet, scrolling. “Got gifs up of Miss Pott’s answer to Hammer. Looking good on Facebook, but a few fuckboys crying about women taking their jobs.”
“Put a comment on the one with the most likes.” Bucky said. “Hashtag: womanontop… can do it just as well as any guy.” He paused. “Then put a link to the stats thing her people sent us, with the increase in profits since she took over.”
“Sure thing.” Darcy said, grinning. “Cry more, boys.”
He grinned, and winked.
Home was… well…nice. He’d bought a few properties when he was younger, after some pretty good financial advice, but had mostly fucked everything over by the time he’d hit 21. He only had the one place now, a large apartment that overlooked the park. He’d only managed to keep it because he’d snagged the talk show gig.
Now it was less like the crack den of his youth and reflected his current lifestyle – decorated in calming colours and oversized furniture that cost more than he cared to think. His Oscar was over the fireplace opposite his mug shot, not a real fireplace, but real enough to pass. He liked to keep them both where he could see them. A reminder that although he had it all, he almost lost it all too – to stay good.
There were three messages on his phone. One from his old agent, who was still threatening to write a tell-all book about Bucky’s antics as a child star, one that would ‘ruin him for life’ and one from his current agent, telling him that the cover for his auto-biography (A gritty tell-all about his antics as a child star) had been approved and they’d announce it whenever he was ready.
“Fuck you, Peirce,” He sang, as the new message played.
The last message told him in a robotic voice that he was owed compensation for an accident at work – he’ll never work out how to block those numbers – and he deleted it.
He’s got a week to prepare for his interview with Natasha Romanov, an actress who was a fan favourite but didn’t seem to be getting the traction that her male co-stars were getting. His musical guest was Sam Wilson, so Bucky turned on his MP3 player, loaded with everything the guy ever wrote or sang, and let it play while he picked up his laptop and started googling Natasha. He spent the night looking through her tweets and her Facebook. Her people had send through a package that had a bio and movie list, but honestly, he could find more out via IMDB and the posts on Tumblr. Darcy had a stack of DVD’s, including the ones where Natasha had only had shitty bit parts – and as the music played he drew out a viewing list.
It wasn’t the life he’d expected when he was a teenager, sitting on his couch with a diet soda and a pile of straight-to-video movies, but at least he wasn’t shooting up in toilets, back in rehab or dead.
There was a picture online of Natasha kissing Steve Rogers. It was grainy and terrible and obviously taken from CCTV or a shitty mobile camera, and the only reason he found it was because he’d been on her tagged pictures on Tumblr and those guys found everything. There was an argument that it wasn’t him – the image was too blurry, the quality was shit and couldn’t be cleaned up, but still. Steve Rogers. He sent the image to Darcy, who loved him, and got a text almost instantly.
Babydoll : Holy shit!
“So, Natasha,” Bucky said, they’d been talking about her latest movie, ‘Black Widow’ where she played a soviet assassin turned CIA asset. It was pretty good – Bucky had been allowed to see it after the NDA had been signed. They had played a clip, showing the pre-approved scenes from the studio executives. It was pegged as a summer blockbuster, and Bucky hoped it would do well for her. “I hear that you’ve had your, ah, web, around a certain blond American.” He said, winking at the audience who loved it when he did shit like that. Corny as hell but it kept him in work. In their talk before they’d gone to air she’d given him free reign over her current relationship status if he promised to avoid talking about her messy divorce – people always brought it up in interviews because her ex-husband was old and rich and she’d been too young and dirt poor. Of course, the flash in her eye clearly said she’d been thrown by his question.
“Blond American?” She asked, stalling for time as she flipped her hair and smiled through her lashes at him.
“I’d even go as far as to call him a Star Spangled Man.” He lead, and a few of the audience took gasps, working it out faster than Natasha, who looked confused. Obviously the movie nerds had shown up for her interview. “An image recently surfaced online,” not that recent, a good couple of months, but fuck it, “And I’d say that,” He pointed to the image on the screen of the ‘kiss’ “Looks a lot like you getting cosy with Steve Rogers.”
Several things happened at once. The audience erupted in ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhs’ and a few cheers (He was, after all, Americas golden boy) but what caught his eye was the sag in Natasha’s shoulders, like she was relieved.
“Steve’s a close personal friend.” She said with the smirk she was famous for. “But we’re not dating; he’s still very much single.”
“Way to throw a guy under the bus,” Bucky winked at her, getting an ‘ooooh’ from the audience. “But I can’t help but notice you’re keeping pretty quiet on your status.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back. “Are you seeing anyone else?”
“I’d have to kill you, if I told you,” She said, lifting her quote (and her accent) directly from the movie they’d been promoting.
The audience laughed as he dramatically covered his heart with his hand. “You wound me.” He laughed, and the tension was gone.
