a normal, adult friendship

One month after Bucky moves into Stark Tower

“What about Shelby?” Natasha asks. They’re wrapping up their mission, walking through a pile of debris from the latest defeat of a lab-experiment-gone-wrong, and it takes Steve almost a whole minute to figure out what she’s even talking about. 

“Shelby? Isn’t she one of Tony’s engineers?” Natasha nods at the wreckage around them. 

“Yeah. The were-cats reminded me of her.” Steve shudders.

“I’m not sure I want to get anywhere near that,” he says, trying to get Natasha to drop the subject without actually talking about it. “Those things were scary.”

“Aw, she’s nice,” Natasha protests. “And smart. And--”

“Maria!” Steve shouts, spotting their favorite handler from across the field. He heads off in her direction, trusting that Natasha will follow him. Maria’s surrounded by a squadron of Stark’s droids and new recruits, clearly busy directing them for the clean up effort. She’s been keeping busy in the wake of SHIELD’s destruction; while Tony technically hired her as the head of his world security division, her real job these days is wrangling the Avengers, and cleaning up after them. It’s not so different from her old job.

Steve hasn’t seen her in a while. He’s been on a leave of absence for the last month or so, helping Bucky get more or less settled into life as a free man living in Stark Tower. Most of the time, Steve thinks, fighting bad guys would have been easier. 

“Hi, Cap,” Maria greets, turning away from the bots. Something changes in her face as her gaze flickers to a point somewhere over Steve’s shoulder. “Hi, Natasha.”

“Maria. What do you think of Shelby Smith?” Maria blinks. Then her lips pull into a sort of sour smirk. 

“The engineer? She’s really cute,” Maria offers. “Lots of tattoos. Why?”

“I’m still trying to set Steve up,” Natasha explains, like this is a conversation they’ve had before. “He’s still ruffled from the thing with Shanon Carter, and he’s busy with Barnes most of the time, but I’m trying to remind him that love’s still out there. Back me up here.”

“When was the last time you went on a date, Tasha?” Sam’s voice crackles through their comms. 

“Not the point, Wilson,” Natasha replies, instantly. If she were any less disciplined, Steve would call it a snap. 

“Where are you, Sam?” Maria intervenes. Steve sends her a grateful look, and she sends a long suffering one right back.

“Med tent,” Sam admits, sheepishly. “Can one of you come get me? I’m totally fine, but they won’t let me leave unless I’m in a chair even though I can fly.” Steve’s sure those last words are for the benefit of whatever medic is around, but he can’t help but laugh. Natasha smirks too, patting Steve on the arm. 

“I’m coming, birdbrain,” she says, sauntering off. “Hill! Try to convince Rogers for me, will ya?” 

“Please don’t,” Steve says instantly. “I’m not--”

“Have no fear,” Maria replies, still sounding amused. “This is one project of Nat’s I don’t need to get involved with. How have you been, Cap? More to the point, how’s Barnes?” Steve blushes and sighs at the same time. Oh boy. That’s a tough question. Maria must see the look on his face, because she pats him on the arm, right over where Natasha did, and gives him a little smile. “It’s complicated, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Steve says, with a sigh. 

“Why don’t you come to mine for dinner and some wine?” Maria proposes. “You can catch me up. It’s been a while.” Steve tries not to show his surprise. He’s always liked Maria, but he can’t say they’re close. He can’t remember if they’ve ever (even once) spent time alone together. Besides, he doesn’t like leaving Bucky in the apartment alone, even if he rarely sees him when he is there. Still, Hill’s nice, and relatively normal, and it would be nice to have someone besides his therapist to talk to… “Please don’t be weirded out,” Maria says, reacting to his long silence. “I’m just trying to cultivate some normal, adult friends in my post-SHIELD life.” 

Oh. Normal, adult friends. Steve could use one of those. 

“That sounds really nice,” he says. “Can I bring anything?” 

Bucky intercepts him the moment he steps off the elevator and onto their shared floor, so quickly that Steve has the mental image that he was waiting by the doors, silent and in the shadows. The thought makes his heart do something stupid in his chest. 

“Hey, Buck,” he greets. Bucky doesn’t say a word, but he places one hand on Steve’s chest, keeping him in place, and scans him with his eyes, clearly checking for injuries. “I’m fine,” he says, but the part of Bucky that’s still Bucky must remember how often he used to lie about stuff like this, because Bucky just ignores him. He’s spun around by a hand on his shoulder, and he tries not to squirm as Bucky’s steady gaze sweeps over his back. 

Bucky turns him around once more, starting deep into his eyes like he’s searching for something Steve’s body has kept hidden. Finally he’s satisfied, stepping back as a sheepish, embarrassed look replaces his steady, intense one. 

