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“You listen here, you sarcastic fuck, I know you’re enjoying this, let me in my fucking account!” Bucky yells at his laptop. He grabs a handful of skittles and pours them into his mouth, grumbling as he hits the refresh button at least six times.
Is there a problem with your internet connection?
“Oh, pass the blame, real mature! This is on you, pal!” He spits at the mocking text with the annoying little dancing pineapple which kept grinning at him. Why does an email service have a pineapple logo anyway? And why does it have to dance? It starts doing the worm and Bucky nearly punches his screen.
“Oh, it’s a real party, huh, you little punk!” He yells at the pineapple.
“Who are you yelling at?” Natasha comes into the living room in her pyjamas, perching next to him on the sofa and folding her legs under herself.
“The fucking dancing pineapple.” Bucky snaps, not looking up from the screen.
“Ah, of course,” Nat says and the smirk is audible. Bucky looks up and narrows his eyes at her from the other side of the sofa.
“I need to get into my account and it won’t let me, it’s saying I need to prove my identity but my proof apparently isn’t good enough,” He growls, trying to reset his password yet again.
Clint pads out of the bedroom and vaults the back of the sofa and curls around Natasha. Natasha barely moves but Clint is somehow wrapped around her with his limbs sticking out all over the place.
“S’going on?” Clint mumbles from somewhere in the general vicinity of Natasha.
“Bucky’s just mad that a pineapple is a better dancer than he is.” Natasha explains and Bucky’s head snaps up sharply.
“Nat,” Bucky says, betrayed and Clint snorts.
“Wouldn’t be hard.” He laughs and Nat cracks another smirk. Bucky huffs some more and tries to put more distance between him and the two traitors.
“Some friends you are,” He mumbles, prompting them to laugh at him some more.
A bleeping noise on his screen makes his teeth start grinding. It’s a pop up saying they’ll block his account if he submits false information once more.
“Oh you smug son of a bitch!”
“James,” Natasha admonishes and he mumbles an apology, despite it being incredibly ironic that the morally ambiguous suspected super spy tells him off for his bad language. Still, his Mother raised him right.
“What’s wrong with you?” Clint yawns, poking his head into sight. Bucky huffs again, slamming the enter button hoping it’ll overpower the incessant beeping.
“I need to get onto my account and these asshats have locked me out and now are saying I don’t know enough information to log back in. What more information do they want, my fucking favourite song, my scarring childhood backstory?” Bucky scowls and then actually hisses at the screen which makes Clint bark with laughter.
“Man, I hope so.”
“Aha!” Bucky crows as the screen finally lights up into something different.
“Wait, what the fuck?” He glares at the screen as it suddenly starts listing what must be thousands of questions, weird ones too.
“Are you kidding me?”
“What now?” Nat asks though she’s starting to be pulled up from the sofa by a sleepy Clint.
“There’s this new questionnaire and if I answer all these questions it’ll let me in,”
“So hallelujah, now you’ll quit your bitching?” Clint mumbles tugging childishly on Nat’s arm to go to bed.
“No, there’s hundreds and they’re about random shit – listen to this one, What’s classier, a chandelier or candelabra? Oh my God, what’s your assault weapon of choice in a food fight? What the fuck are these questions?”
“No way,” Clint laughs and scuttles over. Natasha groans and folds her arms.
“Just call up their support people on the video chat feature thing and get them to shortcut it, now give me back my boyfriend,” She demands and Clint smirks.
“She’s right, there’s no way you’re answering all of these, like, wait look at that one, ‘Which font makes you a scumbag, if you can’t guess, you are that scumbag’, that’s the actual wording of the question!” Clint laughs obnoxiously and Bucky rakes his hands through his hair in aggravation.
“Dude, you had to have written these yourself. This is absolutely some dumb shit you would say.” He cackles and Bucky shoves him off the edge of the sofa.
“Oh God, this email has all of my work drafts and blueprints, fuck, I can’t lose them, it’s literally my job.” He moans.
