#dmdr

“How did that happen?” You asked Hill, who was walking with a tablet in her hand.

“Well—at the end Tony understood none of that was Barnes’ decision.” 

“Is he going to live here?” 

“I think Tony wants to have an eye on him—It’s better for everyone.” 

Seeing him there felt different. A kind of redemption for him, something you never thought of seeing with your own eyes.

Weeks passed and you started to see how he interacted with his surroundings—he was careful, trying to not attract attention to himself, always alone in the kitchen, training at late hours, walking around when he thought no one was watching over him. 

However, you were paying attention. You were always looking in his direction—not in a predatory way, but curiosity got hold of you.

And finally, you got the courage enough to sit in front of him, you didn’t make a fuss out of it, he was in the kitchen bar eating cereal very early in the morning—Tony was not in town so you had plenty of free time ‘till he got back. 

Bucky sat still for a second, he wanted to leave, except with all the activities the doctor had been putting him through this was the only free time he had for himself. He sighed and didn’t even look up at you. 

He really expected this was a one–time situation. He was not used to sharing his time, nor his space with anyone else—maybe Steve, sometimes Sam or Nat, and that was it. He didn’t want more people involved in whatever was going on with him. 

But by the third time you sat in front of him, he decided he would have to deal with it, he just accepted your presence there, and you didn’t push further. You just sat there, ate, waited if you finished before him, and then left when he stood up. Not more, not less. You knew he was dealing with a lot of things, and you didn’t want to make him feel pressured. 

Until one day, you arrived earlier than him, but you had a very busy day waiting for you, so you just went and left a chocolate bar you had bought earlier for him. You left it on his usual spot with a note. ‘Bucky Barnes.’

He was not expecting to not see you there, something inside of him felt half relieved, half confused—and he felt even more confused when he saw a chocolate bar with his name on it. He stared at it as if it were a puzzle. 

He left it on his side while he ate, he didn’t circle around it too much, maybe you were being nice because you were asked to do it. Maybe you were a kind of handler or guard Tony had set for him. Not his worst idea, to be fair. 

While he was eating, Steve arrived and sat in front of him. At first he didn’t notice the chocolate sitting there—but when he saw it an eyebrow raised.

“Didn’t know you ate chocolate.” Bucky sighed, “Oh! It was Tony’s assistant?” 

“How—how do you know about her?” 

“Buck, the whole Tower has seen how you two eat breakfast together daily.” 

“I don’t eat breakfast with her, she sits here and I’m here too.” 

“Fine, but you could have a nice gesture back and give her something.”

“I’m not doing that.” 

You continued your routine with him—or by his side. You never said anything at the beginning, but with the weeks you started to give him a casual ‘Good Morning’, and you would even start to say goodbye when you both were heading out.  

The first time you greeted him he just mumbled something through his teeth, you accepted it as a greeting back. And the following days his mumbling became a murmur, to a low “morning”.

You weren’t even expecting more than that—you were accepting what was given. 

But, one morning, he was not there. You could see his bowl cleaned and drying on the sink. You didn’t want to admit it fully, but his company made your mornings somehow better. When you sat on the stool, a chocolate bar sat in front of you. Your name written on a sticky note. 

You smiled wide, as wide as your cheeks let you do it. 

He didn’t even realize when he did it. He was on the corner bodega when he bought a family pack chocolate bag, he saw you eating one of those just a day or two earlier. And then, he asked one of the doctors for a bunch of sticky notes and a pen. 

And as if the planets had aligned to act on it, the very next day Steve called him on a mission, something fast, nothing that would last more than a day, but something that would make him not have breakfast with you.

After eating breakfast, and when Steve was not in the kitchen, he left the chocolate with the sticky note on the table. He felt like a child—like a teenager. God’s sake. He was a hundred year old man leaving chocolates to a woman he hadn’t even spoken more than fifty words to. 

By that moment, that became a routine, something yours, every time one of you wasn’t able to be at breakfast, you would leave a chocolate bar, sometimes with your names written on there, sometimes just the bar, but even with that interaction, words were not spoken—he didn’t dare to say anything, and you were too afraid to ruin the moment. 

One late night you were working with Hill with a protocol, nothing scandalous. She was yapping about a date she was having next week. 

“So, you don’t have anything going on?” You shook your head, your eyes still focused on the tablet in front of you. 

“I’m pretty busy with this shit here.” You mumbled while pointing to the artefact. 

“Oh, c’mon!” 

