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writerlyhabits · 2 years

Text

Old Friend

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 8.0k

Summary: Your old friend from high school comes into town, so you and Bucky take her and her husband out dancing at Morelli’s. Though maybe putting a WWII enthusiast in the same room as one of the Howling Commandos wasn’t your greatest idea…

Ch 9 of the Neighbors Series | Masterlist | Ch. 8 | Ch. 10

Warnings: shameless flirting, cheesy 50s slang, pet names cause they’re dumb, slight panic for Bucky and our reader but nothing too serious, I don’t know how to swing dance but I write about it anyway, idk guys it’s pretty fluffy

AN: Whoops my hand slipped. The idea for this chapter was actually like the whole backbone of this series – once upon a long time ago it was supposed to be chapter four… and here we are 😂 Not only was this picture of Seb a heavy influence, but it's actually based on some of my personal experiences and people I’m friends with in real life (I didn’t introduce their characters very well, but they won’t come back so it’s fine lol) and I had a fun time interpreting them and their interests into my little Neighbors universe 😂 Thank you as always to my beloved @deceiverofgodss for staying up late into the night countless times to help me fight through this chapter, ily 💛 I won’t lie, it’s a little bit of a filler chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy!

Picture credit unknown

“I remember you telling me about that! How was it?” you asked as a familiar knock came to your door. As your old friend from high school continued on the other side of the phone, you couldn’t just yell out to him, so you got up off of the couch to let your stray super soldier in. The one who had a key, knew how to use it, and still knocked on your door when he wanted to come over. ‘I don’t wanna intrude, or catch you off guard,’ he’d reasoned, so you settled; when he knocked, you yelled back. Well, when you could.

“... and no matter how many times that mom yanked him away, I swear, I thought he was going in,” she admitted, rambling about some story from her and her husband’s visit to the Lincoln Memorial. When in DC… You laughed along with her as you opened your door, immediately met with a bright smile and Bucky’s shining blue eyes, and you noticed the bag of fruit in his hand as he followed in behind you.

“That would’ve been a fun story to retell later,” you started, closing the door and turning around to find Bucky slipping his free hand around your waist as he pulled you close. The hand you didn’t have your phone in instinctively latched around his neck, and he watched you closely as he waited for you to finish talking. “Can you imagine? ‘Oh, the trip was great, aside from having to fish little Jimmy out of the Reflecting Pool’.” He gave you a quizzical look as you finished your statement, but it didn’t last long, swooping in to steal a kiss from you as laughter came through the speaker.

“Hi doll,” he whispered, and you hummed in amusement against his lips as he kissed you one more time. Your hand lingered on his shoulders as he leaned back to set his fruits on the counter, pulling you with him.

“Oh my gosh, and I wish you could’ve made it so you would have seen Gabe, he almost fell over trying to look all the way up the Washington Monument.” You giggled lightly at the idea of her husband’s antics. The man in your arms turned back to you and nodded at the phone in your hand.

“Who’re you talking to?” he nearly mouthed. You tilted the phone away from your mouth ever so slightly to respond.

“It’s Bella,” you answered, and he nodded in understanding before he curled back into you and tucked himself in the crook of your neck.

“Who’s there with you? I can let you go if you’ve got company!” You felt him smile against your skin as he heard the similar question echo back from the other end.

“You’re fine, James just walked in. My other job is being his entertainment in the afternoons, so he’s asking who stole me away.” Bella laughed with you as you reacted to the vibranium finger that poked your side, flinching impossibly closer to him.

“Oh! I remember why I called! I keep forgetting that one of our ticket reservations got moved to Saturday night, so we can’t make it to swing dancing with you guys. Which sucks, I really wanted to go, it sounded so fun!” She lamented, and you couldn’t stop yourself from slouching a little in your disappointment, the strong arms around you taking your extra weight without hesitation. You opened your mouth to respond, but paused when Bucky lifted himself to your ear with a purpose.

“What are they doing tomorrow? Morelli’s has dance nights all week,” he offered, lingering there to place kisses just under your ear. Little shit… he was at least being discreet, but he knew how much you loved that spot, and no doubt took pride in the extra pause you needed to compose yourself enough to relay the information.

“That’s actually perfect, we kinda had a gap in our plans that night. And I’ll have a chance to wear the dress someone insisted I didn’t need to pack.” You giggled as you heard her husband grumble something in the background before the two of you said your goodbyes, and Bucky stood up to look at you properly, ready for your attention to shift back to him.

“Hey there Sarge,” you said sweetly, linking your other hand around his neck now that your phone had been discarded.

