“I hauled this big heavy thing four flight of stairs. Just accept the thing so I can leave.” The man taps his foot impatiently at the floor.

Sighing, you take the clipboard from him and sign your name. He gestures for you to open the door so he can wheel the box in and you let him. He asks where he can put it down in which you pointed at a random space at your living room.

After the delivery guy has left, you inspect the box. Nothing seems out of ordinary except for its size. Grabbing a pair of scissors, you decide the box will not open on its own. You carefully drag the sharp edge of the scissors to free the box from it seal. Opening the flaps your eyes widen at what you inside. There inside the box is a man - dark chestnut hair, his chiseled face littered with few freckles, thin lips in pursed in a straight line, his eyes closed. Is he dead?! Panic surges through you, and you do something that people shouldn’t do when they see an assumedly dead body – you poke it. On the cheek. Which is incredibly soft, and cold? You shriek when you see steel grey eyes staring back at you.

“Apologies for startling you. My name is Nines,” his voice is rich and you are immediately drawn to it. “…and I’ll be your android companion.”

You open and close your mouth, gaping like a fish out of water, confused as hell as to what and why is this happening. “Android companion? I didn’t… oh god.”

Quickly pulling up your phonebook you search for his number. Only he can pull this kind of prank. The person on the other line hasn’t even said hello when you starts yelling at him, “I swear to god, Gavin Reed. Did you just send me an android boyfriend?!”

The boisterous laughter on the other line confirms your suspicions. Gavin is a childhood friend. When you were younger, he teased you mercilessly for not having a boyfriend, and you kept telling him it was because you hang around with a jerk like him too much. And when he went to the Academy, you just lost contact with each other. Until the other day, when he walks into the same café you usually get your coffee.

“You look so lonely reading your book with only a cup of latte or whatever,” you swear you can hear the snicker on his voice. “Just try and give it a few months, yeah?”

You sigh and shake your head, knowing there’s no saying no to Gavin Reed. Still as stubborn as ever.

“Fine fine fine,” you glance at the android standing at the middle of your living room, he seems to be inspecting his new environment. “But don’t they require. I don’t know. Maintenance?”

“Don’t worry about it. I have it covered. Plus that’s the latest model of its kind. It uh does it’s own self maintenance. So yeah gotta go. Bye.”

“Wait-“ you have a lot of more questions but before you can ask, he has already dropped the call.

“Is there a problem?”

You jump back, startled by the voice near your ear. It’s not everyday you have a male companion – human or android – in your living space. “No, I just haven’t done this before.”

He nods at your words, “I’d hate to make you uncomfortable in your own place. So let me know if I have to make adjustments to my configuration.”

“No, no. It’s fine. Just be yourself,” you give him a friendly smile, “This is your place now, too.”

_______________

Nines is seating in an almost 90 degree angle on the couch, feet planted to the floor, his eyes are trained forward, his LED spinning yellow. For the one month, you’ve been together, you’ve learned a lot of things about him, and he about you. You begin to notice his small mannerisms like how he subtly tilts his head to the side when he thinks.  

He begins to notice the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, or how you gently pats his arm when you laugh at something funny on the television. He also notices that there are days when you’re completely worn out from your job, but you still give him a smile and does your usual chores, ending up with you passing out on your bed.

You flop down beside him on the couch.  “Thanks for cleaning up the place by the way.”

“It’s my –“

“Yeah, yeah, it’s your job. Whatever. Still thank you,” leaning your head on his shoulder, you close your eyes. You can’t help but feel how nice it is to go home from work and find someone waiting for you. You are almost on the edge of falling asleep when you feel yourself being shaken awake.

“You have a perfectly fine bed."

“Nah, I’m perfectly fine here,” you bury your face on his shoulder, “This is my place now.”

You wake up the next day, still in the couch, blanket sitting lightly on your shoulders. You don’t know how you got into that position with your knees bent on the couch, head resting on Nine’s lap. There’s a slight soreness in the back of your neck but you don’t mind. All you can feel is the gentle caress of his fingers through your hair.

_______________

You are walking up the stairs to your apartment, silently cursing your building for not fixing the goddamn elevator. Nines is trailing beside you, finding it adorable amusing how you’re stopping every five steps to take a breath, a sound similar to a chuckle coming from him.

You are almost on your floor when something flashes by and bumps in to you. The impact so hard you feel air get knocked out of you. With your balance lost, you stumble backwards. You shut your eyes and brace yourself for the fall that didn’t come.

Nines holds you firm to his chest, “Are you alright?”

When you don’t answer, he turns you around. His eyebrows are knitted as his steel eyes frantically scans your body – neck, shoulder, wrists -  for any injuries.

“Nines. I’m okay.”

As if he doesn’t hear you, he drops on his knees and continues fussing over you, his LED spinning in quick red circles.

Using both your hands, you cup his head to make him look at you, “Nines. I’m okay. I’m fine.”

You watch as his LED slows down. Red. Yellow. Never letting go as it reaches Blue.

“You’re okay,” he mumbles more to himself than to you. “You’re okay.”

