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The thing about research spirals is the hours pass without notice. Yesterday is the first spiral that Stiles has had in years; his school studies never resulted in anything as all-consuming as research for a threat. It probably doesn’t say anything wonderful about him that he’s missed research spirals. While Hydra isn’t the same as Darachs or Dread Doctors, they’re still dangerous on a potentially larger scale.
It was only a few hours after leaving SI that Stiles had to be at work, so he and Bucky didn’t get the opportunity to really talk about anything that happened with Richie or Hydra. They had pizza then slept until the last possible moment that Stiles had to be up to get to the Bronx for work. As it is, he barely made it on time because of train delays.
All night, he’s felt a little hung over from the research spiral. In the past, he just had to go to school after a binge, which never required his full mental capacity anyway. Now that he’s an adult with real responsibilities at work, he’s had to push past the many thoughts in his head in order to focus on his patients.
There’s still one more work night to go before a couple of days off, too, which means he has to prioritize meditation his afternoon so he can clear his mind before work. He’s found that it helps when the memories from the Nogitsune demand attention, so he figures it should help with research spiral hangovers.
“You smell like anxiety and contentment,” Susie murmurs as she stands beside him. “I didn’t even know those two scents could go together.”
“I’m special,” he says, winking at her. “Haven’t you figured that one out yet, Susie Q?”
“No, that’s not happening. What are you, sixty? My tio’s the last person who tried to call me that, and he’s my abuelo’s brother,” she says, giving him a look. “Susie’s already a nickname, Dr. S.”
“Hey, you should be glad that there are songs in tribute to your name,” he says. “There definitely aren’t songs for mine, not even in Polish, which is where my mother got the monstrosity she put on my birth certificate.”
“The mysterious M,” Susie says solemnly, tapping her finger against his name badge. “Dr. M. Stilinski was supposedly the talk of the floor when you started, according to Alicia. Now that you’ve thawed around me, she gives me all the good gossip and hospital history.”
“The hospital refused to let me use Stiles, which is the name everyone uses, so I had to accept the initial or risk them putting the whole name,” he grumbles. “Some stupid rule about legal names blah blah. Funny how they insisted for me, but they let you just put Susie without a last name at all.”
“Oh, poor you,” she says in a mocking tone. “Such hardships being a doctor and having to use your real name. I’ll happily change my name badge to my given name if I get your check deposited into my account.”
“I’m a resident under contract,” he reminds her. “I’d swap you salaries for a RN pay with unlimited overtime opportunities and bonuses during my residency.”
“You’re the dummy who insists on working all of the time. The other third year residents are on three days a week and aren’t forced to take days off,” she says pointedly. “Maybe your new boyfriend will help you get with the program and take more time off.”
“You can’t hang out with Alicia anymore,” he decides. “I don’t need two of you nagging me about my work schedule.”
“Oh, did I miss nagging Stilinski?” Trini asks, approaching them and handing him a tablet. She’s not even five foot tall, but Susie still snaps to attention because Trini commands respect that way.
He figures it’s because she was a doctor in Kolkata before emigrating over a decade ago and being forced to go into nursing because her medical degrees weren’t accepted by the US. Between her and Alicia, the nurses in their area are held to high standards professionally. He’s always liked strong women, so it’s little surprise that they’re his favorites and have been since day one.
“Showing concern isn’t nagging,” Susie says, poking him in the side when he snorts. “I was just telling Dr. S. that the other third years don’t work as much as he does, and maybe his new boyfriend can help him balance better.”
Trini punches Stiles’ arm. “Why am I just now hearing about a new boyfriend? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone, Stilinski. This isn’t the type of thing you should be keeping from your work wife.”
“Alicia already knows,” he says, keeping a straight face as Trini rolls her eyes in a way that makes her whole body move.
“Work mom doesn’t count,” she says in an exasperated tone. “We all know that I’m your work wife, so spill all of the details. Who’s the boy? Does he treat you right? I won’t have someone treating my work husband poorly. I’ll have Rajiv take care of him if he’s no good to you.”
“I’ve missed you,” he tells her, grinning as he bumps his hip against her side. “You need to tell Lewis to change your schedule so it’s always me, you, and Alicia on shift.”
“Hey, I might not be a mom or wife, but I’m at least an annoying kid sister,” Susie points out.
“It’s not Lewis, it’s Luke,” Trini says. “He’s beaten me to the shifts lately when scheduling opens. He’s changing his days more often to fit better with Lily’s new job. I managed to catch several with you coming up, though. I figured out your rotation.”
