Chapter 1
There's comfort in creating art.
Drawing. Painting. Creating music. Dancing. Doing make-up. Making fashion.
Tattooing.
Bucky never thought he would find so much comfort in creating tattoos for other people. To make them something they will own for the rest of their lives. Watching their faces lit up when they see the final design. People tearing up when they see the design that holds so much meaning to them.
When he was little he got the question; ''What do you want to be when you grow up?'' It's a simple question, often asked by adults.
He remembers being asked during school one time. His teacher showed them a colourful poster, presenting all kinds of professions. A smiling fireman, a dancing ballerina, a nice looking man wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, a teacher. At the time he thought everything looked very cool. He didn't have a preference, though.
When the teacher asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up he fell silent. His classmates all turned around in their chairs to look at him, curious for his answer. But he didn't gave an answer. Because he really didn't know.
Growing up he struggled with the same thing.
He finished high school. Made his parents proud. Got into Harvard to study law. He enjoyed studying and he was smart enough, but it wasn't like studying law was his dream. But that's what you do when you got no clue what to do with your life. Chose something remotely close to what you consider interesting and will help you build a good future.
Studying law was hard but interesting enough. Bucky attended his classes, did his homework, made exams, graduated and got his diploma. He grew up.
After Harvard he got a job at a high-standard law firm. It paid generously and he got to do what he studied for, so Bucky didn't complain. He had a stable life with a small group of friends, his family that loved him and a job he was okay with.
But then the accident happened.
His left arm broken beyond repair. They had to amputate his arm and replace it with a vibranium one. He lost so much that day. Not only his arm but his whole life crumbled, turning into ash before his eyes.
He still doesn't like to think back to that part of his life.
It brought him a lot of pain and misery but it also brought him the best decision in his whole life. Quitting his job as a lawyer and finally pursuing his dream to open his own tattoo shop. There was always an itch at the back of his brain when he grew up, telling him to be more creative. He always drew as a kid but he never thought he would end up using his talent for drawing to his advantage as an adult.
You get a whole other mindset after a near-death experience.
Bucky finally figured out what he wanted in life. It took him almost dying, losing an arm, losing friends and a lot of tears to finally realise he didn't want to survive.
He wanted to live.
So he did. By opening his own tattoo shop, 'Tattoos by Barnes', and finally following his heart instead of his head.
**
Bucky slams the door to the office open, the door hitting the wall behind it with a loud thud.
''What the actual fuck, Steve?!''
Steve doesn't even glance up, vaguely waving while his eyes stay glued to his laptop.
''What's up, Buck?'' he asks, obviously not taking note of Bucky agitated state. Or he just doesn't care. Bucky's eye twitches. He feels anger coiling in his stomach when he stalks to Steve's desk, slamming his laptop close when he reaches his destination.
''Why is Wilson my 10 o'clock appointment?'' he asks. Steve looks like a confused Golden Retriever when he looks up, only for him to slowly blink a few times.
''Because .. he wants a tattoo?''
Bucky closed his eyes and forces himself to take a deep breath. He loves Steve, they're best friends since they were little, but he will personally strangle him on the spot.
When he opens his eyes again Steve is carefully watching him. ''Are you feeling okay, Buck?''
''No, Steve. I'm not fucking okay.'' he answers, slamming his hands on Steve's desk. ''Why would you sign Wilson to me?''
His best friends sighs deeply and rolls his eyes. He pushes Bucky's hands away so he can open his laptop again, clearly not caring about the whole situation.
''Calm down. It's only his intake. Everyone was booked already so I figured you could sit through 30 minutes with him without killing him.'' Bucky laughs, ignoring how painful it sounds.
''You-''
He gets interrupted when Tony appears in the open doorway. Bucky squints his eyes at the other man, taking him in for a moment.
''You're late.'' he points out.
Tony rolls his eyes as he walks into the office, bending over the desk to kiss Steve hello.
''As if you care about me being late.'' Tony takes a seat next to Steve, glancing at the design on his laptop. ''You only care about your 10 o'clock meeting.''
Bucky is this close to hitting Tony over the head with Steve's laptop when the blonde intervenes.
''Let's not kill each other today, yeah?'' he sighs, turning his eyes back to Bucky with a bit more visible regret this time. ''I'm sorry, Buck. I know how you two feel about each other but what was I supposed to do? I can't exactly reject him as a customer.''
He sighs deeply again. Bucky knows Steve is right, but still.
