It has been a year.

A year since you and Law broke up, since you left the crew.

It was a hard decision. The Heart Pirates were your family, the Polar Tang was your home, and Law was your other half. You thought of staying, but the idea that you had to stay in one place with the person you had hurt, it didn't sit right with you.

So, you had to make the decision and left the Polar Tang.

You weren't a pirate anymore. You'd become a civilian in a small island you found after a month of traveling alone. You opened a small bakery shop around the market to earn money, but today you decided to close it and have a time for yourself.

A year seemed like a short period of time, but a lot has changed within that timeframe.

Your hair is short now.

You lost weight.

You looked more matured.

And, you'd grown into a better person. A better version of yourself.

That was the important part.

The wind was strong, blowing your hair in different directions. You clutched the pocket of your hoodie tightly as you stroll around town. Well, the hoodie wasn't exactly yours—it was Law's.

You had a habit of stealing Law's clothes before, so when you left you had brought a lot of his clothes with you—shirts, sweaters, and hoodies.

You never thought of throwing it away, you never had the guts to, because it was the only thing that reminded you of him. Some of the shirts left untouched, so you could preserve his smell. Some hoodies were worn on nights you think of him, some sweaters were worn on times you missed him.

And there were times, you wished he'd come and get those hoodies back.

Did he not notice that a lot of his clothes had been stolen by you? Did he not miss his favorite hoodie? Did he not miss you?

You almost elicited a bitter laugh under your breath, how could you think he would miss you when you were the one who left him? You're selfish.

A few kilometers away from you, the roaring engine of the Polar Tang surrounded the ocean as it prepares to surface. The loud cheering of the crew reverberated against the metal walls of the submarine, because finally they'll be able to dock and rest for a while.

The island was small, yet visibly lively. The crew had already rushed out of the ship and in the island, screaming of incoherent praises. Their captain, Law, suddenly felt something—a sudden stir in his core, a sudden feeling of nervousness he couldn't comprehend where he got. He tried to shake off the feeling and walked towards the island with the crew.

The town was bustling, there were few stalls, and different shops. The plan was to restock their medical and kitchen supplies, but he allowed the crew to also do what they want.

"Captain, are you alright?" The polar bear asked him, curious.

"Yeah," Law answered shortly.

He couldn't ignore the raging storm inside him. The more he walked deeper into the island, the more he felt his stomach flipping. It was though his body was giving him warning about something unknown, like it had already felt something before he even saw it.

And, there it was.

When he turned to the corner to find a bookshop, he saw the familiar brown hoodie that he hadn't seen in a year. A thick orange line fell from the top to the back of the hood, below it engraved perfectly was the name of Corazon, and the jolly roger of the Heart pirates was drawn on it.

There was no doubt, it was his hoodie.

Law carefully rushed towards the person, no one other than him could have that hoodie because it was customized to his liking. So, that was when he knew, you were the one wearing the hoodie.

After leaving the bookstore, you felt a gaze piercing through you—hot and almost drilling holes at the back of your head. You had a gut feeling, your intuition was telling you something. But what do they say? To see is to believe.

Your footsteps halted, and with a deep breath you slowly turned around. There was an impossibly tall man across the street from you, he was staring at you or perhaps your hoodie.

Law.

Your breath hitched.

Because God.

Oh God.

Oh how much you've missed that damn handsome face of his.

You saw him swallowed, yes you did. Because you were just what–6 or 7 feet apart from each other.

Close, yet so far.

Your feet was frozen in spot, your mind going blank. You didn't know what to do, a part of you wanted to run, but another part was so done of running away.

Back then, whenever you thought of accidentally seeing him in an island, you thought he'd be mad at you or glare at you and push you away. But right now, all of those thoughts were wiped out of your mind—Law was looking at you with relief.

He was relieved to know that you are alive.

He was relieve to see that you are doing okay.

And, that pained you more than the day you left him.

Because, what do you mean his first thought after seeing you was relief and not anger or hatred.

The staring contest had gone for more than five minutes, each of you making the most out of those minutes. You were examining each other physically: his built changed, he became more lean, taller than you last saw him, dark circles under the eyes. All those changes, and yet he still looks at you the same way—with love.

Your eye contact broke for a moment when a big polar bear came crashing towards you, crying. "Y/N! It's really you, I'm so happy to see you!"

Then, the crew followed suit.

Ikakku hugged you tightly, "Oh.My.God. I missed you so much."

"Hey, you cut your hair." Penguin commented.

"You lost weight too, are you not taking care of yourself?" Shachi nagged.

Whispers. Comments. Questions. Then, someone dropped the bomb.

"Isn't that Captain's hoodie?"

"Oh! Yeah right, so this was why I no longer see him wearing that hoodie."

"Wait, don't tell me you have his other hoodies too?"

"The yellow and black one."

"The blue one too!"