“James, why would you–”
“I know! Irresponsible, bad idea, I know,” Bucky interrupts waspishly.
“Seriously, call the people, get it sorted.” Clint chimes in.
“Will they answer at this time?” Bucky mumbles, already searching it.
“I thought they were 24 hour, that’s like their thing, right?”
“So the pineapple never sleeps, huh?” Bucky snarls.
“Buddy, you’re starting to freak me out, sounding a bit crazy.”
“Hey! I’m not crazy!”
“Clint, bed, now.” Natasha says simply and walks out.
“That’s my cue.” Clint mutters, quickly scrambling up to follow her out and the lights all switch off.
Bucky finds the call support button and turns on the lamp so hopefully he won’t look like a serial killer on the webcam in the dark. He clicks the little phone icon and the pineapple starts dancing aggressively as a little loading icon.
“Pineapple,” Bucky grumbles.
Suddenly a man pops up on the monitor, attractive dark hair, dark eyes, kind of angry looking in a way that perks Bucky’s interest a little.
“This is RedStone Services, how can I help?” The man recites, still frowning.
“Yeah, hi, I have this massive questionnaire and–”
“Speak slower,” The guy snaps and Bucky frowns at him.
“Right, okay, there’s this big questionnaire–”
“Is your problem related to your wifi connection, in which case you need to–”
“No, it’s not, it’s not my wifi, if you’ll listen–”
“Reset your router and–”
“Dude, will you listen–”
“Sir! If you’re unwilling to co-operate I cannot assist you. I hope this has been helpful, have a nice day.” The guy practically sneers and then hangs up. Bucky sits there in shock before letting out a sound of pure frustrated rage.
He slams the call button down again, not usually the type of guy to give customer service workers a hard time but he wants to give this particular guy a piece of his mind. Oh, and the pineapple is dancing again and isn’t this night just a complete cosmic joke at the expense of his life.
“You know what, fuck you pineapple!” He yells at the screen.
“What?” A stranger’s deep voice suddenly pops up with a different guy on the screen, staring at him with some concern but a tiny hint of amusement.
“Shit, sorry, the pineapple, it hates me...” Bucky trails off as he catches sight of the guy. He’s blond, blue eyes real bright in the light of the monitor and he’s gorgeous. Bucky’s still pissed off but he’s slightly less disappointed.
“Right,” The guy laughs, not unkindly.
“What can I help you with, sir?” And okay, that works more than it should.
“Well, you’re already helping more than the last guy.”
“Was someone rude to you?” The man asks looking worried, like seriously worried. Bucky can’t respond for a minute he’s so taken aback by the sincerity before he shakes himself and laughs.
“Uh, yeah, this angry looking guy, sure he’s just having an off day but he came off as a real dick.”
“Oh, that may have been Rumlow, yeah, between you and me, he’s not having an off day.” The guy says conspiratorially and startles a laugh from Bucky who sits up straighter on the sofa, propping his laptop up on his knees.
“He your competition? Because you’re already winning by a sky mile.” Bucky says for no reason whatsoever but the blush it prompts from screen guy is absolutely wonderful.
“Well thanks, but for the record I’m being really unprofessional, um, I’m Steve and what can I help you with this evening?” The guy, Steve, asks, a playful smile on his lips and okay, maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Right, okay, so don’t judge me too harshly but I somehow got locked out of my email account and now this giant questionnaire is staring at me with all these random dumb questions I’m pretty sure I set for myself and I’m really hoping you can help me out of my own stupidity.” Bucky finishes and Steve laughs a little in polite surprise before nodding and smiling with amusement.
“Okay, at the top of the questions does it say ‘Personalised Exclusivity Questionnaire’?” Steve asks and they both already know the answer.
“Yeah,” Bucky winces.
“Is that bad?” Steve laughs loudly and then looks around him, like he’s embarrassed he laughed so loud which shouldn’t make Bucky feel triumphant but it absolutely does.