“What? It’s a pretty tough thing—I have to spend all my morning sat there working with it, I need all my focus on it…” 

For your misfortune—Bucky was just about to come into the lab when he heard you saying that. He really thought you were talking about him. And deep down he knew. You couldn’t be such a nice person to him just because—you were just an assigned handler. 

He stepped back and went directly to the compound’s gym. Steve was there training. Buckys’ chest heaved with anger, he could not believe he really thought you could just be nice to him. 

“Did you know?” He asked stumping inside.

“‘Bout what?” Steve stopped the punching bag. 

“You know about what! She’s not only Tony’s assistant, right? She’s my fucking handler!” 

Steve’s eyes were wide open, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of the water. 

“Look—Tony did try to set a guard for you, but I stopped him, and you can bet a tiny small girl is not your handler! What are you on?”

“So, why is she saying she has to deal with a tough task all morning?” Bucky chuckled almost in a cynical way.

“Well—because she’s a genius, she’s working with a protocol for S.H.I.E.L.D.” Steve sighed, “I know you have trust issues, and I know it is a long road, but can you accept she’s just being nice to you?” 

“Fuck off.” Bucky said, leaving the gym, Steve’s brows furrowed. 

He was really trying to help his friends, but he also understood how deep the cut was and how difficult it was going to be to make him trust again. 

After that day he became colder—he never again answered your greetings, even when you tried harder, something felt as if you had done something wrong, even when you left chocolates there if you weren’t going to eat—the chocolate remained untouched by evening.

“I know we are not exactly even acquaintances, but—did I do something wrong?” You finally asked one day. 

He didn’t even look at your way. You sighed and stood up, even you knew better than to push someone who clearly didn’t want you there. Since that stunt, you stopped eating with him, you just went, took anything you needed from the kitchen and walked away. Every time Bucky just saw you from behind his bowl and said nothing. 

Right there, he realized how full of shit he was. He felt guilty, for the first time someone who owed him nothing was kind to him, and he decided to push her away for no reason. 

But it was late, and it was better that way, he had nothing to offer her. 

One late evening, Bucky and Steve were walking into the tower, you were walking in their direction, really trying to not make eye contact with Bucky. 

“Evening,” you said, smiling at Steve. 

“Ma’am.” He smiled back and you walked away, he looked at Bucky with an eyebrow raised, “why did she not acknowledge you?” 

Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“Bucky…”

The blonde stopped his tracks, Bucky sighed knowing he had no other choice but to say the truth.

“I might have ignored her after that stunt at the gym, and she got fed up and stopped talking to me.” 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose exasperated. 

“You can’t be this idiot.” He mumbled.

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

“You have to make up for it, you know it, right?” 

“I… How am I supposed to do that?”

“Figure it out.” Steve said before walking away. Bucky palmed his face.

So, there he was—in front of a shelf with a ton of things, cups, little drawings on small canvas, stuffed bears. Nothing seemed like something Bucky would carry around. 

Steve had convinced him to buy you something for Valentine’s Day. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had celebrated it—let alone bought something like that in this century. 

He slid his fingers through his long hair—the green jacket hugged his biceps, at that moment he felt it was even tighter. He roamed through the whole store ‘till a teen girl approached him.

“Mister, do you need some help?” He sighed, “Don’t worry! We are going to find something lovely for your wife.”

“She’s—not… She’s a coworker.” The teenager knitted her eyebrows. 

“Well, we don’t judge here. What does she like?”

And he remembered, he saw you wearing a necklace with a heart more than once in the middle—one day you stopped using it. You had the habit of playing with it and you seemed to miss it from time to time when your hand slid to your chest and didn't find it. 

The girl who seemed to have a life mission helped Bucky find the perfect necklace—her words. She put it on a velvety bag and gave it to him. 

He spent the days dwelling on the idea of giving you the necklace—you hadn’t even talked to each other in a week or so, he couldn’t do the same as you did with the chocolate bar, he didn’t feel confident enough to do it. What was he going to do? Were you going to see it as what it was? Just a gift or something else? Every question made him backtrack.

He just left it on his nightstand, he was not even sure if you were going to be there on St. Valentine’s. You probably had a whole date—or you were probably spending your night with someone. Now he felt like an idiot, he didn’t even know if you were taken, and he was not a man to take something that was not his. Not that he wanted to try something with you, but he was sure you were someone that was worth keeping close. 

You were nice without expecting anything, you felt warm in every room you were in, everyone in the compound had only good things to say about you. And he was the only idiot who didn’t have a good relationship with you, just because he couldn’t accept that you were just a good person just because. And he saw it, he could see how you treated everyone with kindness and respect, but every time your paths crossed—he could see it, he saw how you restrained yourself from saying something, to even look at his way, and he hated himself for that. 

