((As some of you know, I work in a lingerie shop and at this time of year, we have a lot of men in to get Christmas presents for their partners. Sometimes, they're terrified. Sometimes, they get carried away with their wildest fantasies. Guess which one our Bucky is. A big thank you for all the new follows, favourites and reviews, they keep me writing! Special shout out to whenwewerekids for their enthusiastic commentary! New chapter should be soon! Thanks again for reading. xx))
"Bucky, what are you doing?"
Despite having her own head in her phone, plotting out her route for the morning based on her stops, how could she not notice? The seemingly endless glances from the bed? The top of his head, lifting and dropping continuously, from behind the laptop to focus briefly on his wife's mouth-wateringly curvaceous (and, incidentally, fully clothed) figure a few metres away in the kitchen? Then return to whatever the Hell he was doing, could hardly be described as subtle. Clicking his tongue in mild amusement at getting caught, James Buchanan Barnes once more immersed himself in the screen; he kept scrolling, he kept clicking and he kept glancing.
"Buying myself a welcome home present. Presents."
"I see…" Elsa replied, matching his amusement with eyebrows lifted while eggs sizzled in the pan beside her; her husband's all-important protein. "And am I expected to wear this present? Presents?"
"What makes you think that, doll?"
"You're staring and drooling, love."
As he'd thought, the second more glamorous appendage had already proven its weight in gold (or rather, Vibranium) on the farm; manoeuvring animals, produce and machinery alike with ease. The warm, mythical metal met no objection from his wife in the sense of intimate comfort like its freezing predecessor certainly would have; among other benefits. The jeep and driving it solo sprung to mind, goading the brute through the terrain at top speed as he howled with joy over the windscreen. The only drawback to that was picking bugs out of his teeth afterwards. With wicked coyness, Bucky tilted that shaggy head of his; lips thinned in thoughtful assessment as he splayed both his hands in playful resignation.
"A'right, fine, you caught me. How d'you feel about green?"
"I'm half Irish, darling. Green is more than acceptable. There's just one rule."
He already knew the rule and disagreed with it wholeheartedly. When was she going to see that no matter what she had on, his eyes and his mind belonged only to her? Be it the practical khaki of her unofficial uniform (as when he met her) or nothing at all, she did things to him he never thought possible. Lingerie, like the guarding foil of any good candy bar, is just wrapping for the true prize that lay beneath. Or that could just be James, with his affinity for food, equating his wife to a candy bar. A good candy bar.
"I wanna see you in red though!"
"It washes me out!" Came the protest born of feminine consciousness that did not register in James' male brain; enough to be dismissed with an impatient tut.
"Baby, d'you think I'd notice if it washes you out or not? I got one focus and that ain't it."
Absorbed in more clicking and more scrolling, it seemed Bucky did not immediately sense the unimpressed disapproval radiating from Elsa's corner of the kitchen.
"Charming creature that you are."
Uh oh…
"I don't mean like that-!" He tried to rectify frantically; a Vibranium spear to the rear would not have straightened him so fast. The kinked eyebrow (a different eyebrow to illustrate her displeasure) and pursed lips further panicked Bucky. Five years had not changed the fact that he hated seeing his Lioness upset in any way. Worse again? For him to be the source of that upset. "I mean-!"
"Is that all I am to you, James?!" Suddenly borderline shrill with upheaved emotion, Elsa turned her back on the eggs to face the bed and crossed her arms over that substantial chest; a pillow of pure comfort for James Buchanan Barnes. "A means to an end?! Something to be dressed up as a fantasy and exploited for your own pleasure until you decide you're finished?!"
"Jesus, Els, no!" He yelped, poising to hurl the laptop down the bed and scurry to her in a plea for forgiveness; knowing if she went to work on a sour note, his day would be unendurable. "No, baby, I swear, that's not-!"
The seemingly misplaced tinkling giggle caught him short; stopping his confused self in his tracks while he tried to calculate the course the conversation appeared to have taken. The sudden U-turn in her demeanour may have taken the form of a pulling smile hidden behind her lifted mug but the unmistakable sparkle it carried into her eyes dawned realization that James had, in fact, been had.