“Not bad so much as unavoidable, I’m afraid.” Steve starts apologetically.
“It’s our most thorough form of account protection that is usually only used by people with highly sensitive information or... extreme paranoia,” Steve finishes and he eyes Bucky carefully, like he’s trying to suss out if he’s some conspiracy nut case or something.
“Or a drunk idiot, fantastic,” Bucky allows and it earns him another sweet smile. Sweet.
“You think you did this drunk?” Steve asks and Bucky shifts where he sits, raking a hand through his hair with an embarrassed laugh.
“Yeah, it’s on the cards, besides there’s so many questions here, I’d have to be drunk or I’d have got bored.” Bucky mumbles, scrolling through the list and scrunching his eyes in a repressed cringe at the sight of ‘Be real with me, have you ever shat yourself?’ This is going to be hell. Drunk Bucky is even more insufferable than sober Bucky – according to Natasha.
“Wait, so, when you’re drunk, rather than being all rock star and trashing a hotel room, or something equally as cool,” Steve raises his eyebrows ironically and Bucky snorts.
“You write impossibly long and complex questionnaires... for yourself... about yourself?”
Bucky covers his face with his hands, groaning and feels a little swell of pride as Steve can’t help a long loud laugh and has to cover his mouth keep quiet, still giggling. Yes, giggling.
“Shut up. I can’t adult, it’s official, I’m a mess, thank you for confirming it,” Bucky mumbles, lowering his hands slightly, knowing he’s probably turned red.
“No, really, that’s amazing, there’s so many worse types of drunk than that, in fact, that must be on the list of brilliant drunks.” Steve consoles, kind smile even wider and Bucky can’t help but get excited that they’re more or less just chatting. Is that normal for a call support guy – is he just one of those extra-helpful nice ones, or is he really bored? Whatever. He’d take this over that Rumlow dick any day.
“Well, thanks. But, does this mean I have to answer all of these questions to get into this account?” Bucky asks with a pit of dread sitting in his stomach.
“Not all, just as many as you can correctly and they’re a little forgiving with the phrasing due to how vague some of the questions can be, which is nice.” Steve says and okay, that’s doable. There must be a bunch he can guess.
He pauses, nodding for a second. Does this mean Steve can’t help him anymore? Is this the part where he’s supposed to thank him and hang up? He really, really doesn’t want to. His night has been significantly better since he started talking to Steve, he feels less hopeless about everything. Still, Steve has work and he can’t just hand hold Bucky all night as much as he might want that. However, just as he goes to open up his mouth Steve beats him to it.
“So, shall we start taking a look at these questions?” Steve says and it looks like he’s already pulling them up and settling in. Bucky can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips at this.
“You’re okay with this, helping me with them, I mean,”
“Sure, it’s my job.” Steve says simply and, right, of course. Idiot, Bucky.
“Plus, you’re the most fun I’ve had in ages.” Steve tacks on absently as he taps away and Bucky raises an eyebrow, happy at this new information. Happier still when Steve seems to realise what he’s said and turns bright pink.
“To talk to, about work things,” He clarifies in a fumble and Bucky laughs loudly, prompting a grin from Steve.
“Shut up, jerk.” Steve mumbles, hunching closer and tapping away on his laptop.
“Sure thing, punk.” Bucky laughs, enjoying himself and the way Steve narrows his eyes mock-angrily at him. Then Steve’s expression clears as he finds what he’s looking for.
“Ah, here we are, I have them on my screen.” Steve says and Bucky feels the bottom of his stomach start to abandon ship as Steve starts scrolling through the questions. Every few seconds his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a couple of times he turns red and once he even brings a hand to his mouth.
“Oh my God,” Steve whispers, eyes wide as he stares at Bucky’s questions.
“Oh Christ, please, stop, please, I was young and foolish.” Bucky rambles, watching Steve’s face, hoping he doesn’t think he’s a complete freak. Suddenly, Steve splutters in uncontrollable laughter.