How did he manage to make such sunshine angry at him?

February arrived, and with it, Bucky’s guts to start making amends with you. It started slowly. First, he started to acknowledge you were in the kitchen, looking your way, not talking—he knew you deserved time. Now he was the one making the moves, slowly, at your pace, respecting how much you wanted to do or to approach him.

Fucking deep blue eyes. They pierced you enough to try to look at him. But you were hurt, you were nothing but nice to him and suddenly he gives you the cold shoulder? Not something you were going to let it slide. 

But you caved in, and by Valentine’s week you were on speaking terms again—you both sat together to have breakfast. Not much talk, just keeping each other’s company. Something he started to be fond of. 

Valentine’s Day arrived, and in the morning, he didn’t see you there—but for the first time, a chocolate bar waited for him. No sticky notes, no name. Just a bar. 

He thought it was weird to not have your characteristic sticky notes there, but he was thankful you started your old routine together. 

He didn’t see you the rest of the day. Not in the hallways, not in the labs, not eating with Hill as you usually did. And there, his suspicions grew bigger. You may be on a romantic daytrip with a man—-a normal man. Not a bionic centenarian with the worst PTSD seen by man. 

Now the necklace on his pocket weighed more, he felt idiotic thinking he could have something normal. 

At nine he walked to the kitchen, the hallways were silent, he could hear his footsteps echoing through them, but a dim light on the lab caught his attention. He peeped through the door, and you were there. Sitting in front of a tablet and thousands of papers.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. What were you doing there? He cleared his throat before speaking.

“Hi, there.” He said almost in a whisper.

You jumped on your spot with the sudden voice. “Oh god. Don’t ever do that again!” You chuckled.

“Sorry, thought you heard me.” 

“No, I was too focused on this.” You raised the tablet in your hand, “I need to finish it before the end of February.” 

He raised an eyebrow, “I get that—but what are you doing here? I thought you were going to be on a date or something.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “why would I—be on a date?” 

“St. Valentine’s Day?” Your mouth fell open.

"Wait, it's Valentine's Day today?! Oh! That’s why Hill told me to get a date. Such an idiot.” You palmed your face, “I’ve been here all day without taking even a break.”

“Did you forget it was Valentine’s Day?” 

“Yeah. Not my year—or life… romantically speaking.” 

“The prize of being Tony’s assistant?” 

“More like the prize of not being attractive?” His jaw clenched. How could you think that way? 

“It’s fine, I’m used to not having dates on Valentine’s, Bucky. That’s why I forgot about it.

He wanted to tell you a lot of things, how precious you were, how kind and warm you were— but he just nodded and stepped back, disappearing from your sight. He walked directly to Steve’s room.

“Everything’s fine?” He asked when he saw the distraught look Bucky had.

“She didn’t even know today was Valentine’s…” 

Steve chuckled. If there was something of the old Bucky remaining on this new man standing in front of him, this was a hint. Bucky was ever a gentleman back in time, and something was showing up right now in the anger his eyes reflected. 

Next morning you arrived and no sight of Bucky—nor a chocolate bar in the kitchen. 

Maybe the self–deprecating joke was too soon? 

You couldn’t stop thinking about how stupid you must’ve sounded. You really felt second–hand embarrassment. All day was the same, if you weren’t thinking about Bucky, you were thinking about how pathetic you sounded. 

When the dark of night covered the sky, you decided to leave to your room—something inside you wanted to make you dig a hole below your bed and never leave.

When you were walking to your room, you saw how Bucky was standing up in the middle of the living room—a white buttoned shirt hugging his god–given body. He seemed nervous, something strange to see on him.

“Uh—I…Can…” 

Was he stuttering? He? The Winter Soldier?

“Can you come with me?” He finally had the guts to finish the sentence, you tilted your head to the side but nodded. 

You both went up in the elevator in silence, and something felt heavier in the air. When the door opened on the roof, there was a table decorated with a white tablecloth and a couple of red roses in the middle.

“You—are attractive. And if any man has told you otherwise in the past—they are imbeciles and blind.” 

A tear started to well up on your eye. No one had ever done something like this for you, and a man who was this haunted did it just because of a self–deprecating joke you made? You were speechless, but he walked with you to the table, he helped you take a seat and in front of you there was a chocolate bar with a velvety bag. 

“I bought it for you—hope it’s enough to say sorry for the way I treated you. Not—not that I want to buy your forgiveness, but—God’s sake, can you just open it?”

