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Summary:

“So basically I’m paying an escort to visit my parents with me and make out with me in the front yard so they’ll stop buggin’ me about getting married?” The brunet asked.

“Actually I think it says he’ll do it for free so long as he gets food. Damn I need to get into that business,” Clint piped up before removing his hearing aids and curling up against the Russian to nap.

Or the one where Steve pretends to be Bucky's boyfriend to get his parents off his case after Bucky finds his ad on Craigslist

Notes:

The ad that inspired this fic can be found here at my tumblr where I cry over Steve and Bucky with ocassional photos of pretty things

This is my first Stucky fic so ConCrit is gladly accepted :)

Work Text:

Bucky sighed. Well, it was more than a sigh. In the unrelenting humid heat of mid-summer Brooklyn, he was too warm and too sticky, and the elevator in his apartment block had finally broken down after their cumstain of a landlord pretended that his building wasn’t a death trap. Sure, the rent on his apartment was cheap but was the six floor trudge up to his flat really worth it? Jiggling his keys until a push and grunt finally opened the door, Bucky dropped his backpack where someone would probably trip over it and collapsed on the couch, throwing his arm dramatically across his face before finally sighing heavily, as if Atla’s burden was passed onto him. A polite, if not disgruntled, cough drew his attention to the other sofa and Bucky lazily dropped his head to the side.

“What,” he said with little inflection and no questioning. Bucky was hot and sweaty and all he really wanted to do was take a shower for about a million years. However, that was unlikely.

“I could hear you sighing from a mile away, Barnes,” his room mate murmured into her coffee with the barest hint of a Russian accent seeping in. Natasha was one of Bucky’s best friends, a brilliant ballerina who gave up performing to teach disadvantaged children in the inner city and also provider of sarcastic commentary to the tragedy known as the life of James Buchanan Barnes.

“Shut up Nat, not all of us are weirdly silent and graceful,” Bucky replied. Natasha never spoke of her time in St Petersburg as a child but Bucky guessed that it wasn’t exactly filled with hugs and teddy bears. Whilst Natasha was currently wrapped up in an oversized hoodie and leggings with fluffy socks, Bucky knew that she could easily restrain and kill a person twice her size. He wasn’t quite sure if that’s normal ballerina training but he didn’t ask Natasha of her time in Russia and she didn’t talk about his time in the army before being honourably discharged with a number of medals and a reputation for being the best sniper in the entire damn U.S army, earning him the title of the Winter Soldier.

Before the redhead could respond, her two boyfriends came in from the balcony, a blush high on both their cheeks and animatedly chatting about birds and seeds. Each man dropped to either side of Natasha and gave her a sloppy kiss on her cheeks before she softly smiled into her coffee, never quite revealing how much she adored both men. Bucky found it strange when his best friend introduced the two strangers to him, explaining how, “This is Sam,” pointing to a smiley man with a razor sharp wit Bucky appreciated, “and this is Clint,” gesturing to a man with bird seed in his hair and pizza stains on his shirt. Whilst Bucky was initially cautious of Natasha and her two boyfriends, she had been happier than ever and Bucky would never take that away from her.

“Stop it you two, I’m finding out what’s got Bucky into a tizz,” Nat ordered her two lovers who did indeed stop kissing her on the cheeks and instead leaned over her lap and lazily kissed each other. “Spill the details, you haven’t sighed that much since they cancelled In The Flesh,” she pointed out, causing Bucky to roll his eyes and mumble under his breath, “they left it on a fuckin’ cliffhanger and it could’ve been so great.” Speaking up and drawing the attention of Sam and Clint, Bucky said, “I went to go see Mom and Dad for lunch. Becca’s got engaged to her fella and now I’m suddenly the spinster in the attic. I ain’t even twenty five and they want me married; it’s not my fault that Becca met her soulmate in high school. They keep moanin’ that I’m alone and that Mrs Carter’s got a girl straight out of college with an international relations major who I’d just "get on with so well”. Have they not thought that a guy’s gotta find his own date and not have his parents findin’ all these eligible girls and guys?!“ Bucky’s parents accepted him as bisexual when he came out a week before he went out on his first tour but always seemed to have an endless supply of girls with excellent majors and trust funds.

