For the Love of the Game

A chorus of agreements bounced off the concrete walls, and the door was swung open to reveal the team lounging around on wooden benches and carpeted floors. You made your way over to Bucky—trying to get interaction out of the way—but also attempting to remember the niceties you had gone over in your head during the car ride. Nat had said he wasn’t so bad.

“Hey! My good luck charm,” Bucky called out, watching you stalk over with his glove in your outstretched hand, “And she brought my glove! Been lookin’ for that thing everywhere. Thanks, doll.”

“Don’t mention it,” you gritted out, relaxing as you remembered your intentions. “You, uh, dropped it last night in the library.” You sent him a small smile for good measure.

“You two hung out?” Sam asked, perplexed.

Bucky grinned widely and threw his arm around you, the rough material of his jersey scratching at your neck. “‘Course we hung out, Wilson. I’m always tryna spend time with my best girl over here.”

“You told me you were gonna try and get Steph to let you into her dorm last night. What happened to that plan?” And just like that, you were tossing his arm off of you.

“Classy, Barnes,” you chided, pushing his glove into his hand.

“What—Oh, come on, Y/N, it was a joke! I wasn’t gonna go to her dorm. We all talk like that on the way home from games.”

“That’s a stupid joke.”

“I know, I know. I just—wait.” You spun on your heel, making your way over to Nat in the corner of the room. “Hang on. I’m sorry, it was a dumb joke. Won’t make one like it again, scouts honor.”

You glanced at his hand over his heart and raised your brow. “Were you even a boy scout?”

“Do ya have to be?” Your sigh was deep and tired as you continued your trek away from him. He rushed to grab your arm. “Okay—wasn’t a boy scout—just hang on a sec. Let me walk you to the stands, yeah? You know they’ll kick you out if one of us isn’t with you.”

“Steve’ll be with me.”

He glanced over your shoulder. “Steve already left, doll.”

You spun around, searching for your best friend you had seen moments ago, only to find that Bucky was telling the truth. They never left without you; without a ticket or a player escorting you, the stadium had very strict guidelines to remove you from the premises.

“Well that was rude,” you grumbled.

“No big deal. Come on, where’s your jacket? I’ll take ya.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“It’s forty degrees outside, what do you mean you didn’t bring one?”

“God, why is everyone so worried about that?” You threw your hands up and nudged the door open with your shoulder. “It’s fine, James, let’s just go.”

He paused to take in the goosebumps that littered your arms when the cool breeze filtered through the door, but left it alone. He was just happy that you were talking to him for longer than a minute; bringing up your bad decisions was a surefire way to receive the silent treatment.

He walked with you down the covered halls of the stadium, taking a risk and allowing his shoulder to brush against yours. When you didn’t flinch away, he decided to push his luck a little further.

“So, how’d studying go last night?” His tone was casual, but his fingers picked at the seams of his pants as he spoke.

“Fine. How’d Stephanie go?”

“Oh come on, doll, I told you that was just a joke.”

“You didn’t seem to be joking when your tongue was down her throat in my study room.”

“Okay, I deserved that one,” he sighed. His knuckles brushed your forearm as he walked. “But that was just a one time thing. I didn’t even want to meet up with her, but the girl wouldn’t stop texting me.”

“Why are you even telling me this?”

Your question caught him off guard. “What?”

“Well it’s not like it matters what I think. You’ve been doing whatever you want since freshman year, so I don’t know why you’re trying to make a case for yourself now.”

“Hey look,” he stopped you, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I know I’ve been kinda a jerk since you met me.” You scoffed. “Okay, a big jerk since you met me. But I’m tryna be a better guy. Someone you’d want to be friends with, you know? I’m not sure if that’ll make you not hate me anymore, but I figure it’s worth a shot.”

You pursed your lips as his gaze flitted over your face. It didn’t make sense to you why he would be trying harder now; unless he had some life altering summer that changed his perspective on the world, Bucky didn’t seem to have a motive here.

“Why now?”

“Call it jealousy.” His mouth turned up in a half smile. “You’ve been hangin’ out with all the other guys for years and they never shut up about you. Want to see what I’ve been missin’.”

