Co- Aquatainenceship 9
Summary: Youâre just two ex-assassins trying to navigate your way through normalcy, but youâre also huge idiots. In an attempt at getting Bucky out of his shell, you offer to catch him up on everything heâs missed. Including trashy YA novels.
Pairing: cw!Bucky Barnes x female!Reader
Word count: 6.4k
A/N: I have been struggling so hard to write lately :(( quick shoutout to @sanguineterrain for helping me find the end to the chap but also the courage to get it done!!
Warnings: angst, talk about depression, fluff, injuries, blood, and stitches. can't forget smoking
Series Masterlist
So you donât talk about it. It being your feelings, but you didnât want to when he was out of town for the next week, doing a multitude of interviews with Tony and Natasha. Pepper had come up with a simple PR plan to roll out the new phase of the Avengers, and it included Bucky. They wanted to show people he was harmless, but youâre not sure putting him on live television was such a good idea. He glared down at every camera, and intimidated every interviewer despite their best efforts at making him look less intimidating. You tease him relentlessly when his days are over, but he begs you to stop watching them. You give in after day three when you keep hearing the same handful of answers.Â
With your time off, you almost donât know what to do. You try filling every moment that youâre awake because if you think, you spiral. So you run, smoke a whole pack a day, and sometimes box.Â
On one of your slower days, you wander up to the roof. Not many people go up there, and Tony hates it when they do, but thereâs two shitty plastic lawn chairs to gaze up at the stars. Everything feels unsettled and shifted, but just looking up and zoning out helped.Â
âI thought you quit years ago.â Steve moves the spare chair next to yours and it groans under his weight.Â
âNo need to keep the clueless act, Stevie.â You stub the cigarette out anyway, knowing the smell still puts him off. Bucky had told you his anxieties only came from when he was a small kid with asthma before the serum. âBucky let the cat out of the bag months ago.â
âWell, Iâm surprised it never occurred to you sooner.â
âJust wanted to tell myself you didnât notice I guess. I know how you feel about them.â
Steve stays quiet as he leans back, the chair creaking so loud youâre sure itâs going to break.
âHow are you doing? Really. You never liked time off before.â
âNo, I know. You were right. I needed it.â You sigh. âEverything feels kinda fucked. Iâve never really felt⊠lost. There was always an end goal somewhere. How did you always know that you were doing the right thing?â
âI didnât.â He says honestly. You know it by the haunted look in his eyes. âBut it always felt right. Sometimes things just donât turn out, no matter how well you stick to the plan.â
âRight.â You look down to the gravel, still feeling a little small. Even when admitting he wasnât always right, Steve felt so perfect to you. The great American hero, but in your eyes, the altruistic big brother. âNever did say sorry for the kid dying, did I?â
âNo, y/n. You didnâtââ
âIâm not-â you interrupt then sigh, trying to gather your words. Steveâs patient, watching you without judgment. âIâm not saying sorry for getting him killed. I already did that, but Iâm just saying. He was on our team. Iâm just sorry we lost someone on our team.â
âYou lose people sometimes.â
âStill sucks though.â
âIt does.â
Itâs quiet as you both look up to watch the stars and the occasional plane fly by. You liked these little moments with him. He always knew how to lift your spirits, just the slightest bit, even if you were the one venting most of the time. Youâre sure heâs just happy to see you not locked up in your room for days on end.Â
âI think I might need more time?â It comes out more as a question than a statement, feeling a sudden rush of tears.Â
âIâll let Tony know.â He almost goes into work mode until he looks over at you looking a little crushed. âCome on. Samâs back from his sisters and I know you love her cooking. Maybe Bruce will show you some of his new gadgets too.âÂ
He leads you back to the roof door, holding it open for you. Itâs almost too quiet in the elevator and youâve honestly been dying to ask.
