Bucky is in the kitchen contemplating his life currently. He ironically ended up being late to the briefing and therefore, forfeiting the right to be selected to go on the next mission. Natasha, Barton and Wanda being more fitted for the job this time around.
He didn't really mind. Now that the Accords have been disbanded, and the Avengers given the freedom back they've had before as a gift to saving the world, Bucky likes even having the option to sit out. He probably would've been too distracted, thinking about bright, warm eyes. A wonderful smile lighting her up from the inside out, pretty hair to frame her gorgeous face. A big, compassionate, beautiful heart to go along with everything else.
He was even distracted during the briefing, googling the Loving Arms Therapeutic Center. He clicked on every single link he could on the website. Reading through articles, scrolling through pictures and seeing the cute smiling faces of the children with their prosthetic limbs. The site was warming his heart, just like it was doing in the coffee shop. He feels like an utter idiot now.
Ting ting ting.
"What the hell are you doing?" Sam questions flatly.
"Trying to knock the stupid out of me." Bucky answers
"I don't think that's possible, man. I've tried, remember."
Bucky doesn't give that a response, just continue to knock Steve's new shield against his forehead.
"Is this about Charlie again?" Steve inquires, coming from the hallway.
Bucky groans.
"Charlie?" Sam frowns in confusing. "Oh. That girl from the coffee shop?"
"He's got it bad, Sam. Look at him."
"Kinda sad, really."
"He's so enamored."
"I'd appreciate it if you both would shut the fuck up, thank you." Bucky finally drops the shield to the counter.
Steve sighs, crossing his arm and leaning against the edge. "What happened this time, Buck?"
He winces, scratching his chin for a moment. "I may have done something stupid."
"We figured that, Frosty, what else?" Sam quips, smirking.
Bucky glares menacingly at him for several long moments. "I may have seen her in the café, and I…I just wanted to talk to her again. So, I kind of deliberately bumped into her."
"Oh my God-" Steve moans embarrassed for his friend, already knowing how it ends.
"I swear the fucking universe is making it impossible to have a normal meeting. The coffee just-" Bucky gestures with his hands in the air, then along his torso. "All over her. Worse than the first time, because she was already running late to a meeting. And she stole my shirt."
Sam is cackling, doubled over the counter. "Shit, man, you're right. That was really stupid." Sam gathers himself, ignoring Bucky's death glares. "Why don't you just ask her out?"
Scoffing Bucky says, "Haven't you been listening? I'm an absolutely, inarticulate idiot when it comes to her! Steve!"
The man leaning against the counter just raises his eyebrows. As pathetic as Bucky is saying this is, Steve is trying his hardest to hold in his amusement.
"How was I ever good with women?"
"You weren't that good." He jokes. "You were a secret nerd. Pretty sure they were just distracted by your charming looks and dancing."
Bucky pick up the shield and tosses it rather forcefully at his friend. Steve catches it, finally breaking out in laughter.
"I think she sees everything." He tells them, pushing his hair back. "I try to flirt, she sees through it. I try and be charming, nope. Graceful, fuck that. I swear she think the whole super soldier thing is a myth, the way I act around her. All of this, and she said she just wants to know me more."
Bucky sighs forlornly. "Fuck."
"What?" Steve and Sam ask at the same time.
"How quickly can someone be smitten as you said?"
"This is way past that, dude." Sam answers. "This is a full on crush. Infatuation."
"Steve, can I have your shield back?"
It's nearly a week later when it happens again.
"I like that Pete went with freezing coffee as ice cubes. It's interesting. Got it all, Charlie?" Dave checks, peaking into the bag of pastries and bagels she's holding.
"Yes." Charlies chirps brightly. "Four cherry danishes, five everything bagels, pumpkin bread. Lizzie gets one slice and not the whole loaf, make sure of that. Orange, blueberry and peach scones, two of each, and one tray of frozen and iced coffee. Jesus, you must love us a lot."
"Only three days a week." He jokes, carrying another tray of more drinks. "Want me to take the bag?"
"Nah, I got it." She assures, as they make their way toward the door.