He carefully followed your eyes as you narrowed them and tilted your head to the side. “This isn’t some conquest thing, is it? Because I’m not interested in being another notch in your belt.”

“No!” He shook your shoulders, startling you. “God no, doll. I meant what I said. I’m tryna be done with all that. It gets old after a while, all the partying and the girls.”

Is this why Natasha had tried to convince you he was a good guy? Had Bucky been going around spouting this to all of his friends? You tried to wrap your mind around his reasoning and could see where he was coming from. It probably would be taxing to keep up the persona he had maintained for the past few years.

“It gets old?” you asked, words slow.

“Very old. I just wanna hang out with my friends and play baseball. Hopefully you’d want to stick around for that.”

You paused, running your tongue over your teeth before allowing your brain to catch up with your words. “You better not make me regret this, James.”

He beamed at you, rattling your frame with his hands once again. “Not a chance, doll. And I think you gotta call me Bucky now. Those are just the rules.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Right, right, of course. My bad.” He guided you out of the hall, a steady hand placed on the small of your back. You allowed it; you were… friends after all.

When you spotted Natasha in the stands—her usual tub of popcorn saving your seat, compliments of Steve—you shook his hand off of you. To say he was disappointed was an understatement. That had been one of the only instances you let him touch you on purpose, not counting the time he had to pull you out of the pitcher's mound when your foot got stuck. He still wasn’t sure how you’d managed that.

“Nat!” you yelled, waving your hand in the air. She grinned when she saw the two of you together, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. You rolled your eyes, turning back to Bucky and patting him on the chest. “Thanks for the escort.”

He watched as you ran up the steps and stole some popcorn before sitting down. You were talking animatedly, laughing and shaking your head at something your friend had said, and Bucky couldn’t help but wish that you were talking about him. After all these months of radio silence, to be able to bask in your presence was something straight out of a movie. His feelings for you had crept up on him unexpectedly, but they were welcomed, and he was going to do everything he could to act on them.

You caught him staring, his hands in his pockets and his head turned up as he leaned against the railing of the stadium. You shot him a look of puzzlement, which seemed to snap him out of his daze and had him booking it down the steps to the dugout. When you turned back to Nat, she was already giving you a knowing look.

“That was interesting, wasn’t it?” she laughed.

“What are you getting at, Nat?”

“Oh nothing. I was just… observing.”

You blinked at her before turning back to the field. “Do you think you were born this cryptic, or is it something you’ve learned over time?”

Her reply was cut off by the screaming of the crowd and the American flag being hoisted into the middle of the outfield—the start of each game was always the same. You both stood for the national anthem and cheered as all of the players were introduced onto the field. This was all such a routine for the two of you; the second Natasha and Steve started dating, America’s favorite pastime became your usual weekend plans.

You settled back into your seat and continued stealing your best friend’s popcorn as the teams set up. It looked like NYU was up to bat first, meaning the guys were just a few feet away in the dugout. You could hear them shouting about nonsense and knocking things over from a distance. You sometimes couldn’t believe they were who you spent your time with.

“Hey.” Natasha nudged you in the side, nodding her head at something behind you.

Bucky was running up the stairs again, a nervous smile gracing his face. “I, uh, gotta run out in a sec but here ya go, doll.” His team jacket was shoved in your lap, the nylon rustling together. “Figured you’d need that. You can give it back when we go out for drinks.”

“Uh, thank you?” you stuttered. He was already halfway back on the field.

“Not a problem, doll. Wish me luck.” He didn’t really need it; they hadn’t lost a game since your incoming class joined the team.

You heard Nat hum from beside you, grabbing her popcorn back from your lap. “So much to observe tonight.”

You rolled your eyes once again, slipping on the jacket that smelled a lot like you had pictured it would freshman year. Because this is what you had wanted, wasn’t it? Three years ago you would have been overjoyed at your achievement to not only be friends with Bucky, but to be wearing his jacket at his game. The way he had guided you to the stands with his warm hand on your back would have been the topic of all of your conversations for days, and Natasha would have had to throw a pillow at you to shut you up.

And you hated to admit it, but there was a small part of you—so small you almost missed it—that still felt that way.