That night he tucks you to bed. You jokingly asks if he wants to share the bed with you, when he doesn’t respond, you squeeze his hand, bidding him a silent good night. He spends a few minutes standing at a dark corner of your room, watching you sleep.

The next day you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found.

_______________

It has been a week since you last saw Nines. You even contemplated tracking him down, maybe he has a GPS tracker or something, only stopping when you realize how weird that’ll be. He’s not some dog you own you can just track and put missing posters up for. He left for a reason. And the more you think about it, the sadder you get. The couch feels a lot bigger. Your apartment feels a lot emptier. Life feels a lot suckier.

A loud banging on the door followed by yell, “Police open up!”

What if they found Nines and?

You scramble to your feet and open the door. Your vision going red when you see Gavin Reed laughing on the other side. You swing a punch at him, connecting at his jaw. “You jerk!”

“What?” his signature stupid smirk on his face,  “I am police.”

“I told you, detective. That was not a good idea.”

The familiar voice freezes you on the spot. Tears starting to sting the back of your eyes. Nine is safe. He’s okay.

“Suddenly, you know her better than me? I know her since – ” Reed jeers. He turns to you , only to see you crying, face hidden in your hands. “ – woah – are you crying? You punched me yet you are the one crying.”

Your sobs becomes louder, barely muffled by your hands. Reed silently pleads for help to the android who is now glowering at the detective. Nines ushers you inside your apartment, and seats you in the couch - the same couch you two spent hours just seating side by side. Nines wraps his arms around you, letting you cry on his chest. The clean crisp smell of his clothes no longer sharing the smell of your own detergent, instead it reminded you of the first time you met him.

He waits for your tears and your shaky sobs to halt, and for your heart to rest in a steady beat. He waits for he knows you waited long enough.

And when you are able to calm down, he holds you hand, rubbing gentle circle with his thumb, gauging your reaction, calming your distress as he explains. He is sent undercover to survey the building. The guy who bumped in to you week ago is actually a wanted criminal, and if ever you see something that night, you’ll be in deep trouble that’s why Nines had to leave and make sure to capture the guy as soon as possible. His words falls in your deaf ears, your mind focusing only on two words.

“An undercover mission, huh? Just a mission. Just doing your job.” You try to act normal but ended up cracking miserably, “Why did you return then…”

Thoughts of him saying his goodbye springs in your mind, just as fresh tears does.

“I have nowhere to return to but here,” he squeezes your hand, “I was told this is my place, too.”

 ________________

When you reach the elevator with Nat, you let out a sigh. The spy raises an eyebrow at you.  

“I wonder why Bucky talks to Steve about me ---” 

 “Oh god, you’re still on about that.” 

 “---You know, I asked them about it. Both of them denied it and then Buck started avoiding me. I knew they were lying. Well, I KNOW Steve is lying. He’s so bad at it.” 

 Natasha chuckles at that, making you let out a small chuckle as well but the pain in your jaw instantly makes it a pained moan instead. With a heavy sigh, you continue. “I wish they just tell me. Scratch that I wish I didn’t ask….”  

 “Alright, go to your room. I’ll go get some ice for that.” She says pointing at your face, just as she pushes you out of the elevator which you haven’t noticed has stopped in your floor.  

  You quickly get a shower and change into comfortable clothes before plopping back in your bed.  Remembering that Natasha will drop by, you ask FRIDAY to keep your door unlocked, just in case you fell asleep.  

 A few minutes later you heard someone clearing their throat. You slowly open your eyes, the light blinding for a second, as you sit up.  Bucky is standing at the foot of your bed, holding an ice pack with his left hand.   

 “Am I dreaming?” You groggily rubs the sleep away from your eyes. He smiles fondly at you as he briefly thinks of wanting to see you in your every waking moment. The smile wiped away when you continued with a sad voice, “I must be dreaming because Buck is avoiding me like the plague.” 

 “Doll…” 

 Hearing his voice makes you snap out of the sleepy haze. 

  “Oh my god,” You try to act normal as if you just didn’t get all sad earlier, patting the other side of your bed asking him to sit down, “Buck? Heeeey, what’s up?” 

 You cringe at your own actions. When did you two get awkward? Oh wait yes when you decided to pry and he started avoiding you.  

 He sits down on your bed, like he usually does before, and you feel relief that he didn’t avoid you this time.  

 “I’m sorry—”  

 You both blurted at the same time. You both stopped to look at each other and burst out laughing.  

 When the laughter has died down, both of you with sheepish smiles om your faces, it is as if the veil of awkwardness that surrounded you both for the past week has gone.  

 Shuffling closer, you lean on him, your injured jaw pressed lightly on his metal arm, loving the cool comfort it gives. “I miss you, Buck.” 

 “I miss you too, doll.” He presses his lips on the top of your hair. “So much.” 

 He continues, “Romanoff knocked some sense in to me. Told me how much I hurt you by pulling away. I’m sorry. ” 

 You look up at him, biting your lip suddenly embarrassed that your feelings are exposed. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who should apologize for sticking my nose in to your business.” 