“Good mission?” Bucky asks, tucking his hands in his pockets and looking down at the floor. It’s progress. Bucky used to come check him over like this every time he returned to this apartment and then run away without saying a word. Like with everything, Bucky’s recovery comes in baby steps. Still, it makes Steve happy. 

“It was fine,” he says, deciding to omit the part where he was almost bitten by a were-cat, as well as the part where Nat tried to set him up (again). “I ran into Maria Hill--do you remember her?” He regrets asking almost as soon as the words have left his mouth; what Bucky does and does not remember is the thing he thinks about most, and the thing they discuss the least. 

“I remember.”

“Uh. Good. She and I were gonna have dinner together, tonight. If that’s okay with you.” Bucky’s face doesn’t change, but something in Steve tells him that Bucky’s displeased. 

“Fine,” Bucky says. “I will get the robot man to order me pizza.” He means JARVIS, Steve is pretty sure.

“Sounds good.” He fights hard to keep his tone encouraging but not condescending, supportive but not judgy. Bucky just stares back. It’s so awkward between them, now. It never used to be awkward before. “I’m gonna go shower,” he says, after a moment or more of silence. He takes a step backwards, then another. When Bucky doesn’t reply, or even so much as move, he gives up, turning around so Bucky can’t see the blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. 

“Steve--” Bucky pipes up. Steve whirls around. Maybe Bucky wants to tell him more of what he remembers, maybe Bucky’s going to ask him not to go after all, maybe Bucky-- “Tell your friends to stay off our floor tonight. Please. I don’t like it when they come around when you’re not here.” Steve’s heart breaks, for more reasons than one. 

“Will do, Buck,” he whispers. “No problem.” 

On his way over to Maria’s, Steve reflects on the whole idea of normal, adult friendships. Now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure he’s never once had one. 

His relationship with Bucky definitely doesn’t make the cut. He was Steve’s first friend, his best friend, and, for much of Steve’s life, his only friend; more to the point, he also was the first love of Steve’s life. Steve’s sure normal friends don’t feel the way he did (the way he still does) about Bucky: the all consuming need to be close, the absolute certainty that he would gladly give his life for Bucky at any moment.  His relationship with Bucky these days couldn’t very well be described as “normal” either, not when Steve’s an Avenger and Bucky’s a recovering, brainwashed assassin; not when they’re both supersoldiers living “out of time,” sharing a floor in the skyscraper home of a billionaire genius; not when Bucky still sneaks into his bed most nights but rarely talks to him during the day. “Normal” is about the farthest word from it. 

But it’s not just his relationship with Bucky that doesn’t qualify as a normal, adult friendship. His relationships with the other Howling Commandos, with Peggy, with Howard; all marred by the war, and then the passage of time. His relationships with most of the other Avengers--Tony, Bruce, Thor, Clint, Rhodey--are far too adversarial to qualify. Fury is...a whole other can of worms. And Sharon...the less said about that relationship, the better. 

Which leaves Natasha and Sam, who are, undoubtedly, the best friends Steve has made in this century. They’re both incredible, and he would trust them both with his life (and with Bucky’s, which is really saying something), but they’re also both...super weird. Like Nat, who’s always trying to set him up but never wants to talk about feelings, and likes to break into his apartment uninvited (at least, she used to, until Bucky moved in). Or Sam, who only ever wants to talk about feelings, who Steve can’t look at without feeling a little bit guilty. Before him, Sam was a relatively normal guy, finally moving on with his life. Now, he’s been sucked into the crazy Steve calls his life. 

Maria is his best bet. Sure, she worked for SHIELD, and sure, she’s recklessly brave and deadly with a gun. But she has a normal past, a family, hobbies, maybe even a pet. 

She’s kind of his last hope. 

Maria turns out to be kind of awesome to hang out with. 

When he arrives at her building, he finds it to be incredibly normal. Maria’s dressed in sweatpants and a tee-shirt. She’s actually cooked a real dinner for them, and she’s set the table with matching cutlery and everything. 

She’s a good conversationalist, too, recounting her adventures working for Stark with just the right amount of making fun of Tony that leaves Steve with tears in his eyes. She seems to understand that they’re not nearly close enough to talk about his whole situation with Bucky, so instead she asks about his favorite movies of the 21st century, and lets him rant about Star Wars for a while. 

Then her phone dings with an alert of some sort, and the night goes from good to great:

“Oh fuck,” Maria says. “The Dodgers are on! Steve, you mind if we retire to the living room? If they win this game, they make it to--”

“The World Series!” Steve remembers. “Maria, you like the Dodgers?”

“Always have, Cap,” she says, sounding amused. “You’re a Dodgers fan?”

