On, Wisconsin!

After the sun had dropped far below the horizon, crystal-clear stars invaded the empty, dark sky. Their shimmering forms are reflected in the dark, cold water of the lake. You sit on the edge of the dock, your legs swaying gently, toes skimming over the silent surface of the still water, creating gentle ripples that alter the starry painting that has locked you in a captivating trance. The large, full moon illuminates your surroundings, serving as the main light source in the never-ending darkness of the forest. Frogs and crickets create a delightful melody that swings through the air, further securing you in a powerful stupor.

A soft rumbling of footsteps on the dock hauls you out from your thoughts. You look over your shoulder and see Bucky carrying two mugs in his hands with a large afghan blanket draped over his shoulder. He’s wearing a black hoodie and sweatpants, which seems a lot more practical than your pajama shorts and t-shirt. He greets you with a small, caring smile as he sets one of the mugs next to you and the other one a few feet away. His hair is pulled back into a low bun, a few strands of hair had escaped and frame his face. You take the mug in your hands, warmth blossoming into your palms as the smell of chocolate dances at your nose. Bucky drapes the blanket over your shoulders, and you hum in thanks, appreciating the layer of protection from the chilly summer night air. He takes a seat next to you, his left thigh pressing against yours as he crossed his legs.

You take a sip of the hot chocolate, the steaming liquid slightly burning your tongue. The hair on the back of your neck begins to prick as the feeling of a gaze lingering on you sends a shiver down your spine. Looking up, you make brief contact with Bucky’s gaze, then look away, clearing your throat.

“I was a HYDRA agent,” you blurt out, breaking the arduous, drawn-out silence between you and Bucky. “An, uh…an assassin, to be more specific.”

You look over at Bucky. His eyes shine in the moonlight as his face is set in a heavy, understanding expression. When he didn’t say anything, you decided to continue, looking back out over the mesmerizing view. Something about the night and the complex, comforting feeling you felt radiating from Bucky just seemed to cut open the box of secrets you had hiding in your mind.

“I knew you before joining the team,” you whisper. “I…I never actually interacted with you, but I saw you a few times, training other agents, or walking around the facility being trailed other HYDRA members. They trained me to be the best agent they could use when you weren’t ‘in commission’. When they couldn’t risk possibly putting your life on the line, they sent me to do the job. I would do anything I had to just to complete a mission.” Your voice started to take on a shaky edge. “I’ve destroyed so many lives…so many families, I just…”

Your breath hitches in your throat as tears prick at the corner of your eyes.

“I was never afraid of you,” you push yourself to continue. This time, your voice was barely audible above the sounds of the night. Slowly, you lift your legs and turn your body to face Bucky. You cross them under the afghan, resettling into a more comfortable position. “I knew the soldier I saw wasn’t you, and when I met you for the first time - the real you - I…I was just blown away. You’re so kind a-and funny, and just, such a wonderful person…” You sniffle as a trickle of a tear slides down your cheek. Bucky was still looking down at the water, soaking in every word that tumbled from your mouth. The hot chocolate was reaching dangerously close to the rim of the mug as your hands shook in your lap. You set the mug down to your left, opting cross your arms and pull the sides of the blanket closer to your body.

“I…I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier, I just -”

Bucky pulls you into his arms, enveloping your shuddering frame in a comforting, strong embrace. As the shock of his sudden action subsides, you unwrap your arms from your body, sliding them under Bucky’s arm and around his back.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Bucky mutters next to your ear as he hugs you tighter. He rubs large, relaxed circles over your back. You stay like that for a few minutes, focusing on relaxing your breathing. Bucky smells like the forest, very earthy and calming, but has a tint of his body wash - he smells like home.

You pull back, and he brings a warm hand to your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears with his thumb. His palm is rough, but at the same time, comforting. He drops his hand back into his lap.

“I know that must have been hard, but…thank you for telling me,” he whispers, mouth curving into a delicate, full-hearted smile. His eyes sparkled with something deep brewing beneath his calm exterior, sending a wave of calming warmth washing through you. The moonlight spreads across half his face, casting the other half in shadows. He looks beautiful.

“Thank you for listening,” you softly smile back. A shiver snakes through your skin as a cool breeze slips through the holes between the crocheted yarn of the blanket. Bucky reaches to his waist and grabs the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it up and over his body, then hands it to you. You happily take it, letting the blanket fall around you, and slide the hoodie over your head. The residue of heat from his body that lingers in the fabric spreads down your arms and across your chest as you hand him the blanket. He takes it and lays it down on the dock behind him, then motions for you to lay down.

You both lay on your backs, looking up at the endless sky. You let your arm slide over the edge of the dock, lightly grazing the surface of the lake with your fingertips.

“I still have nightmares, too,” Bucky’s voice gently cracks into the silence. “They used to be really bad, but they’ve gotten better since Steve brought me in. It took me forever to warm-up to the team. I just felt like such a burden, like I didn’t belong, or even deserved to be an Avenger. I still kind of feel like that sometimes - just another basket case.” He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow, slightly hovering over you. “But when you showed up, I never felt like that. There was just something about you that felt…familiar. I felt like I didn’t have to hide anything from you - I didn’t have to be afraid. The more time I spent with you, the fewer nightmares I had.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you listened and took-in every word he spoke. You brought your free hand to his chest, feeling the dull drumming of his heartbeat through his shirt. He looks at you for a long, relaxed moment, then leans closer to your face, his lips hovering only a few inches from yours. You could feel his soft breath fan across your cheek as you move your hand from his chest to the side of his face, sliding your fingers through the loose locks of hair that had fallen from the bun.