“Hey yourself,” he replied, donning a boyish grin – having taken to the not-so-new nickname very well – before he leaned down to steal another kiss from you. You hummed as his lips met yours, and after a few lingering pecks he was pulling away to look at you, lifting a hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“So, Morelli’s on a Friday night? That’ll be a treat,” you started, hoping to get more information out of him after he was so quick to offer a solution. But as you questioned him, his eyebrows seemed uncertain as he smiled at you sheepishly.

“I- yeah… They’ve got a different theme for each day; Fridays are Fifties nights, and- yep, I knew you were gonna like that,” he chuckled, cutting himself off as he watched your expression change, eyebrows shot up and your eyes wide as the corners of your mouth tilted upwards.

“Oh my god, James?! Why haven’t we ever been on a Friday?” You asked all too excitedly, already wondering to yourself where that old poodle skirt you’d bought for a costume years ago had escaped to.

“For one, because Saturdays are swing nights,” he said with a pointed look, playfully reminding you just what it was he did with you every week. “But also… because I don’t know anything about the fifties.” It came out shy and a little quieter than his last statement, but it was earnest, and kind of adorable.

Oh, this would be fun.

“You’re in luck, because I just happen to like old things.”

“Mmhmm, I noticed.” You brought your hands down to smack his chest in response, giggling with him as he held you close and wouldn’t let you escape. “But can your expertise fix a man out of time with… this?” He asked genuinely, holding out his left hand for emphasis, though it was still gloved. You pried one of your hands out from between you to take the glove off for him, admiring the vibranium plates and the gold detailing.

“By the end of the night, you’ll pass off as a proper Danny Zuko. And you can do it all while wearing this jacket you love so much,” you mused, fiddling with the lapels of the leather jacket he’d yet to slip out of, holding you clearly being his top priority.

“Danny… why do I get the feeling there’s a cheesy movie involved?” He asked skeptically. You only giggled mischievously as you patted his chest, slipping out of his grasp and making your way to the kitchen.

“Grease is the easiest way to catch you up, so we’re gonna watch it, cheesy or not.” He only groaned behind you as you opened the fridge, hearing him finally slip out of his jacket and toss it on the coffee table. “And I don’t feel like cooking, so come pick your leftovers.”

“How much of that soup is left?” he asked, but before you turned to answer him he slipped behind you, one arm on the small of your back as he made his way to the fruit bowl on your counter. He emptied the contents as he spoke, gently placing each deep purple fruit on top of the others. “I don’t feel like doing dishes, you and I could share the rest if there’s enough?”

“Plums, huh?” you smiled as you watched him keep the last one in his hand, taking the large bowl of soup out as he looked up to acknowledge you. “You get those from that cart that’s always set up at the park?” He only hummed in response as he bit into the small fruit, and you didn’t even need to be looking at him to tell how juicy it was. He groaned in approval, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“They were perfectly ripe, I couldn’t pass ‘em up,” he said through a mouthful, leaning against the counter as you went to reheat the remnants of the meal from the week before. “I haven’t had any this good since Romania.”

“Remind me when that was again…” you tried, brows furrowed as you tried to remember all of his destinations and what order they went in. It wasn’t exactly something the two of you talked about a lot; he didn’t bring it up, and you didn’t push. So when he did mention it, you were sure to hang onto every word.

“That was after I didn’t bomb the U.N.” he replied nonchalantly, holding the purple fruit out to you. He watched you carefully as you leaned forward to take a bite of it in his hand.

“That was with that Zemo guy, right?” you asked through a mouthful, and Bucky nodded. “Whatever happened to him, anyway? I don’t remember much, the coverage on all of that got super complicated at the end.”

“They’ve got him in a high-security facility in Berlin.” You paused for a second just looking at him, a little taken aback by the fast response and waiting for the elaboration you could feel accompanying it. “They uh, kept pretty tight tabs on him in Wakanda.” You couldn’t blame them…

“So he’s pretty much done for life?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at you as you spoke up, finishing up the rest of his sweet snack. “I mean, it doesn’t exactly sound like he’s getting a chance at parole. And even if he did, the Wakandans seem like they’re ready to swoop in.”

“Something like that,” he muttered, the corners of his lips teasing a smile as he continued to look at you. You could feel your cheeks heat up, preening under his tender gaze.

“What?” You asked, your brows furrowed as he kept looking at you so intently. He stayed quiet as he reached a hand up to cup your cheek.

“You got a little something right here…” he trailed off, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth, always one for dramatics as he kissed a drop of the plum juice off of your face. He lingered to press his lips against yours and with each one he lingered a little longer, kissed you a little deeper, pulled you a little closer, giving in to the way your lips molded together…

Until the microwave alerted you that dinner was ready.