“They used to be Brooklyn boys,” he tells her, trying not to sound bitter. “Bucky and I used to sneak into games all the time. We loved ‘em.” 

“Then grab your plate, Rogers!” Maria encourages, picking up her own. “It’s still the top of the 2nd.”

“You can call me Steve, you know,” he tells her. “We’re friends now.”

He and Maria spend the rest of the night in front of her TV (which is a normal size, unlike literally all of Stark’s), drinking beer and talking over the game. 

“Let’s do this again,” Maria suggests. “We could make it a weekly thing, if you want.”

The Dodgers win, and, as Steve makes his way home, he kind of feels like he has too. 

Bucky repeats the whole returning home routine when he gets back, and he frowns when Steve yawns. 

“Beer,” he identifies, leaning further in to double-check. He’s so close. Steve wants to lean in, to close the gap between their lips. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. Bucky shakes his head. He’s close enough that a strand of his hair brushes Steve’s cheek. He wants to feel it again; he wants to twist Bucky’s hair around his fingers and pet until Bucky purrs. He may be, he notes, a little drunk. Speaking of: “You coming to bed?” The words just slip out, unbidden. He and Bucky don’t actually talk about how often Bucky sleeps in Steve’s bed; it’s the only time Steve can really touch Bucky, can hold him close. It’s not everything he wants with Bucky, but it’s what Bucky will allow him, and he’s grateful for it. he hopes he hasn’t blown it by opening his big mouth. 

“Later,” Bucky mutters, pulling away. He disappears into the shadows, but Steve still smiles. It’s progress. 

Three months after Bucky moves into Stark Tower

“What about Claire? Pepper’s new assistant.” Natasha asks. They’re in the middle of the street, finishing off a HYDRA cell. Natasha, as always, is multitasking. 

“I’m pretty sure she’s a lesbian,” Maria says over the comm. She’s in a quinjet up above them, splitting her time between directing the other agents to maintain the perimeter, preparing for clean-up duty, and participating in this ridiculous conversation.  

“No way,” Natasha says. “Bi for sure. I caught her ogling Sam’s ass the other day.”

“What?” Sam demands, punching out a HYDRA agent. “Then why don’t you try to set her up with me?”

“Please,” Natasha says. “You don’t need the help, Wilson.”

“I haven't had a date in two weeks!” Sam protests. 

“I don’t need the help,” Steve protests. “Maria, back me up here.”

“Sorry, pal,” Maria says. “You’ve had a dry 40 years. It’s my duty as your bro to try to help get you laid.” Steve sighs deeply. 

“Thank you, Maria,” Natasha says. “This is why you’re my favorite.” The line goes silent, but when Maria’s jet touches down and she walks out, she’s smiling hugely. 

“Hey, Cap,” she calls. “Still on for dinner?” 

In the last few months, Maria has self-fulfilled her prophecy and become Steve’s best normal, adult friend. They’ve started spending more and more time together. Steve relishes his time with Maria. They are, as she puts it, bros. When they hang out, there’s no fighting or weaponry or shop talk, no quippy teasing, no complicated past. There’s just Steve, and Maria, and whatever game is on that they can talk over. It’s nice. 

The problem is this: the more time they spend together, the closer they get; the closer they get, the more Steve wants to ruin their beautiful, normal friendship by talking about his stupid emotions. 

“What about Rachel?” Natasha asks as they spar. Sam and Maria are on the outside of the ring, eating popcorn. “What about Lucy? What about Amanda?”

“Nat,” Steve whines, hitting a little harder than he intended. “Really. You can stop.” 

“I’m just worried you’re lonely,” Nat says. “Or horny.” The idea that one of his good friends is thinking about his sex life is so offputting to Steve that he freezes. Nat sweeps his leg, knocking him off balance, and follows through as he falls, pinning him down to the mat. 

Steve lies back, winded from the fall. How will he explain this to Bucky later? Upside-down, he sees Sam slip some money to Maria. 

“Alright,” Maria says as Steve walks in the door. “Spill.”

“Spill?” Steve asks, trying to remember what that word means these days. “Huh?”

“It means tell me what’s wrong,” Maria explains patiently. “I thought your thing with Natasha was a bit, but she really is trying to set you up, and you really don’t like it. Why?” Steve shrugs, settling down in his favorite spot on Maria’s couch. She passes him a bottle of wine, and the biggest wine glass she owns. “Come on, Steve. We’re bros, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.”

“And you trust me?”

“Course.” Maria’s face is soft and open.

“So why don’t you want to tell me?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Steve explains, miserably. “It’s that it’s a really big deal, and if I tell you you’ll become my confidant, and then we aren’t normal friends anymore, and that’s the whole point.” Maria’s face twitches. 

