what am i even doing

They do the same dance like last time and once again, his knee bumps into hers. There’s a swirl of conflicting butterflies that instantly fills her belly, but Y/N does her best to tame them down - I do not want a relationship with this guy, I’m perfectly happy on my own, we’re just having a conversation.

“Now I have to know. Why exactly are you up at 7 in the morning again?” 

“I told you, I’m getting to work.” She shrugs at his raised eyebrow, takes a sip of her coffee. She knows her schedule is crazy, she’s well aware of that, but she won’t let a guy who wakes up at 5 pm and goes to sleep at 9 am judge her. “I’m Stark Industries’ CEO’s executive assistant. There are all sorts of unusual requests that I get in my line of work.”

“Wow. Pepper Potts’ assistant, huh? That sounds intense.” Steve whistles and she can’t help the sense of pride that swells in her chest at his blatant admiration. And it’s not just because everyone and their mother has heard about Stark Industries and its CEO, it’s because she’s worked her ass off for this job. Right to the point she uprooted her entire life for years just to work in their London headquarters.

“I had to put all that bullet journaling and colour coding I did in high school and college to good use.” Y/N shrugs and she’s rewarded with that raucous laughter yet again. 

“And I’m here not even knowing what day it is.” 

“Well, you did say that together we’d make an invincible human being.”

“That’d be a glorious human being. No one could stop us.”

There’s a mischievous glint in his eye that Y/N doesn’t miss. She likes it, although Nat’s words keep banging around in her brain and she’s doing her best not to melt under his gaze. God, he’s cute.

*

Y/N bumps into Steve every day for the two weeks. Or rather, he shows up half an hour after she starts going through her to do list for the day with a comment about their sleep patterns. One moment she scribbles down a meeting and the next, he bumps his knee to hers. She’s come to expect him, even going to the point where she subconsciously leaves a corner of the table free for him.

Today, however, she’s running late. She’s been stuck in traffic for more than she’d like and she knows there’s going to be a huge line at the coffee shop that will significantly cut down her time to enjoy her morning ritual. Y/N wonders if there’s any point in stopping by anymore. Even the tables must be all full and she might as well just head into the office and settle for a quick coffee in the cafeteria downstairs. 

I’m not going to see Steve today, she thinks right when her phone dings with a new notification. It’s a red light and she’s already been standing in line for more than five minutes so she picks the phone up and sees a follow request on Instagram from Steve. What the fuck? Right when a new message pops up in her inbox.

I just realised we never even exchanged phone numbers so I was left to my only resort, like a teenager!

I hope you’re alright, I’ve been sitting here for 10 minutes and there’s no sight of you. This feels too lonely for my liking.

There’s this feeling blooming in her chest that she doesn’t want to describe in words. She knows all too well what it might be, but for her sanity and the promise she’d made, Y/N would rather live in denial. Just friends, nothing more, I don’t want a relationship with a guy who’s still hung up on his ex, I don’t need that type of shit in my life again has become her new mantra recently, but they’re friends, right? She can’t just leave him on seen.

Stuck in traffic. Will be there in 5...hopefully!

The line is long, just as she’d predicted - spanning right up to the door and there are girls there who look like their orders might take a year just to spell them out. That cafeteria sure sounds great right about now, but there’s Steve and he’s waving at her, a huge grin splitting his face. Just as sleep deprived as ever, yet it’s the first time his t-shirt looks clean, no frayed ends or tears in sight, no smudges of wine or coffee on it either. 

She dumps her bag on the chair, gives him a one armed hug and a quick kiss on the cheek - where’s that smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke she’s used to? and nearly stumbles to the ground in her haste to get to go get her coffee. He catches her wrist with his hand, strong fingers lacing around her skin and it burns as if a fire’s been ignited right there to that spot, spreading to her whole entire body. She looks down, confused, yet he’s all smiles and sunshine today. 

“Where are you going?” Steve asks and she tries to move from his grasp, she really does, but what she wants most right now is to lift her hand just a tiny bit until their fingers lock for just one second.

“To get coffee?”

“I got it for you.” He says, nodding towards the two cups on the table that she hasn’t noticed until now. “I figured you’re probably running late and thought there’s no point for you to wait in line.”

