As the early morning sunlight bathed the Avengers' compound in a warm glow, Charlotte stood outside Bucky's room, gathering her courage. She had been wrestling the idea for nearly an hour, but now that she was here, uncertainty gnawed at her. It was an unholy hour of the morning, the sun just barely beginning to peek out over the horizon. She was clad head to toe in her black athletic wear, tennis shoes shifting on the floor as she debated making a run for the elevator.
Don't be stupid, it isn't that big of a deal. If you don't deal with it now, it'll just be weird later.
With a determined exhale, she knocked on Bucky's door, the sound echoing through the quiet common room. After a brief pause, the door swung open, revealing Bucky standing on the other side, pulling a gray hoodie the rest of the way down over his abdomen. The smell of black coffee wafted out of his room.
"Morning," he greeted her with a small smile, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
"Hey," Charlotte replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Figured I'd get an early start today and I know you usually do, too. Might as well run together?"
Bucky's lips twitched in amusement, and he stepped back to let her in. The bed was already made and she had a hunch he'd been up for longer than he'd admit. "Sure, why not? I could use the exercise."
Charlotte couldn't resist a teasing grin. "Yeah, Sarge, you've really been letting yourself go," she quipped, her eyes flicking playfully over his chiseled frame for a moment longer than strictly necessary.
Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he finished lacing up his shoes. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go, then."
They made their way out of the compound and onto the trail that wound around the nearby lake, the crisp morning air doing a better job of waking them up than coffee ever did. Neither of them spoke much, but to Charlotte's relief, it was a comfortable silence rather than a tense one. Both sets of eyes were locked on the swell of color across the lake as the sun broke from the horizon. After some light stretching, more of a formality for super soldiers anyways, they began to run. As they fell into step beside each other, any tension that had lingered between them dissipated, replaced by the easy camaraderie that had become second nature over the past months.
"You sure you can keep up, old man?" Charlotte grinned over her shoulder.
Bucky shot her a mock glare, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Please. I could outrun you blindfolded and carrying an extra fifty pounds." He lifted his left arm out of his stride and waggled his fingers at her. "Which I am."
Charlotte rolled her eyes, laughing. "Well you're in luck, because I forgot to bring my blindfold."
"Damn." He shook his head, loose hair falling with the motion and the wind blowing past him.
The rest of their run passed in a blur of lighthearted banter, normalcy flooding what had been a big question mark after this past weekend in New York. What happened, or almost happened, hadn't been discussed by either of them.
"Eat shit, Rogers." Tony threw his hands up as Steve sailed a dart right into the bullseye - again.
"Nobody likes a sore loser, Stark." Steve grinned good-naturedly and held a bottle out to Tony. "Drink up."
My stomach hurt from laughing (and eating) way too much, but I didn't regret either. I was certain that my head would join in the pounding when I woke up the next morning. Rather, when I woke up later today, considering the clock read just past 1am. Pepper had long since gone to bed, and shortly after went Sam and Calla. Peter had passed out on the sectional, narrowly avoiding having something profane drawn on him by Steve's well-timed challenge of darts. Natasha stood confidently to the side, waiting to challenge whoever the winner was, clearly Captain America himself. I held onto my glass with no intention of finishing the champagne inside of it. I'd gotten myself a refill over an hour ago and only taken one sip.
Maybe because the molten lava in my chest threatened to burn me alive if I let any more of my judgment fall away. Bucky sat across from Wanda and I, one hand holding a glass of water and the other draped across the back of the couch. His face had a grin plastered on it as he watched the game unfold, but his eyes were just as dazed and unseeing as mine felt. After Sam had snapped us out of…whatever that was, we'd both retreated back into the party. Besides the occasional white-hot bits of eye contact across the chaos, no evidence of our moment remained. I couldn't decide if I was grateful or resentful of Sam for stopping us, whether he knew what he was doing or not. Based on our history, he might have thought he was breaking up a potential bar fight. I'll give him that much.
After watching Natasha wipe the floor with Steve, who was only slightly more gracious in defeat than Tony, Wanda stood and declared that she was going to bed. A murmur of agreement went around the room, the rest of us slowly succumbing to exhaustion from the day and the alcohol.
"Leave it all, my cleaning staff is paid very handsomely," Tony waved his hand as he stumbled towards the elevator. "Goodnight you vagrants, the pleasure is all yours."
"Char, you coming?" Wanda looked back at me as she strode towards the doors on the far side of the vast living room.