To say they don't get along is an understatement. From the moment they met it was a disaster. They took an immediate dislike to each other. There happened a lot the first time they met. He doesn't like to remember the details, but it's always been this way. Thinking about his first meeting with Sam makes him cringe, stomping on the memory and boxing it away when it tries to make him remember.
They simply never got along. They always fight. It's second nature to them.
Bucky can't stand him. Sam is always so fucking loud and present when they meet up. He draws attention and basks in it while receiving it. Sam is everything Bucky is not. He is the sun while Bucky is the moon. The worst part is he knows exactly how to get a reaction out of Bucky.
They met through Clint. He has been working for Bucky since the beginning, growing part of their small self-made family without any trouble. But Clint's best friend is Natasha, who works with Sam. Steve also knows Sam from college, befriending each other because of their shared classes. Everyone knows each other. Everyone likes each other. Besides the two of them.
Sam Wilson is another part of his life he doesn't like to think about.
Suddenly, Clint is there, too. He appears in the doorway like Tony did a few minutes ago, smirking while pushing his sunglasses in his hair.
''Looking forward to your 10 o'clock, Bucky?'' he asks, earning a laugh out of Tony. Bucky flips him off and ignores Steve calling his name when he walks to the door. He turns around before actually leaving.
''You're all fired.'' he says.
Tony's and Clint's laughter follows him out of the room.
**
''Did somebody ever tell you that you look like that angry cat meme?''
Bucky looks up, immediately rolling his eyes when he sees Sam. The other man is leaning casually against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and still wearing his dark sunglasses. Bucky looks down to his iPad again before answering.
''Did somebody ever tell you that you're not starring in a James Bond movie? You're inside, Wilson, no need for the shades.''
Sam sighs obnoxious but does remove his sunglasses. ''Good morning to you, too, Buck.'' he says, closing the door to the office before he takes a seat opposite of Bucky at his desk.
''Don't call me that.'' Bucky immediately grumbles. God, how is this his life?
There's a tense silence where in Bucky starts up a Word document on his laptop and Sam picks at his nails. He should enjoy the silence while it lasts but Bucky can't help himself. His brain-to-mouth filter loses all of its meaning when Sam is near.
''Shouldn't you be handing out free cappuccinos and lattes to all the girls that come in to swoon over you?''
Sam snorts, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He looks so relaxed and Bucky hates him for it. ''That's not really my thing.'' he answers simply.
Bucky flashes his eyes to the other man momentarily before looking back to his laptop. ''What's not?'' he asks. ''Handing out free beverages?''
''Only to cute guys.''
Bucky snorts and supresses the need to roll his eyes again. He does that a lot around Sam. Steve always tells him he should watch it before 'his eyes get stuck mid-eyeroll.'
''I bet you think every guy coming into your coffee place is cute enough.'' Bucky mumbles. It doesn't surprise him one bit that Sam flirts with guys coming into his coffee place. He's the owner so there's no one to scowl at him when he tries to get a phone number out of a customer.
Sam sighs. He spreads his hands, looking at Bucky with annoyance on his face. It's a standard expression for him to wear around Bucky, just like the other way around. A frown appears between his brows and a small muscle ticks in his jaw, showing off his annoyance.
''Look, Wanda is covering for me for 30 minutes before I have to get back. I just lost five precious minutes to arguing with you about something ridiculous as free coffee.'' Bucky sighs, turning his attention to Sam instead of his laptop. Sam's jaw twitches again. ''Can we please just do what I came here for?''
He swallows. His first instinct is to cross his arms and tell him; ''No, get the fuck out of my office.'' Like a child. Steve would shake his head in disappointment if he could see them right now. That's why he pulls his laptop closer, ignoring Sam's dark eyes that bore into his head.
For the next twenty minutes he forces himself to view Sam as a customer.
He keeps his gaze glued to his screen, only looking up when needed, and asks Sam everything he needs to know. He tries to be as detailed as possible, like he always is, making sure to write everything down on his laptop.
''A falcon?'' Bucky asks. Sam is showing him examples on his phone. He has a whole Pinterest board and everything, filled with pictures, drawings and tattoos of falcons. Bucky didn't have anything specific in mind when he would link a tattoo to Sam, but it wasn't a bird, that's for damn sure.
Sam shrugs. He looks uncomfortable all of a sudden, his shoulders growing tense and face guarded. It's like he's waiting for Bucky to make fun of it and, well.
He isn't wrong.
But something feels off. Normally Bucky would have no problem with throwing in a nasty remark, or two. He would tell Sam he looks somewhat of a bird himself, like a pigeon, basking in the way Sam would roll his eyes in annoyance. This time he swallows his words, instead using the silence to note it down on his laptop.