And in the midst of all that chaos, your eyes found his again and his? It never left yours.

Everyone stopped talking and breathing, when their Captain started walking towards you. It was like everything paused—the time, the world, the people, everything.

Your first word wasn't hi nor hello, it was stupid. "Are you gonna take it back?"

"You can keep it."

Oh good heavens.

His voice.

His deep voice.

Your breath became uneven, knees almost gave out. You weren't mentally prepared to hear his voice again after a year. Seeing him for the first time again was already doing something inside you, but this? Hearing his deep voice you love so much, it made you want to just collapse on the ground.

It was your weakness.

But that wasn't the end of it, because maybe he intended on making you go insane.

"But, I'm taking you back."

You stopped breathing.

You suddenly couldn't hear. Couldn't see. Couldn't feel. You felt like your body was about to really give in, fortunately, Bepo saved you. His big furry paw held the small of your back as if he sensed that you were about to fall.

The whole crew was watching you with intensity, their breaths caught up in their throats. No one moves, no one speaks. They were patiently waiting for your movements, or so you thought.

A hand pushed your back, it wasn't aggressive, but it was hard—hard enough to send you stumbling forward.

Your body collided against Law's firm ones, his toned arms instinctively wrapped around your lower back to keep you on your feet. His hold was tensed yet gentle and familiar, and his scent that you loved instantly lingered on your nose.

Too close.

Your faces were only inches away from each other, you could almost feel his breath against your skin. For a moment, it felt like the world stopped spinning again, like it was only the two of you existing together.

You noticed how his mouth opened slowly, then closed immediately. It was then the realization hit you hard and you pulled away from him, panicking.

"I'm sorry!" You could feel your face flushed, mixed of embarrassment and flattery.

Law could only shake his head, curling his fist to the side as if to restrain him from reaching for you. His arms felt so empty and cold when you left his grip, like he had just lost you again. And that brief moment was enough to ignite something inside him, something that made him feel insane from longing.

That's it.

He's not leaving the island without you.

There was a moment of silence, it was awkward and full of unspoken words. Fortunately, the crew noticed the sudden changed in the air and decided to make the mood lighter.

"We should eat!" Shachi proposed, earning an approval from the rest.

Penguin clapped his hand, then pointed at the small restaurant that he spotted. "Right, this calls for celebration!"

If there was something you wanted to be thankful for, it was that the crew didn't treat you differently. They treated you the way they always did, like you never left. They made you feel like you had always belonged with them, and that year of disappearance wouldn't stop them from seeing you as their family.

Ikkaku sat close to you, Bepo kept checking if your comfortable, Penguin and Shachi made sure that the place was bright and no dead air.

Law was quiet, just like how he always was. Silently observing the crew, speaking only if one of the crew had asked or told him something. He was respectful of your boundaries, not wanting to be a pushover and make things uncomfortable for you.

You catched up with them.

They told you of their adventures, the monsters, the enemies. The funny story of how Shachi fell on his butt on a random night at the Polar Tang or the sad story of how Bepo secretly cried in his quarters after you left, and he genuinely thought the crew didn't know about it.

They asked about you. So, you told them you were running a small bakery, that the people in the island were nice to you, and that you were enjoying your life here. But the crew knew better—afterall, the eyes never lie.

Well, how could you even tell them that you never felt like you belong anywhere after leaving the crew?

Oh, well, you didn't have to. Because, they knew.

"If you ever consider on coming back, we left a space for you in the Polar Tang." It was the most heart fluttering words you've ever heard in a year.

You almost showed vulnerability. You felt your eyes brimmed with tears, so you quickly looked away and pretended you something interesting outside.

Law saw that. And it broke something inside him.

By the time the sun had already set, the crew bid their goodbye for the day. They said they would stay at an inn for the night and will leave tomorrow afternoon. They didn't simply informed you, they wanted you to know that you still have time to think.

Before you parted with them, you whispered something to Law that you instantly regretted. "The shop is open until 9pm."

It was simple and Law is a smart man, he knew what you meant. He knew that it was time to finally fix everything.

It was already a minute before 9pm, the light at your shop was still on, and the hopes in your heart was slowly fading. If he wanted to come, he could've already been here right? But he isn't.

With a frustrated sigh, you stood up and walked towards the door about to lock it.

Knock.

Knock.

Your soul almost left your body from the sudden knock. You stood there, holding the doorknob for another second before finally opening it.

It was Law.

He impatiently pushed the door open and locked it behind him when he entered. His gaze wandered around the small wooden bakery, and noticed how vibrant it looked.

Your heart was thumping hard inside your chest that you pray wouldn't be heard with the deafening silence that surrounded you two. When Law finally looked at you, his gaze soft and tired. The side of his lips twitched in what looked like a small smile when his eyes went down on your clothes—you were wearing a new hoodie, but still his.

Law sat down at one of the table, clearing his throat softly, the silence was killing him.