 He shakes his head disapprovingly. “No, I should’ve known better. The whole time I was avoiding you. I was hurting too.”  

 Sighing deeply, he run his hand through his hair, a very faint blush creeping on his neck. “The reason why I did what I did is because I was asking Steve for advice… …about how to take girls out these days.” 

 “Oh,” your mood drops but you muster as much cheerfulness as you can, “You could’ve asked me for advice!” 

 Bucky gives you a boyish grin, effortlessly seeing past your façade. “Won’t it be awkward if I ask advice from the same dame I want to take out.”  

 “I guess it will be but – Oh.” 

 Bucky watches as your facial expression changes from confused, to surprised, to absolute glee, all in a fraction of a minute. 

 “You want to take me out? Like on a date?”  

 “If you’d let me.” 

 “I’d love to.” 

 ________________

“I just realize I was right. You were talking about me then,” you say as soon as you heard the shower turn off. “God, I’m so good at lip reading.”  

 Bucky comes out of the shower. “The only thing you manage to get right was your name.”  

 You would have been annoyed with the amused look on his face if not for the fact that he’s wearing nothing but only a towel circling his hips, few droplets of water still clinging to his frame. You watch as a drop roll down his hair to his chest down the ridges of his abs and disappear under the towel.  “Well, I was told I’m so much better at lip kissing.”  

 You lick your lip, something he instantly mirrors with his own. He struts towards where you are seated on the edge of your shared bed, a dark look on his eyes. He takes gentle hold of your chin and crushes his lips to yours. With one hand on his chest, you can feel his heart beating fast. You other hand tangled in his chestnut locks, a deep grunt rumbling off him when you tug slightly. He pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, chuckling lightly when you try to chase his lips. “Yeah, so much better at lip kissing.” 

 “Shut up and kiss me, Sergeant.”  

 “Yes, ma’am.” 

 With no less fire from before, Bucky’s lips are back on yours. His metal hand is on your waist, toying and pulling the thin material of your shirt off. His skin is hot and damp from the shower, but his metal fingers are cold. You gasp at the contrast, and Bucky uses the moment to slip his tongue in between your lips. You get lost at the taste of him, at the languid dance your tongues and lips are making. You pull him in, wanting to feel him as close as you possibly can. He slots himself in between your legs.  A moan coming out from both your lips when his hardness comes into contact with your clothed core. You scramble to take the towel off him but he stops your hands. He places a gentle kiss to your wrists, and you can only watch, breathing heavily, as he drops on his knees to the floor.  

 Bucky places soft wet kisses from your left knee to your  inner thighs, nipping lightly, reaching up until before where you want him the most, only for him to repeat the process on the right one. The third time he did it, you cannot stop the whine. “Buck, stop teasing.” 

 He pushes forward, nudging your clothed clit with the tip of his nose before pressing open mouth kisses on your core, drowning and reveling in the scent and taste of your arousal. His steel blue eyes glint with delight at the sight of your disheveled form. He puts more pressure with his tongue, moving it up and down, occasionally sucking at the material of your panties, a frustrated moan is elicited from you. You open your mouth to say something but your throat feels very dry.  

 Pulling back, Bucky smirks, his metal fingers replacing his mouth, rubbing on your core. “I’m not so good at lip reading, doll. You gotta tell me what you want.” 

 “Fuck,” your voice coming out raspy, “Fuck me with your fingers, your mouth, your cock, I don’t care. Make me come, Bucky.” 

  “Gladly.” 

 He quickly slips your panties off you, the material thrown over his shoulder, as he dives back in to your slick. With no barrier between you, you can feel everything he does. You can feel the slight roughness of his scruff  and the flexing of his tongue as he repeatedly flicks it over your clit. You can feel the smooth plates of his metal fingers as he slicks them up and coats them with your juices, before finally pushing one, then two of them inside you. His flesh hand pries your hand off the sheets, pulling them and placing them on his head, urging you to hold on to him. You brush some of the brown locks away from his face, his blue eyes fixed on you, continuing his ministrations. A particular angle and deep thrust of his fingers makes you arch and lift your hips up, tugging on his hair, blunt nails scratching his scalp. He grunts and presses his flesh arm on your lower stomach to keep you still.  

 “I want to see your pretty face when you cum,” he breathes hot air in to your cunt. “Cum for me, doll.” 

 Upon hearing those words, the burning knot in your stomach snaps with it unleashing feeling of euphoria. Choruses of Bucky’s name leave your lips as white filled your vision. Thighs trembling as they clamp around Bucky’s head. His tongue drinking up everything you have to give. His fingers slowly getting you back to ground as help you finish your high. Panting heavily, you open your eyes to see Bucky getting up, licking his fingers clean. The towel on his hips magically still on but it does nothing to hide the outline of his hard cock. 

 “Need a break, sweetheart?” 

 “I-” you croak, shaking your head. A smug grin forming on his face knowing he was the cause. “I need you.” 