“Fine, Susie can be a work kid sister,” he decides, rolling his eyes when Susie looks smug. “And I’m glad you got some overlapping shifts, Trini. Lucas is a good nurse, but I can only handle the romantic sap up to a point. He reminds me of my best friend growing up. When he was in love, that’s all he really thought about.”
“Rajiv is a good man, fortunately, but I would not float around here in a romantic daze even if it weren’t an arranged match,” Trini admits. “Now, speaking of romantic dazes, you have a boyfriend.
How did that happen? It’s only been two weeks since we last worked together.”
“Well, you see, when two men start dating and getting close, they might end up deciding to become boyfriends because they’re interested in something more than just a casual fling,” he tells her, lips twitching when she scowls at him.
“I expect to meet him at our holiday gathering,” she says firmly. “Rajiv is an excellent judge of character, so he will determine if it’s a good match.”
“Rajiv is a software developer,” Stiles says dryly. “While he is a nice guy, forgive me for not needing his judgment on whether or not my relationship is a good match. Anyway, don’t we have work to do? This is an emergency department, not a soap opera.”
“Tonight on the latest episode of As the Hospital Rotates, we find out if Rajiv approves of the devastatingly handsome Jay or if Trini and Alicia will band together to remove the man from the life of their favorite resident,” Susie says, speaking in a narrator voice.
“Oh, his name is Jay? And he’s handsome?” Trini smiles smugly. “Good. Our favorite resident needs a good-looking man so there isn’t any needless jealousy.”
“Remind me to give Alicia coal for Christmas for taking the night off and leaving me here with you two troublemakers,” Stiles mutters, looking at the tablet Trini gave him. One thing about their ridiculous antics is that he’s feeling more focused than he has been because he has to be alert to deal with them.
“It’s Alicia. She’d somehow turn the coal into diamonds,” Trini points out. “Or she’d have Molly do it, since she’s the one who works in a lab.”
“And then she’d be sure to wear them every time we work together because she’s smug that way,” he says with a dramatic sigh, hearing Susie’s murmur of agreement because that’s totally something Alicia would do. “Come on, Trini. Let’s go check on exam room six.”
“Fifty-three old Hispanic male with stomach pain and elevated blood pressure,” Trini says, immediately shifting into professional mode. “I ran the standard labs that you always request, so results should be in the chart soon.”
The man ends up having appendicitis, and he’s rushed into surgery. The rest of the night continues from there with two more emergency surgery cases, a heart attack that doesn’t make it, and a broken leg caused from falling off a fire escape sneaking out of a married woman’s bedroom. The heart attack was in his late eighties and passed with his wife beside him, so it isn’t as draining as some deaths they have in the emergency department.
It still puts a damper on the last half of the shift, the way any loss does because they’re meant to save people. Stiles takes patient deaths somewhat personal even when there’s nothing at all he can do to prevent it. It’s like failing in his chosen profession, though, and he moves with a bit less energy after consoling the widow.
The last patient of his day is a six year old girl with a high fever and wheezing. She codes at one point, turning blue as the struggle for air overwhelms her, but they pull her back with CPR. When she’s finally stable, he hands her case over to Dr. Pierce, who is working day shift, and then he goes to the doctors’ lounge.
Instead of getting his stuff together and leaving, he sits down and just breathes. He has to let go of the patient's death because he can’t carry it with him. It’s a ritual he does anytime they lose someone on his watch, and it works for him. There’s already enough guilt in his life with everything he did as the Nogitsune, so he doesn’t need to add extra that isn’t really his burden to carry.
“You’re a very difficult man to get alone, Dr. Stilinski.”
The sound of the northeastern accent is loud in the quiet of the doctors’ lounge. Stiles doesn’t react because he should have no reason to if a normal colleague comes into this space. Instead, he exhales slowly, and he keeps his eyes closed. Victor Wash isn’t a threat to him, after all. He’s faced scarier things and walked away, so some bloated old doctor with a hardon for money and Hydra is nothing.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Wash, but I’m actually in a committed relationship, and we’re both monogamous,” he says simply, taking another deep breath and holding it for a count of five.
“You think you’re amusing, don’t you?” Wash asks, and Stiles listens closely to the sound of footsteps to determine where he’s walking. His magic is beginning to thrum under his skin, a warm tingle that’s just waiting for his command.
