Bucky followed me through the rooms of my house as if he hadn't been in one in years, and I almost made a joke, but then I wondered if maybe he hadn't and that stopped me. I put my leftovers in the fridge and asked if he wanted to pop his in along with mine for safekeeping until he was ready to leave.
He squinted and stared down at me with a look of deep mistrust. "Are you planning on reneging on our leftover split?"
I bit my lip and leaned my hip against the counter. Crossing my arms under my breasts I studied him. "I cannot believe that you already doubt our friendship, Buck." One hand covered my heart. "That hurts."
The flash of his teeth when he smiled was well worth the banter. His box was stowed on the shelf above mine, and I handed him a bottle of water. "I'd give you another beer, but I don't really drink that rot gut, so -" Another flash of white and we pushed into the living room.
Bucky Barnes looked strangely comfortable in my living room. A living room that I'd had to re-furnish since the furnishings had been liquidated along with most of my parents' belongings. A new start, remember? He relaxed in the overstuffed chair and I curled into one side of the sofa, the lamps that I scattered around the room casting enough light to be comfortable without being blinding.
I kicked off my shoes and had my feet under me, and he was smirking. "What?" I took a sip from my own water bottle.
"When I said you remind me of Steve?" I raised an eyebrow and waited. "Before he took the serum," I nodded. "He was about your size."
I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "You're doing NOTHING for my self esteem, Bucky Barnes." I cleared my throat and put my bottle down on a coaster that sat at just the right spot on the table next to my seat. "So I look like a pre-serum Captain America. That would be the anemic asthmatic one, right?"
His grin was growing at both the memory and my comparison to myself. "That would be the one." He took his own drink and a drop of water clung to his lower lip, causing the light to dance on it for a moment before his tongue trapped it. I shouldn't be able to see that so clearly, should I?
"Great," I muttered. Leaning into the arm of the sofa. "I probably should have asked how far away you live," damn it, it was dark and even if he was Bucky Barnes that wasn't very thoughtful.
"Not far, Brooke." He smiled again, his voice less teasing more soothing. "I think I can take care of myself, don't you."
"You were saying," a tiny voice inside was telling me to shut up, but nope. "That you have to do therapy?" At least I didn't call it what he had. He nodded. "For how long?"
Bucky sighed. "Until I don't need to anymore." He huffed out a breath and stared at his gloved hands.
"You can take them off," his eyes flashed to mine. "I know who you are, so I know why I probably have a HUGE bruise on my - you can take them off around me." I left it at that. I reminded him of Steve, right? Well, I was pretty damn sure that he wouldn't wear the gloves around Steve.
I watched him swallow hard enough that I should have been able to hear it, but I guess being a trained assassin who was like a ghost left some side effects. His eyes stayed on mine as he tugged off first the glove on his right hand, then a little more hesitantly, off his left. The metal was dark, so it didn't flash as much as the silver had. And his fingers moved exactly as the fingers of his right hand did.
"That was kind of anticlimactic, wasn't it?" I asked, not letting my gaze leave his.
He shook his head, a tiny laugh letting go. "Steve put me in a vise at one point." I raised my eyebrow again. "To be fair, I was still unsafe, so it was warranted."
"Or kinky." My eyes widened and the burn of the blush could have lit up New York City better than anything Stark could ever have hoped to invent. If my floor could have opened up, or hell, if another Snap could happen right at that moment I would have welcomed it. But instead, Bucky's eyes were on me and I wondered if Steve had ever dropped a bomb like that one in his bestie's lap.