Panic surged inside you, so you immediately offered to make a coffee for him. You awkwardly moved around your kitchen, making his coffee just the way he wanted it. Black and bitter.

When you placed the coffee in front of Law, he eyed it for a good second. "You remembered."

You carefully sat in front of him, watching him drink his coffee. "Of course, I do"

Then, you found yourself smiling. You were happy to see him, and thank heavens he's doing okay. It still felt surreal, him sitting in front of you, drinking the coffee you made for him. If it was a dream, you never want it to end.

"Why?" Law softly asked.

You shook your head, embarrassed. "I'm just…glad I got to see you again."

He paused for a second, mouth slightly opened like he couldn't believe you just said that. You unconsciously pulled the strings of his hoodie, his eyes slightly widened in shock. You had forgotten for a moment that pulling the strings was one of your way to tell Law you need him. You used to do that all the time, sometimes to tease him, to annoy him, but most times it was because you needed him.

You realized what you did when you saw his reaction, you immediately waved your hands in front of him. "Sorry, it became a habit. I didn't notice."

Law's lips pursed in a thin line, doubting at first, but decided to just drop it.

"About what I said earlier," he trailed off. "It's true."

You tilted your head a little, trying to remember which one. But before you could even reply, he spoke again.

"I'm taking you back."

"But, Law…"

"Unless, you're already…" He swallowed, preparing himself to say the words. "Unless, you're already dating someone else."

"No!" Your answer came out faster than you thought. "I mean, I'm not seeing anyone."

Law heaved a sigh, relief washing over his face. "Good."

"But, Law…" You hesitated, but he was waiting for you to continue. "Why do you want to take me back?"

He blinked. He wanted to say because he wanted to, but he knew he should be honest—to you and to himself. He decided swallow the emotionally constipated person that he was only for this moment.

So, he did.

"Because," you held your breath, "I still love you."

Your eyes blurred, it was from the tears that were threatening to fall your eyes. You looked away from his gaze, not wanting him to see you like this.

But Law didn't stop, tonight he would tell you how he feel—raw and honest.

"I looked for you everywhere, in every island we docked into." He lowered his gaze, feeling a little embarrassed. "I promised myself that if I ever see you, I won't let you go again."

Law's fingers tapped lightly against the table, trying his best to keep his hands to himself. "A year of not seeing you was a torture to me, and I don't want to go through that again."

You heard it: the sincerity in his tone, the longing, and the fear of the possibility of not being able to take you back.

Law was never a talker, not one to express himself through words. So, when he speak about what he feel and of his truth, it reveals the real him—the one no one knew of, the one he kept locked away from everyone to hide his vulnerability, but lets you see it anyway.

"This is driving me insane, Y/N. You don't know how much I'm holding myself back, right now." His tone wasn't aggressive nor mad, it was calm and a little desperate.

Your fingers found the strings of his hoodie once again. You pulled it. Twice. To let him know, this time, it wasn't unconscious nor out of habit. This time, it's real. You need him.

"Then, don't hold back."

Law immediately stood up from his chair, his hands dragging your chair away from the table to give himself space.

His lips crashed against yours.

Rough and thirsty, like he had been waiting for this his whole life. His calloused hands found the back of your neck, deepening the kiss even more. Your hands then held his toned arms, slowly moving up towards his broad shoulders.

Law's tongue glided softly over your bottom lip, asking for access. A soft grunt left his mouth when your fingers tugged at his black hair, your tongues started a battle no one wanted to lose.

You pulled away for a second, trying to catch your breath. But Law was thirsty, so he captured your lips into his again. His hands moved down your body and rested on your waist for a second, then moved lower to your hips, lifting you up from your chair to change the position.

This time, he was the one sitting on the chair and you were sitting on his lap, feeling his hard bulge between your thighs. Law made a guttural sound upon the contact, the feeling of you on top of him only made his member more harder and bigger. His large hands continued to explore your body—scared that if he let go, you'd disappear from his sight forever.

After minutes of making out, you both let go of each other's lips. Law's forehead resting against yours, his uneven breath hitting your skin.

You laughed, "You're hard."

"It missed you." He only smirked, then he thrusted his hip a little to tease you.

You were supposed to snort at Law's comment, but the feeling made you elicit a low moan—turning him on.

But despite the hotness and the urge that he felt in his body, you noticed the look in his eyes. It was soft and you melted into it. Your hands reached for his face, softly brushing his cheeks just under his eyes. Your fingertips carefully traced the arch of his brows, the bridge of his nose, and the shape of his lips, seemingly memorizing every detail.

Law's other hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from touching his face more. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're memorizing me, so you can remember me even if you leave."

You snorted, shaking your head. "You're over analyzing things again."

Law just shrugged, his expression unreadable but there was a faint of softness flickering around it.

Smiling, you pressed a quick kiss on his lips. "Aren't you taking me back, Captain?"

