Bucky Barnes was in crisis.

This time, its not because his roommate and best friend is giving him grief, or that his dad is being a dick or his mom is sick again. If the crisis was anything like that, he would be fully equipped to deal with the situation, as he had many times before.

To be quite honest, he would have preferred all of that to this alternative. He would prefer that everyone just assume Natasha was his girlfriend and they lived together because they loved each other, and not for the ease of renting an apartment in New York City. He wished that this crisis was something that he could tell his parents about, really he wished that he could tell someone that wasn't Natasha, but that would be far too dangerous.

Steve Rogers, a little scrawny kid in his third music theory class of his undergraduate at NYU, was the root of the problem. When Bucky had seen him the first time, he didn't think much of Steve, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he felt himself slipping. Steve was so incredibly intelligent, and his eloquence with words was remarkable. This tiny man, who only came to Bucky's chin when standing straight, elicited feelings in Bucky that terrified him.

Five years later, Steve was the newest classical sensation, shouldering a Master's Degree in piano performance, as well as crowds into the thousands at every concert. Natasha held a pair of tickets in her hand. This was the crisis.

"Ever heard of him? One of the girls at the restaurant gave them to me." The petite woman shrugged and laughed, "I know you like this classical shit so I took them off her hands."

Oh dear God. "Um, yeah I think so."

"Good. I already made arrangements for you at the studio, so you're off the hook for work."

"Tasha, does this have anything to do with that guy you work with? You seem a bit...eager."

Natasha blinked rapidly. "No. Of course not. Why would it?"

Bucky snorted. He was completely aware of Natasha's long standing crush on her manager at work. He seemed like a nice guy, down to earth and all that, but somehow she never had the guts to approach him in five years of working under him.

He really wanted to tell her that she was incredibly badass while still being the most wonderful person he knew. She shouldn't be afraid to take a risk with Clint. Bucky had seen the pair together; he was definitely into her, but she adamantly refused every time he tried to coax her into telling him how much she really liked him. At this point, he had given up. They both were long out of high school and this juvenile shit had gone on too long.

"Oh, I just wondered, because he's coming over for drinks tonight. I want to try out my new drink mixer."

Natasha's cheeks turned a startling shade of red, nearly matching her hair. Bucky winked at her, and that seemed to be the icing on the cake. Moments later, she stormed out of the room like a tiny, fiery hurricane.

Bucky huffed a sigh, and proceeded to collapse on the couch. He felt bad, honestly, but it was time for Natasha to suck it up and get over it. It's only fair, seeing as she's making him face one of his greatest demons.

Steve wrung his hands, glancing nervously around the green room of the auditorium. Everything in his body screamed at him to calm the fuck down, but he couldn't. There was something about returning home after being away for so long that shook him to his core. As the house opened, filling with a swell of laughter and audience members engaging in idle chatter, Steve began to feel something he couldn't quite place. The feeling, similar to nerves in nature, was as equally distracting as it was intimidating. He hadn't been this wrecked before a performance since college.

The lights dimmed. The single spotlight danced around the house before settling on the bench of the beautiful grand piano. This was, and always had been countless times before, his cue.

The young man stepped onto the stage and into the spotlight. In this moment, he was not the scrawny little boy from Brooklyn. No, right now, Steven Grant Rogers, was a confident, world renowned pianist. Size and stature meant nothing on stage. Hands and piano keys were all that mattered now. He smiled and nodded at the audience, thankful for their applause, as he set his attention on the black and ivory keys he knew so well.

Steve had always felt free on stage. His fingers waltzed over the keys. Memory seemingly abandoned, as if all instruction was in the very fabric of his being. His performances seemed to flash by his senses, and before he knew it, this one was over. Steve stood to give a quick bow before exiting the stage, anxious to meet his fans in the lobby of the theater.

Bucky could feel Natasha's gaze searing into the side of his head as he watched Steve perform. It was mesmerizing. Clearly, he had gotten over his performance anxiety since college. On multiple occasions, Natasha had to place a hand on his knee to keep him from wildly cheering.

There was really something about the way Steve played the piano that seemed to settle deep within Bucky, leaving all other feeling behind. This terrified him. He longed to feel this way forever, wishing this performance would never end. Unfortunately, two hours was all he had.

The final, resonate chord brought Bucky to his feet, clapping and whistling with reckless abandon. Classical manners be damned, he wanted to give his all in appreciation for such a wonderful performance. His entire being was completely and utterly captivated by the extraordinary musician.

The house lights rose, and he could finally see Natasha and her shit eating grin. "You know him, don't you?" Her smile softened to something less mischievous. "I can see it. I've never seen you look at someone like that."

Bucky swallowed thickly and looked back at her, sucking on his lip in chagrin. "Yeah. We were friends in college for a little while before we lost touch."

"Just friends?" Natasha's smile fell into a snort. "Looks more like a big gay crush to me, Mr. I'm-So-Macho-I-Would-Barbeque-A-Football."

He pawed once at her shoulder, knocking her the tiniest bit off balance. "Shut up."

"You should go see him. Apparently he waits out in the lobby to meet the people who come to his shows."

"I - I don't know Tasha...It's been a long time and I don't think he'll remember me and I just - "

"Oh no excuses. Bucky, please. I'll never forgive you if you just walk out of here without a word to him." Her green eyes soft with unusual sincerity.

Bucky took a deep breath. "Okay. But it's only because I love you, and because you could probably kill me in my sleep."

She flashed a winning grin at him. "Damn straight. And, for the record, it's only because I care."

He scoffed and started towards the center aisle, "Sure you do. And if I can't use excuses, neither can you. Will you finally do something about Clint?"

She huffed, "Fine. I will do something about Clint if you do something about your gay crush out in the lobby."

"Fine."

"Fine." The pair smiled and walked into the ornate lobby, suddenly crowded by a mass of people.

The next chapter should be up in a few days! I have the first few written already, so I would love to continue if I receive positive feedback on this one! I should be able to update regularly, so this should go somewhere. Thank you all for reading, and all the love to my beta Kayla, who is one of my best friends and biggest supporters.

xoxo,

Tali

P.S. find me on tumblr, twitter, and archive of our own: winterscaptain