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“Bucky, how about we use that move I taught you last week?” Yelena’s voice comes through the intercom.
Bucky raises an eyebrow. A terrorist fires a blasting arrow his way; he catches it with one hand and hurls it back.
“Now?”
“Yeah,” Yelena sprints low across the open ground and dives behind a crumbled wall. “I’ll cover you.” With a burst of motion, she rises above the edge, taking down two masked men with rapid-fire shots.
Ducking his head, Bucky sneaks to her side, his back pressed to the wall, rifle in hand.
“I don’t think it’s appropriate.” He aims at the enemy’s base and takes out their machine guns. “Or safe, for that matter. Maybe later. I got a new sheet. Your favorite color.”
Olive green, that is. He’d spent an entire morning last week standing in front of his bed, boring his eyes into his phone. Squinting at different pictures before looking suspiciously at his bed, trying to figure out if they'd match his bedroom’s overall aesthetic.
Yelena rises again, fires in quick succession, and ducks back down before a bullet could snap past her.
“What are you ta-” She reloads, then pauses, realization dawning. “The training move!” Her gun pointing skyward stressing her point, she turns to Bucky with a stare.
But her look is only met with his cheeky grin, dust and blood matted in his hair, his eyes crinkling.
Yelena is confused for a second, then her face relaxes into a smirk.
“Ha. You got me.”
As she creeps toward a terrorist waiting in ambush, she adds, “but a deal is a deal.”
“Guys,” Walker cuts in with a groan. “You do realize we can all hear you, right?”
Yelena turns around and waggles her eyebrows, exchanging a smug glance with Bucky.
They switch to the private channel.
“I get off work at nine.”
“I’ll be there,” Bucky replies, propping his gun on the wall to provide cover while Yelena slips forward. “Why are you still doing that part-time?”
He is referring to her piercing apprenticeship at a local studio.
“It’s fun,” She answers, creeping up behind a man and strangling him. “Maybe I’ll get my piercer license someday.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Bucky says. A man aims at his head; he drops him with a single bullet between his brows.
“Have you thought about getting a piercing?”
“No. I’ve had enough body modifications to give any additional thought to that.”
“Fair point.”
“You?” Bucky watches Yelena through the dusty air, picturing her with piercings. His pulse quickens slightly.
“Oh, I’ve thought about it,” she answers casually, voice calm, despite pinning a man to the ground before knocking him out with an elbow to the face. “A lot, actually. When the whole thing with the Red Room first ended, I really wanted a septum ring, mostly to not-so-subtly signal to the girls.”
“Babe,” Bucky assures solemnly, “the girls know. Even Walker once called you a scary lesbian.” He adds after a beat, “turned out not scary and not a lesbian.”
Yelena huffs a laugh. “Turned out you are not just a red wine drinker, either.”
Bucky blinks.
“Wait, wait, I know this one.” He cups his chin, searching his memories. “I like the wine and not the label?”
“Bingo.” Yelena tips her head, even though he can’t see it.
They have been on a mission to watch iconic sitcoms. Schitt’s Creek. Community. Cuddling on the couch with a blanket over them. Tacos and milkshakes. Into midnights until they drift off. It is a nice change of pace for both of them.
“Do you still want to get a septum ring?”
“Someday, probably,” Yelena shrugs. “But currently, I’m thinking a helix piercing.” She thumbs her ear cuffs, can’t wait to replace them with the real thing.
“That’s the one on your upper ears, right?”
“Yep. Also, a lip piercing.”
“Hot,” Bucky comments, expression unwavering, his tightening grip on the gun betraying him.
“And… nipple piercings,” Yelena adds, voice raspy after wrestling the guy.
Silence settles in the channel.
Yelena taps her earpiece.
“Well?”
Taking in a deep breath before opening his mouth, Bucky replies, “I’m trying very hard to save my reaction for tonight. God, imagine all the things I could do with them.” He pulls the trigger a little harder than necessary; a sprinting figure collapses on the ground.
Yelena’s lips curl into a self-satisfied smile.
“Maybe you don’t have to.”
Bucky fires again. Probably by accident. “You’re kidding.”
Finally reaching the man lurking in the dark, Yelena launches herself onto his back, strangles him with her legs till he passes out.
She gets up and runs a hand through her hair, fingers finding the zipper of her suit, pulling it down just a bit, looking at Bucky’s direction, gaze unreadable.
“I guess you’ll have to find out.”