A blessed soul sees them coming and holds the door open for them. She nods in gratitude, taking a step off the small stoop. It was seemingly turning out to be a good day, until she swears something like a freight train knocks into her side.
Charlie does not have it. At all. She tries to stop it, tries to catch the tray from tumbling out of her hand, but as her life has been going lately, it doesn't happen. All four drinks clattered to the ground in a splattered array of frozen slush and liquid. She also doesn't have to look to see who see bumped into, his smell already clouding up her senses, as her nose is already attuned to it.
There's a quick flash of frustration, mainly at herself, that boils in her stomach. When she lifts her eyes from the pathetic sight of ruined drinks for her coworkers, she sees the familiar face of Bucky Barnes; again.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Charlie growls, slightly irritated. It's like the goddamn universe refuses for them to have any form of coffee near them. "I mean, it's getting fucking ridiculous at this point."
Bucky's steel blue eyes are wide with horror and embarrassment. His hands are stretched out in front of him as if he tried stopping the inevitable. What doesn't help the situation is Dave's snort from behind them before he goes back into the café.
She pinches the bridge of her of nose with one hand and curls the other into a fist. She slowly inhales then exhales, the breath long and heavy before dropping her hand from her face. She wants to be agitated because it is absolutely ridiculous; she can't keep a hold of any cup of coffee and now she thinks she should just be forbidden to even go near it. Bucky's right, she is quiet a klutz when it comes to her grip.
This is the forth situation and she can't help but wonder if God or some other deity is playing games with the both of them. If that's the case, why does her damn coffee have to be the victim of it each and every time.
She has a joke on the tip of her tongue, ready to make light of the situation despite feeling rather stupid at herself. However, Bucky abruptly squats down, frantically shoveling ice cubes back into one of the cups. His remorse is radiating off of him so much she can practically see it fogging up the air. At least this time, none of the drinks landed on her, and the pastry bag remained in her other hand.
"Fucking Christ, I'm so fucking sorry, Charlie!" Bucky apologizes, a hint of hysterics in his voice. He shoves most of the ice into one clear cup. "I wasn't looking and you're right, shit. This is my fault, it's ridiculous and- why are these ice cubes brown- I should pay more attention-"
Charlie just stares down at him, as he's not even using his left hand to handle the ice, but instead, moves on to scoop the frozen coffee into another cup. Any and all annoyance at herself and the situation fades away as Bucky fumbles like a little boy who broke someone's school project. There's frozen coffee and melted whipped cream covering his hand, and she bites her lip. It's endearing. It really shouldn't be, since fifteen bucks just went to waste, but it is. He is. She finds Bucky utterly endearing, and enthralling.
"I mean, is this even considered coffee? What the hell is it?" Bucky continues to ramble, confusion now coloring his tone as he rights another cup and sticks the rest back into the cardboard try.
"Bucky-" She attempts to interrupt, trying and failing to keep the amusement out of her voice.
"I really am an idiot and I swear I'm more aware than this-"
"James Buchanan Barnes!"
His head snaps up at his full name, and he slowly rises to his feet. He looks ridiculous; standing there with the frozen coffee in his right hand, melting and dripping between his fingers. His expression is colored with guilt, his white teeth gnawing at his pink bottom lip, and his dark hair has stray strands falling out of the little bun he has tied to the base of his head.
She opens her mouth to say something, but the coffee falling from his flesh hand reroutes her brain. "Isn't that cold?"
He looks at his hand quickly. "No, it's-it's fine. I'm just going to-"
Reaching forward, she taps his knuckles. "Drop it." Charlie chuckles, "Bucky, just let it go."
"I need to clean it up though."
She shakes his fist until he finally uncurls his fingers. "Let this go first. There we go."
Bucky's expression pulls into a deep frown, chewing his bottom lip for a moment. "Let me pay for what I ruined, Charlie, please. I feel so bad. I keep ruining your mornings and I'm sure you want to punch me in the face or- actually, I'll let you. It looks like you want to."
"What?" She releases a startled laugh. "No, Bucky, I don't want to punch you in the face."
