I Got Eyes On You
Bucky looked at his watch for what felt like the twenty-seventh time that minute, then looked back up at the flashing commuter info board.
Eastbound Blue Line: 3 minutes
Shit. It had been flashing the same information for the last eight minutes. He really shouldn’t have gotten that cup of coffee with Rebecca and Steve. It was great to catch up with them—he couldn’t believe he was actually thinking that, but there it was. It was great to catch up with them, and it was really great to see Rebecca. She looked so…happy. She certainly wouldn’t lead any casual bystander to that conclusion with the constant self-pitying talk, but he knew her well enough to look past all the drama. She seemed truly happy. She was practically glowing in anticipation of all of the future media events, and college life really seemed to agree with her. She looked great. She was gorgeous and all grown up and so not the quiet, mousy teenager who abided perfectly by every tenant of the Barnes house that Bucky remembered her as.
He could have almost forgotten everything right then, almost apologize for his unbelievably long absence and beg her forgiveness and then throw his arm around her, ruffling her perfect hair as only a big brother is wont to do, and move forward as the past five years crumbled to dust in the wind around them.
Almost.
But then there was Steve.
Steve whose smile lit up the entire coffee shop floor.
Steve whose piercing blue eyes resonated with something deep within Bucky’s own soul.
Steve, whose very name brought with it the faint smell of charcoal and warm wood.
Steve, whose arm was wrapped around Bucky’s sister.
And there it was.
It wasn’t like he ever stopped thinking about the guy, but it turned out that there was still some residual shitty emotional sentiment there. He had buried everything pretty deeply, he was remarkably good at dampening his own feelings in most matters, but they sure as hell tried to bubble its way back out once he made eye contact.
Eastbound Blue Line: 2 minutes
Oh, thank Christ. It finally changed. He looked back down at his watch: 4:27. It was a thirty-five-minute commute each way to and from his new apartment. He desperately needed to grab a quick shower and change into fresh clothes before dinner at the Barnes residence at promptly 6 pm. If everything ran perfectly from here on out, he would have exactly twenty-three minutes at home to get his shit together and look like a perfect Barnes son who had not just spent the day staving off a complete panic attack, sweating through his collared shirt and smelling like anxiety. His father was going to be at this dinner. Not that he necessarily needed to impress the man…George was the one who called Bucky into this project, he obviously felt that Bucky had proved himself decently enough to be welcomed back into the family business. He had to be impressed with his degree and with the recommendations his professors passed along. He had to be impressed with all of the work Bucky had done on the recent Finance Reform Bill that had just been approved…that was completely up George’s alley, and Bucky had put in most of the grunt work for the damn thing, and,
Bucky groaned. Oh yeah. He was totally over George and the manipulation patterns that were present in every facet of his life and Jesus, he wasn’t trying to impress the guy at ALL.
He heard a distant rumble and checked his watch. 4:28. Twenty-two minutes at home. It would be fine, that was more than enough time for a quick shower. He could even grab a red tie. That would be good. That would look better. He brushed his hair out of his eyes as the train rolled into the station and stepped up to the faded yellow line on the platform. Man, Steve looked really good. He flinched internally. Quit it Barnes.
Dark red. A dark red tie. That would look best.
Here’s the thing.
Bucky wasn’t ‘in’ to guys. It wasn’t like that with him and Steve. It would never be like that with him and Steve. He was super all about girls. Come on. Breasts? They were seriously awesome.
Picture this: last day of classes—Grade 10. Bucky Barnes totally making out with Nicole Landon in the back alley between the science and humanities buildings. Tongue and everything. She was one of those ‘super early puberty' types and already had massive tits that were pressing into Bucky's chest and his hand was half way up the front of her blouse and she was sticking her tongue in his mouth and her hands were groping the front of his pants and her thick ponytail was knotted around his right hand and…
“Dude. Landon. Whore it up much?”
A group of jocks had suddenly appeared whom Bucky eyed with disinterest.
Nicole coyly pulled her tongue back out of Bucky’s mouth and pushed him gently to the side, smoothing back her hair with her left hand.