Steve Rogers was a TV actor who’d been in the same show for nearly a decade. It was set in world war two and told the story of a young military man’s rise to glory. It had started out on the history channel before getting picked up in its second season. Technically it should have had three seasons, but it had been topping the viewers polls for ever, beating NCIS by a mile every week. Even Game of Thrones didn’t have the following of ‘Captain America’ and Bucky would know, cause his agent told him about it all the fucking time.
Because Bucky Barnes should have been Captain America.
No one knew – it had all been very quiet, but Bucky had been the first choice for the part, he’d read for it – he’d been fitted with the ‘USO’ costume and even had promotional stills taken – before he’d fucked it all up by falling in with Armin and his entourage. He’d shown up loaded to set and had been dropped almost instantly – the studio didn’t need the bad press around their new show.
Steve Rogers, unknown but for a few small parts and a rabid fan base, got the part in his place, and (Even Bucky had to admit) owned the roll like he’d been born to it. He held meet-and-greets with fans on the regular, but kept away from the more traditional promotional tours, so Bucky had interviewed almost everyone on the cast except Steve Rogers. Peggy Carter was a favourite of his, cool as a cucumber and smart as a whip, their interviews were always enjoyable and popular – he could almost beat Ellen on ratings for those shows.
Steve though, he focused on the fans. He went to hospitals and conventions and visited orphanages and was the number one celeb for Make-A-Wish. He (apparently) ran his own Facebook and Twitter, did AMA’s on Reddit and reblogged fanart on Tumblr – fuck, he even drew some of his own, which was weird and awesome and fans loved him for it. The show had gone from strength to strength – with a great casting diversity that a lot of other shows were missing.
Bucky had been trying to book him forever – but he wasn’t the only one. No one had ever managed to get more than an alternate cast member in his place. Bucky counted himself lucky that he got Peggy, because now they were actually friends, and he was fairly often at her place – arguing good-naturedly with her girlfriend Angie about whatever was worth (or not!) seeing on Broadway. But he’d never met Steve.
“The internet thinks Romanov has a boyfriend.” Darcy was saying, curled up on his couch and getting ready for the season finale of Captain America. They both loved the show, he’d watched it at first out of self-hatred (look what could have been yours) and then because he actually really loved it; he always invited Darcy over to watch it because her boyfriend (No, you don’t need to know his name) wasn’t a fan. “She looked way to shifty when you asked her.”
“I saw that.” He agreed. “Blond.” He’d been thinking about it, but had no idea who it could be.
“Do you think Cap’ll manage to escape Red Skull?” She asked, as the theme played. It was actually pretty upbeat tune – Star Spangled Man – and Bucky shrugged.
“Don’t think so, can’t see them wrapping that up so quick. Gotta keep you waiting till next season.”
“Holy shit.” He breathed, as credits rolled. Darcy was crying, tucked into his side and making a wet patch on his shoulder and chest. The screen was white as credits rolled, and Bucky couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. “Did… did they just kill Captain America?”
Peggy’s acting has been what finally done Darcy in – she’d been okay right up until the scene where she was on the coms, begging him to come up with another plan, one that didn’t involve him crashing a plane into the Arctic. Ten years of sexual tension burst when her voice broke, “We never got our date,” she had wept. Fucking Peggy Carter, Bucky had dinner with her a week ago and she hadn’t so much as hinted what was about to go down on the show.
“She loved him!” Darcy sobbed. “Why are they doing this?”
A few seconds later, they must have had the same realisation at the same time. “Has it been renewed?” They said, together.
Suddenly they were both scrambling for their phones, left on the table so they wouldn’t be tempted to post spoilers.
There was nothing. No posts, no news, nothing.
If Captain America had been picked up for an 11th season, it wasn’t public knowledge.
“Holy shit.” He breathed again. “They fucking axed it.”
There was a media blackout for two whole weeks. Fans were going insane with off the wall theories and speculation, and no one at the studio was giving anything away. Angie had text Bucky to let him know that Peggy wasn’t ignoring his calls she was just ‘in meetings’ and even Angie hadn’t been told what they were about.
Then suddenly…
“Care to repeat that?” Bucky said, sitting at the meeting.
“Steve Rogers.” Fury repeated flatly. “Next week.”
“Right.” He nodded, and tried not to look like he was internally cheering. “Are we first or…?”
Fury’s tone didn’t lift. “Fourth. He’s doing Oprah now, then Ellen, The Late show – then us.” A pause. “We’ve been trying to move up the list.”
Bucky nodded, trying not to look at Darcy who was typing a thousand words a minute. “We’ll have to move Clint Barton out.” Bucky said, feeling like he should add something. “He’s really popular right now, and we’ve already started the promo.”
“Are you suggesting we push out the biggest talking point of the year?” Coulson asked, leaning forward. “Rogers is hot right now.”
