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sebstanseabass · 3 years

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Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 10

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support and feedback! I'm so glad you're enjoying this fanfic <333 Feel free to like, reblog and comment. Would love to hear more of your thoughts! Love u guys <3

CHAPTER TEN

Just like last time he was here, Bucky grabbed some cereal box, poured the contents on a bowl followed by a tall glass of milk dumped over, making a mess on the kitchen island like a ten-year-old kid. You just finished changing into some new clothes when he finished pouring the milk in the bowl.

You followed into the kitchen, pouring yourself a hot cup of coffee from Peter's new coffee maker he got just two weeks ago and cleaned the mess that Bucky had left.

"How is it," you started just as he was about to walk out, "that you can flawlessly make a drink without making a huge mess but not with a cereal?"

He plopped down on the couch and placed his feet on the coffee table and turned on the television. He shrugged in response, eating a mouthful. "I was just trying to impress you. You're Peter's best friend. I want you to like me."

You just hummed and sat down on the love seat as soon as you finished, lifting your knee to your chest and letting the warm liquid slide at the back of your throat, letting the caffeine sit in me. You gave him no response as you didn't know what else to tell him. You just gazed at him, watching him like a hawk, as he continued to take a mouthful.

But you weren't staring at him like you did before. You were, somehow, trying to read his mind because the person sitting right now on your couch felt and looked so much different from the person who kept giving you lingering stares at the bar. One moment he was complimenting your photos, and the next your face. It felt like there were two of him and you didn't know which one attracted you more.

No one had ever looked at your photos the way he did. No one had ever talked about your photos the way he did. And no one had ever succeeded in getting a sudden yet fleeting internal reaction from you by calling you "doll."

"It's rude to stare, doll."

Except Bucky.

You apologized, and averted your gaze from him towards the television screen which showed the news channel. You took a huge sip of your coffee and ignored the searing pain of the hot liquid on the roof of your mouth. That's gonna leave a mark.

You hibernated inside your room for the next few hours, watching some sitcom on your laptop. You would hear Bucky yelling at the television screen from time to time or into his phone. Some names unfamiliar to you were mentioned. You hated the feeling of isolating yourself from the world but here you were, cocooning because you didn't know how else to be around Bucky after what happened that one night.

Plus, it felt like you were a child stuck with your babysitter.

He would knock on your door, check up on you, ask you if you needed some snacks, or if you wanted to do anything else besides locking yourself up in your room. The last time he called out for you, he was asking you to lunch, to the little Italian place across the building. Starving, you agreed to come with him only if he paid.

He just shook his head with a smile on his face. "I feel like you're taking advantage of me."

"I am." You said, locking the apartment door behind. "It's not like everyday I'm out with a rich guy."

"You gotta stop calling me that. I'm not rich rich."

"Compared to me, Buck," you said, "you are. Come on, let's go, I'm starving."

Just as you anticipated, Marco was beaming at you two once you entered his place, clearing a way for you, parting the customers like Moses did with the Red Sea. He pulled out two chairs for you and Bucky. Marco, as you assumed, was more than happy to see Bucky and more of his money. Bucky shook hands with Marco, thanking him.

Once you ordered, you turned towards Bucky who was busy looking at the photos of the gorgeous places in Italy on the walls. There was a bridge of silence between you as you continued to stare at him, still trying to read him. He may be an open book but it felt like his pages were complete blanks. Pages that were deep, far away from the cover, hidden and hoping to never see the light of day.

"Hey, Bucky?" you said, grabbing his attention. "What did you mean that night? When you told me I was something else? And please, don't give me one of those 'you're not like most girls' crap." You gave a snort of disgust.

He chuckled, biting the inner part of his lower lip before speaking. "I wasn't, anyway. You just intrigue me, that's all."

You subtly glance at him. "I intrigue you?"

"Yes, honestly you do. And you're fun to be with. It's not everyday someone agrees with me to scare off a one night stand the first day we meet." He laughed. "And I would like to get to know you better. And not just here."

You knitted your brows together in utter confusion. "Wait, what do you mean not just here?"

He shrugged, his eyes leaving yours and looked at somewhere else besides you. "Like outside."

"Like outside?" You repeated, the realization dawning on you. "Bucky, are you asking me out on a date?"

Bucky lifted his head and proceeded to look at the spotty ceiling, his lips curved downward. "If you want it to be."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Then, he shot his head towards you, an agonizing frown marring his perfectly chiseled face. "Why not?"

You could think of many reasons why it would be a bad idea. First, you haven't been on a date for a very long time. Every person who had asked you out never had the luck of receiving a good answer from you. Second, Bucky was a complicated man.

And third, it would feel like betraying Peter.

"You're Peter's stepbrother." You sighed, defeated. "I can't do that to him."

"Right. Peter."

Marco came just about damn time to give you your newly-cooked food. Bucky ordered the same thing he got last time he was here: an Aglio Oglio pasta, paired with two large slices of pizza and garlic bread while you got a footlong Italian sub dripping with Marco's secret family sauce he never dared reveal. Marco said something in Italian before going back to the counter to tend to other customers.