Captain.

The name echoed through Law's ears, then his lips twitched into a small smile. Really small one, but you know it was there.

"I already did." He said with a hint of proudness lingering on the way he said it.

A soft chuckle left your mouth. "Then, I'm not leaving."

Law just stared at you before sighing, a relieved one. Finally, after a year of waiting, he's holding you again. You belong to him again.

"I'm sorry, Law, for leaving back then. I was a coward. I couldn't hold you while I try to fix myself, because I thought staying while being miserable would be selfish." Your voice trembled, your feelings spilling out all over him.

You paused for a while, observing Law's face. "But, I also think that we needed that rest. I needed that, and I'm here now. I can you love you better now."

Law caressed your cheek, it was warm enough to make you smile. "Just don't leave again."

Your eyes softened, "I won't."

His hand slid at the back of your neck, pulling you closer until the distance between you disappeared. His lips brushed yours, this time, slow and gentle, because he had already calmed down. His heart was already certain that you won't be going anywhere without him.

And in the quiet night, your moans, his name, heavy breaths, and the sound of your bodies made when touching, were the only things heard across the bakery.

With every touch and every kiss, Law made sure you knew who you belonged to.

Law stayed for the night. Sleeping soundly next to you, and a little clingy for his own liking. His body surely betrayed the cold facade he always showed.

The sun has risen, peaking through the windows of your small abode at the upper floor of the bakery. The world has started their day, except for you and the clingy tiger beside you. When you tried to remove Law's arms around you, he only groaned and tightened his grip even more.

"Captain, you're cuddling me." You whispered just enough for him to hear, your index finger poking the tip of his tall nose.

Law grunted, eyes still closed and arms still around you. "This is a proximity maintenance."

You laughed, loud. The sound made him snap his eyes open, staring at you as if it was his first time hearing you laugh. "What?"

"You're beautiful." Law whispered, his eyes staring at you with tenderness.

You bit your bottom lip trying to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot. He just complimented you out of the blue. It wasn't like he never said that before, but the way he always says it makes your heart flutter.

"I missed you, Law." You muttered. "Your hoodies kept me warm for all the nights you weren't there."

Law's hand touched your hair, his fingertips raking through your it while he silently listen to you.

"There were times…I wished you'd take me back." You laugh to yourself, remembering those moments.

"I wanted to," Law answered, "But I also figured, maybe we really need time to distance ourselves from each other for a while."

You nodded at his statement, completely agreeing to it.

There were times you felt like both of you were getting suffocated of the relationship, you were hurting him, no big improvements, and it felt like you needed to really breathe. It was hard that you had to break up just for you to grow and learn, but well, isn't love sweeter the second time around?

You wanted to regret it at first, because you were lost when you let go of Law. But now, you think it wasn’t a really bad decision. You've learned a lot, grown a lot, and you could say this version of yourself was the one you're sure would love Law in all right ways.

"I'll love you better in every ways you wanted and needed to be loved. I'll make sure you won't regret getting back with me."

Those words were the assurance that Law needed. His chest eased, something inside him was able to breathe and lose the weight he had been carrying since you left.

"Then stay," he whispered, his voice low. "Stay and let me do the same."

The edge of you lips twitched downwards, shaking a little from feeling emotional. Your arms immediately wrapping around him as you buried your face against his chest, hiding your teary eyes.

Law continued to stroke your hair, and somehow it calmed your nerves.

"I love you." The words slipped past his lips, tickling something deep within you. "I don't always say it, but I do."

You pulled away from his chest to get a better view of his face, his cheeks was hot and there was a faint pink across it.

You smiled mischievously, "Is that really you, Captain?"

Law rolled his eyes, he did. Then, he glanced away, acting annoyed. But you could see the edge of his lips turned upward, smiling from your teasing.

You grabbed his cheeks, turning his face to look at you. "I love you too, Law."

Law closed the gap between you, kissing you gently.

But it didn't last long, because you heard a group of people outside calling "Captain!"

One went–"Captain! I know you're here!"

Then the other–"I know you wanted to take Y/N back, but don't you dare forget about us!"

Someone even yelled–"Stop getting freaky and open the damn bakery!"

Of course, it was the crew. They really don't have any dignity left with them when their Captain isn't with them.

You quickly stood up, pulling out a new fresh of clothes from your closet while Law watched you. Then, you opened the window and screamed at the crew.

"Will you shut up!?"

Penguin screamed back, his hands were around his mouth. "I'm gonna continue screaming that you did freaky things with the Captain if you don't open the door for us!"

"I will tell him to split you in two!" Laughter erupted from their filty mouths, and you swore, you heard Law laughing too.

You turned around and picked up his shirt on the floor, throwing it on his lap. "Nothing's funny, Captain."

He snorted. "Well, we really did freaky things."

"I swear, I'm gonna throw you out." You groaned, annoyed.