Natasha smirked that signature smile of hers, the one that got men to do her bidding and earned her the appropriately creepy name of the Black Widow back when she made a name for herself on the American ballet scene. "Tony sent me a link yesterday, you might just enjoy it,” she stated cryptically, looking pointedly at Bucky’s phone when his lock screen lit up with an iMessage from “Actual KGB Assassin” and a Craigslist link. He didn’t expect much when he opened the link, skimming through the first sentences until he took a double take at, “If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for Thanksgiving or any other occasion, but have me pretend to be in a very long or serious relationship with you, to torment your family, I’m game."

"Nat!”, Bucky spluttered, blush rising up his face, “what is this?!"

"Exactly what it says on the tin. This dude’ll pretend to be your date to piss off your family. If you read any further before coughing your organs up, you’d have noticed he’ll also be very lewd and openly PDA. Which would get your parents to get off your case.” Natasha explained, as if this wasn’t a terrible idea.

“So basically I’m paying an escort to visit my parents with me and make out with me in the front yard so they’ll stop buggin’ me about getting married?” The brunet asked.

“Actually I think it says he’ll do it for free so long as he gets food. Damn I need to get into that business,” Clint piped up before removing his hearing aids and curling up against the Russian to nap.

“Come on Barnes, it’ll placate your parents. Just grab his ass occasionally and your mom and dad’ll be so embarrassed it’ll never come up again. What could go so wrong?"

"He could be a serial killer!! It literally says he’s a felon!!” Bucky screamed at his room mates. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how blasé they were, it was like that time Clint decided he could totally do some archery tricks high as a kite. If he had normal friends (the if was very important here) maybe he would go out and have a beer, not have to suddenly give his friend an alibi, firstly for the arrows littering the street below and secondly for the distinct smell of weed in his apartment.

Once again, Bucky sighed. Natasha threw a stress ball at him to gain his attention. “Bucky,” the nickname indicating she was serious and Bucky would have to listen to her, “You were in the army. You’re the best fucking sniper this country’s seen. I’m pretty sure you could handle a serial killer, sniper rifle or not.” He wasn’t going to get out of that, not with the death stare of killer ballerina and the sympathetic gaze of Sam boring into his soul.

“Fine okay, I’ll give this guy a call, if it makes you lovebirds happy.” Bucky finally relented to the grins of Sam and Natasha. The redhead flicked Clint’s shoulder, getting the archer to blearily look to his girlfriend who quickly signed that Bucky was going to make a call and no, he couldn’t make any inappropriate noises. He frowned and snuggled his head into Natasha’s lap, joined by Sam.

Bucky brought up the Craigslist number up on his phone and closed his door behind him in an attempt for privacy. This could quite possibly be the weirdest phone call he’s ever made and this overtakes that time he got stuck in scaffolding doing parkour with Natasha in the early morning. Bucky certainly wasn’t anxious, three tours in Afghanistan tends to get rid of that, but he couldn’t help but worry about that sense of impending room that increased with each dial.

“Hello?” A deep voice answered, deeper than what Bucky expected.

“Hi, um, I saw your ad on Craigslist?” Bucky felt like a fool, it would be just his luck that he misdialled.

“Oh yeah, I remember that.” Deep voice dude chuckled. “So, you need someone to disappoint your parents?"

"No, no! It’s just, ah, my sister got engaged recently. And now my parents think I must be destined to bachelorhood forever because apparently a twenty four year old needs to be married in this day and age.” Bucky explained, suddenly realising that this was probably a bad idea.

