Chapter 3
Bucky rolled out of bed with a grunt. He looked around blearily, hand reaching out to grab his phone. He yawned, smacking his lips together, feeling the dryness at the back of his throat. He had a missed call from Natasha. It probably wasn’t important, otherwise she’d be here already. They had keys to each others places, something Natasha abused, turning up at random times in the day and often in the middle of the night, bottle of vodka in hand and wanting to talk. Bucky couldn’t be too angry at her; she was only trying to help him. And it worked, not that he’d ever admit it.
He stood up, stretching his arms above his head, feeling the metal creak in the same way his joints popped. It was a really amazing piece of technology, it felt and acted like a real arm. If only Tony Stark didn’t have a robot fetish. Then maybe it would look like a real arm too. He dropped his phone on the bed and went to the bathroom, eager to wash the night off his body. He stood in the scorching hot shower, letting the water soak his hair, tipping his head back to warm up his face. He was always running cold, especially in the mornings. It didn’t help that it was already mid-November and his landlord still hadn’t fixed his radiators. He was lucky he didn’t die of hypothermia. His dog, Soldat, helped with his near freezing temperature, always up for cuddles. He really needed to take that dog on a long walk to repay him.
After he’d showered, dressed and ate, Bucky left the house, Soldat’s leash tied around his hand. He only had a few hours until the art class, and he was determined to do something with himself in the meantime. Without a job, finding stuff to do was difficult, but as long as it was free and didn’t require too much thought, Bucky was all over it. As he walked down the street, he pulled his phone out to text Natasha, asking what she phoned him for. As soon as he hit send, she immediately started ringing him. “Tash?” he asked with trepidation. He knew she hated that nickname but it didn’t stop him from using it. He hated when she called him James so they were even. Sort of.
“James, what are you doing right now?” Natasha asked. She was blunt, which Bucky loved. No messing around with her.
“Um, I’m taking Soldat for a walk, why?” at the mention of his name, Soldat perked up, tongue lolling out as he grinned.
“Meet me at the coffee shop, I’ve got to talk to you about something.” with that, Natasha hung up. With a sigh, Bucky tucked the phone back into his pocket. He pulled Soldat along to the coffee shop he and Natasha regularly met up at. It was a cute little place on the corner, that sold incredibly strong coffee and allowed dogs. It was Bucky’s favourite place in Brooklyn. Although if Steve kept turning up to the art classes, it would be a strong contender.
He opened the door, hearing the little bell above his head. He was immediately overwhelmed with the smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls, the heat enveloping him like a much-needed hug. He hadn’t realised how cold it was outside until he got inside. His muscles visibly relaxed as he breathed in deeply.
He spotted Natasha in the corner, her small frame obscured by the squishy brown armchair she was sitting in. Two cups of coffee sat in front of her, another absurdly large armchair calling for Bucky to rest his feet. He shuffled over and sat with a grateful sigh, pulling Soldat’s lead closer to him. His dog sat obediently, and was rewarded with a treat from Bucky’s pocket. He patted his head fondly and gulped his coffee gratefully. “Hey Nat, how’s it going? You needed to talk to me?” Bucky asked, smiling at his best friend.
“James, you should know by now that when I say talk I mean ‘want some company while I drink my coffee’.” Natasha raised an unimpressed eyebrow and sipped her coffee. Bucky shrugged and grinned at her easily. He’d known this was her plan, of course. He was just a little shit who couldn’t help but wind her up. They sat in companionable silence, both of them comfortable to just sit with each other without needing to fill the silence. Bucky kept a hand on Soldat when one of the waitresses had come over to put a bowl of water near his feet.
After both their mugs were empty and Bucky had finally gotten comfortable with the heat, Natasha stood, brushing herself down. She looked down at Bucky when he let out a pitiful whine. He didn’t want to go back out in that awful cold. He checked his watch and cursed. There was only an hour until the art class. He was still dressed in his sweatpants and a ratty hoodie. He’d wanted to dress a bit nicer this time, knowing Steve was going to be there. Natasha gave him a knowing smirk and rolled her eyes. She pulled him to his feet and he all but sprinted out the door, Soldat leaping joyfully in his wake.
He was late. He knew he shouldn’t have had another shower. But he was sweaty from running all the way home to get ready. Not that it would’ve made much difference, as he’d run to the art class as well. It was only a few blocks away from his flat, but he was still a little out of breath when he arrived. He burst into the room, much to the annoyance of the teacher and, judging by her face, the absolute delight of Natasha. When he looked around the room and saw only one spare seat, he made a beeline for it, not checking who was sitting there. He looked up and made eye contact with Natasha. Her smile was positively blinding and, when he looked to his right, he saw why.