"You're still far too easy."
Aghast, Bucky stared. Had she really gotten him?! It took a moment for home to hit and for reality to land; a few seconds of stunned silence met with sweet, musical laughter.
"Did I just fall for that? Seriously? Did that just happen?"
"Green. Black. Grey. Dark purple. Dark blue. White, meh. Maybe pink, but only in a chemise or a babydoll." She went on, sparing him the embarrassment but relishing the lingering amusement all the same. "You started this."
"Goddamn it, don't scare me like that!" Relief threading through the exhale, Bucky refocused and returned to his excitement. "Still 36DD?"
"Mmmhmm."
"12 in undies?"
"If you're ordering from where I think you're ordering from, then yes. And small to medium in stockings or hold ups."
Bucky's imagination went into overdrive at the idea of expanding something he vastly enjoyed; even more so with his wife's blessing.
"Holy shit, doll, I forgot about stockings."
"Good thing I reminded you then, isn't it?"
"Okay… What if we compromise? Not red, but like, a wine? A dark red? Because this… looks… amazing. And I know a way to make it look better. "
"You're lucky I missed you, Barnes. Fine. Order it."
Exalted lkwife sent off to work with a kiss? Or many? Check.
Morning tasks done until lunchtime? Check.
Elevenses savoured and enjoyed? Check.
Now, his beautiful routine dictated he spend time with his second beloved.
"I don't think those five years did anythin' to us, Codes." Bucky mused, winding back his Vibranium arm (for extra swing) and flinging with all the power the incredible appendage possessed to send the mutt skittering. Ever since Elsa revealed that Cody, too, had been Snapped, the White Wolf made it his business to throw the ball as often as presented to him; determined to help his gentle brute make up for lost time. The new addition to his person made for excellent assistance on that front and sent the dog out of sight on one of their favourite trails.
When Bucky's phone vibrated, he thought nothing of it; assuming it to be his wife checking in regularly as she had made a habit of in the past few days since his return. However, instead of the heart-palpitating flash of "Baby" on the screen, a different name demanded his attention.
"My wife says I owe you a smack in the mouth." The ex-Winter Soldier uttered, casually cold, into the receiver, meeting with caught off guard (and possibly guilty) silence on the other end. The blaring of "Stars and Stripes" across his screen, complete with a picture of Steve with Louise under one arm and William under the other made him debate answering. "But I'll be generous and let you pick which arm."
"She told you about that, huh?" Dripping with meek shame, Steve's voice riled his oldest friend who also fought to stay calm. He had hesitated in calling for a reason, just as Bucky had hesitated in picking up.
"Yeah, she told me." Bucky confirmed, maintaining his steps through the trail; launching the ball with one hand and holding the phone to his ear with the other. "My Elsa doesn't keep things from me. More than can be said for someone else."
"I don't know what else to say, Buck. I couldn't help it, I did what I thought you'd want me to do-"
"What the Hell, Steve?!" Giving into temptation (albeit not as much as he would have liked but as of yet, the phone call was young), the White Wolf wouldn't see his friend visibly flinch at the snarl emanating from the speaker. "Why would I want you to do that?! When did I give any indication that THAT was any way what I would Goddamn want?!"
"Look, I… I get I made the wrong call-"
"Oh, you did that alright!"
"But you gotta understand… I didn't think you'd want her to be on her own. I tried… I really did try to keep it under wraps and just… be there for her until she was ready but… More and more, I saw what you saw, felt what you felt and I just… If it's any consolation, pal, she hasn't spoken to me since. Not willingly, and that was my fault too."
Bucky stopped.
He stopped walking. Stopped blinking. He even stopped breathing. For a moment anyway.
Steve is a discussion for another time. James remembered his un-widow saying, the night he reunited with her in every possible way. Preferably when I've had a drink. He had neither questioned nor lingered on it; not when marital activities were on the table for resumption, but had he not been so eager, he might have found it odd. After all, in all the times Steve had visited Wakanda and stayed for sometimes more than a week at a time, Bucky had never sensed any discomfort or reluctance from Elsa in interacting with the blonde Captain. In fact, they appeared to be rather firm friends with affection abound with Steve having the run of Elsa's apartment. She wouldn't have made such a gesture if she didn't like or trust Steve, would she? Even to placate Bucky? He didn't think so…
"Buck…?" Came the cagey, prompting voice in his ear; cutting through his scattered, scrambling thoughts that must have been deeper than he realized, stunning him into silence. "You still there…?"