Sam must interpret the silence for silent judgement because he sits up straight, crossing his arms in front of his body again.
''What's wrong with it?'' His voice has an edge of anger to is, clearly pissed.
It's like holding a flame next to gasoline. Bucky's tummy clenches with annoyance, immediately feeling the need to defend himself without doing anything wrong.
''Nothing.'' he answers, sighing deeply to calm himself somewhat. If they start yelling at each other (again) Steve will have to intervene (again) to make sure they don't start an actual fight (again).
Bucky isn't a violent person. He never fought in his whole life and never will, it's simply not in his nature. When he was younger he did have a lot of anger issues. Puberty was difficult for him, constantly feeling on edge and misunderstood because of hormones raging through his body. When he gets angry he usually starts yelling, frustration bubbling until he floods with emotions.
It got worse since the accident.
He's more guarded. People are curious by heart so it's common for random people to eye his arm and ask him straight forward what happened. They have no shame, curiosity getting the best of them when they see vibranium instead of human flesh. Over the years he learned to deal with it, but it made him more anxious nevertheless. His subconsciousness is constantly waiting for the hurtful questions.
Maybe that's why he reacts to Sam getting defensive the way he does. Because there's a small part of him afraid they'll start fighting, throwing insults and trying to hurt the other. It wouldn't be the first time he called Sam a selfish asshole that only cares about himself and it wouldn't be the first time Sam called him a cyborg that didn't only lose his arm but also his humanity.
That specific nasty fight between them belongs to the file; 'doesn't like to think about it.'
He can practically see his previous therapist purse her lips if he would tell her about today. Bucky was seeing her after his accident but they didn't click at all. She was too straight-forward for his liking. She never made it a secret how disappointed she was in him or how annoyed she got whenever he couldn't find the right words.
That's why he sighs deeply, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to bleed. The metallic taste fills his mouth and forces him to relax his jaw.
''I didn't really take you for a bird lover, that's all.'' he explains, shrugging to come across as casual. Sam squints his eyes but his shoulders slowly drop to a normal level again. He clears his throat and looks away from Bucky, suddenly seeming a bit uncomfortable.
''I'm not. Not really.'' Sam doesn't explain any further so Bucky doesn't push. He nods and slowly scrolls down, buying himself a bit more time. It's weird that Sam wants a tattoo of an animal he doesn't really like but he doesn't care enough to ask. If Sam wants a damn falcon he will get it.
''Where'd you want it?'' Bucky lift an eyebrow when he looks at Sam. He keeps silently telling himself they're almost done. It only takes one more question before he can kick Sam out of his office. He can be friendly until then.
Sam glances at his watch, obviously checking how much more time he has left. ''On my back. Between my shoulders.'' He wipes his hands over his jeans while Bucky types, bouncing his leg up and down.
He tries to keep his mouth shut. But there's only so much he can take from Sam, his patience already wearing thin since the moment the other man stepped inside his office. He looks up, his fingers stopping their movements.
''I'm sorry, am I keeping you from going somewhere?'' His voice drips with sarcasm, annoyance prickling beneath his skin.
God, he is going to kill Steve for putting him through this.
Sam snorts. ''Actually, you are. I have to go back.''
''You came to me, Wilson. Nobody forced you to come here.'' Bucky points out. Sam ignores him in favour of sliding his shades back on his face.
''Steve was the one to schedule me with you, in case you were wondering. It's not my fault you take forever to do a simple intake.''
Bucky watches him stands up and walk to the door, opening the door before he turns back to look at Bucky.
''See you Saturday for Steve's birthday. Hopefully you'll be in a better mood by then.''
The older man huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before turning back to his laptop. Forget being friendly. He is angry at himself for even trying to be compassionate with such an asshole. He allows himself to be childish, answering before Sam leaves the office.
''Drop dead, Wilson.''
**
He's still fuming with anger when his last appointment of the day takes a seat in his chair. Wade Wilson eyes him carefully, blue eyes scanning his face with care. He's a regular, coming in at least once a month for a new tattoo. Sometimes he gets tattooed by Tony when Bucky has a day off, but he usually schedules his appointments when Bucky is working.
Maybe it's Wade's down-to-earth nature or maybe it's because he can relate to Wade, but he likes having him around. Bucky feels at easy around Wade, normal. Wade doesn't treat Bucky like glass because of his arm and Bucky doesn't treat him with pity because seventy percent of his body was burned during a fire a few years ago. It's easy between them. They're simply Bucky Barnes and Wade Wilson. Not the man who lost his arm and has a prosthesis and not the man who is scarred for life. Literally.