“Steve,” she says, slowly, like he’s a child. “Normal friends tell each other secrets. That’s a very normal friend thing.” 

“Okay,” he says. “Okay okay okay.” He takes a deep breath. Maria’s brow furrows. “I don’t like it when Nat tries to set me up because I’m already interested in someone...and it’s really complicated with him.” He sees Maria absorb the word ‘him’, and then the rest of the sentence. 

“Bucky,” she says, and he sees the realization sweep over her face. “That...that makes a lot of sense, actually.” Steve lets out a shaky breath. 

“I’ve never admitted that before.”

“Well thank you for trusting me with that.” She pats his shoulder, and the contact is normal and reassuring. “Does he know?” Steve shrugs. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “It really is complicated. We used to be together. Really together. We used to talk about how we wished we could get married. But with everything he’s forgotten...I have no idea how much of our relationship he remembers, if any.”

“Oh, Steve.” Maria’s slight arms come to wrap around his shoulders. “I’m sorry. That sounds really hard.” Steve feels tears welling up in his eyes, and he pins his eyes on the ceiling, willing them away. 

“Thanks,” he says, feeling choked up. 

“Can I tell you something now?” Maria asks delicately. He nods, not trusting himself to speak. “I’m gay, too.” Steve knows it’s not the response she’s expecting, but he sweeps her into a giant hug. “Ouch.” Maria mumbles. 

Steve’s never felt so adult or normal in his life. 

When Steve gets home, he’s got half a mind to bring up the issue with Bucky. 

“Say,” he imagines himself saying. “You know all kinds of people are gay these days?” Or “Hey, remember when we used to make out all the time?”

He steps out of the elevator, expecting Bucky to be waiting for him. But no one’s there. For a moment, he’s overwhelmed with terror. Then he remembers where he is. 

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Where’s Bucky?” He wishes his own voice didn’t sound so tight. 

“In your bedroom, Captain.” Steve relaxes. 

“Thanks, JARVIS.”

“No problem, sir.” 

Steve gets to his bedroom in record time. Bucky’s already asleep in his bed. Steve doesn’t bother changing into his pajamas, just kicks off his shoes and crawls into bed with Bucky, wrapping his arm tightly across the other man’s waist. 

He can talk to Bucky about this some other time. This is progress enough. 

Four months after Bucky moves into Stark Tower

“What about Becky?” Natasha asks. She and Steve are racing over rooftops, side-by-side. Her red hair glints in the sunlight. “You know, from the Starbucks in the lobby? She’s cute.” 

“Romanov,” Maria’s voice comes in through their comms. “Focus, please.” Steve smiles, pressing his hand to his ear. 

“Thank you, Maria,” he says, and he doesn’t even have to see her face to picture her fondly exasperated smile.

“You too, Steve,” she says. “On your six!” Steve turns just in time to throw his shield, knocking the head clean off one of the rouge Stark bots. 

The fight doesn’t take long after that, and by the time Sam has flown Steve to the rendezvous point, Stark is already there, apologizing for the glitch in his software. Natasha is there too, berating him as for why his robots even have an “evil mode.” 

“It seemed cool!” Stark protests. 

Maria is there too, and Steve heads in her direction. She and Sam exchange pleasantries, and then she and Steve launch into their secret handshake. It started as a way to make fun of Clint, who always wants to have his own handshake with everyone, but now they do it whenever they see each other. Natasha makes fun of them for it, but Steve couldn’t give a shit. 

“You look nervous,” Maria says, perceptively, peering into his eyes. It reminds Steve so much of Bucky that he nearly takes a step back.

“I have something to ask you,” he admits. “About dinner.” Maria frowns. 

“It’s your turn to bring the booze,” she reminds him. “And it’s not my fault you need two six-packs to get tipsy.” 

“It’s not about that,” he says. “I was...I was wondering if you want to come over to my place this week. I want you and Bucky to meet.” Maria’s eyebrows fly up, but before she can respond, Sam’s punching Steve on the arm.

“I never get to come over for dinner!” He protests. “And me and Barnes are tight!” 

“Bucky’s still mad you’re a Yankee fan,” Steve reminds him. “You’re banned until you change team affiliation.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sam pouts, though he has a twinkle in his eye that lets Steve know he’s joking. 

“Is that why I’m never invited over for dinner?” Tony asks, butting into their conversation, done being chewed out by Nat. “Cause I don’t really care about sports.”

“No,” Natasha answers for him. She’s the only one Bucky does actually like to have over, as long as Steve’s also there. “You’re not invited over because Bucky doesn’t really like you.” 

“Oh,” Tony says. “Yeah, that checks out.” Maria rolls her eyes at all of them, returning her focus to Steve. 