‘Whatever Brandon. You’re just pissed your girlfriend’s holding out on you.” She smiled sweetly toward the group of jocks and pushed Bucky until his back was pleasantly rubbing up against the wall.
“Ok Sweetheart.” Brandon spat to the side. “Just thought I’d warn you—this guy is all kinds of pretentious and bag of dicks to boot.”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky replied sweetly over Nicole’s shoulder, “then what the hell does that make you? Fuck off DuPont.” And he grabbed Nicole and forced their mouths back together, exchanging saliva in the forceful, desperate way that only two sixteen-year-olds can,
And he was seriously half hard with just the memory. Definitely liked girls. He palmed his erection through his pants and glanced over at the small digital clock perched on his dresser. He was s’posed to meet Steve in ten minutes…
He closed his eyes and started rubbing his palm up and down. He thought about breasts, and thought about Nicole Landon’s wet mouth on his dick and it only took him two minutes to come in his boxers and so what if he bit his tongue to keep from murmuring his best friends name…
Surprisingly, the trains ran perfectly on schedule for the next hour and thirty-three minutes, and his shower and change of clothes really only took him seventeen minutes. The red tie was easily the best choice he could make, and he found himself back in the foyer of the Barnes Family row house at exactly 5:58 pm according to his watch which he checked one last time just for good measure. He took a deep breath, plastered his ‘James Buchanan Barnes: perfect second son' smile on his face and ascended the stairs up to the second-floor dining room.
It was a small soirée of sorts—the kind that only Winifred Barnes could come up with so effortlessly. There was a small string trio playing in the corner, and the ‘help’ was drifting through the dining hall with platters of hors d’ouvres. There were a few people mingling around the enormous dining table with drinks in their hands; he thought he recognized a couple from the earlier meeting but for the life of him could not remember their names. He managed to barely contain an eye roll before suddenly being set upon by the lady of the house herself.
“Oh Bucky, it’s absolutely wonderful to see you again!”
His mother rushed over to him and embraced him, planting a quick kiss on his cheek for good measure. Then she looked up at him and reached her hand out to cradle his head.
“Honey, we have all missed you so much. Really sweetheart—why you ever felt the need to leave is completely beyond me. But that’s all in the past now…” she maintained eye contact “…you look very healthy sweetheart. Maybe Michigan really did agree with you.” She suddenly hugged him again.
Bucky pushed her back, slightly embarrassed at the rather large display of affection. “Mom,” he grinned sheepishly, “it’s really good to see you too. I did miss you, y’know.”
She patted him on the cheek. “Well. Do come in dear. Make yourself at home…again.” She smiled and gestured behind her. “Your father is somewhere over there—I think he’s speaking with Rebecca and Steven. What a lovely couple they make! And Andrew should be floating about…”
“Mom,” Bucky interrupted. “Isn’t this whole thing a little…much? For just family I mean?” He waved over towards the string players.
“Oh honey, of course not! We do have a few different reporters here and there are quite a number of staffers dropping by. At it’s heart, it is a family dinner, but as we are announcing the run for the presidency this weekend, and we already have media trying to get the inside scoop on the Barnes Family, we extended a bit to include the ‘campaign family’. We do have an image to uphold here.”
Bucky felt himself tensing up at her words but focused on breathing steadily. “Oh. I guess I didn’t realize that we were inviting the media to events already…”He tried desperately for nonchalance as he tried to remind himself that he was no longer the Barnes family fuck-up. He was an extremely successful graduate. Who had already put in plenty of time in the capitol building in Michigan…it wasn’t as though he had no place in this family…
His mother had stopped paying attention to him. She reached out and patted his arm distractedly, “Yes, yes dear. Please excuse me for a moment—oh it really is much too early for your father to be starting in on the brandy like that…” she made to move off, and then looked back once more at Bucky and smiled. “You really do look so…healthy.”
