Frank slumped down in the couch, swinging his feet up. It had been a long day, with a storm that had made landfall much sooner than the forecasts had predicted, and he ended up taking longer to get home than usual. He never regretted uprooting his life and moving to take care of Mary, leaving behind his professorship, the comfort of that life, but god, sometimes he couldn’t help smiling at the direction it had taken.
“There you are.”
Looking over his shoulder, Frank smiled as he saw you saunter into the livingroom, dressed in a pair of shorts and one of his button-up shirts.
“I thought I was gonna have to send out the national guard,” you tease, sitting down on the backrest, dropping back to land next to Frank.
Frank let out a low laugh, placing one hand over his heart, “Oh, you wound me! As if anything could keep me from my two girls.”
“Yeah, well, one girl declared that if you were blown away in your truck, she wouldn’t go to school tomorrow.”
Mary. She was nine now, still as precocious as ever. She was still in school, having skipped a grade while continuing to take college courses, and would likely skip another grade next year. You had been one of her tutors, a relationship blooming from short interactions that turned into dates that turned into you moving in next week when your lease was finally up.
“I’m not sure whether she’ll be happy to see me tomorrow then.”
You make a “meh”-sound, shimmying down to lie on your side, crawling to lie in his lap. Frank hissed when you grazed his sides, the light touch tickling. It was these moments that reminded him of how good this life was. Mary and legos on the floor. Roberta telling him off when he was being an idiot. You, tickling him, curled up next to him just like this.
“I’ve got something to keep her preoccupied,” you said, pulling a folded up paper from the breast pocket of his shirt. “An equation.”
“It better be one hell of an equation.”
“Why don’t you give it a whirl, professor Adler. Solve for X.”
You hand him the little note, and Frank wants to tell you that his area of expertise is philosophy, not advanced calculus. Still, you look so sweet, and what the hell, he loves indulging you. Slowly, he unfolds the note, looking at the scrawls, and it’s as if the world has fallen eerily quiet.
Frank + me = X
Frank + me + you + X = family
“You... You’re-” he stammered, the note falling down next to him.
“Found out today. We’re getting a new little variable.”
Hey all, this is part of Amanda aka @stanclub‘s 2.5 K writing challenge! This is the first time I’ve done one of these and honestly, I can’t believe I have to split this up, it was so simple in my mind, but the details just got away from me.
Word Count: 6,992
Warnings: Swearing, lots of drinking, anxiety ridden situations, anything else please let me know ASAP
I want to say this is part one of two, but I am not sure yet...we’ll see.
Fake Dating Prompt: my friends are all coupled up and i’m the only single person so i pretended you were my partner even though you’re the barista/bookstore owner/etc. that i see all the time and now they want to meet you (for bucky)
Warning( separate from the others I guess) : I refer to Rocket briefly in this, but please assume he is human, kay (i.e. he looks and sounds like Bradley Cooper). Not judging others, but not really into that furry stuff. I just wanted to make the jokes that I make really bad.
What if it Wasn’t Fake?
“Are you kidding me right now?” Bright, frost blue eyes glanced at yours in amusement as well as confusion. “I mean, you’ve gotta be right? We’ve never interacted outside this bar as individuals, let alone what you’re proposing so there’s no way you expect me to say yes to that.”
“Come on, Buck!” You pleaded, slapping your hand against said counter as he cleaned a glass in front of you. “It’s not like I had any other options!”
“Oh, so I’m not even your first choice; Just your only one.” His eyes narrowed at you, but there was a playful glint to his eyes that you swear you (or rather the booze in you) could see. “Consider me flattered.”
You groaned, rubbing your temples with a headache that wasn’t even close to a warning of the impending hangover you were going to have in the morning. You’d been hanging out with your friends, Gamora (and goofball of a boyfriend Peter), Okoye (and her new beau M’baku), Jarvis (though he goes by Vis ever since he started dating Wanda), and Clint (and his baby mama Laura).
The pattern is already becoming evident, thus your problem. You were single in a flock of paired lovebirds. Which is what led you into the very situation that had you pleading a teasing Bucky. They were all partnered up, and even adding more couples to the friend group, while you sat alone and isolated amongst a sea of friends. And none of them helped with the numerous blind dates they wouldn’t tell you about until you were trapped. Not that you were complaining about the hookup with Peter’s friend Rocket, dude was an animal and knew what he was doing.
