A/N: Hello all! Hope life is treating you well. Enjoy the next chapter! Thanks for the feedback, loves!
"So when you guys aren't saving the world, what do y'all do for dinner?" I asked Steve later in kitchen. He chuckled and opened the fridge. Cold air engulfed us like a fog rolling over a hill.
"Well, I like a good cheeseburger anytime, but I am not opposed to trying new things."
I laid my hands on one of his giant arms and peered around him into the fridge. The man was wearing a nice plaid button down and khaki pants. Even though, he may not be the most-trendy, he is still darn cute I thought to myself.
"Ohhh sweet potatoes!" I exclaimed with glee glancing into the brown paper bag at the bottom of the fridge.
"What would you say to some grilled chicken, ma'am?" Steve wondered.
"Perfect! You cook the meat and I'll do the sides! There is broccoli as well." Reaching under him, I pulled out what I needed. He pulled out the chicken breasts and we began our meal prep.
"Steve! I found Barbecue sauce! We should make Barbecue chicken," I suggested trying to find the spice cabinet dancing as joy bubbled up inside of me. God, I love food.
There is one thing that always gets me excited and that's Barbecue. Something about the blend of spicy, sweet, and sticky gets my mouth watering every time.
"Sounds delicious," Came a voice from the living room. I turned to see Sam Wilson with Bucky Barnes trailing behind him.
"Hey fellas! Y'all wanna join us for dinner?" I gave them my most charming smile cocking my head to the side.
"How could we say no to a pretty face like yours, August?" Sam plopped himself down on the barstool on the other side of the kitchen. Bucky was staring at me again. I glanced down making sure I hadn't spilt anything on myself. There was nothing on my black and white polka-dot overall shorts or my black and white stripped undershirt.
Maybe he is a stickler for matching?
I shrugged to myself and continued to look for the spice rack. Finally, finding it on the top shelf of the last cabinet, I blew a loose curl out of my face in frustration. I tucked it back into the red bandana headband as I pondered how to get what I wanted. Being short sucked sometimes. I spun around on my heel and set my sights on the handsome, blue eyed man leaning against the far wall.
"Hey Bucky, could I uh.. borrow your height?" I pointed back at the spice rack.
Without saying a word, he was by my side in a blink of the eye. We stood shoulder to well.. torso looking at the spice rack. His eyes flicked down to mine waiting for directions.
"Hmmm.. I think we should do something bolder and spicy for the sweet potatoes seein' as the Barbecue chicken will be sweet and tangy," Bucky looked down at me skeptically. I patted his metal arm, treating it as if it was normal. He flinched slightly and I tried to give him a reassuring smile.
He seemed on edge since this morning's incident. I wanted to tell him not to worry about it. If anything, we should be happy that he did reign in the Winter Soldier which according to Steve had been something that was nigh impossible in the past. I brushed my bare finger tip across his pulse point on his wrist sending him feelings of peace and calm. His eyes snapped down to my finger and then back up to me.
"Do you see cumin? Maybe paprika? Ohh turmeric! I feel like turmeric is so underrated," He took his eyes off of me to search for the spices I called out. Collecting them all, he placed them on the empty counter space before me.
"Anything else?" he questioned gruffly.
"You happen to know where the cutting board is?"
"It's tucked between the knives and the fridge," rang Sam's voice. I followed his directions, grabbed a knife and the cutting board.
"Sam, you want to come grill the chicken with me?" Steve was holding a pan of basted chicken in one hand and grilling tongs in the other. I laughed.
"You look so domestic, Cap," I commented. He smiled and walked side by side with Sam out the door. As I cut up the broccoli, I realized it was just me and Bucky. I looked up to see that Steve and Sam were watching us as they talked in hushed tones outside.
"They are worse than girls," I mumbled. The tension in the room was like the little bubbles building up in a pot of almost boiling water.
"Bucky, you wanna peel those potatoes for me?" I asked over my shoulder trying to break whatever funk was going on.