''You look like someone ran over your cat. Something happened?'' Wade rolls up the sleeve of his shirt and makes himself comfortable in the chair. He was very shy when he first came in, afraid to get turned down because of his skin. They didn't talk a lot at first but over the course of the years Wade visibly relaxed around Bucky and his team.
Bucky sighs deeply when he begins to clean Wade's arm, making sure to work thoroughly.
''Not really.'' he mumbles.
Technically nothing did happen. Sam pushed and Bucky let himself be pushed. He's mostly angry at himself for allowing Sam to push his buttons. He should know better.
Wade hums softly, keeping his arm still when Bucky sticks the stencil to his skin. It's a bit more difficult because of the scar tissue but he makes it work. When he removes the stencil he takes a look at the lines on Wade's skin, making sure it's clear enough for him to start tattooing.
''Still okay with black and white?'' he asks, making sure to double check. All of Wade's tattoos are in black and white but maybe he changed his mind this time.
He never does. But still.
The other man nods. ''Please.''
Bucky sets to work, carefully working on his first line. Wade's arm is a beautiful canvas filled with different designs. They're working on turning it into a sleeve with flowers, animals and mandalas. Bucky likes to work on Wade because of the creativity he can unleash. The next three hours are filled with tattooing a tiger on his forearm, tail circling around his arm towards his wrist.
''I did Wilson's intake this morning.''
Bucky clenches his jaw. He needs to vent about it or else he's going insane. The whole conversation with Sam keeps replaying in his head like a nightmare lingering. You try to forget about it but it keeps coming back to haunt you. Normally he is quick to talk to Steve when something is bothering him but not this time. Steve is also Sam's friend and even though they know each other less, that doesn't mean he won't take Sam's side when he feels like Bucky is in the wrong.
Wade smiles a little when Bucky looks up to glance at him before returning to his work.
''That must have been fun.''
Bucky snorts, wiping away the excess ink.
Sam and Wade never met but Wade picked up enough to know about their ongoing rivalry. Besides, Bucky needs to talk trash about Sam every once in a while or he'll go stir crazy. It's not like Sam doesn't talk bad about him too behind his back.
''I had the time of my life.'' Bucky answers drily, following a line creating the tiger's ear. ''Still alright?'' He asks Wade often if the pain is tolerable, seeing as his scars sometimes get too sensitive after a while.
The other man nods, waving his free hand. ''What happened?''
Bucky is silent for a moment as he follows a line downwards, creating one side of the head. ''Just-'' he sighs. ''He's so fucking annoying.''
Wade laughs softly and crosses his ankles. ''Yeah, I figured. You tell me every time you get the chance.''
''I don't know, man. He came in and the first thing he does is insult me. I mean, who does that?'' he grumbles. Bucky pulls his chair closer so he doesn't have to bend his back so awkwardly. ''Then he got all defensive when I asked about his tattoo and he was rude when he left. Fucking asshole.''
Wade hums. ''Maybe he didn't mean it like that.'' he offers. ''I don't know the guy but maybe he is just sarcastic by nature?''
''Wilson is only 'sarcastic by nature' when he is around me. We hated each other's guts since the moment we met. We never held one normal conversation.''
The whole situation is just ridiculous. He knows. Sometimes they get into particularly nasty fights that keep him awake at night. The words keep replaying inside his brain, getting heavier every time they return. It's at those times he promises himself to try and make amends with Sam. He's always sure of himself until he sees Sam again. Then everything coils back to anger and annoyance and anxiety.
It's exhausting.
Wade starts saying something but gets interrupted by someone almost falling through the door. Bucky doesn't even lift his head from his work, only laughing when he hears soft cursing.
''Hi, Pete.'' he calls, waving over his shoulder with his free hand.
Peter appears next to him with a flush on his cheeks but smiling nevertheless. He smells like coffee and burned sugar, white streaks of flour in his hair. Bucky laughs again, turning his attention back to Wade's arm.
''You look like a walking pastry, did Wilson dump a bag of flour on your head?''
The silence stretches on for a little too long, causing Bucky to look up again. He catches Peter and Wade looking at each other before Peter seems to process Bucky's words.
''What? No, uhm. I'm on kitchen duty today, y'know, baking pastries and all.'' he smirk sheepish, treading his fingers through his hair to get rid of the flour stuck in it.
''You work at a bakery?''
Bucky lifts his gaze to Wade for a second, surprised he asks Peter a question. Wade isn't exactly anti-social but he's shy and quiet around people he doesn't know. When you get to know him he's really funny and confident but it takes some time for him to warm up to strangers.
