Chapter 13
It had been five days since Bucky had seen Steve. Five long, agonizing days. Sure, he’d seen him at the art class after that fateful day that he knocked himself out, but Steve had been acting strange. Bucky couldn’t quite work out what Steve was doing, but he’d be all chatty and friendly one minute, then distant and calculating the next. It was honestly giving Bucky a headache. He hated not knowing where he stood with people, and Steve wasn’t making anything clear. He’d tried talking to Nat about it, but she claimed she didn’t notice anything different about Steve’s behaviour. She’d kept her face carefully blank, so Bucky knew she was hiding something. He was still debating whether it was worth his time trying to crack her.
He was also seriously debating whether taking Soldat for a walk in the blizzard outside was worth it. He’d woken up late, the sun not shining on him as it usually did. When he looked outside, he realised why. The sky was still pitch black, the window partially blocked by thick white snow. It was simultaneously Bucky’s favourite and most hated type of weather. Beautiful, unless you were out in it. It was days like this Bucky was grateful he didn’t have a job. The blizzard had truly come out of nowhere, and subsequently most businesses were closed. The subway was still running, but many trains were cancelled or delayed. Bucky thought of Steve, bundled up in about eighty layers, glasses misted over, pink nose and cheeks, going to work this morning, probably struggling to walk against the strong wind and torrential snow. The image made Bucky panic slightly. Steve could die in this weather. He hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to attempt to go to work.
Bucky groaned loudly upon realising that Steve bloody well would put himself in danger to get to work. It was with this thought that Bucky called Soldat to the door, putting his jumper and lead on. He grabbed his own jumper, ski jacket and Doc Martens and bundled himself in a scarf and gloves before locking the door. He was just taking Soldat for a walk. And if he happened to stop at a certain coffee shop to make sure a certain person hadn’t gone to work or, if he had, made it there alive then he was simply being a good friend.
He pushed open the door of the shop, teeth chattering and shoulders tense with the cold, inhaling the warm coffee-and-cinnamon air. It was like breathing for the first time after being locked in a cryo chamber for seventy years. As he looked over at the counter he sighed inwardly. Sure enough, Steve had been stupid enough to venture out in this weather, and he looked like it had hit him hard. His nose was still pink and he kept shivering sporadically, as though he was still fighting off the chill from outside.
Bucky sauntered over to the counter, Soldat trailing behind him, joints stiff from the cold. Bucky had felt bad almost as soon as they’d gotten outside, but Soldat was determined to go for a walk. No matter how many times Bucky had tried to coax him back inside, Soldat had resolutely stayed on the sidewalk. And, Bucky was now realising, it was all worth it to see the expression on Steve’s face as he got caught out. “Save it. Peggy’s already had a go at me. I don’t need it from you as well. No I shouldn’t have come out today. Yes I’m stupid. And yes I have my inhaler. I’m not in the mood.” Steve’s face was adorably disgruntled. Bucky had to bite his lip to keep from smiling.
“Hello to you too, Stevie.” Bucky smirked, leaning on the counter, trying and failing to look casual. Soldat rested his paws on the counter and grinned at Steve, his tongue lolling out. Steve rolled his eyes but patted him on the head, wincing when his fingers got wet from the snow in Soldat’s fur. Bucky laughed outright at Steve’s reaction, earning himself a glare and a muttered curse. Bucky blinked. Steve swearing should not be that hot. As it was, he felt an embarrassing shock of want shoot through his body.
Steve snorted, “what can I get for you? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Tea? A date?” Bucky looked up at Steve, shocked. Did Steve really just ask him out? No, he must’ve misheard. Not wanting to embarrass himself further, he asked for a caramel latte and a bowl of water for Soldat. He thought he saw a flash of disappointment in Steve’s eyes but disregarded it as a trick of the light. He sat down at a table close to the counter so he could continue to watch Steve like a creeper.