Then she was off flitting through the servers leaving Bucky to stand awkwardly at the entrance of the room. Well shit. He really thought this was just a small family get together. Of course, he had received an elaborate gold leafed invitation in the mail weeks ago, but at the time, he had chalked it up to one of Winifred's many predilections for proper etiquette and drama. Thank God he had at least gone home and showered. He was really in no mood to deal with media yet…he had just barely gotten into town for Christ's sake and already he was going to have to put on his ‘perfect Barnes' act. He self-consciously tucked his hair behind his ear and then looked up in relief to see Rebecca waving at him from the far corner where she and Steve appeared to be hiding out. A sudden wave of relief washed over him and he managed to make it halfway there before being accosted by a serving woman.
“What can I get you to drink sir?”
“Oh. Umm…just water would be great?”
A hand suddenly clamped down hard on his shoulder and a booming voice projected throughout the room. “Better make it water for this one…Christ knows he’s the one Barnes who can’t handle his liquor!” Bucky felt the heat rising in his cheeks and he looked at the serving woman who shuffled uncomfortably.
“So…a water then…?” She maintained an uncomfortable eye contact with him through the exchange which he had to credit it her for.
“Yeah. Sure. Uh…thanks.” Bucky was acutely aware of other guests staring over at him and tried to fight down his annoyance. He mustered up that winning smile of his again and turned to face the man with the voice. “Hi Dad.”
“James! It’s good to finally see you back where you belong, eh?”
“Yes. Sir. It’s nice to be in DC again.” Bucky swallowed suddenly, his throat feeling increasingly dry. Jesus, he had all of these great things planned to say to the man, but the second his father appeared he suddenly felt like he was five all over again.
George Barnes just grinned, then clapped a hand down hard on Bucky’s shoulder and steered him over towards the table where he picked up a glass of champagne and rapped on it lightly. The small gathering all stopped their collective chatter and turned to face George Barnes.
“Hello and welcome everyone!”
A smattering of applause echoed throughout the large room.
“It is so good to see you all this evening. I am thrilled to have each and every one of you here for the first official campaign dinner celebrating our family. And on that note, I am so happy to reintroduce the long lost Barnes: please welcome James back into the DC fold!” He looked confidently around at the small group of guests gathered and gave his signature wink, “and please don’t forget to remind him just how us civilized people act. Apparently he forgot a bit while he was on his hippie retreat up North.” He grinned and as if to emphasize his point reached out and tousled Bucky’ long hair. Bucky inadvertently reached up and removed George’s hand while maintaining the steady smile. He looked across the room to Rebecca who rolled her eyes in a stunning display of exasperation while Steve looked down at the floor.
He looked back at his Dad, then reached over and picked up a glass of water from the table before speaking.
"Thanks, Dad. It is great to be back. It's amazing to see just how much has changed in five years." And just how much has stayed exactly the same. The thought surfaced unbidden, bouncing annoyingly into that small space behind his eyes. “But seriously, I couldn’t be happier to be working for this man." He let his eyes roam over the crowd, watched them hang on his every word, waiting for the moment to burst into sudden applause like good little sycophants, "to George Barnes.” He held up his glass, and immediately everyone else did too, and then they all took long drinks, and he managed to catch a faint glimmer of approval in Rebecca’s eyes and just like that the dinner started and he was content to fold surreptitiously back into the surrounding grey matter of everyone’s collective subconscious—
‘Oh yes, that was Bucky Barnes; he is kind of an unknown and he might have had issues in the past, but he sure seems to have turned it around now. But let’s be honest, he is the second Barnes son and is really just not that important.’
Bucky and Steve were once again hanging out in the Fort watching the last dregs of summer leech forth from the surrounding foliage. Bucky was lounging comfortably, back against the wall and knees pulled up to his chest, twirling the empty stem of a dandelion between his two fingers and watching Steve from the corner of his eye. Steve, for his part, was sitting cross-legged with a portfolio pad of paper resting casually in his lap and nubs of black charcoal surrounding him. Every so often he would look over at Bucky and grimace, rubbing his hand against his temple and leaving black streaks that mixed with a light sheen of sweat to slowly trickle down his pale skin.
“Really does a lot for a guy’s confidence to watch you make that face…” Bucky stated wryly. “Feeling just peachy over here buddy.”
