Out of My Head

Slowly he starts worming his way more, and more into your life.

First he insists you come stay with him for a few days since you’re so sad about everything. Which of course you happily accept. It only makes sense really since you’re practically living there already after all your failed dates.

Then oh no! The cleaner messed up the spare bed! And he wouldn’t be a good best friend if he let you sleep on the couch. No. He insists you cuddle up with him in his bed. It really only makes sense since you tend to seek him out in the middle of the night anyways.

It’s not long before you forget about the dates, and the bed. Because you’re snuggled up with your best friend, enjoying the rhythmic beating of his heart as you lay on his chest. Soaking up the warmth, that the human furnace that he is, provides.

But then there’s a day, your mutual friend sets you up on a promising date. This one is a double date, with her and her boyfriend. You’re confused as you see Ransom’s jaw tick and his fists clench at his sides.

“What’s wrong Ransom?” You gently stroke the furrow in his brow until the muscles loosen and release.

“Maybe you should stay home tonight, Kitten.” He murmurs to you, pulling you close.

“Did something happen?” You question, more worried now, “Are you okay?”

Ransom pulls you into a hug then, burying his face in your neck so you can’t see the fire burning in his eyes. “I don’t-“ he cuts himself off. “Please just stay…”

His whispered words pull at your heart, of course. “Ransom, I’m worried, please just tell me. Are you okay?”

He sighs into your neck, hugging you impossibly tighter. “It’s…it’s something with Grandfather…”

You can hear the wetness in his voice, the crack at the end making your face contort into misery.

“Oh Ransom.” You pull him over to the couch.

“Please,” he’s begging you now, tears gathered in his eyes making the blue shine so much brighter. “Please just stay with me tonight.”

His hands clasped yours, almost afraid to let you go.

“Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’ll pull you down to the couch then, snuggling you into his chest. He knows he’ll have to tell you the truth at some point. But for now, just this was enough to soothe his soul.

He’ll watch you as you pick at a thread on his sweater, and then he’ll pick his moment. The perfect moment. Where he’ll tilt your chin up so he can look at you, and you him.

He’ll marvel at the confused expression on your face until, he leans down and seals your lips with his own.

Then it’ll be like two puzzle pieces slipping into place. Because of course you’ve always loved Ransom, maybe you just didn’t realize it was like that.

***

"Yeah, I know," you rolled your eyes. "Bucky? Truth or dare?"

"Dare," he decided.

You looked around the room quickly. "Pick up... that!" you instructed as you pointed at the heavy-looking sofa chair in the corner.

"That's all you want me to do? Redecorate?" he rolled his eyes.

"Bet you can't hold it over your head with one hand," you challenged with a smile.

He took a sip of his drink, meaning he was refusing to take the dare, and Sam groaned in disappointment. "He totally could, he's just too lazy to get up!" Sam accused.

"Fine, fine," Bucky relented, setting his drink down. Standing up and approaching it, he turned back to look at you first. "Vibranium arm or--?"

"Surprise me," you shrugged playfully, though you were honestly surprised already that he could apparently do it with either. He did choose the metal one, though, and only struggled to balance the massive thing properly as he lifted it rather than the actual weight.

You and Sam cheered and clapped proudly and he took a little joking bow as he set it down and returned to his seat.

"My turn," he announced, looking over at Sam intently. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," he replied.

Bucky leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on his knees and narrowing his eyes as he stared at Sam; you straightened slightly where you were sitting on the couch, worried what he was so serious about asking. "Did you take a fifty out of my wallet that time I left it in your car?"

"Dude, that was like, two years ago!" Sam whined.

"So you did!" Bucky accused with a pointed finger.

"I'm not saying that, I just can't believe you're bringing it up--" Sam began.

"Just admit it, man, I know you did it!" Bucky talked over him.

"You're a hundred, nobody would blame you for forgetting where you spent it," Sam continued.

"Guys, guys!" you interrupted until they both looked at you. "Sam, are you officially answering the question? Yes or no?"

Pausing for a second, he quickly took a shot out of his glass. "You sneaky little shit," Bucky frowned.

"Whatever, truth or dare," Sam turned to you quickly to change the subject.

"Truth," you offered this time, and Sam paused for a second before a devious smile filled his face. You leaned back as if creating some distance would protect you from whatever idea he'd just had.

"Alright," he began, "if you had to pick... which one of us would you, you know..."

You figured you knew what he meant, but you still made a confused face. Bucky coughed nervously into his fist.

To illustrate his point, Sam moved his fist back and forth and made an ee-ee sound to, apparently, imitate a squeaking mattress. "I get it, I get it, Christ," you grimaced, instantly reaching for your glass.

"Come onnnn," Sam whined.

"Nope, too weird," you decided, shaking your head as you tossed back the last of your drink.

The drinks didn't hit you too hard, but you still had to turn in for the night eventually. A knock on your door startled you when you were laying down and procrastinating sleep on your phone; a wave of dizziness surprised you when you stood up too quickly-- apparently you were still a little more tipsy than you realized.

You opened the door to find Bucky on the other side, looking at you with a sort of sparkle in his eye, and you let him in without a word. "You could've said Sam," he said to you suddenly.

"Huh?" you mumbled in confusion.

"You know, when he asked you earlier, in the game," Bucky clarified, "about which one of us--"

"Oh, right," you nodded, not sure why he was randomly bringing this up now.

"You could've said you'd rather hook up with him," he offered again.

You raised an eyebrow.

"To throw him off the trail, I mean," he added, stepping closer to you and resting a hand on your waist. "And give him a little ego boost."

