A/N: Left off the note at the end of last chapter, but that was the end of the plot interlude for now. Back to Steve's story, already in progress :D
"They're calling us the 'Howling Commandos'." Steve mutters, sinking down next to the camp fire.
Bucky snorts beside him.
"Christ, who came up with that? Dugan?"
"Some senator, apparently." Steve sighs, "And we're going to be in a newsreel next week, so we have to keep track of a couple of reporters for a few days." He doesn't bother faking a smile for Bucky. Buck'd see right through it even if he did. Steve not-so-secretly hates cameras, and doesn't much like being the center of attention, for all that he always ends up being thrust there. He knows the reporters will be all over him and he's not looking forward to it.
Bucky hands over a tin mug of sludgy coffee, which Steve accepts gratefully. When he looks up, Bucky's smirking in that lopsided way that never fails to get him into or out of trouble.
"Always knew you were gonna be famous someday." Bucky says matter-of-factly, slouching down against the pack he's leaning on, to push his feet closer to the fire. "Just kinda figured it'd be for paintin' a masterpiece or somethin', but I knew you'd get there."
"Ugh." Steve mutters articulately, slouching down to match with a huff; though he's really not cold and couldn't care less about the fire. "Fame's a pain in the ass, Buck, trust me. Already had all'a that that I can stomach. People paw all over you and you just have to smile and take it."
Bucky rolls his eyes dramatically.
"Yeah, must be awful havin' girls line up around the block t'pay ya to kiss 'em. Poor li'l Stevie Rogers. Y'want me to cry for ya?"
"Hey, you'd know better'n me." Steve shrugs, ignoring the dig.
Bucky glances at him and grins crookedly, waggling his eyebrows like he's just as much the ladies-man that his reputation suggests. Then he makes a face.
Truth is, the ladies have always loved Bucky because he was a gentleman, more than because he's good looking. Much as he talks big in front of the guys, and how he always teases Steve about it, Bucky's honestly not one to mess around.
Bucky's a charmer, sure, and between his million-watt smile and those baby-blues of his, Steve's not denying his pal is a looker too - But much more importantly, Bucky knows how to treat a lady special. He listens to people, reaches out to them. Has a talent for making them feel important. He'd show up for a date with flowers, sweep a girl off her feet, take her out dancing, and have her home by curfew. Parents never failed to approve of him, even if they didn't like him running with that trouble-making Rogers boy all the time.
Bucky had a good reputation in Brooklyn. Not that he wasn't just as rough and rowdy as Steve half the time, but he was a lot better at polishing up after. Bucky unfairly managed to look roguish and tussled when he was filthy from work, and classy and uptown when he wasn't. And he could turn on a dime between brawler and choir boy when the situation called for it. Steve usually just managed to look like a startled puppy that's been caught rummaging in the trash, even when he wasn't sporting a brand new shiner. Bucky has given him no end of shit for that.
It really is funny to watch Buck flip between his usual rough Brooklyn Brat act and his Sunday School manners at the drop of a hat, though, Steve has to admit.
Bucky grew up an army brat. His dad was rough and coarse for all he loved his kids, and it rubbed off on Bucky early on. He's always had a foul mouth, especially when he's mad - but show him an old lady and it's suddenly 'nice weather today, huh, Mrs. Gardner?' and 'yes ma'am' and 'no ma'am' and his very best behavior. Bucky's always known his mama would skin him alive if he ever came off with half the crude talk he used around Steve in front of most anybody else. So Bucky was simultaneously feared by the neighborhood boys as one who put a quick stop to any fight he entered, and adored by the adults as a polite, well mannered kid who would always hold a door and never forgot to say 'please' or 'thank you'.
He was so over-the-top gallant and charming with the local girls that it was no surprise to anyone when he was drowning in eager dance partners every weekend.
Steve only went dancing when Bucky dragged him along. He couldn't keep up with all the fast-paced jitterbugging, or even the sweeping waltzes, without getting out of the breath. He couldn't dance, but he could patrol for creeps, at least. Anybody that got fresh in the dance halls answered to Steve. Honestly, he did little to deter them but get himself punched repeatedly, more often than not - but anybody who laid hands on Steve ultimately answered to Bucky. Nobody was very scared of Steve, but nobody much wanted to tangle with Bucky Barnes without at least 3 or 4 guys in reserve. Barnes was big and tough and he fought dirty, especially when he was protecting somebody. Especially if that somebody was Steve.
Steve has always had a reputation for trying to be a white knight, but Bucky is just as bad, if not worse. With an iron-fisted mama and three little sisters to think about at home, Buck has always been more than willing to sock anyone who started trouble with a lady. He might not be as quick to start throwing punches as Steve could be, and a lot of the time could intimidate a bully into behaving just by glaring down at them, but Buck had still started plenty of fights in his time. The difference was that Bucky was able to actually finish what he started.
It hadn't taken all that long for guys to start getting jealous; not when every girl for 20 miles around wanted Bucky Barnes. People whispered, but nobody was brave enough to really start anything - not until they got into highschool, and Bucky started trying to include Steve in ill-advised double-dates. Girls that got invited to go out with Bucky and his best friend were always disappointed when they ended up with Steve, and none of them ever wanted to go out a second time. Bucky ended up asking a different girl to join them every week, and that got people talking again ... but Bucky treated his own girlfriends like queens, and that word got around even more. Before long, girls were all but beating down his door at the slightest whiff that he might be available, and he had a crowd following him at the dance hall anytime he showed up.
Bucky had reveled in the attention at the time. He was outgoing and thrived on praise as much as anybody. That had unfortunately only made things worse.
