Chapter Text
In the beginning, Bucky wasn't entirely sure how he had gotten himself into this situation. How he had managed to fuck up so much. With Steve standing in front of him looking just as beautiful and nervous as the first day Bucky saw him. If Bucky thought back hard enough, he could pinpoint the exact moment that had gotten him to this situation. He felt that Natasha had a lot of blame in all this. After all, it was her that had egged him on through the entire thing.
But as Bucky stood before Steve, wondering how the fuck he was going to explain what he'd done, he knew that he only had himself to blame. After all, it was his eyes that had read the letter. His fingers that had hand written a reply. His god damn money that had paid for the stamp, stuck it on the envelope and sent it off with no chance of ever getting it back.
No. This was all Bucky's fault and now he had to deal with the consequences; simultaneously breaking Steve's heart and his own.
Four weeks earlier.
“… And so Danny said I should take it up with Nick and I told her she can take it up the ass… I said she can take it up the ass… Bucky, are you even listening to me?”
Bucky jerked his head up and looked at Paul blankly. “Huh?”
“I was telling you a funny story and you weren't even listening.” He stated, looking slightly pissed off. But only slightly.
“Sorry. I zoned out. I'm so fucking tired today.” Bucky sighed, returning to his slumped position over his desk.
“Nat keep you up all night?” Paul asked knowingly, complete with nudges and winks.
“Dude, really?” Bucky looked at him and rolled his eyes.
“Just trying to cheer you up. We still have one more hour to go. Would be nice if you were a bit more awake.” Paul grumbled before his eyes lit up. “Your boy will be in soon.”
Bucky straightened up and couldn't help but smile. “Oh yeah, I forgot. It's Monday.” He said happily.
“How do you forget it's Monday? It's the first day of the week.” Paul shook his head, shifting on his feet as the phone started ringing. Bucky and Paul both reached for the phone eagerly, desperate for something to do. Paul beat him to it and practically sang into the reciever.
“Goooood afternoon, Westpac Glenfield, how can I help?” Paul said, slapping at Bucky who had started silently mimicking Paul, holding a pretend phone to his ear. “No, the banks will be closed this weekend… I believe most banks are closed on the weekends, unfortunately… Uh- yes, the ATM's will all be up and running… No it's- they're computers. There-… No, there's no one inside them feeding the money through… Yup… Just machines… All right… You have a good day, Ma'am.”
As soon as the phone was back in the holder, they both burst out laughing, bent over and struggling to get air in their lungs. “Oh my good god.” Bucky gasped, clutching desperately at his sides.
“She sounded about in her eighties, bless her.” Paul said gleefully. “Oh man, that has just made my day.”
“Same here.” Bucky grinned, wiping the stray tear from the corner of his eye.
“Yours just got better.” Paul said, nodding to the front doors where the love of Bucky's life had just walked in.
“Oh, there is a god.” Bucky raised his hands dramatically in a 'hallelujah' way before dropping them to his sides to become professional again. The tall blonde man walked in, looking around casually as he got in line. He spotted Bucky staring and smiled at him, prompting Bucky to blush and look away as fast as possible.
“Go talk to him.” Paul elbowed him in the ribs.
“No.”
“Why not?” Paul elbowed him again. Harder.
“Because, I just need to take a moment to admire the view.” Bucky said, tilting his head to take in the man's beautiful ass.
“You're disgusting.” Paul shook his head. “Objectifying the poor man like that.”
Bucky snorted. “As if you don't do it to every damn woman that comes in wearing a skirt.”
“Touche.” Paul commented, keeping silent after that, deep in thought as if he had never realized just how many women he objectified. Bucky was secretly hoping this was a big enough revelation for him to be at least slightly more respectful towards women. He wasn't the worst guy out, and Bucky got along with him, but occasionally he would make an extremely derogative and sexist joke. Bucky liked a laugh just as much as the next guy, but as someone who had a tonne of strong female figures in his life, he could only pretend to laugh so much before he had to call Paul out on his bullshit.
Bucky stared dreamily at the man's back, taking in the tight jeans, the back muscles in the too tight black tee that had tour dates for some band that Bucky didn't know. He wished he knew. He wished he knew everything about this man. Except he didn't. Because he was too chicken shit to go and talk to him.
For the past eight Monday's, he'd come in at four o'clock on the dot to deposit the cash into his work's account. Bucky could remember that first Monday like it was yesterday. He'd come in with his boss looking nervous as hell at the responsibility he had been given. Wearing the same jeans and a bright blue t-shirt to match his eyes. Bucky had been coming out of the staffroom and had almost walked into him. That had been it. He'd been gone after that.