“If you could fuck a sunset, would you?” He wheezes and Bucky slams his head down against his keyboard and Steve has tears in his eyes and is clutching his chest as he laughs harder.
“I fucking quit,” Bucky mumbles into the spacebar and Steve’s trying, not very hard, but trying to regain self-control.
“No, it’s fine, it’s poetic, really, beautiful,” And then the bastard starts cackling again and Bucky glowers at him.
“I hate myself.” Bucky despairs in harmony with Steve’s relentless laughter.
“Well I love you – this is going to be so much fun.” Steve huffs and Bucky turns red again. Shit.
“Come on, I’ll be the question master, we’ll whiz through them.”
“Somehow I highly doubt that.” Bucky grumbles, looking at some of the particularly humiliating questions.
“Well, some might need context, or... justification.” He coughs down another laugh at the look Bucky gives him.
“Right, well, is it okay if before we start I get myself a coffee, I’m going to need it.” He can already feel the headache coming, Steve smiles and nods.
“Thanks, one minute, Steve.” Bucky adds, trying to the name out on his tongue and Steve clears his throat, pink again. Nice.
He absolutely does not skip over to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine. Whilst he waits for it to get ready, he can hear Steve’s voice saying goodbye to someone from his office, it should be weird to Bucky, but weirdly, it’s not. He smiles at the sound and then rolls his eyes at himself. He’s barely had one conversation with this guy and he has a crush. Pathetic.
Getting a chill in his light t-shirt and joggers, he goes to fetch his light blanket from his bed. Gathered in a blanket, he grabs his coffee and remembers happily he also has skittles somewhere on the sofa if he gets hungry. He walks around the sofa, setting the coffee down on the little table with the lamp on it and slumps back onto the sofa, pulling the blanket over his shoulders and snuggling in, before pulling the laptop back onto his knees .
Steve seems to give him a quick once over before cracking a tiny smile.
“Warm enough?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m a snuggler.” Bucky says thoughtlessly.
“Noted.” Steve says just as thoughtlessly and then scrambles.
“It might be a question,” He throws on the end and Bucky laughs but doesn’t call him on it because it actually might be. Oh God.
“Right, let’s do this.” He says, steeling himself and Steve nods with a mock-salute and clears his throat.
“Just so you know, my colleagues have all left so I may laugh very loudly, please don’t take my complete lack of professionalism personally.” Steve grins and Bucky laughs, nodding. As if he would ever not want to hear that laugh.
“Mr Barnes,” Steve starts and that is doing things it probably shouldn’t to Bucky’s tummy involving butterflies and other unhelpful shit. Steve doesn’t notice, he’s already laughing even when he’s trying to be serious.
“What animal is inherently... shady as fuck?” Steve asks and his smirk is illegal. Bucky sighs, grabbing his coffee for a deep scalding glug. Strap in, Barnes.
“Platypus.” He answers seriously.
“What’s a platypus ever done to you?” Steve remarks as he types in the answer.
“Dude, it’s a mammal that lays eggs, what’s up with that, what’s it hiding?” Bucky says suspiciously and Steve is shaking his head at him.
“Next.”
“Worst trait of former partner?” Steve asks carefully and Bucky freezes up. Shit.
“Uh...”
“We can go to the next one,” Steve hurries, an apology colouring his tone. No, Bucky can do this. It’s in the past. He’s not ashamed of what he got through.
“Emotional manipulation,” Bucky manages and distracts himself with another deep gulp of coffee. Steve, saint that he is, only frowns and types it in, recognising boundaries when he sees them. Good man. Then he smiles again and Bucky lets out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding.
“Ross Geller’s two best lines from friends?” Steve is grinning and Bucky joins him, this isn’t so bad.
“My fajitas!” Bucky gasps loudly in character and Steve dissolves into laughter again as he types.
“Second one?”
“Pivot,” Bucky says and Steve raises an eyebrow.