“Maybe not after three other interviews in the space of a week.” Bucky shrugged.
“But-”
“Barnes has a point.” Hill cut in. “Barton is popular. We’ll need something to combat the hype of Rogers though, if we want to keep ratings.”
“No one’ll keep focus.” Coulson said. “The studio made it quite clear if we don’t take him next week we’ll not see him till he’d done the whole circuit – and maybe even not then, you know how hard he is to pin down.”
“What about Wade Wilson?” Bucky asked, “He’s got the new movie out – has he been pushed out by Rogers?”
“He was supposed to do the Late Show.” Hill agreed. “I’ll look into it.”
“It’s not going to be big enough.” Coulson sighed. “Wade’s not as popular.”
There was a pause, and then Darcy, who normally just kept track of everything for Bucky in case he forgot something, looked up from her phone.
“What about Thor?”
Silence around the table as all heads turned to face Darcy. “Thor.” Fury said, tone drier than the fucking desert. “If we could book Thor we wouldn’t be sitting here.”
“He’s on tour.”
“He’s in Vegas right now.” Darcy said, cheeks turning a little red. “He’ll do it.”
“How-”
“Dating his brother.”
“I’d like to welcome our next guest, 15 time Grammy winner and currently dominating the charts with his latest album: The Dark World, who else could it be? It’s Thor!”
They knocked Ellen off the top spot. Darcy was getting a bonus and Bucky was over the moon – not only was Thor a riot, funny as hell and totally up for anything – he’d announced that he’d married his tour manager, Jane, in Vegas only the week before. They were going to wait till the end of the tour to take a honeymoon. The Bucky Barnes Show got the scoop first, and even the gossip mags were scrambling after them. He bought Darcy some new shoes to thank her, although if she was dating Loki she probably had all the shoes she could even need. “He sings is not an accurate descriptor.” Bucky told her as she snuggled deeper into his couch. “You could have told me.”
“I guess.” She shrugged, and then kicked her feet into his lap and that conversation was over.
Angie Martinelli was a Broadway actress and Bucky met her through Peggy. However, their relationship was much closer than the casual friendship he had with the other actress. They had lunch once a month, to catch up and get a good gossip. She always seemed to know what was going on before anyone else and Bucky loved being in the know – even if he couldn’t actually spill the beans.
“So, from what Peggy tells me, Steve is stressed to hell with all the interviews.” She was saying as they ate. The restaurant was nice and not too far from where he lived and she worked. “He was surprised he wasn’t invited by your people though.”
“His exposure’s too high right now, everyone has the same story.” Bucky said, “I mean, I’d love to interview him, but he’s been asked every damn question and variation on those questions for a month.”
“He watches your show.” She said, spearing some pasta with her fork. “He likes the way you interview women.”
“Most people do.” Bucky winked, and she rolled her eyes at him good-naturedly.
“You should ask him on the show.”
“We’ve been told he’s booked for another two months.” Bucky shrugged. “We knew the risk when we went with Thor instead.”
“Some risk.” Angie laughed, and a few heads turned. She had that effect. “It was the best interview you’ve done.” She was all smiles. “You should ask Steve though; he does watch your show.”
“Thanks for watching,” Bucky said, looking at camera 3. “Next week we’ve got music from Wonder Twins and I’ll be speaking to Steve Rogers about Captain America.”
Steve wasn’t the biggest star Bucky had interviewed. Technically, he shouldn’t even be ranked in the top 10, but his fanbase was massive. They were rabid and vocal and had kept Steve (and the show) in the mainstream for longer than anyone else Bucky had known. They were crucial to the promotion of Captain America, and Bucky’s people made sure that they cashed in on that free publicity by posting on Facebook and Twitter, and Tumblr too. There were traps he’d be avoiding – Bucky knew from experience that the quickest way to alienate a fanbase was to laugh at their passions – so he knew that poking fun at fanfic and fanart was dangerous territory. He had a list of things he wanted to go over Steve with, but the guy was running late in the New York traffic, so Bucky was winging it. He figured it was safe to go through the ‘kiss’ picture he’d flagged up to Natasha, maybe get a sound bite about their relationship, talk a little about his apparent lack of dating – regular stuff. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask about the future of the show – no interviews had mentioned it, which was weird, but it hadn’t been flagged in the pack he’d been sent.
“He’s here, but he’s going to make-up now.” Darcy said, walking in and not looking up from her phone. “He’s wearing a white t-shirt and a blue cardigan – looks casual as fuck, you’ll have to change. Wear the olive Henley, it’s hot.”
“But the press room said I got more hits with the navy shirt.”
“And I’m telling you that you’ll look matchy matchy and not in a cute way. Strip.” She looked up as he pulled the shirt off, mostly so she could wiggle her eyebrows at him lecherously, and frowned when he pulled on the t-shirt. “The jeans don’t work.” The wardrobe was demolished as she pulled clothes out. “Wear these.”