 He yank the towel off him,  but before you have the chance to ogle god’s greatest creation, he pounces on you. Skin on skin. Lips on lips. Tongue on tongue. He lets you get some air but his lips never left you. He playfully bites on your earlobe before skimming wet kisses down the juncture of your neck. He sucks and nips at the sensitive spot, making you roll your hips upward, earning you a hiss from him. Fumbling blindly at your bedside drawer, he fishes out a condom. You get a quick glance of his cock, red and angry, with a drop of pre-cum oozing from the slit. You take the condom from his hand and quickly wraps his cock, pumping it once, twice before he’s taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. He guides his cock, gliding and wetting it between your folds, before he’s slowly pushing it inside of you. When he’s fully sheathed inside you, Bucky falls over, bracing himself with his arms as to not crush you with his weight. With his eyes closed, he breathes heavily in your ear, cursing and praising at the same time. How fucking tight and wet you are for him every time. 

 He slowly pulls out until only the head of his cock is inside you, and then quickly pushes back in. The thickness and length of his cock reaching places you could never. He thrusts in and out in a steady pace. The delicious friction had you making noises of pleasure, not caring if anyone hears, fueling Bucky’s desire more. His grunts grow louder and louder with each powerful slam. The room filled with the sounds of moans, grunts, and slick sound of your sex.   

 The feeling of your velvet heat clenching around his hard cock makes Bucky’s movements stutter. You’re close and he knows. The steady pace long gone as he thrust in and out in quick succession. With his flesh hand, he reaches for your clit, pressing and rubbing circles on the swollen nub. A high pitched noise is drawn from your throat at the sudden feeling, jolting and clenching on his cock, as you reach your orgasm.  

 “Fuck, I love when you squeeze my cock. So fucking good to me,” Bucky speeds up, prolonging your orgasm as he reaches his. “Always so fucking good. Fuck.”  

 With a few deep thrusts, he slows down before collapsing on top of you, still careful with how fragile your body is under his. You rub soothing circles at his sweat sheened back, feeling the muscles relax under your touch. He lifts himself up, holds your face, and presses a sweet gentle kiss on your lips. His ocean eyes gaze back at yours. He begins to say something but cuts himself off. He silently mouthed three words, grinning when you understood and said it back.  

----------

Ever since you saw Nines back at the precinct, you couldn’t keep him off your mind. Even with your boyfriend, Connor, walking you up to your apartment, fingers intertwined, your mind goes back to the brief encounter you had with Nines.

 Internally, you scolded yourself. It was wrong to think of another man that way, right? Think of that night. The sadness you felt when he left. The longing for him to come back. The familiarity of it all. Your head spinning as a sudden realization hit you. It’s the same way you feel about Connor.

  You abruptly stopped in your tracks, words slipping out of your mouth without thought,  “Connor, I have to tell you something.”

 “Can’t it wait until we’re at your place?” He asked with mirth, pulling your hand.

 You stayed on your ground. Your grip on his hand tightening. “I have to tell you now, and then you can decide if you still want me.”

 Seeing your sullen expression, your head hanging low, eyes glassy with unshed tears, Connor dropped his playful act. He leaned in closer to you, letting you rest your head on his chest, his fingers slowly running through your hair, his voice gentle, “You can tell me anything.”

 Your eyes closed, relishing the feeling of his embrace. You could faintly hear the sound of his thirium pump and for a second, you almost changed your mind. You didn’t want this to be the last, but deep down, you knew he has the right to know. “I think… I have feelings for Nines.”

 Your breathing stopped as soon as you felt the comforting rhythm of his fingers cease. And when he carefully pushed you back, you wanted to cling to his shirt so bad, wanted to take back what you said. You wanted to reach for him but you didn’t. Suddenly feeling like an intruder stepping on to his personal space, you just bit your lip as the steady stream of tears flowed from your eyes. 

 “Oh, love. Don’t cry.” 

 Hearing those words was enough to give you courage. Your tears immediately stopped and you slowly lifted your head to look up at his face. The anger and disgust you were expecting to see wasn’t there, instead, the smile you’ve grown to love was on his face, a beautiful blue glow on his LED. When he introduced you to Nines, he knew you’ll treat Nines well. Did he expected you to fall for him? No. Did he do anything to stop it? No. Was it unconventional? Yes. But isn’t your love with each other unconventional as well?

 You choked, “You’re not upset?”

 Connor shook his head. His thumb gently brushes your tears away, “I’m lucky to have you, and Nines… He’ll be lucky to have you, too.”

 You raised your hand to touch him, fingertips lightly grazing his cheeks. His eyes fluttered close upon contact. He held your hand as he placed it fully on his face, loving the genuine warmth of your skin. He tilted his head slightly to press soft kisses on your open palm. Your heart skipping a beat when he opened his eyes – dark and glazed with lust. 

-----------------

As soon as the door to your apartment closed, frantic hands – both yours and his –mapped each other bodies. Clothes were haphazardly thrown and left on the floor. The image of your first time with Connor, he stepping off your grasp to pick up your clothes as he began to fold them and place them neatly on a chair, unaware he left you so hot and bothered until you pounced on him showing him how hot and bothered you were. You almost chuckled at the memory if not for your current situation. He learned a long way from then, you thought. 

