The party moved on to Bucky's penthouse. How Nat convinced Bucky to even let the afterparty here in the first place, you didn't know. Almost most of the guests you had back in the studio were gone. The party was more intimate now, just your close friends you've made over the past few months, and some of the models hired for the recent shoot for Sam's business.
Bucky, the whole ride in his limo getting here, merely kept his gaze on you. His blue eyes, tantalizing among the city lights that blue past the window. You sat across from him, cross-legged, trying to avoid his eyes. But you feel it burning red, color the opposite of his eyes. And you could say the same about your core, where he let you come undone thrice.
Down there remained euphoria; spreading throughout your body, right into your veins. You could feel it the follicles of your hair tingling. You blinked the warmth away. Your body was cold as the night as you stepped out onto the pavement and into Bucky's penthouse. The sensation felt peculiar. You frowned. But Bucky pressing his lips onto your temple and squeezing your hand three times made the strange mundane. Comfort.
You stared at Bucky's hands clasped in yours as you walked inside the White Wolf. He held your hand so tight that you could nearly feel his pulse. You began to wonder what he feels when he's with you. Was it the same way you felt with him? Do stones jump on their own into the shore? Does the devil sing, shake the ground to its core? Do words vomit on its own? Is there a light at the end of a tunnel? Does the skies look auspicious at the top of the rollercoaster?
He looked down on you, the lively smile on his face fading. "Hey, doll. What's wrong?"
You blinked your thoughts away. "I'm fine. I'm just tired." Everybody knows 'I'm fine' is a code for not fine but right now, you didn't know what you were feeling. Why were you feeling this way?
"Are you sure?"
You gripped his hand tighter, almost afraid to let go. "As long as I'm with you, yes." That you meant.
The guests flooded in Bucky's living room. Nat lead Wanda the way, talking about Bucky's penthouse like it was hers. Nick breathing out a "holy shit" from behind me as he admired the place, while Sam laughed beside him. He put his arm around Nick's shoulders, leading him into the living room as if it were his own. Sharon followed suit behind his boss, her fingers typing a long e-mail on her phone (which you're guessing is a draft e-mail scheduled to send tomorrow). She gave you a tight-lipped smile, passing you and Bucky by the elevator. She wasn't supposed to attend the after-party but Sam insisted she be less uptight and live a little, but with her head drowned in her phone, Sharon will still be the uptight Sharon by the end of the night — unless Sam fully convinces her.
Peter and MJ arrived from the second elevator, whispering something to each other. The au pair immediately went to the table where the snacks were. "Look at those two." You whispered to Bucky. "Do you think Parker's for real?"
Bucky frowned, tilting his head. "What does that mean?"
"Y'know, do you think he's really into her?"
"All I know is he wouldn't be here with her just to spite you, doll, if that's what you're worried about." He answered. "I mean, yeah, the guy's been in love with you since you guys were freshmen but I think he's really trying to move on. We're good, sweetheart. He's in a good place now and so are we."
You looked up at him, giving him a warm smile. Relieved at how reassuring he was. But there was still a weight on your chest you couldn't quite figure out.
Some of the models buzzed, swarming the living room like bees, off into their own world. Two of them were athletes, two were full-time underrated models, and three of them weren't even models at all but had potential to be one when you interviewed them. And you were proven right.
You breathed in the familiar scent of Bucky's penthouse; but the smell of chips, Marco's delicious pizza and signature sauce, and every kind of junk food there ever is carried all the lavender-vanilla scent away. Seeing Bucky's penthouse filled with people was a different sight to see.
Leonard was standing by the island, scooping some sauce inside a bowl, then placing it beside several bowls of chips. His eyebrows molded into one. You gave him a small wave when he looked at you beyond his glasses, which were fixated near the tip of his nose. He gave you a warm smile, his brows relaxing.
You broke your gaze, feeling Bucky's hand snake around your waist, slipping something into your skirt pocket.
"It's a bit chilly tonight. I don't want you to get too cold." He mumbled in your ear before kissing your temple. His voice crisp and clean.