“You said that the tight jeans needed the soft jersey top!” He argued, but he was already popping out the button on the pair he was wearing. He trusted Darcy, she hadn’t steered him wrong yet.
“That was before. This is now.” She grinned, “Live in the now.”
He was sitting on his chair as he talked with the Wonder Twins, a duo that had come up from pretty much nowhere and were rocking the festivals – although it wasn’t the type of thing he personally listened to, he could see they were good – and he wasn’t scraping the bottom of the barrel as he asked his questions. Weirdly, he was nervous about interviewing Steve Rogers. He still hadn’t been able to talk to (or even met!) the man before they started filming and it looked like they were going to have their first meeting on camera – it wasn’t ideal. Bucky had no idea if they’d gel well, and although he was pretty good at keeping his personal opinions undercover (he cast his mind back when he’d had to interview Hank Pym and shuddered inwardly) but he hoped it wasn’t going to be car crash TV.
Another cheer for Wanda and Pietro before he was grinning into the camera. “Well, I guess you all know who my next guest is – he’s been doing the press tour for the first time ever, it’s Captain America himself, Steve Rogers!”
The audience exploded – half the ‘randomly selected’ room were invited through Bucky’s Facebook page for Captain America fans, a chance for some free publicity for the show on the coattails of Steve’s massive fan-base and to ensure that Steve would have people who liked him and wouldn’t heckle if things went horribly wrong.
When Steve walked out though, Bucky felt his mouth go dry. Darcy had told him that Steve had opted for a more casual look and although she wasn’t wrong… she’d missed out the fact he looked like sex on a stick. Fucking hell, the guy had a beard. Nothing Bucky had seen in the past couple of month indicated that Steve was growing a beard. Obviously even his fans weren’t expecting it, because there was a stutter in the welcoming cheer – followed by wolf whistles and a louder welcome than before. Bucky’s mouth was dry, and he took a drink of water before getting to his feet and holding out his hand.
Steve was all smiles, pink ears and that great ‘aww shucks’ vibe that his fans loved – he was still honest and humble and all those good things that they knew Bucky wasn’t.
“Hi Steve, great to finally meet you,” Bucky said, grinning and trying not to stare. Bucky wasn’t a small guy – his gym workouts had his shoulders getting nice and broad, but Steve was much bigger in real life than he seemed on the show. Probably the Captain America uniform didn’t hug his arms or his chest like the plain white Tee he had on under that thin navy cardigan – probably Bucky should stop staring.
“It’s great to be here.” Steve said, and his voice was soft and honest. It was probably a complete lie – Bucky knew that Steve Rogers hated the press circuit and that’s why he avoided it. Fans had been speculating that his recent public appearances were more to do with trying to get Captain America picked up for an 11th season rather than any personal desire to ramp up his profile. Whatever, Bucky was a realist and Steve was great for ratings.
Bucky smiled, more of a smirk really, and indicated for Steve to sit. Christ, he really was hot.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Darcy hissed as Bucky finally finished filming his wrap-up segments.
“What?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“So Steve, I’ve gotta ask, you know – it’s in my contract – that is you locking lips with Natasha Romanov, isn’t it?” Bucky was leaning back in his seat, legs splayed and eyes fixed on Steve. The other man was leaning back too, body language showing he was relaxed and at ease. He grinned, and then shrugged.
“Well, yeah.” He said, rolling his eyes. “Although I’m pretty sure it looks a lot more intimate than it was.”
“Looked pretty intimate.” Bucky smirked, nodding up at the image that was being thrown on the screen behind them.
“You think?” Steve asked, voice pitched just low enough that the hairs on Bucky’s arms started to stand up slightly. “That’s a distraction.”
“I think I’d be pretty distracted if that was me,” Bucky grinned, fuck, his throat was dry. He needed another drink. Something stronger than water.
“If that was you I’d be pretty distracted too.” Steve admitted.
“Did that, was that… dude!” Darcy was saying, gaping like a fish. “Did… dude?”
“You know,” Bucky grinned, “I’ve got to tell you something, something I’ve never told anyone.” He looked at the audience, and smiled that little half smirk that he knew they liked cause it made him look like James Dean. “So let’s keep it between us, yeah?”
“You’ve got my attention, anyway,” Steve smiled. His arm was slung over the back of his chair, opening up his frankly insulting chest to Bucky’s eyes. Fuck, the dude looked like he could bench-press a truck.
“About… oh, ten or some years ago,” Bucky started, “Back when I was still acting, I got a call about a new show on the History Channel.”
Steve didn’t move, although Bucky could see that he had tensed up slightly. The audience gave a low ‘ooooh’ as expected.
