Drabble request! #62 :)
62. If you can’t sleep…we could have sex?
this one… this one’s a bit longer… and i quite like it *smug emoji* a read more cut cause… well… it’s longish
college AU
Bucky Barnes was insufferable.
The very definition of the guy you stay away from. Everyone and their mother had warned you about guys like him. Even movies. He filled almost every cliché of every young adult book and teen movie.
You didn’t think guys like him actually existed, until you met him. And yet no amount of warning could have prepared you to meet him.
Because while he was crass, and tongue-in-cheek smug, confident almost to a fault, and most times a jerk – the typical bad boy, playboy, etcetera – he still had moments where he was kind and funny, and no one could deny the guy was charming. Which is why you wouldn’t consider the two of you friends, but still more than acquaintances.
Sure he annoyed you, with his ‘you wish you were me’ attitude and his cheeky jokes and the fact he knew he had sex appeal and used it like a weapon. But when he showed up at your window, needing a place to crash for the night, looking like he’d been through another fight at some bar, leather jacket sprinkled with droplets of the threatening storm, his hair casting a shadow over his bluer than life eyes as he gave you his signature smolder.
You rolled your eyes, suppressing a groan. God damn it why was he like this and why couldn’t you say no? He didn’t have any friends close by, he had been locked out of his place. What else was new. Pulling down on your sweater to cover your body – you didn’t miss his smirk when he noticed your shorts – and pinching him when he threatened to make noise, you unlocked the window, letting him into your bedroom. Your housemates couldn’t know he was there. Not only was it ‘against the rules’, but you’d never hear the end of it if you were discovered ushering the Bucky Barnes to your room in the middle of the night.
He toed off his boots, shrugged off his jacket and you were left to secretly peek at his toned body when he was stripped down to boxer briefs and white t-shirt, the light of the crashing thunder casting shadows around his muscles if only for a split second.
His eyebrows danced up and down when he caught you looking, and the next thing he knew you had thrown a pillow to his face.
You made him make a cot on the carpet and sleep on your uncomfortable floor. Hushed protests and promises to keep his hands to himself – “that is, if you want me to keep them to myself…” – came through one ear and out the other. You were not having Bucky Barnes on your bed.
You tossed and turned trying to find sleep but each time a clash of thunder came striking down, you would shudder. You hated thunder storms, they quite frankly scared you still. And you hated that you were showing any signs of laughable fear anywhere near Barnes.
“Can’t sleep?” his gravelly voice almost startled you, had you not already been scared by the last clap of thunder.
“Go to sleep Barnes”
“Come on, I’m just trying to make conversation”
“2 AM isn’t time to make conversation” you snuggled into your blankets, closing your eyes shut tightly, as if the stronger you squeezed your eyelids together, the faster you’d find slumber. More thunder, more rain, more tossing and turning.
“You know…” Bucky wandered off. You heard him shuffling around, and inched your head to the left to catch him looking at you, head propped up on his hand. His eyes looked sincere in the dark of the night, and for a moment you just wanted to look at him. You just wanted him to look at you. That would be enough. “If you can’t sleep… We could have sex?”
“Oh, my-” and there it was. Bucky Barnes, ladies and gentlemen. Another pillow hit his face, muffling his laughter. “You’re the absolute worst, Barnes”
“I’m not that bad, it was an honest offer, it can help you get to sleep.” There’s a wink from him and you give him your back, pushing the covers up to your ears and praying he can’t see you’re mildly blushing in the darkness of the night
“Hard pass.”
“Fine… Tea?”
“Tea?”
“I could make you tea.” You turn back around to look at him incredulously. Did he just offer to make you tea to help you sleep? “I could be quiet. In and out of your kitchen in a blink of an eye” he shrugs as if it was a no brainer, no big deal. For a moment you’re fighting off a silly smile. People should really start adding ‘Dork’ to their definitions of Bucky Barnes. Much to your dismay.
You shake your head no. He doesn’t have to make you any tea. You’d rather he doesn’t, lest he gets caught and things get out of hand. Another shrug comes from him, as if saying ‘suit yourself’ and he puts his hands behind his head.
“What’s your favorite tea?” he continues, the smile on his face is audible.
“Hmmm, that’s a hard one…”
And for the next 25 minutes you carry on a whispered conversation, about tea, coffee, classes, everything and anything in between. Whatever can come to two sleepy heads. Before you know it the morning sun is spilling through your blinds and you realize you somehow found rest in the middle of a stormy night.
Your second realization is that there’s a note by your bedside table in place of Bucky’s limbs sprawled out on your floor. There’s not a single clue he’d ever been there in the first place, except for the little folded paper. You bite back a grin as you reach for it and make out his messy handwriting.
Morning, babydoll. You look pretty when you sleep, and I mean that in the most non-creepy way possible. I hope you slept well, told you I could help you get to sleep.
Thanks for letting me crash. Blankets are in the closet, right next to your really nice bras – I swear I didn’t mean to see them, THEY found ME –
And don’t worry, I slipped out before anyone could catch or hear me.
It’ll be our little secret,
- Love, B.B.
Your cheeks were warm, too warm for your liking, and the smile on your face was too hard to keep at bay. You didn’t want to be smiling. Damn that insufferable, charming Bucky Barnes.
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