The Chronicles of Ikea
by
ghostlywhitedirewolf
AN: I'm not sure what happened here, but I saw a post on tumblr and then this happened. Oops. It started out fluffy and then dissolved into angst and hurt/comfort, sorry not sorry. My next one-shot will be deliberately angsty because that's where my strength lies. I've written a few light hearted, fluffy fics in a row and I always feel like I fail horrendously at them. (I'm not a natural comic.)
Come say hi on my tumblr: ghostlywhitedirewolf
Steve frowned as his phone rang, the noise shrill and sudden in the silence of his apartment. He pulled it up to check the caller ID, blinking the sleep out of his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision as he focused on the name flashing across the screen. How had he fallen asleep? He knew that they hadn't had much sleep last night, the nightmares being his this time, rather than Bucky's, but he hadn't felt tired.
"Hey Buck, are you okay?" Steve asked, trying not to sound as worried as he felt.
It was Bucky's first trip out on his own without Steve or Sam or anyone else accompanying him and Steve couldn't deny that he had been like a mother on their child's first day of school, hovering and checking that Bucky was sure.
"Hey, Steve. I'm real sorry and I know you're gonna be mad because you didn't want me to go today, but I need you to come and help me. Well, no, not help. I need you to come get me." Bucky's voice at the other end of the phone sounded deceptively calm, the kind of calm that he was after being stressed. The forced calm that came when he was trying not to panic Steve.
"I'm not mad Bucky, what's wrong? Where are you?" Steve threw himself off the sofa, reaching for his keys and wallet before heading towards the elevator of Avengers tower.
Bucky didn't answer, but the phone line crackled as though he is moving.
"Would you like me to run a tracer on Sergeant Barnes' phone, Captain Rogers?" Steve heard JARVIS offer as he walked.
"Please, JARVIS. Bucky, are you okay?" Steve repeatedly pressed the elevator button, listening to the breathing on the other end of the phone.
"Steve, I'm lost. I don't know what happened, I just wanted to pick up something for the apartment so I called Clint and he said to go here because it wasn't too far from where I was and I came in and now I can't find the exit." Bucky snorted, half in embarrassment and half frustration.
"Okay, Buck, what's the shop called?" Steve asked, the elevator finally reaching their floor.
He jumped in as the door opened, quickly pressing the down button.
"I don't know, I can't remember, god Steve, I'm sorry. Shit – I can't remember." Bucky replied.
"Are you okay though? JARVIS is pinging your phone, so just stay where you are." Steve told him, the trip down to the ground floor seeming endless as Steve shuffled worriedly from one foot to the other, racking his brain for somewhere big enough that Bucky could get so lost in.
"Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes appears to be in IKEA, Sir." JARVIS' voice informed him, the AI sounding almost amused at this.
"Bucky, is that where you are? Are you IKEA?" Steve asked, the feeling of hysterical relief almost too much.
"Yeah, that sounds about right."
Steve can't contain the snort of laughter that escaped him, the snort escalating into a fit of giggles.
"What are you laughing at? This is not funny. I've been walking around for at least an hour and I can't find my way out of here and when I went to ask one of the kids who works here, they disappeared around a corner and I don't know where they went." Bucky huffed indignantly and Steve could picture the expression of irritation on his face.
"I can't believe you went to IKEA. There are half a million nice little furniture shops that you could have gone to and you chose IKEA, the most obnoxious one of them all. Bucky, no one can go to IKEA and not get lost. I'm pretty sure the older employees started working there as teenagers and just never found their way out again. Half of the missing persons reports people file are probably people who went into IKEA for a lamp and just never managed to get out." Steve walked over to one of Tony's cars and jumped in, making his way out of the underground garage and heading up onto the street.
The call paused whilst his phone transferred to the Bluetooth within the car but he could still hear Bucky's irritated mumblings about his predicament and his wish to kill Clint.
Steve chuckled despite himself and rolled his eyes at his best friend. "Just stay where you are, Buck. What section are you in?"
"How the fuck am I supposed to know? There are beds and then some weird egg shaped thing."
"A pod chair?"
"A fucking-what chair?" Bucky asked, sounding bemused.
"Never mind; I know which section you're in. I'll be there in as soon as I can. Are you okay though?" Steve asked, still feeling the need to make sure. All joking aside, this could have ended badly if Bucky had gone fully into panic mode at not knowing where he was.