Every Monday afternoon was the highlight of Bucky's life. His friends knew. Natasha, his flatmate, knew. His god damn parent's knew. It was ridiculous. Bucky knew that if he didn't do something then someone would. He was beginning to panic that Paul was going to do something. Every Monday he would do his best to get Bucky to talk to the man but to no avail. Bucky would either become busy or just outright refuse.
“Seriously, Buck, if you don't go say something, I will.” Paul sighed. I'm sick of seeing you pine.”
“Paul, please don't do anything. I'm begging you.” Bucky looked at him seriously.
Paul raised an eyebrow at him and before Bucky could stop him, he had darted out from behind the desk and was rushing over to the deposits desk. He quickly whispered to Danny, the attendant at the desk, before nodding at her knowingly and returning to his station next to Bucky.
“What did you do?” Bucky stared at him in shock, his eyes darting over to Danny again. The man had almost reached her. There was only one person to be served before him. Bucky started to panic. What if Danny was going to tell him? Except wouldn't Paul just automatically tell the man himself? It would be faster and more direct.
“Just watch. You're going to talk to him.” Paul said simply, trying not to smile.
The man reached the desk and started talking, holding up the cash bag from his work. Danny smiled at him apologetically, talking and pointing to the couches near Bucky's counter. Fuck. The man turned around to look at the couches before looking back at her, probably asking why the fuck he had to sit down and wait. Danny was shaking her head, pointing at the couches again.
Bucky quickly turned away as the man turned around and left the line, walking to the couch and sitting down with a huff. He was so close to Bucky, it would be so easy for Bucky to just start talking to him. Paul nudged him yet again, raising his eyebrows at Bucky, silently daring him to say something. Bucky let out a sigh and finally did what he'd wanted to do for weeks.
“Long day?”
The man turned and smiled at Bucky weakly. “You have no idea. So busy.”
“Yeah? What do you do?” Bucky asked, willing himself to relax. The man's voice was so velvety and nice. It instantly made his stomach do somersaults.
“I work at the book store around the corner. My boss promoted me and put me in charge of closing up on Monday's so I'm on my own for the last two hours and I have to deposit cash here. For some reason, I can't do that today though. Any idea why?” The man raised an eyebrow at Bucky.
“I- uh- parts of the system are down. Can't deposit cash into business accounts at the moment.” Bucky lied, hoping like hell it was plausible.
“Oh well. Nothing you guys can do about it, I guess.” The man sighed, relaxing further into the couch.
Bucky felt terrible. The man probably just wanted to go home to his girlfriend or whatever. Instead, he was being forced to wait just so Bucky could engage him in a boring conversation and yet, he was being so nice and understanding about it. “Sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? Unless you're the technician and you're fucking around by pretending to work for the bank?” The man raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk on his face as if he knew exactly why he was sitting down talking to Bucky instead of walking back to his work already.
“No, I just- you know, on- behalf of- the bank. I'm uh, I'm sorry.” Bucky stammered out, feeling his face turn a furious red. Behind him, he could hear Paul struggling to keep his laughter in. Bucky blindly kicked his leg out behind him, catching Paul in the shin.
“Well thanks.” The man smiled widely, showing off some perfect looking teeth. God, the man was just stunning in every way.
“So… You got a girlfriend?” Where the hell had that come from?!
“Uh no. Just got out of a long relationship. Kind of. It was a while ago but uh, messed me up...” He trailed off as he frowned. “Sorry. I don't know why I told you that...”
“No! No, it's fine. I don't even know why I asked.” Bucky shook his head, feeling even more embarrassed. “Uh, it looks like you can deposit your cash now.”
The man looked around to where Danny was making kissy faces at Bucky, abruptly stopping and smiling at him. “Nice talking to you.” The man stood up and winked at him before turning his back on him and returning to Danny's desk.
Bucky turned to Paul and half collapsed on the desk, letting out a quiet groan. “Fuck.”
“Relax, you were fine.” Paul laughed quietly. “But um, just so you know, I'm sorry.”
Bucky lifted his head and looked at Paul blankly. “For what?”
“On behalf of the bank, I'm sorry.” Paul's face cracked into a grin as Bucky punched his arm lightly. “Oh, your boy is leaving. He's waving at you and blowing kisses.”
Bucky spun around and almost fell over at the sight of the man's ass in the air as he bent over to pick up whatever he had dropped. “Have I ever told you how much I hate you?”
He stood up and glanced around, his face flushed. He caught sight of Bucky and gave a small wave before high tailing it out of the bank. Bucky let out a loud groan, sending praise up above at the fact that there were no customers.
“Did you get his number then?” Danny asked, leaving her desk to join them at their own.
“What? No. He just got out of a relationship.” Bucky shook his head. “Even if he hadn't, I wouldn't have gotten his number… Come to think of it, I didn't even get his name.”
