Chapter Three—kissing a fool

It was deliberate mocking, she decided. The way he jogged slightly ahead of her, just fast enough so that she wouldn't be able to catch up but slow enough to make her feel like she was accomplishing something.

Her keys clanked in time with her steps where they were tied into her shoe laces, two silver trinkets that each opened places she loved. Her time with Mrs. Barnes was charmed and cozy, but after enough money accumulated from the influx of people wanting to learn to fight in these times of war and she managed to get her feet under her, she began searching for her own place. When week of searching supplied nothing, Bucky presented her with a newspaper application of someone in need of a roommate. She almost beat him ass when he answered the doorbell she rang the next day.

Now the better half of a year had passed and she had yet to come across a better offer.

Bucky made full use of his long legs for the final stretch to their front door and she vowed to get up more mornings to join him on his routine run.

The trek up the stairs to their floor about killed her and she was too busy holding up the wall to remember Bucky had neglected his keys. A hand appeared in front of her expectantly and she groaned, nudging his foot with hers. A roll of his eyes happened before he winked and knelt down.

Her heart made the unfortunate mistake of missing a few beats because she really did need it to recover from the exertion. This was no time for it to become distracted by wild hair and sweet blue eyes. Thankfully, when he rose, there was no time for it to further indulge because his back was to her and he was striding inside like his muscles did not feel a damn thing; hers, on the other hand, were moments away from shriveling up and calling it quits.

"Dibs!" she panted out. A shower that peeled away a few good layers of skin was the only remedy she could think of for her current state.

"Sorry, doll. You've got to earn it," he called before he tore off.

"Bastard," she grumbled.

She gave chase while Bucky dove into the bathroom. A smack accompanied the towel hitting her face and she pulled it away just in time to witness his shirt being cast to the floor. Her foot slipped from its still untied shoe and she nearly tipped to the ground with it, silently blaming him for leaving her in that state on purpose. Bucky reached out with his muscles flexing ridiculously and glistening with sweat as steam from the water he cut on clogged up the air around them and in her throat.

"Easy, I was only messing around. You can go first."

"This one doesn't have to be a competition," she breathed.

"What would you suggest then?" he breathed out, making a sweep of his hair with an almost steady hand.

She reached for her tank top as a response and took a moment to pride herself when his eyes widened before allowing it to join his on the tile floor. His eyes explored her a moment before his fingertips did and her steady pulse went to hell in a handbasket. Fingers simply radiating heat trace up her arm, across her collarbone and between her breasts to rest on her hip.

"You feeling alight?"

"Just making things fair?"

His gaze swept up and down her frame before deciding the ceiling was the safest bet. "Doesn't feel that way," he complained.

She felt his hand retracting and seized her still singing high to cup his jaw and draw that all too enticing man closer. One of them inhaled sharply and the other let their foreheads press together. The steam carried away most of the stench from the workout and what was left was a promise of further activities to come.

The fates hated her enough to allow three sets of Bucky's apartment key to exist in this universe. While both parties present possessed one, Steve Rogers was using the remaining one to let himself in the front door with a shouted hello in accompaniment. Bucky let his mouth press shift sideways so that it landed safely on her cheek before he slipped past her and shut the door to the bathroom.

While her hands curled into perfect fists, she found herself with nothing to punch except the air still rife with tension.

After an only minorly existential crisis under the safe sprays of the shower, Mattie dove into her bedroom for a clean sweater dress that cut off just a bit too north of her knees to be considered appropriate for outside wear. As for seducing one sergeant Barnes? Perfectly acceptable.

A nod to herself in the mirror gave her the confidence to advance as her second braid was tied off. On still damp feet, she followed the sound of playful banter into the kitchen where the boys bonded over beers and stale chips.

Electing to not squeeze her ass onto the single stool that remained between them and settled for leaning on the counter directly across from her roommate so that he would have unobstructed access to the scoop in her neckline. Steve was too busy seeing how many handfuls of the snack he could stuff into his face at once to notice the simmering that was happening far away from any stove.

"So, I told the news stand guy that the attack was just a cover up and he nearly took my paper back," Steve ended his story before turning the Mattie and chasing his food with a long pull. "Thought you finally came to your senses and got as far away from this sap as possible."