Deep voice dude laughed. “Oh so you need a date? I can do dates. But if you don’t mind me askin’, you’re a guy right?"

"Uh, yeah, is that gonna be a problem? Because I know I ain’t a gal but I’d kinda prefer if you weren't homophobic or shit.” Okay technically Bucky was bisexual but even in this day and age, apparently finding two genders attractive was a bad thing.

“Oh that’s not a problem, I don’t discriminate on who I engage in excess PDA with.” He said and Bucky smiled at that, glad at least that his soon-to-be murderer had a sense of humour.

“That’s great. Um, do you wanna meet up somewhere so we can talk about this better and I can find out if you’re gonna murder me or not?” Smooth, Bucky. Aggravate your future murderer, it’ll get you everywhere in life.

The man at the end of the line gracefully snorted, a sound Bucky thought could never exist. “Sure, sounds like a great idea. The Starbucks on Eastern Parkway & Franklin Avenue? I’m free tomorrow morning."

"Yeah that sounds awesome. Uh, I’m Bucky by the way."

"Steve.” He said before hanging up.

Well Bucky, he thought to himself, that could have gone much worse. Finding the wire to charge his phone, Bucky left for the living room where the trio now looked at him expectedly, to which Bucky said, “Okay I did it now stop with the high fives and get Netflix up.” That didn’t quite stop the looks Nat, Sam and Clint gave him but at least they stuffed their faces with leftover pizza instead of interrogating him.

-

Bucky found himself out of bed before noon and walking to Starbucks. Sure it probably would’ve made more sense to take the subway but he needed the time to clear his head. He looked decent enough, even with Natasha rolling her eyes at his usual combination of black skinny jeans and a long sleeve shirt disguising the majority of his metal prosthetic. Whilst he had finally got over the shame of the arm, he understood that seeing a man with an arm not of flesh but metal was pretty scary. It was experimental, designed by Stark Industries who had moved from weapons manufacturing to humanitarian work after the very public mid-life crisis of their CEO. Like any other Stark product, it worked amazingly with 60% pressure and temperature sensitivity, much better than no left arm whatsoever. Bucky still stuffed his left hand into his pocket though, accustomed to hiding it. He opened the door and found that he had thankfully missed the work hour rush of commuters practically inhaling their coffee in an attempt to wake up. After ordering his usual caffè mocha, Bucky found a seat towards the back of the store where he could still watch the door - you can take the man out of a war but you can’t take the war out of the man.

Sipping at his drink, Bucky noticed the door opening and a man entering. He was blond, well built and his shirt looked like it was about to tear if he moved too much. He couldn’t hear his order but it looked like a calorific mess of cream and chocolate. It wasn’t until he said thanks to the barista that Bucky realised it was Steve.

“Uh, hi? Steve?” Steve turned around and grinned. Bucky stood up and reached his hand out to meet Steve’s hand and shake. Now Bucky considered himself quite a tall guy but even Steve had at least an inch on him and the chair opposite Bucky seemed to be engulfed by Steve’s mass.

“Hot chocolate? Really? You know it’s summer right?” Bucky asked, cursing his non-existent brain to mouth filler. Sure, why not Barnes, insult the guy who’s gonna help you out.

“Until Starbucks makes something even more unhealthy, I will drink hot chocolate as much as I want when I want.” Steve replied with a wide smile, looking like the human embodiment of the sun before drinking of half the mug and revealing a large foam moustache.

Bucky gestured vaguely. “You’ve kinda got… something around your mouth,” to which Steve licked his lips, getting rid of the foam but also getting Bucky to look at his lips which, as a man who found many attractive, were very ample and red.

“Thanks. So you wanna explain more about your parental issues or are we going to sit here buzzed on caffeine and pretend I’m not groping at you in front of your parents soon?” Steve grinned, he was way too awake for nine in the morning.