“I went in for a few auditions.” Bucky grinned, and waved a hand over to the big screen, where one of the old stills of him wearing Steve’s uniform had been thrown up. He could actually see Steve jerk a little, like he’d been electrocuted, and when he looked over at Bucky, his pupils were blown. The camera was still focused on the stills and audience reactions, and Bucky dropped his eyes to Steve’s crotch and back up to his face, eyebrow twitching.
For his trouble, the tips of Steve’s ears were pink, and he licked his lips.
Oh holy fuck.
“I can’t…” She stammered. “I can’t…. holy shit.”
“I think I look good,” Bucky grinned, “Look at my little baby face!”
“I wasn’t really looking at your baby face,” Steve laughed, and that good a round of laughs from his fans too. “I gotta say, Buck, you look good in my clothes.”
“I look good outta them too.” Bucky smirked, waving a hand over his body, “Yeah, ladies?”
The catcalls reassured him that the whole gym thing was working out for him – and the look he got from Steve through the other man’s sinfully long lashes was like a shot of adrenalin through his blood.
“No one disagrees.” Steve smiled, sly and sexy as hell. “So should I be calling you ‘Cap’?”
“Not in public,” Bucky winked, and both men laughed. “Of course, if anyone here is old enough to remember me back in the day, you’ll know I wasn’t exactly the golden boy I should have been,” He looked at the camera and tried to look sorry and repentant all at once. “But you know, Steve, I think you make a better Captain America that I ever would.” He looked back at his guest who blushed and shrugged.
“I dunno. I mean, you look pretty heroic there.”
“I think I look better than heroic,” Bucky smirked. “But then, if I’d been kept on, things would be very different for both of us.” He looked at the crowd. “I mean, I signed up for three seasons, not 10.” A pause. “Or maybe eleven?”
Steve laughed, a big, hearty laugh. “Well, you know I can’t talk about that.”
“Not even for me?” Bucky teased, pouting.
For a moment, he actually thought Steve was gonna kiss him: The other mans eyes went to his lips and seemed to snag there, like Bucky’s full bottom lip was the most interesting thing Steve ever saw. Time seems to slow down as Steve blinked, then leaned forward.
It was weird, it was magnetic, but it was awesome – Bucky found himself leaning in too – and when he was inches away from Steve, the other man blinked.
“Nope.” He whispered, popping the ‘p’ so that Bucky could actually feel the mint-tinged breath on his lips.
The audience was laughing and Bucky was half hard.
“Oh my god.” She said, fanning herself as they walked down the corridor. “That was… he was totally… you were….” A pause. “Holy crap!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bucky said, opening the door to his dressing room and letting Darcy walk in before him. “It was a good show.”
“A good…” She stammered. “Are you being serious?”
Bucky paused at the threshold. Fuck. “It wasn’t a good show?” He asked, feeling worry creep through his blood like ice. “Why? I thought it felt natural.” He tried to think about their conversation and all he could really remember was the way Steve smiled with his whole body, how his eyes crinkled at the side – the smell of mint on his breath, how he pulled his body back an inch before covering his heart with his hand and laughing. “Wasn’t it? Shit, Darcy – come on, quit lookin at me like that.”
“Uh, no. It was good.” She said, looking at him like his head was stuck up his own ass. “Yeah, good. I can pretty much guarantee that it’ll be a fan favourite.”
He let out a breath, walking in and closing the door. “Don’t do that to me, darlin’,” He chuckled. “I was freaking out.” He sat down at the mirror, picked up his make-up remover and nodded. “Right, tell me things.”
“Uh, twitter liked it.” Darcy said, not looking up from her phone. “Uh, like… a lot.”
“That’s great.” He said, wiping away at the make-up. “Trending anything?”
“Uh, top three – four. Worldwide.”
“We’re in the top three?”
“You are the top three.” Darcy said, sounding highly amused. “Um, we’ve got Hashtag buckybarnesshow, hashtag Steve Rogers and… hashtag Buck-me-cap and eye-sex” She grinned. “I don’t even need to look at Tumblr. I can feel it, like the Force.”
Bucky looked over at her, blinking. “Eye-sex.” He said, trying to keep all kind of emotion out of his voice even though his heart was pounding.
Darcy looked over at him and snorted. “Dude, I’m pretty sure half of America thought you guys were gonna start fucking on live TV.” She said, tone serious. “Bucky, I thought he was gonna shoot his load when he saw you in that uniform. Camera three got his reaction, holy fuck.”
There were gifs of Steve’s expressions as he talked to Bucky. There were fanfictions where the two of them did, in fact, actually fuck right there on the slightly raised dais of the show floor. There was fanart of Bucky dressed as Captain America giving it to Steve (lovingly rendered and being more optimistic with what was in either of their pants than was biologically possible) and Bucky wasn’t sure what to do about it. It seemed every second of footage had been trawled over in minute detail, every lick of his lips, every glance – shit, they’d been way more flirtatious than Bucky could remember.