He knew that Bucky didn't like having his power and control taken away from him, still feeling as though he needed to regulate everything. His need to micromanage Steve returning in full force, despite Steve no longer needing to wear three jackets when he left the house to remain healthy.
"I'm fine, Steve. I just want to get out of here. I can't look at another fluffy pink comforter, okay? I'm not panicking any more and I just need to go home. This was a bad idea. I'm sorry." Bucky's voice quietened at the end of his speech, causing Steve to press harder on the accelerator of the car, his tone suggesting that he wasn't quite as okay as he was insinuating.
Tony could deal with any speeding tickets; he just needed to get to Bucky.
"I'm five minutes away from IKEA now, Buck and then I'll come find you." Steve told him, glancing quickly up at a road sign and cursing silently as a traffic light up ahead changed to red, forcing him to slow the car.
Bucky didn't reply.
"This wasn't a bad idea, okay Bucky. Are you listening to me?" Steve paused, "hey, Bucky? Are you still there?"
"M'here." Bucky mumbled.
"What did you want from IKEA?" Steve asked, letting out a breath and slamming the car into drive as the lights changed to amber, trying to distract Bucky from thinking about his self professed failures.
"I wanted– it's stupid." Bucky broke off and Steve knew that he was shaking his head, angry at himself.
"It won't be stupid." Steve told him trying to reassure Bucky, seeing the IKEA sign appear and turning right into the car park.
"I'm right outside Bucky, just five me a few minutes and I'll be there. Are you still in the same place?"
"Yeah. Still looking at a fluffy pink comforter."
Steve pulled haphazardly into a parking space and climbed out of the car, heading towards the entrance, scanning the directions for the different departments and praying that the bedroom department was close.
It wasn't.
Go figure, Steve thought, rolling his eyes and beginning to make his way through the departments.
He saw Bucky standing tensely next to a display of duvets as Steve rounded a corner. The ex-assassin looked wired and anxious, eyes scanning the room, hands crossed protectively over his chest, managing to hide his metal arm whilst omitting an air of, don't come near me.
"Bucky." Steve called as he crossed the room, seeing the brunet's face spin towards him, lines softening with relief as he caught sight of Steve.
Bucky moved towards Steve quickly, not able to wait for the other man to reach him.
"Hey, hey Bucky. Are you alright?" Steve asked softly, hands coming up to cup Bucky's face, stroking along the other man's cheekbones and eyes roaming over the expanse of his body, automatically examining him for injuries.
Bucky exhaled slowly and closed his eyes, mouth contorting in a way that Steve knew meant no, despite the fact that the next words out of his mouth would be–
"I'm fine, Steve."
"You're not fine," Steve sighed, "c'mon Bucky. Are you hurt?"
Bucky shook his head, arms moving to snake around Steve's waist as he tilted his head away from the other man's hands, pressing his forehead into Steve's shoulder and clinging to his friend's strong, solid frame tightly.
"Hey, it's alright Buck." Steve returned the hug with one arm, his other hand moving to the back of Bucky's neck, feeling the clammy heat of the smaller man's body as he ran his fingers gently through the soft hair there. "You're okay, I'm here. You're safe, I promise."
They stood there for a long moment, absorbed in a moment, the world around them not factoring in until Steve noticed an old woman watching them, eyes sympathetic as she looked at Bucky.
"My husband was the same when he came back from the war," she said kindly, inclining her chin towards Bucky's arm, for once not hidden by a glove, "it gets better, dear."
Steve smiled slightly at her, trying to convey his thanks through his expression, feeling Bucky nod against his shoulder without looking up and hearing his mumbled, "thank you."
She smiled at them again before moving on and Steve watched her go before kissing the top of Bucky's head in a fond gesture.
"You want to get out of here?" Steve asked him, not wanting to push him, but aware that they were blocking the path.
Bucky pulled away from him. "Yeah, I just want– can we go home?"
"Of course, Buck."
Bucky followed Steve to the car, looking dejected and utterly miserable. He remained silent on the way back to the tower, and Steve didn't push him, understanding that Bucky needed the space to process his thoughts.
Bucky didn't speak until they were back in their apartment, him curled sideways on the sofa as Steve brought him a mug of the British tea that Tony had imported specially for them.
"I fucked up, I'm sorry." He muttered, staring into the cup, refusing to meet Steve's eyes.