You raised an eyebrow, narrowing your eyes at him. "You're realizing this just now?"
A teasing smile etched on his lips. He shrugged, letting you go to the bathroom. "No, thanks. I'm slipping on some new ones."
"You have 'em here?"
"I actually hid a bunch of lingerie in your room about a week ago."
He chuckled darkly, shaking his head at the floor. "Will I get to see it tonight?"
"Be a good boy and find out." You winked at him before going to Bucky's room and changing your undergarments. You got out of the heels, your feet almost tired, and grabbed a pair of flats you stowed away together with the lingeries.
You got out of the room with loud r&b music blasting from Bucky's large set of speakers. Your feet felt much more comfortable now. Nat was behind Bucky's mini bar counter, clearly getting the drinks all wrong. Peter, Sam and Bucky sat on the black high stools and watched as she clumsily opened the jar of olives, spilling some. Weird looks crossed their faces.
Your hand glided roughly on the stair's railing, almost cutting through your skin.
"Let me handle this." You told Nat, tying your hair up with a tie while approaching her. You stood behind the mini bar and stole the bottles away from her. She exhaled, throwing a towel over her shoulder.
"I forgot to hire us a bartender, I'm sorry."
"Well, that's what I'm here for." You laughed.
"But it's your afterparty."
"So, I'm gonna do whatever I want to do. Plus, among all of us, I'm the only one who knows how to make good drinks."
Bucky coughed in response. "Um, I make good drinks."
"Not as good as I do."
"Sure — "
"Okay, boys." You cut off Bucky and turned to Sam and Peter who were sitting on the stools. Bucky already had stashed his suit away, leaving him with his long-sleeved shirt. You flipped the bottle with your hand, merely on instinct after a few good years of bartending. "What are we having tonight?"
"Finally." Sam breathed out. "Natasha was messing everything up. Couldn't even make a simple gin and tonic."
Nat glared at him. "Hey, I tried."
"Not enough. It's literally just gin and tonic."
Nat, set to leave, threw a little olive in Sam's face. "If it's that easy, make your own then, Samantha." She walked away, satisfied he hit Sam on his eye.
"I don't like that catching up." He said, throwing away the olive somewhere on the floor. "And you don't put olives on a gin and tonic!"
"Not my problem!"
"Get used to it, Samantha." You smirked, wiping the glasses with a clean cloth, like how you used to do in Steve's bar. "So, what am I making for you this fine evening?"
"Wait, hold on." Bucky laid a hand on the counter, the rings on his fingers making a hollowed sound. "I believe we haven't even settled on who makes better drinks."
"Oh honey, that's easy." You replied. "The one who actually had a bartending job — me."
He chuckled bitterly. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I spent years partying, and learning how to make good drinks with Steve. I made you a delicious, fruity, minty drink that I named after you the first time we met and you loved it. I am better." That was the first time he'd ever mentioned Steve ever since that day but didn't realize it. He was in a competitive mood and boy, so were you.
"I also learned from Steve."
"He didn't teach you well enough, darling."
You scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest. "Okay then. How about we settle this for good? We'll make drinks for these two idiots and let them decide who's better."
"Please don't." Sam mumbled under his breath, his eyes going back and forth between you and Bucky whilst Peter had a confused look on his face.
Bucky clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "You're digging your own grave, sweetheart."
"No, I'm digging a grave with your name on it."
"I swear to god, you two are the most competitive people I have ever known." Sam groaned, hanging his head back. "Just last week, you called me at one in the goddamn morning just to ask me who would win if you both ran for President!"
"Oh yeah..." You trailed off. "Ugh, I'd make a damn good President. The best President this country's ever had."
"No, you won't."
"Are you saying women can't make it in the office?"
"Hey, don't put words in my mouth."
Sam sighed. "I'm not doing this dance again. Just. Make. Our. Drinks. God knows we need one right now. And didn't you settle this one already? Bucky will be the President of the United States and y/n will be the Queen of England."