So, when it came time to decide who your plus one to the big art gallery opening you were all invited to in a week, you embellished on your relationship status. And by embellished, you told everyone that you were dating the hot bartender at your favorite bar, now they all want to meet him beforehand, and you were strapped. Dinner, in three days, and you hadn’t even told him that you’d said this just as long ago. Work had been hectic and you’d been cramming to get this done in time, and well, you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. At least not until it was last call and you’d had several of your go to cocktails.
This lead to the very circular conversation you were currently having about a few days of prep/ ‘research’ in order to know each other and not get caught up in things. He, though finding you amusing and adorable, was refusing, and you were getting more embarrassed the more you talked about it. It’s not like you wanted to have a fake boyfriend, you were just tired of all the couples feeling bad for you.
“Look, I’ll tell them that we broke it off because you had to do something that will make you look good, or even better, you dumped me for someone better!”
The begging had started about ten minutes ago, but it was getting more slurred as you sat there, more and more of the liquer saturating in your liver. You had figured if you ordered enough drinks and tipped him enough, he might eventually give in out of sheer annoyance. Unfortunately, he was painfully sober and not having it. So, you’ve dissolved into telling him the truth.
“And you really think none of them are going to see through it?” He shook his head, punching buttons in the register to close out someone’s tab. “Pretty sure Clint is a regular here, and Gamora comes on Karaoke nights.”
“Please, we both know you don’t work Karaoke.” You argued, not denying the holes in your plan. “And if Clint’s here, he’s here to drink, not pay attention to the various people that serve him. Well, unless it’s Nat, he’s never too busy to flirt with Nat.”
“Oh he does more than flirt,” The redhead corrected, casting a wink in your direction. “At least he did until he knocked Laura up; now he’s a total boy scout. Mention me in casual conversation; you’ll see.”
“Romanoff you are really not helping. “Bucky rolled his eyes at your banter, “That is hardly the point here, and you have four tables to clear off.”
A mock salute was tossed his way as Nat gracefully floated away. “Fine, Fine, go back to your petty excuse for a fight that we all know you’re going to cave on.”
You watched as an icy glare was sent in her direction, before the gaze turned molten towards you. There was something about the intensity of these gazes that sent chills down your spine. You didn’t know if it was because of the booze, or the fact that you suspected Natasha’s comment meant something more. You were scared by this, still awaiting a reply. A part of you wanted to worry, but something else in you made you put on a brave face. You slapped a rather large tip on the table, and raised an eyebrow in what you hoped looked like a challenge.
“So…” You dragged the word out, your small spark of courage fluttering. “Are we going to keep up this charade, or are you going to help me?”
A dark, throaty chuckle resounded from his chest. “Puppy eyes and begging didn’t work, so we’re resorting to bribery now, Doll?”
“You underestimate the desperate nature of my condition.” The statement sounded a lot less pitiful in your head, but you barrelled forward. “And judging by your coworker’s comments I have overestimated your resolve.”
Broad shoulders turned from you, long fingers gracefully cleaning the freshly washed glasses. “We’ll see (y/ln), we’ll see.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been a long process, but after you’d all but locked yourself in the bar with him while he closed, you’d finally convinced Bucky to go along with your plan. Well, most of your plan. He refused to see you outside of work until the dinner which was right before the event, meaning no prep, and no idea what to say about him for the next few days as questions abounded. Typically, it ended up with you texting him, or Nat should he refuse to answer, as quickly and discreetly as possible. As you sat at lunch with the guys today, (the girls were having a spa day that you rejected to) you could feel the worry curdle in your gut. Or maybe it was the Bailey’s from the Car Bomb you all downed.
“So, tell us more about your boy, (y/n).” Quill slurred, leaning back in his chair to the point that it tipped slightly, causing him to slump forward. “How can we believe he’ll show?”
“Like you can talk when you tried to set me up with that Trash Panda you call a friend.” You bit back. “Dude showed up an hour late and then tried to steal an old man’s prosthetic. The only reason I even did anything with him after is because he was very ripped, and very persuasive.”
“Eww, you actually did Rocket?” he gagged. “I’d hoped he was kidding when he said he’d hit it and quit it.”
“That is only half true!” Clint laughed, sticking up for you, which made you relax your fist around your glass. “I’m pretty sure (y/n) kicked him out of her apartment after she was done with him.”