“Not really, but several hundred students voted for me as class clown senior year of high school, so they seem to think I am,” he says after he exhales. The patient he lost is no longer at the forefront of his mind, but he’s unable to truly relax because Wash is here for some reason.
“I haven’t figured out yet if you’re highly intelligent and playing a skilled game or if you’re naive and foolish enough to not realize that you’re playing at all,” Wash says, his pompous tone grating even worse than what he’s saying.
“I’ve never been particularly fond of games,” he says, keeping his head straight, still not bothering to open his eyes to look at Wash. If Wash is the type he thinks he is, it’s going to irritate him a lot to basically be ignored. “Too many rules and structure for my taste.”
“Where is Anastasia Volkov, Dr. Stilinski?” Wash asks, obviously tired of trying to get under his skin already. That wasn’t long at all. Stiles has managed to go even further with his verbal sparring with geriatric hunters beating him, so Wash is disappointing. Even Mr, McCall manages to make it two or three rounds before becoming frustrated.
Now, he finally opens his eyes and gives Wash a confused look. “I didn’t have a patient with that name last night, Dr. Wash. You might want to check with Dr. Moore or Dr. Iyuma. It was really busy, so I didn’t keep up with other doctors’ patient lists.”
“I haven’t seen her in weeks, which is highly unusual considering her investment in my current research study,” Wash says, walking closer.
“I’m sorry, but I have no idea who you’re talking about, Dr. Wash,” Stiles says. “If you’re missing a person, you should file a police report if you haven’t already done so.”
“Anastasia was interested in you, Dr. Stilinski,” Wash tells him. “I advised her that you were young and intelligent, which means you likely have a price.”
“Whoa, wait a minute now,” Stiles says, trying to make his eyes wide. “I might just be a resident with a lot of debt, but I’m not selling my body to the night. You should make your friend knows that I have a significant other who doesn’t like to share.”
Great, now he has Roxanne in his head. If he starts humming about red lights, Wash is going to have a fit.
Wash sits down on the sofa that’s beside Stiles’ chair. He leans forward, and Stiles gets the scent of butterscotch stuck in his nose. “The last time I saw Anastasia, she was planning to meet with you about a file she believed was in your possession. No one has seen her since.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Wash, but I don’t remember meeting anyone named Anastasia,” he says, adding a tone of regret to his voice. “I don’t know anything about a file, either.”
“You’re skilled,” Wash murmurs, looking impressed. “I believe you completely, your openness and earnestness are on point. It’s most fortunate that I saw you leave the restaurant with her that morning because I’m almost having doubts after that act of yours.”
Stiles arches a brow and plays at confusion. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t me with some strange woman. Even if I was single, I’m too paranoid to just go off with someone I don’t even know.”
“Anastasia is the nice member of her little group,” Wash says, obviously deciding that Stiles isn’t going to actually admit to anything. Instead, he starts talking like they’re both in on the joke, so to speak. “She plays politics and makes connections. She’s the only one I’ve dealt with previously, so I didn’t realize until recently just how dangerous her colleagues can be.”
“Maybe her dangerous colleagues have something to do with her disappearance,” Stiles suggests. “You could go to the police and have them investigate.”
“Investigating themselves would be redundant, Dr. Stilinski,” Wash says bluntly. “No, I’ve gone a different route. I have insurance that will keep me safe from them, but I’d like to know where Anastasia is because the entire operation is being jeopardized by her colleagues and local administrative staff for her little organization.”
“I wish I could help you, Dr. Wash, but I don’t know where your friend is,” he says honestly, not that he’d tell Wash even if he did know. “If the police are corrupt and involved in whatever you’re part of, you could find someone who isn’t part of it if you feel like there’s dangerous people involved.”
“I’m not part of it,” Wash denies, looking flustered at the very idea. “I’ve been experimenting because it’s what we do, Dr. Stilinski. We are powerful in our areas of expertise, and I have been extremely well compensated for my research. I had no idea—-“ He trails off and looks human for one split second before it’s gone, and he’s the schmoozy jerk again. “If you’re as smart as you seem to be, you’ll hide that file and keep the knowledge of whatever happened to Anastasia as insurance in case you come to their attention.”
“If I knew something about a dangerous situation that could affect innocent people, I’d be doing my best to try to protect them, not myself, Dr. Wash. I swore an oath when I became a doctor, and I take that seriously,” he says, letting some of his anger sharpen his tone. “You swore it, too. Primum non nocere. Money and research means nothing if you don’t follow that.”