âSoâŠâ you start, turning to him with a sly grin. âDo I get to know her name?â
âWho?â
âThe girl youâve been seeing, Steve.â You roll your eyes. âYou had a red kiss stain on your cheek all of Monday afternoon.âÂ
His face turns as red as the lipstick that had been stuck to him and you almost double over in laughter.Â
âBuck is only gone for one more day, you know.â
Your laughter stops. âWhatâs that got to do with anything?â
âIf I recall correctly, you smelled a lot like Bucky's cologne when you came back Monday.â
âCan we rewind and I make fun of you for saying gadgets instead?â
You wait outside Bucky's building, bouncing anxiously as you hope you timed his departure from the compound correctly. Some passerby give you looks as you hang out on the edge of the curb, leaning casually against the car beside you. The roar of a motorcycle makes you perk up, turning just in time to catch him pulling up and killing the engine. You stay in your spot, two cars away as he removes his helmet and goes for his things. Not before acknowledging your presence of course. His hair has been trimmed since youâve last seen him in person and his face is completely smooth. It makes him look less intimidating upon first glance, and you know for a fact the pepper made him do it. He had looked even less intimidating on tv, being dressed in lighter colored clothing, opposite of the black clothes he wears now.
âSteve said you werenât around.â Bucky says when heâs standing in front of you, looking as antsy as you probably do.Â
âI was a little busy with this.â You gesture to the old and pale colored jeep wrangler behind you. âTa-da!â
âItâs a jeep.â He states simply.Â
âWell. Yeah, but itâs my Jeep. That I drove alone.âÂ
âWait, youâŠâ realization dawns on him and you quickly pull out the temporary paper one the dmv gave you.Â
âYouâre looking at the new owner of a driver's license!â You barely show it off before heâs pulling you into a hug, spinning you around. He sets you down, hands lingering on your hips as you let out remnants of laughter.Â
âEveryone better watch out with that lead foot of yours, doll.â
You give his shoulder a good punch, which only makes him laugh. Thereâs a moment where you watch his eyes fall to your lips before coming back up to your eyes. Home always looked good on him, the bags under his eyes lessening from the inconsistent sleep. He just always looked happy to be in Brooklyn, that boyishness returning full force. He's taking a step back and picking up his bags that he dropped in excitement and invites you in with a nod toward his building.Â
âYou could have let yourself in.â He says when youâre alone in the elevator.
âI donât need your neighbors thinking Iâm some crazy ex or something trying to break in.â
âSounds like you need a key then.â
You hope you keep your cool, but by the smug look on his face, your shock is obvious.Â
âBeer?â Bucky offers, setting his bags down by the couch to be forgotten until later.Â
âYes please.â
âWe can sit out on the fire escape if you want a smoke.â He had noticed when your anxious energy hadnât dissipated. âGo ahead. Iâll grab a few.âÂ
You climb outside, taking a seat on one of the stools heâd placed there when you found yourselves there more often than on his couch. Your leg bounces because youâre going to tell him damn it. Avoiding the conversation is only going to make things worse. It already has if your fight was anything to go off of. His tags sit heavy on your chest, and you toy with them while he moves around his kitchen. Heâd heard them clinking together when you walked, but he wasnât going to bring it up until you did. He didnât really have any real need for them, and he gave them to you for a reason. A promise. That didnât have to end every time he came home. Plus, he imagined the simple chain looked great on you, and he canât find it in himself to scold his brain for thinking of your chest. Not even naked. God, heâs become a simp. Even though heâs still not completely sure what that means.
His footsteps have you hiding the tags back underneath the collar of your shirt.