Bucky dropped his eyes to his drink, trying to muster up that charm that deserted him in the war. “Okay so you know how my sister’s gettin’ married, well they’re constantly making digs at me just because I haven’t had a relationship since high school and apparently that’s unhealthy. Yeah, wait until they see me having nightmares and no regular sleeping pattern and then come back about being "unhealthy.” He muttered into his drink. No point in lying who he was and what he did with his time, there wasn’t much you can do on social security.

Steve gestured to Bucky’s left arm. “Were you in the army as well?” Bucky raised his head at the implication.

“Yeah, three tours in Afghanistan. College wasn’t for me and it’s a regular income. I take it you were in the army as well?"

"Yeah, Iraq, two tours. Captain Steve Rogers, at your service.” Steve drawled with a lazy salute. Something was trying to make itself known in Bucky’s mind. Suddenly a lightbulb lit above his head. “You’re Captain Rogers! You’re Captain America!” Bucky blurted out.

The blond chuckled to himself. “Yep that’s me.” Bucky remembered his manners and saluted his senior, army training still ingrained into him. Captain America was the stuff of legends, the best soldier for the army and forever sacrificing himself for his regiment.

Steve outright laughed, a gentle noise that made Bucky smile shyly, forgetting what it was like to have a conversation with someone who a) didn’t have a bird obsession and b) probably served for the USSR as a child spy. “Oh my God, no one’s saluted me in a long time, left the army years ago. Lemme guess, corporal?"

"Sergeant actually. They fast tracked me when they realised I was good as a sniper. Sergeant James Barnes but I haven’t been called that for a long time.” It was nice to talk to someone who understand the army like he did. Sure, the whole you-could-die-with-one-bad-step thing wasn’t his greatest memory of the army but the comradeship, he missed.

Steve looked up quickly. “You’re the Winter Soldier?!” He asked incredulously.

"Yeah…? Why, have the privates been passin’ rumours ‘bout me?“ Bucky was confused. Apparently his reputation preceded him.

"No, no, it’s just. You’re kinda a ghost story. Nobody really believes that the army had such a brilliant sniper that he was feared by the Taliban. You’re the thing that goes bump at night. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard a story that you’re still in Afghanistan, avengin’ soldiers killed by extremists, a shadow hiding in the dark and whatever. And yet he’s in front of me in Brooklyn of all places, drinking Starbucks.” Steve smiled.

“Fuck you at least I’m not drinking hot chocolate.” Bucky retaliated, a wide grin matching Steve’s. They fell into a comfortable silence, meeting each other’s eyes and smiling softly until both their drinks were finished.

“So, when do I meet the parents?” Steve asked as he put his mug down.

“They said they’re free for lunch next Saturday so I guess we’ll go then. I’ll pick you up outside here and we can drive there, it won’t take long."

Steve scoffed. "Fuck no, we’re going in my car. It’ll piss off your parents even more, don’t you worry about that. But I’ll see you outside here anyway, Saturday at eleven, okay?” He asked as he stood up.

“Yeah, yeah that’s great. So I’ll guess I’ll see you there?” Bucky said as he continued to sit; he had nothing better to do all day than to stay in Starbucks and read the book he stuffed into his satchel.

Steve sauntered up to the door before turning around and smiling, “Yep. Bye Buck!” before he turned left on the street and walked by, Bucky watching him until he could no longer see the fine form of Steve’s body. He was pretty sure the coffee helped with it, but the warm feeling left by the nickname of a nickname Steve called him made Bucky smile to himself.

-

Saturday morning rolled by and Bucky found himself in quite possibly the oldest car he’d even been in. “Uh Steve? How old’s this thing?” Bucky asked nervously from the passenger seat, hands fidgeting in his lap. He was pretty sure if he touched anything it would fall off.

“Don’t worry Buck, this car’s a year younger than me, we’re fine!” Steve grinned at Bucky, momentarily taking his eyes off the road to look at Bucky. Seeing him again at close distance, Bucky noticed just how blue Steve’s eyes were. And how sharp his jawline was. And how red his bitten lips were. Okay so he was attractive, sue a guy.