“Do you trust me?” He mutters. A warm flame of desire flicked to life in your stomach.

“Yes,” you breathe. Bucky leans in more, about to close the small amount of distance between you two when a loud, bone-rattling scream pierces the air. You and Bucky jump up from the dock, standing back-to-back as you try to determine where the scream had come from.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT,” Steve’s voice cuts through the night. Bucky takes off up the stairs, taking three at a time. You trail close behind, taking only two at a time. You stumble through the door to the sunroom then skip the stairs, searching for Steve. Bucky turns into the kitchen as you head to the living room.

“Steve…why are you on the island,” Bucky states flatly more than asks. You blink and turn around, jogging across the room to the kitchen doorway.

Steve was on top of the island in the middle of the small kitchen, squatting and holding a plastic spatula.

“Look,” he hisses, pointing the spatula towards the glass door that leads to a small mudroom. You look at Bucky. He raises an eyebrow and shoots a quick side glance towards you. You sigh and slowly walk around the island. The door was open and the trash can was tipped over, its contents splayed across the floor leading into the kitchen.

“Steve, I don’t see any- OH SHIT,” you squeal, leaping back into the fridge behind you as a huge, scraggly possum waddles out of the trashcan. You instantly jump up onto the counter, shoving Steve over.

“What are you two - what the SHIT is that,” Bucky quickly dips out of the room, peering around the doorway. “How did that get inside?!”

“It’s a possum!” You crouch and jump off the island, landing in the doorway. You dip behind Buck, putting your hands on his back and standing on your toes to peer over his shoulder. “Steve, scare it away!”

“WHAT?! WHY ME!”

The possum peeks its head around the corner of the island, its beady eyes and sharp nose poking around the room.

“Good luck!” You pull the sliding door shut, trapping Steve in the kitchen and cutting off the only source of light simultaneously. Even in the dark, you could feel Bucky’s lingering presence. The sound of a few pans clattering together and a slur of curse words are muffled by the door. You drown out the noise as Bucky brings his metal hand to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” you can hear his smile in his voice. His soft breath tickles your nose as he leans in, hesitating for a brief moment. “Are you sure you want this?”

“I’ve wanted this longer than you think,” you whisper back as adrenaline begins to pulse in your veins. You push up on your toes, locking your lips with Bucky. His lips are soft and rough at the same time, making you crave more. He deepens the kiss, and before you could react, you hear the kitchen door slide open at lightning speed. Light pours over you two, and you quickly break away, turning your heads at the same time to find Steve standing in the doorway - still holding a plastic spatula and now a bag with something heavy inside dragging it down - with his mouth hanging open. You drop your hands from Bucky’s chest and tug on the bottom of the hoodie - his hoodie - as you clear your throat, biting your bottom lip. Steve still stared at you, saying nothing at first.

“I’m telling Nat!” He pushes between you two, jogging into the sunroom.

“No! Steve!” You bolt after him, jumping over the stairs, but you were too late.

“Sent,” he smiles. If he had been in any other room, he wouldn’t have been able to send anything, but the sunroom was the only room with any sort of reception. Great.

“I knew it! I knew this would happen.” His smile grew into a shit-eating, triumphant grin. Sure enough, a few moments later, your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your pajama shorts.

“I can’t believe you!! Why didn’t you tell me about Barnes?!? Call me, NOW!” Natasha’s text read.

You groan and sigh at the same time, flopping down onto the futon beside Steve.

“Steve…Do you have any idea of what you just did?”

“Yeah I do,” he boasts. “I just won a fifty dollar bet.”

“You what,” you and Bucky both question simultaneously. You sit up, leaning off the edge of the futon.

“What are you talking about?” You stand up and face Steve. “What bet?”

“The rest of the team and I had a bet going on how long it would take for you two,” he looks between you and Bucky, “to finally get together. And I just won.”

You blink at him, then turn to Bucky, who was now doing his best to stifle both a grin and his chuckling, failing miserably at both.

“I just…I can’t believe…Why me,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, shutting your eyes tight. “I’m going to kill you,” you groan at Steve.

“You think you can actually take me on?”

“You’re such a punk,” you lightly punch his arm. “I’m going to bed…Today has been enough for me.” You walk up to the main room, brushing past Bucky as you head towards your shared bed. You take one last look at your phone, finding about ten new text messages from other members of the team in a group chat, and decide to turn it off for the night. After putting it down on the side table next to you, you climb into bed, drowning in your racing thoughts inside your mind and the heavy blankets covering your body. Before you drift off to sleep, you feel the bed dip under Bucky’s weight. You could feel his hand gently brush some hair out of your face, and you look up at him through hazy eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, doll,” he smiles.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that because of the whole ‘bet’ thing?”

He lifts your chin lightly, then ghosts his lips over yours.

“I’m positive, darlin’.”