“Bucky’s okay with it?” She double checks. Steve thinks back to the two weeks of wheedling conversations he’s had with Bucky, of the line that finally broke Bucky’s resolve: “She helps keep me safe.” 

“He’s looking forward to it,” he lies. “See you soon, Hill.” 

“See you,” Maria echoes. “Nat, need a ride?”

“I’ll go with Sam,” Natasha decides, elbowing Sam before he can protest. “You two have fun at dinner.” 

For the first ten minutes, Bucky and Maria just stare at each other across the dining table, as Steve’s homemade pizza cools between them. Steve’s sitting at the only seat between them, eating and keeping his head down. 

“So,” Bucky says, eventually. “You work for Stark.”

“I work for Nick Fury,” Maria says, instantly. “I just let Stark pay my tab.” The sentiment makes Bucky smirk. 

“You’re Steve’s boss, right?”

“Technically,” Maria agrees, shooting Steve a grin. “Not that he ever does a damn thing I tell him too.”

“He’s a punk,” Bucky agrees. Steve takes another bite of pizza. Bucky’s word choice is familiar, but that could be coincidence, or something he’s seen himself say in one of the many videos from the Smithsonian. “One time, when we were ten, Stevie and I got in trouble with our teacher, Ms. Brown, and she assigned us this essay on decorum...Steve refused to write it, and we both got a month of detention.” Maria laughs, but Steve’s heart just constricts. Bucky called him Stevie. Plus... 

“You remember that?” Bucky doesn’t make eye contact. 

“I remember lots of stuff, Rogers.”

“Like what?” Steve begs. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky looks at Maria, clearly changing the subject. 

“Natalia’s told me about you,” he tells Maria. “I was expecting you to be smaller.” Maria shifts in her seat. 

“Oh yeah? What does she say about me?” Bucky shrugs. 

“Just stuff. Mostly we talk about other things.” 

“Like what? Hair care and handguns?” Bucky cracks a grin. 

“Not far off,” he admits. “And she tells me about all the dumb crap Steve’s been up to since he got thawed out.” A wicked smile lights up Maria’s face. Oh no. 

“Maria, how do you like the pizza?” Steve interjects, trying to change the subject. Both of his dinner companions ignore him. 

“Oh yeah?” Maria asks. “She tell you about the time we fought evil snails?” Steve buries his head in his hands. 

That night, Bucky sneaks into his bed, just like he does every night. They switch off who spoons who, but tonight he seems determined to be the little spoon, wiggling until he’s safe in Steve’s arms. They don’t usually talk while they’re like this, but tonight, Steve can’t resist. 

“What else do you remember?” 

“That’s a pretty big question, Stevie.” Steve tightens his grip, burying his face in the back of Bucky’s neck. “Can you be more specific?”

Do you remember being in love? he wants to ask. Do you remember our first kiss? Do you remember how you used to hold me through asthma attacks, how you’d nurse me through the flu every winter? Do you remember how we used to clean each other up after fights? Do you remember ‘until the end of the line’--do you remember they were as close as we thought we’d get to saying vows?

“Do you remember our apartment?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky tells him. “I remember it was four flights of stairs up, if that’s what you mean, and cold as shit in the winter. I remember you used to hog the blankets.” 

“Yeah,” Steve whispers. He wants to press, to pry, to demand more. He wants to ask if Bucky remembers why they were sharing a bed. But he’s not Sam; he doesn’t know how to talk about these things. “What did you think of Maria?” A long silence from Bucky. 

“She’s cool,” he finally says. “She can come over more. Good night, Steve.”

“Night, Buck.” 

Steve heads over to Maria’s the next morning after his run, stopping to pick them up some coffees on the way. She doesn’t say a word until she’s halfway through her venti cold brew, but when she does, it’s with rare vulnerability.

“I thought dinner last night went pretty well.” It’s got the cadence of a statement, but Steve knows she’s fishing for confirmation. 

“Amazingly well,” he agrees. “Though you didn’t have to tell him that story about Thor and the hamster.” Maria giggles. It’s the happiest, most carefree sound he’s heard in the 21st century. It makes him want to hug her. 

“He’s a good guy,” Maria says, and Steve actually bursts into tears. 

When Steve gets home, he finds Bucky and Natasha on their couch, talking in Russian. Bucky gets up when Steve comes in, performing a shorter version of his usual check under Natasha’s watchful eye. She quirks an eyebrow at Steve, amusement playing across her face. 

“Hi Steve,” she purrs. “How’s Hill?”

“How’d you know that’s where I was?” 

“Your phone,” Bucky and Nat say in unison. 

“My ph--are you tracking me?” 

“Duh,” Bucky retorts, as Natasha snorts. “You gotta problem with that, punk?” Steve thinks he probably should have more of a problem with the idea, but he just doesn’t. He gets it; if Bucky ever left their apartment, Steve would want to know where he was at all times. 