You chuckled, seeing him this flustered was—glorious. When you opened the bag, a necklace with a heart in the middle was there. You couldn’t believe he noticed everything.

Your favorite chocolates, your lost necklace. He was really paying attention to you. 

“I don’t know what to say, Bucky—I don’t have anything for you.” 

“I didn’t ask for anything—you’ve been so kind to me. You are the first person outside of the people who knew me through Steve, who didn’t think the worst of me. You have shown me that I can be kind, and that I should trust maybe a bit more.” 

You chuckled.

“So then why did you treat me that way?”

He sighed, “I thought you were sent by Tony, that you were a kind of guard or handler.” 

Your eyes were open in surprise. 

“Bucky—have you seen me? There’s no way I could handle anything,” he chuckled, “and beside, Tony? Tony has been bullying me since the first day I sat with you.” 

“I know, I’m an idiot.” 

“I forgive you—I forgave you. That’s what people do.”

The word ‘people’ came out of your lips as if it wanted to be something different.  

He looked at you, and for the first time he was sure he could have something beautiful on his arm, something strong enough to not be broken but soft enough to make him feel different.  

The night was beautiful. With Nat’s help he cooked a lasagna and Tony gave him an expensive whine. 

The conversation between you flowed as if you hadn’t been in dead silence for the past months, and it felt well, like the whole thing you had was supposed to be like that. Like you both didn’t need many words before. 

“And where did your last necklace go?” He asked, as he saw how from time to time you caressed where the old necklace hung before. 

“It got lost—I don’t even know where. I was so sad, it was a cheap thing, but I bought it years ago and it was always with me.” 

“Well, you don’t have to wear the one I bought you just because I did it. I just thought…”

“Are you crazy? I’m not going to stop wearing it like ever.” 

Mornings were easier now, he now prepared two bowls of whatever he did, one for you and one for him. Late nights in the lab? He was there waiting for you, he even started to walk you to your car every time you left the compound. If you had to stay there, you both spent most of the night in the gardens just talking.

You learned a lot about him, and he always left the graphic details; not because he didn’t trust you at this point—but because he didn’t want you to pity him. 

Even when you never did, it didn't matter what he told you, or what he slipped. You never pitied him. Every time he told you a censored story of his past, you just nodded, let him finish, and made a remark—sometimes something about him being amazing at story telling, sometimes about a specific part of the story. 

But never about him. Somehow, you knew he didn’t want nor needed that, and you always paid attention to it. 

It was not like you were dancing around him, or walking on eggshells, more like—you wanted him to feel comfortable with you, even if it took time. 

One night, you were sitting in the garden, he was sitting on his butt looking at the sky, while you were crossing your legs next to him. Nights like that became a part of your routine, talking nonsense, walking around the place, silence that helped you both to decompress. 

“Why were you so nice to me?” He finally asked, you look at him, almost weirded out. 

“Well, why wouldn’t I? You did nothing wrong—not to me, like ever.” 

“So, you’re just nice around everyone?” 

“Is that not like we are supposed to be?” 

Bucky shrugged. 

“You know you’re too good for your own sake?” 

“I’ve been told before.”

There was a pause before you looked back at him. 

“Bucky, I like you…” 

He swallowed.

“This is not a proposal at all. I just want to be honest—I think someone like you appreciates honesty.” 

“I do. I appreciate it.” He looked at you, he moved his body to be just slightly closer to you, “And I like you too, but…” 

Bucky paused before finishing the sentence. 

“I’m not sure I can start something healthy.” 

“I’m not asking for anything—if you want to take the things slowly, we can take them like that.” 

“And if it takes a lot?”

“Then a lot will be.” You answered, he sighed, “Bucky, can you stop over thinking this? Just… let yourself feel.”

“And what if I hurt you?”

“You wouldn’t be the first nor the last.” 

Your smile made him weak, and the way you were handing your heart to him made him realize he liked you more than what he thought. He sat on his knees, facing you, his hand cupping your cheek slowly, chest heaving. 

“Tell me if you are not comfortable.” You shook your head.

“Don’t stop, please.” 

Your hands found their way to his neck, pulling him just inches closer before your lips touched. 

“And it just took three months after Valentine’s.” Tony chuckled, walking in your direction. 

“Tony…” You said before trying to stand up. 

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just taking a walk, but it’s nice to see two lovebirds enjoying their night.” 

Bucky sighed. 

“C’mon, Barnes. You can take her to real dates now.” 

Tony joked before leaving the garden. 

“I’m sorry.” Bucky looked at you. 

“I know Tony, that’s fine.” 

“No… I mean, yes. But, he’s right—I should have asked you on a proper date sooner.”