Law smirked. "Bet you can't do it."

"You're annoying."

"You're wearing my hoodie again." He muttered, his eyes moving up and down your body.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Are you checking me out?"

"If I am?"

"Aren't you a little perverted today, Captain?"

He laughed again, the sound was low and genuine—breaking into his usual cold composure.

Then, you heard Penguin's voice.

"She's taking so long, maybe she can't walk because of her freakiness with the Captain last night." It was obvious that he was pretending to say that to someone in the crew, and making sure you heard him loud and clear in the process.

Your fist curled on your side, ready to retort an annoying remarks back at him. But, Law's loud thoughts interrupted you.

"I should've been rougher."

Your eyes widen at what he just said. Indeed Law was a little pervert, you knew that so damn well—but you thought, he was a little off his usual character today.

"You're kidding."

He shrugged, "I'm not."

You walked closer towards the bed and stopped at the edge of it, your hands lightly touching Law's forehead and neck to check his temperature. "Are you sure you're okay? You didn't hit your head or anything?"

"Tch. I'm just…being playful with you." He said the last few words in a small voice, as if regretting showing that side of him.

Your lips curved into a gentle smile, "Well, I like it…" Law found your eyes, waiting for you to continue. "Actually, I love your playful side."

His shoulders relaxed, the tip of his ears red from hearing that assurance. You heard him scoff to hide that small joy peaking from his face.

Law was known for his cold and tough demeanor, being playful wasn't in his vocabulary—but with you, he wasn't afraid to show that side because you were a safe space for him.

At the Polar Tang, some of the crew were loading the ship with all the supplies they'd bought from the island, and some were doing a quick check up of the ship to ensure safe diving.

Their Captain, stood in the middle of the deck with his coat hung over his broad shoulder, barking orders to the crew.

The truth was, Law was only doing that to hide his nervousness.

After spending the morning at your bakery with the crew, you told Law it'd take a little while for you to pack your things and bid your farewells to the villagers. You kept assuring him that you’ll see him at the Polar Tang before noon, yet he couldn't help worrying and thinking you might not show up.

Law had stopped giving orders after a few minutes and fell deep into his thoughts that he didn't notice right away your appearance.

It was only when the crew screamed your name that he snapped out of his thought.

"Y/N!"

"I'm so glad you're back!"

"I knew this was coming, I got the feeling."

"I won the bet! I told y'all they'd get back together."

"No you didn't, because everyone knew this would happen."

Their voices only died down when you yelled, "Help me, you idiots!" They went down rushing towards you to get all your stuffs and brought it inside the ship.

When everything was settled down, Law walked over to you. His arm around your waist, and pressed a quick kiss at your temple when no one was looking.

"Did I worry you?" You asked, grinning.

Law tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes speaking for him before he even say the words loudly. "Yeah, thought you'd change your mind."

"Well, I hoped you have a lot new hoodies in your closet."

"I came here prepared." Law replied, his tone was laced with confidence.

Your smile only grew bigger, and his arms around you tightened.

The hoodies weren't just pieces of his clothing—it was a claim, a reminder of what you two have. If it weren't for his hoodie, he might not have been able to find you in the crowd. Or if he did, he wouldn't really know if your heart still belongs to him.

And for sure, Law would be buying tons of them in every island you'd dock into.

You heart melted at the thought of being in the Polar Tang again, seizing through the depths of the oceans with your family—with Law.

This time, you swear you're not leaving again.

This time, you'll hold Law's hands tighter than anything.

And this time, you don't have to spend the days and nights alone with his hoodies because Law is with you again.

Something about space. Something about respect. Something about “maybe we shouldn’t do this if we’re just going to keep circling the same stupid arguments.”

And just like that, two people who had survived missions, near-death experiences, and months of quiet, careful healing together… ended over a protein bar and wounded pride.

It would’ve been funny if it didn’t feel like losing a limb.

Now, the compound felt split down the middle.

Yelena had immediately declared herself captain of Team You, dragging John along with her, who nodded like he’d been waiting his entire life to pick a side in something dramatic. Even Bob hovered awkwardly nearby, trying to stay neutral but very obviously siding with whoever Yelena was glaring at less that day.

Across the hall, Ava and Alexei had claimed Bucky with equal enthusiasm.

It had turned into a full-blown turf war.

Petty. Loud. Stupid.

Exactly like the breakup.

“You know he’s miserable, right?” Yelena muttered one afternoon, perched on the kitchen counter while you aggressively chopped vegetables that did nothing to deserve your anger.

You didn’t look up. “Don’t care.”

“You do care,” she sing-songed. “You are just stubborn.”

“I’m not—”

“You cried in the shower yesterday.”

You froze.

She smirked. “Water does not hide everything, you know.”

You pointed your knife at her. “If you tell anyone—”

“I already told Walker,” she said cheerfully.