“Oh my god, you're ridiculous.” Danny shook her head. “Is it almost time to close?”
“Few more minutes.” Paul sighed.
“Fuck. I want to go home now.” Bucky whined, letting out a loud yawn. He stood upright suddenly as their boss and coincidentally, Danny's father, Mike Wheeler walked out of his office, talking into his phone. Danny quickly jumped back to her desk, smiling cheekily at her father. He ended the call and looked at the three of them.
“All right! Barnes and Linctus! You two can go home. Danny? In my office now, please.”
“Ooh, Danny's in trouble.” Paul sang, signing off his computer as Bucky did the same. “Danny's gonna get grounded.”
“Shut up, dick.” She shook her head, following her father back into his office.
Bucky and Paul grabbed their things from out the back before heading outside, locking the door behind them so no one could go in while no one was out the front. They stood out in the street for a minute, checking their phones but not actually talking. Once Bucky had finished checking his notifications, he slipped his phone in his pocket and pulled out his car keys. “I'll see you tomorrow, Linctus.”
“Oh, next time you use an ATM.” Paul said as he backed away. “Make sure you thank the banker inside.”
Bucky burst out laughing and gave him a quick wave before turning around and heading towards his car parked in the parking lot. When he arrived home, the house smelt like garlic, basil and more garlic.
“Jesus, Nat, you trying to kill a vampire?” Bucky called as he walked into the kitchen, dumping the mail and his keys on the counter. Natasha was nowhere in sight so he quickly went to the pot of creamy pasta sauce bubbling away on the stove. He grabbed a spoon and right as he was about to scoop some up for a taste, he got a whack to the back of his head.
“I just stuck half cooked chicken in there. You really wanna do that?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, setting her weapon, the wooden spoon, down on the bench.
“Maybe not.” Bucky sighed, putting his teaspoon back in the drawer.
“So, how was your day?” She asked as he sat down at their little dining table in the kitchen with a groan.
“It was… Different.” Bucky said, thinking back to the man's smile.
Natasha looked at him over her shoulder as she stirred the pot. “Did you talk to him?”
“Yeah.” Bucky smiled.
“It's about damn time.” She smiled. “So? What's his name? When are you seeing him?”
“I didn't actually get his name… And I'm not. I didn't talk to him that much. Just enough to know he's recently gotten out of a rough relationship or some other. Also, I'm pretty sure he's straight.” Bucky sighed, tugging at the tie around his neck.
“Okay, not seeing him, fair enough. But you didn't even get his name? How else are you supposed to slowly make him fall in love with you and get over this past relationship?” Natasha rolled her eyes.
“I'm not. I'm going to be respectful and leave him alone because he's clearly been through or is currently going through some shit.” Bucky said forcefully.
Nat just let out a huff in reply. “Get changed. Dinner's not far away.
*
“Have you checked the mail yet?” Bucky called through to the living room, draining the soapy water in the sink before drying his hands on his pants.
“You brought it in. I thought you would have.” Nat replied.
Bucky picked up the small stack of envelopes he had dropped on the counter earlier and brought them through to the lounge where Nat was watching a rerun of that nights news. “Bill… Bill… Bill… Postcard from Sam… Bill… Wrong address… And yet another bill.”
“Who's this Bill guy? Think he's got a crush on me.” Nat said absent mindedly, bringing up Netflix on their TV.
“Oh ha ha.” Bucky rolled his eyes and sat down next to her. “As if you haven't made that joke before.”
“What did Sam say? Did he happen to explain why he used a postcard instead of just texting us like a normal human being?”
“Uh, he says, New York is great, having a great time, blah blah blah, a postcard is way more fun than some boring text, Natasha. Your name is underlined and in big letters.” Bucky snorted, showing her and grinning at her look of outrage.
What a dick.” Nat sighed, returning her gaze to the TV as she tried to remember what episode of Stranger Things they were on.
“Chapter seven.” Bucky said as he picked up the letter addressed to Greg Jones.
“What's that?” Nat asked, looking at the letter in his hand.
“Dunno. It's hand written. No stamps. No return address. This was hand delivered.”
“Open it.”
“What? Are you serious? That's illegal.” Bucky shook his head.
“And what, you're going to give it back to the sender?” Nat raised an eyebrow. “There might be an address inside. Just open it.”
“If there isn't then we'll have opened it for no reason.” Bucky mumbled, staring at the letter closely.
“Buck, it showed up in our mail box with nothing but a name on it. It's obviously for someone that used to live here.”
“Yeah, hand delivered. It just be important.” Bucky said, setting the letter with the bills. “I'm not going to open it. I'll take it down to reception tomorrow and ask them. They should have past tenants in the system. They can contact him that way.”