“Slow pace, Bucky. Slow pace.” 

You took his hand and tangled your fingers with his, before you could do anything, he leaned on you and kissed you. 

It was slow, but fiercely, something that hadn’t been said was confessed there, and everything felt complete at that moment.  

“That’s not slow.”

He was mumbling something through her teeth, scratching the back of his neck. When you got closer you caught a gist of complaining.

Why is everything so complicated? I just want a fuckin’ coffee—it doesn’t even have a fuckin’ effect on me. 

“Do you need help?” You murmured, trying to look at the menu as if you were trying to find something you liked.

“Oh—no. It’s fine.” He said almost in a whisper. 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” You looked at him—he had a tired look, an unkept beard, but he had a wood scent, “You look like you drink black coffee.” 

He sighed and nodded, you walked to the barista, and he followed you from behind, “Luke, can I get a large black coffee—”

“And your usual?” He interrupted and you nodded, before you could even take your wallet out, he was already paying with his card.

You looked back at him, “It was not necessary.” 

He shrugged—his coffee was called, he took it and walked away. 

“Weird.” Luke said finishing your order.

You tilted your head, “He seemed nice—just a bit rough.” 

You shrugged and went to your usual spot. To be fair, you didn’t give him more than a thought. At the end of the day, he seemed as one of the casual walks–in the coffee shop from time to time. 

Two weeks passed by and as you thought, nothing came out from the man you helped that evening. Sadly, deep down you were expecting at least seeing him one more time, just to enjoy the sight.

You remember him well—tall, slick black hair, broad shoulders, and he smelled like wood and mint, the few words you had the blessing to hear gave him away, he had a rough and tired voice, shaved but not kept beard. He somehow seemed as if someone else wanted him to look clean, but under all that dressing, he was handsome. More than what you really wanted to admit. 

And as you were going through your thoughts and past images, thinking about nothing and everything at the same time you—stumbled against someone. 

Not someone. 

Him. 

You looked up, and he looked your way, he gave you a nearly forced smile pressed on a line. 

His coffee was handed, he looked at your way, gave you a goodbye nod, and went his way.

“See? He’s nice, maybe he’s just not so talkative.”

Luke rolled his eyes while he prepared your coffee.

“I swear you could make a stone speak just to see you smile.” 

"That worked with you!" You joked, while looking at the man walking away on the sidewalk.

You took your coffee and walked away to your table, you were happy to have the opportunity to at least see him once again. 

Nonetheless, life was good—and the next week you saw him again, this time you didn’t stumble against him, you just greeted him, as you did last time. Trying to no look feral as you had looked the past times.

You didn’t want to make him pressured to greet you back or something. He seemed as someone more on the shy or introverted side, and that was something you respected.

You walked to your usual table to let him order and pay without much interaction. When he walked away, you swore he gave you a glimpse, nothing too obvious, but you noticed it. In spite of that, you decided not to pay too much attention to it. You had seen each other the past weeks, it was obvious that at a certain point he was going to recognize you.

When you walked to the clerk to pick up your coffee, taking out your wallet Luke shook his head.

“He already paid for it.” Luke said, almost teasing. Playfully. 

“What?” 

“He paid for your coffee and a pastry.” You were opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of the water. 

“Why didn’t you tell him not to do it?” 

“Well, he was so sure about it. Who am I to stop him from doing it?”

He chuckled and you were left with more questions, still confused you went back to your table—the cheesecake you chose and the coffee staring back at you. They felt different. Nice to be fair. 

Later on, the week you went back, it was not your usual day, but days had been stressful, tiring, Luke smiled as soon as he saw you. It was a playful smile, he was about to burst from not speaking as soon as he saw you walking to the coffee shop.

“What?!”

“Girl, what did you pull up?” He raised his eyebrow while he started preparing your coffee.

“What are you even talking about?” 

“Your suited man just came, didn’t order anything—but left a good chunk of money to pay for your monthly supply of coffee.” 

Your mouth fell to the floor. 

“You’re joking.” 

He shook his head, you could feel the heat on your cheeks. 

“Oh, lords… How am I going to say thank you? I’m gonna die from embarrassment next time I see him.” 

Unfortunately, for you—and partially for him. You stopped going for some weeks, work caught you up. You felt so embarrassed, that man was so nice to you and you just disappeared without even having the opportunity to thank him. 

Another week later, you were finally able to go back to the coffee shop, a very relaxed Saturday—and then you saw him, he was leaving a stack of bills, when he saw you coming in, his cheeks reddened as soon as he saw you.

