CW: Adult situations.

Blue eyes fluttered and his chest heaved. Bucky's entire body was buzzing. With the little conscious thought and strength he could muster, he draped his arm lengthwise down Harper's torso, fingers dipping into the apex of her thighs. Harper whimpered at the contact, and he deftly pressed his digits further into her. She squeaked something about sensitivity, but his brain was too sluggish to process it. His fingers circled nimbly, stopping only when a breath hissed between her teeth and her thighs tightened around his hand.

They lay, silence filling the space between them apart from their ragged breaths. On autopilot, he ran his fingers up and down, pleased at how slick they were. Her hand wrapped around his wrist, stilling him. Tiredly, she whined, "James, I can't again."

He turned to the side, bumping a clumsy kiss to her temple. "Sorry."

"S'okay," she mumbled, fatigue bleeding into her voice. "Just too much."

"I'm sorry," Bucky said again, more alert now. "I shouldn't have…"

Harper breathed a laugh, erasing his worries. "Holy shit, James. How many times did we…?"

"A few," he chuckled. "How many times did you…?"

"A few," she answered with a satisfied smile. Her head rolled to side so her cinnamon brown eyes could gaze hazily into his.

With a start, Bucky realized, "Wait, we didn't use anything."

"It's okay, I'm protected."

"I thought birth control made you sick?"

"Hormonal birth control does," she confirmed. "I got a copper IUD. I'd already made the appointment before everything that happened with the Accords and decided to go through with it anyway. Felt like shit for months, but it's great now."

"Remind me to ask you what the hell that means later," Bucky requested, rolling onto his side to coil his arm around the brunette. His hand buried itself in her hair, still damp at the roots. Tenderly, he pressed her beneath his chin. "I love you, Harper."

"I love you, too."

Bucky awoke with the sun. A smile turned his lips when he became aware of the familiar warmth pressed into his side. The world felt more properly aligned waking up next to Harper. He thought back to the day before, to the long hours of easy conversation giving in to a night of intimate reconnecting. Their lips, their fingers, their hips all fell perfectly back in sync. His heart soared for her, his chest tightened with all he felt for her. Nothing seemed to have changed between them, and he couldn't have been happier.

However, he knew he had to meet Steve. With a herculean effort, Bucky pulled himself from the warm cocoon he shared with Harper. Turning, he quickly moved to tuck the blankets back in around her. He smiled fondly, watching her cuddle deeper into the nest of linen. The former soldier dressed quickly in a simple pair of lightweight olive colored pants and a grey t-shirt. He then made swift work of slipping a pre-tied scarf around his neck, letting the dark green material drape over his left side and conceal the remainder of his metal arm. From the stack of paper he kept in his bedside drawer, he scribbled a quick note to Harper in case she awoke before his return. With that done, he ducked out of the small hut and headed toward the palace.

"Sargent Barnes!" Shuri greeted, looking up from whatever contraption she was testing in the courtyard.

"Bucky," he corrected for the umpteenth time, still filled only with gratitude for the brilliant young woman.

She waved him off and asked, "Is she here?"

He couldn't help but chuckle at her innocent excitement. "Yeah, she is."

"When do I get to meet her?"

"Want to come by for dinner?" he offered.

"I'll be there!" the Wakandan princess promised.

"D'you know where Steve is?" he asked, back on task.

The young woman nodded and revealed, "He and my brother are in the War Room."

Bucky frowned and quickly bid her farewell, now more set on finding his best friend. He moved freely and briskly through the palace, greeting the Wakandans he knew as he passed. Soon, he found himself outside the private meeting space where the King usually met with his advisors. He caught Steve's gaze through one of the windows. The blond nodded, and Bucky took the cue to enter the room.

T'Challa turned with a smile and greeted, "Ah, I did not expect we'd be gifted your presence so soon after the arrival of your woman, White Wolf."

Bucky rolled his eyes and jested, "You and Steve both insinuate I can't be a reasonably functional person in the presence of a lady."

They both grinned and shrugged, not a note of apology in their expressions. Turning more serious, Steve said, "There's still a lot of mistrust and ill feelings about those of us who didn't sign the Accords. About you, too, Buck."