âCareful,â he warns when the bottle almost slips through your nervous hand. Grabbing your favorite pack of cigarettes from the window sill, he taps it against his palm a few times before slipping one out, lighting it and offering it to you.Â
âIâm quitting,â you blurt out.Â
âOh.â He isnât sure what to say as he rolls the cigarette between his fingertips, unsure of what to do with it now. âSteve get to you finally?â
âNot- I mean I do feel a little guilty now that I know he knows but, no. Iâm not quitting smoking. Iâm quitting the team, Buck. Itâs why I got my license, a car.â
Itâs quiet for a long time, and you avoid looking at him in fear of seeing the possible rejection on his face. Eventually, you take the cigarette he keeps playing with instead of smoking, and take in a long breath as he thinks to himself. You wait with baited breath, and when he looks at you calmly, you blow it out quickly.Â
âWhere are you gonna go?â Thereâs concern hidden underneath the curiosity, but youâre able to decipher it from his tone.Â
âNot sure.â You shake your head as you offer it back, letting him take a drag as you steal a sip of beer. âTheyâre kind enough to scout a few places. Make sure itâs safe.â
âAnd what will you do?â
Turning your head, you smile softly as you shake your head once more. âI never really thought about that. What did you do in your time in Romania?âÂ
No oneâs asked him that out of genuine curiosity before. It was always accusatory or for the record. Heâs taken by surprise, in all honesty.Â
âWhatever odd jobs I could find. Nothing with official paperwork.â
âOf course.â You respond softly, understanding it would have created problems. âWell, my offer still stands,â you tease a bit as you reach for your own beer. âI think itâd be fun to be roomies.â
âI canât, sweets.â He looks to his lap dejectedly.
âNo, I- I understand.â You try to not show the hurt despite not being fully serious about the offer. âYour home is in Brooklyn. Itâll probably be closer to Steve and Sam⊠and I was totally kidding.â
âI mean, I canât. They want me for at least another year.â
âWhat? Who exactly is âthey?â Tony? Fury?â
âDonât make a fuss,â he pleads. Iâm not sure Iâm worth all this, Steve.Â
âWhy not?â
âGotta pay my dues. It came with my parole.âÂ
You stand, clenching your jaw as you move to lean over the railing. Thereâs a heavy sigh from behind you and the old fire escape creaks when he moves next to you.Â
âItâs not just about me having to work for them, is it?â Heâs quiet, cautious.Â
âWhoâs gonna look after you when Iâm gone?â
âwhen itâs not you, itâs Steve.â
âSteve doesnât make a fuss like I do.â
âWell, you both know how to make yourselves heard.â It makes your mouth twitch but you work hard to keep frowning. âIâll be fine. I can take care of myself.â
âItâs nice to have help though.â
âIt is.â He smiles. âBut youâll visit and when you do, you can help me with normal things. Like when the damn tv misbehaves.â
âYou need to be nicer to it or youâre buying another one.â
He chuckles softly, plucking the cigarette from between your fingers. As he takes a drag, you see the frown and stress line between his eyebrows. Tilting your head, you wait for it to dissipate along with the smoke, but it never does.
âWhat? Worried about me? Iâll be fine, Buck.â
He flicks the excess ash off with his thumb, watching some of it fall on his boot. âYour mother reached out to me. I guess Emily seeing me on tv sent her into a frenzy, but she said she wants to look for you again.â
âWhat did you say?â You wrap your arms around yourself, a nervous habit. It isnât his fault she reached out, so you keep your anxiety from turning into anger.Â
âThat Avengers donât really take missing persons cases.â Thereâs an obvious pause, you realize, as he sticks the cigarette between his teeth to run his hands through his hair anxiously. âBut that I would reach out to some of my contacts. That being⊠you.â
âIâm scared shitless.â You take the cigarette right from his mouth. At this point, you arenât sure why you share when you both just end up stealing it from one another.Â
âI know that.â He leans against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. Youâre not sure if the railing or his shirt can handle the pressure. âIt just got me thinking, if youâre getting out, itâs a good time to let them know. You donât have to worry about anyone going after them. Worry about running into them either.â
âI think Iâll always worry.â
âIâll go with you if you donât think you can do it alone.â
âYou would?â It surprises you. âYou always said you didnât want to go with me to meet them. That youâd rather lose another arm.â
âI never-â he sighs, defeated, realizing he may have said it once facetiously. âI was being a coward. Couldnât do it for my sister, so how could I do it for you?â
âYour sister was alive?âÂ
âPassed before we became friends.â
âBuckâŠâÂ
âLook, itâs not about me, sweets.â He pulls you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your chest presses against him and youâre sure he can feel your heart racing. âYou want me there?â
âYes.â You wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing him into a tight hug. âWhat would I do without you?â
âCrash and burn evidently.âÂ
You pinch his ribs, making him yelp in surprise.