Still slightly nervous, Bucky decided to look out at the speeding highway and listen to the pop punk music Steve was apparently a fan of, nerves slowly settling. Looking back at Steve, Bucky bit at his lower lip before speaking. “Steve? It said on your ad that you’re a felon."

Steve briefly looked at Bucky before returning his attention to the road. "I was waitin’ for you to ask. I guess you wanna know?” Bucky nodded. “Good thing your parents are on the outskirts. This is a long story."

"So you know I was in the army? Well before that, I was as thin as a stick. It’s a modern miracle I lived to see puberty. Anything makin’ its rounds in the winter, I’d get it. I was constantly either in hospital or off school sick. When I wasn’t, I was gettin’ into fights. No matter how many times Mom said not to fight back, I still would. Came home most days either bleedin’ or bruisin’ six ways from Sunday and every time, Mom’d say, "Steven Grant Rogers, one of these days you’re gonna be the death of me” before she’d give me a hug and tell me to stop gettin’ into fights. I really wanted to get into the army. Felt I had to, when men were dying over in Iraq and Afghanistan so I kept enlisting until this doctor, German fella, took me in and gave me some sort of med that helped me be less starved twink and more healthy soldier. Put on weight, exercised me enough that all my conditions didn’t affect me as much as they used to, gave me some kind of experimental hearing aid, the whole thing. Halfway through my first tour, Mom got sick. Really, really sick. She was the one in hospital all the time now and I wanted to stay home so I could look after her. But if I wasn’t workin’, we couldn’t afford her health insurance so I had to go back to the army. Sent all my earnings to her so she could stay in hospital and get better. When I finished my second tour, I came back home, hoping Mom would be better. And she wasn’t. She discharged herself from the hospital and stayed at home, exactly as I told her not to. I asked 'round and apparently she wasn’t getting her meds from the pharmacy because some fuckers decided it would be fun to stop the terminally ill woman from getting to the pharmacy and getting better. They’d stop her getting to the door and they’d make her chase round town trying to find a pharmacy that didn’t even exist so she could get her stuff. Which made her get even sicker. And then when I came back home after grocery shopping one day, I went into Mom’s room an- and she was dead. Died in her sleep. And she looked so fucking peaceful, as if it wasn’t the fault of some motherfuckers who thought it would be a joke to let her die that she was dead. I was so angry. Dad died when I was young so Mom was the only person I had. And then she was dead. I knew who did it, some gang in Brooklyn called HYDRA, sadistic fucks. So I got the gun out from under my bed and found a couple of baseball bats in the house. And I waltzed straight into the HYDRA base and beat every single piece of shit up. Managed to throw scalding water into the face of one of their lackeys. Shot a couple of guys in the stomach. Even broke a couple of ribs of their leader, some asshole called Alexander Pierce, thought he could do anything just because he had a nice house in Manhattan and he was the CEO of some uptown companies. Turned out someone called the cops on me and I got arrested covered in blood and God knows what else. Did you know Captain America got three and a half years for aggravated assault?“

Bucky shook his head. "Yeah a lot of people don’t know that. That’s why I haven’t been in the papers yet, the God-fearing citizens of the old US of A don’t want to know their perfect soldier nearly killed a couple of people for fuckin’ around with his family.” Steve finally stopped speaking and looked out to the open road before breathing heavily. That was a lot to take in, Bucky thought.

“I woulda helped you. Dicks like them had it comin’. You don’t mess around with family.” Bucky said stubbornly.

“Have you forgotten about the bit where I’m pretendin’ to be your boyfriend to mess round with your family?” Steve quipped.

“Okay first of all this is very different, mister.” Bucky said as he pointed at Steve lazily. “Now, tragic backstory over, what do you do now apart from your weird date thing?"

"You know Stark Industries?” Steve enquired.

