Multi-Fandom-Blog

"Are you kidding me, Barnes?"

"I'll just have a shower and then I'll be ready."

"Just a shower?" You turned, hands on your hips, "what about your hair? What about a shave?"

"I'm not shaving for this nonsense and I'm definitely not letting you do my hair again, plus, you said you liked the beard." He tickled your sides as he passed. A mistake.

You saw red.

"Well good, because I don't have time anyway, it's a Dyson, not a miracle worker." You huffed, turning back to the mirror and checking your lipstick while trying to bat his hands away.

You caught the edge of Bucky's smile as he shut the bathroom door and turned the shower on.

Ten minutes later he emerged again, damp hair dripping down his back, only to find you dumping his drawer of things into a plastic shopping bag.

"You're being an asshole, Barnes, you can't come in here late and make a mess of my room. So you can take your shit with you when you go."

You threw the the bag at him and he caught it one handed. Setting it beside his suit on the bed.

"I'm sorry —"

"I don't care. Get dressed."

You vanished into your closet and returned with your shoes in one hand and one of your little clutch bags in the other.

"You want to keep your phone in my jacket l?" He offered, as always, looking at the tiny handbag with disdain.

"I want exactly nothing from you, Barnes."

Back to Barnes, at least it wasn't asshole.

Bucky picked up his dirty gym wear and put it in the basket, using his other hand to towel dry his hair.

"Hey look, I'm sorry I was late, I was —"

"At the gym, I know, don't worry. The gym is super duper important. I'm aware."

"Not more important than you though." Bucky tightened his towel around his waist and cautiously approach you.

"Yet you're late, you said we'd go to this together and you've left me to get ready alone. Thinking you're not coming. I knew this whole thing was a bad idea."

For a moment Bucky wasn't sure if you meant going to the gala or spending so much time together and his stomach turned over.

"It's a good idea to go together, moral support, show our faces, PR."

"PR! Is that — don't you date touch me, Barnes, I've spent hours getting ready, this dress is silk, if you get it wet —"

"I won't get it wet —"

"No you won't, because you won't be coming near me tonight, go on your own. I am wearing absolutely insane underwear, by the way, for you, in fact, I don't know why I fucking bothered —"

You wriggled, sliding your lace thong down your legs and throwing it at him before picking your usual gala dress staple underwear and disappearing into the bathroom to change.

Bucky looked down at the scrap of lace in his hands, the business card for the hair and make up artist that had clearly left before he arrived, the towering shoes and the little bag in his favourite shade of midnight blue... and realised he had messed up.

"I'll see you downstairs then I guess."

The rest of the team were quiet, used to your volatile relationship and didn't mention the way you avoided Bucky on the way up the marble steps to the gala.

Alexei offered you his arm instead, but spent the very short walk packing in a lecture on communication and how much he respected Bucky, one soldier to another.

You couldn't take another second of it, beelining for the bar and ordering a round of shots for you, Ava, Alexei and John as well as two virgin cocktails for Yelena and Bob.

"Leaving me out of the loop again, doll." Bucky leant back against the bar, pressed against your side.

"No one is leaving you out, Barnes."

"You left me out of why this was so important to you. I didn't realise, if I did, I would've been there in your room when that team were dolling you up. I'd have come to your dress fitting and had them fit me a new tux. I'd have been there to zip you into this very sexy dress."

The bar tender set the shots down in front of you and, much to the dismay of your team mates, you did three in a row.

Before you could lift the last one, Bucky put his hand over it, gently lowering your hand back to the bar.

"Please, let's go and dance, and then you can think of all the horrible ways I'll pay to make it up to you. I'll even drive you out to that god awful waffle house you like in Queens."

"No thank you."

"Please, baby doll, I know I should know what I did, but I don't. Tell me. Let me fix it."

His hand was around your wrist, not tight, just resting there, his thumb rubbing at your pulse.

"It's summer."

"Yes. It is." His brow furrowed.

"It's July."

"Normally in summer."

"I knew it you —"

"Asshole? Yeah, I am, I'm sorry. It's been a year, hasn't it. Since we first met."

You allowed yourself a moment to look at him, his stupid blue eyes and his stupid handsome face and his stupid salt and pepper beard.

"It is special, I'm sorry I didn't realise it would be for you. I thought — well I thought this didn't mean much to you."

"Well. It does. It did. But it doesn't matter anymore."

Bucky slid off his stool and hooked an arm around your waist, "let's dance."

"I don't feel like it."

"Come on," Bucky led you out onto the parquet floor, a quartet in the corner playing some vaguely familiar classic tune.

"You liked Bridgerton, right?"

"Don't push it." You hissed, but you let him lead you in a slow waltz.

"You're going to make me pay later, aren't you?"

"Oh definitely."

"Any chance that might involve those tiny panties you gave me earlier."

He span you out and you curled back into him, his back against your chest, his breath hot in your ear.

"I didn't give them to you and, just for that, no."