"Don't think he needs much more ego," you smirked, putting a hand on Bucky's shoulder in return, "or a red herring to throw him off the trail. I really don't think he suspects anything."

"Well, then maybe we should give him something to be suspicious of," Bucky offered in a lower voice, leaning in to kiss your neck.

"Buuuck," you whined in playful annoyance, pushing him back slightly. "He's just down the hall..."

"Then try to be quiet," he offered, before he smiled against your skin in a way you could already tell was triggered by a mischievous idea. "How about I dare you to be quiet?"

Your breath caught a bit, equally due to his kisses on your pulse and the titillating idea of being forced to keep quiet while he--

"No seriously, I dare you," he decided before dropping to his knees and starting to pull down your pajama bottoms. "Don't be too loud or he'll hear you..."

“Did you see him with that actress?”

“Which one?” Harris snorts.

“That blonde one… you know…”

“Really narrows it down, dude.”

You’ve seen the magazines too. Seen the headlines while scrolling. You’re not one for celebrity gossip. You find it a bit strange to be so involved in anyone else’s private life.

You sink into the wall. It’s not unusual for you to wilt beneath these conversations. Most of the techs are guys and most of them have no shame. When there’s certain actresses on set, they’re almost drooling.

“Guy is living the life.” Harris sighs. “Sports cars, hot girls, rich as fuck.”

You fidget and focus on the sound in your earpiece. Can they not just do their work? You don’t need to hear all this.

“If I was him, I’d have one in the morning and one at bedtime.” Cody slithers.

“Oh and what about Trinity?”

“What about her? She’s hot enough but she’s so damn boring.” Cody drones.

Ugh. You feel bad for this woman you’ve never met. To have someone talk about you like that. Barely a human to them but an outlet for relief or boredom.

“I heard that Sharon Carter if single now.” Cody says.

“Kinda old now…”

“Fuck that, dude. She is sexay. I know girls ten years younger who don’t look like her.”

“You think Rogers fucked up or she’s a dead fish?” Harris snickers.

You grimace. That’s so gross. You don’t get men. At least, all the ones you’ve been around are confounding. Rude or disgusting or just completely uninterested.

📽️

“Ugh, I’m done.” Penelope fans herself. “Someone get me some juice juice.”

Her special blend of ginger, apple cider vinegar, honey, and a dash of vodka is her ‘special cure’ for her hangovers. You’re not sure it helps and it looks and smells rancid. For someone so glamorous, she really isn’t. You try not to judge; you wear the same thing every day, black jeans, black shirt, all to just blend into the background.

You approach her as she stands and grins over at her guest. He rubs his thick fingers together as he sniffs. She winks.

“It was so nice to see you again.” She trills. “You must remember, the after party last year?”

“Mm, remind me which one?” He squints.

She giggles. “Oh, you’re silly. I know you know.” Her smile fades and she rubs her temples as her eyes roll back. “Hurry up and get this shit off me!”

You rush forward and reach for her mic. It catches on the fabric of her blouse and you struggle to untangle it, nearly dropping it into her cleavage. She swats your hand.

“Ugh, don’t you know how to do the one thing you do– ACH!” She exclaims suddenly and veers to the side as her hand is seized and her arm bends awkwardly to the side. She leans into Napoleon’s grip. “Ow! What are you doing?”

“Did no one ever teach you manners? The woman is doing her job and you’re not making it any easier.” He lets her go.

“It’s fine, I got the mic.” You show him.

“No, it’s not. She hit you.” He crosses his arms. “Apologise to her.”

Penelope scoffs and her green-blue eyes flick between you and the action star. “Are you serious? I’m not a child, don’t talk to me like that. She’s just a tech–”

“Her and everyone else keep your trash show on the air.” He retorts evenly. “If you’re going to behave like a child, then you should be treated like one.” He huffs. “Where’s your producer? I’m having second thoughts about the broadcast.”

“What?” She nearly screeches. “You can’t. You signed a contract.”

“With terms and conditions.” He counters without a beat.

“She’s just a tech–”

“And she’s better at what she does than you are at your… whatever you do.” He turns to you and drops his arms. “Will you kindly remove my mic? I need to go have a conversation with my agent.”

He bends his knees and leans in slightly so you can reach his mic. You can see his throat constrict as you unhook it from his collar. As you slide the power switch back he gently touches your upper arm.

“Thank you. It’s much appreciated.” He squeezes just a little and lets go, standing straight. You’re barely at a height with the top of his stomach.

He adjusts his tie and smooths his jacket. Penelope tugs on his sleeve. “You can’t be serious? All this because of this… thing.” She whines.

“Do not touch me.” He turns and gently girds her away with his forearm. “Do it again, and I will file a complaint.”

“Sir…” you utter quietly.

It’s nice of him to speak up. Most of the other guests are too focused on getting out of there or pretend they don’t notice her behaviour. Everyone on the crew is terrified of the host. And when he’s gone, she’ll only be worse. It would’ve been easier if he’d said nothing so she’d go back to not knowing you exist.

“A complaint? You grabbed me.” She pouts.

“After you hit an employee.”

“I didn’t–”

“We’re done. Don’t air the interview.” He shakes his head and turns, pausing as his eye catches yours. “Are you alright?”

“I told you, fine.” You mumble and look down at the mics. “I should… go put these away.”

Despite everything Cody and Harris were going on about and all the gossip sites, he’s not as bad as you would think. He’s considerate at least. Then again, you really are just a tech like Penelope says.