MCU (c) Marvel Studios
You were the first to say, that we were not okay. You were the first to lie, when we were not alright.This was my first love, she was the first to goand when she left me for you… I was the last to know. — Three Days Grace
The table fell silent, everyone staring at Wanda and Vision. Bucky had put down his chicken, Sam had his mouth open in surprise, and Natasha was squeeze his hand beneath the table. He squeezed back stroking her knuckles in calm reassurance. During their travels together, she had become something of a mother to Wanda, taking the girl under her wing. Sam had remarked more than once that he and Natasha were a semblance of parents. He'd always brushed it off, telling Sam he was reading too much into it. But now, he knew that Sam wasn't. It felt like his daughter was asking to move across the country by herself. Steve shifted in his seat, hand bracing his jaw as he studied Vision and Wanda. Everyone looked to him, he was the leader and his voice had the most weight. "Why?" he finally asked.
Wanda flushed, looking down at her lap. She muttered something in Sokovian, then fixed him with a steady gaze. "I'm… I take pride in helping people, but we are supposed to be in hiding, and what better way to hide than to not help people."
"Wanda—"
"Sam, let her speak," he said, fixing a calming gaze in Sam's direction. The man fidgeted and leaned back in his seat, a look of frustration on his face. "Wanda."
"I want to see the world, Steve. I have this chance now, and I want to take it. Please, let me." She gave him an earnest look, hope in her eyes. "I want a chance to be normal." She looked at Vision and squeezed his fingers. He didn't miss the tender exchange between her and the artificial man. The scrapping of a chair broke the tense pensive silence. Natasha gave a nervous flush.
"Darling?" he asked, catching the arched brow Bucky gave him when he said that. She ran her hand through his hair.
"Be back," she whispered and walked out of the room. He nodded, looking at his friends, and picked up a sandwich. He took a bite, making a face. He hated tuna fish. He could feel Bucky's eyes on him.
"What?" he said around a bite, returning his best friend's stare.
"Darling?" he asked, a look that asked who are you and what have you done with Steve? "Darling?" Bucky snorted a laugh. "What are you, Clark Gable or something?"
"Bucky…" he huffed.
"You can't leave Wanda!" Sam said. "You can't. We're a team. We can't break up the team!" He took her hand. "You're like a sister to me, Wanda. I don't want you to go."
"Sam, I want to see the world. To be normal, or at least semblance of that. I don't want people to look at me and see the monstrous Scarlet Witch—"
"You're not a monster Wanda!" Sam and Vision said. The two shared a look with each other and nodded. "You're not," Sam said. "We don't see you as such."
"You called Natasha, darling!" Bucky said, he pointed his fork at Steve. "Darling? That's something my grandmother called me!"
"Buck," he said, rolling his eyes. "She doesn't mind. I can call her that if I want, she and I are well…" he took a huge bite of his sandwich, ignoring the quick downward turn of Bucky's lips. "And Wanda, if this is something you want to do, then go do it."
"Thank you—"
"You're just going to let he leave?" Sam pressed.
"You and Natasha are what?" Bucky asked. He looked between Sam and Bucky, trying to decide who to talk to first, he was unable to and took another bite. Natasha came back with a box and set it on the table, her face impassive. She took off the lid and handed two passports to Wanda.
"I had these made when I decided to try and find Steve. Had to call in a few favors at the Kremlin," she said and handed a passport to Sam.
"Vy etogo ne sdelali? Pochemu ty by tak postupil?" Bucky asked, arching a brow at her. She gave him one of her signature fake smiles, as she handed a passport to Steve. "Oh, I don't get one."
"I don't think you'd be keen on leaving if we ever met up." She sat back down. "Oni byli mne odolzheniyem, chto vam nuzhno?"
"Nichego, prosto ... dumayu, eto nemnogo riskovanno." Bucky took another bite of his lunch.
"Mne nravitsya igrat'." She looked at the others. Steve licked the mayonnaise from his fingers, watching her. He wasn't shocked that Natasha had passports already prepared for them. She was a mastered spy and used to becoming invisible at a moment's notice.
Bucky puffed his cheeks out. "Yasno." Only to bow his head when Natasha shot him a glare. Steve made a mental note to ask her to teach him Russian. He felt his ears turn red when she looked at him; he was vaguely aware that his thumb was still in his mouth.
"As I was saying, I had a contact in the Kremlin that owed me a favor. For Wanda and Vision, you have Finnish passports. Sam, you have an Italian passport."