“Did you get it?” you asked coyly as he pulled away ever so slightly, a hint of irritation at the interruption evident on his brows. But there was a reverence in his eyes as he looked at you, thinking of his response,

“Mhmm, I think so.”

“Good, cause we’ve got a movie to watch.” The groaning returned as he slouched against the counter again, clearly wanting to roll his eyes but thinking better of it when you raised your eyebrows at him. “You brought this on yourself, you knew I wasn’t gonna let you get away with not knowing anything,” you reasoned, placing the bowl in one of his hands and dragging him to the living room by his free one.

“How ‘bout you just tell me about the fifties instead? I’m a great listener,” he tried as he plopped down onto your couch, tucking into you as you reached for the remote, and nuzzling himself into the spot below your ear again.

“James, if you keep complaining I’ll make you watch an Elvis movie, too.” You chuckled as his forehead met your shoulder, making yourself comfortable tangled up in his lap.

…

Bucky gave himself one last once-over in the mirror, smoothing out the very tight white t-shirt you asked him to wear tucked into his dark jeans, figuring it was as good as he was gonna get. You would fix it for him if you decided you needed to, he assured himself as he slipped on his leather jacket and grabbed his things off the front table.

He smiled to himself as he approached your door, an upbeat tune he didn’t recognize blasting through your apartment as he lined his key up to the handle. He wrapped his vibranium knuckles against the door, and he could just make out your usual shout of admittance over the speakers.

“I did the best I could, what’dya think, doll?” he asked the seemingly empty apartment, though he could see glimpses of movement from you in the bathroom.

“I’m sure you did great, lemme see,” you smiled as you stepped out of the doorway, fastening one of your earrings before you took him in. And as your eyes raked over him, he felt his breath hitch as he was treated to your outfit for the night.

Your black, quarter-sleeved blouse hugged your body flatteringly, the neckline high enough to allow the sleeves to begin just past your shoulders. You had it tucked into the poofy, light pink skirt that featured large pair of cherries, the whole look completed by the black and white saddle shoes you’d raved about finding last week. When his eyes traveled back up to your face, your hair pulled together in a fun updo, he found your eyebrow raised and your hands poised at your hips.

“Well hey there Daddy-o, aren’t you just a hunk of heartbreak?” you smiled, and he couldn’t help the dopey grin that spread across his face at your playful attention, more than ready to reciprocate.

“I don’t wanna break your heart, doll face,” he teased, reaching out to pull you into him by your waist, making you laugh as he cupped your cheek to get you to look back up at him. “How’d I do? Really?”

“You did great, you look like a proper greaser,” you said softly, smoothing your hands over the lapels of his jacket before glancing up at him through your lashes. “You gonna take me parking? Play some backseat bingo?" You asked sweetly, your voice lilting in a velvet tone he rarely heard from you, and it took more effort than he cared to admit to stop himself from displaying just how much he liked your suggestion. No… instead, he was gonna turn it back on you so that you were the flustered one. His favorite game.

“Oh? And what does that mean?” he asked innocently, immediately throwing you off your rhythm. Your eyes dropped from his, dancing around his lips and away to his jaw before you realized neither were going to help you.

“I- well- it’s nothing… c’mere I’ve gotta fix your hair,” you stumbled nervously, trying to pull away from him with a soft smile as you backpedaled out of your teasing. But he wasn’t done with you.

“You don’t wanna do some necking in the back of my Grease Lightning?” He asked as he followed you, stopping you on your way by grabbing at your hips. You giggled as your back hit his chest, shying away from the super-soldier when he began attacking your neck with chaste kisses.

“James, we’ve gotta get going soon!” You managed, and he admitted defeat. Placing one last kiss on your cheek before he relinquished his hold, accepting your hand in his when you made to drag him into the bathroom.

It was a small space, a little cramped with his muscular frame towering over yours, but maneuvering the room together was a dance the two of you had come to know well. You didn’t hesitate to direct him to sit on the counter as you sorted through the array of tools beside the sink, turning back to him as you gathered product on your hands. And he kept his chuckle to himself when you had no qualms over standing between his legs, getting right up in his space. That’s where he liked you.

But then your hands went in his hair…. He couldn’t help but close his eyes as you raked your fingers through his short hair, your nails scratching his scalp just right, pushing it this way and that…

“Mmm, I gotta warn you peach, the last person who played with my hair like that…” he sighed, fingers toying at your sides as he wiggled his eyebrows playfully. He peeked his eyes open to find your gaze concentrated on his hair, but a smile on the corner of your lips.