Bucky frowned, arms across his chest, side-eyeing you. "Now, I want to be King of England."
You turned to face Bucky, one hand rested on the counter. "Too late."
And in response, he did the same thing. "There's this thing called democracy."
"In England, there isn't."
"Well, you're in America!"
"Oh, that's right. A place where basically democracy doesn't mean crap these days."
"Oh god." You heard Peter mutter under his breath. "It's like they're the same person."
"Hey, Olsen twins!" Sam snapped his fingers in front of you. "How about I get to be President so I can demand your asses to make our drinks right this instant?"
"Fine."
"Fine."
"So, what are you guys having?" You asked the two but your eyes narrowed at Bucky who was wiping the counter clean.
"Gin and tonic." Sam answered, pointing his finger towards you and Bucky. "And make it good."
"But that's an easy drink." You groaned.
"I want my goddamn gin and tonic."
"Ugh, fine. And you, Parker?"
"Do you have beer?"
"I'm afraid Bucky doesn't have beer. Sorry, Parker."
"Aw, man. You used to have everything back then. All kinds of beers." Peter mumbled to Bucky with a gloom look on his face.
"Not the man I used to be, Peter." Bucky sent you a wink, making you blush. But you pulled yourself out of it. He may have won in this little game he had been playing since the opening but not this time.
"And besides, I thought you were done with drinking." You said while finding the shakers and other drinks in the mini bar's cabinets. Once you found them, you set them all up on the table.
"What kind of a bum would I be if I didn't drink at an afterparty?"
"A sad bum. So, what would you like then? And it should be a drink we can make."
He shrugged, his eyes scanning the drinks lined up on the counter. "Whatever you got there. Surprise me."
The r&b music reverberated against the walls, making models scream the lyrics as the danced around the living room, stuffing their faces with chips, and pizza. You, on the other hand slid the bucket of ice towards me and prepared Sam's drink. Bucky did the same. You mirrored each other's actions as Sam and Peter watched from their seats.
Both of you placed the ice on the glass, while you poured on the Plymouth to give the drink a bit more aroma, Bucky poured a London dry gin, a straightforward taste like he was. Next was the lime juice and a slice of lime on top. The drink sizzled from the bottom. A perfect gin and tonic.
Next was Peter's. You decided to have a little fun and made him a Grasshopper cocktail — a drink he'd never had before since, well, he only drinks cheap beer. The three watched with intent as you combined the green crème de menthe, a sweet mint-flavored liqueur, crème de cacao which gives the drink a chocolatey taste, cream and ice in the shaker. You put the lid on top of the shaker and shook it with vigor until everything inside was mixed into a smooth texture that will make pouring it into the cocktail glass a bit easier.
"Forget Olsen Twins." You heard Peter say to Sam. "They look like the twins from The Shining, but scarier."
You couldn't be bothered to look at what Bucky was making him but the sound of the shaker, loud as mine, was throwing you off. Was he making the same drink that son of a bitch? You repressed a frustrated sigh and focused your mind back on the drink you were making.
After you finished everything off, you carefully served the drinks on the counter with a proud smile etched across your lips, seeing as you were done first while Bucky was still shaking his damn shaker. "A gin and tonic for Samantha. And a Grasshopper for Parker."
Peter stared at the green drink in front of him. "A Grasshopper?"
"Yeah." You replied, leaning on the table with your hands. "You wanted me to surprise you so... There's your surprise."
"You and Bucky in a relationship — that's a surprise." Peter sighed. "This is just teasing me."
"Drink up, buttercup." He gave you a blank look. "Get it? 'Cause Buttercup is green and your drink is green."
"Wow, I did not know that at all. What a very informative statement. Thank you." Still a blank look.
You gave him a wide smile. "You are so very welcome."
Before Peter was even able to take a sip, Bucky pushed his drinks on the counter, a glass on gin and tonic and a Daiquiri. "Wait, wait, wait, here's mine."
Sam looked please at the two glasses of gin and tonic in front of him while you couldn't say the same for Peter. "You made me girl drinks."
