Chapter Text
“Sam!” the yell cuts through the unison of the instruments until the guitar strings stopped their vibration, the bass found its setting, the pianist’s hands dropped to their hips, the eyes on the clipboard now on the two, and the drumsticks stopped hitting the cymbals. “How many times will I tell you?” Bucky asked, his tone sharp and exasperated, his hands on his hips tightening as he now faces Sam who was pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t give us a rolling fill before the chorus!”
Sam’s hands on the sticks loosened for a fraction of a second before he met Bucky eye to eye. Natasha didn’t look at them, now being surprisingly interested in her chord sheet. Tony let out a low whistle, though not commenting, his face being able to piss people off. Steve was truly concerned, his eyes flipping between the both of them as he sighs. “Bucky, it’s okay.” Steve assures as he steps closer.
Bucky doesn’t face him, his eyes straight on Sam. “I’m sorry, alright?” Sam mutters, though he doesn’t look apologetic. “Can we go again?” he says dismissively. Bucky’s jaw tightens as he forces himself to turn and face his keys once more. Steve’s eyes furrowed, yet sighs in a manner where it’s evident he’s been dealing with this all week.
Natasha faced Steve with a knowing look before Sam started counting. “Clack, Clack, Clack, Clack.” the closed hi-hats yelled before they all played in unison once more. Natasha leaned on her mic as her fingers produced on the bass’ strings.
”I…know a place, it’s somewhere I go when I…” her voice drifted inside the studio as they continued their rehearsal.
The bands unison went on that night with surprisingly better flow than the other days, leaving Bucky remotely satisfied, Steve relieved that he only had to break up a few verbal and witty battle between the band’s pianist and drummer that night, Natasha already packing her instrument, quickly trying to avoid de-briefing, Tony calling out “Anyone up for drinks?”
Sam, though, still felt Bucky’s words throughout the week more than he probably should, nodded, needing the cool off. Natasha was already by the exit, stumbling through the wires as Steve calls after her. “Where are you going?” He asks, placing his guitar inside its case. Nat looks behind her shoulder.
“Can’t go out for drinks tonight, boys. I have a date.” she murmurs.
“A date?” Steve asks his voice breaking, far too quickly, to be excused as a simple and casual inquiry.
Tony chuckles to himself as Natasha remarks. “Yeah.” she faces Tony, her body fully turning. “Stark, drive me?” she asks. Tony nods as he places his clipboard, mostly filled with random criticism fueled by pettiness and sarcastic remarks. “I’ll be back for you guys.” he says before heading to the exit with Natasha.
Steve, who was now, murmuring to himself about how he had just asked in a way he might have sounded, too curious. He laid back on his seat, his head lolling backwards on the plastic as he opens his phone. Bucky notices Sam’s scrounging face, as he unplugs the wires of his keyboard. Sam sat low, tightening the resonant of the snare, refusing to meet Bucky’s eyes before Bucky speaks up. “I’m sorry.” Bucky murmurs, sitting down on the edge of the stage as he sighs.
The corner of Sam’s lips quirks up unconsciously as he walked over, to sit in a normal distance. “What was that?” He teases as he met Bucky’s eyes. “Don’t make me say it again.” Bucky says lowly, yet his lips form a grin as he looks straight forward. “I just need to earn a few more bucks, we’re short on funds.” He breathes, his tone more serious now.
Bucky’s family wasn’t as well off as his bandmates, having founded this group with completely different reasons than his best-friend, Steve, who was in for the fun of it. This has been going on for the most part of his high-school years, but have been worsening recently, with the incoming reality of him approaching college.
“You do know we’re always here to help you if it’s about money right, Buck?” Sam assures, his eyes on the floor. Steve looks up, his eyes on the two, a small smile on his face as he leaves them be. “Not when I can still handle it.” Bucky smiles.
“Guys, curfew.” Steve cuts in, making the three of them stand up in unison, to prepare and leave.
Meanwhile, Tony and Natasha had nearly reached the place. The 1975 was singing from Tony’s speakers before he lowers the volume to speak. “Where’d you meet this guy?” He inquires, glancing from her and towards the road. “The street.” She huffs. “I didn’t know you went for homeless people now, Nat.” Tony countered, making her roll her eyes as she laid back. “Asshole. Just drop me off so you four can get drunk.”
Tony hit the brakes just in front of a dimly lit restaurant and bar, the entrance filled with either couples who intend a nice dinner date or individuals who find themselves in need of a drink. “Need a condom?” Tony asks, opening the glove box to show a box of Trojan. Natasha huffed as she patted her purse.
“You really think so low of me?” She teased. “Hey. I’m the one who picks your stumbling ass up at four in the morning in front of run-down motels.” Natasha laughed before opening the door to leave. Tony’s face softened as he adds. “Be safe, call me after.” Natasha dismissed him with a hand as she closes the door.
Back at the studio, Bucky was already closing the lights, Sam picking up Tony’s belongings, Steve waiting for them outside with the key. When the two emerged, Steve locked the door with the efficiency of a man who’s done this every night of that week.
Steve headed towards his motorcycle calling out behind his shoulder. “I’ll get us some seats. I’ll see you three later.” He smiled before running the engine. As Bucky and Sam approach the curb to sit down, the phone on his pocket kept buzzing.
Sam picked up his ringing phone, before he pressed it beside his ear. “What’s up?” he muttered as he lets out an exhale, Bucky leaned in nosily. “Can you pick up some snacks before you go home?” A young woman chimes through the speaker.
“Who is it?” Bucky grins.
“My sister.”
“Hey Sarah.” He says, his voice sultry before Sam jabs him in the rib. He winces right before Sam ends the call.
“Don’t flirt with my sister.” He rolls his eyes as Bucky laughs. “I said ‘Hey’!” He protested as on cue, Tony’s BMW 3 series pulls up, they both stand in unison. “Get in.” Tony runs the window down as the door clicks, signaling its unlocking. Sam sat on the passenger seat, exhaling as he felt the difference of the night air and the cool air conditioning.
Bucky sat just behind Sam, his head dropping backwards. Sam teasingly lays his seat back to squeeze Bucky’s thighs. Bucky groans, the sound getting lost in the fleeing tires of Tony’s driving. “Can you move your seat up?” Bucky asks, his voice low and already knowing. “No.” Sam mutters, a soft grin on his face as Tony chuckles.