Experience comes from bad judgement.
-Rita Mae Brown
He'll know and he'll care.
Bucky's words still echo around in her head as she stocks the shelves with the latest shipment of erotic Christian literature. Ew. That even sounds wrong in her head. Erotic Christian literature. Erotic Christian literature. Erotic Christian-
"Corrine!" Landon, the manager, storms over. Her blue eyes burn like fire and Corrine feels the sudden urge to run and hide. She's been the model employee all day. What could possibly have the preacher's wife in such a tizzy? "Why didn't you tell me he would be here? This store is a mess!"
"The store is immaculate." Corrine knows this as fact because she keeps it that way. No little snot-nosed brats running wild on her watch.
"Not as immaculate as it should be for Captain America."
Oh.
Okay.
It's understandable, Corrine guesses, that people freak out over Steve the way they do. After all, he's the American wet dream. All tall and Adonis like wrapped with a neat little bow of patriotism. He punched Hitler in the face. He's a god to the peasants. Unless the peasant in question is Corrine. Things change a bit there. To her he's just Steve. Dorky, lovable, golden retriever-esque Steve.
"Sorry, Landon. Didn't think it was a big deal. I'll tell him to-"
"I hope the end of that sentence isn't leave. My feelings would be hurt."
"Steve!" Corrine launches herself into his arms, happy to see her best friend and potential fuck buddy. Yeah, her time with Bucky earlier in the morning is seared into her brain. All she can think about is what's under those tight, white t-shirts her boys like to wear.
Steve interrupts her train of thought with a hearty laugh. "Someone's happy." He brushes his lips against the top of Corrine's head, a small smile appearing. "You out for lunch yet?"
"Not for another-"
"She's free to go now!" Landon blurts out excitedly. "If you want her, I mean."
He looks to Corrine smoothly, saying, "I always want her," in a voice that should be absolutely illegal to use. It's downright sinful. Corrine wants to hear it again.
"Break room is this way. I'm sure Landon will be more than happy to give us some, uh, private time. Right Landon?" Corrine looks at her boss pleadingly. Please let me get some for the first time ever in the break room, she hopes her eyes say. Landon just nods dumbly as she's still awestruck by the great and mighty Captain America.
Wait 'til she gets a hold of Bucky, Corrine thinks.
Bucky… this morning… sex…
Corrine feels like a horny teenager and can't pull Steve towards the break room fast enough. The dumb giant has to stop every few feet and be nice to people. In reality, his priority should be getting Corrine alone and banging her brains out. Not literally. That would be gross. It's just a metaphor. She looks back at Steve, muscles flexing as he picks up some woman's kid. Hopefully.
"You take too damn long to do anything. Seventy years to get out of ice, almost eighty to find Bucky. I'm gonna be a hundred before you fuck me!" Corrine pulls him by the front of the shirt into the small room, smashing her lips on to Steve's immediately. He grips her by the back of the thighs and lifts so she's free to wrap her legs around his waist.
"Why do you always exaggerate?" His hands are rough, needy. A lot like his voice. Corrine feels herself growing wet and the man hasn't even done anything to her.
"It's fun, Stevie."
At the sound of the old nickname Steve spins around, pressing her into the wood of the door. She can feel the doorknob pressing in to her lower back but can't bring herself to care. Steve is leaving little love bites all over her neck. She can't stop the moan. It practically tears its' way out of her throat. He stops at the sound, head tilted like he's waiting for Corrine to do it again. She doesn't. Steve lets go and she falls to a heap on the ground.
"The hell are you doing?" Corrine stands, attempting to pull Steve back to her. The man doesn't budge in the slightest. He stands his ground looking gloriously ruffled. His usually carefully styled hair is messy while his lips are puffy from all the kissing.
"Not here."
"But-"
Steve holds a finger to his lips. "I said not here. I didn't say not now. I'm parked out front with Bucky. Go sit with him. I'll tell Landon you got sick and I have to take you home."
Corrine giggles. This is ridiculous. First of all, there's no way in hell Landon would ever believe whatever excuse Steve manages to concoct. Second of all, "Those sound dangerously like orders, Steve."
"That's because they are. Go." And there's his Captain America voice. Not the one that can get free drinks in a bar or an Oreo McFlurry at one in the morning, but the one that's supposed to strike fear in the hearts of his enemies. The one that's supposed to make all other bow and tremble before him.
Honestly, Corrine just finds it annoying.
But she plays along. Happy wife, happy life and whatnot.
Steve's car is easy to spot. Not just because she knows what it looks like either. It's the least assuming one in the lot despite being black with heavily tinted windows. The shop's in a really rich neighborhood. The amount of bored housewives that pull up in their ugly G Wagons is incredible. Steve's car looks like it could belong to anyone from anywhere.
What doesn't look like it could belong to anyone from anywhere is Bucky. He looks anxious, toying with his still shaggy hair. His leg is bouncing when Corrine climbs in the backseat of the car.
"What's your problem?" She asks jovially. "I'm great by the way. Steve's getting me off work for the rest of the day."
"He knows." Is all Bucky says before falling silent again.
For some reason those two little words cause knots to form in Corrine's stomach. So what if Steve knows? They didn't do anything wrong. Did they? She doesn't think they did, but suddenly she isn't so sure.
"Am I in over my head here, Buck? Bucky?"
Steve gets in the car and a heavy silence rains over them.
"You know?" Corrine hates how uncertain she sounds.
Steve looks at her in the rearview mirror. His eyes are grey and cold as ice. "I know."
"And we're in trouble." Bucky adds.
Well, that sounds significantly less fun.
Corrine watches the way Steve looks to Bucky, adoring yet firm.
Maybe she'll be wrong
