Puppy Love

You'd woken up with trepidation. Bucky had said he'd stay the night but he was a loose cannon it seemed. Or maybe a lost kite seemed more accurate. You slipped on your fuzzy socks and shuffled out of your room. The clock read 6:45 on a Saturday meaning that you could open the shop later than usual. You entered your living room to find nothing and again you could feel your heart plummet. You wished he would trust you, but maybe that was asking for too much. 

The kitchen held a small surprise for you though. There, on the counter was a small note that read: Went on a jog. I'll be back. You smiled wide, feeling a burst of energy course through your veins.

He'd stayed with you.

With that, you'd thrown yourself into cooking breakfast. Having never cooked for more than one, it was certainly a challenge. Pancakes, french toast, sausages, and fruits were scattered across the dining table. It was only after you'd finished cooking that you noticed just how much you'd made. It was too late to change anything as you could hear the door opening. 

"Bucky, is that you? I made breakfast!"

"Yeah doll, it's me. It smells amazing in here." His eyes seemed to widen at the array of food you had laid out. It tickled your fancy at how visibly pleased he seemed at the appearance of food. 

Sitting down, both you fell into an amiable silence. While eating, you took a chance to finally examine the man across from you. You quickly realized just how handsome he was. The thickness of his eyebrows and the sharpness of his jaw drew you in. You felt a strange urge to run your fingers across his face. His mouth seemed to be a vacuum as he devoured everything you cooked. It pleased you to know he enjoyed your food so much. You found yourself fixated on his arms, how they flexed when they moved, and how they just barely seemed to be contained in his long-sleeved shirt. You wanted to map out his exquisite body. 

Your thoughts shocked you. You were supposed to be helping this man, not objectifying him. You hastily chalked it up to never see such a fit man up close. It caught you off guard, that's all. Ashamed of yourself, you began to nibble on your french toast, purposely avoiding looking at him. 

"When do you open today?" 

His words startled you out of your little downward spiral. "I always open and close later on the weekends. Today though, since we got new puppies, we're going to open at 10 so they can get acquainted with the staff and other animals before the customers come in."

"Do you think I could help set up?" 

You finally made eye contact with him. You weren't sure what you were looking for, his face a blank slate, but you smiled and welcomed him nonetheless. It'd be nice to have a helping hand, instead of doing everything yourself in the mornings. With an affirmative nod, you both finished breakfast rather quickly with little conversation. Bucky offered to wash the dishes while you got ready for the day. You happily thanked him and patted him quickly on the shoulder. You didn't notice how he tensed up, nor did you notice how his eyes followed you as you retreated to the bathroom.

You showered quickly, not spending much time on your own appearance this morning. Soon you were out of the bathroom in a fresh pair of clothes, feeling much better than you had in a while. 

"Do you wanna shower, too?" Bucky looked up from the sink and nodded slowly, seemingly needing a moment to process what you'd said.  "Good, cause you left your clothes when you disappeared. I washed them and they're in the bathroom now." 

"Okay," He looked torn, wanting to say something. You smiled patiently, willing to wait as long as needed. He finally settled on a gruff, "thank you."

"Anytime, Bucky." As he headed to the bathroom, you situated yourself on the couch. 

You lost yourself in thought over the stranger who was quickly worming his way into your heart. Was that okay? You should be more on edge, right? He was the winter soldier for crying out loud! Pretty eyes and strong arms be damned. Speaking of, he didn't even know that you knew about him being the winter soldier. Maybe he did. Should that even be a subject that's broached? What if you made him uncomfortable when that was surely the last thing you wanted to do. You'd drive him from your home when he'd just come back. You knew he came here to get away from something. It wouldn't sit right with you to bring all the bad things back into his life. As you heard the shower turn off you settled on a decision: all that mattered was that Bucky felt okay. You never wanted to hurt people and you were certain Bucky would only be harmed from bringing up such a taboo topic.

Said person, brought you out of your thoughts - by scaring the everloving shit out of you. The man was so silent you didn't even notice him slink up behind you. You jumped so high in the air, you were sure the WNBA was going to be sending you a letter requesting you to join one of their teams. 

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! You trying to give me a fucking heart attack?" 

"Sorry doll," He chuckled at me, obviously not sorry at all. "Who would've thought that was His middle name though, huh?"

You scoffed at his immaturity and stood up. "Scare me like that again and I'll kick your ass." You smacked his arm, knowing you didn't do much damage. Still, it felt good to get back at him after that scare. You headed out of your cozy abode, still in your slippers, down to get the shop prepped for another day of customers and craziness. You locked the door after Bucky stepped out and pouted at him when you saw his boyish grin.

"I doubt you could do much damage, doll but I appreciate the effort." He started down the stairs and you honest-to-God wanted to smack him upside the head at that moment.  

"Listen up you little shit. You better be ready cause I'm gonna work you to the bone today." 

"I'm gonna hold you to that doll."

"Good." 

