Natasha pursed her lips for what seemed like the third time as she watched Steve correct Bucky whilst carving pumpkins. The man's metal arm was slathered in pumpkin guts, and Steve kept correcting him o the angle of each cut he made in order to form the perfect pair of triangle eyes.
Quite frankly, it was tiring to watch.
"Okay! Okay!" Natasha watched as Bucky gripped the carving knife so tightly in his grasp, his metal fingers looked about to dent from the force. The look in his eyes said that while he was annoyed, he was grateful, and she could' help notice his gaze dar to meet hers every so often as he worked.
Hopefully it's for the pumpkin carving tips, Natasha thought, chuckling to herself as Steve gave up yet again, turning back to his own makeshift orange face. Bucky bent over his own, and Natasha let her eyes trail over the hard muscle in his arm. The way his jawline clenched…. he was so concentrated his veins started jutting out of his neck. As he bent forward, she scowled.
Bucky's brown hair, which he hadn't bothered to cut, was a curtain, obscuring his piercing blue eyes from view.
"You okay Nat?" Sam asked, making the secret agent jump as her coworker materialized beside her, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over a barrel of a chest. The seams of his white t-shirt seemed to scream to be ripped apart, they couldn't contain the gloriousness underneath. Natasha shrugged.
Sometimes it was hard, being the only girl in the group. But it definitely was one of the better decisions she had made since joining S.H.I.E.L.D.
"It's just Bucky," she bit her lip, annoyance clear on her tongue. Sam shot a glance over at the Russian spy, watching as he shakily tried to neatly carve a mouth. Steve was also watching, his blue eyes filled with concern.
"He seems to be doing okay," Sam commented, "what's the issue?" The two watched as Steve went to help Bucky once more, Bucky wrenching the knife away only to drive it deep through the top of the pumpkin. Natasha and Sam shared knowing smiles as Steve began to freak out:
"Buck, you gotta be careful!"
Bucky was stoic as he answered, "What?"
"You could have cut yourself!" was Steve's whine, receiving an eye roll from the other man.
"I think I know how to wield a knife, Steve."
It felt good to see Bucky like this. After everything that happened, he was shell-shocked; almost unresponsive to anything she or Steve did. Once he did start talking though, he was a regular chatterbox.
Natasha smiled, her mind going back to when Steve had first introduced them properly. He was a nice guy, if not a little nervous. And he was messy too- his brown locks reached a little past his shoulders, but she always thought it looked good on him.
"Do you think we should tell them to stop now?" Sam broke through her thoughts, making her jump as she was pushed back into reality, "Huh?" Sam pointed. Natasha followed his finger.
The two super-soldiers were smothered with orange guts and white seeds, Steve dodging a mushy ball of orangey-white goo Bucky was throwing his way. It landed with a loud squish against the wall. Hesitantly, Steve picked his head up, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed. Natasha thought his smile was going to rip his face in half, it was so big, his teeth two rows of perfect pearls.
"You missed!" Steve grinned, receiving a chuckle from Bucky.
"Bet you a second time I won't!" he challenged, and Sam could only groan, nudging her with an elbow.
"Well?" he asked, "should we stop them or what?" Natasha sighed, giving Sam a confused look before realizing just how much cleaning she'd have to do when Steve and Bucky were done. Rolling her eyes, she sauntered over to the table, leaning with her hands on the hard wood.
"Guys it's either you finish these, or Sam's going to kick us out," she suggested. Both men picked up their heads suddenly, Steve grunting as he pushed himself up from his crouching position.
"Well, if that's the case then why not?" Steve cracked his knuckles as he picked up his knife once again, "Sam you wanna help me finish?" The Falcon shook his head as he joined them at the table.
"If it means you guys finish turning my kitchen into a war zone, then sure," he replied, placing his hands firmly on top of Steve's pumpkin, anchoring it to the table. Natasha crossed her arms, jutting out a hip as she leaned forward with her hips against the edge of the table, cocking her head nonchalantly, watching as Bucky picked up his carving knife and silently went to work.
She was acutely aware of him stealing little glances in her direction between carvings. Pumpkin shavings littered the table and the floor. Natasha simply pursed her lips, watching the three men work. Steve and Sam look just about finished, Bucky struggling to catch up.
Natasha blew stray strands of her red hair out of her face- how long did it take to carve a damn pumpkin?! She watched Bucky lean over his pumpkin, and Natasha clenched her fingers as his hair fell in his face once more.
One minute she was standing at the table, the next minute she found herself sidling up to him, pulling a hair tie from somewhere on her person, slender fingers reaching for his hair.
The minute Natasha let her fingers brush the strands, she felt Bucky freeze, his shoulders tend, muscles rigid. His jaw was clenched until Natasha was sure he was grinding his teeth to nubs in his mouth.
But she ignored his reactions, instead focusing on how the light caught the brown strands of his hair as she pulled it in her hands, how soft it was against her skin. As she held the ends in a clump in her hand, she saw a trail of stubble on his cheek.
"Isn't that better?" she asked, rubbing his shoulders once she finished tucking his hair into a half-bun atop his head. Bucky licked his lips, going back to carving his pumpkin. As he worked, Natasha could see his eyes flit back and forth until he swiped at the orange exterior with a grand flourish.
"Finished."
Steve and Sam had left the room at this point, having finished carving Steve's pumpkin. Natasha examined it. It looked like something a five year old could have made, if she was being completely honest with herself. She let her gaze slide over to Bucky's.
"Oh…" she whispered under her breath, placing her hands gently on the table, red hair falling in her face as she leaned over it. Now she understood why Bucky had kept staring at her whilst carving.
He had created a likeness of her in the meat, using the blade to sculpt what could envy even Michealangelo- or was it Da Vinci? Natasha shook her head; there was no use comparing the three. Soft lines created strands of hair, smoothed surfaces were her cheeks and lips. Biting her lip, Natasha looked at him, then at the pumpkin, then back at him.
"And here I thought Steve was the art student," she giggled, feeling her lips pull into a broad grin. Bucky averted his eyes, stiffening when he suddenly found Natasha throwing her arms around him in a bear hug. Natasha sighed as he hesitantly returned the favor, his metal arm cool against her back through the fabric of her sweater.
When they broke apart, his face was red, and he looked down one more.
"Sorry," he mumbled, daring to look up once more, a puppy caught tearing apart the pillows. Natasha shrugged her shoulders, face burning as it was her turn to cast her eyes down, her peripheral vision tunneled with red hair as it fell once again in her face.
"Hey."
Natasha let her laughter peter out as Bucky then took the ends of her hair in his hands, pulling it up around her head, and she suddenly found his chest a few inches from her face. His arms were wrapped around her, and she could feel his fingers tangling up in he hair.
"Bucky, what are you-" she began to ask, until Bucky pulled away, nodding his head with content.
"Isn't that better?" he asked. Natasha raised an eyebrow, reaching behind her to see what he had done. Wisps of red framed her face, and she lightly touched her hair to find Bucky had made an attempt to tie her hair out of her face. The man's own hair was messy- Natasha admittedly was not the best hairdresser on the planet.
"Yeah," she smiled, "yeah, it is."
They could hear Steve and Sam arguing in the living room- most likely about who was the better hero or something, Natasha figured- as she lowered herself into Bucky's chair, admiring his pumpkin while he reached out once more to play with the ends of her hair.