"Giovanni Bichhieri," Sam said, looking at the picture of the passport, before showing it to everyone. It was his picture, but the name and birthday were different, as well as the nationality. "I make a pretty fine Italian guy."
"Steve you're from France," she said.
"Renard Tremblay," he smirked, and showed off his picture. "He needs to grow a beard." They laughed as he closed it. It felt odd, having a false identity, a different name. He had to forge his birthday for his driver's license when the DMV lady refused to accept his actual birth year of 1918. Instead he chose 1988, when he returned to redo the paper work, she had glanced at it then at his face before stamping it. He thanked Natasha for reminding him to change his age to fit with the altered year. "And what about you?"
"Me?" she pulled out a passport. "Irish." She winked. "Siofra Heffernan," she said. "Figured red hair and green eyes are pretty common in Ireland, so why not."
"My parents came from Ireland," he said, his voice soft. "Mam said she and Da wanted to go back one day." He looked up, ignoring the fact that she was looking him with an odd expression, only realizing that she never heard the faint Irish lilt to his words. It had faded, replaced by his familiar Brooklyn accent, but sometimes it came out, especially when he talked about his parents. His first words were Irish, before a nurse told his mother that for his sake, she'd stop speaking her native tongue around him and embrace English and the American way. Still, she sang all the lullabies in Irish. "I think this is a good plan."
"I didn't know you had all this," Sam said. "Tuomas and Tarja?" he arched a brow at Wanda and Vision. "Whatever."
"I'm a master spy, Sam, you didn't honestly think I didn't go underground without having a few fake IDs and passports on hand now did you?" She leaned forward. "These will get you through almost all civilian boarders. Europe won't be so much of a problem because you can travel freely between EU nation states. I wouldn't try to risk it with the US. Especially since we are still at large, and if they had two brain cells to rub together, they'll realized that I would probably have this set up and would be on the lookout for a black Italian with that speaks American English."
Everyone laughed at that. He realized it felt good to laugh, it eased the tension in the room. He had only thought about getting his friends to safety, getting Bucky to safety, to a place he could recover. T'Challa had offered that but when he, Sam and Wanda left, he didn't really have a plan beyond staying low and out of sight. He was a soldier, not a spy. Sneaking around in the shadows wasn't his style.
Natasha on the other hand had all of this up her sleeve, knowing how to travel without being seen. A shadow among ghosts. For all the skills he lacked, she covered, and vice versa. They made a great team and he found himself falling a little bit more in love with her than he already was. It sent a pang of guilt through him: he and Peggy made a great team too. She handed out three bank cards. "These are connected to a Swiss bank account. Emergency cash, you can live comfortably for a year off these funds" — she grimaced — "six months if you want to live like Tony."
"Natasha, that's… so generous," Wanda said. Vision nodded, examining the plastic rectangle. "How did you manage to get so much money?"
"The less you know the better. Just trust me, this money won't raise any alarms. They are connected to your false identities," she said.
"I can't believe you had this all set up," Sam said. "How did you—"
"The Red Room trained me to always be at least three steps ahead on the ground and two hundred moves ahead mentally," she said. "So, Sam? What are your plans now?"
"I —"
"I want you to keep an eye on Vision and Wanda," he said, causing Sam to stare at him. Wanda was young, and Vision was… well, he stuck out like a sore thumb. He needed someone he could trust to keep an eye on them.
"Steve!" Wanda protested. "I can take care of myself, and Vision is with me."
"I understand," he said, "but the Mind Stone in Vision's forehead is… a liability that we don't know how to factor in. Plus, Sam can engage without using extraordinary abilities."
"He makes a point, Wanda," Vision said. "He is here for backup, nothing more."
"You won't even know I'm there," Sam said, a smirk on his face. "I'd like to see Europe now that I have a nearly unlimited flow of cash and a new name." He looked at them. "And you two lovebirds?"
He spat out his water as Natasha stammered in shock, a string of explicative coming out of her mouth in Russian. A few of them made Bucky blush. "Well, you did call her darling," he quipped. Natasha glared at Bucky.
"I'm not sure," he said, once he recovered from the initial shock. "Maybe we can go to Ireland."
"I was thinking we lay low at Clint's place," she said. He and Sam arched a brow. "What?"
"Clint even on speaking terms with you?" Sam asked. She huffed, folding her arms beneath her breasts. Steve didn't miss how her arms lifted them just slightly; he shifted in his seat.