You were almost positive that it was impossible to fully kick a crush on Bucky Barnes, but you had tried your hardest over the years. The way his jacket wrapped you up and hid you from the bite of the November wind was undoing all of your progress, and you weren’t sure you were ready for that to happen.

~~

“That ref was blind! I got to the base before that guy, no question!” Tony yelled from across the table, beer sloshing over the rim of his glass.

“Give it a rest, Ton, we beat ‘em anyway,” Steve replied, arm wrapped around his girlfriend.

It had been a fairly quick game, all things considered. It had started to rain during the third inning, making you extremely grateful for Bucky’s jacket, but also extremely damp. The team managed to pull through even with the weather, and celebratory drinks were in order—as always.

“I was still robbed,” the first man muttered.

“We’ve all been there, man. Just be glad I was there to tie up all the bases afterward,” Pietro consoled, patting Tony on the shoulder.

Your food arrived then, pizza sliding onto the empty plate in front of you; it was one of the only foods at the rundown sports bar that you could stomach over the years. Bucky was sitting beside you, a feat that had the whole team sending you side eyes and furrowed brows, but you didn’t mind too much. He grabbed a pepperoni off your slice.

“Excuse me,” you exclaimed, “I don’t think being friends means you get to take my food whenever you feel like it, Barnes.”

“Still with the last name? You wound me, doll.” He hit his chest dramatically. “When you got my jacket on like that, I think you gotta call me Bucky.”

“I could take it off.”

“Ah no, you’ll be freezin’ then; your hair’s still all wet from earlier. Guess I can make an exception this time, but only ‘cause you can’t be sick for our test this week. I’ll have no one to steal the answers off of.”

You scoffed and bit into your food, listening in on the many conversations bouncing around the table. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you a few times throughout the night. Part of you thought it was incidental, but another part of you couldn’t help but notice Nat’s smirk every time you felt his body turn towards you; that girl knew something you didn’t, and it was getting on your nerves.

“We could always have Y/N drive.” The sound of your name pulled you to attention. “Her car has lots of room.”

“Sorry, where am I taking you guys?” you asked, glancing around the table.

“The docks next Friday. Strange is throwing a party since his parents own the land. They’re outta town for the week.” Sam answered.

“Oh great, I get to be the designated driver for four monster baseball players. You know the last time you guys had me do that, Thor fell directly on top of me. I’m pretty sure the dent is still in my car.”

“I swear, Y/N, my father fixed the dent in your vehicle. I would not leave you in distress.” Thor’s voice boomed around the room.

“I was just joking, Thor, it’s okay,” you laughed, “Seriously though, you guys all get hammered and I’m left chasing after you like a bunch of toddlers. That’s no fun.”

“I mean, I could always stay sober for the night. We could wrangle ‘em together,” Bucky’s voice was soft beside you.

You sent him a surprised look. “I haven’t seen you sober at a party since I met you, James. You’re really going to commit to that?”

“I told ya, doll, I’m not the same Bucky anymore. I’m a changed man, ready to take on NYU’s nightlife without a drop of alcohol.”

“It’s much less fun that way, I hope you know that.”

“Nah, not with you there.” He slung his arm over the back of your chair and you were blushing. Bucky hadn’t made you blush since you were that nervous, fidgety girl in freshman bio. God, what was going on with you.

“So you up for it, Y/N? We’ll take you to breakfast in the morning.” Sam sent you a wink.

“Nat, where are you going to be?” you directed over to the redhead.

“We’re spending next weekend with Steve’s parents in Brooklyn. Sorry, Y/N. But I’m sure Wanda will be there.”

“Yeah, she’ll probably be feeling better by then. She had a bad cold this morning,” Pietro clarified.

“Okay, so I’ll have one person.”

“Two, actually.” Bucky brushed his hand across your shoulder as he spoke. He knew he was pushing it, but you were sitting so close to him and talking to him and making plans with him and he felt like he was going to lose it.

“Okay, two people then.” Yeah, he was an absolute goner.

“Awesome, sounds like we’re in business,” Tony smacked his hand down on the table, “Four will fit in Y/N’s car and then we can shove the rest in Pepper’s. She’s going to hate me, but she’ll get over it. Eventually.”