"I'll be a few minutes, I'm gonna find some Tylenol." I smiled warmly and returned her blown kiss as she nodded. Liar. While I could probably have benefited from some, finding medication wasn't my priority. I turned back to the living room where Steve had slowly roused Peter and was all but carrying him to an empty room. Bucky was looking on, unsure if he should help or laugh. As Steve retreated further from us, Bucky turned and locked eyes with me. The sudden quiet and lack of distractions felt like it was crushing my chest as I stared into his blue eyes. He was only ten feet away from me, which somehow felt too far and terrifyingly too close all at once. Before I could move, speak, or think, Natasha's hand stuck out in front of me.
"Here you go. I assume it's a double dose for you like the other two." She opened her fist to reveal a handful of small, white pills. In the other, she offered me a glass of water. "Drink up. It'll help for tomorrow."
I nodded and obliged her, swallowing the handful of pills and washing it down with the rest of the glass as I tried not to will her to leave the room.
"Need any, Barnes?"
"No." He shook his head. "I quit drinking about an hour ago." His eyes flicked back to me.
"Smarter than you look." Nat winked. "'Night, Buck. Come on, I'll show you the best room left." She looped her arm through mine and led me towards the dark half of the room everyone had disappeared to. I let her pull me away, but my gaze lingered behind me.
"G'night Sarge," I willed myself to sound normal but heard the breathlessness in my own voice.
"Goodnight Charlotte."
As we got to the threshold of my room for the night, Nat squeezed my arm. "Listen, you can do what you want with who you want. I won't stop you. But not many good things have come out of drunken late nights at this tower. Sleep on it, and if you feel the same way tomorrow, I'll buy Barnes a box of condoms myself."
"Nat!" I hissed, my cheeks warming as I scanned the room for any sign of him. His door was already closed, the faintest sound of a shower running coming from behind it.
"Sweet dreams. Thank me later." She winked and disappeared behind the door next to me, leaving me alone in the massive, suddenly oppressively quiet, space.
Later that evening, the normal routine commenced. Sam had taken advantage of the beautiful spring weather and grilled burgers for everyone, claiming his time to shine was during barbeque season. They'd eaten on the balcony and watched the sun sink down. It was a normal day of training, but it felt longer to everyone after being gone for the weekend.
Charlotte rolled out her neck as she stood at the sink, stiff from all the martial arts work she'd done with Natasha earlier that day. "Next?" She reached out a hand, Wanda giving her another stack of dirty dishes.
"Hey, careful with that plate, Char," Natasha teased, a smirk playing on her lips. "We don't want to break any more of the fancy dinnerware. I think SHIELD takes it out of our paychecks."
Charlotte rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress a grin. "Hey, if SHIELD is so great at engineering, why aren't the plates superhuman-proof," she retorted, earning a chuckle from Wanda. She'd broken a dish during her first rotation on clean up duty, not realizing how slippery the soap made them. Even though their teasing was good-natured, part of it still made Charlotte shrink inside. She hadn't wanted to admit the reason she didn't know anh better was because she'd never actually done dishes before. It was yet another small, seemingly insignificant task that had just never been necessary. She'd either been stealing food, eating on the cruise ship she sailed to the United States, eating takeout, or most recently, living off of hotel room service in Las Vegas. She'd never even owned her own set of dishes. She didn't fear judgment from any of them, it was more of her own insecurities that she preferred to keep hidden. Everyone treated her so normally, had been so accepting that she hardly felt out of place at all. Calling attention to everything she didn't know or hadn't done seemed counterintuitive.
As they finished tidying up, the group reconvened in the living area, settling in for a movie night. Peter took charge of selecting the film, much to the amusement of the rest of the team.
"What's it gonna be this time, kid? Another one of your vintage classics?" Sam quipped, earning a mock offended look from Peter.
"Hey, my taste in movies is impeccable, thank you very much," Peter shot back, scrolling through the extensive list of options on the large screen. A collective 'no' came from the group when he passed the Star Wars saga yet again. They settled on an action-romance movie that Charlotte had never heard of, but if it fit the criteria of both Wanda and Peter, she supposed it couldn't be half bad.
The movie was good. As she watched the action sequences, Charlotte found her mind whirring away, cataloging their fighting styles and the acrobatics of the actors. Frowning, she realized how impractical and unrealistic it all was. She shook her head, willing herself to forget anything she'd just witnessed, lest it come back to bite her in the ass in a training session.
