Chapter Text
When you’d first moved into the small brick apartment complex on Brooklyn, you didn’t really care much about meeting the neighbors as you shoved box after box into your apartment. You didn’t have much, but it was an enough. Plus your parents had been kind enough to give you the spare, overstuffed couch that had been in the down stairs living room.
The bed you owned had been the same queen bed frame from when you were twelve years old, making the metal frame a little over a decade old but she still worked great. The furniture you’d had was limited but it helped you settle in nicely. The apartment was cozy, the rooms decorated in various shades of browns, whites and greens. It was home.
You’d painted your bedroom a light purple and the wall space in your kitchen was a soft yellow color to remind you of home. Your nana’s kitchen had been yellow too. The pictures displayed in various places around the room held memories from your eight grade year to last Christmas, documenting your life.
You’d only recently returned from an extensive study in Egypt studying the newest fossil remains they’d discovered. You’d been gone for a year and had spent your last Christmas in shorts and sweaty tank tops; you hadn’t been prepared for a New York winter.
Egypt was hot and humid and you’d tanned fairly well after the original burn of it all. Plus, it had been enlightening; you’d managed to find yourself among the sand and the bones and the laughter shared among your fellow students and professors.
You’d been entirely at peace when you came and while you still were, it was an uncomfortable change to go from that to this in a month. You knew you could manage fine, you just missed it all. You missed the freedom, the opportunity and the overall feeling that being away from home gave you.
The striped scarf your mother had given you was wound tightly around your neck and a black beanie was pulled over your head, the thick black mittens you wore had you fumbling with your keys. The cold had settled into your bones despite the heavy winter coat you wore. The frosty chill of the late morning air had wound its way around the joints of your elbows and knees, making them tense as you shook your head, freeing the loose snowflakes from your tangled hair.
With a huff you gripped your key ring in your right hand, bringing the pad of your left hand to your mouth to tear the mitten off. Your hand was red from the cold as you pushed the gold key into the lock, letting you flood back into your apartment. It was only ten, you hadn’t been away for more than two hours and the orange stray cat that had welcomed itself into your house meowed loudly, stirring the Siamese cat on the couch awake.
Three cats had made their home in your apartment not too long after you had moved it. Frog, the orange cat had came first, then Remus, the tabby cat with a gash in its ear and finally, Greg, the Siamese that had two crossed blue eyes. They all got on well and you’d even bought a cat tree so they’d had a place to relax. In the summer months they’d been free to come and go through the window in your living room but since the snow had started to fall they all remained cooped up in your apartment.
“Hey, leeches.” You greet, pulling the beanie off of your head as your use your boot to close the door behind you. “Causing issues?” You tease lightly, bending at the knee to scratch Frog’s head as he wound himself around your legs in a few lazy circles before slinking back the blue bed nestled under where your tv was mounted.
Leaning back against the door, you used the toe of your right foot to tug off your snowy and wet boot before kicking it to the side as the water made the rubber squeak. Reaching down, you tug off your other boot, tossing it besides the other shoe as you move into the living room; a plastics grocery bag dangling from the crook in your elbow.
“Guess what I brought?” You sing, shaking the bag as you let the mitten you’d torn off drop to the coffee table. Retrieving the pack of PetCakes you’d bought, you smile as the boys purr and blink at you in interest. “Christmas fish cookies!”
Tearing the rip tap off of the bag, you pull apart the elastic and retrieve one frosted pet pastry and chuckle at the silliness of it. “Yikes.” You say with a shake of your head, holding it out to Greg who was lounging on the couch besides you. Lazily he sniffs it before taking it from your hand, happily munching on the cookie. “Good, huh?”
An impatient purr croaks from at your feet, where Frog waits with narrowed eyes; hating to be denied attention and food for another second. “Alright, drama queen, here.” You roll your eyes, tossing the orange cat a cookie before you look around the living room for the last one of your homebody’s.
“Remus?” You call, clicking your tongue to draw him out of whatever hiding place he’d weaseled into. “Remus!”
Hearing no loud yowl in reply, you stand up from the couch, the thick white socks on your feet sliding against the wooden floor as you peek into your bedroom, flicking on the soft yellow light to look for the tabby. “Remy?” You sing out again, shaking the bag to hopefully stir him.
Just as your worry spikes, a soft knock resonates on your front door. Frog cries out loudly, chirping like an alarm as you move for the front door. “Be quiet and eat your cookie!” You scold, unlocking the doorknob before easing it open.
A pair of wary blue eyes greet you, two heavy set brows furrowed over the icy glacial irises searching your face. The glint of metal hits your eye and you drag your gaze downward, to where your third cat is held between two arms, both hands gloved but the left wrist is wrapped in a silver metallic color surprising you.