Bucky smiled at you before you started digging in and began to speak. "How about this? Just two friends hanging out, not in the apartment, not here, not even at the bar, and getting to know one another. No funny business. Just like this. How does that sound?"

"As long as you promise not to give me those weird creepy stares you've been giving me since last night."

"Please, you also couldn't keep your eyes off me." He rolled his eyes. "Plus, I do have to admit you do look hot making drinks." He scrunched up his nose, taking a bite of his pizza without his eyes leaving yours.

A wave of confidence surged right through you, prompting you to ask this next question: "Did the whole cleavage thing push things?" You winked.

Bucky tilted his head to the side, just like he did this morning in the apartment, swallowing his food. "I'm not gonna lie, doll, that was also pretty hot."

"You should thank my friend Nat for that then."

He smirked. "I'll be sure to. So, uh, are you in?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, I don't know how you kids these days ask things. Is it like that? I feel like it is."

You rolled your eyes, chucking a piece of garlic bread to his face. "I'm not a kid. By the way, how old are you?"

"I'm turning thirty-nine next month."

"Thirty-nine." You repeated. "Wow, if we were to go on a date, you'd be the oldest guy I've dated."

"Well, I'd be honored."

After your little lunch, Bucky went back to his office in his penthouse to deal with a few things with his associates while you, on the other hand, headed to the bar and started to fix all the stuff accordingly. A few hours later, Nick and Nat silently creeped up behind you, scaring the shit out of you and nearly making you drop the bottle of whiskey you were holding. You scolded both of them which they just, in turn, shrugged off.

You pulled Nat into one of the booths, making sure you were out of Nick's sight and wouldn't be able to hear you.

"Bucky kind of asked me out on a date." You whispered.

"Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he has the hots for you!" She said with a voice louder than you would've liked.

"Sshh, keep your voice down! I don't want Nick to hear this."

"Oh right, 'cause of the whole thing."

"Yes." You replied. "So anyway, I told Bucky it wouldn't be a good idea because it feels like I'm betraying Parker."

"He's just his stepbrother. Honey, you wouldn't be betraying anyone at all."

"But Parker's my best friend -- "

"Exactly." Nat's eyes bore into yours. "He's just your best friend, not your boyfriend so go date whoever you want to date. Just not Nick. He's kind of a loser."

"Isn't there some kind of code?"

"Like a bro code?"

"Yes, something like that."

"Did you and Peter have an agreement that you shouldn't date his stepbrother?"

You shook your head no.

"Then it's okay."

"Isn't dating your friend's siblings a part of some unspoken rule?"

She rolled her eyes at you, obviously fed up with all the excuses you have been trying to make. "As long as you're not hurting anyone then it's fine."

An exasperated sigh came out of your mouth. "Well, Bucky seemed to kind of agree to it, so what was supposed to be a date turned into just friends hanging out and getting to know each other. His words, not mine."

"Right, and once you get to know each other, you two can go on expensive dates and such."

"I don't know, it doesn't feel right."

"Now, now, don't be too sudden with that thought. Deep down you kind of want this to happen. If you didn't, you wouldn't be having second thoughts about this."

Oh, what you would give to prove Nat wrong but there was nothing else you could give because you knew she was right. You were fleetingly staring at Bucky as much as he did with you. And right from the get-go, there was spontaneity which opened up a whole new thrill in you. Something you never thought you'd ever feel.

The rest of the night felt excruciatingly slow.

There were some familiar faces in the crowd and some unfamiliar ones brought in by the regulars, having fun on Saturday night. While you were taking orders and making drinks left and right, your eyes kept roaming in the nameless faces inside the bar, hoping to see Bucky but your hopes were crushed when you found no sign of him. You were forced to take your mind off him for once as you were flooded with more orders, and complicated drinks that weren't on the menu. In the middle of your shift, there was even a small argument between a college student and a man in his thirties at the pool table. Eventually, the man, assaulting the poor boy, got kicked out of the house by Steve which was just a piece of cake with all the muscles he was packing.

Steve approached you with a stern look on his face. "If you see that guy again, don't let him in anymore alright? I don't want any fights in my bar."

"Got it." You said, taking note of the man's face from earlier. You warned the other bartenders beside you and the waitresses going around. You sighed, thinking to all the times you've told Steve to hire bouncers for the place but he just said:

"What do you need bouncers for when I'm here?"

And it was kind of hard to argue with that because it did make sense. The only problem was he was always cooped up in that small office of his. You never bothered to learn the secrets he was keeping in there. He couldn't always be doing work stuff. But after a few weeks of working with him, it was best to let those things slide as he was your boss.

Once your shift ended, you texted Bucky where he was but you never got a reply. You exchanged numbers right before he went back to the White Wolf.

You were greeted by an unlocked apartment once you got there but there was no sign of Bucky.

"Bucky?" You called out his name as you removed your jacket and placed it on the coat rack just beside the door. "Are you here?"