You arched an eyebrow at him. "Clothes are now unisex. Toilets are gender neutral so drinks can be too. We're more progressive now. Drink your gender neutral drinks, Parker. Don't be a boomer."
"We're from the same generation! And stop rhyming. Oh what the hell. Fine, I'll drink your stupid drinks but I'm not gonna like it."
"I only make good drinks."
"I make better ones." Bucky retorted, head held high.
"Let's see about that." He took a small sip, the idiot, and was fighting back a small smile. "It's fine."
You and Bucky watched the two, Sam finishing his drinks in a gulp and Peter, slowly letting himself show more that he liked both drinks but you still didn't know who won until after about twenty minutes, Peter was now on his fourth Grasshopper and you were declared the winner.
Before Bucky retired to kitchen with Sam, he whispered on your ear: "This isn't over, sweetheart."
"You are such a sore loser."
"While you are just sore."
You bit your lip, suppressing a guttural sound. But there it was again, cold and warm at the same time. A heavy weight of thrill.
Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you looked around the place instead. The models had their drinks in hand, almost half-empty. Bucky and Sam moved their chat on the kitchen counter with Leonard, dipping chips on dips every second. There was a bottle of opened vodka in Bucky's hands and two shot glasses on the counter. Nick was talking to some of the athletes, perhaps asking questions about health or whatnot. Wanda and MJ were sat on the couch, talking like good old friends. And Nat was taking care of everything.
The scene felt a little bit too familiar to me.
"I feel like I'm back in Steve's bar." Nat sighed beside you, wiping the counter table. You laughed, placing blame on her.
"You set this all up."
"And now it's biting me back in my ass." She groaned. "And it stings bad. Hey, big guy, get off the table!"
"This isn't your penthouse, y'know."
"Yes, but your big man boss boyfriend, the owner of this penthouse and this hotel, isn't doing anything."
"It's a party. Relax, will you?
"Oh wow, how the tables have truly turned. Hey, I said get off!" She went back to scolding the other models who were a bit too wild that you expected them to be. Ironically, Bucky was just watching everything unfold in front of his eyes in his own penthouse, an amused smile on his face.
Nat came back once more, an exhausted look on her face. "I need a drink. Hey, Peter Parker, who's the girlfriend?"
He blinked twice at Nat, and another one, as if making sure she was indeed talking to him. "N-not my girlfriend. She's a girl, a friend, but not my girlfriend."
You cleared your throat, placing some glasses on the sink. "She's a robot."
"Ah." Nat nodded her head at Peter. "The robot uprising truly is near."
While the two conversed, you poured Nat a glass of whiskey on the rocks which she took in one gulp as she retired to the living room. "That woman scares me." Peter mumbled, his lips enclosing the rim on his fourth Grasshopper, sipping on it like a little kid. "God, I love this drink. It's like a drinking out of a Willy Wonka liquor factory. You're the Willy Wonka of liquors!"
"Okay, I'm cutting you off." You said, grabbing the cocktail grass back. "You're getting a little bit too tipsy."
"You're right." He sighed, pushing away the drink, blinking a couple more times. "Four more and I'd be trying-to-kiss-you drunk."
"Four more and I'd be about-to-kick-your-ass-in-front-of-my-boyfriend y/n."
"Sorry, too soon to joke about it?"
You chuckled. "Too soon. It's just been a couple of weeks."
"Sorry." He laughed, rubbing his face against his palms, like washing some dirt away from his face. He placed them back on his lap, his eyes trained on you. "Can I say something though?"
You pursed your lips. "You always have something to say so how is this any different? So yeah, sure. Lay it on me."
"Man, I sometimes forget how much you can babble."
"Just spit it out, Parker."
"When you told me you were happy, I didn't know you were this happy."
You frowned, tilting your head. "What do you mean?"
"It's just..." A deep breath. "Watching you two together, I admit, you're an odd pair but at the same time you fit each other like this." He made a gesture with his hands, fingers fitting in between fingers, a gesture not a sight to see.