"What did you do…?" Bucky managed quietly, forcing his lungs to work in order to draw breath to speak; unsure if he wanted an answer or not. A fresh bout of hesitation from the other end of the phone only deepened the doubt.
In New York, Steve anxiously stared at the wall as realization hit: Bucky hadn't been talking about Elsa, which meant he was in even more trouble than when he started the call. But, it seemed, his oldest friend's living wife was his priority as opposed to the brother he could not bring back; not that that represented a bullet dodged.
"Steve?!"The more demanding press graduated to vexation. "What. did. you. do?!"
I can't lie to him. The blonde reasoned miserably. I've lied to him enough already, it's not fair.
"She called me."Steve admitted to simmering silence on the other end. "She called me, really upset, one night; her dog had died." With such a great deal to cover upon his return, Elsa had only briefly mentioned her other dog (which, incidentally, she'd had longer than both Bucky and Cody combined) but while her details had been sparse, her sentiment had been captured in a heartbreakingly sweet way. The windchimes tinkling from the tree beside the door had been something of an irritation but as he had reached a Vibranium hand to still them, the engraving on the wooden disk at the bottom stopped him.
Púca. My Second White Wolf. Sleep Tight, Sweetheart. I Love You.
It stopped Bucky short with the resolve that he could and would get used to them.
"I left as quick as I could; ditched a pretty pissed off date to get to her. I got there for about lunchtime and Buck… God, if you'd seen her… I hadn't seen her so devastated since she lost you-"
Thus far, Bucky held his tongue; listening and calculating. Steve's pained verbal spew served as the soundtrack to a balancing act; whether or not to listen and try to understand or, more temptingly, mercilessly cut his best friend off and barrage him.
Yet… James, unlike Steve, cast his mind to what his wife might want.
For the vast importance Bucky would have placed on that particular incident and the ample time she had already had to tell him, Elsa, his sweet, darling, Elsa, had chosen not to. There had to be a reason for that. With the great pains they had endured for honesty since the inception of their relationship, it must have been a good one.
"You know what, Steve?" Bucky dispassionately cut through the bumbling from the speaker; only remembering Cody when his (mostly healed) thigh was headbutted. "I don't wanna do this over the phone. When you get time, make your way here and we'll hash it out." After I've talked to Elsa.
Realizing the reprieve to be more than he deserved (hence the beholden, hat-in-hand phone call), the Captain stopped short in both his words and breath.
"You got it, Buck." The blonde agreed, clearing his throat as another thought occurred. "You sure she'll be okay with that? Me turnin' up?"
"What I've learned, Steve-" Bucky replied with the intention of answering the question without really answering it comprehensively. "Is that my wife-" Placing very slight emphasis on the word wife out of instinctive possessiveness one tends to experience when their best friend expresses interest in their spouse; however accidental. "Is a very complex creature. Brilliant, but complex. Which makes her even more complex but… anyway. If she didn't beat your ass around the farm when you turned up last time, I have my doubts she'll do it this time. But like I said: Complex. I'm not makin' any promises."
Steve didn't dare to place too much hope in the barest threads of (what he read to be) humour. Or if that humour was even for him. This was a mess, he understood that; a mess of his making. As a result, it only made sense to tread carefully and take it one step at a time to avoid riling his oldest friend (whom he had already riled twice over with two fairly hefty indiscretions) any further. Now, Steve had to earn back Bucky's trust and friendship; if the ex-Winter Soldier deemed it salvageable once he had spoken to his wife. The delightfully domesticated nature of consulting with his wife was not lost on James.
"That's fair…"Subtly desperate to please and therefore limit the already extensive damage, Captain Rogers in his eagerness to make amends readied to depart. "Okay… I'll uhh… see you soon. And Buck?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."