You let Bucky reach out to your mom, too afraid to do it yourself. She answers almost instantly and then youâre met with the fact that you actually have to set up a time to meet. Youâre too overwhelmed so you let her pick, and when the day finally arrives, you think youâre going to be sick.Â
âWe arenât taking your bike?â You practically pout when you meet with Bucky at his place to go meet your parents.Â
âWe can if you really want, but I was afraid Emily would want a ride and Iâm not putting your mother through that kind of stress.âÂ
âOh, you make a good point.â The nerves come through in your tight laugh.Â
âIs that okay?âÂ
âYes!â You answer all too quickly. âYes. Itâs just⊠it's been awhile since Iâve done the whole train thing.â Itâs only a half lie on why you were acting so nervous, but you donât have to explain for him to know.
âIâll be close by.â Bucky holds his arm out for you to loop yours through and leads you to the subway.Â
Itâs jam packed for the middle of the day, but Bucky takes care of the passes, what platform you need to be at and when. Anything to prevent you from getting any more stressed than you already are. On the train, youâre pressed into Bucky, your back meeting his front. When the train moves and you bump further into him, unable to get a hold of anything in time, he just reaches around to hold you in place.Â
âI got ya,â he whispers into your neck, making your stomach flip over.Â
You burrow further into him, arm resting over his, and pretend to hide into him. It just was hard being in the same city you were taken, on a train no less on your way to school, but you knew how to blend in with ease. You know even better that kirsch could never take you again, assured many times by Steve that you had gone through with that plan, and he was buried alone. You could always use your anxiety to your advantage to get lost in a crowd, but Bucky keeps you in place easily. Ignoring your obvious nail biting, a curse to yourself as you loved Natashaâs flawless natural nails, he only swats at your hand once.
When you get off the train and head above ground, Bucky gets distracted by a floral stand along the way. Despite your eye rolling, youâre endeared by his insistence of getting flowers any time he meets a girl's mother. You think you might get down on one knee when he gets a single rose for your little sister. Your palms begin to sweat when you enter the park you agreed to meet at and when you see your mom and dad sitting on a bench watching your sister, you stop.
âOh,â you breathe out, feeling like all the air has escaped your lungs.Â
âYou okay?â Bucky brings a hand to your lower back, worried by the look on your face.Â
âYeah I just- itâs really happening.â You turn to look at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed with worry. âJust scared⊠give me one second to take it all in.â
âTake all the time you need, sweets.âÂ
âMaybe we shouldâve rethought the flowers.â You turn to him quickly, too afraid to be the one to catch your parents attention first. âOr the whole thing.â
âY/Nââ
âMy mother is a florist for christ's sake,â you try to argue. âThe carnations were a terrible idea. Whyâd I let you get away with that?â
âIâm not sure that matters at this point.âÂ
Turning, you see your mother, and then consequently your father, both watching you in happy shock.
âOh, my baby.â You hear your mom's voice crack as she stands from the bench, just as afraid as you are to move any closer. You do when she takes a tentative step forward, hand pressed against her own chest. Nearly running, you collide into the both of them, arms wrapping around them desperately as they cling on to you just as tight.Â
âHi,â is all you can muster against your mom's shoulder.