 His lips was on you the whole time, hands not stopping their exploration. You didn’t even notice that you were led to your room until your back had hit the familiar softness of your mattress. Connor hovered over you, pressing his body against yours but careful not to crush you with his weight. Your hand was placed on his shoulder, the other grasping on the hair behind his neck. He grasped your chin, holding you in place as he slowly kissed your lips. Your opened your mouth, inviting him in, and without a second thought he jumped in, wanting to taste everything you could offer. You moaned when his addicting taste invaded your senses as his tongue languidly massages yours. You gave his hair a slight pull, prompting him to release your mouth, and a sound similar to a groan left his lips, making you clench your thighs together as you felt a tingle sent to your core. The action didn’t get unnoticed. His hand slides its way lower as his lips tracing a line of butterfly kisses from your lips to your chin, to your throat, sucking at the juncture of your neck. You pushed his head closer, a moan leaving you as Connor began to suck harder, sure to leave a purple mark you’d have a hard time covering up. Your breath hitched when the pads of his fingers skimmed past your hardened nipples, arching your back, wanting to get more friction, but his fingers didn’t stop. They continued their descent down your body, a strangled noise leaving your lips when you felt his fingers brush your swollen bud, dipping his index and middle lower as he gathered the wetness on your lower lips and spread them all over, making circular motions on your clit. 

 “Connor, please. I want you. Please.” 

 He shushed you with his lips, “You don’t have to beg. I’m yours to take.”

------------------

A/N: If you made it this far, thank you! Thank you for reading! Fun fact (or not), I crossposted this on AO3 and this fic has more notes/likes here on tumblr than my other dbh fic (think before), and vice versa. I wonder why...

“Look, as I’ve said before. The faster you give us the information we need, the faster you can leave.”

“No, no. I won’t speak to you either, old man.”

You glare at the woman through the large mirror of the interrogation room.

“Tell you what. I’ll only speak to the cute droid boy earlier. Is he there?”

Connor is silently standing next to you. The woman look straight at the mirror, making you groan in disgust when she started winking and making kissy faces at your direction. She has been constantly flirting with or rather at Connor the whole time after you pick her up.

-----

You are seating at the passenger seat, eyes on the rear view mirror, regretting calling shotgun.

“If only I knew the DPD has someone like you, I would’ve come sooner.” She is seated way to close to Connor, her hand twirling and smoothing the android’s tie. Connor is looking down at her hand, but not making an attempt to remove it or whatever, and for some reason, it pisses you off. “You can even cuff me, officer."

Oh that’s it. You awkwardly clear your throat so hard you feel like it will feel raw later but at least the woman inched away from Connor, but not before she gave you a wolfish smirk. You choose to ignore her, your eyes fleeting to Connor whose own set is now fixed at you through the mirror. He tilts his head cutely slightly to the side, as if asking if there’s something wrong. You roll your eyes, sighing, choosing to look out the window instead. How can someone be both smart and stupid at the same time?

You hear Hank snigger at your side. Great, even Hank thinks it’s funny now.

“No, you’re the one who’s funny,” he remarks, his eyes are focused on the road but you can see them crinkle in mirth.

“What did I do?” you asked in hushed whisper for which he only shakes his head in answer. Knowing you won’t get anything else from him, you stare out your side of the window, throwing glares at random objects passing by, not knowing the android seated at the passenger seat has his eyes on you the whole time.

The second Hank put the car on park, you immediately bolt from your seat and onto the passenger door. Sending a sickeningly sweet smile at the woman, you escort her out of the vehicle, purposely slamming the door shut, escorting the woman into the precinct. Okay, maybe you’re still upset

Hank is supposed to get out of his seat when Connor speaks. “Did I do something, Lieutenant? The detective seems upset with something I did.”

“Oh for god’s sake, you ask her. I’m not playing cupid for both you.” Hank huffs before exiting the vehicle, leaving an even more confused android.

-----

Connor suddenly calls your name, unintentionally making you send your murder glare (aimed at the woman) at him, the intensity of it making him worry even more if that’s possible. “Did I do something to upset you?”

His voice is so small you can’t help but instantly soften your eyes. You feel bad, because 1.) He looks genuinely sorry about something he doesn’t know he did and, 2.) you know he did nothing wrong .

“I-“ Your voice cracks, your throat raw both from the silence and your stint earlier. You open your mouth to explain but Hank is already opening the door. You didn’t even notice him exit the interrogation room.

“Connor, you’re up.”

Connor just stands in his place as if he didn’t hear the lieutenant. He just stands there, waiting for you to say something

Hank clicks his tongue in annoyance, “Connor.”

Connor is jolted from his reverie. He gives you one last look then he turned to Hank, giving him a nod before exiting the room.

When he already disappeared from the room, you let out a breath you didn’t know you held. You watch as Connor waltz in the interrogation room, voice clear, completely professional. Unlike the Connor who was standing with you a few seconds ago. You can’t stop the small smile that formed in your face.