He nods but still looks crestfallen. "Let me go- I'll just go pay- I'm sorry. I tend to destroy everything I touch. I'll pay for the new ones and you'll never have to see me again, I swear."
Bucky says it so fast, hurrying into the café and ripping his wrist out of her hold, before she can even process what he said. When his self-deprecating words do sink in, an empty feeling takes over her stomach and her heart sinks to her feet. Charlie looks over shoulder, peering into the shop, but she doesn't spot him. The downward tilt to his mouth makes her insides twist with something sharp, and she makes a decision right there to somehow make him smile again.
Charlie's about to go back inside when Dave exits with new drinks in a more secure carrier, handle and all. He jerks his head for her to follow, and she wants to refuse, wants to run inside and talk to Bucky. Wants to make him smile, or laugh because in the very short amount of time they've known each other, she's already used to those little crinkles appearing by his eyes. However, she promised Dave she'd help bring breakfast and coffee to the staff as an appreciation for all their hard work.
"Did you see Bucky?" Charlie questions as they walk away.
"He was trying to give Pete a hundred dollars." He chuckles.
"Did you hear him? He said he destroys everything he touches." She whispers, sorrow leaking into her tone. She looks over her shoulder again.
"And you don't believe that." Dave assumes confidently.
"No. I don't." She agrees vehemently. Chewing her lip, to turns her head again. Finally, she sees Bucky has come back out, and he's currently laying paper towels down on the pavement that Pete must have given him. She doesn't realize Dave has stopped talking until she's a few feet ahead of him.
"Go talk to him, Charlotte." He tells her, taking the bag of pastries from her. "I know you want to."
"But I promised I'd help you-"
"Well, seeing as I'm your boss, you now have the day off. So, go talk to your crush, make him feel better."
She glares at him for his last comment. "It's not a crush."
"Infatuation. Smitten, enamored, love at first sight, soul mates. Shall I continue?"
Trying to ignore the heat pooling in her cheeks, she flicks him off, beginning to walk backwards. "I hate you."
"I'm your boss, that's unprofessional!" He laughs.
"You're the boss's son, not the same thing." Charlie pauses to give him a genuine smile. "Thank you though."
Dave shakes his head. "I'll see you Monday."
Turning back around, she speed walks her way back to the café. Bucky's back is towards her, but he hears her, her short-heeled boots thumping against the ground.
"Let me help, Bucky." She suggests gently, squatting to grab the paper towel roll.
He barely glances at her. "It's fine, Charlie. It's my fault, again."
A bitter taste fills her mouth, and she can't stand to see his somber expression anymore. As if he suddenly gave up on the little game they've been playing. His shoulders are hunched forward and for a man of his stature and size, he's really good at making himself look small; defeated.
Charlie reaches out once more, carefully wrapping her fingers around both of his wrists. "Bucky."
He lifts his gaze to hers, stormy blue eyes reflecting an inner turmoil. She ignores the strange flutter of her heart.
"It's just coffee." She tells him, offering him a small smile. "Just coffee."
He inhales, his chest visibly shuddering for a moment. Then, his soft looking lips spread into a shy smile as he nods. She swears it makes his eyes brighten more and she's struck with just how gorgeous she finds this man. Several long moments pass as they just stare at each other, her stomach slowly filling back up with a sensation that feels suspiciously like wings.
The moment is broken as a small group of teenagers push pass them, giving them a rude reminder that they are both bending down in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York. Charlie chuckles breathlessly, finally realizing how long she's been holding his wrist. She slowly releases her fingers and they continue to clean up the coffee as best they can.
Once they throw away the soaking paper towels, Bucky successfully slips his money into Pete's hand. He grabs Charlie by her forearm, quickly tugging her along before Pete can yell at him to take his money back. They stumble back outside, this time free of any drinks.
"What brings you out here today?" She questions as they linger on the sidewalk.
"I've been looking for an auto shop to get my bike checked out." Bucky informs her, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
She peers around him, spotting the same motorcycle she saw last time. A spike of excitement shoots up her spine; she might have a weakness for men on motorcycles. With blue eyes…and long chestnut hair that keeps being pushed back because it falls out of the bun. It's enough of a distraction that it takes a second for her to notice something is off with his words.