You reached out and ripped his hands apart. "Yeah, don't do that."
"Oh, sorry." He chuckled. "Wait, what was I saying? Right, you and Bucky. You... God, y/n, you should've seen your face while you and Bucky were bantering and making drinks. You're like this married old couple in your very own sitcom. And your face was just glowing, there's like a light, or, fire in your eyes. I've never seen you like that. Not even with your serious ex-boyfriend... What was that jerk's name again?"
"Harry."
"Right, Harry. He was like, move-in-with-you type of serious. But you've never been this happy, not even with him. I like seeing you and Bucky happy."
The corners of your lips turned upwards at his statement. "Thanks, Parker. I am happy..."
"Good, that's good but..."
"But what?"
"You're making that face when you want to continue a sentence but you can't. Soooo... what's the but?"
"You're talking nonsense."
"Come on, talk to me."
You took a deep breath, knowing you'd eventually give in. "I-I just... He makes me feel all different kinds of things. He makes me feel excited every damn minute of everyday. He's spontaneous. He always knows how to sweep me off my feet — literally and figuratively."
"Okay, I don't need to know all the details."
"He's already traveled the whole world, he's seen everything there is to see. Meanwhile, I stick to a routine, and I'm still in New York. I haven't got on a plane since Florida, or was it California? Gosh, I don't even remember — my point is, I don't know what I bring to this relationship. I'm not spontaneous like he is, or exciting like he is. And I feel like I'm having a panic attack. Is this what this feels like? Is it getting hot in here? I feel like it is. I need to take my clothes off. Oh god, I'm having a panic attack am I? Parker!"
"I'm going to need you to calm down, y/n. Come on, let's go out in the balcony."
"Okay, okay. Cool, cool, cool, cool. I need air. I feel like I'm suffocating. I also need a drink. Fix me one, please?"
"What do you want?"
"I don't know. Anything. Pour me the first drink you see."
He stood up from the stool and fixed you a drink while you made your way towards the balcony, just a few steps from the mini bar. The glass doors glided shut behind you, with Peter handing you a drink. No music or any kind of noise managed to escape. It was just you and Peter, with the moon looking down on us. A bright glimmer.
You grabbed the drink from his hands, taking a sip. Your throat burned with a sharp foreign flavor. "Oh my god, what the hell is this?"
"Neat scotch."
"This is what scotch tastes like?"
"Get used to it."
My other hand felt for the metal hand rail in front of you, gripped hard, the blood drained on your palms. Your throat burned some more after taking a few more sips but you closed your eyes shut, tolerating the taste of it.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
"I feel like I want to run." You replied, placing the drink on a table nearby.
"Haven't you noticed you always have the urge to run away?"
Your brows met each other. You whipped your head towards him. "What on earth are you babbling about?"
"When you were thirteen, you almost ran away when your parents caught you making out with another girl. When you were sixteen, you almost ran away when they wanted you to go to Harvard for college. When you were eighteen, you badly wanted to run away when Harry cheated on you with your sister. And when you were twenty-two, you finally had the courage to actually run away from your home, away from your family. Why are you always in the run?"
"B-because, I don't know how to confront people." You groaned. "I don't know how to talk to people about my problems but when I do, I do something remotely stupid. Months ago, I was feeling so bad about myself and my career, or the lack thereof. I was feeling so sorry for myself that I drank at Steve's bar all alone at night and Bucky came to pick me up and then we went to Wanda's studio and I just... my walls just came crashing down. I cried and let it all out. That was such a foreign feeling."
"Well, it's because you've always just handled things by yourself. You've never really needed people. It's just always been you."
You faced him, your eyes already red. "Have I... Have you ever felt like I needed you?"
"You want me to be honest?"
"Please."
"No. Not really. I think once, when you needed a place to stay when you ran away but yeah, no. Not really."
You frowned, focusing your gaze back on the city lights ahead. "Oh."