“Keep it in your pants, Barnes, we’re gonna be late,” you breathed in amusement as you finished your work, tilting your head towards the mirror to get him to take a look. Not wanting to move from where he was –better yet, to keep you where you were– he simply turned to look at himself over his shoulder, holding your waist as a counterbalance while he eyed the pompadour you had crafted.

“I look like I’m from the wrong decade,” he teased, delighted by your snicker. His focus was pulled from his own reflection to yours as he watched you lean across the counter for something, smiling when his hold prevented you from going far.

“At least we match decades now,” you mused. He watched with unabashed interest as you picked up a tube of chapstick and decorated your lips with it. Lips he couldn’t keep himself away from…

“Can I get some?” he heard himself ask, and you hummed in response as you held the tube out to him. If you had turned to look, you would have seen the brief offended glare he gave the object in your hand. You knew him better than that.

Instead, he used his free hand to push it away, his grip light as he held your jaw to make you face him. He took a brief moment to admire your wide eyes before pulling you closer, kissing you soft and slow like he knew drove you crazy. His hand slipped behind your neck, the other firm on your waist as your lips slotted together. Your hand left the counter and brushed over his thigh, leaning into his touch, making him consider staying right here just a little longer.

But he leaned back, and couldn’t help the sly grin that crept upon his face as he watched your eyelids flutter open.

“Thanks, sweets.” He gave you a quick pat to your rear before untangling himself from around you, the chapstick forgotten in your hand as he slipped past you and through the door to the living room. He was only glad you couldn’t see the dumb smile on his face when he heard your exasperated giggle, proof that he’d left you properly flustered.

…

“You weren’t kidding, this place is adorable,” Bella exclaimed as she walked up to the two of you, having stood outside of Morelli’s to wait for the rest of your party. She was dressed in a navy blue, sailor-style dress, a white crinoline filling out the skirt for her trademark rockabilly style. It hugged her curves in all the right places, matched perfectly with a bandana tying up her dark hair, and a pair of mary-janes with anchors decorating the toe.

“You haven’t even seen the inside, just wait,” you raved excitedly as you wrapped her in a tight hug.

“This is cool, that there’s a whole place dedicated to dancing. Back home we just go to the USO,” her husband Gabe explained as he reached out to shake Bucky’s gloved hand. In almost a comical difference from the soldier’s broad, leather-covered shoulders, Gabe wore a simple collared bowling shirt tucked into a pair of slacks.

“You’re kidding, they still do that?” he asked excitedly, and as you pulled away from your old friend you watched as panic slowly started to cross over his face, looking over at you to rescue him.

“Some of them! Obviously, it’s not as popular as it used to be, but it’s popular enough in our little town that they keep it going,” she rattled off, catching your partner by surprise while hers merely chuckled beside her. “And he always makes fun of me for my useless wartime knowledge, but it’s cool and you know it.”

Bucky’s skepticism seemed to shift itself into a smile at her comment, and you couldn’t stop yourself from curling back into him, your hands gripping the leather sleeve of his jacket.

“James is a bit of a history buff, too,” you started, giving his bicep a squeeze as you made the pun, sharing in a round of giggles as he flexed it in your hands for added effect. “I’m sure you two will have plenty of weird tidbits and war stories to share.”

“They might just keep each other occupied long enough for the two of us to slip inside unnoticed.” Gabe nodded in the direction of the diner as he teased, and it was as sufficient a cue as any to begin leading everyone inside.

As you had suspected, the diner looked no different than any other Saturday night you had gone with Bucky, but the atmosphere was completely different. Poodle skirts and leather jackets were everywhere, a handful of exaggerated Elvis style wigs could even be seen in the commotion, and early rock and roll blasted through the speakers to replace the crooners and big bands you were used to.

You found yourselves situated around one of the taller tables near the dance floor in the back – all of the booths having been taken, the crowd a little larger than Saturday nights – getting settled as the newcomers took everything in. It was a nice change of routine, starting your night at the Diner with Bucky standing so close to you, leaning against the table with one hand resting on your hip to keep you close.

“So what did you guys do today? I feel like there’s an adventure you haven’t told me about yet,” you grinned, deciding to wait until the song changed before you tried joining the dancefloor. The music may have changed, but the couple's moves were more or less the same you and Bucky were used to. Before answering, Bella’s face changed to a reserved smile that seemed to hold a hint of disappointment.

“Well, we were at the Smithsonian today, but didn’t get to see everything we wanted,” she explained.

Your heart jumped to your throat, and you felt Bucky’s grip on you tighten.

“Oh? Which, um… which museum did you go to?” you managed, trying to act casual as you could feel your partner start to shift himself so he was turned towards you, trying to shy away from receiving any of their attention.