Silence answered you back. You went into your room and changed your shirt into something a bit more comfortable: an oversized sweater. A few seconds after you changed, you received a message from Bucky telling you to go to the rooftop.

You immediately went up, the chilly New York air touching your cheeks. You emerged from the ladder with a bewildered look crossing your face. The once grimy floor of the rooftop was perfectly cleaned up, leaving no dust and dirt behind. There were two large crates in the middle, big enough for two people to sit on. On top of the crate were a large box of pizza (you assumed it was from Marco's), and two bottles of ice cold beer.

"What on earth?" You gasped, finding Bucky emerging from behind a big box just casually standing against the brick walls.

"Hey, doll." He greeted you with a cheeky smile.

You stepped towards him, enveloping yourself in a hug in an attempt to warm yourself up against the cool air. "Did you clean our rooftop?"

"I may or may not have. Who knows? Anyway, I got us some pizza. I figured you were hungry from your late shift."

As a matter of fact, you really were. Drained from the endless orders and demands, you usually didn't have the time to sneak a bite of food or even a sip of water.

"I got the pizza from Marco's. He's a really nice man and was more than glad to see me when I stopped by."

"Of course he was." you laughed, sitting down on one of the crates. You opened the box, your mouth already drooling from the sight of Marco's mouth-watering pizza. "He likes the dough. Ha! Get it?"

He rolled his eyes at you but with a hint of a small smile in his lips as joined you on the crates. "So, are you gonna spend the night in the apartment?" You asked.

"Yes."

"What, got another girl back in the penthouse?" You teased, nudging his shoulder.

He gave you a throaty, sarcastic laugh. "This time, no."

"Too bad. I was ready to give a performance of a lifetime." You chuckled, glancing at him sideways and catching him with a big smile on his face.

You looked around you. The only source of light you had was the city lights towering above, and ahead of you. "You know," you started, "if you hung those little lights on the walls or just above us, this would seem like a date."

He pretended to wipe some sweat off his forehead. "Phew, dodged a bullet over there huh?"

You giggled, tipping the cap off the ice cold light beer and bringing the top of the bottle to your mouth. The liquid felt cold in your mouth but soon warmed up, nestling inside your stomach.

"This is nice." you commented then started to ramble on some more. "It'd be nicer to see New York during sunset though. Ever since I got the night shift in the bar, I rarely do. It's all the traffic and bright city lights."

You painted Bucky a picture of the last sunset you've watched. You had no recalling memory when it was but you remembered it as another cold day (but not as cold as tonight). The colorful sunset hues plastered in the high skies. Seeing it from the rooftop felt like they could easily be reached, as if they were wanting to be touched. And without a warning, the sun started to go down millisecond by millisecond.

"To others, what happens after a sunset is just another sign of the darkness to come. And then poof, city lights." you continued, then proceeded to gesture at the sky. "But for me, the feeling after a sunset is what I love the most. The sun wallowed in serenity in the pale break of light in between those dark clouds forming. Ugh, I just love that."

"I see what you mean." Bucky hummed, withdrawing his eyes to the sky to look at you. "It's like an afterglow."

"Yes, like an afterglow." You agreed, meeting his intense gaze. "If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable."

"A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset." He replied. "But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people are some things you can never miss."

You just hummed in response, taking a huge sip of your beer. " So, when did your love for photography start?" Bucky asked.

"It started when I was young." You replied. "I would play around with my parents' digital cameras, take photos of literally everything around me, especially when we were on vacation. It was just a hobby then. I never thought of it as a means of living until I was in college. God, I hated business school. Every second of it. I just did it to make my parents happy but I really wanted to be out there, embracing people, embracing everything in life. It's like -- "

"Capturing people's stories in a different light?" He continued for you, as if reading your mind.

"Exactly." You smiled, quite happy that he saw it the way you usually did.

"If it wasn't for the hotel business I also would've been an artist. Maybe an actor."

"So, why didn't you?"

"Because business is all I know." He sighed. "Tony Stark, the guy who adopted me, taught me everything there was to know. As he was building his empire, he pulled me towards it and now, I'm running one of his hotels. Y'know, I don't think of him as a father or anything. More like a friend, a wingman."

And just like that, Bucky peeled himself like an onion. Slowly. Layer by layer by layer. But then he stopped. He opened his mouth to say more but then he decided to stop. You waited but nothing else came out. As much as he wanted to know you, you too wanted to know him — and not just his wild adventures but the things that were deeper than that.

It felt nice to talk to Bucky this way. Actually, it wasn't just nice. It was very comfortable that it gave you a warm sensation on your chest.

Seeing that he wasn't as comfortable as he was before opening up, you steered to a different topic. "Have you ever felt that kind of feeling?" you asked.

"What feeling?"

"The afterglow feeling."

"No," he chuckled, "I don't think so. I'm stuck in a routine, y/n. Business, party, booze, girls. Nothing exciting, nothing out of the ordinary. Everything's the same, everything feels like nothing after."

You agreed with him. "I guess I'm also stuck in a rut." You harmonized with his laughter, seeing your life flash before your eyes. "Cheers to that."

With that, you drank the night away.

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