“Boring.” Nat sighed. She glanced at Bucky before lunging forward and grabbing the letter, darting out of reach of Bucky's grabbing hand.
“What are you doing?!”
Nat ignored him and opened it up, pulling out the paper to start reading aloud. “Dear Greg, I know I'm the last person you want to hear from probably but I miss you. It's been a year and not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I miss your hair and I miss your smile and I miss your beautiful eyes.” Nat lowered the letter to look at Bucky. “This is riveting stuff.”
“Nat, stop it. That's not yours to read.” Bucky sighed. He stood up just as Natasha gasped and moved away from him so he couldn't grab the letter.
“Oh my god. What a dick.” Nat snorted.
“What?” Bucky asked warily.
“Oh no, this isn't yours to read. I won't force you to read someone else's mail.” Nat smiled at him sympathetically.
“What? Tell me? What did he- no. Stop! You can't read someone else's mail.” Bucky shook his head and grabbed for it, snatching it out of her hands. He folded it up without looking at it and stuffed it back into the envelope.
“You can't take it to reception now that its been opened.” Nat snorted, sitting back down on the couch.
“The hell I can't.” Bucky said, leaving the letter on the coffee table. “Play the god damn episode.”
“Hold on. Drinks.” Nat jumped up and darted into the kitchen, returning with two beers.
“I don't want to get drunk.”
“Then don't get drunk.”
*
“… I miss our nights together, hidden beneath the trees in your back garden. I know I did a terrible thing and I put you in danger, but you have to understand that I never meant to hurt you. All those times when you mentioned your parents killing you if they found out you were gay, I thought you were exaggerating. That night at dinner, they were saying all those awful things about gay people and I couldn't take it anymore. If I had known you would have been disowned from your own family, I never would have told them… This guy is a complete asshole.”
“Right?” Nat grinned.
“You don't just out someone to their parents!” Bucky shook his head and went back to the letter. “Greg, I know I well and truly fucked up but if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, then please write back to me at Apartment 3B, 645 Oakwood Street. There's your address.” Bucky smiled. “All my love and more, Steve.”
“Write back to him. Tell him he's an asshole for outing Greg.” Nat giggled drunkenly, leaning back against the couch.
“No, I should write back and pretend to be Greg forgiving him. That'll serve him right for outing this Greg fellow.” Bucky laughed, falling down onto the couch next to Nat's head.
“Let's do it! We need to go get more alcohol anyway. We can post it then.” Nat said, struggling to stand up.
“Nahh, we shouldn't. We definitely don't need more alcohol, either.” Bucky sighed.
“Bucky, how hard was it for you to come out to me? To your parents?”
“Pretty upset, I believe.” Bucky sighed, thinking back to when he had told his parents. They'd been pretty okay about it, if not shocked.
“Exactly, now think about having a bad reaction from your parents. Getting disowned and never being allowed to see them again. You'd want to get a little revenge on the guy that did it, right?” Nat raised an eyebrow at him.
“Fuck yes, I would.” Bucky sat up a little straighter. “Get me a pen and paper. Let's give this bastard a taste of his own medicine.”
*
“Read it to me.”
“Dear Steve, although I hate to admit it, I miss you too. Even though my anger at you has slowly dissipated over this past year, my feelings for you have not. After living on my own for a while, I have come to realise that I can't live without you. I want-”
“It's too much too fast. We need to make it more like a 'I don't exactly want to talk to you but I don't want to not talk to you.' kind of letter. We can't forgive him straight away. We just want to get his hopes up first.” Natasha said, pacing around behind Bucky at the table.
“Scrap it?”
“Scrap it.”
One hour later, they had perfected the letter, being slightly forgiving, slightly nostalgic and slightly dickish. Bucky had long since forgotten that he hadn't wanted to get drunk and was now happily walking down the road to the liquor store with Nat, the letter tucked into his pocket with a brand new stamp that he'd bought from the convenience store.
“This is so bad.” Bucky sniggered as they reached the post box.
“Just stick it in. Haven't you ever done anything rebellious in your life?” Nat grinned.
“Not really.” Bucky said, his teeth chattering. It was almost midnight and it was freezing. Neither of them had brought a coat, stupidly enough.
“Come on. I want to go home.”
“What, no more beer?”
“Nah. Can't be bothered. Plus, you have work tomorrow.” Natasha pointed out. “And you didn't want to get drunk in the first place.”
“Yeah, great job I did there.” Bucky snorted. “All right. Let's go home. Bye bye, letter.” Bucky dropped the letter into the post box, waving at it as it dropped down. They set off back to their apartment and the letter was forgotten. For exactly one week.