Chapter 1: Romeo, Oh Romeo
It was hot as hell in the Florida summer. Bucky Barnes had been the only person under 60 in the apartment complex for the last week. Or so he thought. His grandmother was taking her daily 2 o'clock nap and Bucky was enjoying some peace and quiet on the balcony with no one around to see his shirtless self. Just as Bucky had settled into his seat with his phone, a piercing scream caused his head to whip up and searing pain to shoot up his neck.
The source of the interruption turned out to be a boy, no taller than 5'4" and no older than 14. He was standing, rather prancing, around the balcony of the opposite building, two stories above Bucky's balcony. He was scrawny and blond and not unattractive (no, stop it, Bucky), with eyes so startlingly blue that Bucky could see them from 30 ft away. But the thing that really got Bucky's attention was the dress. The hot fucking pink princess gown. The boy coughed loudly and shrieked again.
Not one to be interrupted from his precious Instagram, Bucky yelled at the boy, "What the fuck is your issue, kid? Think anyone wants to hear your dying cat imitation?" The kid ignored him and continued to yodel at the top of his lungs, every voice crack sending a shudder down Bucky's spine. "Shut the fuck up!"
That got the kid's attention. He smiled innocently down at Bucky and replied politely, "Is something the matter, sir?"
"Something is definitely the matter! You sing like my hamster but at least at he could sing on key!"
"Gee thanks, mister," the kid switched into a southern drawl out of nowhere, coughing at the end of his sentence.
"Whatever," Bucky growled, his mood completely ruined. He grabbed his shirt off the railing and headed back inside, being sure to slam the door shut.
Bucky approached the balcony with caution the next day, making certain Swiss princess was nowhere in sight. He settled into his seat with a sigh and dozed off, only to be rudely awakened by an off-key rendition of Beyoncé's Halo. "Ya know, you may be able to see my halo but all I can see are your devil horns!"
"Good afternoon to you too, James."
Bucky's head whipped up for the second time in two days. "How the fuck do you know my name?"
"My gram told me."
"Well don't ever call me that."
The boy smirked. "Then what should I call ya?" he coughed in a spot-on Irish accent.
"Nothing!"
The boy didn't even pretend to look offended. Instead he stroked his imaginary beard and said, "How 'bout Romeo?"
Bucky growled. The blond put on the most fake British accent possible and called in a high-pitched voice, "Romeo, oh Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy bitchiness and refuse thy idiocy!"
"Shut your trap or so help me God I will shut it for you!"
"A mouth by any other name sings just as sweet, Romeo."
So that's how it's going to be, Bucky thought.
"If I'm Romeo then you must be Juliet." He had every intention of offending the blond.
The boy barked out a short laugh followed by a hack. "Suits me fine! Dresses are more comfortable anyway. You ought to try-" He was cut off by Bucky slamming the door once more.
A week passed before Bucky even dared to venture onto the balcony again. After assuring Juliet's (suspicious) absence, he began to doze of in his chair... before being unceremoniously yanked out of slumber by the oh so familiar screech that was Juliet's voice. "Romeo, darling, you've returned!"
Bucky groaned internally. "I worried Lord Montague had found out our secret!"
The older man huffed and turned away, determined to ignore the bastard. "I'm Steve, by the way. Just so you don't have to keep calling me Juliet."
"Juliet sounds better."
"How old are you? I'm guessing early twenties, fresh out of community college and jobless."
"I'm ignoring you, Juliet." Bucky felt childish uttering those words but he didn't care.
"Probably an art major, or even better, a music major," he giggled, trying to stifle a cough.
"I said, I'm ignoring you."
"A useless major for a useless bum."
"Well at least I'm not a sick fourteen-year-old that takes great pleasure in torturing his neighbor!"
That statement sent Juli- Steve into peals of laughter, mixed in with muffled hacking. "You think I'm fourteen! That's hilarious, Romeo."
Bucky was completely lost. "Aren't you?"
"I'm twenty-two!" More hysterical giggles and coughing.
"You're joking."
"I wish," Steve responded ruefully. "Then maybe I could explain away the shortness."
"Damn. That makes me feel slightly less creepy about finding you attractive," Bucky commented dryly.
Steve put his hand over his heart in mock surprise. "Sir Bitchface has a sense of humor!"
Bucky tried his hardest to block out Steve's uncontrollable laughter. "How'd you know I was sick, Romeo? Maybe you're paying more attention to me than you realize?"
"Oh, please!" the brunette retorted. "It's hard to ignore your squeaky-ass voice."
"I've been sick for as long as I can remember. Makes life hard for a struggling actor like me."
Steve was the first to leave this time, leaving Bucky to ponder two new pieces of information: Steve being an actor and his odd habit of revealing too much information to men he barely knew.
Bucky came to a conclusion the next day. He wasn't going to let that scrawny asshole ruin the rest of his summer. This, whatever it was, ended today. So when Steve announced his presence with a shrill, "Romeo, my forbidden lover!" Bucky simply turned his cheek and ignored him.
"Dost Lord Montague not permit you to speak to me?"
No response.
"Romeo?"
Nothing.
"James, c'mon."
"I'm sorry?"
"James, please."
"Jamesy," Steve whined. Bucky couldn't help but crack a minuscule smile at the sweet, sweet sound of Steve begging for mercy.
"I miss your bitchiness, Jamesy."
"Talk to me!"
"Jaaaames."
Every word the smaller man spoke cracked Bucky's resolve just a little more.
"You know you love me, James."
Bucky finally responded with a grin-laced "Suck my dick."
"Bet you'd like that," Steve said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"You wish," the brunette scoffed.
"I do indeed."
Bucky laughed for the first time in, well, a long time. Steve laughed with him, finally getting to hear how beautiful Bucky's joy was.
"You've got a nice laugh, James. You oughtta use it more often." Steve offered the other man a genuine smile.
"Thanks," Bucky replied, uncertain of the proper response to an obvious flirtation. Unwanted flirtation.
Steve took that as a cue to flirt some more. "A voice like that, I bet you make some gorgeous sounds in the bedroom," he said, half joking. Only half.
"Uh…" Bucky tried to mask his discomfort.
"Fuck me, Steve! Harder!" Steve's rendition of Bucky was high-pitched and girly.
"Steve…"
"Right there, Steve!"
"Please stop…" Bucky tried hard to suppress his anger.
"Oh god!"
Bucky finally snapped. "Listen up, fag," he snarled. "I don't take too kindly to little queers poisoning my airspace so I'd shut the fuck up if I were you."
Steve's eyes widened in momentary horror before turning ice cold, devoid of any emotion. "And here I thought we were making progress," he snapped.
The door slammed so hard Bucky thought it would shatter. He didn't think he'd ever felt the amount of overwhelming guilt he felt in that moment. "Shit."