Steve didn’t respond. He was staring down at his paper, completely oblivious to the surrounding world—lost in a reverie of smudging and shadowing and texturing and black…
“Hey. Steve.” The guy still didn’t move. Bucky exhaled and quietly scooted over to the corner, then reached out his hand and wiped a smear of black from Steve’s left cheek.
“Jeez!” Steve jumped visibly. “What the heck Buck?”
“Just making sure you were still breathing over here.” Bucky looked down at his fingers, rubbing at the sticky black charcoal left on them. “ You’ve got this crap all over your face, you know?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Steve pawed at his forehead distractedly. “Sorry—what’s up?”
“Nothin. Just got a little tired of you constantly scowling over what I can only assume is dissatisfaction with my delicate features. Hey, can I see?”
Steve grabbed the pad closer to him. “No. It’s not finished.”
Bucky backed away again. “Ok, sorry man. What are you sketching anyways? Haven’t you drawn my stunning mug enough at this point? Bet your teachers are getting real curious who the ‘gorgeous dude’ you paint constantly is…” He was still grinning wildly as he sat back against the wall again and studied Steve for a reaction.
“I can always use more practice figure drawing. And yeah, my professor actually asked me about you. She thinks I’m pretty lucky to have someone pose for me who…what did she say…looks like a young ‘James Dean’. I just told her you were some homeless dude with no social life who I picked up cheap on the side of the highway.” He grinned, then suddenly picked up a nub of charcoal and launched it at Bucky where it hit him dead center in the chest, leaving a giant smear of oily black down the front of his red t-shirt.
“Goddammit Cap—you are in for it, you little shit!" Bucky launched himself up from the side of the car and threw himself on top of Steve who quickly pushed his portfolio out of the way and jumped into the brawl with all the grace and might of a full grown Siberian Tiger. They tumbled around the dusty car kicking, and throwing playful punches and trying to force each other down into that ever elusive headlock and finally Bucky pushed Steve off in mock surrender laughing and gasping for breath all the while,
“Christ Rogers, I still remember when you were still a fifty-pound shrimp, what the hell happened man?"
and Steve was suddenly there right beside him pleased as punch,
“Ain’t puberty grand?”
and Steve laid his head down on Bucky’s shoulder in that small spot between collarbone and neck where it always fit so perfectly while Bucky reigned in his hoarse breathing and rested his cheek on the soft strands of blonde hair and grinned in contentment and tried to time his breathing to Steve’s and they sat for a small moment in perfect harmony,
“Hey, Steve?” Bucky murmured into the top of Steve’s head.
“mmm?”
“How’re you gonna keep up with your drawing at Episcopal this year?”
Steve pulled his head up slowly and leaned it back against the wall. “eh. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. It’s not like I have all those crazy academic classes to worry about like you do. My class load is pretty simple.”
Bucky grunted in agreement. “Yeah, but are you still planning on going out for football and all that?”
“Yeah,” Steve nodded, “But, it’s not like I’ll make varsity this year. Should only take up my afternoons. I’m going to keep taking classes online through the University over the weekends, so I’ll just have to put in the time then, and maybe in the mornings.”
“Huh.” Bucky suddenly reached out and playfully punched Steve. “You going to have any time for me at all man?” He asked as though it were a rhetorical question, but he could already feel his heart starting to wage war in his chest and though he dreaded any answer, he waited in anticipation.
Steve looked surprised, as though he had never even thought of the possibility that they would no longer have time to be together. “Of course! Of course I’ll have time for you.” He considered the question again for a moment while Bucky struggled to control his breathing. Then a small grin spread across his face. “You are my sidekick after all—the great Bucky Barnes!”
Bucky snorted in response. “Great. You make me sound like your faithful steed.”
Steve giggled. "And I shall ride thee into the sunset on to battle and adventure forever more! Or…something…heck that sounded really bad…"
Bucky just grinned. “Forever more Steve.”
