#fadefilter

a birthday fic for @fadefilter

— —

Captain America catches Bucky as he fumbles down the steps like he’s the goddamn prince from Enchanted.

“Whoops-a-daisy,” Captain America says with this big sincere smile as he helps Bucky back up to his feet.

“Thanks,” Bucky says, not entirely sure what happened in the past thirty-five seconds, but very grateful to Captain America for catching him before his glasses slipped off of his nose and broke on the concrete steps outside of Avengers Tower, where Bucky just finished covering the latest Avengers press conference for the Times. He’s been on the Avengers beat for almost a year now. It never gets old.

“Not a problem,” Captain America says. “Sorry I wrinkled your shirt.”

Bucky looks down at his shirt; it is no more wrinkled than it was when he pulled it off of his bedroom floor this morning, but it’s nice of Captain America to give him enough credit to have had a neatly-pressed shirt beforehand.

“See you around Bucky,” Captain America adds with a wave as he bounds down the steps.

Bucky waves after him, kind of watching his back retreat into the distance, and it’s not until after he’s out of view that Bucky’s journalistic instincts pop back up and he asks himself:

How does Captain America know my name?

— —

He gets off work around seven, then gets a wrap with extra garlic tahini sauce, which gets on his fingers and his wrinkled shirt, but it’s worth it because yum, and starts to snoop.

He goes by James Barnes professionally, so it’s not just because Captain America looks into who’s covering Avengers events. He does have super soldier hearing — or, at least Wikipedia says he does — so maybe he overheard someone saying Bucky’s name?

But Bucky can’t remember the last time someone at one of these press conferences actually called him Bucky.

Which means he must know from somewhere else.

— —

He spends four hours looking into every conceivable way they could be connected, but:

Captain America does not follow him on Twitter

He is not living in Captain America’s pre-war apartment, which he wants back

His relatives neither fought alongside or were saved by Captain America during World War II

Captain America does not go to the same gym

There is no evidence that Captain America is also on a first name basis with Sol, the guy who makes Bucky’s wraps and always remembers to give him extra tahini

It’s disappointing. Frustrating. It must be that—

There’s a notification for him on his non-work-related email. The email he uses for his blog, because when he gets home from a hard day of reporting the news, he immediately gets online and writes think pieces about the news from a queer perspective.

He remembers that oh yes, he should check his blog, and goes to the page to see stats and comments and whatnot, and his eyes fall on a comment from a few days ago:

Thank you for your perspective on this. Your work is always a pleasure to read.

It’s a little awkward and a little stilted and it’s also signed from…

SGR.

He searches his comments for others by SGR and there are… a lot from the past two years.

Most are just thanking him. A few ask for his perspective on something or a clarification. He even commented on a selfie Bucky sort of vainly put up, telling him that it was very cute.

One comment, from very early on, just says:

I wish I could go to Pride.

And Bucky’s heart breaks, just a little bit.

— —

Since he’s on the Avengers beat, it’s not long before he has another opportunity to see Captain America, Steven Grant Rogers again.

He asks his question, then sits back down, and really looks at the guy. He seems a little awkward and a little formal in this setting, his blond hair pushed back and off of his face. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to think of him being interested in LGBT issues, right?

Maybe it is.

But Bucky signs his blog posts under the name Bucky.

— —

He didn’t expect his request for an interview to be accepted, but a week later, he’s sitting in Captain America’s room in Avengers Tower. Bucky had suggested they go to a nearby coffee shop or a restaurant, but Captain America was pretty adamant that they do it in the Tower, which, sure.

But it’s a little weird to sit close to Captain America, whose leg is jiggling with nervous energy, this phone between them.

“Before we start,” Bucky says, “can I ask you a question off-the-record?”

Captain America blinks.

“Sure thing,” he says.

“I don’t want to come off as a narcissist, but do you read my blog?”

There’s a beat, then another.

“Yeah,” Captain America says. “Yeah, I do.”

Bucky nods.

“Alright then, Captain—“ he starts, but is interrupted.

“Steve,” he says. “Please call me Steve.”

Bucky looks up. They lock eyes. And they start the interview.

Neither of them talk about it.

— —

After it’s published, Steve calls Bucky.

“Hullo?” Bucky says, almost having swallowed his muffin.

“Hi, Bucky, I…” He hesitates. “I really liked the interview.”

“Thanks, so did my editor,” Bucky says with a chuckle, then a cough, as a muffin crumb gets stuck in the middle of his throat.

After Steve asks him if he’s okay, he says, hesitant, “How’d you know I’m a fan?” His voice comes off light, but there’s nerves behind it, Bucky can tell.

“You called me Bucky when I fell over that one time.”

“That’s not your name?”

“My by-line is always James.”

“Oh,” Steve says, then laughs. “Caught me, I guess.”

“Took me a while to figure it out,” Bucky says, looking at his muffin longingly and contemplating if it would be rude to take a bite. “Started to come up with all sorts of conspiracy theories.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“I was living in your dead family’s apartment and you wanted it back, so you were playing an elaborate rouse where you tripped me, leading to a seduction, a quick marriage, and a transfer of property.”

“And how do you know that’s not true?” Steve asks.

“I asked my landlord. My building wasn’t built until 1963.”

Steve laughs again and it’s honestly a really nice sound. You don’t hear it often during press conferences.

“The tenement I lived in was pushed down ages ago, and even if it wasn’t, I’m fine without having a bathtub in the kitchen.” He hesitates. “But there’s one part of that I think may be true.”

“What’s that?”

“The seduction part.”

In retrospect, Bucky is glad he didn’t take a bite of his muffin. He would be spitting it out.

“What?” Bucky croaks.

“Or, at least, a date. If you’d be interested.”

“With me?” Bucky asks, agog.

“I read your blog, I know you’re single. And since we know each other now, I thought it wouldn’t be too much of an issue if I asked you out. No pressure, but…” he trails off.

About a thousand different thoughts fly across Bucky’s mind all at once, but only one word comes out of his mouth:

“Yes.”

— —

I tried to go and leave you behind, what did I find? I took a trip on a train and I thought about you. If these two break up, they’ll get back together eventually. Below are my Top 5 Favorite stories:

For the Summer

written by @corarochester​ and @steebadore​ art by @fadefilter​ for the 2020 @notanotherstuckybb​

Fifteen years ago, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had been two teenagers in love, spending sweltering summers in Eagle Inlet, Steve's sleepy lakeside hometown way up in the Adirondacks. Sure, Bucky's rich family only came up in summertime, but they were off to college soon and they'd be together forever, right?

Not quite.

These days, Bucky's back in town for the summer and it turns out, some hurts—and firsts—are hard to get over.

... There was something venomous and fiery chasing itself through Steve’s veins, choking the life out of his common sense. He put a hand on Bucky’s waist, small and tight, shifting with Bucky’s quick breathing and he squeezed, trying to ground himself. It didn’t work. There was hardly any space left between them. Bucky’s hair brushed the tip of his nose. It was citrus and sweat and like a gut punch of memory. “We could see if I’m any better now,” Steve said. “I’ve had a little more practice since then.”

Chapter 1/ 6 is up now, updating every Tuesday and Thursday!