“Pretty sure that’s not how he said it,” Steve mumbles and Bucky laughs incredulously.
“Dude, are you serious?” Steve just shrugs and pointedly looks away. Bucky swallows his pride and sucks in a deep breath before letting out a huge cry of –
“PIVOT!” He yells desperately and Steve is actually choking on his laughter now and Bucky can’t help but join him.
“James, don’t make me come in there!” Comes Nat’s voice from the other room and Bucky winces.
“Sorry, Nat,” He yells back. Steve goes quiet too, looking a little apologetic but still amused.
“Shit, sorry, did I wake up your girlfriend?” Steve tries and he sounds less comfortable than before. Bucky just snorts.
“No, I woke up my incredibly dangerous and lethal best friend who’s currently in bed with her boyfriend.” Bucky fills in, happy to dispel any doubts about his relationship status to this guy if it means he can flirt more. Steve looks decidedly happier already which is a plus.
“Okay, next question.” Steve pulls them back to the point and Bucky snuggles down further into the blanket, warming his hands with his coffee mug and did he imagine Steve mumbling ‘cute’ or was that real?
“Best thing about the hit John Newman song ‘Love Me Again’,” Steve snorts and Bucky narrows his eyes.
“Hey, it’s a good song, and the answer is absolutely the passion in his voice when he sings. Like, wow, I usually get bored with belters or the angry singing but he sounds like he’s trying to force everyone to feel what he’s feeling and I do!” He gushes and Steve nods, not mocking anymore.
“Hottest thing a guy can do at the end of a date? And it says, ‘the real answer not some respect boundaries bullshit – though that is important’.” Steve asks, amusement in his tone and Bucky can feel his face heating up again, fantastic.
“Interesting how you aren’t rushing past this one,” Bucky snarks, deciding if he’s going down, he’s taking Steve with him. Unfortunately, Steve plays along rather than floundering. Damn it.
“It’s important we get you back into your account, I need to be thorough.” Steve smirks. Smug bastard. Bucky sighs and rakes another hand through his hair.
“Okay, but I’m trusting you to not rip my entire life apart with all of this information,” He warns and Steve laughs disbelievingly.
“What, is the hottest thing a guy can do hacking your social security number?”
“No, actually it’s slam me against a wall and kiss me until I can’t breathe or think straight.” Bucky counters challengingly and yeah, that shuts him up. Steve, now pink and silent, purses his lips and nods as he carefully jots down the information and then clears his throat.
“Good to know,” He mutters as he types.
“Is it now?” Bucky pokes playfully and Steve smirks, still typing.
“Down boy,” He mumbles.
“Okay, next question. What is your secret hunch on how you will die?” Steve leans back in his seat, looking content and Bucky hums happily as he stretches out on the sofa, taking a long sip of coffee and putting the laptop on the footrest so he can lean backwards, more of his torso now in shot.
“Definitely death by Natasha or my own stupidity.”
“I get the lethal best friend – how would you being dumb make it happen? Prone to picking fights with wrestlers, or what?” Steve asks and he takes a long drag from a water bottle and no Bucky does not stare at the long line of his throat as he drinks.
“Uh, no, no, I’m just clumsy. It’s weird, when I’m focused, I’m so careful and exact but it’s like as soon as I switch off from work mode I am a risk to myself and anyone in a mile radius.” He explains, frowning at how worrying that actually is.
“Oh, what do you do?” Steve asks whilst he works and then seems to come back to himself.
“Oh, you don’t have to answer that, that’s me asking so you’re under no obligation to tell me personal in–”
“Steve, it’s fine, this is probably the least invasive and embarrassing thing you’re going to learn about me tonight.” Bucky cuts in, easing Steve’s nerves. And Bucky gets it, Steve needs to be professional and he doesn’t know Bucky that well so he doesn’t want to overstep but in reality there’s very little Steve could do that would piss Bucky off enough to report him or something stupid like that.