âYouâve- well youâve grown!â She lets out a wet laugh as she takes you in, almost in disbelief at what she was seeing.Â
âItâs been, um, awhile.â You try to blink the tears away. Glancing behind you, Bucky stands where you left him. You wave him over subtly, not fully prepared to be on your own. âMom, youâve met Bucky.â
âYes! Mr. Barnes,â she holds out a hand which he takes before offering the flowers.Â
âMr. Bucky! Mr. Bucky!â Emily comes bounding up to all of you, ponytail bouncing. âYou did it? You found her?â
âHe did.â You kneel down to get to her level. âYou must be Emily.â
She looks up at you in awe, and itâs a little shy, but she hugs you to cover it up. Bucky gives you the single rose to give her, and she jumps in excitement. The questions begin, and Bucky is quick to pick up on your nervous glances to your little sister. You had promised full transparency, but you wanted to filter what the little five year old got to hear. He offers to take her on a quick walk, which your dad seems hesitant about, but you reassure him quickly. Then youâre all sitting and they look at you too expectantly. Itâs hard at first, telling them how scared you were and what all you went through, and maybe you lighten up a few details. The tears in their eyes never go away, and when you explain what Steve and the rest of the team did for you, your mother looks relieved.Â
âSorry, but why now?â Your father asks innocently.Â
âWhat do you mean?â
âYou said that man, Kirsch, died six years ago, right? How come you didnât reach out sooner?â
You look away, unsure at first, but then you see Bucky holding your little sister's hand, and laughing at some story sheâs expertly telling. The answer is almost entirely her. They got another girl, and they didnât have to worry about you any more, but in all honesty, when Tony found your parents' information, Emily didnât exist at all. Your parents were still in grief and in denial. You arenât sure what changed. Maybe it was the fact that Emily just happened to be a surprise, and they figured they could try again. Without you. So you had agreed to join the team instead of facing rejection or disappointment.
âI dunno,â your voice is small as you look at your hands. âI- I was an assassin. Didnât think there was much redemption in that.â
âOh, sweetheartâŠâÂ
âLook, I know that youâre my parents and youâll love me no matter what, but you said that when I was a kid. I stopped being that kid the day I got taken and Iâve killed people. it just- the idea of you being disappointed just made me too scared.âÂ
Neither of them try to give you any platitudes. Instead, they hug you tight, and let you cry. No one tries to carry the blame over anyone else. Youâve all somehow come to that silent agreement. They just end up doing exactly what you need, love you.Â
âEm sure is a firecracker.â You comment once the tears are over and sheâs begged Bucky to let her hang from his prosthetic arm just âone more time!âÂ
âWonder where she gets that from,â your father teases, side-eyeing you. âI should probably relieve your friend there.âÂ
âFriend, hm?â Your mother nudges your shoulder when your dad is far enough away.Â
âOkay,â you roll your eyes. âYes. Bucky is a friend.â
âA friend who brought your mother flowers.â
âHeâs old fashioned.âÂ
Your mother hums, not quite believing you, and drops it. But when he gives you a smile over his shoulder, you seem unable to.
âHeâs⊠complicated.â Your shoulders and smile drop when his attention is taken away. âWe both sort of are. Iâm not sure itâll go anywhere.â
âHow come?â
âIâm quitting the whole avenging thing. Moving somewhere else. Close enough to see you guys of course, butâŠâ
âFar enough to make it complicated with him?âÂ
âItâs all a bit complicated.â You sigh.Â
âLet life settle down again. Itâll surprise you.âÂ
After you all grab a quick bite to eat, you part ways, accepting too many stickers from your little sister on the way. On the train back, youâre both able to sit, and you recall the way your parents had looked exactly the same, just a little older. You have to retrace their faces from old memories to remember the way they look now.Â
âYouâre staring.â You tell Bucky on the third stop.