"Come on, you're always there when I need you. You always take care of me when I'm too drunk to function, you always kill the spider in the bathroom, you always remind me when to pay for the rent, and you're the one who always goes out to buy groceries. You're like a mom."
"Ew, and you still kissed me?"
"Shut up."
You chortled. "I'm kidding."
"C'mon y/n, where is all this coming from?"
"I... I don't know." You sighed, letting your head hang loose between your shoulders, some strands on my hair falling on your face, sticking to the beads of sweat you now have noticed. "I guess, ironically as much as I like running away from things, I'm scared of being abandoned."
"Bucky's not going to leave you." He said, his figure moving closer to the hand rail. "I'm the only person who knows you two the best and honestly, it's like you're both just looking in a mirror. You like running away from things but this is a good thing, y/n. You're happy. What are you really scared of?"
"That's the thing. It is sooo good. God, so freaking good that-that maybe I'm gonna do something to screw it all up and that's when he's going to leave. Or, y'know what if I'm not exciting enough for him? What if one day he's going to realize that and leave me? I mean look at him." You said, turning around. He was standing on a table, pouring vodka down Sam's throat. You turned to face Peter once more. "Okay, not the good example right now but... just... Oh for fuck's sakes. I'm not scared of committing, Parker. I'm all in. I have clothes in his place, I have shoes in his place. I've already told him that I loved him that son of a bitch."
"Oh, I get it!" He exclaimed like Eureka!
"Great, you want a medal for that?"
He ignored your remark. "You're scared of how much you love him."
"Huh." was all you could say. You have never thought of it like that, but how could you even measure something intangible? Something merely felt. Do you just wait for your body to explode when it's all filled up with that feeling?
The air around you grew colder. The sounds from the streets below fainter. The weight you have been feeling, was that what it was? Something that could explode any day now? The distance between you and Peter almost slim.
"You're scared of how that makes you feel and act." He continued, the cloth of his suit brushing against your bare arms. "It's, um, it's how I felt with you."
"Oh." You frowned, biting your lip. "Peter, I'm sorry. I shouldn't even talking to you about this — "
"Are you kidding me? Of course you can. I mean, do I love hearing about you and Bucky? No but come on... It's you, y/n. You're my best friend. I'll always support you, that's why I came here today. God knows how much you deserve all this... All the love and happiness. But Bucky should be the person you need to talk to about this whole thing y'know. It's time for you to face those fears."
"Yeah, you're right."
"And if it's any consolation, I've never seen that man work so hard to get a woman to stay in his life. Come on, the first time you two met, you drove a woman away for him in this very penthouse. He never did the same to you, and he never will. You set him straight. I mean, yeah, he could still be a bit childish and clumsy but... Hey, you get me, right?"
You nodded, giving him a smile. "Yes, I do."
"Ah, that's exactly what you're gonna say on your wedding day. Sorry, too soon?"
"Waaaay too soon, dude. Plus, I'm pretty sure you'll get married before I do."
"No, I won't."
"You've been planning your wedding day since day one. Every time you're sad, you watch The Notebook. You're a hopeless romantic, Parker." You chuckled. "But most times, hopeless and romantic."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You know me too well." You truly did. "Just go talk to him, alright?"
"I will. Thanks, Parker."
Silence.
"So... what do you think of MJ?"
You hummed. "The most introverted person I know."
"No, she's not."
You turned your head and watched MJ. "She's looking at the paintings on the walls like she's in a damn museum, Parker — " A gasp. "Uh-oh."
"What? What's wrong?"
"Nick's approaching her. Save her!"
"Oh god, on it."
"Wait, Parker!" You called out, making him stop in his tracks. "Thanks for the talk."
"What are sidekicks for, am I right?"
-
You and Bucky spent most of the night behind the mini bar counter, making drinks for everyone left and right. His sleeves all rolled up while your hair tied all the way up, not allowing one strand of hair to fall in front of your eyes. The scene in front of you was now a full bar fest. Sam kept yelling "more, more, more, more" as Nick's head was hung between his back, a long trail of vodka being poured into his mouth by Bucky. Nat was busy being a mom to Wanda who was in the most drunken state you've ever seen her. The two athletes kept flirting with the two. Nick flirted with almost all the girl models. Peter and MJ spending an annoying amount of time on the stairs, talking and watching everything from where they were sitting.