“I’m a technical engineer for Stark Industries, and I do a bit of freelance work too,” He explains and Steve huffs out a breath.
“Wow, that sounds really impressive. So you’re actually a closet-tycoon then?” Steve asks and he doesn’t look intimidated but he does look a little embarrassed, which Bucky instantly doesn’t like. As if Steve’s embarrassed at their comparisons.
“No way, sounds way fancier than it is. What do you do?” He asks and Steve takes a few seconds before he seems to process that Bucky’s actually asking about him. Maybe that breaks protocols or the rules and Bucky considers taking back his question only he really wants to know more about Steve now.
“Uh, well, what do you mean, obviously this is my job,” Steve mumbles with a forced laugh.
“Sure, but what do you do, like free time, other work, what do you enjoy?” Bucky asks, figuring he may as well just go for it now. Steve huffs a little overwhelmed but not unhappy which makes Bucky think he might just have a chance.
“Oh, well, I, art, I mean, I draw and sketch and I paint sometimes and you know, doesn’t really pay the bills, so,” He finishes and Bucky nods understandingly.
“Well, I’d love to see some, I bet you’re really good.” Steve looks at him like he just said he’d ended world hunger.
“What?” He questions self-consciously, praying he’s not freaking Steve out.
“Oh,” Steve startles, not realising he had been staring.
“Nothing, just, no one really asks about me or anything like that, let alone asks to see some of my art.” He laughs like this is incredible that someone would take an interest in him and Bucky scoffs.
“Well, then everyone else is an idiot.” Bucky says softly and Steve’s eyes turn fond and warm and it’s very quiet for a minute until Steve’s eyes turn down and he’s smiling bashfully and damn, that’s fucking cute.
“Is it against any rules for you to email some art to me or?” Bucky asks and Steve’s head lifts quickly.
“You actually want to see it?” Steve asks and Bucky looks at him oddly.
“Yeah, of course, I like looking at art, wish I had any artistic talent. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, no pressure.” He throws on a friendly smile, not wanting Steve to think he’s pushing him into anything. He knows some people are very precious and sensitive about their work and don’t like strangers looking at it.
“I like you.” Steve says decidedly and Bucky stutters a nervous happy laugh.
“Well, good, same goes to you, would you believe it,” Bucky inwardly curses his own awkwardness.
“So you’re up for emailing some?” Bucky asks, not wanting to add any pressure but also really wanting to have some form of contact for Steve, God, he sounds like a creep. Surprisingly, Steve rolls his eyes and laughs at him. Bucky frowns.
“What?” He smiles, confused.
“Email you?” Steve raises an eyebrow.
“Some irony there,” He adds, gesturing to all around him and it suddenly clicks in Bucky’s head and he winces and laughs at his own idiocy.
“Right, yeah. I guess you’ll have to write down my number then.” Bucky sighs like it’s all a big inconvenience and Steve laughs happily, nodding. Bucky tells him his number and his heart leaps when Steve actually writes it down and then repeats it back to make sure it’s right.
“Okay, back to the questions.” Steve says, but he can barely keep a smile off his face now. Bucky just nods, downing the last of his coffee and sliding down sideways so he can prop his head on a cushion.
“Yikes, worst memory.” Steve says and it’s sweet that he’s looking at Bucky like he’s ready to skip past this with a mere look but Bucky’s tougher than that, he can handle this.
“It’s a tie, day we got the letter saying Dad was killed in action,” He says slowly, not looking at the screen and playing with the frayed edge of the patchwork blanket. He hears Steve hum sympathetically but again, he doesn’t feel the need to say anything which Bucky really appreciates.
“And the day I lost my arm.” He adds and if there’s going to be a deal breaker this might be it. He glances up and sees Steve nodding and then freezing and glancing up at Bucky with big sad eyes and it makes something inside of Bucky feel hollow and full of warmth all at once.