He keeps his gaze locked on Wade's arm, ending another line and wiping away the ink again. Eventually Peter comes back to life after being silent for a while, probably trying to get his brain back online.
Bucky knows him too well.
''Oh, no. I work at 'Sam's Coffee' across the street. It's a coffee place but we also sell pastries and stuff.'' he explains. The low buzzing of Bucky's tattoo machine is the only thing audible between the three of them for a minute, causing him to look up again.
Wade and Peter are looking at each other again. There's a soft look on Wade's face and Peter is smiling shyly. Bucky looks between them, finally lifting a brow because .. okay?
''Did you need anything, Pete?'' he asks, the other brunet visibly snaps out of his thoughts.
''Right!'' He takes a step back as if he got caught doing something he shouldn't, heat visibly creeping to his cheekbones. ''Is Tony here? I need to ask him something about Steve's birthday this Saturday.''
Bucky nods his head towards the back. ''He's doing paperwork in the office with Steve. So just send Steve out to me with an excuse if you need a few minutes with Tony alone.'' he proposes.
Peter smiles, eyes flickering to Wade for a moment. ''Great! Thanks. I'll just-'' Peter points his thumb over his shoulder, slowly shuffling away.
''Pete.''
The younger man lifts his eyebrows in question.
''Knock, for your own sake. You know how those two are.''
Peter laughs and nods. ''Yeah. Walking in on them one time was enough.'' he agrees before turning around and walking to the back.
Bucky shakes his head. He adores Peter and can't help but feel protective over him. He's the youngest in their group by being twenty-seven years old. He's not a child anymore but they all feel a natural pull to protect him.
He works in silence for a while. Bucky follows lines, wipes away ink, repeat. Steve shows up after a few minutes, claiming Bucky needed him for something. He flickers his eyes to the clock on the wall, trying to give Peter as much time as he can.
He asks Steve a couple of bullshit questions about his appointment tomorrow. Luckily Steve doesn't seem to think anything about it, simply leaning against Wade's chair as he chats with them for a while. That's the thing with Steve, he's like a clueless puppy.
Eventually he returns to the office but Bucky takes note of the time and decides ten minutes is enough time for Peter to ask what he needed to know.
He's a quarter in when he looks up to Wade, only to find him pale and with closed eyes. Bucky retrieves the needle, clicking off the machine.
''You okay?'' he asks. People passing out from the pain or exhaustion isn't anything new to him so he doesn't freak out very easily when customers start to feel a bit groggy. It's part of the process. Some people go through a five hour appointment without a hitch, where some customers almost faint during an hour session.
Wade shakes his head without opening his eyes. Bucky saw it coming so he stands up, hands hovering over Wade's shoulders in case he falls sideways. Wade usually holds himself really well but there are days he struggles. Bucky doesn't mind, it comes with the job.
''Just dizzy or are you going to pass out on me?'' he asks.
Wade huffs out a weak laugh but his mouth doesn't join in. ''Dizzy.'' he answers, taking a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth.
Bucky wait until Wade feels steady enough to open his eyes again. He hands him a can of coke, warning him to take slow sips.
Suddenly a hand appears in Bucky's view, holding a sugary pastry. Peter smiles a tad too shy when Bucky and Wade look at him.
''To get your sugar up again.'' he explains, waiting patiently until Wade lifts his own trembling hand to take it from him. Peter avoids Bucky's eyes but he can't hide the pink colour dusting his cheekbones. Wade quietly thanks him before taking a small bite, obviously concentrating on not toppling over.
Peter nods. ''I have to get back, Sam is probably waiting.'' He dares a look at Bucky who is still looking at him. ''I'll see you Saturday, Bucky.''
He hums before watching him leave, almost tripping over the doorstep on his way out.
He lets Wade eat and drink in peace, making sure he starts feeling better instead of worse. After a while the colour returns to Wade's face and he doesn't look like he's a second away from puking. Bucky deems it good enough to tease him a little. At least he wants to, but Wade immediately cuts him off when he sees his face.
''Stop.'' he mumbles, nibbling on the last piece of pastry.
Bucky huffs out a laugh. ''I didn't say anything.''
''Your face does the talking for you.''
''You know, the other Wilson always says the same thing. Except I don't try to conceal my disgust towards him when my face betrays it.''
Wade snorts and shakes his head. Bucky grants him another few minutes before continuing his tattoo since the other man seems fine now he has some sugar inside his system. Bucky works in silence for a while before speaking up again.
''What are you doing Saturday night?''