The tip of his nose was so red he looked like a child. You started to notice how handsome he was, you really wanted to see him without that formal attire—something on him made you curious about that. Not that it didn't look good as heaven—but something gave him away that he looked better in a messy attire.  

He nodded at you pretending nothing happened and tried to walk away. 

You looked back at him, and said your name a bit louder, “and thank you for the coffee… It was not necessary.” 

His lip curled, almost a twitch. 

“James… No problem.”

And that was everything he needed—after that he was not able to stop himself from going every Saturday to see you there. Even if he had the chance he went to the café and if he saw you there, he would just go, buy a coffee and leave in his car. 

“Mr. Barnes, are you sure? You were very clear you didn’t want to do any of that.” His assistant walked on his side clicking on her phone.

“Yes, Lydia. Saturdays and maybe a day of the week.” She nodded.

“Fine, I will prepare a laptop for you and by the end of the day it will be ready for you to take it.” 

He felt an idiot, matter of fact, he was not even sure why he was doing that. When he took the job he informed he was not doing that ‘work from home’ thing, but when he met you, since the very first time you were nice to him, and he wanted more, he wanted to see you more, to know your name, to know more about you. He was so stuck with you he was not thinking clearly. 

When you told him your name, it was all he needed. He was set on starting to work there just to spend more time with you, as much as you wanted, as much as you felt comfortable. 

Next Saturday when you arrived at the place, he was already sitting in a corner booth, a laptop was in front of him and a cup on his side. 

When you finished picking up your coffee, you walked to him. 

“Is it busy?” Your voice was almost childish, you felt so shy in the moment.

“You don’t have to sit with me just because I buy you coffee.” 

Fuck. He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but he didn’t want to pressure you either. 

You chuckled and sat in front of him, took your book out and started reading without making much fuss, he just stared at you for a solid minute—he was expecting… he didn’t know what he was expecting, but he was taken aback. 

And that’s how he ended up fishing for more information with Luke—what days of the week were more likely for you to go, your favorite coffee. Everything he could learn about you that was important for him, he got it. 

By the third week being in each other’s company you learned he was Bucky Barnes, you knew his name, part of his story, but curiosity never got a hold on you to learn what his face was.

“So, you are a congressman…” You said while sitting next to him for the first time. 

“You learn I’m Bucky Barnes, but what takes you aback is that I am a congressman?” 

Both of you chuckled at his statement.

“Well, your story doesn’t determine who you are… being a congressman doesn’t do it either, but… I don’t know, I guess yes, it took me by surprise that you are that.” 

"At least here I don't get beaten—so often."

He chuckled, you blinked twice before your brain fully recognized it was the first time you could hear his laughter—now you felt even happier. A man like him laughed with you—or because of you, didn’t matter. He laughed in your presence and that was what mattered. 

A week before you were getting ready for St. Valentines, every year you got something for your friends and maybe one or two coworkers, but now you couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. He had probably never celebrated a Valentine’s Day before since he came back. And you really liked him… as a friend, of course. 

So, you bought him some fictional books after learning that was his favorite book genre. 

You wrapped them on a cute pink and red gift paper, a tray with what you caught were they favorite muffins from the coffee shop with a pink and red velvety frosting, and a bunch of candies. 

For the first time you arrived before him, you weren’t going to be able to stay at the place, work started to be a pain in your ass that same week, but you really wanted to give him a gift. He had been nothing but nice to you—not just because of the paid coffees, but you noticed how he paid attention—if you were explaining something silly, he was nodding and asking questions the same as if you were explaining something important from your job. 

And he never looked down at you; he would simply assume you knew what he was talking about, it didn’t matter of the topic, but if you ever asked what he meant, he would stop his tracks and explain it to you. He never made you feel stupid for asking, or made you feel wrong. 

With Luke’s help you both settled everything on his usual spot, the books, the muffins and the candies on a jar. You felt proud with the sight—nothing too scandalous, just something out of your heart. 

You said goodbye and went directly to your office—if given the chance you could even go back later to speak with Luke to see what had been Bucky's reaction. 

When Bucky arrived at the coffee shop, he tilted his head as soon as he saw ‘your’ usual spot being all gathered with things. He furrowed his eyebrows and went to Luke’s direction who was just finishing attending another customer. 

“That’s for you, man.” He said while he was pouring the coffee.

“Huh?” It was not even a full question, more than a sound, “why?”

“St. Valentine’s Day!” He whined mocking you when you were explaining why you were doing all of that. 

"And why isn't she here?" Bucky titled his head.

"Oh, she was caught up with work—but she will probably pass by later."

