Chapter 1
Bucky pulled his scarf tighter around his neck as he made his way down the mostly deserted street.
It was still early in the morning. The sun had barely made its way over the horizon and it warming rays struggled to cut through the snowy clothes. Very few people braved moving about on morning such as these but to Bucky they were his favourite. Its stark contrast to his days spent in Afghanistan - where the sun gave no one a reprieve and air was thick and dry with the desert sand – made him grateful to be back in New York.
The wind nipped at his face, pushing a few strands of hair into his eyes. He had let it grow out since his days in the service. Some days, when the weathered wasn’t as forgiving and the day seemed to radiate with heat he would pull it back into a messy bun at the back of his head. Steve would tease him about his hobo-chic look but Bucky couldn’t really care-less about his best friend’s opinion on his hair.
As much as he loved a snowy New York morning, Bucky was more than pleased to see his destination come into focus. He shook his head in amusement as he did every morning when he read the sign above the door.
The Little Coffee Shop of Horrors wasn’t really the typical New York coffee shop name but it was all part of its quirky charm and Bucky adored every part of it.
Fishing his set of keys from his pocket Bucky opened the front door and immediately inhaled deeply. No matter what time of day the shop always smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries. The scent alone could invigorate a person. Bucky allowed a small smile to adorn his face. It would probably be another half an hour before Steve showed up but Bucky preferred it this way.
A half an hour for just him and the shop.
Shedding his coat and scarf in the back room Bucky slipped on his green apron – keeping with the shop theme and all – and got to preparing for the day. He enjoyed the little time he had alone in the shop, once Steve arrived there wouldn’t be a moment in the day where he was alone until he was back in his bed for the night – not that Bucky didn’t enjoy the company of others but it got tiring sometimes.
At precisely seven o’clock the door opened to reveal Steve properly bundled up beneath layers of warm clothing. For some reason the cold seemed to affect Steve more that was expected. For such a big guy it always seemed to seep deep within his bones. Bucky kept the temperature a few degrees higher in the shop during the winter especially for Steve. No one ever seemed to mind the extra warmth. It was more than welcomed.
Steve’s aversion to the cold could be plainly observed by the pink tinting his cheeks and nose. His hands were stuffed under his arm pits, a clear indication that he had forgotten his mittens before leaving the apartment. He shut the door quickly to make sure he didn’t let any of the warmth escape.
Bucky leaned casually against the counter and watched as his friend allowed the warmth to engulf his, pushing out the last tendril of the cold.
“Better?” Bucky asked after a while.
Steve smiled at him from beneath his beanie, “Better.”
“Then get your ass in the kitchen we open in an hour.”
Sometime Bucky thought Steve’s smile alone could light up a room with its warmth.
After storing his winter clothes in back Steve got to work in the kitchen. The man was an artisan in the kitchen. It was part of the reason The Little Coffee Shop of Horrors was as popular as it was. Steve’s pastries were exquisite to put it simply. Bucky thanked Sara Rogers everyday for passing down her skills to her only son. She would be proud of him where ever she was.This wasn’t to say that Bucky’s brewing skills weren’t part of the shop’s small success. The shop mostly sold traditional coffee drinks not the exotic and complicated creations Starbucks boasted of. They were simplistic in their approach to brewing but if called for Bucky could whip up one of those drinks with their long, tiring and useless names.
“Hey Buck, what’s the special for today?” Steve asked from the kitchen.
Bucky hesitated in his answer. The specials of the day were solely left in his hands something he appreciated dearly. He looked out the shop window and contemplated on what he should choose.
“Let’s make it a latte day today”
Steve furrowed his brows a bit at the decision; usually the specials would be something a little more unique than a simple latte. Not that he ever doubted Bucky’s choices – it was just unexpected.
“Any reason why?”
Bucky shrugged casually as he made his way to the chalk board on the opposite wall. Under the big red letter spelling out special he wrote the word latte. Steve didn’t bother to further question his best friend, if that was Bucky’s choice then the latte would be the drink of the day.
“Hey what do you think goes best with a latte? he asked instead.
“Muffins.” came a muddled answer from the door. Bucky turned to see Bruce standing in the door looking very much like Steve had when he arrived, hands tucked beneath his arms and face buried in the scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. The only things visible were curls of brown hair peeking out from under his hat.
“We don’t open for another forty five minutes, you’ll have to wait outside.” Bucky deadpanned. Steve stifled a giggle from the kitchen but Bruce just shook his head.
“Har har.”
“You think I’m not serious?” Bucky continued keeping his face impassive, “Shop opens at eight and the owner would be up my ass if he knew that I let someone come in before we opened.”
Bruce faked a grimace, “He sounds horrible. You should kick him out and run the place yourself.”
“We basically do!” shouted Steve from the kitchen.