Exhausted as you were, seeing Bucky's wild party side made that all go away.
"Okay, last call!" Bucky screamed at the top of his lungs for everyone to hear over the music. "Last call!"
"Aw, you're no fun." You pouted, stowing away the already-washed glasses.
"I already have ten empty vodka bottles — " Sam approached, another empty vodka bottle on his hand. He placed it on top of the counter, smiling at you and Bucky. "Eleven empty vodka bottles. I don't want to lose five more. Come on, everyone! Last call!"
Everyone ordered the same drinks they've been drinking all night except Nat who was by Wanda's side every minute of the night.
"Wanda is wasted." Nat groaned, banging her head against the counter as you handed someone the very last drink of the night.
You chuckled, your eyes landing on Wanda who pressed her face on the glass door. "I can tell."
"Has she ever been this wasted?"
"If you count the time she downed five big cups of coffee that one time in college, no. But if not, then yeah. Hey, would you do me a big favor? Can you take her home? Or at least let her sleep in your place?"
She lifted her head from the counter. "I need a raise."
"It hasn't even been a month!"
"Fine, I'll take her home. Ugh, I can't believe I haven't drank a damn thing all night."
Bucky stayed in the penthouse while you lead everyone out of the hotel, calling Uber for everyone except Sam who had his own car. "Hey, can you take Nick home?"
"Alright," Sam replied, "where does this bozo live?"
"Here, I'll write the address." You took out a pen and wrote Nick's address on Sam's palm. "Geez, you're sweaty."
"Just tell me where."
Once you told Sam where he lived, you got Nick on the backseat of his car. "Are you kidnapping me?" He asked, eyes half-open.
"No, Nick. Samantha's taking you home."
"Who's Samantha?"
"Your new girlfriend." You replied, patting Sam's back. "Take care of your new boyfriend, will ya?"
"You are such a delight." Sam said in a sarcastic tone. "Oh, before I forget. Here." A white card slide out of his pockets, right in between this middle and pointer finger. You took it from him and read the card.
"Fallon Carrington?"
"She's a very successful businesswoman and a good friend of mine."
"The Fallon Carrington of Fallon Unlimited? The one in Atlanta?"
"Yes, and yes. I think she's looking for a photographer so perhaps you can call her and pitch to her some of your ideas when she's here in New York."
You nodded, slipping the card in my skirt pocket. "Well, let's see."
"Oh, just one thing. Um... Bucky and her used to... But it was nothing serious. Just a fling."
Your eyes widened. "Oh. Uh yeah, that's fine."
"You don't have to worry though, she's a married woman now."
You nodded, pursing your lips. "Good to know. Uh, yeah anyway. You better get going now."
"Right, right. It's almost three in the morning. It's been really nice working with you, y/n. I hope we can work again sometime soon."
"Thank you for putting your trust in me, Sam."
With that, he sped away, his car looking much more smaller down the road.
-
Bucky's penthouse reeked of the remnants of the party. The stale stench of liquor and pizza lingered in the air. Shot glasses scattered across tables and floors. The living room was quiet now, there wasn't a faint sound of any noise other than the wind whispering through the upstairs.
You followed the ghostly wind upstairs, leading you to the very top of Bucky's penthouse. There, in the cold, Bucky had his feet dipped into his swimming pool. You embraced yourself, the wind growing much much colder now.
"Hey, stranger." You greeted as you sat beside him. "Need some company?"
"You are truly beautiful, miss but I have a girlfriend. If I were you, I'd leave now. She's a pretty feisty woman."
You played along with his game. "I bet I'm feistier."
"Ha! You wish."