“Yelena—”

“I am kidding. Relax. You are very tense. You should kiss your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected. “Temporary condition.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt. “We’re not getting back together.”

“Mm,” she hummed, unconvinced. “We’ll see.”

---

It didn’t happen on a mission.

There was no dramatic explosion, no heroic sacrifice, no battlefield chaos.

It happened because you slipped.

Bare feet, slick tile, a stupid puddle you hadn’t noticed after your shower—and suddenly you were on the floor with a sharp, shocking pain in your ankle and a yelp that echoed off the bathroom walls.

“Shit—”

You tried to stand, immediately regretted it, and dropped back down with a hiss.

It wasn’t bad.

Not really.

But it hurt, and the shock of it made your eyes sting.

“Hey—hey, what happened?”

Yelena’s voice was suddenly there, followed by footsteps and the bathroom door swinging open.

You were halfway to saying you were fine when the pain pulsed again, sharp enough to steal your breath.

And before you could stop yourself—

“Bucky.”

The word slipped out, small and broken.

Yelena blinked. “What?”

Your throat tightened. You shook your head, embarrassed, but the panic had already latched on, irrational and overwhelming.

“I— I need—”

Another throb of pain. Another wave of tears.

“Bucky,” you said again, louder this time. “I need Bucky.”

Yelena didn’t hesitate.

“Walker!” she barked out into the hall. “Go get Barnes. Now.”

“I can just—” Walker started.

“Now.”

There was a beat of silence, then hurried footsteps.

You tried to laugh it off, wiping at your face. “This is so stupid. It’s just my ankle—”

“It is not stupid,” Yelena said firmly, crouching beside you. “You are injured and dramatic. Both are valid.”

“I’m not—” Your voice wobbled. “I just—”

You didn’t even know how to explain it.

It wasn’t just the pain.

It was the instinct. The reflex. The way your body, even after everything, still reached for him first.

Like he was home.

---

Across the compound, Bucky barely processed Walker’s words.

“—she’s asking for you.”

That was all he needed.

He was already moving before the sentence finished.

“Where?”

“Bathroom—she slipped, I think—”

Bucky didn’t wait.

He ran.

Past the kitchen, past the living area, past Ava calling his name and Alexei asking what happened. His heart pounded hard enough to make his ribs ache, a familiar, terrifying rhythm that only ever showed up when it mattered.

When you mattered.

The door was already open when he got there.

You were on the floor, wrapped in a towel, hair damp, ankle already starting to swell—and crying.

His chest clenched.

“Hey—hey, I’m here,” he said immediately, dropping to his knees beside you. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby.”

The word slipped out without thinking.

You didn’t correct him.

You didn’t even hesitate—you just reached for him.

He gathered you carefully, one arm braced behind your back, the other steadying your injured leg.

“Easy,” he murmured, voice soft and grounding. “Don’t move it yet, okay? Let me see.”

“It hurts,” you whispered, pressing your face into his shoulder.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your damp hair. “You’re okay. I’m here now.”

The room had gone quiet.

Yelena leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching with a smug, knowing expression. Walker hovered behind her. Somewhere down the hall, you could hear Alexei loudly announcing that he’d been right all along.

Bucky didn’t notice any of it.

He was too focused on you.

“Can you wiggle your toes?” he asked softly.

You nodded against him, doing as he asked.

“Good. That’s good.” Relief flickered across his face. “Probably just a sprain. We’ll ice it, wrap it up. You’ll be okay.”

You sniffled. “I feel stupid.”

“Hey.” His hand tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to look at him. His expression softened, something warm and achingly familiar settling in his eyes. “You’re not stupid. You got hurt. You called me. That’s… that’s okay.”

Your breath hitched.

“I didn’t even think about it,” you admitted quietly. “I just—”

“Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “Me neither.”

There was a beat of silence.

Heavy. Fragile.

Then you huffed out a small, watery laugh. “We broke up over a protein bar.”

Bucky blinked.

Then, despite everything, a breath of laughter escaped him too. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

“That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” he admitted. “I’ve made a lot of bad decisions, but that one’s up there.”

You studied him for a moment, really looked at him.

God, you’d missed him.

“Me too,” you said softly. “I didn’t want to be done. I was just… mad.”

“I know.” His thumb brushed under your eye, catching a stray tear. “I didn’t want to be done either. I just didn’t know how to fix it without making it worse.”

“You could’ve tried.”

“I should’ve,” he said immediately. “I should’ve come to you. I should’ve—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache.

“I’m sorry too.”

Another pause.

Then, quieter—

“Are we really done?” you asked.

His answer was instant.

“No.”

Something in your chest loosened.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay,” he echoed.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment like he needed to make sure you were real.

Then he shifted, careful and steady as he lifted you into his arms.

“C’mon,” he murmured. “Let’s get you patched up.”

You curled into him automatically, your arms slipping around his neck.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, baby?”