Shoddy fight scenes aside, it was a good movie. The two lead actors were beautiful, looking like a match made in heaven. About halfway into the movie, the tension between them finally unfolded in a steamy makeout with lingering camera shots that left little to the imagination. Sam jokingly covered Peter's eyes, lightening the mood as the room laughed.
However, as the characters onscreen stripped off their clothes, Charlotte's discomfort began to intensify. She watched with a mixture of fascination and trepidation as the scene unfolded, her heart rate quickening with each passing moment.
When the characters moved to the bedroom, the camera again lingering on their wandering hands and heavy breathing and the movement of their bodies, Charlotte felt a surge of insecurity wash over her. She couldn't help but compare herself to the characters onscreen, feeling acutely aware of her own lack of experience. It hadn't bothered her this much in a while. She recalled the first time she'd watched a salacious scene, sitting in her bed in Las Vegas, and felt herself blush despite being alone. She'd realized she was older than almost everyone she'd ever met and somehow less experienced. The only thing that brought her comfort was the fact that she had no prospects and, more importantly, no interest in being physically intimate with anyone.
But now…
She couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was somehow inadequate, especially when she recalled Steve's jokes about Bucky's past exploits as a ladies' man. He had been older when he was captured by HYDRA, already a man. She'd been so young, basically having grown up in the facility. Although she was grown now, there were certain experiences she just never felt comfortable having. Shame crept up her cheeks as she watched the female onscreen moan, looking ethereal and beautiful and so confident.
Sensing her discomfort, Natasha cast a concerned glance in her direction. "You okay, Char?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible over the soundtrack of the movie.
Charlotte hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Finally, she nodded, offering Natasha a forced smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
After the credits rolled and the rest of the team began to disperse to their rooms, Natasha lingered behind, her gaze fixed on Charlotte as she grabbed water from the fridge.
"Hey, you seemed a little off during the movie," Natasha remarked gently, her voice soft and reassuring. "Is everything okay?"
Charlotte hesitated for a moment, grappling with her embarrassment before finally deciding to confide in her friend. "Yeah, I guess I was feeling a bit... out of my depth," she admitted.
Natasha's brows furrowed as she asked gently, "How so?"
Charlotte hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering to the TV screen where the romantic scene played out before returning to Natasha. "It's just..." she trailed off, her cheeks flushing faintly as she gestured vaguely at the screen. "I just don't have much experience with... that," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. Her normal bravado and attitude was nowhere to be found, instead seeming like the scared little girl she still felt like on the inside more than she'd like to admit.
Natasha's expression softened. "It's okay, Charlotte," she reassured her, her tone gentle and reassuring. "Everyone has their own journey, their own pace. You've been in survival mode, on the run for years. I can't imagine this was top priority for you."
"No," Charlotte admitted, chuckling. "No, not really."
"I've been there. Believe me, I've had long stretches where I was only thinking about how to stay alive. This," She waved at the screen. "Is something you only want when you're safe and cared for and have the luxury of thinking about. You haven't had that before."
Charlotte nodded, her mind racing with a flood of conflicting emotions. "But now…I do." She ran a hand through her dark hair. "Except…I have no idea what the fuck to do."
"Well, it does come pretty naturally." Natasha grinned, elbowing her. When Charlotte's mask of concern didn't break, she softened again. "Hey. Look at me." She gripped her friend's arms and looked her straight in the eye. "If you want me to lay it all out for you, step by step, you know I will. No judgment. If you want to learn it on your own, there's a few websites I can send you to…although they have questionably accurate depictions of…everything. Just tell me how I can help you and I will."
"This is stupid, I know," Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"It's not stupid, Char." Nat's voice was quiet. "We've all been robbed of some pretty big things. It's dehumanizing. The last thing I ever want is for you to continue to feel crippled by the things that were taken from you."
"Thanks, Nat," she murmured gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I needed to hear that."
As Natasha turned to leave, a thoughtful expression crossed her features. "Oh, and one more thing," she added, casting a meaningful glance in Charlotte's direction. "If it helps, Barnes hasn't exactly been a ladies' man since he got back, either." She winked. "Maybe you can practice together."
Charlotte's eyes widened in surprise, a flush creeping into her cheeks at Natasha's words. "You had to ruin it," she called, throwing the water bottle at her.
Easily dodging it, Nat grinned as she walked backwards toward her room. "Did I?"