"Sure," He agreed as I tossed him the peeler then the sweet potatoes. Our silent working was interrupted when he asked,
"Those bruises on your wrists, they aren't from today right?" he sounded concerned. I looked down at my wrists at the barely there bruises. They had faded significantly, the light outline of fingertips dancing across my pale skin. It was clear to me how observant he was.
"Nah. These are from when I was attacked the other night. I've got one that kind of looks like the state of Texas on my ribs," He quirked one eyebrow at me curiously.
"I could tell you were favoring your right side earlier," I suddenly realized that he was right behind me. I jumped slightly in surprise nicking my finger. Blood split out, dripping out like droplets of rain before a downpour.
"Dammit," I cursed dropping the knife. He immediately grabbed my hurt hand. Concern. Guilt. Mild Amusement.
"No, Bucky, this ain't your fault, I'm a klutz," I tried to placate his feelings. I tuned out his feelings as he gently pulled my cut finger over towards the sink. Washing off my wound, I realized that this man was actually quite tender when he wanted to be. His eyes flicked down to stubble on his face, his angled nose, his long eyelashes; I took these all in. His eyes widened. I suddenly realized that I had sent him my emotions. Curiosity. Attraction. Nervous.
I blushed and tried to pull my hand back. He held on with a tighter grip.
"It's okay," he nodded down where our hands were touching attempting to put me at ease. With a couple of words, he had let me know that he understood and accepted that I had a weird, freaky gift and that I had real human emotions.
"So you feel nervous around me?" He asked his breath hitting the side of my neck. Ugh I wish we weren't touching. I would rather not broadcast exactly how his close proximity was making me feel.
He turned off the water and pulled out a small first aid kit from under the sink letting go of my finger. I saw something flash in the light.
"Is that a gun under the sink?" I asked in shock. He actually smiled at me as he pulled out peroxide and a couple of Band-Aids. He took hold of my hand again.
"There is one behind the television and under the pool table too. Never know when you will need one. You haven't answered my question August."
The way he said my name made a roll of desire crawl up my spine. I quickly ripped my hand free my blush rising up my neck hoping he hadn't realized the effect he had on me. His mouth twitched. Shit.
"Honestly, yes, but probably not because of the reason you're thinking. You look-look familiar to me," he pulled a face and stepped back, "and I- uh- for an ancient artifact, you're kind of handsome," I chose to answer honestly because in my eyes it seemed that Bucky had been lied to enough for a lifetime. However, a little humor never hurt anyone.
He was hot. He stepped forward back into my personal space. He had a smirk on his face as his hands gently came up to the side of my overalls brushing against my hips like a ghost. He tugged at the straps, pulled me closer, and said in a low, quiet voice,
"You're pretty cute yourself," He suddenly picked me up and placed me on the counter. I landed with an 'oomph' tumbling from my lips. Before I had time to think about what he had just said he grabbed my cut finger, held it over the sink, and poured peroxide on the long cut.
"Shit," I gasped trying to wiggle away from the twinge of pain.
"That's not very lady like," he pointed out with a crooked look. Trying to keep my feelings in check, I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes.
"Yes, dad, I'll watch what I say." He tugged at my cut finger a little harder than necessary as he opened up the Band-Aids. Using his mouth to tear them open, he gingerly wrapped up my finger. There was something about James Buchanan Barnes that pulled me in.
"It's too shallow to need stitches, should heal in a little over a week," his cold metal fingers brushed against the bruises on my wrist. Feeling self-conscious, I pulled my hand back and jumped off the counter. Why was I letting this man that I barely knew, get so close to me?
Although, I would consider myself outgoing, I didn't just let myself get swept up into some guys arms that I barely knew. But I know him. The thought bounced around, echoing through my overworked mind. No, you don't. I told myself frowning. I had heard the news, seen the stories, and talked to Steve. The Winter Soldier was not someone you just cuddled up to. In his former life, he was a weapon, sent on missions, hands covered in blood for the sake of HYDRA. But this man standing near me now, who still looked formidable, also looked... fractured. Broken. Searching.