“Were you listening from the roof again, you perv?” You teased, feeling yourself grow calm in the banter. “I swear you just sit at that air duct so you can have blackmail.”
“You can prove nothing, (y/ln). Nothing.” The blonde winked, tossing his sandwich wrapper into the bin three tables down with a soft swish. “And even if you could, you’ll never see me coming.”
M’baku’s deep chuckle sounded next to you as he swallowed down a bite of his veggie wrap. “I fail to see what any of this has to do with your...Bucky?” You nodded. “And how we know nothing of him. How long have you been seeing each other without any of us knowing?”
Vis nodded, the tea in front of him steaming in curls around his face.”I agree, I feel like you would have told us something sooner, (y/n). I’m honestly quite offended to have not heard of this.”
You sighed, bobbing your shoulders up and dropping them in a look of doubt. “If I’m telling the truth? I don’t even know, we’ve known each other in passing for a while, so I can’t pinpoint exactly when we crossed the line between friends and more…” You paused, trying to find a way to say this in a way that wouldn’t make it sound like you’d literally said the first guy they didn’t know that popped into your head. “Besides, I wanted to make sure this was a decent thing before bringing him into the fold, ya know? Vet him out a little bit.”
This seemed to please them, and after everyone had finished eating, it was decided they would go to the park to wait for the girls. Some frisbee was tossed, a few vendors visited. As the sun died down, you all walked for a bit, discussing work and the various things that have happened throughout the week, when you felt a light tap at your shoulder, causing you to turn, the group continuing without you. Knowing it wasn’t any of your friends, you swung your fist, thinking it was someone up to no good. (I mean, the park didn’t always have savary people, and the day was dying down) However, you were surprised when a warm hand wrapped around yours, catching the punch with ease. Taking a look up, you instantly felt regret and panic as you looked to your friends.
“Buck, what the hell?” You hissed, yanking out of his loose grip as you tried to fix the situation. “What are you doing here?”
“I was heading home, worked the delivery this morning instead of the bar tonight.” He shrugged, running his now free hand through his hair. Nodding behind you, he smirked. “So, those your friends?”
“Yeah, but I don’t like that look on-”
Your concerns were cut off as he swerved around you and towards your friends that were sitting at and around a nearby bench when they saw you weren’t with you. You could have sworn you felt the ghosting of his lips at your temple, but you were too busy panicking at whatever he was planning to really think about it. He had replaced the smirk with a smooth smile, the one you’ve seen him use for the patrons of the bar, and his walk was poised to be relaxed. You numbly followed him, managing to catch up to him in frantic steps just as he reached the boys.
“You all must be (y/n)’s friends I’ve heard so much about.” His voice oozed charm and confidence, a hand outstretched toward Clint who happened to be closest. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky or Buck.”
You barely had time to catalogue that you never knew his first name before Clint grasped his hand, raising an eyebrow at him. “I know you from somewhere, don’t I? You look super familiar, Dude.”
“Well, I’ve heard your close one of my closest staff members at the bar I own.” He replied easily raising a curious eyebrow in your direction. “Natasha over at Winter’s Draft?”
“Oh, yeah...Nat.” Clint’s grin turned wicked, though frantically made him blanch as we all looked at him. I guess she had been right, total boy scout, my little rebel. He rubbed at the back of his head, giving off a shrug that was meant to look nonchalant. “I mean, I knew her, but it’s been a while. Haven’t seen her since I started seeing Laura.”
“Right, well, she sends her regards.” He stated before quickly going through and introducing himself to each man, somehow knowing enough about them to get through introductions. You watched all of this in awe, barely even reacting to the exchanges and jokes made around you. This was not part of the plan. You were to meet him at your place, and figure out a strategy, dinner at around Seven, go to the gallery opening, and then call it a night. Getting along with your friends? Laughing and knowing things about them? Not expected or anticipated.
It wasn’t until Barton poked you in the ribs saying they were gonna head home since the girls decided to grab some drinks before getting dolled up, that you could really do anything.
“I-I’ll meet you at your car, Clint.” You muttered, blinking slowly to wake yourself up. “I just want to confirm a few things with James about tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it, Man, I can give her a ride.” Bucky insisted, wrapping a loose, but heavy arm around your shoulders. “This might take a while, we’ll just meet you at the restaurant, yeah?”