Some people thought it was obscene of course. Bucky was openly Bi, but Steve Rogers had never answered any questions about his own sexuality and now it was all anyone wanted to talk about. Were they fucking? Was Steve gay? Should the episode have aired? What did Steve’s apparent lack of moral decency mean for his role as Captain America? Ratings soared, the show was going down as the most viewed episode in its history and Bucky was getting pats on the back and smiles from everyone backstage.
But the thing was…
By the time Bucky had wrapped up the show – Steve’s people had whisked him away – Bucky hadn’t been able to talk to him after the show at all. Every second he’d talked to Steve Rogers was out there, for public consumption. He had no idea if Steve had been comfortable with their flirting or if Bucky owed him a really massive apology.
He hoped it wasn’t the apology.
The thing Bucky loved about New York was that the locals were just so damn cool about famous people that they didn’t pay that much attention to him when he went out jogging. Sure, he’d been stopped a few times through the years, but most days he ran unhindered, passed a few familiar faces with a smile and a nod, and that was it. So when he started his usual route, he didn’t think about it much, just set his watch and heartrate monitor and put his headphones in – and started to jog.
He’d gotten further into his run before he realised he was being followed. Not by a photographer, they normally stuck to the verges – not about to risk their equipment if they tripped trying to keep up with a celebrity jogger. Slowing down a little, he knew whoever was following would have to either pass him (if they didn’t want to be obvious) or stop behind him and ask for his autograph or something.
So when he dropped to a much more sedate jog than the flat out running he’d been trying to keep up – damn, it was hard on the legs but he had to admit his thighs never looked better – he wasn’t really expecting anyone to run past him.
“On your left.” A male voice said, and Bucky only had a few seconds before he realised that the electricity running up his spine was his body recognising the running man before his fucking brain. Steve Rogers ran past him, a shit eating smile on his face and an ass that you could probably crack walnuts on.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky hissed, almost landing on his ass.
Steve was off though, and the trailing laughter behind him was a challenge Bucky wasn’t going to let go.
“I think I’m dying.” Bucky said, laying on the grass, rubbing his aching claves. It hadn’t been warm enough for shorts when he started running, but the sun was high and hot now, and he could feel the sweat from his run drying on his chest while new sweat formed on the back of his neck. “I’m pretty sure I pulled something.”
“Hmm.” Steve grinned. He was leaning back on his elbows, chest open to the sun, head tipped back. There was a sheen of sweat on his golden skin that Bucky wanted to taste. “I didn’t expect you to be able to keep up with me, honestly.”
Bucky found himself laughing. “Hell, not this time last year.”
“Took your gym challenge seriously then, did you?” Steve asked, not looking at Bucky, eyes still closed as he basked in the sun. Bucky looked over at him for a few seconds before he trusted his mouth to work.
“You heard about that, huh?”
Steve snorted a laugh. “Yeah. I do actually watch your show, you know.”
“So not just lip service then?”
Steve opened his eyes and gave him what could only be described as a look. “Nothing wrong with a little lip service.” He said, and fucking hell, Bucky was 100% sure that this was flirting. “Anyway, it’s not like you watch Captain America.”
“I’ll have you know,” Bucky retorted with a smirk, “That I’ve never missed an episode.”
Steve’s eyes shut again. “Uh-huh.”
“Don’t you uh-huh me, you lil punk.” Bucky laughed. “That role was mine.”
“Were those pictures actually real?” Steve said, sitting up so that he could look at Bucky properly. “I thought they were mock-ups.”
Bucky grinned, letting go of his aching legs and laying back on the grass. “100% real.” He said, letting his eyes close. “I fucked it up royally, ‘course. I had a self-destructive streak a mile wide back then.”
He couldn’t see Steve move, not with his eyes shut and the sun lighting up the back of his eyelids in pink and reds, but he could hear the shuffle of his body and the feel of the air displacing around them. “Wanna share that story?” Steve asked, and Bucky just knew if he opened his eyes and turned his head, he’d be looking directly into Steve’s eyes.
“Well, it’s not much of a story.” He said, letting the sun warm and the company warm him up. “I got the part. Fuck, I even had a few scenes blocked out – you saw the promo stills.”
“Yeah.” Steve said, and Bucky could feel the other mans breath on his cheek. They were laying on the grass together, Bucky facing the sky and Steve facing Bucky. He’d never felt so fucking good. “I met this guy, little guy, Armin.”
“Zola?” Steve asked, in a tone that said he probably already knew how the story was going to go.
“M-hm.” Bucky hummed. “I assume you’ve met him then?”
“Once.” Steve said, and Bucky knew he was now looking up at the sky. “It wasn’t a pleasant experience.”