“The Air and Space. She’s been antsy to go this whole trip, I’m sure you know how much she’s been dying to go see the Captain America exhibit.” her husband teased, and you had to make an effort to smile with them as you remembered to breathe.

This had to be some cruel trick the universe was playing on you… Was this how Bucky felt the day you saw his face in the museum months ago? Fuck, this is torture. You spared a glance at the man beside you, a forced hint of a smile on his lips as he looked out over the restaurant before glancing back down at you. Trying to ease his mind, you stepped closer into his embrace, resting one of your hands over the one he had on the table. He began rubbing circles across your back in response, waiting for the other two to say something – anything.

“If only I’d have been able to see it,” Bella sighed.

What?

“You didn’t go in?” Bucky asked only a little eagerly, able to pass it off as empathetic disappointment.

“We couldn’t, they had it closed for renovation. I think they’re adding something to the exhibit?” You ignored your previous caution as Gabe explained, immediately looking to your super-soldier to find him doing the same, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are they adding?” You asked, wracking your brain as you tried to think of anything you’d seen or heard recently that might have had to do with the late Captain. Just one of the perks of spending so much time around James Barnes.

“They didn’t say. Maybe they’re just giving it an update after everything that’s happened?” He continued, shrugging his shoulders in uncertainty. You did your best to recover the appearance of a normal level of curiosity as Bucky continued to smooth a comforting hand over your back, and you could feel him release a breath of relief to rid himself of any previous tension.

“I’m sorry, this is gonna seem so random,” Bella laughed, looking directly at your partner. You realized, as your brain started to catch up with you again, that she’d been watching him for the past several minutes. “I hope it’s not weird, James, but I just have to tell you that you look so familiar.”

“I- Are you sure? It’s not just this get-up I was told to put myself in?” He recovered beautifully, and you forced a breathy laugh at his tease. Thank god he was so quick on his feet…

“No no, it’s your face… I don’t know, for whatever reason I feel like I’ve seen you before,” she continued earnestly, smiling sheepishly as she continued to study his face.

Your heartbeat was thumping in your ears as you looked back at him, willing yourself to come up with something that would lead her thoughts away from any pictures of a young Army Sergeant she may have come across in her fascination with the Captain and his Howling Commandos. She couldn’t have picked any other Avenger to latch onto? It had to be Steve?

“Sorry, I know that’s weird,” she laughed, shaking her head as if to be rid of the thoughts, and you couldn’t have been more relieved with the conversation change. “We came here to dance, I don’t wanna keep us off the dancefloor!”

“That sounds like a great idea,” James piped up, returning back to his usual self now that loose ends were… well, maybe not tied up, but tucked away at the very least. “I heard you two have been dancing for a few years?”

“Once we went out to the USO, we haven’t stopped going back,” Gabe explained, looking at his wife reverently, a small act of affection that you couldn’t help but smile at. You leaned back against Bucky’s chest, a warmth washing over you as he pressed his lips ever so gently to the top of your head.

“Oh this is gonna be a blast, it’ll be just like when we learned in high school!” Bella exclaimed, and you wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

Why did you think introducing her to Bucky was a good idea?

You dared not look at the man towering over you, making a point to look in the opposite direction as his eyes bore into the back of your head. You watched out of your peripherals as your dear old friend gave her husband a glance before chuckling amongst themselves.

“Uh oh, did I say too much?” she smiled, entertained by Bucky’s behavior as much as you were trying not to be.

“Oh, not at all,” he answered huskily for you, and it took everything in you to keep your composure. “I just seem to remember a certain someone begging me, ‘Oh please James, teach me how to dance’,” he said in an exaggerated tone, raising the pitch and drawing it out just to mock you.

God, you wanted to smack him.

“Okay, first of all, I didn’t say it like that,” you snarked as you whirled around to face him, finding yourself right up in his space as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. His cocky grin only grew as he kept watching you with a cocked eyebrow, and you elected to ignore the giggles coming from across the table. “And, in my defense, we learned in gym class forever ago where I had to lead because there weren’t enough boys in the class.”

“That’s right, that guy who liked you wasn’t too happy about it,” Gabe piped up. Bucky gave him a sideways glance, silently begging for more information that he would no doubt use against you. “I remember he came whining to her, talking about how much he’d wanted to dance with her.”

“Well I don’t know that I can blame the kid,” he said sweetly, turning back to you and making your cheeks heat up. You could tell there was more he wanted to say, but for whatever reason – maybe present company – he held his tongue.

“I wanted to start from scratch, so I very nicely asked you to teach me,” you defended, watching Bucky nod in mock disbelief, and you almost rolled your eyes at him. “Besides, you like doing all those fancy moves, I didn’t know how to do those before you.” You held his gaze long enough to watch his attitude shift into something that could only be described as adoration; sometimes you hated how much you loved it.