"I asked him if we'd still be friends, and he said as long as I don't hit him too hard," she said.
"Knew he was throwing his punches," Wanda grumbled, leaning against Vision.
Natasha smirked. "And yes, he helped me find you originally Sam," she finished answering Sam's question.
"I doubt his farm is in the same place," he said, tugging at his beard. "They'd know…"
"C'mon, Steve" — she bummed her hip against his — "Clint's a master spy and assassin. He knows how to keep his family safe from those he doesn't wish to know. Even if that someone is the US government."
"Still."
"It'll be fine," she said, "we can relax." She ran her hand through his beard and he leaned into her touch, uncaring of the eyes on them. Sam would've told them that he walked in on them making out sooner or later. The only thing that bothered him was the odd mixture of hurt and jealousy in Bucky's gaze and his own lingering guilt about Peggy. "And what about you Bucky?"
"I'll go back into cryo, Princess Shuri is still working on how to get the programming out of my head," Bucky said, his eyes downcast. "She sounded hopeful though, so maybe it won't be for too much longer." He felt his heart break for his friend and wished there was some way to help him even though he knew there wasn't. He looked at Natasha, a small smile on his face. "I'll be fine," Bucky added.
"We know," she said. "So Wanda, Vision and Sam will go to Europe, while Steve and I will lay low for a little bit with Clint."
"That's the plan, correct," Vision confirmed. Wanda gave a little sigh. "Sam will keep his distance. He will be sightseeing as well."
"Damn right. Don't worry Wanda, you won't even know I'm there."
"If I see Redwing—"
"You won't, I promise," Sam said. Everyone laughed, and he couldn't help but smile, his arm slipping around Natasha's waist. He should cherish these carefree moments while they still lasted. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that their troubles were behind them, that there were no more threats that needed to be face. Some servants came in and whisked away the dishes. Sam invited Bucky to another card game, which the Bucky accepted. Wanda said she was going to see about taking pictures of the animals native to the African continent that dwelled in Wakanda; Vision saying he'll be along in a while.
"We can slip away," he whispered to Natasha.
"Finished what we started?" A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, her fingers giving his thigh a squeeze.
"Before you two disappear to have coitus," Vision said, "I will like to inform you Captain that… that the Mind Stone has spoken to me. On several occasions."
"Oh?" He straightened, tangling his fingers with Natasha's. "About what?"
"An approaching threat."
The calm before the storm. He took a deep breath, held it, and let it go. "Does it tell you what this threat is?"
"No," Vision said, bowing his head, "nor when it'll arrive. Merely that it approaches, and we should be on guard. It is why I left the facility, with Mr. Stark's permission."
"Does Tony know where you were headed?"
"No. Just that I had to get myself away from the facility, under the condition I check in with him on my status."
"And what would that be?" Natasha asked, her voice guarded. He understood, if Vision was ratting them out to Tony. He shook his head, not wanting to think about that.
"That I'm operating normally and have done nothing to cause public distress," the robotic man said. "I also said I was going to find shelter." Vision eyed the servants, but if they heard anything they didn't show it. Steve gave them a curt nod and a tepid smile. "It's why I sought out Miss Romanoff. I figured she could help."
"Well, whatever this threat is, it'll be hard to track a moving target. Plus, with Sam keeping an eye on you and Wanda, it shouldn't be too much of a problem," he said as he stood up, giving his shirt a tug. Vision nodded. "Is there anything else?"
"No, that'll… yes there is one question I would like to ask." Vision looked at Natasha, an uncomfortable — if a machine could feel discomfort — expression on his face. "Miss Romanoff are you… sure you want to be in my presence when I deliver my query?"
"Listen, Vision, I've heard things worse than whatever you could say," she said, her hands going up in surrender.
"Very well." Vision fixed his gaze on him. "Captain, I wish to know how I can have coitus with a woman without a penis."
The water was pleasantly cool, the small waterfall making a melodious splash. She swam through it, a soft giggle escaping her throat. Who would have thought that the King of Wakanda would have a hidden grotto in his palace or that he would've given Captain America access to it? She splashed water on her arms, glad for the privacy and luxuriating in the feel of the water against her skin. She never gone skinny-dipping before, but she reasoned there was a first for everything. Steve popped in front of her; she splashed him. "Your ears are still red."