None of them, aside from Clint, who was still trying to parse how he knew Bucky and not seeing the obvious answer, seemed to pick up on any of the panic that you were trying to exude from your body. There were slight micro expressions of how easily he touched you, something that they knew people had to earn, but otherwise, nothing. Putting on a small smile, I nodded, gulping down the chokehold of anxiety in my throat.
“You know, he’s right, why keep you all away from your Ladies, right? We’ll meet you at the dining hall.”
All the men nodded, waving as they departed, leaving you alone with your bartender, who apparently was the bar’s owner. He seemed relaxed, and not as if he’d just bumped into you with your friends casually when he’d refused to even talk to you about this facade. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you took in the details of his face, a hushed growl replacing it.
“What the fuck was that?!” Your elbow moved to make contact with his ribs, but he’d spun around you and started leading you in the opposite direction with a scarily practiced finesse. You moved with him, knowing that otherwise you’d be dragged, or fall on your face and cause an even bigger scene than the one you’d imagined. “You couldn’t warn me? Text me a heads up, maybe, anything?”
You waved your hands for a more dramatic effect, but it only served to amuse him, an easy smile coming across his lips. “And miss out on how adorably thrown you are? Not a chance in Hell. Besides, figured it would be better if we hadn’t planned on this.”
At this you stopped, stumbling slightly when his arm kept moving behind you. You were quick to duck though, rebalancing yourself to look at him. Your face scrunched as you crossed your arms to hug yourself. His face gave the illusion of being an open book, but you couldn’t read anything off of him. Noticing the crinkle in your brow, he smirked, knowing he was successful.
You let out a puff of air, all anger deflating out of you at this point. “Well, it’s too late to take any of it back now, you just dug yourself deeper down the Rabbit Hole. No backing out now.” You looked where you’d retraced your steps. “Wait wha- You came this way why are we walking through it again? Were you stalking me?”
“Please.” He scoffed, his lip twitching slightly as he tried to hide that damn smirk again. “Don’t flatter yourself, (y/l/n). I happened to be walking through the park after a long day, and wanted to relax before an even longer night where I have to be in a monkey suit.”
“Geeze, such a drama queen.” You scoffed now, motioning to his attire. “You’re halfway there most of the time anyway.”
You both looked down button down shirt, rolled crisply to the elbow and gently folded back. This was actually the first time you’d ever seen him in the daylight, and you couldn’t deny that you liked what you saw. The muscles at the bar were even bigger than you imagined, but there was a softness to him that you didn’t normally see. He had his shirt tucked into dark jeans that tauntingly hugged at his legs (and his ass, if you guessed correctly), and pooled ever so slightly over his boots. Though dressy, you noticed that they also looked scuffed and worn as if he’d had them for a while, or used them in more utility fashion. His hair waved just at the top of his shoulders, giving off a volume that would make a supermodel jealous, and his stubble had been trimmed and groom very recently.
You didn’t even realize you’d been staring until he made some comment about being better than the polar opposite like you- which was true, you were hanging with the guys today, so you’d settled for a ratty old baseball tee, stained jeans, and comfortable sneakers- and huffed, trying to act as if you were looking for your friends in hopes of escaping this mad man. Hell, a part of you was doing this in earnest; he was far too wild a card to play at this kind of thing.
Maybe you could run for it, tell them it was all a ruse, and just never go to the bar you’d been going to nigh on religiously for the past three years. You bit your lip, knowing that wasn’t going to happen, and started to move in the direction you’d been walking in. Having done this, little did you know that he’d dug the rabbit hole deeper for you both, and not just himself.
You muttered a half-hearted shut up, beforehand, but otherwise you both remained quiet, in a way that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.h Unsure of what to say, or if you should say anything, you kept glancing his way, hoping he wouldn’t notice your squirrelly behavior. However, since luck had clearly designed to abandon you in this endeavor he broke the silence with roll of his eyes.
“What are you looking at? Is this something I’m going to have to deal with all night?” He rubbed a hand down his face with a groan. “Just ask whatever prep questions you wanted to ask, might as well kill the time somehow.”
the silence between you was too much, and you could use the extra time to prepare.
“So.... you own the bar, but work behind the counter?” You asked, “How did I not know that?”
“You never asked.” he stated, “And clearly neither did any of your friends. They cared more about my schooling, and where I grew up and all that junk.”
“But I’ve been going there forever and you didn’t think to mention that ‘oh hey (y/n) just while I make you this long Island I wanted to tell you that I’m the Owner and could charge you for harassment of a staff member.”