"Wait." Charlie holds her hand up, frowning in bemusement. "Don't you have one of the greatest mechanics at your beck and call? Also, you look like you know your way around a thing of beauty like that too."
"I do have skillful hands…unlike some people I know." He quips, smirking.
The little spark in his eyes nearly distracts her from his words. She glares at him. "Are you sure you can drive that properly, being ungraceful and unaware all the time?"
"Touché."
She gently knocks her elbow into his, the words he spoke still in the front of her mind. "Can I see?"
He nods and leads her down the street to where it's parked. It's a beautiful motorcycle, red paint shinning in the sunlight. It seems just a little flashy for someone like Bucky, but maybe he bought it just for that reason. She hovers her hand over the frame, appreciating its beauty.
"Indian Chief…1948?" She asks just to make sure she was right.
"Yeah. How'd you know?"
"My uncle owns a shop just outside Coney Island." Charlie whirls around. "Actually. He specializes in classic motorcycles. I could give you his contact number, if you want. I could call and let him know you're coming."
Bucky seems to think it over for a moment. "Actually Charlie, would you mind showing me?"
Her eyebrows twitch down briefly. "Oh, like on your phone? I mean the GPS can get tricky."
He brings his left hand up, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the ground for a few seconds before locking his gaze with hers. "I mean, would you mind escorting me there? That is, if you don't have another hot date of bumping into someone who ruins four coffees in one go."
A startled laugh escaped her lips. "I think that spot is well spoken for." Charlie licks her suddenly dry lips as Bucky's smile reaches his eyes this time. "But, um, yeah. I'd love to show you."
She can't help her eyes slipping back to the bike, excited at the idea of riding one. She's predictable apparently, since Bucky calls her out on it.
"You'd love to just ride a motorcycle more wouldn't you?" He guesses, picking the helmet off the back of the seat.
"Guilty." She smirks at him. She pulls her phone out of her small side purse, quickly sending a text to her uncle. "Let's go!"
"Whoa there, Charlie." He laughs, then presses the helmet into her hands. "Here, put this on. I don't trust that you won't lose your grip and fall off."
Narrowing her eyes at him, she counters, "Where's your helmet? Can't be scratching up that gorgeous face of yours."
Her words leave him standing there frozen as she carefully, but quickly mounts the bike. She zips up her maroon leather jacket, then taps the seat behind her. Bucky snaps out of whatever he was just in, playfully rolling his eyes, then proceeds to places his hands on either of her shoulders, forcing her backwards.
"I'm driving." He states, smoothly swinging his leg over the seat. "I don't trust you."
Charlie bites her lip to keep from making any embarrassing noise because Bucky Barnes mounting a bike had her stomach fluttering and her breath catching in her chest. It's a horrible moment to realize just how attractive he is. Just how attractive she's becoming towards him and- shit. She's never took a liking to somebody so fast before. His scent ensures her once more, but she shakes her head and focuses.
"Shut up and drive, Sergeant."
She can't be sure if he snorts or not because it starts up the engine. It rumbles beneath her, and excitement abruptly fills her veins. Bucky peers over his shoulder a her, pointedly raising his eyebrows. Charlie rolls her eyes, then makes a show of putting on the helmet. To her slight surprise, Bucky twist, adjusting the helmet to fit proper.
"Hold on tight, doll." He instructs, a smirk pulling up his lips. He winks at her, then shuts the visor.
She's glad he can no longer see her face, otherwise he would have seen the flush in her cheeks. Shaking her head fondly, she slowly snakes her arms around his torso, holding tight but managing to keep a few inches of space between their bodies. He tenses up for a moment, then they take off, merging into the busy streets of New York.
"Fucking hell."
"Didn't mean to scare you, Charlie." Bucky chuckles as he helps her hop off the bike. He's enjoying this entirely too much.
She tugs off the helmet, glaring. "Did they not have traffic laws back then?" She places the helmet on the bike, then starts smoothing out her hair. He's still laughing. "You didn't scare me, by the way. Now, if you're done playing Fast and the Furious, my uncle is waiting."