“Nah,” he admits. “Maria’s good. She says hi, Buck. Maybe next time, all four of us can have dinner together.” Both Bucky and Natasha seem to like the idea. Bucky says something in Russian to Nat, which makes her laugh. She says something back, and Bucky rolls his eyes. Steve decides to leave them to it, but then Bucky shoots Natasha a meaningful look, and she nods.

“Come sit, Rogers,” Natasha instructs. Steve does, sitting as close to Bucky as he physically can without being in his lap. Bucky lets him. “Bucky has something to tell you,” Natasha says, pointedly. Bucky says something in Russian; Steve can’t understand it, but he’s pretty sure from the tone that it’s an insult. 

“What’s up, Buck?” Bucky’s looking down at his lap, trying to form the words. Steve sits, prepared to wait. After a moment, he takes Bucky’s hand. Bucky looks down, in surprise, and something loosens in his shoulders. 

“I want to join the team,” he says. It’s soft and hesitant, everything that Bucky isn’t, and Steve feels his heart threaten to burst out of his chest. 

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s talk about this.” 

Five months after Bucky moves into Stark Tower

“What about Helena?” Natasha asks, pointing not so subtly across the party, where one of Bruce’s activist friends is chatting with Thor and Jane. “She’s adorable.”

“Why don’t you go talk to her,” Maria suggests, before Bucky cuts her off. 

“Yo,” Bucky says. “What the fuck?” Steve turns to him, startled, and has to take another moment to readjust to the sight of Bucky in a suit. Bucky insisted on wearing it when Tony insisted he come to the monthly team party. 

“If he’s going to be part of this team, he’s going to party with this team!” He’d said. Steve had tried to make it as clear as possible that he didn’t actually have to come, but Bucky apparently actually wanted to be there. Steve couldn’t help but be proud. It was his first time out of the apartment since Steve had found him and brought him home, and, while he was only a few floors away, Steve was counting it as a big step for him. 

Still, Steve made sure Bucky was as comfortable as possible. They snagged a spot by the elevator, where Bucky could see everything, and waited for people who wanted to talk to them to come over. A few people had filtered by, but by this point in the night it was just Bucky, Steve, Sam, Nat, and Maria. And it was going so well, until Natasha brought up his dating life. 

“Nat likes to try to set Steve up with random girls,” Maria explains, a tight smile on her face. 

“No,” Bucky says, decisively. 

“What do you mean, no?” Sam asks. “It’s totally true. She once tried to set Steve up with this girl with a tongue piercing--”

“No,” Bucky repeats. “No to tongue piercing girl, and no to Helena. Not good enough.” 

“That’s adorable,” Maria deadpans, as Steve blushes red. “Were you always this protective, Barnes?” Nat and Sam both tense up, still accustomed to the days when Bucky’s past was off-limits, but Bucky smiles. 

“Oh yeah,” he says, seriously. “Though there were less girls back when he was all skin and bone. What can I say? People are idiots.” 

“So true,” Maria agrees, with a grin. Bucky blinks at her, something sliding across his face. 

“Who would you say is good enough for Steve?” Sam interjects, a twinkle in his eye. 

“Not you,” Bucky replies, immediately, and everyone else in their little circle bursts into laughter. Steve and Maria fall against each other, and Steve throws his arm around his little friend. Bucky stares, the strange look on his face deepening. “Hey, Tasha. You want to dance?” Steve and Sam gawp, but Natasha just shakes her red hair and accepts Bucky’s offered hand. 

“If you think you can keep up, old man.” They disappear onto the dance floor, which, because it’s a Tony party, is pretty well occupied. Sam looks at Maria and Steve. 

“That was weird, right?”

“That was weird,” Steve says, later. It’s much later in the night. Bucky has disappeared at some point, without saying a word to Steve, and Nat and Sam are both gone too. Even Tony’s gone to bed, leaving only Steve and Maria out on the balcony, finishing off the mini-bar. It seems like a normal friend thing to do; it feels a little bit like a slumber party. 

“What was?”

“Bucky, earlier. When Nat was doing her bit about setting me up.”

“Oh,” Maria says, giggling. “Yeah.” She’s wearing Steve’s jacket, which absolutely dwarfs her, but it’s stopped her from complaining about the cold.  Steve kind of likes it on her; it’s a physical sign of their emotional connection. “I think he was jealous...”

“Do you?” Steve asks, amused. He’s not nearly as drunk as Maria, and he likes this side of her. 

“The more it happens, the more I’m shocked she doesn’t know,” Maria rambles. “But she’s bad at feelings.”

“She’s an international superspy,” Steve reminds her. 