âJust⊠observing.â You give him a pointed look at his response you gave him too many times. âIâm proud of you for doing that.â
âOh my god,â you balk. âDo not make me cry on this train!âÂ
âIâm serious!âÂ
âI know, but I swear to god, if I cry one more time todayâŠâ you leave the empty threat out in the open, face softening at his sincerity. âThank you.â
âSo, when is your last mission?â He changes the subject to work quickly.Â
âMy last mission was my last one.âÂ
âOh, so youâre just done now?â He almost seems disappointed by that.Â
âWell, Steveâs putting me on desk duty until I decide what to do. Where to go. Thinking I might actually get some sort of degree.â
âDonât you have enough credits for at least three?â
You roll your eyes. âYeah, well, apparently theyâre begging Tony to make me decide. Iâll have to take a few extra to, you know, finish it out, but I dunno. Maybe linguistics since I have the most credits for that, but what actual paying job can I get with that?â
âYouâll figure it out. Youâve got time.â
âDoesnât feel like it.â You pout and play with the zipper of his leather jacket. âSo. Your sister.â Bucky sighs because he knew you wouldnât be able to drop it, but he isnât annoyed. âWas she the same one from the photo of you dancing?âÂ
âYes, Rebecca.âÂ
âItâs okay you couldnât go see her.â Youâre cautious, watching his posture and facial expressions closely. âI wish you could have, though.â
âI was still recovering.â They hadnât even given him his new arm, yet. âIâm not sure they wouldâve even entertained the idea, and I know that just makes you mad, butâŠâ
âNo, I get it.â You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth even through the layers. âI was on a short leash too. Still havenât decided if it was good or not, but they unfortunately had a very good point.âÂ
âYouâre still a flight risk sometimes,â he teases.Â
âI think Iâve found my reason to stay.âÂ
Laying your head on his shoulder, you let the noise of the subway take over between you.Â
Tapping your pen against your desk, you try to not let your head drop from boredom. Steve was right in saying you were never good with time off, but you didnât realize desk work would be ten times worse. You yearn to text your fellow teammates about any and all updates on their respective missions, begging for the nitty gritty details. Youâll even take having to hear about a black eye adorning Buckyâs face for the sake of your brain not rotting, but they give you nothing. Everything seems to go perfect, and youâre left bitterly tapping your pen as you stare at numbers. Itâs been three weeks of this. You had even bought matching pants and blazers in excitement. The initial giddiness in a change of pace had worn off quickly, and you became a part of the corporate drones you had heard so much about from your endless journey of media deep dives. You honestly consider starting a fight. Drama. Something.Â
A knock on your cubicle brings you out of your wallowing. Bucky, a beautiful reprieve, stands with a takeout bag in hand.Â
âWhatâs this?â You eye him warily, but smile at the interruption.Â
âHeard the fridge busted and you lost your lunch for the day.â He has this knowing look, like he had heard your grumbled curses and banging a fist on the fridge door that morning. It wasnât your proudest moment. âHave you taken your break yet?âÂ
âNo.â Your grin grows bigger, the thought of getting Bucky for an entire hour uninterrupted making your skin crawl with anticipation. âIs that what I think it is?â
âTake your break with me and youâll find out, doll.âÂ
You find a bench outside, looking out to the large field, and he unpacks the food for you. Youâre giddy as he hands the take out bowl of dim sum. The sun feels warm on your skin, and youâre just relieved to get out of the dreary office.
âAre you sleeping okay?â Bucky looks over your face once more, but youâve covered the heavy bags underneath your eyes with makeup. A skill youâve learned over the years to hide any injuries if necessary for work.
âIs this a friendly lunch or an interrogation?â Your voice is light, almost teasing to hide the nervous pain you feel from the question. If his intention hadnât been because you couldnât take your lunch, it would almost feel like a betrayal.Â
âFriendly.â His frown deepens, insulted by your insinuation. âI want to know youâre okay. Youâve been⊠small.â
âSmall?â A soft laugh escapes at that.Â
âYouâre usually so present and there, but these past few weeks,â he looks down and shakes his head. âI can see your mind wandering, and youâre not here much anymore. Just donât want to see you that bad again.â
âWell, Iâve been leaving my room.â Your hands find something to fidget with, and youâre hesitant to look at him.
