ROOMATE WANTED ($400 p/m), BROOKLYN, NEW YORK.
Date: 2015-15-02 8:35 PM EST
Reply to: srogers47
I have a bedroom (12 x 14ft) available starting March 1st for a roommate of any gender. I can't afford a place on my own, so I'd need a roommate to help me out with the rent.
About Me:
I work from home, mostly as a freelance graphic designer but I do have other outside commitments, as well as a night job with odd hours. I don't 'go out' much, but I do on occasion. I mostly stay at home and watch a movie or work on projects.
If you're interested, please contact me by email and tell me about yourself.
Note:
Because I work odd hours, I'd prefer a roommate who doesn't mind me doing so and won't complain too much. I don't want to upset anyone.
/
To: srogers47
From: jbbarnes
Subject: Future Roommate?
Date: February 4 2015
Hey,
My name is James (But please, call me Bucky) and your room sounds like the perfect fit. I really don't mind sharing, and I can cook pretty well. I work nights too, mostly, but my hours are pretty flexible. I promise I'm not a serial killer. I just want a place.
I'm free to meet anytime. Just give me a heads up and I'll be there.
Bucky
/
Steve knew the roommate thing was probably a terrible idea. In fact, it may just be the worst idea he's ever had, but it wasn't as if he'd had many other options. His graphic design work was sporadic at best and his luck didn't look to be changing anytime soon. And his other job? Well, that was different.
Superhero work, as it were, was not something you got thanked for often, let alone paid to do it. And even if that was an option, Steve wasn't sure he'd take the money; it wouldn't be fair. On the bright side though, his incredible healing powers meant he didn't have to worry about medical bills as often as the average person.
He knew, of course, that there were plenty of ways he could've used his powers to get him some kind of impossibly fantastic athletic career, or some other kind of big-paying job. But that wouldn't have been fair – unlike most people, he didn't exactly work for the body or skills he had. It was more of a thing that was suddenly thrust upon him, rather than at all earned.
In fact, Steve used to be a pretty skinny guy with more health problems than anyone person should rightly have managed to live as long as he did. Ironically, it was because of his skinny, useless body that he even got these powers.
Three years before, he'd been in critical condition in hospital after a nasty flu had turned into pneumonia. Steve didn't remember much of that time, just a blur of fever-dreams and vague sounds from when they'd been forced to put him in a medically induced coma.
Then at some point, when Steve had one of those rare moment of consciousness, a doctor by the name of Abraham Erskine had come in and offered Steve a choice. There was an experimental trial, one that meant Steve could not only get better, but also stay that way.
Naturally, Steve had been quite sceptical. He'd done more than his fair share of medical trials, so he knew better than most about what the odds were. But after a while, the promise that Dr Erskine had made seemed more and more inviting, especially after another bad episode.
So he'd taken the deal, signed more paperwork than he ever thought possible, and then they'd sent him off to some secret underground hospital where it all began. From there he'd been prodded at by a lot of official-looking people and then injected with a series of injections of some kind of serum that Dr Erskine had created.
The whole process had been kind of painful, but once it was over, Steve was about a foot taller than he had been, and probably closer to double his old weight. Seeing himself like that had been a surreal experience.
After that, he was interviewed by a stern-looking military man named Colonel Phillips who wanted to test what Steve's body could do had briefed him. Apparently super-strength, amongst other things, was a part of his new set of abilities.
But then it had all gone to proverbial shit when Dr Erskine had been killed. The entire Strategic Scientific Reserve had scattered on the wind. Nobody had quite known what to do with Steve after that. Eventually, he'd ended up on a promotional circuit as 'Captain America', trying to convince people to support the military taskforces in various nations like he was some kind of living and breathing propaganda icon.
His identity has been kept under serious wrap, and eventually after the money ran out for the tours, Steve was cut loose and went on his way. Of course, that was when the whole superhero thing had started.
Look, it wasn't like he'd gone out there intending to become some kind of superhero, but when the emergence of a man known only as the Red Skull had appeared in New York, looking to cause trouble, Steve had suited up in the Cap suit (it seemed like a great idea at the time) and fought the man an entire city's worth of cops couldn't bring down. It had been one of the craziest weeks of Steve's life, but he wouldn't take it back. What he'd done there had been important. Better than any glorified military parade with its song and dance.
But that didn't mean it paid the bills, or made it any easier to do so. In fact, superhero life had become a lot more demanding as of late, with every new villain emerging almost as soon as the one before fell.
So, a stable, well-paying job was pretty much off the table. He'd managed to scrape by so far, but he knew that couldn't last. So the whole roommate idea had been born.
Steve was well aware of the problems this could cause – trying to hide his secret identity not only out in the general public, but inside his home too. But the prospect of less rent and an extra pair of hands around the place would be helpful.
After all, there were only so many things that could go wrong, and if they did, well Steve was a superhero.