“Not strangers' feelings. But our feelings. She’s too close. It’s like...those paintings. With the dots. The ones that look all weird close up.”

“Impressionism?”

“Sure.” Maria pats his knee. “She’s like impressionism.” Suddenly, a bunch of things click in his mind. 

“You like Natasha!” He nearly shouts. Maria hits him, hard. 

“Keep! Your! Voice! Down!” 

“Sorry, sorry.” He lowers his voice. “That’s cute, Maria. You two would be good together.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m not delusional. I’ve known Nat for nearly a decade,” she says. “If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now. I don’t even think she’s even gone on a date in all that time.”

“I’ve known Buck for 70 years,” Steve points out. “There’s always hope.” 

“Shut up, Cap,” Maria says, rolling her eyes. Then, in a quiet voice, “You really think so?” Steve nods. 

“I really do.” He starts to laugh, and then he can’t stop. 

“What?” Maria practically whines. 

“I never thought we had that much in common,” he tells her. “But now I know we’re both gay Dogers fans in love with aloof Russian assasins.” Maria starts to laugh too. 

“Damn,” she says. “We’re in the same gay boat.” 

Maria practically falls asleep on his shoulders in the elevator, so Steve makes an executive decision and takes her back up to his floor. They’ve got, like, four spare bedrooms anyway. 

Bucky jumps on him when he comes off the elevator, stopping in his tracks when he sees Maria, tucked against Steve’s side, still wearing his jacket. Bucky’s hands twitch by his sides, and Steve feels a little guilty for bringing someone over without running it by Bucky first. Then he feels a rush of anger. This is his apartment, too, and he should be allowed to bring people over if he wants, especially Maria, who’s their friend, and who doesn’t have her own room in the Tower. Besides, it’s not like Bucky runs things by him. 

Bucky clearly wants to give Steve a once-over, but he settles for a gruff, “You okay?”

“I’m all good, Buck. I’m just gonna get Maria to bed.” And then I’ll join you in mine, he continues, mentally, trusting Bucky to fill in the rest.

“Goodnight,” Bucky says, stiffly. 

“Steve,” Maria whispers, as he guides her to a guest-room. “I bet he likes you back.”

“I don’t think so,” Steve replies. “Not anymore.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Maria replies, flopping down onto the bed, curling up under Steve’s jacket like it’s a blanket. Steve pulls an actual blanket over her shoulders, and runs to the kitchen to fetch her a glass of water and some aspirin. When he gets back, she’s already asleep.

That night, no matter how long Steve waits, Bucky doesn’t come to join him in bed.

Now who’s stupid , he taunts Maria unhappily in his mind. 

In the morning, he and Maria go for a walk through Central Park. Maria’s nursing a killer headache. Steve feels absolutely fine. 

“I hate you,” she tells him, stealing his coffee as soon as she’s finished her own. 

“No you don’t,” Steve tells her. “You love me.”

“I do?” Maria’s voice is deadpan, her glare is deadly. 

“Yup,” Steve replies. “You wanna know why?”

“No,” Maria replies, instantly. Steve gives her the finger, and she bats his hand down. “Alright, fine, before one of these kids sees a national hero being a dick.” Steve smiles, just a little smugly. 

“Because we’re normal, adult friends,” Steve tells her. “And I have a plan.”

“Why don’t I like the sound of this?” Maria’s brow is furrowed, and she has her scariest I am in charge face on. Steve is undeterred. He has “issues with authority” and the greatest idea of his life. 

“It could be a total disaster,” he admits. “But trust me.” Maria groans, chugging back some more coffee. 

“I’m too hungover to deal with this shit,” she complains loudly, as if to the city itself. 

Six months after Bucky moves into Stark Tower

“What about...uh...her?” Nat asks, pointing off at a woman across the battlefield tearfully reuniting with her young son. 

“You don’t even know her name,” Maria sighs. Natasha was grazed by a bullet in the fight, but she refuses to go to the med-tent, so Maria is bandaging her wound in the back of the quinjet. Bucky followed Natasha, and Steve followed Bucky. And now they’re all assembled here, and he can put his plan into action. 

“Hey, Nat,” Steve says, casually, propping his elbow up on Sam’s shoulder. “How come you never try to set me up with anyone we actually know?” 

“What do you mean, Rogers?” Natasha seemed genuinely confused. Nice. 

“You know,” he says, faux casual, playing up the boy scout angle. “Why didn’t you ever try to get me to date, say, Maria? Or Bucky?” Natasha laughs, but Steve doesn’t. The smile falls right off Natasha’s face. 

“What?”

“You are dating Maria, aren’t you?” Everyone turns to Bucky in surprise. Steve blinks. This was definitely not part of the plan. 