There wasn’t much pretending after that because Bucky cracked up, holding his stomach and laughing heartily. That started a chain reaction and before you knew it both Steve and Bruce were laughing as well. Bucky was the first to recover and he crossed the distance between him and Bruce in four easy strides clapping the shorter man on the shoulder as he neared. “Man you must be exhausted if you went along with all that.” Bucky quipped. Bruce gave him a tired smile.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Steve came out of the kitchen, mixing bowl in hand, “Rough night at the clinic?”
“Not anything I haven’t handled before,” Bruce replied as he moved away from Bucky and towards Steve. There was heaviness to his steps that betrayed his wariness. Both Bucky and Steve exchanged worried glances. Bruce might try to play it off but everyone could see he was down. “Why don’t you have a seat in the big arm chair? I’ll fix you a nice cup of tea.” Bucky offered. Tea always worked wonders with Bruce.
“No no. It’s alright, I just need sleep.”
Steve seemed to disagree, “Just stay and have a cup of tea. The muffins will be ready soon too.”
Bruce shook his head again but an amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “And here I thought I was the one in charge.”
“Nope,” Bucky replied, popping the ‘p’, “Your name may be on the lease but Stevie and I are the one who keep this place afloat!”
That got a full-fledged smile from Bruce, “Whatever, just keep my precious shop intact.”
“Aye aye sir!” Steve said using the spoon he was mixing the batter with to salute the tired man.
As Bruce made his way up the stairs at the back of the shop Bucky called out, “I’m still bringing up that tea for you!”
“And a muffin!” Steve added. The footsteps stop sounding immediately.
“Blueberry?” came the soft inquiry from mid-way up the steps.
“Blueberry.” Steve confirms in a much gentler voice. The sound of footsteps started up again and both Steve and Bucky had to grin at the start of their morning so far.
The rest of the morning moved fairly uneventful. Before officially opening the shop for customers Bucky sneaks upstairs to deliver Bruce’s tea. He finds the man sprawled out on the couch fast asleep. Not wanting to bother him, Bucky creeps across the room, mindful of the one squeaky floor board right before the living room. He placed the cup of tea on the small coffee table and then drapes the afghan on the back of the couch over Bruce’s slumbering form.
After working for Bruce for nearly two years, serving and managing the coffee shop for him when he couldn’t anymore, this has become like a routine for all of them. Bruce would come home in the morning from the all night clinic that he worked at, tired and real low. Bucky and Steve would sling banter back and forth to lift his mood before seeing him off to sleep away the previous night’s trials.
Later on in the morning – once the muffins were finished- Steve would head up and purposely forget about the squeaky floor board. Bruce would stir from his slumber on the couch which was a good thing. The crick in his neck if he did sleep there would have made him irritable. The tea would have cooled down by then so Bruce would sip it gingerly while he nibbled on the blueberry muffin Steve would bring him.
This had been the routine among them for the past year and a half.
Within the first hour of the shop opening there would be a steady stream of patron moving in and out. Most would take a coffee and a pastry to go so the numerous chairs and sofas in the shop were left unoccupied. Later on in the day the foot traffic would pick up again and the chairs would eventually be filled with warm bodies. The Little Coffee Shop of Horrors was well equipped with numerous plush arm chairs and sofas. All around the modest sized shops were little nooks that people could hide away in and enjoy themselves. It had been part of the reason Bucky and Steve fell in love with this place. Everything from the names to the décor, with its dark pastel colours, was soothing. That and Bruce was pretty neat himself.
After the last of the early morning commuters had left Steve came out to hang with Bucky out front.
“So did you ask Peggy out yet?” Bucky asked.
“No.”
Bucky had to strain to hear Steve’s muffled answer. He sighed in exasperation.
“C’mon buddy when are you going to man up and ask her out?!” Bucky exclaimed, “You have been crushing on her since you started this stupid course.”
“Art isn’t stupid!”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” Bucky apologized.
Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. He leaned against the counter and stared out at the cars passing on the street outside. “Yea I know Buck sorry.” Bucky clapped his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “It’s just Peggy such an amazing lady. She would never go for a guy like me.”
Bucky had to laugh at Steve there. A guy like him? Bucky couldn’t count the number of times women literally lined up to flirt with Steve when he was working the counter. “Yea whatever you say bud.” Steve turned to look at Bucky with a smirk on his face. “When was the last time you went on a date Mister?” Bucky made a face at his friend, “Don’t try to change the topic.”
“I’m not,” Steve replied in that voice that dripped innocence, “I just think it’s not fair that you get to be on my ass about asking Peggy out when the last date you had was with Natasha.”
“Natasha is a classy lady!” defended Bucky.
“I never said she wasn’t.”
“I’m not ready for a relationship yet.”
Steve gave Bucky an incredulous look. The other man refused to meet his gaze. “Bullshit.” Steve called.
“Language.”
Steve groaned at the familiar jab, “That was just one time!” Bucky laughed at Steve’s pained expression. It had indeed just been one time but Bucky would never let him forget it and neither would any of their friends. “Hey! Who’s changing the subject now?” Steve accused, “You know you’ve always wanted a relationship.”