“Oh! Thank you, Steve.” Is all she manages to let out as she slips on her chair, eyes focused on the swirls of caramel in front of her.

Avoiding eye contact is probably her best course of action, she figures. She doesn’t want him to see the gratitude in her gaze, or how she’s forcing a smile down, or the way she’d love to pepper his face with kisses just to thank him for this small kindness on this terrible morning. She definitely does not want him to see how her fingers itch to trace his name on her cup, right as his knee brushes against her, as always.

“How did you know I would even show up? I was just on the verge of going straight to work before you sent me that message.”

“I didn’t.” He shrugs. “I just hoped you would. Got used to seeing you every day after work.” 

She’d like to say something - offer him a cheeky reply, engage in the banter that would usually follow an unexpected statement, but she’s choked up on the idea that it might not be just her. As the days have passed, she’s found it more and more difficult to deny the blatant attraction she feels for this huge puppy of a man. Nat’s words still whirl around in her brain, rattling her thoughts with images of a disgruntled Steve, unavailable and out of reach. Y/N’s logic might remind her every step of the way that she will not under any circumstances bite into something bigger than she can chew, but when he does small things like this, there’s a tiny part of her brain, or lady parts, or even heart that snickers under its breath.

“Well, you don’t technically see me every day, Steve.” She tries, maybe a split second too late to not sound just a smidge disappointed.

“Those are the worst days.” He muses, seemingly unaware of what he’s said, and there, another split moment that makes her heart churn and her mouth pucker up in a grimace.

“So…” Y/N is desperate to change the subject, anything really to say so as not to dwell on his words, but her brain is scrambled, and in her defence she hasn’t had her caffeine fix yet. “Are you going to stalk me on Instagram now?”

His gaze fixes on her then, confused, and Y/N wonders if she’s finally fucked this friendship-not-really-friendship up. She’s been walking on thin ice around him for some time now, she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d just up and leave at any point, considering her filter sometimes stops working when in front of him. But he smiles easily, takes a sip of his coffee, eyes crinkled at the corner in amusement, and then - he winks. 

“Interesting choice of photos from that particular holiday in Hawaii, not gonna lie, Y/N.” 

And that is truly the moment Y/N’s brain malfunctions. She can feel her eyes bulging out of her head, she chokes on her coffee, and she starts heating up from the inside - can it really be this hot in September? Yet Steve chooses to just grin even wider at her, unrelenting. He must be enjoying it, torturing her with thoughts of him poring over her photos in a bikini that granted, might have been too small, but at least made her ass look great. 

“The views were stunning.” She manages, cheekiness laced into her tone, because goddammit, she won’t let him rattle her into silence and she will get him to say it. 

“Oh, honey, trust me.” Steve laughs, a glint in his eye that she’s starting to get familiar with. “The views weren’t the only stunning thing in those photos.”

Y/N needs a moment. Is this really happening? Is Steve really flirting with her right now? Is he really saying all of these things at...8.45 in the morning?! 

“Oh shit, I’m late for work!” 

She jumps up from her seat, fumbles around for her phone, coffee, bag and maybe her last ounce of shamelessness before Steve can even utter a confused grumble. She can feel him watching her, processing what just happened, yet it’s his hand on her wrist again that stops her in her tracks.

“Hey.” He says, forcing her to look into his blue eyes - a cold colour that burns her to her toes. “Have a good day at work, sweetheart.”

*

Y/N is currently sprawled on an armchair, a glass of wine in her hand and a dopey smile on her face. And yes, maybe the reason behind that dopey smile might be in part because of a certain blond, but it might also be because she’s been listening to Nat listing off potential venues for the wedding. A wedding that, mind you, isn’t even on the table, considering the fact that Bucky hasn’t even asked her to marry him yet. He only groaned and kissed her on the cheek, as always, when she started going off on her spiel and went to their bedroom to answer his phone. 

“You’re going to scare him off one day.” Y/N giggles.

“Listen.” Nat says, slurring maybe just a little bit. “If he wouldn’t have even thought about putting a ring on this masterpiece yet, he’s an idiot. And I wouldn’t be with him in the first place if he were an idiot.”

“I thought you said all men are idiots.”

“Touche.” She concedes.