Once you were downstairs, you immediately thrust a rag into his hand. After instructing him to start cleaning off the tables, you fiddled with your phone, trying to turn on some music to clean too. You'd finally settled on some recent new songs by your favorite artist. You smiled to yourself and grabbed the broom. Swaying to the music, you began quickly sweeping up the floor, the motion as easy as breathing at this point. When you turned, you found Bucky staring at you with an unreadable gaze. Tilting your head, you gave a confused smile that obviously asked if everything was okay. His eyes lit back up and, crossing his arms, he strode right up to you. 

"'m disappointed, I would've thought you had better taste than this. All this new age music is ridiculous."

"Hey, leave me alone. My music is perfectly fine." Bucky reached around you and grabbed your unlocked phone, typing into youtube, for music. "Hey, Bucky gimme my phone back!" You reached for your phone but to no avail. He'd held his hand in the air and you couldn't reach that high. You'd never thought you were particularly short but at this moment you felt entirely too small. 

"Just one sec." He started playing a song that wasn't entirely awful and you finally stopped attacking the soldier. "There ya go. Some good music." 

He sat the phone back on the table and took your hand. "Bucky, what're you doing?" He pulled you to his chest and you couldn't help the small gasp that escaped. 

"I'm dancing with you. Showing you how to actually dance, anyway." 

"I can dance perfectly fine thank you very much."

He just smiled and proceeded to fall into a much faster and less structured version of the waltz. That was the best way you could describe the dance you two were doing. Every time you looked up at him, he tightened the arm that somehow found it's way around your waist. You let him lead you in this perfectly wild dance. 

How perfectly ironic. The dance was much like what your relationship with this man was becoming. You had questions and were confused with the steps, but every time he was near you let him lead you. It was reckless and cautious all at the same time. Even though you felt like you were going to mess up, he never faltered, becoming a strong pillar for you. You knew you should've felt more scared. There was a very real sign of falling - thousands of them actually - but in his presence, you'd never felt safer. 

Suddenly, he spun you and dipped you. You felt his nose graze your neck and you were almost certain that your heart imploded. At the very least, you felt it constrict tightly. You sighed out deeply and let your eyes close, as Bucky pulled you back up. You knew if you looked at him right now, you might melt. That would certainly be unfortunate, considering you still had to open shop eventually. 

However, the thought of doing anything but dancing with this man seemed ridiculous. In this moment, at least, you were close. You were happy. And hopefully, he was too.

Bucky. Was. Insane. 

When he saw how you swayed your hips to the music, he knew this was divine punishment. Every second with you seemed to be that way. There was no doubt the woman in front of him was a type of punishment for his own sins. He couldn’t have you, despite how close you were. No matter how open you were for him. Fuck you were a sinful angel.

Now he was dancing with you. He was dipping you and holding you, pressing you against his body. Every time you looked up with him, worried about messing up the dance, he wanted to pull you closer and so he did. When he slowly brought you back up, he bent down and brushed his mouth against your ears. He relished in the way you shivered, how you held onto him tighter than you were, if possible. He would’ve killed anyone who ruined this small moment.

“You know you’re safe with me, doll.” You opened your mouth to speak. But all that came out was an elated laugh as he lifted you and spun. Bucky’s heart shivered at the sound of it. Gently setting you back down on your feet, he whispered against you again. “I’ll protect you.”

Bucky wasn’t sure whether he said it for you or for him. He had figured you’d known who he was, what he’d done. He was certain you’d glimpsed upon his arm. Seen the horrible reminder of the things he’d done. Yet you still accepted, at the very least tolerated him. You didn’t shy away from the metal arm once. Not when he’d hurt you with it, not when he’d scared you early, and not now when he was dancing with you.

You treated him like a man. You swore at him and hit him - though it did no damage at all. You offered him protection, as though, you – untrained, small, and much too kind – could save him from all the horrors of the world.

There was a part of Bucky that kicked himself for finding solace here. When had he become so weak as to let someone in so quickly? He was wary of everything and everyone. Except you it seemed. He loathed how he felt about you, disgusted that he was becoming soft. You’d think learn something after being tortured and destroyed for 70 odd years.

70 years of being a weapon, of killing people innocent and guilty alike. He’d destroyed lives, murdered mothers and fathers. He had played judge, jury, and executioner. ‘Winter Soldier’, they’d called him. It was befitting. He was cold-blooded, heartless, a curse in-

“Bucky?”

Gentle and kind, your voice broke him out of his thoughts. Your hand was on his cheek. He briefly wondered how it got there. He offered what most likely looked like a pained smile. Your eyes grew soft with concern.

“Bucky, hey you’re okay. You’re here with me. We are dancing in the café when we should be cleaning.” You chuckled at the end but kept your body pressed against his.

“Thanks, doll, for bringin’ me back.”

Bucky had said that he would protect you. Keep you safe. But it seemed to be the complete opposite. You constantly kept him safe; from the world and from himself. You were truly a Godsend that he was undeserving of.

Oblivious to the deep, real thanks he was giving you, you smiled brightly.

“Anytime, Bucky.”