"Naturally," the former soldier sighed.

"I have given my account of what occurred in Siberia, but Zemo has not given up anything," the King added. "In the political sphere, my reports have not made much headway. Most politicians are perseverating on my father's push for the Accords while hiding that fact that we had our own enhanced individual here in Wakanda."

"So it's imperative Steve and the others remain in hiding," Bucky filled in.

"And you, too, Buck," Steve nodded.

The brunet turned to the Wakanda ruler. "And you're agreeable to this?"

T'Challa nodded. "Of all the known enhanced people in this world, you were the only one at the time of the Accords living a simple, peaceful life. Zemo, the Accords, and all of us in the aftermath ruined that for you. We all contributed to the end of countless lives, of alliances. It is a small act of repentance to offer you what protection and normalcy we can. And you've proven yourself to be an agreeable goat farmer, so that is a bonus for us."

Bucky chuckled at the jest. "Regardless, you have my gratitude, and I will do what I can to repay this debt."

"Keep up the goat farm and keep Shuri occupied every so often, and you'll have more than repaid your debt," T'Challa grinned. "She is truly invested in your friendship."

"It's hardly work to be friends with her," Bucky smiled. "Speaking of, and because I doubt she'll remember to tell you, she's having dinner with Harper and I tonight."

T'Challa nodded and agreed, "Yes, doubtful that she would have told me. Thank you. And when do I get to meet the woman who tamed the White Wolf?"

"Soon," Bucky promised.

"You'll like her," Steve spoke up. "She's intelligent and exceedingly diplomatic."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Bucky pointed out.

"It's not," the super soldier shook his head. "I'm just skeptical that she's really up for all this. For who you really are. You know this."

"Ever think your skepticism is holding you back from seeing that she's not some ordinary dame? Just because she isn't an agent like Sharon doesn't make her incapable, Steve."

The blond huffed but then looked slightly sheepish. "Point taken. She's also young, though."

"Everyone is young compared to us," Bucky reminded with a small smile. "She's older than we were when we enlisted."

T'Challa laughed and said, "He speaks sense. Perhaps nobody is good enough for your friend, Captain?"

"How did this turn into me getting the fourth degree?" Steve questioned.

"Conversation just flows that way. How long will you be here?" T'Challa asked, defusing the remaining tension.

"Hang back a few minutes?" Bucky requested as he and Steve approached the hut. The other man nodded, stopping outside the fenced in area that housed the goats.

Bucky continued ahead, quietly entering the hut in case Harper was still sleeping. A smile tugged at his lips automatically when his eyes fell on the beautiful brunette sitting up in bed. Her knees were pulled up toward her chest, the blanket pulled up over the still bare swells of her breasts. Dark espresso locks tumbled around her, still ruffled and showing signs of his fingers having gripped and dragged through them the night before. If he thought she looked glowing yesterday, she was radiant in the afterglow of their reunion. Her eyes lifted from her phone screen as he closed the door behind him.

"Hey, doll," he greeted.

"Morning," Harper smiled.

"How do you feel?"

"Sore," she laughed.

"I'm sorry," Bucky apologized immediately, brows knitting with concern. "I should've been more careful about how roughly I was handling you."

"James, you didn't break me," the brunette said with another laugh. "And there was only one point when you were rougher. And honestly, I'd be curious to try it again."

"Yeah?" he asked, brows rising and mind already churning with delicious possibilities. Then, remembering himself, he shook his head. "Wait, I came in here meaning to tell you that Steve is here. We should spend some time with him before he leaves tonight."

"Of course," she agreed easily. Bucky felt a surge of gratitude for her, knowing that there was some insecurity around Steve, yet she immediately agreed to his request that she spend more time with the other soldier. "Can I maybe grab a shower first? I can't imagine I look especially presentable."

Bucky propped a knee on the mattress, leaning toward her with a mischievous grin. "Presentable? Perhaps not. But one of my favorite looks? Yes – well fucked."