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“I missed you.”

His grip tightened, just slightly.

If Buck keeps baking, he decides he owes Ravi his own Baked Alaska. Or a croquembouche. Maybe an opera cake—he's watched a couple of people on YouTube make them and it'll be hard, too, probably, but he's pretty sure he can do it. He's halfway through the mental inventory of his kitchen when he realizes—that's only if he keeps baking. It's a hobby he enjoys, and a skill that he's proud of, but he doesn't need to do it as a distraction. Not anymore. He doesn't need to distract himself to keep from calling Tommy—or from talking about Tommy, thinking about Tommy, wanting Tommy—because he finally has Tommy back where he wants him. Right here.

He hadn't had any thought about picking up when he and Ravi went out—and he probably wouldn't have if it had been anyone but Tommy. Seeing him again, though, had made all the pining, all the feelings he'd tried to suppress even more acute. Combine that yearning with how badly he needed a distraction from Eddie leaving, and Buck was surprised that they managed to make it out of the bar.

But they did, and that had been a good night. He hadn't expected anything from it, was ready to watch Tommy walk out the door again and then get started on a victoria sponge with one of the first harvests of strawberries he'd picked up. But Tommy had been the one to suggest that it could mean more, that they could try again—asking if Buck was free Saturday just like he had the first time.

And they met up Saturday, talked things out, exposed their vulnerable underbellies, got a lot of their misunderstandings sorted. They fucked again, too, sure, but that was kind of what he expected. He wasn't going to let how good they were in bed distract him from other important relationship stuff. Buck’s got open and honest communication marked down on his to-do list right under getting his back blown out.

So he thanks Ravi again—tiramisu? pavlova? firefighter helmet macarons? he should maybe ask Ravi what he actually likes—and breathes in the warm smell of the man beside him.

“Mmm, stop that,” Tommy says, batting his hand away where Buck had been rubbing idly at his pec.  He flicks the nipple and Tommy grunts, pushing him off his chest.  “Brat.”

Buck laughs and presses himself closer into Tommy’s side.  “I don’t care,” he says, “I’ll own it.  I’m a brat.”  He nuzzles into the juncture of Tommy’s neck and shoulder and then snaps at the skin with careful teeth.  “It’s not my fault you like it, old man.”

“Hey.”  Tommy’s hand sinks into the hair on the back of his head and tugs, just enough to let him feel it.  He likely means it as a punishment but joke’s on him, Buck likes it.  “Watch it, kid.”

Buck grins, big and wide, and shimmies up a little to kiss Tommy firmly on the mouth.  The banter is derailed for a minute by some making out, but it never gets heated, staying slow and soft and sweet as they trade slick, tender kisses.  Buck teases at Tommy’s lips, licking gently into his mouth, and then sucks at the wet muscle of his tongue.  Things de-escalate into lazy pecks, and then they separate, no longer so tangled up together but still close and warm.

Buck pulls away, but keeps their bodies pressed together. “So,” he starts, in the most casual way he can. “Does this mean we’re back together?”

Tommy shifts onto his back and smiles up at the ceiling, then turns his head on the pillow to look at Buck. His eyes sparkle as his face splits into a grin. "Is that what you want?"

“I mean I'm not opposed to just this,” Buck says, gesturing between their bare torsos on the bed, “But I-I never wanted together to stop, Tommy." He feels his cheeks heat and he draws a nonsense pattern on the skin of Tommy's arm, distracting himself from the pull of Tommy's gaze. "I want to be with you. Yeah. Please. That's what I want." 

Tommy grabs Buck’s hand and laces their fingers together.  “Evan,” he says, his voice so soft and fond it makes Buck blush even harder.  His face burns, but it feels so good, as always, to be the subject of Tommy’s attention.  “Of course.”  He raises Buck’s hand and presses a slow, lingering kiss to the back of it.  “That's what I want, too. To be with you. To have a second chance. So.” He lets the hand he's holding go and waits until Buck makes eye contact. His mouth softens into the gentlest hint of a smile. "Boyfriends?"

“Yeah,” Buck says, nodding like his head’s on a swivel before Tommy’s even got the word out.  “Yeah, I’d.”  He cups Tommy’s face and grins.  “Yeah,” he says again.  “I’d like that, too.” He drapes his arm across Tommy’s abdomen and burrows into his side as much as he can. “I know you have to go to work, but other than that?” Tommy smells like sweat and Buck’s laundry detergent, and he breathes in, his nose pressed to Tommy’s skin. “You’re staying here. In my bed, where you belong.” His grip tightens. “I’m not letting you go again.”

Soft breath fans across his temple. “I’m sorry,” Tommy says.

“Hey, no, it’s—“ Buck shifts up so he can meet Tommy’s eyes again. “It’s okay, we’re good.” A crooked smile opens up his face. They can joke about the break-up now, he thinks. They can tease. “I should have, uh, blocked the door or something.  Forced you to stay.  We could have got all this talking out of the way then and saved ourselves months of being miserable and alone.”