âSweets,â he sets down his bowl and takes your nervous hands. Looking him in the eye, you can see a million words processing in his mind as he searches in your eyes. âI can help. If you want it or need it.â
âBuck,â you roll your eyes, unable to keep this conversation serious. âYou help me just fine.â
âYou swear?â He looks for your tells, but comes up empty. He looks so scared and you canât seem to understand why. Why would someone worry so much about you? âNo night terrors? Anything?â
âThereâs⊠been a few nightmares, but look,â you wave off his worry, letting one of your hands escape. He refuses to let the other one go, slotting your fingers together in urgency. âIâm getting out of bed and going to a mind numbing job everyday. Thatâs good, right? I normally just⊠wallow in self pity. Iâm not great, but Iâm good, Buck. No need to stress.â
âY/N, IâŠâ he hesitates, watching the microexpressions in your face change at the use of your name. No cute terms of endearment. You soften so much, he stops himself from telling you outright that he loves you. Because he can see the tiredness in your eyes despite your expert makeup skills, and he tells himself to wait just a little longer. It isnât the right time, and he doesnât want to overwhelm you any more than you already are. âIâm glad youâre okay.âÂ
âNat wants to take me out for drinks tonight. As an unofficial goodbye party. Why donât you come?â You want to prove to him that youâre doing fine, even though you would much rather get in bed early with a book.Â
âCanât.â He looks sheepish as he picks his lunch back up. âDoing some recon later.âÂ
âWell, I appreciate this, thank you.â
The sharp sound of knocking interrupts you from getting ready, hair halfway pulled back as you were about to fix your makeup. Youâre afraid itâs Nat, as you get up to open the door, having shown up early. Bucky leans heavily against the doorframe. Heâs beat up pretty good, bottom lip busted and scattered bruises littering his face. Thereâs dirt on his tac gear that he still has on, but most of all he looks tired.Â
âI didnât know you were back so soon.âÂ
âFinished early,â he grumbles out. Taking note of his leaning, your eyes fall down his arm, and you see blood on his hand that presses into his side.Â
âJesus, buck!â Without a second thought, you pull him into your room. Both of you stumble over his weight as he leans against you heavily.Â
ââM fine,â he mumbles as you drop him a bit unceremoniously onto the love seat in front of the window.Â
âI- weâŠâ Normally youâre more level headed than this, but you usually have the time to get in the proper head space before missions. A surprise visit covered in blood was going to give you some panic. âI need to go get help.âÂ
Just before you can walk away, Buckyâs free hand grabs your wrist. âThey taught you how to stitch someone up, didnât they?âÂ
âYes, but this requires a trip to the infirmary. Not my bedroom.â You gesture vaguely to his still bleeding wound.Â
âIâm not going to the infirmary.â he says firmly, the grip he has on your wrist tightening slightly.
âYou are bleeding on my couch.â You can see where it just starts to soak into the material. That stain will never come out, you know it.Â
âI donât need it to be perfect. Just something to get me by for the next few days.â It wasnât going to take long to heal, but that didnât mean they could just leave it be and hope for the best. âCome on, before someone overhears.âÂ
Rolling your eyes with a dramatic huff, you pull your wrist from his grasp to go close the door. Not before poking your head out into the hallway, looking for any signs of life. When you know youâre in the clear, you close her door, and head straight for the bathroom. While shuffling in the cabinet underneath the sink for the kit you swear you own, you raise your voice slightly to speak to him.Â
âWe need to stop the bleeding before I can do anything.â You almost shout in victory when you spot the red box, and grab a few towels. âFirst weâll need to get your shirt off.âÂ
As he struggles out of his layers, you drag your nightstand closer to lay out all of the items as neatly as you can. Taking one of the hand towels, you have him hold it firmly in place so you can go scrub your hands clean. Itâs nearly soaked through by the time you find a comfortable position to work in.Â
âLet me see?â You ask softly.Â
Your hands hover over his as he peels the towel back with a tiny wince. It wasnât as much as youâd like but you could work with it. Using the same towel, you hold it under the wound, pouring disinfectant over it and then patting it dry. He tries to not hiss in pain the entire time, jaw clenched tight. While you turn to get the needle and thread ready, he slings his arm over the back of the couch to grant you easy access.Â
âWhat were you thinking?â You ask quietly, the needle going through his skin easily.Â
âYippee, Iâm a hero,â Bucky deadpans.Â
âYou seem to have forgotten Iâm the one stitching you up. Should I check for a concussion too? Maybe terminal dumbass disorder while weâre at it.â
âWhat do you want me to say?â He flinches when you stab him harshly out of anger.Â
âI donât like you going on solo missions.â Shaking your head softly, you keep focus on the task at hand rather than his reaction to that. âYou should have asked me to come along. I was probably the only one who didnât have anything going on.âÂ
âYou said you had the night off.âÂ
You hum softly, not impressed with his lame excuse. âWell, now I get to end it by cleaning a stain that might never come out.âÂ
âShit,â he mutters, not having realized the blood reached the cushions. Without thinking, he moves to check the damage.