“Alright then, you’re forgiven,” he winked at you, and this time you really did roll your eyes.

“Wait, what kind of fancy moves? I need to see this in action,” Bella squealed, making for the dance floor as the current song was coming to a close.

Bucky was eager to join your friends, but before he could get far you placed a hand on his chest to keep him beside you at the table. Watching closely to make sure the other two were out of earshot, you leaned in close so that you were just beside his ear.

“What are you-”

“Just watch them for a second,” you whispered, waiting for him to glance back out at the dancefloor before turning to do the same. And, just as you had suspected, you watched your friends dance the exact same way you had all learned in school – badly.

You turned back to look at your partner, linking your arms around him under his jacket, as you waited for his reaction; his furrowed brows and confused expression were better than you could’ve guessed.

“They’re so… stiff. Are they just stepping side to side? It’s so- oh, please tell me that’s not how he spins her, tell me it’s a joke right now,” he muttered under his breath so only you could hear him, his eyes glued to the awkward dance pattern your friends had perfected. “They- I shouldn’t judge. It’s just… that’s step one, not the actual dance. Or at least not any kind I’ve seen before.”

You may have been enjoying your moment a bit too much, unlinking your hands to slide one up his chest without a care in the world to who was watching. He was still occupied with the two dancing happily amongst the crowd, but his hands instinctively found you, and you wouldn’t have minded staying that way all night.

“That is why I asked you to teach me,” you started, his expression shifting to something lighter when he looked over at you. “What we learned just … it wasn’t enough for me. I did my research, I knew what swing could be, and that’s what I wanted.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?” he asked softly, tucking away a hair to let his fingers ghost across the shell of your ear.

“They have fun dancing together… I didn’t want to ruin their fun or offend them.” He nodded slowly at your explanation, distractedly brushing his thumb across your cheek.

“And why not tell me?” he asked with a cocked brow, and you raised yours in question. “If I’d known you had been taught before, I would have started differently.”

“Then I think you just answered your own question,” you smirked. He tilted his head as he waited for your elaboration, and you giggled as he dropped his hand to link both arms around your waist and pull you in impossibly close. “I had one of the Howling Commandos dropped on my doorstep, how many other people can say they’ve been taught how to swing like I have? I wanted you to teach me the good stuff, directly from the past.”

“And to think… all this time I thought you just wanted an excuse to get closer to me.” You continued to laugh at him as he pretended to be disappointed.

“Aw, dammit Barnes, you saw right through me,” you teased, finally earning a chuckle from him in reply as his bravado started to break.

“That’s alright, I know I’m irresistible.”

“What have I done… Take me dancing before your ego gets too big,” you groaned, trying to break out of his grasp but he held you firm.

“We’ll show ‘em how it’s done.” He leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek before releasing you, letting you take his hand and drag him out to the dance floor before the song ended.

…

“How did you two even do that? I stopped trying to keep track of how many times you went over his shoulder, and I wasn’t even watching you half of the time,” Gabe asked, his tone laced with astonishment that left you and Bucky smiling at each other sheepishly, making your way towards the empty booth you managed to find in the chaos.

“James likes to show off how well he can throw me around. Especially when we’ve got company,” you teased, and you knew he was shaking his head at you as you slipped into the seat opposite your friend. When you turned to look at him he was already leaning down closer to you, bracing himself on the table and the back of the seat.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” he taunted, and you hummed in amusement at his scrunchy expression. “You wanna hold the table while I take them up to the counter?” Always the gentleman…

“I’ll stay back with her!” Bella piped up, and you briefly caught her sharing a look with her husband before she recovered. “You know what I like, I trust you.”

“How about you, what are you in the mood for, peach?” Bucky asked you softly, and for whatever reason, you had a desire to wrap your arms around his neck and keep him there. “Did you still wanna try that salad from last time?”

“That sounds perfect. I don’t know that I want fries tonight.” He smiled at you hesitantly before parting from the table, leaving you to watch the boys collect the goods. This new development with Bucky had absolutely ruined you; not even two weeks ago would you have dared be caught watching him for so long, and yet here you were, completely unashamed as you ogled the way his shoulders moved as he walked away.

You didn’t get to enjoy it for very long before your companion interjected.

“Alright, what’s up with you and James?” You snapped to look back at her, the question catching you off guard. “You didn’t introduce him as your neighbor, or your friend, or your boyfriend… just James.”

“I- wow, okay. That’s a bit blunt, don’t you think?” You defended, not bothering to hide how flustered the question made you, she would see right through it anyway. “What if he is just James?” She simply arched an eyebrow to let you know your half-baked answer didn’t land.