Half an hour later, Nat has moved on from castles and restaurants to colour schemes, and Y/N has started putting together a Pinterest board. She figured that, as the already decided maid of honour, she should get a head start and make future Y/N’s job easier. Plus, they’re both maybe just a tad too drunk to not thoroughly enjoy this more than they should. 

They’ve completely forgotten about Bucky, when he trudges back into the living room, a sullen frown on his face. Y/N is the first to notice him, and she straightens up, already readying herself for the bad news that he seems about to impart. He slowly makes his way to the couch and sits down next to Nat, who rubs a hand over his knee, not paying him any mind. She keeps rattling off flower arrangement ideas, but stops when she notices Y/N staring. 

“Oh, come on! I know sunflowers in summer are not the most original idea, but they’re so pretty!” Nat pouts, still oblivious, until a look at Bucky brings about her own confused frown. “What happened, babe?”

“I’m not sure.” Bucky starts, casting an uneasy glance towards Y/N. “We can talk about it later.”

Later as in ‘when Y/N is not here’? Y/N doesn’t like that look on his face, nor his sudden wariness towards her. She feels a cold shiver through her spine, sobering her up, putting her mind into overdrive, wondering what she did wrong. Bucky can’t have a problem with her all of a sudden. They’ve become close friends as his relationship with Nat progressed, so what shifted? Is it the fact that she’s been humouring her best friend in these absurd wedding plans?

“Hey, Buck, listen, we were only just joking. Please don’t feel pressured to marry Nat. I mean, we’ve always -” Y/N launches into what she knows will become an entire tirade, before Bucky just shakes his head with a smile.

“No, it’s not that. Don’t worry. It’s not like she hasn’t been aggressively hinting at getting married for the last couple of months.”

“Hey!” Nat shouts, offended, but still just as tense as Y/N.

“It’s just - “ Bucky says, rubs an eye with a knuckle, looks back at both of them with a sigh. “I’ve just been talking with Steve.”

There’s no denying the way her heart misses a beat at the mere mention of the man. She wonders if Steve’s said anything to Bucky about their not-really-impromptu meetings, wonders if Nat is going to freak out about Y/N not telling her anything about this new, peculiar routine of theirs. She might even hope just a tiny bit he’s told his best friend that maybe, maybe he would like to take her out. 

“Oh.” Nat huffs, and again with the casting of weary glances Y/N’s way. “How is he?”

“He’s...fine, I guess. He just called to tell me he won’t make football with the guys tomorrow, because Sharon’s staying the weekend.”

This is fine, Y/N thinks. It’s fine, maybe it’s just his sister or his cousin. There’s no need to freak out.

“Sharon? Didn’t he say he doesn’t want a relationship with her and there’s no point in spending time together anymore?” Nat cries out.

“I wouldn’t call fucking ‘spending time together’.”

There’s a split second where Y/N is unsure whether she’s completely sobered up or just fallen into a drunken nightmare. Nat keeps shouting at Bucky, her face starting to match her hair colour by the second, while her boyfriend is just trying to placate her by offering potential explanations. Y/N’s just sitting in her armchair, completely silent, entirely numb to whatever is happening around her. She wonders whether she’ll sit still long enough, she’ll just morph into the furniture and not have to think about this newfound information ever again. She definitely does not want to think about Steve, or his face, or his flirting, and surely not about his terms of endearment for her - honey, sweetheart, and even that stray ‘baby’ when he was particularly tired that one day. 

“Steve has a fuck buddy?” Y/N manages to whisper, effectively cutting both her friends off. 

“Oh, honey.” Nat sighs, sitting on the floor in front of her friend. “Yeah, he does. I’m sorry we haven’t told you, but I figured since you haven’t mentioned him in a while, there was no point in discussing his idiocy with you.” 

“Since when?” 

Does she sound choked up? Can either of them notice how she wants to scream on top of her lungs so everyone can fucking hear her? Or maybe rip someone’s eyes out? Or just simply teleport to her own bed and go to sleep?

“It’s been a few months now, I think.” Bucky grunts, obviously unhappy with the situation, but Y/N could seriously not give a shit about the reason why at this point. “They’ve met at the bar a while back, and he hasn’t told us anything about her until last week.” 

“Huh.” Is all Y/N manages to say. “Okay.”

***

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