Bucky managed to make it the rest of the way through the dinner without any more awkward speeches, bizarre family reunions, or idle small talk. He found himself seated at the end of the table furthest from his father and the local media minions and was actually pleased to be amongst Rebecca and Steve. The entire affair seemed so incredibly staged and ridiculous—he couldn’t believe these journalists couldn’t see right through his conniving manipulative parents who were obviously putting on the “Welcome to the Barnes Family: Perfection at its Finest” show but he happily stayed out of the limelight and as the dinner closed found himself actually having some semblance of a decent time.
He found himself at the end of the line of people trying to get out the door and back to their busy evenings and almost escaped completely unnoticed until he felt his mother’s hand on his arm, pulling him back into the hall.
“James,” she spoke severely, “just where do you think you are running off to?”
“Uh, I have a lot of work to get done before the meetings tomorrow Mom. Just thought I would try to head off. Thirty-minute commute and all?" He spoke plaintively, desperately trying not to get sucked in to the inevitable Barnes family peacock festival, where each member would talk loudly over the other frantic to get their point of view across, to prove that they, no THEY were the most successful Barnes, to one-up each other until all hours of the night with bottles of brandy disappearing at alarming rates…
“Really Bucky. It is time for you all to catch up. Do come upstairs to the sitting room. Your father is getting out the brandy as we speak,”
He groaned internally. There it was.
“And we do SO want to hear about Michigan. Go on, go on.”
She tutted him towards the stairs; the perfect mother hen. Christ he needed a better analogy for these people. Peacocks at least were pretty to look at; Barnes family members were just nasty once they had been drinking.
Well. Nothing for it. "Yes Mom. See you up there." He tried to keep the dismay from leaking over into his voice. There was no way he had another minute of ‘fake Bucky Barnes smile’ left in him, so ‘alarmingly smoldering scowl’ was going to have to do as a filler. He trudged his way up the second flight of stairs and entered the small sitting room on his right to see George and Andrew who were already deep in conversation with Rebecca and Steve sitting discreetly to the side.
“I’m just saying, Dad. The polling numbers coming out of New Hampshire and Iowa right now aren’t looking strong in favor of someone who holds your extremely tough conservative views. We might consider backing off on the whole gay marriage thing for a bit…I know, I know that is one of your talking points. I’m not saying we drop it—we just leave it for the next few months and possibly reach out to a few of the more moderate senators for their support—before waging war again.”
“I’m not dropping the issue Andrew, no, don’t even get me started again on that damn repeal, oh and speak of the Devil,” he suddenly glanced up at Bucky standing awkwardly in the doorframe, “It’s the mighty traitor himself come to lend his two cents…” He held up his almost empty glass to Bucky who felt his ears starting to burn as the inevitable redness crept up the back of his neck.
“Way to start in on that again Dad.” he mumbled softly.
“No, no,” George continued, “I’d just love your views on the subject now that you accepted a job working for my campaign.” He looked expectantly at Bucky who wished more than anything at that moment that a sinkhole would suddenly open up where he was standing and swallow him into the depths of the earth where he would happily converse freely with Beelzebub himself because the horned dude with a pitchfork and tail would probably be more welcoming than George Barnes. He snuck a glance over at Rebecca and Steve who were both gaping at the three men and doing nothing at all to help ease him out of this shit storm of a topic.
“Jesus Dad. Lay off him. It was five years ago, the bill is passed, done and over, move on.” Andrew spoke up with disdain. “You’re the one that hired him for the campaign, at least give him a fucking chance.”
George’s eyes narrowed as he looked over Bucky, then gestured to the empty chair next to him and the half drank bottle of brandy. “Sit. Please. Regale us with stories from the North. Stay a while. And for fucks sake, now that there aren’t any reporters around to see you, have a drink.”
Bucky moved hesitantly into the lounge chair next to his father and briefly eyed the liquor. “Nice to see you again too Dad.”
“So, son. Now that I have welcomed you back into the fold with open arms—”
Bucky almost snorted in incredulity. Christ, the man had a penchant for dramatics. Apparently Rebecca really did come well by it…
“Do tell us about your happy little excursion to the land of the granola hippie liberals.”
Bucky took a deep breath and focused entirely on relaxing his hands which were fighting to start ripping pieces of stuffing out from the armchair.
