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Steve’s autobiography is released on a Saturday. He publishes it with no fanfare, which leaves Natasha deriding him for thinking he’s Beyoncé or someone actually cool like that. Steve retorts that he’s plenty cool, and the reviews trickling in seem to agree. Amusingly, BuzzFeed is the first mainstream media outlet to post a reaction to his work, and the title of the piece is Eight Shocking Things You Learn From Reading Captain America’s Autobiography. In the subtitle, the staffer admits to reading the whole book in one sitting, which Steve chalks up to a success.
Bucky snorts upon seeing the title, and gripes that it’s for folks who won’t bother to read the book themselves. Sam’s the one who actually has the webpage pulled up on his laptop, so Bucky looms over his shoulders (ignoring Sam’s complaint that it’s unnerving) to relay the article to Steve in his most mocking tones.
“Number eight: he has a sense of humor.” Bucky shoots Steve a forbidding look and adds, “Yeah, a god-awful sense of humor. So don’t get any ideas, Rogers.”
“Amen,” says Sam.
Steve, grinning with amusement, holds up both hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not. Don’t worry.”
Bucky seems unconvinced but returns to the piece. “Number seven: he’s socially liberal. Like, really. Gender equality. Sex education. Gun control. He supports all of the above and more!”
Sam shakes his head, “Stop the presses. Steve Rogers is a reasonable human being.”
“There are many people who’d argue with you about that,” says Steve, pointing unsubtly at Bucky.
Bucky widens his eyes in faux innocence, as though asking ‘who, me?’ He continues: “Number six, he has issues with his body image—just like you!”
Sam looks awed. “Is that—are they actually trying to make Steve relatable?”
“Number five: he’s not just a pretty face.” Bucky pretends to study Steve’s appearance. “Now that’s debatable.”
Steve chucks a pillow at Bucky from the couch, only to have Bucky bat it away midair without even glancing at it. “Hey, what’re you saying?” Steve complains, purporting outrage.
“I’m saying you’re dumb and dumb-looking.” Bucky tries to stay solemn throughout the jibe, but a grin breaks out on his face when Steve mimics an expression of betrayal.
“No foreplay while I’m in here, gentlemen,” Sam says, with the resigned air of a schoolteacher who knows his admonishing falls on deaf ears.
Bucky’s smirk reveals that he’s reveling in Sam’s pain. “Number four: he has no illusions about the propaganda machine and his role in it. This man is a downright cynic. And he says flat out that one of his main objectives for writing this book was to take control of his narrative.”
“Hear, hear,” chimes in Sam.
“Number three: he’s a sassy son-of-a-gun. For reference, see chapters one through twelve.” Bucky contemplates Steve skeptically. “I still can’t believe you managed to wring twelve chapters out of that brain of yours.”
“You wound me, Buck. You really do.”
“Guys.” Sam’s forehead is lined with long-suffering. “You disgust me with your cutesy bickering. Please refrain from making me kick you out of the living room.”
“As if you could, Wilson,” Bucky goads.
Sam raises an eyebrow and turns in his chair, calling out toward the hallway in a singsong voice. “Na-tasha!”
Her irritation is clear in the response that floats back to them. “If I have to pause this episode of Scandal to break up a fight, you will be sorry.”
At this, Bucky looks appropriately cowed. “Okay, I see your point.”
They both turn back to the laptop.
“Number two,” reads Bucky, “he knows what Netflix is!!!”
“Seriously?” Steve asks. “That’s what they decided to put as number two?”
“Do we need to take a moment of silence to despair for mankind?” Sam jests, not bothering to hide his snicker. Bucky makes a move as if to shove Sam from his chair, but Sam dodges him with a laugh.
“And number one…” Bucky pauses, and from the look on his face, Steve knows the last one is going to be a doozy. “He’s in love with his best friend, a.k.a. James Buchanan Barnes, a.k.a. Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. the Winter Soldier, a.k.a. your favorite sidekick and the stuff of your nightmares.” Bucky grimaces before continuing, “No, we are not tin-hatting. If you don’t believe us, read the book yourselves—”
“I don’t think they need to read the book. They can just review a history of Steve’s reckless decisions,” Sam cuts in.
“—but it leaves us wondering: Has Bucky read this? Does he feel the same way? DOES HE LOVE THE CAPTAIN BACK?” Bucky looks up from the article with a baleful expression. “Have I read this?” he parrots scornfully. “Pal, I’ve edited, fact-checked, and critiqued the hell outta this thing. I practically co-wrote it!”
“All right, buddy, calm down,” says Sam. “Do you want me to call Ms. Potts so you can demand a press conference?”
Bucky glares at him. “You think you’re funny but you’re not.“
“As long as I’m funnier than Steve, I’ll take it.”
Steve shakes his head at the both of them. “What did I do to deserve you two?”
Bucky looks at him for a long moment before directing him a megawatt grin. Since recovering from the brainwashed assassin phase, Bucky has become prone to these split-second transitions from expressing nothing to emoting everything—and according to Sam, it’s downright disturbing.
“But darling,” Bucky croons, “you looooooove me. You want to have my babies. You want to be Mrs. James Barnes—!“
Bucky cackles as he dodges another pillow, and then takes off down the hallway, only to be tackled to the ground with the full force of Steve’s vengeance.
“I’ll show you Mrs. James Barnes,” Steve threatens, but Bucky just laughs, trying his best to squirm out of Steve’s grasp.
“That didn’t even make sense,” Sam mutters to himself, looking heavenward for guidance. He shuts down his laptop, but not before turning off his email notifications. They’ll all be in for a lot of media attention soon, but at least they’re prepared for it. Sam had been joking about requesting Pepper to call a press conference, but he knows that Bucky’s going to be asked to give a statement in the near future. Pity the reporters who’ll ask him dumb questions, Sam thinks to himself.
James Barnes is going to enjoy the hell out of controlling his own narrative… as soon as he finishes wrestling with his ‘wife’ on the ground.