“I was young and idealistic at one point, Dr. Stilinski,” Wash says, smiling wryly. “You’d be surprised how quickly that oath can be broken for the right price. Perhaps you would choose primum non nocere, but I have far too much to lose to become idealistic once again.”
“That sounds like excuses to me, Dr. Wash,” Stiles tells him. “Something to make you sleep better at night when you know your actions have caused harm. I’d rather be idealistic and poor than rich and scared of the consequences of what I’ve done to get there.”
There’s a moment of silence before Wash stands up. He reaches over and pats Stiles’ on the shoulder. “You seem to be a good man, Dr. Stilinski,” Wash says thoughtfully, like he’s surprised that anyone is honorable when he’s actually the exception, not the norm. “Heed my warning about that insurance so you’re able to live a long life following your oath.”
Stiles watches him leave the doctors lounge, the door quietly closing behind him. Only when he’s alone, does he lean back in his chair and let out a deep breath that he’s been holding. He’s been waiting to exhale since Wash showed up and initially put him on edge. His mind is racing, and he wonders what Wash originally planned to speak to him about in the beginning because it’s been weeks now, so things have obviously changed.
After taking a moment to calm his mind, he gets up and goes to his locker. It’s cold outside, he puts on his gloves, coat, and scarf before grabbing his bag. When he walks through the emergency department, one of the day nurses, Rachel, stops him.
“You’re not going outside without a hat, Dr. S.,” she insists. “You’ll catch your death, and then Alicia will have my head. Wait right here.”
“Do I not get a say in whether or not I want to wear a hat?” Stiles mutters as she walks away.
“Be glad they care, boyo,” Lewis says, walking over and ruffling his hair. “If you’ve got the nurses on your side, this job is cake. So, what’s this I hear about you dating someone?”
“Gossiping is against hospital policy, Dr. Lewis,” Stiles points out, rolling his eyes when Lewis snorts.
“Like that ever stops anyone,” Lewis says. “Just be careful that you’re new datemate isn’t just interested because you’re a doctor. Too many people think doctor automatically means a lot of money, and they get bitter and petty when they realize that surgeons are the only ones with fancy sports cars usually.”
“Speaking from experience?” Stiles asks, hearing the grumble in Lewis’ words.
“Too many times, Stiles. Too many times,” Lewis says with a sigh, shaking his head as he goes to an exam room.
“Here you go, Dr. S.,” Rachel says, handing him a navy knitted hat. “Gino always has a dozen in his locker this time of year, so he said you can have it. His grandma knits for fun.”
“Thanks, Rachel. Let Gino know that I appreciate it,” he says, taking the hat and pulling it on so it covers his ears. “Am I free to leave now?”
“Looking good, Dr. S. Your new relationship seems to agree with you,” she says, winking before she walks away laughing.
“Bunch of gossipy gossips,” he mutters, stepping outside and feeling a rush of frigid wind blow across his face. He hunches his shoulders forward slightly to help protect himself from the wind and starts walking to the subway station. He’s supposed to meet Bucky at his house so they can actually have that conversation they didn’t get a chance to Jane last night.
The subway is crowded, which makes sense seeing that it’s almost nine on a weekday. He has his earbuds in, Roxanne playing on his phone because he got that ear worm and needs to get rid of it, and he ends up with some random 80s playlist going for the twenty minutes it takes to reach the station by Bucky’s house.
When he gets close, he sends a text to let him know he’s almost there. The wind today is too ridiculous to stand outside waiting for Bucky to get the door open. As it is, Bucky’s leaning against the doorframe looking incredibly sexy in his loose sweatpants and long sleeve shirt that fits right across his chest and shoulders.
“You look exhausted, Doc,” Bucky says, giving him a concerned look.
“I was going to say that you look hot, but I take it back,” he says, walking up the few stairs and leaning in for a kiss. Bucky smiles against his mouth before he returns the kiss, manhandling him into the foyer and shutting the door.
“Your nose is cold,” Bucky murmurs when the kiss ends. “You should have caught a cab instead of walking.”
“Right, because I’m some delicate flower who can’t walk in the cold,” he says, giving Bucky a look. “It’s not even that cold, Buck. Mostly just the wind, which I didn’t feel on the platform or train.”
“Let me fret over my boyfriend’s health, Doc,” Bucky says with a smile. “You might not be a delicate flower, but I can still wish you’d taken a warm cab instead of a cold walk.”