“Dad, come on,” Rebecca piped up from the corner. “You know as well as any of us that the University of Michigan is just as widely a respected and renowned institution as Yale. He worked just as hard as you, or Andrew, or any other Barnes for his degree…”
“Ah, must be nice…” George cut her off waving his hand in the air, “to still have your baby sister defending you after all these years…”
“Dad,” Bucky spoke, “honestly, how much have you had to drink already?” The man didn’t usually get quite this nasty unless he was well on his way through a bottle.
“Oh. Says the damn alcoholic son.”
Bucky flinched.
"Twenty-three years old and already throwing your life down the toilet."
“Well Dad,” he emphasized the word with a snarl, “you know I only learned from the best….”
“Jesus Christ you two, just quit it for fuck’s sake!” Andrew was suddenly out of his chair. “Dad, you invited him back. You. So move on, put the past behind you, and stop being an asshole.” He turned to face Bucky. “And Bucky. You work for the man. You are here in D.C. again so you obviously want to go somewhere with your career. Stop antagonizing him and grow up!”
Bucky stiffened and nodded slowly while watching Andrew sit down again.
“Now,” Andrew eyed George again. “Next topic please.”
George grinned at Andrew and nodded his agreement. “Right you are my boy, right you are,” and Bucky felt himself just recoil in loathing and venom was spurting through his veins and God the whole thing was so unfair, it was always so unfair…he was seriously putting himself out there right now, could George not see that? He came crawling back on hands and knees, practically eating out of the hand of the bastard, but no matter what he did Andrew would always be the perfect son.
He pulled himself out of his own self-loathing pity fest just in time to hear George start in on Steve.
“So then my dear boy, you know I have always been so thrilled with your exemplary focus on our strong commitment to family values, but now I do have to wonder, what exactly are your intentions towards my daughter?”
Bucky bit the side of his cheek hard in shock and managed to hold back a grin. Looked like the second son wasn’t the only one who was in the line of fire tonight. He looked up and watched Steve flounder, suddenly put incredibly on the spot by the man he so admired, and finding no words at all.
The silence just echoed in the room around them and Steve looked almost hilariously frightened.
“Come on Dad,” Rebecca finally spoke up, putting her hand possessively on Steve’s knee. “We’re twenty-one, at least give us a year or two.” She smiled charmingly and George seemed content to drop the subject.
The five of them managed to keep conversation civilized for the next hour when Rebecca finally spoke up and suggested that she go check on Winifred, asking Steve to help. Bucky watched them longingly as they left through the open door and then sat uncomfortably trying to fill in bits and pieces of conversation with his father and Andrew who were suddenly deeply involved in a loud debate over the ethics of the current tax reform George was proposing.
“Oh hey, Dad,” he spoke up suddenly and George and Andrew both turned to him. “I um, I just wanted to mention that I spent the last few weeks running numbers and I have a few reports I’d love to run by you that I think could help with the disbursement of public funds as well as save a few—”
“Sure, sure James.” George cut him off and turned back to Andrew where they continued their conversation, turning now to leading Republican Senators who might be willing to lend their support to the campaign especially for a few political favors here and there.
Bucky stood up irritably.
“Well, see you then.”
Neither even looked his way.
The thing was, Bucky was dreading Steve being at Episcopal. Steve was one of those instantly popular kids. Now that he had hit his growth spurt, he was not only tall and handsome, but an athlete and killer artist to boot. He was going to be completely surrounded by obnoxious jock douche bags who wanted to be friends with the current ‘it' boy and he would constantly be followed by flocks of freshman girls who would drool all over him, and press themselves up against him, and accidentally brush in to him next to his locker, and demand all of his attention…
Bucky didn't come up with this all on his own. Rebecca had kindly informed him the night before classes started that ‘by the way, your friend Steve? Oh my God, he is a total babe and all the girls are going to fight to the death trying to get just a smile from him, and can you just spread it around maybe kind of that I, like, hang out with you guys all the time?”