The second they walk into the shop, they're met by a loud booming voice.
"Charlie!" Her uncle greets, pulling her into a hug. "How's my favoritest niece doing? Bringing the boyfriend to meet the uncle, bold choice, missy."
She pinches his shoulder, knowing full well her uncle knows Bucky is just a friend. However, Bucky doesn't know that, and he apparently chokes on air, given by his coughing from behind her.
"First, he isn't my boyfriend." Charlie scolds playfully. "Secondly, why would I ever bring a boyfriend here? I'd want him to like me and not run away when he meets you, Uncle Glenn."
Her uncle looks over her head at Bucky. "It's called an interrogation and I don't ever understand why they run away in fear."
Bucky laugh brightly, and Charlie has to pull her eyes away from his face to smack her uncle's arm. "Also, we all know my sister is your favorite because of Colin."
"You're right. Colin is my favorite, everyone else is eh."
"Love you too." She rolls her eyes fondly. When she looks at Bucky, he has a soft smile on his face. "Bucky, this is my Uncle Glenn, and despite his craziness, he is my favorite."
Glenn steps forward to shake Bucky's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Sergeant Barnes. I hear you've got a beauty there."
Charlie doesn't miss the way his eyes slide over to her, then snap back to Glenn as he realizes he means the motorcycle. She bites her lips and ignores the feelings in her chest. Bucky and her uncle get to talking, leading each other back outside to take a look at the bike.
As they make their way to the back chatting, Charlie looks around the shop. She hasn't visited in months, work keeping her busy. The shop has been tidied up since the last time she was here, more organized. There's pictures she remembers that use to be scattered around, but are now sitting in frames on the walls. She admires the articles about the shop that are propped up on the counter before moving on to the pictures on the walls.
The pictures range from bikes and cars, to her and her sister, to her parents and grandparents. There's a new set of pictures she hasn't seen before, or if she had, she doesn't remember. She looks each other them over, the dates and captions on the frames placing them around the time the shop opened.
There's a few of her great-grandfather posing in from of the brand new shop, and a few of him and her great-grandmother. A few of them of her young grandfather helping around the shop. She goes to move one, when she does a double take; one picture catching her eye.
Charlie leans closer, her mouth falling open. In the photo is her grandfather, but standing next to him, with carefree smiles on their faces, is Steve Rogers and Bucky. The photo was obviously taken before the second world war, since Captain America is nothing but a skinny, smaller kid. It's the pre-war Bucky that makes her breath hitch.
His face just looks younger, clean shaven, with his hair cut short and neat. His eyes are bright, his mouth open in a wide smile, his left arm hung loosely over Steve's shoulders. Bucky looks every bit of handsome and beautiful in the photo as he does now. Only a few small features and his eyes are different. The eyes in the photo have yet to witness the horrors of war. Have yet to be the victim of torture, of enduring seventy years.
She carefully takes the photo off the hook on the wall, making her way to the garage. Her uncle is showing Bucky an old rusted engine, one from her grandfather's first motorcycle. Charlie doesn't want to interrupt them, but she needs to show him this photo.
"Bucky, look what I found."
He picks his head up when he hears his name, taking the frame when she hands it to him. He freezes for a few moments. Then he's rapidly blinking, as if he can't believe his eyes.
"Holy shit." He breathes, his right hand ghosting over the picture.
"Crazy right?" She asks rhetorically. "You're wearing spenders."
"Oh wow." Glenn says, peering between them. "I didn't even realize."
"This was 1939." Bucky tells them. "I remember this. Steve had a date, but she stood him up, so I took him here because he loved when Edward talked cars. It cheered him up."
"Edward was my great-grandfather." Charlie informs him softly.
Bucky looks at her. "Well, I feel really old now."
"Don't worry, handsome, you've retained your youthful glow." She teases.
It makes him laugh. "Can I take a picture of this? Steve would love to see it." He asks her uncle.
"Keep it, Barnes." Uncle Glenn offers him. "I've got a copy in an album at home."
"Thank you." Bucky expresses warmly. He carefully takes the photo out of the frame, placing it inside his jacket.