But you’re more surprised about the cat, blinking up at you as it purrs against the strangers chest. “Remus!” You exclaim in surprise.
“So this belongs to you?” The man asks in a low rumble, his voice gravelly and deep from his chest. It takes a moment but you know you’ve seen him before… he’s the neighbor across the hall from you.
“Yes, he does.” You huff, reaching out to pull the striped cat into your arms, “How did you get out, you little asshole?” You ask in soft voice, scratching the happy cat’s chin.
“He snuck into my apartment a few hours ago, I’ve spent the last hour trying to catch him. I’ve lost a lot of tuna.” Your neighbor admits, swallowing harshly as he glanced between you and the cat; the same look of weary uncomfortableness on his very handsome features.
“Oh god, I’m sorry. He’s such a jerk.” You exhale, turning to drop the cat back onto the floor of your apartment before closing the door most of the way behind you. “I’m sorry about that, he normally only harasses me.”
“It’s fine.” The man replies quietly, leaving an awkward silence between the two adults before you smile lopsidedly.
“You live across the hall, right? I’m Name.” You introduce yourself politely.
“Bucky.”
A few beats pass before you chuckle a little, leaning back against your door with your hand on the knob, “Thanks for bringing back my runaway. I’ll do my best to keep out of your hair, but he’s a wild one.” You joke, pushing the door open. “Have a nice day.”
With a nod of your head, you turn back into your apartment and close the door. Exhaling softly, you feel a flush cover your cheeks as you been down to sweep up the troublemaking tabby into your arms.
“You are going to get me in trouble, Remus.” You tsk, holding him against your chest. “But did you see those eyes? Wowza .”
…
You didn’t see Bucky for the rest of the week, much to your dismay. You’d hoping to get a look at his chiseled face and soft eyes. Despite the grumpy demeanor that seemed to follow him around like a rain cloud, he didn’t seem all the scary. Sure, you’d read all about it. You’d placed him for The Winter Solider as soon as you’d seen his face fully. But he didn’t scare you.
He seemed… just sad, more than anything. And it kind of made you sad too. With it being so close to the holidays and seeing Bucky with such an unhappy demeanor, you’d decided to share a bit of holiday spirit. Which came in the form of a circular tin filled with fresh sugar cookies that you’d made with your mom’s recipe. You’d decorated them shoddily, but you were still happy with how they’d turned out.
It took little over a half hour for you to work up the courage to leave your apartment to knock on his door but you’d done it anyway. So, you mentally patted yourself on the back as you heard him shuffle closer to his front door.
Putting on the friendliest smile you could manage without it seeming creepy, you wait for him to pull it open. His eyes studied you confusedly for a moment before they dropped down to the blue snowflake decorated tin in your hands. “Hello?” He greeted softly, the gravel of his voice heavy as if he hadn’t talked in a while.
“Hey!” You chirped, shaking away any nerves as you extended the tin of cookies. “I just wanted to drop these off as a thank you for returning my cat. Plus I made a bunch so I would have felt a little ridiculous eating them all.”
Bucky hesitated, his right arm obscured by his door as he reached out for the tin with his left hand. “They’re not gingerbread, are they?”
“Ew.” You reaction happened instantly, your nose scrunching up in distaste, an impulse reply that you couldn’t stop. “No, sorry. Gingerbread sucks .”
“That I’d have to agree with.” The super soldier said with a ghost of a smile on his soft lips.
Smiling back, you chuckled slightly, toying with your fingers as silence passed between you two for a moment. Come on, you are a grown adult, why are you making this awkward? You thought to yourself. “They’re sugar cookies, my mom’s recipe, so they’re really good. But I guess I can’t guarantee that mine are as good as hers.”
Bucky nodded, glancing between the tin and you for a moment. “Thanks. I’ll keep it to myself if they’re terrible.”
“I’d really appreciate that.” You say honestly, chewing on the inside of your cheek, “Well… yeah, uh, enjoy and… you know, happy holidays.” You say with a slight chuckle, stepping back with a nervous smile.
God, I need to work my people skills. Bones are so much easier than people.
“Same… to you.” Bucky nodded, his brows furrowing slightly before they relaxed and he closed the door to his own apartment, leaving you standing out in the hallway, like an idiot.
Closing your eyes tightly, you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Stupid!” You curse quietly at yourself before you slink back to your own apartment in embarrassment.
Frog is there to greet you, purring contentedly and demanding attention as you pull him into your arms with little resistance. “Why are people so difficult to talk to, Froggy? Hm ? Why aren’t they easy like you? You always get straight to the point.”
“Maybe I should give up my life as an archeologist and run a cat cafe, huh? Wouldn’t that be the life?”