"It didn't help that you laughed," he snipped, though there was a smile on his face and he splashed her back. "I… I'm glad you were there because I… I have no idea how to—"
"Cunnilingus?" she smiled at him as his face went red. "It's really simple, Steve, you put your mouth on her—"
"Okay, that's… that's enough," he said, swimming away from her. She glanced down, trying to see if he was aroused beneath the water, but though the pool was clear, the ripples distorted the reflection of the surface below that she couldn't see anything clearly. "I'll take your word for it."
She swam closer to him, an easy smile on her face. It was so easy to make him uncomfortable. He may no longer be a virgin, but he still blushed like one. She found it sweet; an expression of his nobility when it came to such topics. "We could" — she traced nonsense patterns on the water's surface as she treaded it — "go back to your room and I can give you a crash course in oral sex." She watched and heard him swallow; her smirk widening.
"That's… that's…"
"Tempting? I know," she said, swimming closer. "I can easily imagine you: mouth agape, moaning as you tug my hair — gently of course, you're not a brute — as I bob my head, sucking on your hard and throbbing cock." She pressed herself against him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.
"Natasha…"
She shuttered as he sighed her name. "Imagine me on the bed, my legs spread wide with your head between my thighs, tongue licking my wet folds as you suck my nub as I tug at your hair, moaning your name." She looped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss, smirking when she saw his eyes smolder with desire.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Romanoff."
"I thought you didn't want us to use our last names," she said, giving him a kiss, "said it put distance between us."
"It felt right," he said and planted a kiss on the junction between her neck and shoulder, "darling." She shuddered as he sucked on that spot.
"Steve," she whispered as she felt his hand on her back. He swam back towards the shore. "Here?"
"Why not?" he said. "We're already naked." He kissed her again as she could feel his length against her thigh, hard and wanting. She shuddered at the feeling. He found the spot he wanted, a little rocky shelf near the shore; the water came up to his chest. "If… If you want to that is," he said, blushing again and taking a step back.
She hooked her leg around his narrow waist and pulled him closer. "Of course, I want you," she said, hooking her other leg around him as well; she crossed her ankles at the base of his back. "I love you and I want to make love with you."
"Darling," he whispered, his voice soft and husky, though there was a haunted guilty look in his eyes. "I'd spend the rest of my life with you."
"And I you," she said. The weight of her words hung in the air between them, solemn as a sworn oath. She had sworn many oaths to various people and organizations; some she broken, some she abandoned, some she kept. Yet, this one… this one she seared onto her soul and vowed she'll keep it until death came to reap her soul. "Now and forever."
She kissed him, taking him down deep into their shared passion for each other. Both blissfully unaware of the hurt surprised of one man.
Bucky looked up when Steve entered his room. "You wanted to talk to me, Bucky?" Steve asked, his hair a bit damp.
"Enjoy your swim?" he asked, trying to keep the anger and the hurt from his voice. For as long as he could remember or rather what he could remember, nothing ever came between him and Steve. Sure, they had their spats, what pair of friends didn't? But they always made up in the end. They always had each other. Even during his brief moments of lucidity, he had Steve. He remembered Steve. Now, now it seemed like he was losing his best friend. He frowned, realizing that wasn't quite right either. God… am I jealous? I should be happy for Steve! He deserves this, more than anyone.
"Yeah, it was… good," Steve said, a wistful smile on his face. He felt his throat tighten and thought better of what he was about to do; that maybe he should just ask Shuri to put him back in cryo. Steve was happy with Natasha, who was he to come between that? Didn't Steve deserve some happiness? A moment's sense of peace? Someone to love.
Jealous was like a poison though. Once felt it colored everything and he had loved Natasha. Loved her like he never loved any of his previous girlfriends back during his old life. Natasha was different. She was sensual, deadly and ruthless. Yet, despite that, he knew there was a soft underbelly, filled with tenderness and compassion she only let a highly select few see. She never flinched at his metal arm, she had always kissed the ragged scar that connected it to his body. She had always treated him as if he was worth a damn. For all her talks of being a monster, Natasha could be surprisingly human. He loathed to give up to Steve.
Steve, had been a skinny little shit for most of his life. He was sick up to the gills and then he somehow manages to join the Army and they make him into a super soldier and the undesirableness just melted away, women falling over themselves to fawn at Steve's feet. He's suddenly not needed, invisible, their places swapped. It was a bitter pill for him to swallow. He didn't mind it, Steve was still Steve (still painfully awkward around women, despite his apollonian good looks and herculean strength), but he never thought that Steve would stoop so low as to steal his girl and behind his back no less. "I'm glad," he said. "Sit."