/
Bucky knocked on the door and checked his watch. He wasn't too early, was he? God, he hoped not. He didn't want to seem too overeager, even if this place seemed like a dream, especially considering the added bonus of a roommate who wouldn't mind odd hours, unlike his last landlord.
Suddenly, the door opened and out came a blond, well, god, could be the only way to describe it. Bucky didn't think he'd ever seen someone so attractive in his life.
"Hey?" the blond god asked, looking adorably confused. Bucky tried not to stare. He needed to make a good impression here.
"Oh, hey, I'm Bucky. Here for the viewing? You're Steve, right?" he said, trying to sound composed and not at all like he'd been momentarily stunned by the sheer hotness of this person.
"Oh, yes, I am! Sorry. It's been a busy day. " Steve replied. Bucky noticed a patch of dirt on Steve's cheek. "Everything is a bit of mess."
"That's fine," Bucky replied lightly and stepped inside.
"So, your room's over there at the end of the hall," Steve said and pointed towards the room. "Bathroom's just across from there and that room is mine, but the rest is shared space."
Bucky was already impressed. He'd seen the photos online, but the place was nice, even if it did currently look a little chaotic.
"It's great."
"So you want to move in?" Steve asked. "Sorry, that was too fast. There's no pressure, but I'd just really like to get this off the market."
"Sure," Bucky replied. "So long as you don't mind me working nights."
"Where do you work?"
"Security" Bucky replied. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it was perhaps the most legitimate way of selling his nightly activities – after all, it wasn't like he could exactly advertise he was running around fighting crime. Formally known as the Winter Soldier, he was one of New York's finest crime-fighters. Sure, he was no superhuman Captain America, or covered with fancy tech Iron Man (nevermind his entire left arm was metal - it wasn't exactly like he could just take that off), but he was still someone who delivered results. That was worth something, maybe not enough to completely erase his past, but it was better than nothing.
"I've done some stuff like that," Steve replied. "Though I don't think it's exactly the same kind of work."
You have no idea, pal, Bucky thought. "So, you work nights?"
"Yeah, though not always. I don't always know when I'll get a shift."
"I can live with that."
"Good," Steve replied, visibly relieved. "It's been off-putting for some other people."
"I can honestly deal with it."
"So, you want to move in?"
"How could I say no?" Bucky said and shrugged, trying to be casual about it. He really needed a place like this. There was a surprising amount of people that'd been put off the moment they heard he worked nights. So much for the city that never sleeps.
"Excellent," Steve replied.
/
The whole roommate thing was working out better than Steve had expected. Bucky was polite, an excellent cook, actually cleaned up after himself, and made decent conversation (not to mention extremely attractive, but Steve was trying to make a point of not noticing that).
However, the same could not be said with other aspects of his life. Superhero work seemed to be more chaotic than ever, with the sudden appearance of giant reptiles (mostly lizards, though Steve had seen more than one giant snake) attacking New York. Nobody knew exactly where they had come from, though Steve could think of a few people who might have had a hand in this. Mad scientists seemed to be he particular villain type, which he always found a little ironic, considering his superhero origin.
The battle with the freakish reptiles had been going on for days, pretty much halting the city. Just when it seemed there were no more, they'd suddenly crop back up again in full force. Carcases were piling up, though thankfully Iron Man (also known as billionaire Tony Stark) had been cleaning them up with his infinite resources. Steve didn't really personally know the man, nor did he care to, but it was useful.
"You alright there, Cap?" Iron Man asked as he helped pull a giant snake off Steve.
"I'm fine," Steve replied and checked for any breaks or damage, though such things hardly mattered to him. It was jut habit to check.
"Advanced healing, huh? Makes a lot of sense."
"Go away Stark," Steve said and picked up his shield. It wasn't exactly the most conventional of weapons, but something about it felt better than any gun or knife (he knew how to use both). It'd been one of those scrapped prototypes the late Howard Stark had left in the hands of the military, and Steve had gotten attached. Made of vibranium, a particularly rare metal, it absorbed all shock completely and was pretty much bullet proof, not to mention it was a useful projectile.
"You know, this would be a whole lot easier if I knew who you were. We could help each other out."
"Some of us like anonymity, Stark" Steve replied and scanned the area for any more replies. Thankfully, there didn't seem be any now, though he knew that could change at any moment.
"I could find out myself," Stark threatened, though Steve knew there was no venom to the threat. Stark, despite his ego and overzealous attitude, could actually be a good man sometimes.
Suddenly, another lizard appeared out of the sewers.
"Incoming," Steve said and got ready for the fight, throwing his shield at the lizard, hoping to knock it out. Iron Man fired another beam at the lizard and it hissed aggressively and spat in the direction of the beam. Some kind of saliva hit Stark's suit and there was a frightening crackle of electricity. Stark went down hard.
Steve was about to go over and see if Stark was okay, but then the lizard turned its attention to Steve and he got a little distracted. He tried to lure it away, closer to the river, but halfway there, something hit the lizard and it got distracted.