“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged. “Back then I was always on something, anything, and Armin was happy to supply. I showed up completely loaded apparently. I don’t even fucking remember… I lost about a week – and when I woke up, I’d been dropped, and my agents – Hydra – dropped me within 24 hours after that.”
Steve didn’t say anything, really there wasn’t that much to say – it was a story that anyone is the industry would have heard before, so Bucky didn’t think he was being judged. Much. “Course, 10 years sober now.” Bucky found himself saying, “Biggest rush I get is when I occasionally order a regular soda and not diet.”
“I smoked pot once.” Steve said, and Bucky wasn’t sure why, but the honest way that Steve said it – like he was expecting Bucky to judge him or cops to appear out of nowhere – was hilarious. He started laughing.
And then his laugh got louder. And then Steve starting chuckling.
And then Bucky couldn’t stop.
They were doubled over, tears hanging on to their lashes – Steve holding his heart and Bucky with his knees pressed against his chest, laughter bouncing over the park. “A whole one, huh?”
“Shuddup,” Steve wheezed. “Jerk.”
They grabbed a couple of bottles of water from a vendor and kept up a line of good-natured ribbing that had Bucky aching with laughter more than any of his gym workouts had. Talking to Steve was… well… it wasn’t like talking to anyone else Bucky knew. He was used to being bossed around by Darcy, and teased by Angie – but talking with Steve was like…. Well… nothing else. They were flirting, Bucky knew – fuck, neither of them were trying to hide it – but it wasn’t just flirting. It was open and comforting and just really great. Bucky didn’t want it to end.
“So, uh, you wanna grab something to eat?” He asked, going for casual and missing by a mile. “Lunch?”
For a moment, he thought Steve was going to say yeah, that they’d get lunch and maybe dinner and maybe end up falling into bed and end up just becoming a couple without any of the awkward dating parts and conversations. But then Steve grinned and shook his head. “Not today, Bucky, I reek. You reek.” He laughed, poking Bucky in the chest. “We’d get thrown out of pretty much everywhere.”
Bucky forced a smile, “Well, if you fall over with malnutrition on the way back to your place, don’t sue me.”
Steve laughed, his blue eyes still dancing. “Uh-huh.” He snorted.
“I should get your number.” Bucky hedged, “Just incase.”
Steve’s smile was brighter than the sun – and three times hotter.
“Guess who’s all over Tumblr?”
“The dude in the monkey hat.” Bucky said, sweat dripping down his back. His personal trainer had just finished kicking his ass and Darcy’s phonecall was a welcome break from the onslaught.
“Nope.” She sang. “You are.”
“You sound chipper.” He pointed out, “So I guess I’ve not said something I need to apologise for?”
“You could apologise for not telling me about your little jogging session with Steve Rogers.” She countered. “Cause dude, you’re giving fangirls palpitations. I’m seeing more papped pictures of you than I’ve ever seen in my life. Very cosy on the grass.” A pause. “Starbucks, they’re calling you.”
Bucky snorted, wiping the sweat out of his eyes. On his phone was a list of text messages going between him and Steve, good natured and suggestive and awesome. “Yeah?”
“Are you dating and didn’t tell me?” She asked, sounding hurt. “Is this payback for me not telling you about Loki, cause if it is, I’m gonna piss in your coffee.”
“We’re not dating.” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “I asked him out, and he said no. I think it’s just a flirting thing.”
“Is he taking my place?” She said, sounding amused.
“Dollface, you’ll always be my number one squeeze.”
“Damn right.” Even down the phone he knew she was smirking.
“My next guest is probably gonna go down in history for the best one liners in movie history – it’s Dog Cops star, Clint Barton.”
His phone was ringing, and Bucky was watching TV in his underwear. He wasn’t quite sure why the AC in his apartment was no longer working, but it was a New York summer and he was pretty sure he’d never sweated so much in his life. “Bucky.” He said, not paying much attention to the caller ID. Only a couple of people had his number and he didn’t have to stand on ceremony with any of them.
“You sound like shit.” Came a deep, very welcome voice down the line. Buckys smile was instinctual.
“Thanks for that Stevie.” He grinned. “Just what I needed to hear. My AC’s bust. I’m melting into the couch.”
“Sitting in your boxers too, huh?”
“Underarmour.” Bucky corrected. “The sexier option.”
“Talking to a guy while in your underwear might be seen as an invitation to start something,” Steve pointed out. “Just so you know.”
“You called me, buddy.” Bucky smirked. “And don’t think I didn’t hear that ‘too’ – I know you’re in your old man boxer shorts.”
“Maybe I wanted to start something.” Steve said, lowly.
Bucky felt heat bloom up over his chest and into his face. He groaned. “Could you have picked a worse time, man? It’s the hottest day in living memory and my AC’s crapped out. I can’t do this.”