"Of course. Charlie, why don't you both wonder around while I detail his chopper."
"Uncle Glenn, who even calls it a chopper anymore? So old school." She jokes, dodging out of the way as he throws an oil stained rag at her.
"Go, troublemaker." He laughs.
Bucky follows her after she motions him too.
"Come on, Bucky. When's the last time you've been to the park?"
"1939." He deadpans. "Isn't it closed for the season?"
"Almost. Tomorrow's the last day, which means-" Charlie grabs his right wrist and attempts to pull him along.
He doesn't budge, which makes her jerk backwards. "She does a hell of a grip." He teases, his smile matching his tone.
"Just for that, I'm getting my own funnel cake and you can just sit there and watch. Funnel cakeless." She threatens, beginning to stroll away.
"I'm kidding, Charlie." Bucky chuckles as he jogs to catch up.
"Uh-huh." She shows her uncle's pass to the entrance workers. "Don't allow him in," she tells them. "Joking soldiers don't get access."
Bucky spares a glance at them, but they just wave him in anyway. Charlie drops her mouth open in mock outrage and Bucky just laughs, walking passed her. She points her finger at the worker.
"You betray me, Michael." She growls at him.
"Avengers get in free."
She scoffs, waves then catches up to Bucky. "I hate you."
"I'm sure, Charlie." He chuckles fondly.
Charlie gets her funnel cake, enjoying as Bucky watched the process with wide, gleeful eyes. He almost looked like a child about to dive into a forbidden sweet. Once they're handed their plate, they find an empty bench to sit on. She insists Bucky have the first bite, and when his blue eyes light up, it's like the sun reflecting off the Tenerife Sea.
They get through most it pretty quickly. Charlie tells him to finish the cake off, since the last time she ate a whole one, she ended up getting sick and throwing up, and it wasn't a good experience, considering she had been on a date that time. She was fifteen, she made mistakes.
"Why have you been so nice to me this entire time?" Bucky questions after he swallowed the last bite. "I mean, I've spilled enough coffee by now to fill a pool."
She glances over at him. "I told you, Bucky. It's just coffee." She smirks. "Plus, I'm always nice."
"I believe it." He flashes her a charming smile.
She shakes her head fondly. "Anyway, there are more important things, y'know? Things really get put into perspective when something happens like it did months away. That whole saying "don't cry over spilled milk" applies greatly in our situation."
Bucky places the empty plate on the bench between them. His expression morphing into a somber one. "Did it…were you affected? I mean, did you…" He trails off, shaking his head.
Charlie understands his struggle. The world was saved, the Avengers and other different kinds of heroes coming together and defeating the nearly successful Thanos. She's read the articles, the interviews some of them gave, but reading it is nothing compared to being a part of it. Bucky specifically.
She read the newspaper article that stated the names of those who had disintegrated into thin air. It also stated that those heroes had somehow had a part in reserves the event, along with those who remained. They hadn't fully disclosed the details, so she's still unaware of how they actually saved the world.
Her silence stretches on for too long because Bucky looks up at her. He had been staring at his hands, wringing them together as he waited. Charlie gathers herself.
"I didn't vanish, no." She beings quietly. "I was affected though. I was at the Center when it happened. Everything was normal, until it wasn't. There was screaming, crying." Charlie inhales deeply, releasing it. "The kids were confused, scared. I ran out of my office and everyone was just…I found my nephew, held him at tight as I could as if I could protect him."
"Oh God." Bucky whispers hoarsely.
"I love that kid with all my heart, and he's been through so much. He just…in my arms."
Her hand is suddenly covered by Bucky's, squeezing comfortingly. "Charlie. I'm so sorry."
Shaking her head, she questions, "Why?"
"We couldn't stop it. We-"
"But you did stop it. Or, you fixed it. All of you fixed it."
"Everyone is still left with the memories of it though." He frowns, a distant look in his eyes.
"Bucky. If anything, it just reminds people to live to their fullest, to tell loved ones how they feel, to be grateful what people have every day." Charlie offers him a small smile. "I try to be open as much as I can, not to hold back my feelings for anything or people. Kinda just go for it, ya know? Carpe Diem and all that."