Scarlet spread rapidly across her entire face and shot down her neck to color her chest. Her lips parted once before closing, unable to formulate a response. Finally, she ignored his comment and asked, "Where's the shower?"

He laughed and placed a sweet kiss to her forehead. "C'mon, I'll show you. There's a bathhouse out back. There's a big water reserve and pump there that splits off between that and the irrigation system for the farm."

"Look away," Harper requested, scooting toward the edge of the bed from beneath the blankets.

"I've more than seen it all, doll," he pointed out.

"Well, now I'm embarrassed, so…"

Bucky frowned and caused her to pause when his lips descended to cover hers. It was warm and chaste. Pulling away slowly, he muttered, "Sorry for teasing you. I do mean that I love seeing you this way, though."

"Sure," she sighed. More playfully, she asked, "Admiring your handiwork?"

"My handiwork is nothing compared to how sexy you look all on your own." He could see the ever-present skepticism in her eyes, and added, "Honestly, Harper. I mean, I've always thought you were attractive, but you look really good. Like… happier and healthier than I ever saw you in Bucharest."

"I have been in a much better mind frame," she admitted. "Except for one pretty glaring thing."

"What's that?"

"I haven't had you."

It was Bucky's turn to flush, a pale pink dusting his cheeks. "C'mon, let's go wash up before Steve gets bored with the goats."

He watched Harper swing her legs over the side of the bed and stand, noticing the achy stiffness in her body. Her inner thighs, hips, shoulders and breasts were decorated with a scattering of bruises. The former soldier was torn between horror and pride. Uncertainly, he asked, "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

Harper looked confused before looking down at herself. With a shrug, she said, "Yeah, I'm fine. I've always bruised kinda easily. Honestly, the soreness is mostly because I've been so out of practice. I haven't done that in almost a year, ya know. And so," she gesture vaguely between her hips, "certain things are unused to accommodating such activities. Especially repeatedly."

"Alright," he accepted, trying to ease his guilt for having left marks on her. Quickly, he gathered up a few towels and washcloths as Harper pulled on a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt for the short walk to the bathhouse.

They set off together, glancing at the farm to see Steve happily petting several goats. Bucky couldn't help but smile; he wasn't sure if he'd seen his friend so relaxed since before the Stark Expo.

After a quick, mostly innocent shower ("It's my fault for cumming inside," James had insisted. "I just want to make sure you're clean and comfortable. Oh, sorry; does that feel good?") Harper followed the brunet back to his small home. She dressed quickly, trying to ignore his wandering eyes as she pulled on a pair of simple black harem pants and a slightly cropped bronze t-shirt. Kat had certainly forced her out of her modest wardrobe in their recent shopping trips. At least the pants came up high enough to camouflage her lower abdomen where most of her concern lay.

"Is it okay if I go grab Steve?" Bucky asked, redressed in his earlier outfit. The small portion of what was left of his metal arm was free of the scarf now.

Harper nodded and watched him turn to exit the hut. She quickly dragged a brush through her hair, rubbed some BB cream into her skin, and had just finished lining her lash line when the two men stepped through the door.

"Morning, Harper," Steve greeted.

"Morning," she returned. "Sleep well?"

"I did, actually."

She was thankful when he didn't return the question, as all present knew full well how her night had gone. "James said you're leaving tonight?"

"Yeah, I need to go meet up with Sam, Wanda, and Natasha. We have a HYDRA lead to follow."

"Well, I'm glad you have today at least."

"Me too," the super soldier responded, and she could easily hear in his voice how very tired he was. With some effort, he managed a sincere smile and asked, "So, did you finally tell Buck your good news?"

"I did," Harper answered with a smile, relieved for the shift in conversation.

The late morning gave way to a simple lunch of goat cheese, crackers, and fruits. Conversation stayed mostly light and friendly. Harper couldn't help but smile, watching the way the two men out of time bantered so easily. They read each other so naturally, responded perfectly. She wondered if she could ever hope to have that kind of deep, effortless relationship with someone.

"How're your sisters?" Bucky finally asked, turning to Harper.