Some folks saw it as preening. As unforgivable arrogance.
Those folks stirred up trouble.
A small group of assholes started the rumors that Bucky was a heart-breaker and a run-around cad sometime in the middle of their sophomore year. It spread quickly through the hallways of the school and started making the rounds of the neighborhood streets as well. They'd made up stories about all the girls he'd left crying and even claimed he'd gotten some girl in Indiana knocked up and then left her flat.
Steve had been apoplectic when he heard. He'd nearly broken his hand trying to cave one of the guy's faces in. Hadn't done that much damage when it was said and done, but he'd given it his all just the same.
Thinking about it even now still makes him bristle a little. As if Steve would've been friends with a guy who'd run around on a nice girl? As if he'd have tolerated that kind of bullshit, even from Bucky?
He'd certainly launched himself at bigger guys for less.
Of course, since the prisoner's rescue, Bucky hasn't shown much interest in any of the pretty girls they've encountered at all. Where he'd normally be flocked with a crowd of admirers, he seems mostly to be deflecting them. Not even the camp nurses that had fluttered around him in the infirmary and flirted shamelessly in the mess seem to have caught his eye, for all his big talk.
Bucky's been polite to a fault, smiles and compliments like his mama raised him to - but that's about it. He never seems to pursue anybody with any kind of intent, and he hasn't made a single move to take a girl home, though there have been at least a couple of pretty blatant offers that Steve's overheard. That in and of itself is glaringly odd. Buck's never been one to push for what a woman doesn't want to give him… but he's not one to turn down a pretty girl that's offering either. And Steve knows it's been a while since he had the chance.
He's pretty sure Bucky thinks no one has noticed the shadow that's been hovering over him ever since Azzano. How raw his edges still are. He's been working hard at playing it cool. Steve is painfully aware, though, that he's still not quite… Bucky. He knows Bucky like the back of his hand, and he knows when something's off.
At least Bucky's smiling again these days, though. It'd been a while with nothing but stone-faced concentration after London, and Steve had been getting pretty worried. He'll take the smiles, thin as they sometimes are, as a good sign for now. Besides, Bucky'd only try harder to hide his problems if Steve said anything about them.
"Seriously, kid, no comparison." Bucky drawls just then, startling Steve out of his reverie. Buck shifts, lazily nudging at a burnt-out log with his foot and knocking loose a shower of embers. "I had to buy my dates dinner just to get the time'a day. Don't get me wrong, I mean, I'm a handsome guy. What girl wouldn't want a piece a'me?" He's smirking faintly. "But I ain't...' He waves a hand in the general direction of Steve's… well everything. "That."
Steve raises an eyebrow. Other than Peggy, he hasn't met a woman yet that didn't want a piece of Bucky. He glances down at himself instead of saying so.
"What, y'mean a giant loser?"
"You sure that last shell hit didn't scramble your brains there, Captain?" Bucky teases, chucking a pebble and pinging it neatly off of Steve's canteen with his usual perfect accuracy. He sits up on his elbows to give Steve the full effect of his incredulous face. "D'you miss the part where you're America's sweet-heart, or you need me to get out those stupid fuckin' comicbooks again?"
"Thought nobody was allowed to mention those anymore." Steve finally reluctantly smirks back. "Under penalty of pot-shots, wasn' it?" Bucky makes a face.
Bucky loves comic books in general, but he has a passionate hatred for the Captain America comics. He's still irritated that they decided to include him, but then turned him into a teenaged moron sidekick in ridiculous miniature shorts. He's never said 'gee golly' in his life.
There's a writer back home who's going to be in serious trouble whenever Bucky gets back stateside.
As it is, Bucky's already threatened the entire team that he'll stop covering them in combat if they mention the damned things one more time. Steve's not entirely sure he's kidding.
"You all aren't. I'm mentionin' 'em, because you're bein' a moron. You're welcome by the way." Bucky informs him, raising his eyebrows. Steve's smirk widens, and Bucky's exaggerated grimace quirks vaguely towards a smile.
"What's this, has hell frozen over? Are we allowed to talk about the books again?" Fallsworth asks, appearing just over Steve's shoulder with a mug in hand. "Because I've noticed that none of the rest of us are includ-" The Brit ducks smoothly to one side, looking very mildly offended, as a pebble sails right past his ear.
Steve suppresses a snicker. Bucky glares half-heartedly at the pair of them.
"Should be grateful y'ain't in 'em, Monty." he mutters, crossing his arms petulantly. "They'd probably have you in stupid shorts too." He tosses another stone from hand to hand before discarding it. "An' tights."
Fallsworth shrugs and pivots, making a brief show of examining his backside over his own shoulder. "Well I do have the legs for it." he says at length, completely straight-faced.
Steve just can't keep it back anymore. He collapses laughing, rolling helplessly in the crisp, brittle snow until his hair is entirely frosted with with damp and ice. Bucky just rolls his eyes and goes back to warming his feet.
"How'd I end up stuck with you morons again?" he mutters, suppressing a weak smile and shaking his head.
Fallsworth tisks, settling himself down near the fire. "Jealousy is hardly becoming in an officer, Barnes." he remarks mildly, starting to warm his hands.
Steve is near hyperventilating, he's laughing so hard. He's honestly trying to stop, but he just can't seem to catch his breath long enough to get a grip. Every time he thinks he's finally just about done, he pictures Monty strutting around in Bucky's comic-book costume, Bucky looking thoroughly scandalized in the background, and that just makes him lose it all over again.
"Just don't roll into the fire, dumbass." Bucky grumbles at him, rolling his eyes again. Steve howls louder.