You tuned out the rest of their planning, your role already set in stone. You focused your attention elsewhere—mostly on the hand that kept brushing the top of your shoulder every time Bucky laughed. He was so close to you; he smelled like the grass from the field and the rubber from his cleats and something else you couldn't quite place—something you could find if you stuck your nose into the jacket hanging off your frame. But you had enough pride to refrain from doing that.

Maybe this friendship was a bad idea, because the way your heart kept skipping a beat every time he laughed so close to your ear was sending you into dangerous territory. It was sending you into an ocean of feelings you distinctly remembered shoving into a box—a very big, very sealed box. You had sat next to every single member of the team in this exact chair and felt fine, but today, you felt like you were struggling to keep your head above water.

“Time to head out?” Bucky’s head was tilted down as he spoke to you, arm pressing into your back to get your attention.

You shook your thoughts away, noticing the team all standing from their seats. “Oh, yeah sounds good.” You sounded far away.

“Alright, come on, doll. Stevie and I are gonna walk you guys back.”

“You don’t have to do that, Steve is very large. People don’t come up to us.”

He laughed a full laugh, head turning up to the ceiling. “I’m aware Steve is large, but friends walk each other home.”

“Right, because we’re friends,” you remarked.

His eyes shone as he looked down at you. “Yeah, doll, we’re friends.”

~~

The walk home was a little awkward. Steve and Natasha stayed a few paces ahead, arms thrown around each other with quiet words filling their air. You and Bucky walked in a gentle silence, no touching involved, and an awkward feeling gnawing at your stomach. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and your hands were fidgeting in Bucky’s jacket.

“So, uh—” he began “—they always like this?” He motioned to the couple in front of you.

You breathed out a laugh. “Pretty much. I’m the designated third wheel. It’s not too much fun.”

“You never bring anyone along? No… double dates?” He looked to the sky, feigning indifference.

“Occasionally, but none really stuck. I guess I’m sorta like you in that department. Except a lot less in quantity.”

“Guess so.” 

The awkwardness was back. You took a few steps in silence.

“Hey I was thinking—”

“We should—”

You both spoke at the same time, sending a heat up to your ears. You reached up and messed with your hair to dispel some of your tension. “Uh, sorry. You go ahead.”

“I was just gonna say—” His bat clinked in his bag with each step. “—If we’re gonna be friends, it might be good to know stuff about each other. You know, like favorite colors and stuff.”

“You want to know my favorite color?”

It was his turn to blush. “I mean, if you wanna tell me, I’d like to know everything about you.”

Your lips parted as you looked up at him. This blushing, stuttering man whose hair was flopping into his eyes and uniform was out of place was certainly not the Bucky you thought you knew. That Bucky would never have asked for your favorite color; he wouldn’t have even been walking you home.

“My favorite color is green.” The tired smile he gave you made you want to tell him everything about yourself—as long as he kept looking at you like that while you did so.

“I like red.” And thus started the back and forth.

Bucky would tell you how old he was when he learned how to ride a bike, you would tell him your least favorite vegetable. The conversation went on for the duration of your walk home, the awkwardness from earlier never returning. You found yourself a little disappointed when the resident hall came into view, Bucky stopping in front of you to say goodbye,

“Thanks for givin’ me a shot, doll. I’ll be a great friend, I swear it.” His words were light, like a weight had been lifted off of him.

“I’m holding you to that, I hope you know.”

“I gave you a scout's honor, remember?”

“Yes. I also distinctly remember that you weren’t a boy scout.”

He gave you a crooked smile, shaking his head. “Can I give you a different honor then? What about if it’s girl scouts? My sister was one and I went to the meetings sometimes.”

“Goodnight, James.” He was still laughing as you walked into the building.

Nat greeted you back in your room, a smug smile on her face as she sang out, “I told you so.”

You glared at her. “Shut up. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But you knew exactly what she was talking about, because outside was Bucky Barnes—your new friend that made your heart beat too fast and lent you his jacket that incidentally still warmed your skin. What you didn’t know was that he had definitely planned that; he needed a reason to come see you again, didn’t he?