“What? Buck, no!” He takes a deep breath. It’s now or never… “Bucky, I haven’t dated anyone but you in my life. And I’d never want to.” Bucky’s face goes suddenly, impressively blank. 

“What?” Maria and Natasha demand, almost entirely in unison. 

“We’ll talk about this back home,” Bucky says. “I’m just gonna…” He leaves the jet, running over out of Steve’s line of sight.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Natasha asks.

“Are you kidding me, Rogers?” Maria shouts, getting into Steve’s space. “We are not in the same gay boat at all! At least you have a chance!”

“Wait,” Natasha says. “You’re gay?” Maria rolls her eyes. 

“I have to go be in charge,” she says. “You and I can talk later, Romanov.” 

“Okay.” Nat says, at a loss for words for the first time in all the time Steve’s known her. Maria leaves, patting Steve on the pec as she passes.

“We’ll debrief later, Rogers.” 

She leaves, and Natasha and Steve sit in the back of the quinjet in stunned silence. Sam cheerfully bounds in. 

“What did I miss?” He asks, looking between Steve and Natasha. 

When Steve gets back to the apartment, he’s humming in anxious anticipation for his conversation with Bucky. Still, he’s not expecting Bucky to grab him the moment he steps out of the elevator, or to push him back against the closing doors, hands bracketing Steve’s hips. 

“Wha-Buck!” 

“I thought I was imagining it,” Bucky growls. “I thought it was all in my head. A fantasy.” 

“I don’t know what you remember,” Steve breathes. “But we were together.”

“We were in love,” Bucky states. It’s a fact, from his lips. It’s the greatest thing Steve’s ever heard. He nods, resting his forehead gently against Bucky’s. Steve’s hands come up to cap Bucky’s elbows. “And you’re in love with me still?” Steve could laugh. 

“Desperately,” he admits. 

“I’m a fucking mess,” Bucky says, as if Steve could have somehow missed it. “If you want to try this...it won’t be easy.”

“I know,” he breathes. “I don’t fucking care.” Bucky takes a deep breath. 

Then, frantically, passionately, with 70-years of feelings behind it, they’re kissing. 

If they have incredible, life-affirming sex that night, no one needs to know except Steve and Bucky (and Maria). 

The next morning, Steve wakes up, naked, in Bucky’s arms, to a text from one Maria Hill. 

>Maria Hill: Breakfast? 

>Steve Rogers: Sure. 

>Maria Hill: Cool, I’m in your living room w Starbucks. 

“Buck,” Steve mumbles. He presses a kiss to Bucky’s forehead, then one to each cheek, and, finally, he presses their lips together. “Wake up, love.” Bucky smiles, lifting his arms to pull Steve into a tight embrace. 

“No,” Bucky whines, rubbing his face into Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s stay in bed all day and have all the sex.” Steve flushes. He resists the urge to pick his phone back up and tell Maria to fuck off. 

“Maria’s here,” he sing-songs. “With breakfast.” Bucky sits up quickly, clamoring out of bed and pulling on a shirt (it’s Steve’s shirt, which may or may not take five years off of Steve’s life). 

“Shit!” He crows. “Get your ass up, Stevie! We gotta see what happened with her and Natalia!” Steve smiles radiantly. 

“I love you,” he says. “You don’t have to say it back, but--”

“Don’t be stupid, Rogers,” Bucky growls. “I love you too.”

Steve has to kiss him some more. 

“Sorry,” he calls, heading into the living room, hand in hand with Bucky. He grinds to a halt. Maria is there. And so is Natasha Romanov, draped over her shoulder like a shawl. 

“It’s fine,” Maria says, blushing. They smile not so secret smiles at each other. Steve lets go of Bucky’s hand to do his handshake with Maria, looking over in surprise to find their Russian assassins imitating it perfectly. 

“What?” Nat asks. “You’re not the only pair of friends.” 

“Where’s the coffee?” Bucky demands. 

“Kitchen.” Maria elbows Steve in the ribs as Bucky and Natasha head for the kitchen. “Good night, Rogers?”

“The best,” he says. “How about you?” Maria grins. 

“Filthy,” she tells him. 

“Alrighty,” Steve says. “No more details. We’re normal, adult friends, remember?”

“Yeah, right,” Maria deadpans.

Seven months after Bucky moves into Stark Tower

“What about Eliza?” Natasha asks. They’re sitting in the Barnes-Rogers living room. Steve and Bucky are tangled together on the couch, as always, while Natasha perches like a bird on the arm of her girlfriend’s chair. 

“Fine,” Sam caves, sinking back in his chair. “She’s cute, and fifth wheeling you guys is killing me. You couldn’t tone down the PDA a little bit?”

“Nope,” Nat, Maria, Bucky, and Steve say in unison.