"Thanks," he said and sat, sinking into the plush chair. "Bucky… I, I just want to tell you that— that if you want to come with us, Natasha and I… you can. You don't have to stay here and be frozen."
"It's something I want, Steve," he said, besides I don't think I can stomach you fucking my girl. "I don't want to be a burden." He forced a smile for his friend's sake. "Shuri thinks she close to cracking my problem."
"That's good," Steve said, a smile spreading across his face, "and you're not a burden, Bucky," he added, the earnestness in his voice, almost broke Bucky's resolve. Almost. "You aren't a burden. I'm the burden. Always have been."
He snorted, looking Steve up and down. The form fitting shirt outlined his muscles, and the jeans hung upon his narrow hips. Yeah, Steve was such a burden, alright. "You're not a burden."
"Bucky—"
"Look, there's… there's something I have to tell you," he said. Might as well throw my fat in the fryer at this point. "It's about Natasha."
"Oh?"
"Natasha… and me," he said and stared at his feet. He leaned back against the couch. Everything was white and immaculate. It sometimes hurt his eyes and he wished he could throw mud all over the place just for a sense of color, of contrast against all the brilliant blinding white. "Natasha and I know each other."
"Makes sense, you both were working for the Russians at one point or another," Steve said. He chewed his lip, scratching at the stubble along his jaw. He was mucking this up a bit.
"You gotta understand… you were still in the ice and Natasha had no idea you and her would end up as friends—"
"I love her, Bucky," he said, his tone serious. "I love her. I think the only other person I've love is Peggy."
Oh, Steve. Peggy wouldn't want you in this situation. Let her go, you big idiot, she's dead. She would've wanted you to move on. Bucky rubbed his face with his hand, it hurt to know… to understand, that Steve was still in love with Peggy. Hell, he was still in love with Natasha. "So, what?" He pulled his hand from his face. "You have Natasha's picture in your compass?" he snapped, internally smirking when Steve flinched. "Don't act like I didn't know you put Peggy's picture in that little thing."
"I haven't done that," Steve whispered, large shoulders tensing as he looked away, "I don't think… if I do… never mind."
His heart ached for the broken tone of Steve's voice. It wasn't right what happened to him, but it wasn't anymore right what happened to Steve. In terms of who lost more, Bucky would say it as Steve hands down, and this just proved it. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Steve nodded.
"I know, no, I don't really have a token for Natasha," he said. They lapsed into a tense pregnant silence. He wasn't sure if he could tell Steve what he needed to hear. What Natasha should be telling him. He frowned, wondering why he wanted to bring this up at all. Maybe Natasha was right, maybe Steve didn't need to know about this and that he was just being jealous (and a bit petty) for bringing it up. She had told him it was over between them. "Bucky, is something wrong?" he finally asked.
"Steve… Natasha and I were lovers." Bucky licked his lips. "I still love her."
Dun. Dun. Duuuuuh.
I'm on a Epica kick right now. :3 I haven't written like this in a long time, so I'm kinda rediscovering all my favorite bands and I'm like DUDE there is inspiration!
Bucky confesses the truth.
I feel bad for Bucky actually. I think there's a lot of unexplored jealousy between him and Steve post-serum. It's very lightly touched upon in The First Avenger, when Bucky tells Steve their places have been swapped after Bucky's failed attempt at flirting with Peggy. So… here ya go.
Now, for my readers that read each and every chapter but don't review. I get it. Reviewing is hard, and AO3 doesn't have a kudos just for chapter. So. To resolve this, all I ask is that you leave a kudos in the comments.
Just that. Just type kudos. It lets me know you read the chapter and enjoyed it. Until AO3 realizes that people read but are unsure about to comment or what to say, a kudos will do.
I hope that helps some those silent but faithful readers.
Save an author; leave a review.
Nemo et Nihil
PS: Forgot to add this into the AN originally.
B: You didn't? Why would you do that? - Vy etogo ne sdelali? Pochemu ty by tak postupil?
N: They owed me a favor, what's it to you? - Oni byli mne odolzheniyem, chto vam nuzhno?
B: Nothing, just… think it's a bit risky. - Nichego, prosto ... dumayu, eto nemnogo riskovanno.
N: I like to gamble. - Mne nravitsya igrat'.
B. Clearly. - Yasno.