“One caramel latte, a day-old blueberry muffin, and a bowl of water for the cutest patron we’ve had in a while.” Bucky jumped as Peggy set his drink and muffin on the table, bending down to give Soldat a pat on the head and place the bowl in front of him. Soldat licked her hand in thanks and Peggy giggled. Bucky didn’t think it was possible to be upstaged by his dog, but here he was. He pulled his best flirty face at Peggy, hoping to get a bit of attention, but Peggy just rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to try harder than that, James. Besides, I’m not the one you should be impressing. I’m married and you’re gay. Maybe in another lifetime. In this lifetime, I highly recommend the other gorgeous barista here. He’s very interested, I promise you.” Bucky sputtered, feeling extremely wrong-footed. Peggy just winked at him, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she drifted back to the kitchen, heels clicking on the wooden floor.
Bucky saw her exchange a look with Steve, reminding him eerily of Natasha and Clint and their telepathy. Steve glanced over at him, quickly averting his eyes when he saw Bucky staring, a blush rising at the back of his neck. Bucky watched in fascination, wondering if Steve was one of those people that blushed all over. He wished he could find out, and felt a pang when he realised that was extremely unlikely. He honestly didn’t know how Peggy could say Steve was interested when it was increasingly clear that he wasn’t. Sure, there were times when Bucky thought maybe, but then Steve would do something to diminish that hope, leaving Bucky all kinds of confused. It was seriously giving him whiplash, the amount of times Steve would change his attitude. If Bucky was an optimist (which he most definitely wasn’t) he would say Steve was trying to send him mixed signals and playing hard to get. But, Bucky hadn’t gone through three tours in Afghanistan, lost an arm and all his friends to suddenly become an optimist. He’d been dealt far too much shit in his life to even consider the universe was on his side. It was a shit attitude, but he felt it was warranted.
“You alright, there, Buck?” Steve’s voice carried over to his table, and Bucky jolted out of his spiral. He looked up to see Steve watching him with concern, which meant Bucky’s face must be doing something spectacularly embarrassing. Steve gave him a tentative smile, and called to Peggy he was taking his break. Bucky hastily moved his scarf and gloves where they were piled on the chair opposite him so Steve could take the seat. “I’m gonna get myself a hot chocolate, you want one?” Bucky nodded, smiling when Steve gave him a mock salute. Bucky watched as Steve expertly made the drinks, carrying them over carefully and placing them on the table. Bucky quickly downed his now lukewarm coffee, and held the chocolate towards his face, revelling in the sweet scented steam coming from the cup.
Steve was watching him with an odd expression on his face. “What?” Bucky tried not to get defensive, he really did. But Steve was watching him like that, and Bucky didn’t want to deal with these kind of emotions this early in the morning (shut up, 2pm is definitely early morning). “I got something on my face?” He didn’t know why he was deliberately acting so oblivious, but this was something real, and scary, and damn you, Peggy, this was all your fault! She’d planted the possibility in Bucky’s head and now he was desperately trying to make it a real thing. Seeing expressions that meant something different to what he (so badly) wanted them to mean.
Once again, Steve brought him back to reality, this time with a light touch to his arm. He was looking really concerned now, brow furrowing with a little wrinkle in his forehead. Bucky wanted to smooth it out with his thumb, but he valiantly refrained. It was then that he realised his fists were clenched tightly on the table, metal arm whirring with the strain he was putting on it. He relaxed his muscles and tried for a tentative smile in Steve’s direction, hoping he looked reassuring instead of terrified. He must not have succeeded, judging by the way Steve’s face crumpled even more. “What’s wrong? You don’t have to tell me, but just know I’m here if you need to talk about anything.” Bucky looked at Steve, at his honest, open expression, marred with such overwhelming concern Bucky felt dizzy with it. He wanted to tell Steve, he really did, but he was terrified. What if Steve didn’t like him back? Or even worse, what if he did? What if Steve did like him, but then Bucky did something to screw it up? He had nightmares more nights than not, and such crippling depression it was a wonder he could function most days. Bucky didn’t want Steve to realise this a few months down the line and break if off after Bucky had allowed his feelings to develop. It would probably break him into a million little pieces, and no amount of Stark Tech could put him back together again. He opened his mouth, ready to explain it all, but what actually came out surprised them both.