“Please, everyone over there loves you, and if you were harassing them, you’d have heard it from Nat. She doesn’t tolerate that shit, which is what makes her a great partner.”
“Also explains how she knows everything about you.” You muttered, the words coming out more bitter than you thought you meant. You didn’t know why, but there was something about the word he used that left a sour taste in your mouth. “She okay with you doing this? Running around with a customer who refused to take no for an answer? Which let me tell you, sounds pretty close to harassment.”
He chuckled, his adam’s apple bobbing with his mirth. “Not that kinda partner, or at least not anymore, strictly business between us. We’ve known each other for years. She also knew I’d give in because I was going to this thing anyway. Would have been awkward to say no and bump into you.”
“Wait-What?” You paused, grabbing his arm. “What do you mean you were going anyway? Are you working the event? Or-”
“The artist is a close friend of mine.” He paused stopping to look down at your hand. You swore you could feel the faintest of flexes under your fingers, but he continued, “I’ve known about this far longer than you have most likely.”
“You are friends with Steve Rogers?” You felt your jaw go slack. “And you never thought to mention this? What else are you hiding from me?”
“I don’t hide anything from anyone, it’s all about asking the right questions, which, again, you didn’t ask.” He corrected, pulling away from you to continue walking. “And I’m not just friends with Steve; I’m best friends. Which means it would suck if I was late. So, let’s get a move on, huh?”
You frowned, following him as a small crinkle appearing between your eyes in confusion. You didn’t say anything for a while, trying to figure out what to do with all of this information, any prep you had prepared went out the window as you glanced at your phone to see the time. It was around 5:30 which gave you a little under two hours to get ready and you still had to shower and blowdry your hair before you actually got dressed and did your hair and makeup. Wanda offered to come over and help, but you’d refused, afraid she’d go a little too heavy on the eyeliner.
“You might want this.” You jumped as Bucky passed you a helmet. “Also, don’t judge her for her age, okay? This baby’s a classic.”
You took in the vintage bike in front of you, it had been well cared for and clearly been made by it’s rider with a heavy dedication for authenticity. You felt yourself smile before forcing a stoic look on your face. It was beautiful, but you had already given Bucky the satisfaction of surprising you enough today. You weren’t new to riding, having been with Clint on many a ride before he traded it in for an actual car now that he was a future father, so you waited until he got on, wrapping your legs over the bike and placing your hands on his shoulders.
“Looks who’s all confident.” He said, taking a hand and moving yours around his chest. “But you’re gonna want to hold on somewhere a little more secure, Doll.”
You felt your face heat up at the pet name, shaking your head against his back as you held on tight. “Whatever you say, Evil Kenevil.”
He dropped you off at your apartment and darted off to get ready himself, barely telling you anything even though you were shouting all kinds of questions into his ear. Your body went into autopilot as your mind tried to go through the tangled web that was this lie. All just so you wouldn’t go on another blind date? So you could feel included? Is this what dating was now, having a thousand questions and not nearly enough answers about who you are with? It seemed so backward to you, but as you fit yourself into a classic black number, you couldn’t help but wonder if you should add a splash of color that would match his eyes. You were sure you had a few blue pieces to play around with. His eyes were always shifting from one shade to another so you’d have to make a guess, and-
Wait. What the hell were you doing?
You paused, your hand hovering over the pieces in question, not even realizing you’d moved to them with the thought. Why did it matter so much that you matched his eyes? If it was the quiet before the storm, or the blizzard of bottled emotions, you always found solace in them after a long day. You’d settle for drinking alone with some random RomCom if you knew he wasn’t working, not even bothering to go there unless you knew he’d be there with a heavy hand and light hearted banter. You knew this, but why did your friends need to see you matching him? Why was that so important?
Running a hand through your lightly curled strands, you let out a sigh that had been trapped there for weeks. It was a sigh that lifted one weight off your shoulders, but placed another on your heart. You’d been wrestling with why you would drop his name of all names to your friends, and now you knew why. It was a lie made of hope, and desire. A lie made out of a desperation for something hidden to be in view and true. You were in love with Bucky Barnes, a man who probably knew more about you than vice versa, and it took you pretending to date him to realize it.