Realization hit Bucky at that moment.

“Wait, it's Valentine's Day today?!” Luke nodded.

“She did all that for you… Apparently she had finally made peace with Valentine’s Day.” He handed the mug, “It’s in the house, she paid for it. Part of your gifts.” 

“I didn’t do anything for her—I didn’t even know today was that…”

He sighed. When he went to his seat, and sat in the booth, he took the wrapped gift first. Three books—The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander, Redwall by Brian Jacques and The Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin. 

You listened to him, you knew he had been wanting to read more books. That he wanted to do a hobby and reading was something he missed so much. 

Then, his favorite muffins were sitting next to it. For God’s sake, how much have you learned about him without him noticing? He praised himself about being an excellent soldier, even a sergeant after receiving back his rank—how he couldn't see you were really paying attention to him?

After the usual flow of customers settled down and Luke was more relaxed, Bucky approached him. 

“Luke,” He spoke softly, as if he didn’t want to disturb him.

“All alright, man? You haven’t run out of money for her coffee supply, yet.”

“No… not that. Oh—What did you mean with what you said earlier about her making peace with this day?” 

He sighed, almost sad. “Three years ago, she found out his ex–boyfriend was cheating on her on Valentine’s Day. She moved on, or tried so, because he was all over her, he spent like half a year trying to get her back—when he finally did, like six months later he broke up with her… you can guess what day.”

Bucky was speechless—he was not the best man alive on earth but breaking that pure heart twice on the very fucking Valentine’s Day?! And yet—there you were. Preparing all that sorts of things for him, just because you spent some days together?

“Then, last year she spent the whole day in my supply warehouse. She said she didn’t want to see any couples, nor anything that had to do with the date.” 

“I—didn’t get anything for her.” 

Luke pursed his lips, he could see the gears spinning in Bucky's head. 

“Give me a minute. I—will be back.” Bucky went to his spot and took out his phone, and called his assistant, a woman who seemed to be too cheesy from what he had seen she read, she must know how to be romantic and those things he wasn’t sure he could fulfill. 

He didn’t want to disclose a lot of information, but he managed to ask her for help—food catering, flowers, gifts, everything he could think of. 

He didn’t care how much it was going to cost for the last minute things he was asking for, he just wanted to help you to erase all those horrid memories from earlier Valentine’s. 

When he finished arranging everything with his assistant he went back to Luke.

“Luke—is this place yours?” 

Luke nodded slowly—curious. 

“Do you have something going on later?” A mischievous smile appeared on his face.

“Your tone tells me that now I have something going on later.” 

“How much would it cost to have the place for us alone the rest of the night?” 

Luke opened his mouth big enough for Bucky to laugh.

“Fully closed, I’m gonna decorate the shit out of this already cute place, someone is bringing expensive shit for her and me… and you on the back.” 

“I could do it just for free if it’s for her.” 

Bucky shook and took out a card, “Just send my assistant a number, your information and she will send you the money. People will be here before you close to arrange everything… and add some extra for you, you have a job here.” 

“Me? Which job?”

“To make her come here, not earlier enough to not be ready, not late enough to not be Valentine’s already.” 

Luke was now in cloud nine, he couldn’t even feign the happiness he felt while seeing a man doing all this job for you. Something he knew you deserved, something you didn’t even expect. 

“I need to sort out some other things, make sure she gets here at eight, I will be here at seven just to confirm everything is done.” 

Luke nodded. 

"Bucky..." Luke spoke and he stopped his tracks, "Thanks for doing this for her."

He shook his head once again—he was not even sure why he was doing it. He could've just bought something expensive and call it a night. But something inside told him you weren't there for the expensive shit, but more for things that were thoughtfully planned.

In the other side of the city, you were busy with your job—Saturdays were not common for you to be there, but when you were needed there was not much you could do. And since Valentine’s was not your favorite date, you didn’t feel robbed from anything. 

Luke: “Girl, could you pass by at like eight? I need to get as drunk as possible tonight.” You: “See you at eight :).”

You were walking down the street—flowers, balloons, gifts, couples. Everything was like a pang on your chest, you didn't want to be that kind of girl that was all annoyed on Valentine's day. But you were—and you have been for a long time already.

When you arrived at the coffee shop, the place was almost shut down, the blinds were down, when you knocked on the door, Luke opened and you came in. 

You felt your heart on your feet. Bucky was standing behind a table with candles and wine in the middle of it. 

“I don’t celebrate this often—I have never celebrated this in this new life I’ve got the chance to live, but I wanted to do something for the person who made my life funnier and cuter.” 