He nods in understanding. "Has it changed you then?"
"I wouldn't say it changed me. Just made me more appreciative of life, I guess." She answers. "I think most people tried that as well. Unfortunately-"
"Disasters pass, and people forget and turn back into what they were doing before." He fills in.
"Exactly." She pouts then. "Like the media after the recent incident. Like the one where they claimed you fell face first into my boobs."
Bucky groans, and it's taken her this long to realize he had been holding her hand this entire time. He pulls his hand away to cover his face in both of them. It startles a laugh out of her.
"Very inaccurate." He grumbles. "Everyone still won't let me live that down."
Nudging his foot with hers, Charlie says, "Know what would've been amazing, the media would have gobbled it up."
He drops his hands, eyeing her suspiciously. "I'm afraid to ask."
"If you used a picked-up line. Like-"
"Don't."
"I was so distracted by you I got thrown through a window and fell for you." She started giggling halfway through, squeezing her eyes shut in the process.
Something dry and cool swipes across her cheek and Charlie gasps, affronted by the action. Bucky has a shit-eating grin on his face when she glares at him, his index finger covered in in the remains of powdered sugar. She quickly dips her fingertips into the sugar on the plate, then flicks it at his face.
Charlie smacks her clean hand over her mouth, muffling her bark of laughter. The powdered sugar is sprinkled all over his face, Bucky's eyes shut tightly. His beard is sprinkled with it, and she even got some on his shoulders.
"Alright." Bucky states, blinking his eyes open. He wipes the majority of the sugar off his face. "That was a good move."
"No wonder they called you the Winter Soldier." She giggles. She reaches out to brush the powder off his shoulders. "That's what you get for always spilling my coffee."
"Yeah, I deserved that." He agrees. But his lips spread into an evil smile as he picks up the plate.
"I swear to God, Bucky Barnes, do it and I'll steal your bike and leave your ass here."
He lowers the plate. "Somehow I fully believe you. I was simply going to throw it away."
"Liar." Charlie laughs, but as she says it he throws the plate into the trash.
After Bucky dusts his hands off, he leans over, lifting his hand to her cheek. He gently wipes away the smudge of sugar off her cheek. The light touch makes her shiver, but Charlie is one hundred percent sure it isn't from the fall weather.
A double dinging noise fills the air, Bucky dropping his hand away from her face. Charlie pulls her phone out from the pocket of her jacket, glancing at the screen. She shakes her phone lightly, standing from the bench.
"He's done detailing" She informs him. She smiles sheepishly when she notices the sugar in his hair. "Whoops. Sorry, I got it all over you." She laughs softly, quickly swiping her fingers over his chin. "Hmm, probably should've worn a helmet."
Then she pivots on her foot, walking away. She doesn't have to look to know what Bucky follows quickly behind her.
"Wear the goddamn helmet, Charlie." He growls, but his twitching lips give away his amusement.
She crosses her arms defiantly as she leans against the bike, peering up at him. "No. What are you going to do ask it?" She challenges.
Something flashes in Bucky's deep blue eyes, and he takes a step closer, leaning down and places his arms on either side of her. He's caging her in, and he's so close to her that Charlie can smell the sweet aroma of powdered sugar, mixed with the scent she's already become accustomed to.
Her pulse quickens at his proximity, her stomach suddenly feeling the weight of their shared funnel cake. Her lips are suddenly dry and she tries hard not to swipe her tongue out and wet them. Then Bucky smirks, and her tongue comes out to lick her lips. His eyes drop for a moment, before slowly moving back up. He leans even closer, just a centimeter of space between their noses.
Abruptly, Bucky pulls back and straightens up. Something is shoved into her hands, and it takes her an embarrassingly long time to realize what happened. Trying to inhale the fresh air of salty sea and motor oil.
"Protection is key, darlin'. Wouldn't want to scratch that gorgeous face of yours." He fucking winks at her.
Mouth dropping open, Charlie stares in disbelief at him. She looks down at her hands, the helmet hanging there loosely, before snapping her mouth shut.
"You're good." She praises with an impressed tone.