“Maybe before.” Steve observed how Bucky unconsciously flexed his prosthetic arm. He knew that the loss of his arm in a bombing back when they were in the service had left Bucky with more than just physical scars. “The right girl isn’t going to care about that you know right?” Bucky sighed and turned back to Steve.
“Finding the right girl s’gonna be a stretch.”
“You’ll find her one day Buck.” replied Steve, clapping Bucky on the shoulder before returning to his domain in the kitchen. After that there was wasn’t much time for Steve and Bucky to converse, the lunch rush was in full swing and wouldn’t end until about two in the afternoon. Bucky spent his time fixing drinks while Steve worked the shop which was now packed with people sitting enjoying their lunch break. At about one o’clock Bruce came down and pulled an apron from out the store room and took over the register so that Bucky could take a lunch break. Even though it has been quite some time since Bruce officially worked in the shop he still knew the working of the place and brewed drink with the same efficiency as Bucky himself.
Bucky would eventually replace Steve as the waiter while he went for lunch and then the three of them would stay there and weather out the lunch rush together. Afterwards Bruce would grab whatever pastry Steve had lying around and head back upstairs to catch another nap before getting ready to leave for shift at the clinic. From then on there would be a slow stream of customers in and out of the shop.
Bucky was reading a text from Sam when the little bell above the door chimes. He sees a tall brunette standing in the doorway. She’s really pretty is the first thing that pops into Bucky’s mind. He quickly shakes off the thought wondering where it came from in the first place. The brunette stares at the menu board across the room. Bucky snort quietly. She must have been admiring the art work Steve did on the board - something new every day. She takes one more minute to scan the board before moving fully into the shop. She steps up to the counter and Bucky can literally count every eyelash that rest above her very blue eyes. It takes him a moment to remember that he has to get her order and that requires talking.
“What can I get for you?”
The woman doesn’t hesitate before replying, “Latte,” and her voice is like stretched silk – firm but smooth.
“Course,” Bucky replies and immediately set about making her the drink. He’s so uncharacteristically flustered that he doesn’t bother asking her the size or whether she wants it to go or have it here. He just needs to get a bit of his bearing back. This was all Steve’s fault, putting ideas in his head and getting him to think about relationship again.
“Do you all have almond milk?”
The voice startles Bucky out of his internal monologue. He raises a single eyebrow at her query, and if it wouldn’t have looked suspicious he would have smirked at the faint crimson that coloured the tips of her ears. “Lactose intolerant,” was the only explanation she offered. Bucky hummed in acknowledgment. “Sorry, we only got lacto free.”
The woman sighed a little, “That’s fine.”
Bucky felt something twist in his chest but continued to make the drink and when he was done went to hand it to her over the counter but she wasn’t looking at him. Instead she was looking at the pastries in the display case next to the register. “Are these made in store?” she asked, one fingered pressed against the glass. “Sure are!” Steve chimed in cheerfully and Bucky felt an unfamiliar moment of annoyance at his friend’s presence.
“Can I have one of the muffins to go please?” she asked and before Steve could move forward Bucky was in front of the case opening it up and filling the shop with the scent of freshly baked pastries. “What kind?” The brunette considered the display for a moment and pointed to the banana. Placing the muffin in a bag, Bucky moved back to the till to ring up her entire order.
Bucky didn’t even realise he had positioned himself between Steve and the woman, neither did he notice he had handed her the latter with his prosthetic hand. If she noticed she didn’t show it and with a parting smile she left the shop. Steve wasted no time in saddling up next to Bucky and punched him hard on his flesh arm.
“Aggressive much?”
“What the hell are you talking about?! You’re the one who just punched me.” Bucky rubbed the spot where Steve had hit him. The feeling was slowly coming back to him but sometimes he thought Steve forgot he wasn’t the small, weakling he was back when they were kids. “I’m talking about how you nearly steam rolled me to get to the pastry case even thought I was closer.” Bucky could hear the amusement in Steve’s voice and didn’t like where this was going one bit. “Can’t say I blame you thought.”
“Don’t you already have a pretty brunette you aren’t asking out?” Bucky shot back but his best friend only smirked wider. “So you admit you thought that she was a pretty brunette?” He knew what Steve was trying to do but wasn’t going to fall into his trap. “I have eyes Stevie,” (Steve hated the nickname), “Anyone could tell she was pretty.”
“If that what’s help you sleep at night.” Steve sang out before heading back into the kitchen.
At six thirty Bruce comes down freshly shaved and showered and bundled deep in his winter gear. Steve hands his a bag with the pastries that haven’t been sold for the day and Bucky arms him with a thermos filled with piping hot coffee. The pair sees him off to his night shift before beginning preparation for closing up the store. At precisely seven o’clock Bucky swap the sign on the door to closed and he and Steve make their way home.
“So you think you’ll ask her out?” Steve asks out of the blue.
“I’ll ask her out the day you ask Peggy.”