âHey, hey, whoa!â Your hand falls onto his stomach to steady him, nearly having pierced his skin in the wrong place. âEasy, hotshot. Iâm not quite finished yet.âÂ
Your hand glides over his skin before returning back to where it had been previously.
âGot blood on your dress too.â Bucky mumbles, taking the fabric between the fingertips of his free hand.Â
âItâs okay, I-â you laugh softly, bashful as his skin grazes against your legs. âI didnât really want to go.â
âHow come?âÂ
âI dunno. Maybe Nat would say Iâm looking for a reason to back out, but Iâd rather be here with you. Bloody or not.âÂ
Thereâs a thick silence as his hand falls on your thigh, squeezing in surprise by the admission. You scoff, returning to your needlework so you donât get embarrassed by looking him in the eye.
âGod, that sounded corny. I just- well, itâs true. I donât wanna go to a bar full of strangers where some guy is probably going to hit on me or insult me by accident. Probably wouldnât put up with me torturing him with candy or cheesy movies that physically make you cringe. Donât think I havenât noticed. I want a guy whoâs gonna dance with me because he knows I never have. If⊠if that makes sense.â
Itâs a full admission, heâs beginning to realize. Itâs him. You want him. Even though you canât make yourself say the words, he still knows you mean it. Because you wouldnât be shaking otherwise. You had the steadiness of a sharpshooter, and the only time you faltered was when feelings got involved. Youâre so close, it doesnât take much movement for his lips to capture yours, causing you to freeze and almost drop the needle. His hand slides up your thigh, sneaking underneath the skirt of your dress because he needs to feel your warmth. To know that heâs actually kissing the woman of his dreams.Â
âHey,â you whisper against his lips, laughter bubbling in your throat. Pulling back, you see the slight fear in his eyes. âI should finish this up before we⊠do whatever, donât you think?â
âIâll be fine.â He leans back in, but frowns when a hand on his chest stops him. Albeit a little dramatically, he throws his head back on the couch and lets your gentle hands continue working. Itâs silent for a while, and while youâre tying the knot to finish, he speaks again. âI think you should stay.â
âBuck,â your shoulders drop at that, and set the tools down. âI canât. Theyâve already found a place for me. Iâm supposed to be getting a fresh start. I mean⊠how are we supposed to do this? Wonât it just beââ
âComplicated?â
Your face burns in embarrassment. âYou heard that?â
âDoll,â he shakes his head, not wanting you to worry about that, and holds your cheek in his flesh hand, thumb tracing a circle along your jaw. âItâs now or never. I already thought I would lose you when you leave.â
âOf course you wonât!â
âYouâve got everyone here. Wasnât I your reason for staying?â
âYes, but Iââ you realize youâre doing it again. Youâre running away to avoid the hard feelings. The fear of rejection or worse. Loss. âSteveâs gonna be so pissed.â
âWho cares?â
Fuck.
âIâm scared.â Your voice shakes along with the hand that you bring up to the nape of his neck, and press your forehead against his.Â
âThatâs okay, sweets. I am too.â
âOkay.â You breathe out as you close your eyes. âOkay, Iâll stay.â
Bucky kisses you like youâre leaving, but he stays, wrapped in your arms until the exhaustion makes him sleep.
Tag list:
@buckymcbuckbarnes @enchantedbarnes @buckybarnesowl (if I mistakenly tagged you, I'm sorry. I lost my tag list and tried to figure out who asked)