“Hmm.”  Tommy tries to smile, but the expression fades after a moment.  He looks up to the ceiling again and shifts his hand under his head.  His elbow sticks out and it shows off the strength of his arms. Buck wants to bite them.  His mouth waters at the thought and his hips twitch, but he ignores it, tries to keep himself under control.  There’s something thoughtful in Tommy’s face.  Something that, before, would have meant he was about to shut down and close up.  Buck watches as he takes a deep breath and decides to open up instead.

Tommy’s head turns a little, rustling the pillow and he looks at Buck with eyes shot through with something like regret.

“You know,” he starts.  Then he huffs, a little curl of breath through his nose.  He licks his lips.  He looks back up to the ceiling and his lips quirk up, a wrinkle in the corner of a self-effacing smile.  When he speaks, his voice is quiet.  Low, even for the close, intimate setting they’re in.  “I think I wanted you to chase me.”

Buck’s whole body stiffens.  “Wh-what?”

Tommy laughs a little, and he sounds self-conscious about it, careful to keep his eyes away from Buck.  “I got scared… and I left.  I regret it and I feel like I’m on borrowed time for how lucky I am that I didn’t screw things up permanently.  That you gave me another chance.”  He grabs Buck’s hand and brings it to his lips for another kiss.  “But I had convinced myself that I knew better than you.  That you weren’t serious.  You asked me if I was breaking up with you… and I hadn’t thought about it like that, not really.  I didn’t want to, but I felt like… I had to.  Had to break my own heart so that I could be sure you wouldn't break it. Bigger and worse." His smile slides into something self-deprecating and his eyes shine. "Really fucking stupid of me in retrospect."

"Yeah," Buck says, and it seems like that's all Tommy has to say, but he's not letting the subject go that easily. "But, uh. Tommy, what… What did you mean that you wanted me to chase you?"

"Well." Tommy takes a deep breath in and Buck feels the rise of his chest. "After the… Mmm. After. I thought." He stops short again, and blinks a few times. Buck lets his hand settle against Tommy's warm skin, trying to impart as much silent support as he can. "I thought that if breaking up hadn't been the right thing to do, that if I had been premature… Then you would have reached out and let me know. You would have fought for us, like I was too much of a coward to do. And when you didn't, I let myself believe that I'd done the right thing. That, well. That you'd realized you were better off without me, or you'd already moved on." He huffs again, rolling his eyes at himself. "Kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess."

Buck's arm snakes further around Tommy's body and he pulls them together as close as he can. He buries his face in the swell of Tommy's chest, nosing at the hair there. "I'm trying really, really hard not to be mad at you about that right now."

"Go ahead," Tommy says. "I deserve it. I can't expect someone to chase me if they don't know I want to be chased. And it's not like I reached out, either."

But you wanted to, Buck thinks. You bubbled me.

And he knows, from the talk they'd had that Saturday after the bar, that Tommy has always felt left behind. That he doesn't expect people to chase him at all, because he doesn't think he deserves to be chased. That he's always going to be the one people forget or throw away. No, Buck hadn't chased him. He hadn't known at the time that Tommy wanted that, that he could have run Tommy down and forced him to talk things out.

It was shitty that Tommy broke up with him instead of talking. But Tommy didn't owe him a relationship, and he had just as much right to break up with Buck over a misunderstanding as over anything else. It didn't mean that it hadn't hurt. But it also didn't mean that Tommy was the villain. Buck had thought, at the time, that Tommy not reaching out meant that Tommy wasn't hurting as badly as he was. That the relationship hadn't meant as much to Tommy. He hadn't realized that Tommy was a dumbass who would rather passively suffer than risk getting hurt by going after what he wants. When Buck wants something, he tends to tip over into excess. He grabs and grabs and holds on so tight that it chases things away. When Tommy wants something, apparently, he hopes it falls into his lap and when it doesn't he uses that as an excuse to justify all the worst parts of his worldview. It makes Buck nearly sick to think that if he'd just reached out… If he'd let himself run after Tommy…

Buck grunts as his grip tightens. He throws a leg over Tommy's hip and nudges his knee up until it makes contact with the soft weight of Tommy's dick. He wishes that he could get his mouth on it, that he could keep Tommy warm and wet and feel him harden under the soft petting of his tongue. But he doesn't know how to ask for that, not when things are so new. He thinks Tommy might take it as a deflection, as Buck using sex to make things easier, take some of the pressure of the conversation off. And that's not what Buck wants at all. He takes in a deep breath and then lets it out slow. "So if… if Ravi hadn't—"

Tommy's hand cups the back of his neck, his palm large and dry and warm. "Hey. But he did. And I don't really know Ravi, but if he ever needs a helicopter…"