You put on the barest strokes of make-up with shaking hands, your epiphany hitting you at the wrong time to conduct yourself properly. Looking in the mirror, though you’d hidden away all the shock and stress from the week, all you could see was this truth hidden in the lie. You grabbed a nip from your emergency stash in your clutch, barely having time to down it and throw away the shell when your doorbell rang. You closed your eyes, gave yourself a steadying breath, and opened it, left utterly breathless by the sight.
Bucky stood there, a beautiful compilation of straight lines and soft edges that blurred into each other in a wonderful contradiction. His hair had been swept back tidily, the strands tucked away from his face in a partial bun, and his tux was jet black against his skin. Like you, he’d gone classic black, and having no idea what you were wearing, donned a silver vest for the accent. It matched your bag and your jewelry so perfectly that you could swear he’d somehow seen what you were wearing. You smiled, probably brighter than you should have, and stepped out the door, the cool Brooklyn Air billowing around you softly.
“You clean up nice, Barnes.” You said, turning from him to lock up. “I take back what I said at the park today.”
He let out a shaky chuckle, was he as nervous as you suddenly were? Or were you imagining things? “You’re not looking to bad yourself, Doll.”
“Oh I do try,” You joked, carding your hands through your hair as if to fan it into his face. Deciding against it, you turned to find the street in front of you empty, he hadn’t ridden his bike here, but there wasn’t a card either. “So, are we walking over biking tonight or…?”
He smirked, this time the annoying shift in facial expression shaking you to your core. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll lead you to your carriage.”
Holding his hand out to you, you hesitantly put your hand into it, enjoying the comforting squeeze he provided. As you descended the steps, he pulled you closer, looping your hand through his arm as you rounded the corner. It took far too much free will to stop yourself from leaning into his warmth, the musk of his cologne inviting you closer. With the heels you had on, you rested at the perfect height to lean onto his shoulder, you mused, but he had stopped before you could test the theory.
Standing in front of you stood a Limo, with the girls hanging out of the moon roof to let out a bunch of “OOOOoooohs” at you or him, you couldn’t tell, clearly people had pregamed far harder than you did, something you’d be catching up on presently.
You looked from your friends, the guys visible as Vis stepped out to hold the door for the two of you, to Bucky. His expression, as always was unreadable, but there was something less confident in his stance that was absent at the park this afternoon.
“Not having second thoughts...are we, Buck?” You teased, pulling him behind you to get into the very crowded car. “You seem more surprised by this than I am.”
“More than likely because Peter texted him at the last minute.” Gamora stated, slipping down to meet us. Her hair had been pulled into a beautiful fishtail braid that covered the exposed shoulder on her one sleeved number that matched the purple of her hair beautifully. Her joyful face turned severe as she looked at her boyfriend. “Like right at his doorstep last minute.”
“Hey, I was I supposed to know he lived so close to Okoye?” Quill argured, his burgundy number complimenting her well, while also giving him a look that screamed 80’s nostalgia. I wasn’t even the one who got his address, it was Clint!”
You felt your eyes narrow as you looked to your neighbor. “And how did you get that information, might I ask?” Especially given that you didn’t even know what it was yourself.
Looking wearily to his own date, he straightened his grey suit and purple tie so that he didn’t have to meet anyone’s gaze. “I may have gotten it from a friend we have in common, aside from you, of course.”
You smirked yourself this time, making eye contact with Buck. “Nat.”
He rolled his eyes, rubbing at his scruff in thought. “Well, that’s either going to get her extra closing duties or dish detail...I’m not sure which yet, but I’m sure she’ll remember to not mess with me after.”
“Well, if everyone’s settled, I do believe we can head towards our dinner.” You shifted as Vis moved back into the seat where Wanda was waiting for him. “Shall we?”
“We Shall!” You all shouted, causing Bucky to shake his head at the group while you drove towards the restaurant that stood right next to the gallery. You were proud of being able to get reservations there so close to the opening, and had even gotten yourself seated right next to the exit, the glass room, looking over the gallery as you ate.
“So…” Laura started, reaching for her club soda. “Tell me, how did you two meet?”
“Oh well…” You rubbed at the back of your neck looking to your ‘date’ in hopes of being freed from an unplanned question. “I don’t know if it’s really a story to tell....”
“You only say that because it’s embarrassing on your end.”
He teased, launching into the story of how you two literally met, which you could only remember in the fuzziest of details on. You had been at the bar with Clint doing trivia or something, when you got bored with him flirting with Nat -a detail Bucky mercifully left out- that you’d moved to the back to hear the DJ better as well as get better drink service. You didn’t have work the next day, so you didn’t really care to think that you’d had enough, or pay attention to where you were going. That is until you were bumping into the bar, and grabbing the hand of the muscular man behind it to get a drink.