He rolls up his sleeve and holds up his metal prosthetic to the camera and it glints in the low amber light, the interlocking slates of metal actually looking kind of less scary in the warmth. He sees Steve looking, entranced but not overtly staring, just taking care to really see it. Bucky usually clams up when people first see his arm but he feels calm and relaxed and it’s alien and kind of amazing.
“It’s badass,” Steve says and Bucky looks to see an unassuming kind smile looking back at him. Yeah, Steve is a good guy, it’s official.
“Thanks,” Bucky grins and Steve goes back to typing.
“Least favourite household chore?”
“Fucking vacuuming, fuck me.” Bucky moans somewhat indecently just at the thought and Steve is so red now. Huh. Something to experiment with. Steve clears his throat and carries on.
“Worst way you’ve ditched a date?” Steve asks and his eyes light up. He sits forward, resting his hand on his chin and Bucky whines and buries further into the blankets.
“For the record, I’m not proud of this!” He tries and Steve cackles evilly.
“Oh, this should be good.”
“I... I pretended to have memory loss.” He mutters and Steve fucking erupts.
“You fucking what?!” He announces and Bucky’s eyes open wider at the curse that somehow sits right in Steve’s mouth. He’s laughing and Bucky can’t help but laugh even though his face is burning from embarrassment.
“Listen, the guy was the worst, kept saying vaguely racist or sexist things, yelled at the waitor, trying to touch me up under the table,”
“Ew,” Steve scrunches up his face.
“Right!”
“So anyway, he goes, ‘So Bucky, shall we get out of here?’ And of course, I go into full on fucking panic mode and–”
“Wait, Bucky?” Steve asks and Bucky realises all of his forms must say James on.
“Oh, shit, yeah, that’s me. It’s James Buchanan Barnes but, it’s Bucky, only Nat calls me James. Or my Ma when I’ve pissed her off,” He explains sheepishly and Steve nods.
“Right, Bucky, okay, carry on.” He smiles and Bucky is getting so much warmth from the guy.
“Right so I panic and I just turn to him and look all angry and confused and say ‘Who the hell is Bucky?’ And with some pretty Oscar-worthy acting, I bolt.” He admits.
“Okay, that’s totally allowable, if a little... creative,” Steve allows with a chuckle.
“Yeah, that’s me, creative,” Bucky says sarcastically and Steve snorts, typing away.
“Right, we have some quick fire easy ones here.”
“Fire away, captain.” He salutes and Steve rolls his eyes.
“Favourite word in French?”
“Quelquefois!” He says happily with a chuckle and Steve tilts his head questioningly.
“Fun to say.” Bucky mumbles defensively and Steve laughs and continues.
“Favourite quote?”
“I am not in the habit of keeping company with beasts.” He hisses, leaning closer to the screen with a glint in his eye and Steve gives a quick, ‘oh, nice’ as he types it all down.
“Who loves the Arctic Monkeys more than James B. Barnes?” Steve laughs at the wording and Bucky puts a very solemn look on his face to answer.
“No one.” He says seriously and Steve stops for a second and then bursts out laughing when he realises that is actually the answer.
“Hot or cold?”
“Cold but never freezing.”
“Biggest turn on?” His voice sounds a half-octave higher and Bucky smirks sleepily.
“Neck kisses,” He says and chuckles at Steve’s little squeak he tries to mask.
“Biggest turn off?”
“Rudeness, or being overly aggressive.” Steve nods approvingly.
They continue this way, though Bucky occasionally cuts in and makes Steve answer the question too, saying it’s only fair. He’s delighted that Steve plays along with no arguments. They go through the questions for another hour and a half and it’s nearing three o’clock in the morning and Bucky is exhausted. His face hurts from smiling and he’s trying to remember as much of the information he gains about Steve as possible and keeps smiling at the reminder that his number is tucked into Steve’s pocket.