We then sautéed the broccoli with some olive oil, pepper, and lemon and put the diced and spiced sweet potatoes in the oven with some butter.
Pretty soon Sam and Steve waltzed back in and we had ourselves dinner on the patio.
"You sure you don't want a beer Gus?" Steve offered again politely, lifting his own in my direction.
"No thank you. I'm not much of a beer drinker," I replied cutting up my chicken.
"So what do you drink?" Sam asked.
"Well, sweet tea or peach teach are my go-to's, but if I am looking for something a little stronger any red wine, tequila, or some moonshine," I answered shoving a piece of food into my mouth chomping happily.
"Moonshine? Really? I've never had it. Is it any good?"
I tried to finish swallowing and took a sip of my water before I answered.
"Some people don't like it very much. You just have to know where to get the right stuff. My favorite flavor is apple pie moon shine. Cap, where you a drinker in your time?"
Bucky chuckled at my question. Steve gave him a grin right back.
"Buck and I used to throw them back in our day. Now, we uh actually can't get drunk. It's part of the whole super solider thing."
"Can't get drunk? What? Where's the fun in that?" I asked aghast.
"Oh, they just stare at me in envy when I get my buzz going," Sam joked.
"More like make sure you don't do anything stupid," Bucky pointed out.
Dinner finished up and Sam and I cleaned the dishes together. I found out that that we had something in common.
"So your Daddy was a pastor too?" I inquired rubbing the wash cloth back and forth over the plate.
"Yes indeed. My old pops was a hell of a man. He always was on the straight and narrow. Naturally, as a pastor's kid, I was your typical goody-two shoes, which was good considering the gang activity in our part of town. What about you?"
"I was kind of a mix of a goody-two shoes and a rebellious wild child. It just depended on my mood. I had some issues controlling my erm.. gift back then. After my parents passed, I promised myself I would figure out how to better control myself."
Sam got a far off look in his eyes. I handed him my plate to dry and my hand touched his.
Sadness. Loneliness. Loss.
I suddenly realized that Sam and I had more in common than I thought. All of our parents were dead.
"Hey, I understand. It's hard losing your parents at such a young age. All we can do is try and make them proud, right? And from what I've heard, that's certainly what your doin' Sam," I gave him a sad smile and handed him the last plate.
"Thanks Gus. You're alright, you know that?"
"Ha. I appreciate that. Not everyone agrees with you," I bumped my shoulders against him in a sign of comradery.
"Now, I highly doubt that ma'am. You're as sweet as sunshine!" came Steve's voice came from the table he and Bucky were seated at. Steve was nursing another beer and Bucky… Bucky was cleaning a gun. I rolled my eyes.
"You may think that now, but I'm a spit fire when I'm angry. I could give the Hulk a run for his money," I winked.
"I am personal friends with the Hulk and I highly doubt that."
"Yeah, maybe not that mad, but I do get a little irrational. My daddy used to say that he prayed that God would bring me a nice southern gent who could deal with my temper."
Bucky started to chuckle. Which surprised me. I looked at him confusedly and Steve threw him a pointed glance. He put his gun down.
"I'm sorry. I just… I could see it. Little thing like you all riled up would be pretty hilarious, I think."
I marched over to were he was sitting and gave him a playful shove.
"You watch out James Buchanan Barnes! I'll have to whip out my teacher voice on you. I've been told that it strikes fear into the hearts of second graders everywhere," I countered bringing up my student teaching, placing my hands on my hips.
"Oh, I'm sure." He rolled his eyes when he said that. I scoffed crossing my arms and stomped my right foot. He laughed again. Steve and Sam smiled too.
"Y'all are the worst. One day, y'all will regret that you mocked me," I winked and grabbed my glass of water that I had left out.
"Well, I better get back to my essays. If it's ever safe for me to live a normal life, I'd like to have my degrees to fall back on. "
I wished everyone goodnight and headed towards my room. I could feel those dark icy eyes following me the whole way there.
AN: I am already working on the next chapter, it should be up soon! Hope y'all enjoyed!