“She couldn’t even say what she wanted.” He remembered, glancing down at your reddened face with glee. “She justed wanted that drink named after a part of the state and had tea involved. And to ‘make sure it’s with the good stuff, since my friend’s paying’ I believer were her exact words.”
“Hey! If it was that late into trivia night, you can’t blame me for not being able to explain a long island iced tea!” You remembered this part of the night, but not much else. “Besides, if I remember correctly, it sparked a somewhat interesting game of twenty questions, right?”
“The one time in your life you asked the right questions, and I bet you can’t even remember the answers, can you, Doll?” Mischievous eyes glanced over your face and you felt your breathing stop slightly as he brushed a stray tendrel of hair from your face.
“You know I can honestly say that I can’t.” You muttered, turning yourself from him, suddenly very interested in your Alfredo dish. “Did I give away anything terribly embarrassing, as I’m sure you’ve memorized that night.”
This led him to detailing every answer to every question he gave, including some of the less than polite dinner conversation ones that sent your whole group into a frenzy. Everything from your worse Middle School Memory to your favorite position, and you couldn’t even remember how you had told these to a complete stranger at the time. The part that had you feeling the warmest however, wasn’t even the shame of your answers, but the confidence in which Bucky answered them all, his face taking on one of fond memory as he shared your life in a manner of twenty randomly strug queries. He didn’t make a single one up, though there were asides where others provided their answers, leaving you even more scandalized. You hadn’t even realized that the check for your food had come and gone, until you felt Bucky stand next to you.
“I do hate to break up with lovely chatter, but I have to meet the artist to save him from his own anxieties about tonight. So, if you don’t mind me stealing (y/n), we’ll meet you over there soon.”
“She failed to let us know you knew Mr. Rogers.” Wanda stated, smiling around her wine glass. “Though when it comes to you, she fails to tell us much.”
He brought your hand to his lips as he kissed it lightly before looping your arm through his, an easy smile crossing his face. “That’s because she knows I like to keep an air of mystery about me.”
You smiled, a shy smile that worked hard to cover up the blush that was threatening to appear from his easy displays of affection. “He also failed to tell me that we’d be meeting him beforehand. I should have prepared my tape recorder.”
“No reporting business here, (y/l/n) just a friend calming another as he makes his Debut.” He patt your hand lightly before leading you away. The others shooed you off with jeers and teases, which prompted Bucky’s next comment to hit you like a ton of bricks. “I’d say they’re falling for it pretty well, wouldn’t you?”
You bit your lip, the frown threatening to spill over pulling the skin between your teeth. “Yes, yes I’d say they are…”
The two of you walked quietly, him letting you go as soon as you were out of eyeshot. Part of you wished he hadn’t, but you wanted to respect his boundaries as well, it was the least you could do after the performance he’d just put on for you. Even though you were questioning each micro expression to see if he felt even slightly the same way about you. As always, you couldn’t read his face, and he had a smug air about him as if he knew and enjoyed it.
The walk to the Gallery was short, both of you let in as soon as Bucky gave his name. Most of the canvases were covered, or in the process of being uncovered, no one wanting pictures to be taken before the event. You kept your eyes Bucky’s shoulders, following him meekly until you reached the green room so to speak. There, you pressed yourself against the wall opposite him, not sure how far he wanted you to go with this. He didn’t seem to notice, and knocked on the door, lightly, and in a rhythmic beat that you could almost swear was morse code.
The door burst open and a frenzied man with sharp features and kind eyes opened the door. You knew from your research into the gallery opening that this was not Rogers, but his agent, and other best friend, Sam Wilson. Relief flooded his severe expression as he took in the sight of Bucky, giving a toothy grin that almost made you want to smile too.
“Oh thank God you’re here man, I don’t think I can say anything to make him sto-” He paused, as Bucky brushed past him. “And of course no time for pleasantries, just off doing your thing.”
He moved to close the door in front of him, but then his eyes swept towards you. His expression pinched in confusion, then furrowed in suspicion. Then he saw Bucky’s Jacket, which he had insisted on putting around your bare shoulders, and he gave a small, close lipped smile.