“He asked me if he did something to upset you.” Hank is not looking at you as he speaks. “Told him to talk to you cause I’m not playing fucking cupid for you, kids.”

It’s your turn to smirk at him now. “So why are you telling me this?”

Hank shrugs. “Because you’re both idiots, that’s why.”

Hank isn’t going to admit it but he rather have you and Connor look like lovesick puppies than kicked ones.

-----

You sit on your desk, too lazy tired to do paperwork. Today is oddly exhausting, more than usual.  Connor was able to coax the information out of the woman so at least she’s gone now. You laid your head on your desk, sighing deeply. You catch a whiff of something. Feeling a presence beside you, you turned your head to see Connor holding a paper cup to your direction.

“Ginger tea. It’ll help with your throat."

You sit up, mumbling a soft ‘thanks’, before taking the cup from his hand, your fingers slightly brushing his.

He stands awkwardly beside your desk and again you feel bad. He seems to be walking in eggshells around you now.

“Connor, why don’t you pull up a chair so we can talk?”

-----

Hank drops a ton of paper at your desk, making your laughter cease. “I see you’ve kissed and made up.”

“Well, we haven’t kissed yet but we definitely made up.” You quip, sending a toothy grin at Connor.

“Detective is just explaining why our informant wanted me to cuff her. Apparently, it's a form of sexual- ”

You beam proudly at Connor, nodding, while Hank grimaces at you, grumbling at how you're back to your old ways of corrupting the boy.

--------

A/N: Not sure if any of you will read this but if you do, thank you! I just want to let you know that even though I'm starting to write outside of DBH, this fic is my happy place, and I'm extremely grateful for your patience and your comments (they're a delight to read). Anyway, have a great day to you all. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)

Tag list  (thanks for wanting to be tagged!) : @butterfly-bonez @jellicorn05

An accidental slip he instantly regrets when he feels you freeze beneath him. Thoughts of something ending without it being started yet creeps in to his mind. Thoughts that are cut off when something wet and sticky is smudged on his face. Your mud-covered hand is hovering near, a toothy grin on your face followed by another round of laughter. God, he really does love you.

“I love you.”

It was under the beautiful Wakandan sunset, the skies painted in a blend of orange, yellow, and indigo, a few stars peeking out, their light barely visible but they’re there.  Just like how your love is there, you don’t say it but it’s there. So when he uttered those three words again, needless to say you are surprised. The first time he said it you think you misheard him. Today’s is a reaffirmation, and just like the first time, you were unable to say it back.  

You stare at him with mouth open but no words come out. He gives you a gentle comforting smile, his hand raised to tenderly brush your cheek,  “You don’t have to say it back. I just want to let you know.”

Because he’s a semi-stable hundred year old man, and now that he’s given a second chance in life, a chance to say what he wants, a chance to bare his soul to someone on his own volition, he will take it.  He didn’t expect you to say it back, and you didn’t, and it’s okay, because as you tightly gripped his hand, and rested your head on his shoulder, an almost unintelligible “thank you” coming from your lips, he knew. You just needed time, and he’d willingly give it to you.  

Some people will get offended, but he didn’t. He hums and presses a kiss on the top of your head. Your tense shoulders relaxing as soon as you felt, releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, a sense of relief washing over you. He still loves you. _______________

You are just talking with Shuri, thanking her for her help with Bucky's new vibranium arm. She only laughs it off saying how it's kinda became her job to "fix white boys". She suddenly looks behind you, a snide smile forming on her lips.  

“Sergeant, you forgot something?”

You turn to see Bucky standing by the door. He looks contemplative for a second before he casts his gaze on you. He doesn’t answer Shuri's question, instead he just makes quick strides to where you are standing.  He tilts your chin up with his metal arm, and dips down to capture your lips with his. Pulling back, he whispers those three sweet words.

A lump forms in your throat which quickly dissolves when he brushes his thumbs across your cheek, a silent reassurance that it’s okay.  

“Thank you.”

He nods to you, and then to Shuri who is watching the whole scene with a goofy smile on her face, before he turns to leave.

As soon as the door closes shut, Shuri almost half-screamed, half-asks, “What was that?”

“What was what?”

Shuri clears her throat and lowers her voice, imitating Bucky’s, “I love you.” And then switches to imitate yours, “Thank you.”

You roll your eyes at her, and shrugs. She laughs but doesn’t push any further, making you narrow your eyes at her.  

She shakes her head at you, “It’s just nice to hear you are loved…  …Don’t you think?”

…

Running as fast as you could, you sprint through the halls. Damn his long legs. “Bucky!”

He stops in his tracks and meets you halfway. A quizzical look on his face as he takes in your form. Your hand in your chest as you try to catch your breath while he rubs circle at your back to soothe you. “Bucky, I-“

“Sergeant Barnes?” A  Wakandan warrior pops out in the corner, relaying a quick message about a quick briefing.  

“I’ll be right there.” Bucky calls out before turning to you. “Doll, you were saying?”

You shake your head. Now’s not the time.  “Be careful out there, Bucky.”