"Well, Jordan is about to graduate, so she's been a weird mix of near constant intoxication and shockingly grown up in her sober moments. Natalie is pretty torn up about it, though. She's not looking forward to her last year of school without Jordan around. But this happened in high school too, and she came back from that pretty quick."

"What do they study?" Steve inquired, loading another cracker full of goat cheese.

"Jordan is graduating with an anthropology degree and Natalie is studying theatre, specifically costume design."

"Anthropology?" both men asked, trading confused glances.

Harper laughed, "You're both seriously wonderful." She popped a grape in her mouth, ignoring the bewildered looks they were now giving her. "Anthro is the study of humans through time, space, culture, etcetera. She wants to go into public policy and history preservation."

"What does Natalie want to do? Costume design for plays or…?"

"For anything, really," the brunette shrugged. "She's just happy when she's designing. And she likes more period style clothing or generally over the top stuff that fits in better with movies and plays than in the regular fashion world. Not that she isn't capable. Hang on, I can find a picture of the bridesmaid dresses she made for our cousin's wedding a few years back."

Harper thumbed through the photos in her phone for a moment before turning it to the men around the table. The image showed her in line with another of her cousins, as well as two friends of the bride and groom. They wore matching raspberry colored gowns. The tops were strapless and the material was wrapped elegantly around the bust before draping in perfect waves down the torso then smoothing out to the floor.

Harper had actually felt amazing that day, and without thinking, declared, "Even my thick ass looked cute." As soon as the words left her lips, she remembered that she wasn't alone with James, and she lamented, "Shit, wait, I'm sorry. Fuck, why am I so awkward? Sorry, Steve."

Her eyes flittered nervously from the tabletop up to the blond's face, darting back to the grain of the wood when she saw him looking at her with an expression she'd never seen him wear before. Quickly, she rambled, "I clearly need new jokes. Self-deprecation is low brow, anyways. But yeah, so Natalie is super talented. She made all those dresses, which was really cool, and some of her work at her school's theatre has been amazing, too. We're definitely really different, the three of us. The artsy one, the one who's passionate about history and culture, and then there's me. Social work and clinical mental health. It's shocking the two of them get along and that we're not all three of us estranged or something, really. And now I'm talking too much. Please for the love of God, someone save me."

Bucky barked a laugh and clapped his hand on her knee under the table. "Jeez, doll, do I love you."

"No fuckin' clue why," she grumbled, face hot and eyes still trained on the swirls of the tabletop.

"Be careful, Steve."

The blond nodded at his friend's request. They stood in front of the quinjet, the departing super soldier's things all ready to go inside. "Stay safe, Buck."

"You'll be back?"

Steve's chest tightened, hearing the poorly disguised eagerness in the other man's voice. He knew that leaving Bucky was hard on his friend. He had so precious few connections in the modern world, his only tie to the past was with him, and things couldn't be how they once were. Not while they were both in hiding. With a small smile he hoped was reassuring, he replied, "Yeah."

"By then, Harper will probably be home," Bucky stated, smile melting into a frown as he realized that he couldn't have either of the two most important people in his life on a more permanent level.

"Yeah," he said again. He rested a hand on the brunet's flesh shoulder, squeezing and hoping that the gesture spoke of what his words could not. Withdrawing his palm, Steve added, "I might've been wrong, Buck."

"What?"

"About Harper," he clarified. "Today… I feel like I saw more of her. The other side you assured me was there. I still don't know if I see how she could really be accepting of all of this, how she could be ready for what a life with you would truly entail, but I see a little more why you want to try with her."

Bucky's jaw tightened with resolve and he asserted, "I love her, Stevie."

"I know, Buck," he assured.

"You know," the former assassin sighed, "I never made Peggy prove to me that she was worthy of you. I trusted your judgement, and was happy that you were happy."

"I know," Steve repeated, throat tight. He swallowed roughly and muttered, "I just want to make sure you aren't hurt again. You've been through more than enough."

"I'm sorry you couldn't have been happy for longer."

"Me too."

They moved as one into a tight embrace. Steve couldn't help the tear that slipped down the bridge of his nose. He was so tired.

A/N: Thank you for sticking with me!