“Yeah, but you could have also greeted me with sonnets about my dashing good looks instead of saying I look like shit,” Stiles says. He holds up a hand. “Don’t. Telling someone they look exhausted usually means they look like crap.”
“I didn’t say you look like shit,” Bucky reminds him. “Exhausted means you must have had a long night at work and might need to rest.”
“Yeah, it was pretty long,” he says, following Bucky to the elevator. “I’m not that tired, though. I need to fill you in on Richie and Wash before we consider sleeping.”
“Wait, what does Wash have to do with anything?” Bucky asks. “You just said Richie was being followed, which is why you got Stark involved.”
“Have I mentioned how much I love this elevator? I could write odes to it,” he murmurs, rubbing his face against Bucky’s back when he starts to yawn.
“Great, now I have even more competition for your affections,” Bucky says dryly. “Nat told me that you threatened to replace me with Stark’s glass project board already.”
“I mean, it is a sexy board,” Stiles says, raising his head and meeting Bucky’s amused gaze in the mirror. “But she might be right about the fact that it won’t keep me warm at night.”
“Might be?” Bucky snorts. “Nice to know I’ve got my uses, Doc.”
“Yeah, you do. You keep me warm and safe,” Stiles says, snuggling against him. “Nat already told you about Richie, didn’t she?”
“Yep,” Bucky says, moving his hand to rest on Stiles’ hip. “Including the fact that you knew there was a clinical trial that might be connected to the dead kid and Hydra.”
“I mentioned that to you,” he reminds him, following him off the elevator when they reach Bucky’s floor. “I said Richie had a potential lead.”
“You’re real good at saying stuff without really saying anything at all,” Bucky points out. “I didn’t realize that you already knew what the potential info was and that he planned to put himself at risk to get more details.”
“But I did tell you that Richie had a lead,” he says. “I just didn’t get that detailed because I wasn’t entirely sure if there was anything to it. There are tons of those stupid studies all around the city, after all.”
“Don’t try to play me, Doc,” Bucky says. “I’m not upset about it, but we need to work on making sure we’re communicating accurately because I would have made an effort to get someone to keep an eye on Richie because Hydra is something that needs to be taken seriously.”
“I wasn’t playing you,” Stiles says, making a face. “I’m not used to trusting someone with all of the information. It’s always been smarter to keep things to myself until I know they need to be shared because my pack thought I was overly suspicious and didn’t necessarily trust my gut unless I had proof.”
“I’m not Scott,” Bucky tells him. “You remember telling me that about you and Steve? It goes the same way for me and Scott. If your instincts are telling you something, I want to know about it. There’s no judgment here, and it’s okay if your wrong sometimes.”
“What if my first instinct is to kill, then ask questions?” he asks, giving Bucky a curious look. “Being wrong wouldn’t be good then.”
“That’s where I come in—making sure you don’t randomly kill someone who doesn’t deserve it,” Bucky says, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “My friendship isn’t conditional, Doc. Neither are my feelings for you. I mean, I saw you murder a half dozen men in an alley, and all I wanted to do was protect you. And kiss you.”
Stiles tugs him closer, leaning up to kiss him. When he pulls back, he gently moves his thumb along the curve of Bucky’s jaw. “Wash spoke to me this morning,” he says. “He asked me about Stasia, and he said something about having insurance to protect himself from her dangerous colleagues.”
“Wait, what?” Bucky blinks. “Doc, you can’t kiss me until my mind’s goo then start taking Hydra like that. I need a second to process.”
“A gooey mind sounds like a serious problem,” he teases. “I didn’t realize my kisses had that side effect.”
“They’re dangerous to my mental abilities,” Bucky says solemnly.
“I’m lucky that you don’t mind living dangerously then,” Stiles says. “Let me know when your brain is back online so we can talk about Wash.”
Bucky grimaces. “I don’t like that he sought you out like that,” he admits. “I know he’s been lurking around and acting creepy, but it’s more serious when he engages and actually mentions Volkov by name.”
“I’m not too happy about it, either.” Stiles walks over to sit on the sofa, shifting when Bucky sits down beside him. “He didn’t threaten me, Buck. If anything, he seemed scared. Like he’s playing outside of his league now that Stasia is gone.”
“She’s political,” Bucky says. “She makes the circuit, bribing judges and making donations to people in Hydra’s pocket. She’s very smooth and charming, which tends to disarm her targets and makes them malleable.”