He pulls you to his arms, and presses a soft kiss on the top of your head, hand softly running through your hair. He once again whispers the words you feel but fail to say

_______________

Five years have come and go. The Battle of Wakanda has left many wounded physically. The Snap has left many scarred emotionally. Friends and family gone in an instant.  

Your brain keeps on replaying the last time you saw him, as you watch his back disappear from your view. The chance to tell him how you feel gone in an instant.

“I didn’t get to say I love him, Steve.”

Steve says your name with a hint of his Captain America voice as if reprimanding you for emotionally torturing yourself.

“He says it to me all the time. I didn’t even… not even once,” you continued. “…and now, I’ve lost my chance.”

Steve lays a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I’m sure he knows.”

_______________

The sound of birds chirping signifies their return. The mission is a success. They are back. Everyone is back.  

You stand frozen in your spot, as you look over at Bucky. His brows furrow in confusion as you assume Steve is explaining what happened. He glances up and catches sight of you. He taps Steve’s shoulder, and makes his way to you, a smile spreading on his lips, blue eyes shining brightly. Your same old Bucky from five years ago. The same Bucky who caresses your cheek and kisses the top of your head.  

“Doll?”

But you are not the same you from five years ago. Because now that you are given a chance to let him know, you’ll take it. You’re done thinking it’s not the time. So when he says he loves you just like he usually do, you press a kiss to his lips. A smile lighting up his face when you whispered back the words he waited so long to hear.  

“I love you, too.”  

_______________

A small child you recognize as one of the officer’s daughter, runs around the floor. She is wearing a kiddie police uniform costume, her cap too big for her, must be her dad’s. You resumed your work, can’t help but smile at the child’s innocent, soft giggles.  Suddenly you hear a thump. The poor girl’s cap slid before her eyes, and she tripped, making her crash to the floor. You rush to her side, helping the little girl stand. Her eyes are red and watery, but no tears fall from her eyes. 

 “What a brave little girl you are,” you pat her head, while checking her out for any injuries. “Does anything hurt?” 

 She shows you her wrists, and you inspected it for any broken bones or anything. Must’ve put pressure in it while trying to break her fall. “My Mama said kisses will make the boo-boo go away.” 

 You take her wrists and place a kiss. “There is it all better?” 

 She nods before she goes running off again, but not without giving you a hug and thanking you.  

 When you come back to your desk, Connor is staring at you. 

 You give him a narrow glare, “What? I can be good with kids.” 

 You hear Hank snort and you feign a hurt look. Connor only shakes his head before returning to his work, his lips turned up in a small smile. 

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Everything happened so fast. One moment, it’s all going so well. You successfully made a guy, high from red ice, release his hostage. Next moment, you are on the run, chasing said guy. Gunshots are heard. Your shoulder throbbing in pain as you are forcefully tackled to the ground. You power through the pain, cautiously sitting up and then tries to peek through. Keyword is try because as soon as you did, more bullets rain on your direction, and you have to thank your android companion for immediately pulling you back down, saving your life yet again. 

 “I won’t be able to get a clear shot at this rate, Connor.” 

 He pauses for a minute, and you swear you can almost hear his mind gears working as his LED quickly spins yellow, before he speaks, “I can act as a decoy. Give him a distraction so you can get a clear shot.” 

 You give him an incredulous look,“No way. We stay down. Wait for back-up.” 

 “The perpetrator is under extreme stress. Coupled with the amount of red ice on his system, his next movements are highly unpredictable making him more dangerous. I strongly suggest we do something now, detective.” 

 “You’re right,” you take his hand and place your gun on his palm, “But I’ll be the decoy.” 

 This time it is his turn to give you a look which made you feel like you have grown another head. “I can’t have you –“ 

 “Look. My shoulder got pretty banged up. I don’t really trust my aim,” you explain. “I trust you.” 

 -------

 Connor is standing by the door, watching you fumble around the pantry. He insists he makes you the coffee but you adamantly says no, that you can do it yourself. Making coffee with one working arm, you learned, is a bit difficult but you made it work. 

 You lift the cup to your lips, inhaling the aroma of freshly brewed coffee – coffee you prepared with one arm. You take a sip, completely forgetting it’s straight from the maker hot. You push the cup away, the liquid sloshing around and spilling to your fingers. Before you can even hiss out in pain, Connor is already pulling you to the sink. The cold water feels like heaven on your skin, or is it his hand? His hands feel so smooth and soft as he gingerly rubs yours. 

 “I told you I’ll do it.” Connor says as he pats your hand with a paper towel. His brows furrows, lifting your hand, inspecting it turning it side to side.  

 “Well, technically I was able to do it on my own. I just –“  

 You are cut off by the feeling of placing a soft butterfly kisses to your fingertips, tongue peeking out to occasionally lave at the skin. 

 You stare at him in shock, eyes wide as saucers, a voice inside of you asking if you're daydreaming again, “What’s happening? What are you doing?” 

 His mouth still relatively close to you can feel the velvet brush against your knuckles as he whispers, “Kissing it better.” 

 “Oh, okay.” My tongue got burned too just so you know. 