Steve’s answering chuckle didn’t sound too disappointed. They’d been flirting back and forth since the park and after a few days, Bucky had figured that Steve was just that kind of guy – Bucky flirted shamelessly with anyone he could, loved the thrill of it, even if it was old ladies or hot dudes. Steve was obviously just the same. The fact that Bucky wanted it to mean more didn’t change anything. He’d had a lot of practice wanting things he wasn’t gonna get.
“How about lunch then?” Steve asked, “I know a place.”
“Is there air con?”
“Sure is.”
“I’m in.”
The place Steve met him was one of those old style mom an pop style diner and the aircon was jacked up so high Bucky shivered when he walked in. “Oh dear sweet Mary mother of God.” He breathed, just standing in the doorway for a few moments, ignoring the way Steve was trying to push past him. “I’m gonna marry this unit.”
Someone laughed, and when he opened his eyes, a woman old enough to be his grandma was smiling at him. “Table for two?”
“Sure thing, darlin’,” He grinned, eyes dancing.
“This is my favourite place.” Steve said, once they were seated and their orders taken. “It’s been here since the 40’s and the menu’s hardly changed.” He was leaning back on the cold vinyl booth seating. Damn, Bucky felt like he’d walked into a fridge unit. He was in bliss. “My grandparents met here.” He grinned. “And my parents came here when they were dating.”
“That’s pretty cool.” Bucky agreed. “My grandparents met at the concession stand at the old movie place round the corner.” He remembered. “They were both on dates.” He grinned. “Old man Barnes was a bit of a flirt.”
“I dunno why that’s not a shock.” Steve grinned, and Bucky smiled back.
“Yeah? Me either.” He snorted. “Weird, huh?”
Unlike Bucky, Steve didn’t flirt with their elderly waitress, or the teenage girls who asked for autographs, or anyone else. In fact, the longer they sat in the booth and lingered over the ‘classic shakes’ they’d ordered, Bucky could see that his flirting was causing a wrinkle to form between Steve’s brows.
“Sup, ol man Rogers?” Bucky grinned, feeling cooler and fuller than he had in days. He’d probably passed the diner a thousand times while living in New York, and was annoyed with himself for missing a damn fine gem in the middle of the city.
“Nothing.” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “You… you just flirt with everyone, huh?”
Bucky laughed. “Course I do.” He smirked. “Best part of my day, making someone blush.” He paused. “Don’t give me that look, you’re just as bad.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.” Bucky said, childishly. “Seriously, that interview? You gave your fangirls major feels.” He grinned. “I thought you were starting something,” He admitted. “Before I realised you’re a bigger flirt than I am.”
Steve paused, looking at Bucky with an open-mouthed expression. “Buck, I’m not a flirt.”
“Like hell you aint.” He laughed. “You flirt with me all the time.”
“Exactly!” Steve said, throwing his hands in the air. “Did you think I wasn’t serious?” he asked, and Bucky blinked slowly. Had Steve actually been seriously flirting with Bucky, and not just teasing? “I don’t bring guys to the same diner my grandparents met, or sit in the same booth as my mom and dad dated in, Jesus Buck, thank god you’re cute, cause you’re thick as two planks of wood.”
Bucky loved social media. He loved everything about it. Loved how people could connect with other people with a click of a button, loved how they could share their interests and talk about their passions to likeminded people. He also loved that Steve was sometimes completely overwhelmed by how much their sex life was one of the things that was talked (and enthusiastically rendered in art and fanfiction) about.
“Oh god, apparently I’m bottoming now.” Bucky said, sitting on his couch after making sure Steve had just taken a drink of his soda. Sure enough, he spat it all over his too tight t-shirt. “You’re gonna have to take that off now.” Bucky lamented, with a poor attempt at hiding his shit eating grin. “What a pity.”
“Can you not say that stuff when I’m drinking?” Steve groused, but pulled the soda splattered shirt off anyway. “I swear you do it on purpose.”
“Lies and slander.” Bucky said, innocently. “Anyways, back to my ass.”
“You are an ass.”
“You love my ass.” He shot back. “It’s obvious,” He read, “That Bucky’s inability to sit still during his interview with Wade Wilson was due to the fact that he’d spent the night with Steve’s,” He paused for effect, “Steve’s monster cock shoved so far up hi-”
“Stop talking!” Steve said, lunging for the laptop and ending up sprawled over Bucky, hands grabbing at air as Bucky lifted it over his head.
“It gets better!” Bucky grinned. “There’s even a debate about who’s giving it to whom, and how, and… Steve, there’s porn look-a-likes.”
“I’ve seen that.” Steve admitted, wriggling a little, reminding Bucky that his smoking hot boyfriend was draped over his lap and it had been a few hours since they’d crawled out of bed. “It’s not half bad. Wanna go back to bed and I’ll show you how it goes?”
Bucky blinked. Then grinned.
#Starbucksiscanon