“Wash said that the local administration to her organization is dangerous,” Stiles says. “I’m guessing that they aren’t charming or smooth because he seems to feel like he needs some kind of insurance to stay safe from them.”
“A city this size has multiple Hydra cells working on small-scale schemes,” Bucky says, pulling Stiles against his chest and shifting them so they’re lying on the sofa. “If we’re actually dealing with some kind of biological weapon, that isn’t just small-scale anymore. That’s big time super villain shit, Doc.”
“Which means the players are probably not willing to fluff his ego and praise him the way someone who focuses on the political side would,” he says thoughtfully. “Whatever has happened, it’s got Wash jumpy and taking the risk of confronting me about Stasia.”
“It means he could throw you at them to keep himself safe,” Bucky says bluntly. “If he’s connected you with Stasia, who they all know has vanished, and he wants a distraction, you’re his next plan.”
“Maybe,” Stiles says, frowning as he looks at Bucky’s ceiling. “I think he used to be a great doctor until his ego got the better of him. Fame and fortune are too tempting for many people to resist, and I got the feeling that he didn’t actually realize the extent to which his research is being used.”
“He’s not a victim in this,” Bucky reminds him. “He’s made his own choices, and no one gets involved in something like this without realizing the most likely repercussions of the research. He knew people would die, and he chose the money over his conscience.”
“He broke our oath,” Stiles says simply. “He isn’t a victim, and I know that. Our oath has changed over the centuries, but the core principles are always there in some way. The one that Wash and I discussed was primum non nocere, and he said that I’d be surprised at the price it takes to break it.”
“First, do no harm,” Bucky says, making a thoughtful noise. “That’s the rough Latin translation, isn’t it? I haven’t had to use my Latin skills lately, so they’re a bit rusty.”
“You got it,” he says, deciding now isn’t the best time to admit that Bucky knowing Latin is a turn on. “I’m going to be more alert moving forward because I don’t know if he’ll give them my name or not. I’m not concerned about them coming after me, obviously, but I’d rather you and Nat crack the case instead of me being forced to defend myself from them.”
“Richie told Nat that he was worried you’d been taken out because the hospital is infested,” Bucky tells him, his lips pressing against his neck. “We know about Wash, but there could be others there who are involved with this.”
“Okay,” Stiles says, moving his hand to Bucky’s and squeezing gently. “I won’t trust anyone at work then because Wash isn’t someone that I’d have ever expected to be involved in something like this. I’d like to think that Alicia is trustworthy, but her wife is a scientist who works for Roxxon Energy Corp. Trini isn’t about to get mixed up with Hydra, and her husband, Rajiv is a software developer for a small company. Lucas has only been around for a couple of years and seems too smart to be part of Hydra, but his wife is involved in pharmaceuticals, so maybe. Susie’s a werewolf, which means she’s most likely someone I could trust because most supernaturals would avoid anything like Hydra.”
“You don’t have to suddenly distrust everyone you work with, Doc,” Bucky says, stopping him before he can analyze the next coworker who comes to mind. “Just be smart and cautious, which you generally are anyway. I can’t see anyone doing something like attacking you at work, so just continue to avoid socializing with any of them.”
“Yeah, we don’t usually do that,” he says. “We’re a work family, but it stays at work. Our annual holiday dinner is the only time we get together outside of the hospital, and it’s just a few of us. Alicia actually asked me to bring my new boyfriend, who also seems to be the hottest gossip in the department right now.”
“You’ve told your work friends that I’m your boyfriend?” Bucky asks, his hand gently squeezing Stiles’ hand. “You really mean it, don’t you?”
“I told you that I’m all in, Buck,” he says. “I did use the name Jay, though, because I know some of them are into the whole superhero worship thing.”
“Yeah, you did,” he says softly. “I guess I’ve been expecting the shoe to drop or whatever that stupid saying is. Things have been going surprisingly well, and it just seems too good to be real.”
“Five fingers,” Stiles murmurs, tapping each finger against Bucky’s thigh. “It’s real, and we’ll handle any shoes that drop because we’re in this together.”
Bucky kisses his neck and moves his arm around Stiles’ waist, holding him tight. “Do you want something to eat or to go to sleep, Doc?”
“Nah, I’m good right here for now,” he says, enjoying the feeling of Bucky behind him and around him. After the loss of a patient and Wash’s odd warning, he likes feeling safe and protected even if he knows that he’s actually more dangerous than Bucky is. “Maybe we can take a nap later, after you tell me what Nat told you so I can fill in any blanks she left.”