 Hank who is about to get a cup of coffee exasperatedly calls your name, “For fuck’s sake, stop corrupting the boy.”  --------

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy the fluff and the tension. Keep safe and always stay healthy, lovelies. :)

Upon hearing it opening, you whip around to the direction of the door. A bright smile plasters your face when you see the person come in. “Steve! What brings you –” 

You stop when you realize he didn’t come alone. Walking a few steps behind Steve is his best friend, Sergeant James Barnes. His right hand is clutching his metal arm, and you know then that something is wrong. A frown is now on your lips, eyebrows furrowing in concern.  

Bucky notices the change in your demeanor. He is used to people reacting that way upon seeing his metal arm, and yet, it still hurts a little bit each time, hiding the pain in a mask of trained impassiveness. Not to mention, Steve keeps on saying good things about you the whole time from when they were at the quinjet until they’re back at the tower.

“This is Bucky. He’s my best –”  

You push past Steve, completely ignoring his introductions, as you step towards his friend, eyes still fixed on the vibranium arm. “Oh no,  you beautiful thing .” 

Bucky is surprised. Over time he has heard plenty of words used to describe his metal arm, not one of them used the word  beautiful . Hell, even he himself, won’t use that word. He looks at Steve who only shakes his head, a knowing smile on his face, like he knew this will happen. Bucky watches wide-eyed as your hand touches his metal arm from the top of his shoulder, sliding downward where you accidentally touches his flesh hand holding on to his metal ones. The contrasting feeling pulls you out of your trance, and immediately you step away, giving him back his personal space. 

“I’m so sorry! I promise I don’t go around touching people! Mister, I mean, Sergeant James Barnes, Sir.” A faint blush colors your cheek and only if you look up at his face instead of the floor, you’ll see Bucky has a matching blush on his cheeks too. 

Steve chuckles, placing an arm on your shoulder, “So as I was saying… This is Bucky, my best friend. We ran into some problem while on mission and now Bucky’s arm won’t work. We’re hoping you can help?” 

You elbow Steve on the ribs,  “Why didn’t you say sooner?” 

“I tried.” 

“Well, you didn’t try enough.” 

“And miss you calling Buck a beautiful thing?” 

You groan in frustration, “I meant his  arm . No offense Mr. Sergeant Barnes Sir. It’s not that I don’t think you’re not beautiful I think you are but wait that’s not the point.” 

Another chuckle from Steve makes you glare at him. “So… I’ll leave you two alone.” 

Steve turns to his friend, “Buck, will you be alright?” 

Bucky gives him a nod, strangely feeling at ease with being left alone with you.  If Steve trusts you, he can trust you, right?

You are so engrossed with your Starkpad looking for the files Princess Shuri ("Just Shuri!", she'll say) sent hoping anything can help that you didn’t hear Steve exit the room, nor heard Bucky move behind you to look at the tablet you’re so occupied with. His curiosity gone in an instant as your scent invades his senses, and unconsciously he moves even closer. 

Feeling the sudden hot breath behind your ear, you jump in surprise, making Bucky step aside, mumbling a soft apology. He is once again surprised when you laughed his apology off. “It’s okay, Sergeant. It seems like we have a penchant on invading each other’s personal spaces.”  

After about an hour or two of searching and failing to find a solution, you finally call Shuri and amazingly, she answered in a single ring. 

A sly grin in her face. “Need help with your beautiful thing ?”  

“My what?!” You feel your face burning, peeking sideways to check if the  beautiful thing   soldier seated a few feet away from you heard. Relieved that he seems nose deep with a book he grabbed from the shelf, you sighed in relief, turning your attention back to Shuri. “How did you even… Never mind. Yes, I need your help.” 

And only if you paid more attention, you'll see the tips of his ears ,peaking from his tresses, turning red.

---------

“You feel that?” 

Bucky nods, unable to form words, unable to say that he’s feeling more than the pressure of your hand as you carefully press it on his shoulder. You repeat the process on the whole length of his arm, varying the pressure, and squeezing every now and then. After making sure that everything is in order, you stand up, a proud grin in your face, masking the wee bit feeling of sadness realizing that your time with him is over. “You’re clear to go, Sergeant Barnes. Sorry for keeping you so long.” 

That feeling completely diminishing as you watch Bucky flexing his vibranium arm,  experimentally wiggling his fingers, and smiling at the regained mobility. 

He thanked you for your help before proceeding to door. You hum in acknowledgement, back turned to him as you occupy yourself with placing tools back to their respective places, wanting to smack yourself in the face for feeling like he’s walking out of your life when in reality he’s just walking out of the door. 

Someone clears their throat, and when you cast your eyes on the source, you see him still standing by the door. Swallowing a lump in his throat before he speaks, “Bucky. You can call me Bucky.” 

As he leaves the room, he doesn’t know if it’s the way you say his name as you bid him good night or the ingenious smile that graced your lips.

And only if he is still in the 40s, not so broken as he thinks he is now, he will say it instead of just thinking about it.

He thinks you’re a beautiful thing too. 

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