Now I'm out Here Single
It isn't long after Steve returns from his room, now fully clothed, that he's guided onto the kitchen bar stool while the blond rummages around the cabinets, pulling things seemingly out of nowhere. Bucky waits impatiently, tapping his fingers against the counter. He huffs and puffs, slightly out of annoyance and slightly because he's trying to relieve himself of the hot ache he feels just looking at the stupid man.
Steve pulls a stool up in front of the brunet, grabbing an alcohol pad out of one of his many kits. Bucky is overwhelmed with the powerful chemical scent while Steve takes gentle hold of his chin, swiping the pad along Bucky's cheek.
"Fuck," Bucky breathes, wincing.
"Sorry," Steve murmurs, and Bucky gets distracted watching Steve's lips close and purse in concentration.
Bucky loses track of what Steve does after that, he just watches him with dazed eyes while he works. He's good at what he does, Bucky is pretty sure, but then again he could have been stabbed and not noticed.
By the time Steve finishes applying the last bandage, Bucky's eyes are drooping. After the initial sting of the alcohol, Steve has treated him with nothing but the utmost care, and Bucky might've fallen asleep right on the stool if the older man hadn't closed the first aid kit with a harsh snap. Bucky flinches and his eyes open back up just in time to see Steve sport a soft smile, as if sharing a joke with himself.
"You're all good, Buck."
Bucky clears his throat, willing himself not to fall into a puddle of shmoop. It felt so good, having a gentle touch on him for once. He hadn't had anybody touch him like that, ever. Brock had been his boyfriend from high school until now, and he would've killed whoever put a finger on Bucky. It's part of the reason Bucky loves flirting, he supposes, is that he had to play everything off as friendly.
"Thank you," Bucky whispers in response, licking his bottom lip and standing. "I think... I might go take a nap."
Steve nods a couple times, gathering his hands together in his lap. "Okay. You might, I mean. Will you eat something first?"
"Jesus," Bucky groans, coming back into his cocky self. "Is that what this is gonna be?"
Steve purses his lips and shakes his head. "Whadda ya mean, Buck?"
Bucky smiles, leaning against the counter. "Living with a doctor."
"Oh, you're living here now?" Steve asks with a wink.
"Shut up," Bucky laughs. "I'm homeless at the moment. My ex made me stay home all the time, y'know, be his pretty house thing. It's gonna take me a bit to get back on my feet."
The blond sobers up a bit, moving his hands to rest on top of the counter, inches from where Bucky is propped on his elbows. "That's okay. That's perfectly okay. I hope it isn't weird, but I'm- I'm proud of you. For leaving, I mean."
"Yeah, well. I was afraid he'd kill me if I didn't."
Bucky is absolutely serious, though he delivers the sentence with a grin to soften the blow. Steve isn't convinced but he smiles softly.
There's a long moment of silence before Bucky breaks it, "Yeah, Stevie, I'll eat something before I take a nap."
Steve grins. "Thanks, Buck."
"James?" Natasha asks, shaking his shoulder until the brunet jolts awake. He nearly knocks Nat in the forehead, but she has quick reflexes and backs up before he has a chance.
"Sorry," he groans, letting out an involuntary yawn. "Sorry, jeez. What's- did I fall asleep?"
Nat smiles, brushing his unruly hair back with her soft hand. "Appears so. Steve made dinner. Y'wanna come down and eat? Maybe watch a movie?"
Bucky closes his eyes again, enjoying the ministrations as she continues. "I don't think Steve likes me very much."
Nat's eyebrows pull together. "What makes you think that? I came home and was given a glowing review before I even asked. He said you let him clean your wounds and you ate something when he asked you to. Seems like you're the perfect patient."
Bucky laughs, pushing at Natasha's shoulder. "Shut up," he grumbles. "I just... I dunno. Probably not a good look I'm sporting. Y'know, getting the shit beat out of me by the dude I slept next to every night. Having to rely on my best friend because I only really just go to school right now. I feel real bad, Nat. If there's anything that opens up, any way for me to-"
Nat puts a finger over his moving lips, stilling them. "That's enough, James. I won't hear any more of it. You are my family. I love having you here."
Bucky just smiles, giving her finger a tiny peck before she giggles and pulls away, standing up and offering a hand out for him to do the same. He takes it, standing up and stretching his arms.
"What's for dinner?"
Nat grins. "Borscht."
"Borscht?" Bucky asks, involuntarily letting his voice raise to high levels in excitement. "He made Borscht?"
Natasha continues to smile and grin. "I know. I was excited too."
Nat moved to America when she was ten. Bucky, however, had a Russian mother that was incredibly poor until she married his rich step-dad. The language barrier always kept his mom from knowing the fucked up things Alexander did to him. But regardless, Bucky had been appointed Nat's hall buddy in fourth grade, and he both translated and helped her learn English. They'd been inseparable ever since.
"Wait- How did Steve make Borscht? Is it any good? Now I'm scared."
Nat laughs. "C'mon, let's go. If it's no good I'll get up in the middle of the night and make some real Borscht."
It's only halfway down the stairs that Bucky thinks to be embarrassed about his rather frumpy outfit, but at that point, it's too late. He does feel a pang of regret when he sees Steve in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up because, jeez, come on.
They all sit around the small table, and it may just be Bucky's imagination, but he swears Steve is staring him down.
"Uhh... hi, again," Bucky mutters.
Steve's lips quirk up. "Hi, Buck."
Natasha clears her throat, inspiring the two men to fall into an easy conversation about her workday. It turns out Steve makes Borscht incredibly well, which makes Bucky ask the blond where the hell he had learned to do so.
"Oh," Steve says, "I travel quite a bit. I was in Ukraine for three months about a year ago to help with medicinal needs, and they taught me how to make good food in exchange. Well, kind of. It's not nearly as good as-"
"Russia," Bucky finishes.
Steve blushes. "Right."
"It's still really, really good," Bucky reassures him. "Like, probably better than my Ma."
"Oh, God," Steve murmurs, shaking his head and smiling into his food. "Thank you."
Natasha clears her throat. "Well if you two are done flirting, I'd like to watch a movie."
Having taken a nap almost all day, Bucky isn't even close to tired when their film reaches its halfway point.
"I'm retiring," Nat says, standing from her spot next to Bucky. She stretches her lean limbs before kissing Bucky's head. "I'll see you in the morning, James, don't stay up too late."
"Yeah, yeah," Bucky waves her off.
Bucky thinks she may whisper a quick, "Take care of him," to Steve, but he'll never be sure.
Steve pauses the movie.
Exasperated, the brunet turns. "That's the best part!"
"I know, I know, I'm just... crammed. I'm a huge guy, I can't stuff myself in this recliner for another hour and a half. Do you mind?" he asks, very clearly asking if he may sit with Bucky.
Blushing despite himself, Bucky nods slowly, pulling his blanket up over his mouth to cover his inevitable smile.
Steve sits to the right of Bucky, just where Nat was, and settles in. He verifies that the brunet is ready before pressing play again.
Subconsciously, Bucky inches closer and closer to the blond. First, it's to readjust his blankets, then, there's a scary part in the movie, then...
Bucky falls asleep on Steve's chest once he notices the blond snoring. Maybe he can convince Steve that he fell asleep first.
But even if he can't he hasn't felt this safe, warm, or protected in years.