“You’re Barnes’ date to this thing?” You nodded trying to shrink into the identifying fabric. “Damn, I’m sorry for you then. Come on in, I’ll get you a drink while he does his magic.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I should-” You started, but stopped when Mr. Wilson suddenly appeared before you. Placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, he gave you that contagious grin you saw earlier, and you relaxed. “Is suppose it’s better than waiting for him alone in the hallway.”
“Yeah, don’t want Stark’s security guy to catch you, dude takes his job very seriously.”
“Wait, Stark’s? I thought that Stark passed on sponsoring Roger’s work? Said it was too old school for a tech mogul.”
“Well, gotta give him some credit, he brought a girl who knew what she was talking about for once.” Sam rubbed his chin in thought as he led you through the doorway. “Tony’s just big into the optics of things, he was always going to support our boy, but he wanted to generate a bit of buzz for it.”
“Only Tony Stark…” You mused, your lips twisting upward at the comparison to other girls Bucky has dated or taken to such events. “Though I suppose it makes sense for him to support the gallery when it’s from an investee of his father. Even if he isn’t open about it, the press loves to eat him alive for his Daddy Issues.”
“H-yeah they do.” Sam paused, tilting his head towards you as he called out to the two huddled figures by the bar. “Yo, Barnes, where did you find this girl, and better yet, how did you convince her to come as your date?”
“It’s a real funny story, Wilson.” Buck turned, his eyes narrowing at the joke being mad. Seeing the worry cross your face, he snapped his gaze back to Sam. “It’s on a ‘need to know’ basis, and sorry, but you didn’t make the cut.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re being paid to be here.” Sam muttered as soon as Bucky turned away. “I would hate for him to stoop that low. Even he has to have some lines.”
“Mr. Wilson, I do think I am offended by that comment.” You said, moving away from him with a frown. “I happen to be invited here under a press badge, which won’t be used until the event starts.” You added quickly, not wanting to seem like you were using Bucky to get an exclusive.
“Oh, now I see, he’s found someone who can match his wit, and use words in that stabbing way he does.” Sam gave a shrug, shaking his head. “I better not see anything from this interaction in whatever publication you work for.”
“Cross my heart.” You said, tracing your pinky in an X over your collarbone. You slipped your clutch out of Bucky’s jacket pocket and threw it towards Sam. “And have some collateral.”
“I don’t think that’s how that saying goes, but I admire your honesty.” A calm voice declared from next to you, making you jump. “Sorry miss...didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
You turned only to find yourself looking into the near perfect blue eyes of the man of the evening himself, Steve Rogers. Though he was build the same way that Bucky was, he seemed to lack the confidence his friend had, slouching slightly as if to make his presence less intimidating. He was dressed in a way that mirrored Buck’s everyday look, but with softer colors and his hair was a striking blonde that swooped in a 40’s era fashion. Everything about this man gave off a comforting aura, but you could also feel the panic that he was trying to keep at bay.
“No, it is I who should be apologizing, Mr. Rogers, I’m intruding on a time meant for you and your friends. We don’t even know each other, and yet here I am, before your event even starts and-”
You paused as Bucky put a hand on your lower back, hovering next to you. Your nerves seemed to vanish in that moment, and all you could feel was his hand. The heat was so intense you almost jumped away from the burning sensation. You could feel your face flush, with embarrassment and the redistribution of that concentrated searing sensation. It was just a moment, but it felt like it had been stretched for days. Finally, after a year of seconds, he laughed, brushing his face next to your ear.
“I think he gets the point, Doll.” He murmured, the vibration of his voice dizzying as he rubbed your back soothingly. “Just take a breath, it’s fine.”
You shifted slightly, moving only until the very second your eyes met. Was this part of the act? Was he telling Rogers to just go with the lie in case they ran into your friends? Or was he lying to his best friend on your behalf. How far was this going to stretch. So many questions filled your head, and you started to choke on the air around you.
“(y/n)?” Bucky’s voice turned worried, but sounded distant as everything around you blurred. “(Y/N)!”
His hand slipped from your back as you crumpled on the floor, overcome with what you’re lie had done to everyone around you.
@stanclub replied to your post “Behind Their Eyes | 2/2 | b.b.”
I LOVED THIS SO MUCH!!! This entire series was EVERYTHING and I'm so so so honored you wrote it for my challenege!
IM SO GLAD!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much for holding the challenge and thinking of me when tagging people for it!!!!!!!! I had so much fun writing this lil series!!!!!!