"Unfortunately I think the Stockholm syndrome has set in," she replied.

"No joke, that's real shit," Bucky interjected.

"Yeah, plus we all know not even the craziest dame would go for him," Steve said.

Mattie smiled at them, fiddling with the hard chip she spun between her fingers. The kitchen could probably only fit one more person max on its black and white tiled floor. The island took up most of the available space and the large fridge Bucky insisted on occupied the rest. Steve was small enough that his presence hardly made a dent in their shared apartment.

"The real question is, when are you leaving him?"

"As soon as I get enough money to actually start a bank account."

"Nonsense. I am off to war soon, so someone will need to stay and house sit for me." Bucky did not tack on a question mark even for a show of a choice.

There it was, the distinctly suffocating feeling of having other people's feelings piled on top of her own. The director at the homeless shelter was the worst with her patronizing eyes and doting words as if this were something they were born into like a disease, but Bucky Barnes came in as a snapshot second sometimes and she was one soft smile away from plastering his face with broken chips.

Steve was her saving grace. "You don't mind if we trash the place, right? Or maybe a nice remodel would suit it. I've always gotten the distinctly black market feel."

"I buy one pair of shady shoes from a woman on the side of the road and suddenly I'm doing underground dealings?" Bucky exclaimed.

While they were arguing, Mattie had time to collect her anger solely into her balled fists and mutter a, "Thanks."

Bucky hardly noticed her or hardly thought anything of it because he just waved her off and finished off the gesture by pointing accusingly at his friend when the brilliant idea of a brothel was added to the stew now.

The day wore on and her boys wore out their bickering. She coaxed them onto the green loveseat, claiming the plush rug for her rear. With the radio singing away contently in the background, Steve lulled to sleep against Bucky's shoulder. Mattie was close to following him, when Bucky dropped down across from her, fingers drumming over hers in a silent demand for attention.

"Come on, kiddo. You're not sleeping on the damn floor. Let's go."

A tug hauled her to her feet, his feet if you take into account where her actual weight went. Keeping her hand tucked in his left, the right went around her waist to ease them both down the hallway until they encountered her ajar bedroom door. The soft yellow wallpaper cooed for her to enter and the perfectly made pink comforter harmonized perfectly.

"Alright. Get some sleep. I'm gonna grab Stevo a blanket so he doesn't freeze."

With his gaze turned back towards the living room, she leaned forward to press her lips to his cheek. Dark eyebrows checked up as if she had just dealt the knock out blow in a championship match.

"Fair's fair," she murmured.

Bucky laughed softly to himself and staggered a few steps back towards their friend. "I'm sure glad I met you, Mattie."

"That sounds an awful lot like goodbye. You don't deploy for two more days."

"You'll take care of Steve for me, right? He tends to look for trouble."

"Bucky, what're you doing?"

"Trying to go to bed."

"You're running away from me. When did you start getting all shy? You've been hitting on me since the day we met."

"That wasn't significant."

"Because you flirt with everyone. And now you're leaving to find different women to pick up. And I'll be here just waiting for the strong war hero to come home!"

"Stop it," he hissed, glancing at where Steve's snores now came from. When his head swiveled around again, it was with fractured blue eyes. "You are. You are significant. I'm not tainting that. I trust you with my home, with my best friend, and my heart. Surely you know that. But I don't trust myself with yours. So yes I'm leaving. I need to fight and sort myself out and, yes, then I will come home and I pray to God you'll still be here."

"Kiss me, maybe I will be."

"No..."

"Can you at least stay with me tonight?" She knew she sounded small and frail and that was fine because she did trust him not to shatter her.

"Mat, no."

"Can you do anything? Because if not, then maybe you should just leave tonight!"

His smile was quick and sad. "What we always do. We can dance."

"I'm not fighting you tonight."

He surged forward to grasp her in a similar hold to earlier, his hand in hers, his arm at her waist, and his feet swaying them gently back and forth. She shuddered, muscles hiccuping before molding to his frame. His cheek pressed against her hair, his heart beating in the three strike pattern she was accustomed to in any ring.

"No more fighting," he whispered.