Steve was naïve. Though Bucky had slowly been trying his best to corrupt him over their summers spent together, Steve was still at heart a good Catholic boy and he wasn’t ready for all the insane drama that was boarding school territory. He was going to get sucked in, and spit back out, and if he even remembered Bucky’s name at the end of the whole process it was going to be a frickin’ miracle.
He was really trying to not feel sorry for himself here. He didn’t really care that much about the whole popularity game. The girls still liked him well enough up at school—he still had the whole ‘dark misunderstood soul wrapped in an enigma’ thing going for him so that worked to his advantage. But the jocks were all total assholes and went out of their way to make his life miserable. And Steve was trying out for the football team. And would make it on, no problems whatsoever. So Steve would officially be a jock. Ergo, Steve would hate on Bucky.
Ok, that was ridiculous. Steve was a good guy, he wasn’t going to just turn in to some giant douchebag ‘pick on the rich Barnes kid loser’ cause it’s great sport. But that didn’t mean they were going to stay friends.
And so it was that Bucky Barnes spent the last night of summer biting his nails down to bloody stumps, and sweating through his sheets, and cursing God for ever introducing him to Steve fucking ‘Cap’ Rogers.
Bucky walked down the hallway pissed at the world. Fuck George Barnes. Why the hell would he even bother coming back to this hell hole when that man was going to be involved in his life? Oh Christ he needed a drink…
He heard arguing from around the corner.
He stopped suddenly as he recognized the voices as Rebecca and Steve. Shit. He really shouldn’t listen in. That kind of made him a total dick wad of a human being,
“Jesus! Do you have any fucking idea what it means to be dating the future Presidents’ daughter Steve?”
Well that didn’t sound good. Wasn’t like he could exactly appear from around the corner now. He could hear Steve mumble some sort of reply, and then Rebecca was yelling again.
“I’m not asking you to marry me right now! I have absolutely no desire to be married right now! All I am asking is that you sure as hell better be serious about this! There is no way I am going through a public breakup now…now that the fucking media are involved and all over the place and scoping out every movement I make—”
“I’m sorry Rebecca!”
Steve’s voice now.
“He put me completely on the spot—I just froze up—you know how I feel about us…”
Rebecca laughed a bit hysterically. “Hard to tell Steve. Really. Hard to tell. You didn’t have to tell him we were getting married tomorrow. Just…stand up for me even a little! You’re going to have press in your face for the next seven months! If you don’t have intentions, then you sure as hell better let me know now, and then suck it up and get through the rest of this campaign. That’s all I’m asking. Pretend for half a year that you care, then do whatever you want.”
“Rebecca, it’s not like that! I just…I couldn’t think straight, he was looking right at me!”
Rebecca sighed—a loud echoing sound that seemed to bounce eternally through the hall. “I’m sorry. Being around him stresses me out, and sets me off. But you need to realize. You have to think about everything you do and say now. Everything. Just think about it, Steve.”
Bucky heard footsteps down the hall. He sighed. Looked like he wasn’t the only one having a rough night. He stepped out from around the corner planning to sneak down the stairs for his coat and get the hell out of here,
Steve was still standing there looking forlorn.
“Oh…shit,” Bucky exclaimed, then clapped his hand over his mouth feeling like a complete idiot. One set of footsteps. Not two. Idiot!
“Hey Buck. You hear all of that?” Steve looked completely dejected.
“Uh….yeah man. Sorry. Totally wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, just kind of got stuck back there around the corner…” Bucky fumbled awkwardly.
“Ehh. Not my best night.”
“Uh…right. Well, at least you aren’t quite as low on the totem pole as I still am apparently…” Bucky smiled shyly up at Steve.
“Well. Leave it to the ‘Cap’ and his sidekick to be the odd men out, right?” Steve grinned. “Hey, you want to go grab a beer or something?” His face suddenly fell again, “Oh shit. I’m sorry…that was…not cool…”
"No, it's totally fine. You think I have no self-control at all? I'd be totally up to whoop your ass in a game of pool if you think you're up for it."
Steve shot back that winning smile, and Bucky felt his heart nearly burst from his chest in a spectacular display of athleticism and Steve threw his arm around Bucky’ shoulders and led them both from the house.