It wasn’t like you had a proper answer for her. Whatever was going on with Bucky was… well, there’s no use in selling it short; it was bliss. After flirting for weeks, all your lingering touches and passing glances finally amounted to this wonderful thing. You enjoyed having his hands on you damn near constantly, you liked how easy it was to tease him, and you would let him kiss you for hours if that’s what he wanted…

But it’s hard to remember needing to talk about what your relationship was when you were busy enjoying it.

“Look, I don’t know what to call him, okay?” You reasoned, hoping that an answer equally as blunt as her question might appease her for the evening. The last thing you wanted was to deal with pointed questions, much less force Bucky to sit through it.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked dramatically, and a bit louder than you thought was strictly necessary, giving her a look to say as much. “Girl, that man has been looking at you with heart eyes all night, and you two can’t keep your hands off of each other. And have you seen the way he looks at you? He wants to kiss you so bad he can’t see straight.”

You couldn’t blame him. You’d have bet a lot of money your face probably looked the same.

“What do you want me to say? Clearly, there’s something there, but I don’t have a name for it,” you explained harshly, wanting to be rid of the disappointment written so clearly on her face. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“Why not?” You wanted to ask where these incessant intrusive questions were coming from, but she stopped you before you could get the words out. “I’ve done the dating game before, this whole ‘will you, won’t you’... it’s torture.” Not when it’s Bucky, you wanted to say, but you questioned whether it would help your case.

“It’s still so new, Bella. Aren’t we allowed to just enjoy it for a second?” you reasoned exasperatedly. You could tell she wanted to say something, hesitating to decide whether or not she wanted to continue bugging you about the topic. With a slight roll of your eyes, you continued with a grin; “C’mon, what are you gonna say?”

“I guess I just don’t understand why you’d wait. You’re cute together, and he’s clearly smitten…” Her words hung in the air as you tried to figure out what to say. That you were trying to let a man out of his time navigate the modern dating world at his own pace, that it wasn’t about knowing whether or not you wanted to move forward, but that you would wait as long as it took for him to be ready to do it with you.

As if on cue, you spotted your boys approaching with food-laden arms, returning James’ warm smile as they approached. You looked over at Bella, a silent confirmation that she wouldn’t say a word, before shifting your focus to the other two to help unload their arms. Though as Bucky slid into the booth next to you, you couldn’t help but notice the pile of fries in his basket was much larger than usual.

“That’s a lot of food, James,” you teased, and indirect question as to what his reason was. He only chuckled at first as he got himself situated, so close that you were practically in his lap as he slung an arm on the back of the seat behind your shoulders, cornering you in like he always did.

“I know you said you didn’t want any fries, but I know you better than that. You’re going to change your mind and steal my fries, so I got enough to share,” he admitted, shrugging it off as he looked down at you for a response, and you immediately felt your cheeks grow hot.

Those blue eyes met yours, a soft smile on his lips, and you wanted nothing more than to just kiss him right then and there. He knew you so well, so intimately, and it shocked you a little bit how deeply satisfying it was to feel seen so clearly.

You managed a quiet thanks through your smile, but your emotions soon got the better of you, unable to continue holding his gaze without bursting into a fit of bashful giggles. Looking away from him, you found Bella directly across from you with a look that could only be interpreted as ‘I told you so,’ and you found you couldn’t quite look at her either. Instead, you turned to the bowl in front of you to avoid eye contact with anyone, and you ended up chuckling quietly with Bucky as his hands fell to your shoulder.

You didn’t suffer too many blunders after that, the nosy questions seemed to die back down to a minimum, and you seemed to regain your composure through the rest of the evening. You and Bucky navigated the conversation changes well, falling back into your usual patterns, though Bella’s words didn’t leave you. Even after you had bid your friends goodnight, ascending the stairs to your shared floor with Bucky hovering near you as you unlocked the door.

Stepping back into your apartment, you were suddenly hit with a wall of emotions, and your body made you very clearly aware of its yearning for what you had been deprived of all night. Bucky was talking to you, but the words weren’t sticking as you settled into the space, turning to be met with his back as he closed and locked your door behind him.

The second he turned back around you were on him. Your hands slid up his chest to lock behind his neck, his hands quick to find your hips as you captured his lips with yours. Oh, you were in trouble… Bucky kissed you back and you felt the world slip away, all thoughts leaving your mind except for him.

“Well hello,” he teased, smiling against you as he spoke softly, his sentence punctuated with a kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a few hours.”