Tears started to well up on your eyes, your hands started to hug your arms, it was a fact that you didn’t expect anything from him, but this? This was not even an option. Maybe some roses, a necklace, something not this big.

Except deep inside, you felt something changing over the weeks, and the gift you made was just because you wanted to show him a kind gesture. 

“You didn’t have to do this…” 

He closed the distance between you two. 

“I know, as you didn’t have to be nice with me since the very first encounter, but you did. You were so nice to me that I could not take you out of my head.” 

His fingers brushed your chin.

“Then—I started coming more often, sitting together, talking about each other, but what made me fall for you? You not even caring who I was and what I did or what I do.” 

You tried to say something, you really tried—but everything got stuck on your tongue.

“And if you don’t want to, this can mean nothing—just a nice date as a way to say thank you for the books, if you want this to mean something…”

“How could I… say I don’t want this to mean something? And not because ‘I have to’, I don’t care about that, but you—you have been so carrying to me, I know you must have a tight schedule, but you made time all those evenings just to…”

He pressed his lips against yours, his hand gripping the back of your head to make you still, suddenly your lips parted open and your tongue asked for permission to come into his lips, and something snapped, he hadn’t had this kind of intimate contact in a while, and you trying so desperately to feel him closer made him realize how much he had been waiting for this with you. 

The dinner was nice, he really did his best for you, you told him everything about your work day, things here and there, he was sure he could hear you his whole night and never get tired of you.

But something suddenly hit you on your face. 

“Bucky…” You looked at him, putting down your fork. 

“Is everything alright?” You nodded. 

“I really want this to mean something, but—I hate, I mean… I don’t like…”

You sighed, you hated when your mouth didn’t connect with your ideas. 

“Take a breath, if you need time to speak, take it.” 

“I’m fine… It’s just—I don’t think I can handle being in the public spotlight.” 

He knitted his eyebrows in the middle.

“I didn’t ask you for that.” 

“I know, but you are Bucky Barnes and a congressman… and not that I care, but I get too nervous if someone stares at me for more than a minute.” 

He chuckled. 

“I wouldn’t ask you to do something that makes you this stressed.” 

“And then?” You tilted your head. 

“Well, we can always have this coffee shop, some late–night dates, my apartment, your apartment if you wish. I don’t care where we are, I just care to share moments with you like the ones we’ve shared in the last months.” 

“But I don’t want you to think that I’m keeping you a secret…” 

“I really won’t think that. To be fair, I can understand your point of view, and it’s valid.” 

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” 

“For what? For not wanting your whole life on display? We are going to work something out, you just trust in me.” 

“And what’s next?” 

“Let’s enjoy tonight, and after that we can see what is next.” 

You nodded, his stern voice made you realize you were overthinking something he didn’t even care much about. And he really didn’t. 

At this point you got him wrapped around your finger. If you wanted a full display of your situation together he would sign all the paperwork needed; if you wanted to be a national secret he would do it in a heartbeat. 

He didn’t understand well what you had to make him feel this way, all he knew was that you weren’t the one taking advantage of it, and maybe that was what he most loved from the whole situation. 

He had seen many congressmen being used as sugar daddies, as a walking wallet with much less interactions—and there you were, buying gifts for him, preparing things for him as if you didn’t know he could buy your whole world in a blink. But you knew, and you didn’t even care about it.

The rest of the night he told you a part of his story, what he had been through, his life back in the forties, and every detail he gave you, made you feel important, he seemed happy to be able to say those kinds of things, as if he didn’t get the chance to do it as often. 

And that’s how everything started. 

Now, once a week and on Saturday you would spend your day and evening there, talking, eating, working, having some time together, and the first Sunday you got together, it was magical. He took you to his apartment—then he told you that was an apartment given by the government, he knew he was partially a benefit for being a congressman and partially to have an eye on him. 

You understood this was something so intimate for him and you were glad he felt so comfortable and confident with you to do such a thing. You ended up on his couch, your legs rested on his, while his hand caressed your thigh slowly, carrying, he enjoyed how your skin felt on his hand, he realized how many times he had thought about it without even noticing.

All those times he saw you sitting next to him, or the few times your legs touched each other by accident, he always wondered what your skin felt on his fingers. 

And now that he was touching paradise with his fingers, he felt like literally touching the sky with his fingers. And he loved every moment of it. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, Congressman Barnes?” 

“I am, I really am.” He purred. 

“Aren't you mad that we have to be in the shadows?” 

“I mean—I could parade you all over New York if you asked me, but I’m fine with this… privacy is something I don’t get as often as before.”