The cold air settled in the pool waters, your feet feeling a bit numb as you dipped them. You swayed them back and forth. You laughed, intertwining your fingers with Bucky's. His thumb gestured circles on your skin, making it somehow warmer. "It was quite a party."
"Indeed it was."
"We made quite the team making those drinks." You placed your head on the nook of his neck. He placed a small kiss on top of your head.
"We did, didn't we?"
You closed your eyes, subconsciously moving your feet back and forth in the pool waters, making huge waves that reach the end of the pool. "James?"
"Uh-oh. What's wrong?" His head was no longer on top of yours. Instead, he placed his finger on your chin, making you tilt your head up towards him. "Did I do something wrong?"
"God, no." You shook your head at him. "You do everything perfectly."
"Then what's wrong, sweetheart?"
"Have you ever felt like I needed you?"
A moment of hesitation. His eyes glanced down at your intertwined fingers. "No."
Your face fell, blinking away tears that badly wanted to escape. "Oh. Okay."
"Hey," he chuckled, voice raspy, "that's not necessarily a bad thing."
You straightened your back, taking a deep breath. The words refreshing everything inside you. "Really?"
"Really. It means you're independent. I mean come on, whenever I give you stuff, you never accept it freely. You make big and long speeches — such looong speeches."
"They should crown me Queen for it."
"Exactly what I thought! And you hate being at the receiving end of it because you like taking care of people. On my part, I like that I give you the things you need even when you don't tell me you need them. It's me taking care of you, sweetheart. But I also know at the same time, you're your own man and that is hot. I know that it's nice to be needed but it's much nicer to know that you can handle yourself when I'm not around. You just have to remember that you can't always handle things on your own. I know you've practically taken care of yourself since no one really had to do it for you back in college and also after graduating college. It's about time you let people take care of you."
He brought his hand on the nape of your neck, gently caressing it, while his voice calmed and warmed the air around you. "Can I ask another question?"
"Do you have a list of questions in your hand somewhere?"
You chuckled. "No but this is the last one, I swear."
"You swear?"
"What, you want me to pinky swear?" He gave you a blank look. "I'm kidding. Okay, here goes my question... Do I... Do you, well, do you find me exciting?"
"Where is all this coming from?"
"Please, just answer."
His thumbs stopped rubbing circles on your neck. The blueness of the pool water reflected on his eyes as he spoke: "You... you bring me a sense of calmness. And to me that is exciting. Like waiting and finally seeing that little sliver of radiance after sunset. That's the excitement I feel whenever I see you, and whenever I'm around you."
"Really? There's not one tiny bit of a heart-attack-like excitement?"
He blinked twice, holding out a breath. "I just declared my feelings for you, in a very poetic way, I might as well add, while I'm a bit tipsy at three in the morning and that is what you tell me? Sweetheart, are you scared you're not exciting enough for me?"
You avoided his eyes, fixing your gaze somewhere on the pool, or the deck, or the buildings behind him. Anywhere but his eyes. "Maybe."
"You're insane."
"No, I'm not!" You finally looked at him. "Bucky, all the stories I've heard about you, all those adventures, they were exciting to me. And whenever I'm around you I always feel giddy because you're a very spontaneous man. While I, on the other hand, am not!"
"I like a woman who knows how to make damn plans because I can't. We fill each other's gaps. Can't you see? We balance each other out. We're a team, doll. I've never been on a team before."
"Well, neither have I!"
"And isn't that exciting?"
You took a deep breath and stared at his blue eyes. You felt safe. You felt like home. "Very much so. Hey, Bucky?"
"Yes, doll?"
You neared your head towards his and pushed your lips on his. "I love you so much I feel like I'm about to explode. Like how the universe was created." You whispered.
He chuckled in the kiss, his lips vibrating against yours. "That's weird and I love you for it."
The small hours of the morning have never looked brighter than today. It was as if another hot and dense singularity expanded and exploded, causing the birth of the multitude of stars above.
And like love, you can never really measure how many stars, or asteroids, or comets there are. But you know they're somewhere up there — things that are, and always be bigger than us.
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