“Mmm, I could tell,” you smiled back, making it a little harder to get what you were after, but neither of you let it stop you. You felt his amusement rumble through his chest, a perfect distraction for when he hoisted you up into his arms, guiding your legs to wrap around him without taking his lips off of you.

It was clumsy, giddy even, the way teeth clashed and laughter bubbled through while he carried you over to the couch. If anyone were to accomplish dropping you unceremoniously on the couch while still being gentle, it would be James Barnes; and that’s exactly what he did, crawling back over you not even moments later and encouraging your arms to hang around his neck once more, scattering kisses across the inside of your arm.

In your pause, your brain came back to reality, and the conversation from earlier came back to you. “You didn’t introduce him as your neighbor, or your friend, or your boyfriend… I just don’t understand why you’d wait…” His lips trailed up from your arm to your shoulder, across your collarbone, and up to his favorite spot on your neck, all while you tried to defog your mind just enough to find the courage to open your mouth and say something.

“I- there’s something I want to tell you… but, just bear with me, alright?” he spoke softly beside your ear, and you could hear the grin on his face, bringing one to your own.

“Uh oh, what did you do this time?” you poked, trying to ease some of the tension in your body. He laughed against you, bringing himself up to rest on his forearms so he could look at you.

“No no, it’s not like that.” You gave him a smile of reassurance as you waited, but he seemed to be in a similar place you had just been, watching him hesitate to find exactly the right words he was looking for. “I used to- well, back in the forties…”

“Back in your day?” you mumbled, and he stuck a vibranium finger into your side to get you to stop talking. Why did you tell him you were ticklish? It had very quickly become his favorite weapon to use against you, and you had yet to find out how to get him back.

“Steve and I used to go out dancing a lot. Well, I went dancing and dragged Steve along with me,” he started, the corners of his lips tilting up as he remembered his best friend of long ago. “I know you’re not a big fan of Steve, but I promise I have a point.”

“I didn’t say anything” you laughed. “Go on, I’m listening.”

“He used to say this thing… always talked about finding the right partner. I used to think he was making up an excuse; figured he sat on the sidelines cause he was too scared to ask anyone, ‘cause I danced with everyone.” You couldn't force your body to form words as you anticipated where this conversation was going, instead raising your eyebrows to acknowledge his admission. “I did! Any girl that turned my way, I had ‘em on the floor. To me it was just dancing, I didn’t see the point in being picky. Well… not until you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, finding it hard to swallow as those deep blue eyes you liked so damn much kept looking through to your soul. He had his bottom lip between his teeth as he paused to glance over your features, being completely vulnerable and figuratively holding his heart out to you while you laid beneath him, feeling like you were laid bare as he looked directly through you.

“I don’t want to dance with anyone else. I don’t want you to dance with anyone else. I want to come home and eat leftovers with you, I want to watch dumb movies with you, hell I’d do just about anything you asked me to,” he finished with a small laugh, one you couldn’t help but share. Seeming to battle himself to get the words out of his mouth, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to yours, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. “Sweetheart, I… I think you are my right partner,” he breathed, and you released a shaky breath at his admittance.

A brand new kind of warmth blossomed in your heart at his confession, something you had never experienced before, and it knocked the breath out of your body. You didn’t know how to respond, having the urge to both kiss him senseless and pull him close enough to feel him under your skin.

“And you are mine,” you whispered back, lips ghosting across his as he drifted closer, sealing the gap with a passionate force mere moments after the words left your mouth. Your hands drifted to his hair, his dancing across your sides as he pressed his weight onto you just the way you liked…

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Your conversation with Bella faded from your mind, and the need to name whatever this was vanished from your thoughts completely. You no longer had the care to sort out a name for what this was, you didn’t need to.

He was your Bucky, and that’s all you needed.

…

The next morning you stood in your kitchen, pouring yourself a drink to jumpstart your brain, wanting nothing more than for it to just stop. You were awake earlier than you’d intended for whatever godforsaken reason – especially for what was supposed to be a lazy Saturday morning after your late Friday night – but with your luck, your body wouldn’t let you fall back asleep. After taking your very first sip, your phone lit up on the counter beside you.

Please tell me you’re awake.

The weirdly cryptic message from Bucky normally wouldn’t have caught you by surprise, but he sounded urgent. You grabbed your phone and quickly sent a brief reply, your mind reeling at the possibilities. Though he didn’t leave you waiting very long, an aggressive knock on your door followed soon after.

Opening the door, you found your super-soldier already dressed for the day, likely having just returned from his weekly session with Dr. Raynor, his face drawn in his signature glare. Oh, this can’t be good…

“Buck, what’s going on?”

“The new exhibit,” he started, his voice dripping with rage. “It’s the goddamn shield.”

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