Steve sighed and sat on the sofa, facing the other man. "You didn't fuck up Bucky. You knew that this would be a hard one. You just decided to throw yourself into the biggest, most complex store to ever hit the modern world."
Bucky's mouth twitched despite his mood and Steve counted that as a win. He reached out; his own fingers finding Bucky's metal ones and keeping them there. "Repeat after me James Buchanan Barnes. I did not fuck up. I went out on my own and I did not panic. That's improvement. Sam will be so proud of you, I know I am."
"But I did panic. I realised that I was lost and that I didn't know how to get there and I was panicking for a good forty minutes, just walking round and round in the same place. The arrows didn't make sense and I couldn't get out and I just felt like I was trapped in my own head. I thought for a few minutes that I was in a nightmare. I kept waiting to wake up." Bucky tilted his head to look at Steve. "I did panic."
"But you got yourself calm. You calmed yourself down enough to call me. Nothing really bad happened, you're home and safe. There were no panic attacks involved. You went out on your own. I declare that a success, no matter how it ended." Steve squeezed Bucky's hand, knowing that he could feel the pressure of the gesture.
"If I walked around the block once and came back you'd declare it a success. You have low expectations, Stevie," Bucky grimaced, shrugging his flesh shoulder slightly.
"Because it would be a success. When you first came back, you wouldn't ever leave the apartment. Ever. It took weeks before you'd even consider heading down to Stark's lab for him to take a look at your arm. Whatever you think, it is a success." Steve emphasised.
Bucky didn't look certain, but nodded marginally anyway.
"Just, next time you want to go to IKEA, take one of us with you. That place could send anyone spiralling into insanity. Trust me. You should have seen me after I'd been in there the first time. I don't think Sam's stopped laughing since." Steve admitted, inching closer to Bucky and leaning his side against Bucky's own.
He heard the other man huff out a small laugh. "That place was crazy. I mean, what the fuck is a pod chair? Seriously? Who needs that?"
"Everyone apparently." Steve pulled a face.
"Everyone is stupid." Bucky decided, leaning the side of his head against the top of Steve's.
"Gee, thanks."
"You above all. You're stupid for putting up with my crazy ass." Bucky rubbed his cheek against Steve's hair in a familiar gesture that soothed them both.
"Maybe I like your crazy ass." Steve joked, angling his head to press his lips to Bucky's mouth in a brief, chaste kiss.
Bucky's mouth chased his own and he chuckled. "You're a sap, Steve Rogers."
"Maybe, but I'm your sap." Steve moved to kiss Bucky's cheek once before reclaiming the other man's mouth.
"You're a punk." Bucky murmured against Steve's lips and the blonde smiled.
"Yeah, but I'm with you until the end of the line. Just not the IKEA arrow line, because no one wants that. Ever."
Bucky snorted and pushed him playfully. "Shut up. I didn't know that it was like the fucking yellow brick road to nowhere in there."
Steve laughed openly. "You gonna write a book about it?"
"Yeah, it'll be called, A Million Reasons Never to Set Foot in that Place Again." Bucky's hand curled into Steve's shirt, pulling him back toward him and pressing their foreheads together, kissing the tip of Steve's nose.
"What, like The Chronicles of IKEA by Bucky Barnes?" Steve winked at him playfully.
"How about the Chronicles of Captain America Secretly Being an Obnoxious Asshole."
"I don't think people would write songs and comics about that, somehow."
"Well they should, it'd be more realistic."
"Next time, I'm leaving you to starve in IKEA and you'll deserve it." Steve said, good-naturedly.
"You wouldn't, you'd miss me too much." Bucky pushed Steve backwards, so that they were both lying across the sofa, him resting against Steve's chest as the bigger man's arms encircled his torso in a loose grip.
"I would." Steve admitted with a fond smile.
"Thank you for rescuing me." Bucky rested his nose in the V at the top of Steve's sternum before pressing a kiss there.
"I'll always come and rescue you. Haven't we already established this? Even if it is only from fluffy pink comforters." Steve leaned down to kiss Bucky's hair, running his hands up and down his friend's back soothingly, thinking about the times when they've both saved each other, knowing that the need to protect goes both ways in their relationship.
"I never want to see another fucking fluffy duvet set again in my life."
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Also: this is a one shot and will not be continued. Follow my account rather than this fic if you want to read more of my writing.