“Okay, I’m going to see if I can submit this and shortcut the waiting process so you can get into your account now, that way you won’t have to wait anymore and there won’t be a review period on your account.” Steve says and Bucky doesn’t know how he looks so alert when Bucky is the one who had the coffee and is sinking further into the sofa. He’s aware that he probably looks ridiculous on Steve’s screen but he can’t bring himself to care too much.
“M’kay. Thanks, Stevie.” He mumbles, his eyes drooping.
“This might take a few minutes, so if you want to...” Steve trails off and Bucky nods.
“No worries, I’ll play solitaire.” He says and Steve smiles in thanks and then goes to work, the tapping of his fingers on the keys remarkably soothing. The occasional hum of frustration or approval, even more so.
Bucky plays solitaire on his phone for a minute or two before his eyes slide shut and his breath and body are in that perfect relaxed, comfortable state. He sighs happily and lets his mind play back his and Steve’s conversation and vaguely hopes he doesn’t talk in his sleep.
“Bucky?” Steve’s voice makes Bucky slowly open his eyes and there’s some faint light poking over the horizon now and the clock reads 4:25 and Bucky groans.
“Shit, sorry, you should’ve yelled at me to wake me up, you been working this whole time?” Bucky slurs, a sleepy haze still hanging over him.
“Don’t be stupid but yeah it’s okay, I’m used to night shifts by now, rookie,” He smiles playfully and Bucky smiles, letting his head drop back onto the cushion, happy to wake up to Steve’s smile, even if it is on a screen.
“Right, sorry, sensei,” He would attempt a wink if he were not sure he would end up looking like an idiot with no facial control as he’s so tired.
“You’re good to go, account’s all sorted, you have complete access now and if you have any other problems you’ll be routed to me directly.” Steve says helpfully.
“Sweet.” Bucky says happily and then yawns like a housecat.
“You should get some sleep.” Steve says gently and why is that so nice?
“I already did.” Bucky protests but he can already feel himself falling.
“It’s okay, we’re done now, and it’s an unreasonable time for normal people to be awake.”
“I’m not normal,” Bucky forces himself to look at Steve and he looks a little more dishevelled than he did when Bucky fell asleep, like he’s been pulling at his hair.
“Like your hair,” Bucky mumbles without thinking. Steve turns pink.
“Thanks,” He says but he pats at it a bit and Bucky laughs.
“Okay, I’m going to go and stop bothering you now.” Bucky says but doesn’t move.
“Yeah, finally, take my thousandth hint why don’t you,” Steve says with a playful glint in his eye and Bucky grins.
“Okay, night, Steve. And just so you know, you’re awesome and I like you a hot– lot!” He stammers and Steve laughs, amazed.
“I’m going, from this video call and from this plane of existence, I’ve embarrassed myself enough. Good night, punk.”
“Night, Buck.” Steve says with a dorky wave.
“Dork.” But Bucky waves and hangs up the call. He closes the laptop and feels strange about doing it. Like he should have said more to Steve whilst he had the chance. Is this one of those things he’s going to regret, like he missed his moment? Unease sinks into his stomach and his mouth twists unhappily. However, after a few minutes his phone beeps at him and he grabs it, remembering his unfinished solitaire game when he sees he has a text from an unknown number.
When you’ve slept and returned to this plane of existence – coffee? Steve
Bucky does a shuffley blankety dance of victory where he is laying on the sofa before snuggling back in and programming Steve into his phone so he can reply.
Bucky: Sure, if you bring your little headset
Bucky: It’s cute, makes you look like Britney
Steve: It’s Britney bitch
Bucky: You are art
Britney Bitch: You are sleep deprived and an idiot
Bucky: I bet you say that to all the boys
Britney Bitch: No, just the ones who tell me their life story in the form of embarrassing questions at 2am
Bucky: Jerk
Jerk: You love it, punk
Bucky: No comment
Jerk: Sleep, then coffee?
Bucky: Fine, but I’m not moving
Jerk: Good, you look fucking adorable
Bucky punches the air. He snuggles down further, excited to wake up and meet Steve in person. Fucking adorable – you’re damn right.