Bucky cackles as he nudges her over to mount the seat. "Hurry up now, CHARLIE. I've got important Avenging things to do."
"You're lucky you're cute." Charlie gruffs under her breath.
"I heard that."
She glares at the back of his head before she adjusts herself. She counters his coy move from earlier, pressing herself against his back and reaching around him. She pointedly places the helmet between his thighs, tapping her fingers on the visor. Bucky seizes up for a second, but his shoulder deflate with an exasperated huff.
"Fine. You're a grown woman, Charlie." He begins, trying and failing to sound stern. The amount of mirth in his voice betrays him. "Don't wear it, but don't complain when your face is covered in road rash."
"Won't happen, Just Bucky." Charlie responds as he locks the helmet on another part of the bike. Slowly, she slithers her arms around his waist once more. Softly, truthfully, she tells him, "I trust you."
Bucky turns his head to peer at her over his shoulder. The look in his eyes causes her heart to flutter, and she swears something changes in the air. When his mouth spreads into a smile, it looks reserved, tender, almost as if she isn't supposed to catch it. It's unfair how red and soft his lips look at the moment.
"Hold on tight, Charlie." He reminds her lowly.
He pulls his gaze away and she finally feels like she can breathe again. He kick-starts the motorcycle, but she can't tell if the rumble is coming from the bike, or inside her chest. Bucky takes off, and the wind whips around them, instantly chilling her skin despite her jacket. Charlie leans closer, pressed against Bucky's back, slowly resting her chin on his shoulder.
The street Charlie lives on is rather empty at the moment as they slowly pull up in front of her apartment building. They come to a stop, Bucky kicking the stand down to the lean the bike. He shuts it off and she has to pry her fingers off his jacket one by one, hands stiff from the wind. Bucky doesn't get off, but her offers his left hand to help Charlie dismount.
The smile on his face is nothing like it was earlier when he was guiltily cleaning up coffee. The crinkles have been appearing the whole evening, and it just reminds her of what she's been wanting to tell him. She moves around so she's standing in front of him.
"Bucky." Charlie speaks lightly. She tentatively moves her hand to his left bicep. "You're wrong." When he looks puzzled at her words, she continues. "I don't think you destroy everything you touch."
He inhales a quiet breath, bringing his right hand up and placing his palm over the back of her hand. It's chilly out, the wind from the ride still stinging at her skin, but the touch of his hand slowly warms her body like a fire crackling in the winter. Bucky's scent fills her nose as she takes a small step closer.
"Charlie." He exhales softly, his eyes dropping briefly.
She bites her lip, carefully considering her next words. "I know of your past, but I wasn't lying before. I want to know you." She takes a breath preparing herself for this next part. "Because I'm really liking what I see, and I really hope you allow me to know you more."
"I-" He begins, pauses, then gathers himself. "I really want you to. I want to, too."
It's a bit ineloquent, but somehow, she understands him completely. Charlie leans forward slightly, feeling Bucky tense up for a moment. She doesn't stop though, and her lips connect to the highest point of his cheek. The warmth of his skin against her lips, the intoxicating smell of him, the feel of soft hair from his trimmed beard tickling her chin. It all leaves her stomach flipping and her heartbeat speeding up.
Slowly, she pulls away, stepping back to allow fresh air to clear her head, instead of being wrapped up in everything Bucky seems to be. His expression is unreadable, but Charlie swears she sees something igniting in his eyes, and it's not a trick of the moon.
"Thank you for bringing me home." She says, keeping her voice quiet. She takes two more steps backwards, her hand slipping from under his palm. "Wear the helmet."
She smiles as she takes a step up to her door, pulling her key out from her small purse. She turns to unlock the door, and when she looks spares one last glance at him over her shoulder, Bucky is touching the spot where she kissed his cheek with his fingers.
"Goodnight, Bucky." Charlie whispers.
His eyes snap to her. A slow grin spreading across his full lips. "Goodnight, Charlie."
She hurries inside, jogging up the stairs until she reaches her door. She thumps her head against the frame, feeling the lingering touch of his skin on her lips. The evening hadn't been a date, but it sure as hell felt like one.