Looking around, Steve tried to spot what had hit the lizard, but there was no sight of any people around. People had fled the area, so the culprit must have been another superhero, or some foolhardy civilian who thought they could use this moment to be a hero. Though Steve admired these people's guts, sometimes it was better to leave it to the experienced people.
Suddenly, a man came into view and shot the lizard again. This time, the beast went down, just barely missing crashing into the side of the nearest building.
"I had it on the ropes," Steve said once the dust had settled.
The man snorted. "Sure you did," he replied, his voice clearly distorted by the mask on the lower half of his face. Steve looked the man over. He had longish hair tied back, and was in full black, save for his left arm, which at first Steve thought was some kind of metal armour but on closer inspection, it seemed to the man's actual arm.
"You new around here?" Steve asked.
"Something like that."
"Name?"
"As if I'd tell you that."
"Sorry, not your actual name. I don't care about that, but what should I call you?"
The man rolled his eyes. "People call me the Winter Solider."
Steve frowned. "Should I have heard of you before?"
"No," the man replied. "Now, let's get back to this. There's another lot just around the corner."
Steve swore. The Winter Solider laughed. "What?" Steve asked.
"Just didn't think Captain America of all people swore."
"Most people don't," Steve replied with a roll of his eyes. Most people seemed to have a very set notion of who the person Captain America should be – that because he was a Symbol of America, he couldn't possibly do things like swear, or god forbid, be bisexual.
"Well, let's get going," The Winter Soldier replied, and shoved another clip into his gun.
/
Bucky's day had been pretty fucking terrible, what with all the ginormous reptiles trashing New York City, though meeting Captain America was something of a highlight. He'd heard a lot about the iconic military mascot-turned-hero, and even been a lot envious. Bucky wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Captain America might have been a pretty big inspiration for his thing as a hero. Sure, he'd started small, keeping an extremely low profile, but Bucky suspected after this fight his photo would probably make it somewhere in the news.
Might as well start somewhere, he thought, pulling off his tactical gear behind a dumpster. The fight was over, they'd won and the freaky reptiles were gone (Bucky wasn't sure who, but someone had managed to find their source and stop it, whatever it was. He hadn't stuck around to find out). Captain America had waved goodbye and walked off, as if he hadn't just nearly been killed several dozen times and crushed by several lizards and a snake. Did that man ever get hurt? Could he even get hurt?
"Fuck," Bucky swore when he noticed a gash on his side. It wasn't too large, but it was certainly not something he could just shrug off. He studied it for a moment, considering if he could get away with just walking home. Steve would definitely notice something like this, though Bucky hoped he could pass it off as some injury sustained from running away from the giant reptiles, as opposed to running into the fight. Steve was just some guy and Bucky was a superhero and didn't deserve to have to deal with this shit (or at least that's what he told himself anytime the thought of banging his roommate popped into his head, which was embarrassingly often).
Bucky decided he might as well just tough it up and walk home. Pulling on his flesh-sleeve to cover the metal arm (which looked real enough that nobody ever bothered to question it, especially with the kind of dexterity the arm had).
When he got home, Steve was on the couch. He looked like he'd been there for some time. Bucky suddenly felt like a terrible person for not even thinking to shoot a text to his roommate to tell him he wasn't dead.
"You're okay," Steve said, relief clear in his voice. "I was worried."
"I'm fine," Bucky replied and tried to recall the excuse he'd used to leave the apartment. "The same can't be said of the milk."
"It's fine, I'm just glad you're okay." Steve said earnestly (and damn, if Bucky didn't melt a little at that – he'd forgotten how nice it was to have people who cared like this).
"You didn't go out?" Bucky asked and collapsed on the other end of the couch.
"Nah. Didn't seem like a good idea," Steve replied dryly. "I saw the news."
"It was pretty rough out there," Bucky said. "Thank god it's all over."
"Did you see any heroes?" Steve asked. Bucky tried to hold back his surprise. Normally, Steve pretty plainly avoided the topic, which was perfectly fine with Bucky.
"I wasn't really paying attention. I might've seen Iron Man, but who hasn't seen that guy?" Bucky lied. "He's shorter than he looks."
Steve laughed. "So I've heard."
"You've seen him before?"
"Once or twice. It's New York," Steve said with a shrug.
"God, I'm so tired. Do you think anything will be open for delivery?" Bucky asked.
"Hopefully something will be. If not, I'll cook."
"You're the best, Steve," Bucky replied and not for the first time, marvelled at how lucky he'd been to get a roommate as literally perfect as Steve, who'd probably give Captain America a run for his money.
A/N: I don't even really have any cool explanations for how this whole thing came about. Only that it did, and I'm really attached? I don't know. It's fun and I'm always a sucker for au fic and after reading literally hundreds of steve/bucky fics I felt it was probably time I started to contribute.
reviews/etc seriously appreciated all round. let me know how I'm doing here.