“Yeah pretty well, they made my prosthetic.” Bucky answered as he rolled his hoodie sleeve up enough to show off part of the interlocking metal plates. Whilst Steve’s eyes widened slightly, he didn’t give the sympathetic stare most did.

“Yeah well that guy’s basically pissed off every government and terrorist organisation out there. After I finished my prison time, Stark found me and said "it’s nice to find someone who hates HYDRA as much as I do,” I think that guy’s got some problem with people doin’ the shit he used to do and he asked me to be his bodyguard. Or it was something more like “okay Rocky, you look like you could beat up a tank, I want you to make sure this pretty face doesn’t get smashed in, I’ll get Pepper to pay you well” and now I make sure no one kills Tony Stark, which is actually a lot harder than what it sounds like.“

Bucky giggled to himself. "Oh it’s the next left to my parents house, did we really spend that much time talking?"

"Apparently so. Ready to embarrass your parents?” Steve asked as he parked outside Bucky’s parents’ house.

“Let’s do this.”

-

“Mom, Dad, I’m here!” Bucky shouted as both of them took their shoes off by the door. Winifred Barnes bustled into the corridor, looking far too young for her age (the miracle of hair dye) and wearing a flowery apron.

“Oh James I’ve missed you!” She said as she stretched up to hug Bucky, her son leaning down slightly so she didn’t strain herself.

“Missed you too Mom, where’s Dad?” Bucky asked as Winifred kissed his cheeks excessively.

“He’s in the kitchen. Oh sweetie, who’s this?” Winifred said as she looked past Bucky. Steve had magically conjured a cigarette and a lighter and was already blowing out smoke in their direction.

“Mom, this is my boyfriend, Steve. Steve this is my mom.” This was already going better than expected, his mom looking slightly shocked. Steve put his hand out with a “hi darlin’, nice to see where Bucky gets his good looks from.” It took Bucky so much not to laugh out loud and ruin the act but eventually she composed herself and turned back to the kitchen, ordering Bucky to say hello to his dad. Bucky went for the kitchen but Steve grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him against the wall and ducking in for an open mouthed kiss, tongues meeting and moaning quietly. Fuck, Steve was a good kisser, Bucky thought before George Barnes came into the hallway and coughed pointedly. Steve moved away but only after Bucky pushed him away, cigarette still lit in his hand.

“I take it you’re Steve then.” Bucky’s dad stated gruffly.

“Well I guess it depends on who’s asking, I’ve been called many things in my life, I had an orgy once and got called sexy communist.” Steve smirked, knowing Bucky’s parents were probably brought up during McCarthyism. Winifred and George looked anywhere but at Steve and Bucky was biting his lip hard so he wouldn’t laugh.

“Come on Steve, Becca’s probably in the kitchen as well, you should totally meet her.” Bucky dragged Steve into the kitchen with his parents following, smiling widely when he saw his younger sister. “Hey Becca this is Steve. Steve this is Becca, my little sis.” Bucky introduced the two.

“Well Becca, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Steve said, raking his eyes up and down her body. If Steve was seriously checking Becca out, Bucky’d have decked him right in the jaw but he knew it was all for show. Bucky sat down at the dining table next to the kitchen, motioning for Steve to join him. “How’s college sis? Treating you well?” Bucky asked of Becca.

“Yeah it’s going well, handed in that paper for my Foreign Politics class last week. Time to see how anti-Communist my professor is.” Becca said, flipping her hair behind her shoulder, brown just like Bucky’s.

“Psh, bullshit. Everyone born before the nineties’s afraid of fuckin’ communism just because old Stalin fucked it up. He didn’t even follow Marxist theory, he just pretended he was doing it right. Real communism is the true way forward. What’s so fucking wrong about treating people equally, instead of letting the capitalist pigs in power make all the decisions that benefit them at the expense of the working class.” Steve suddenly announced before raising his cigarette to his lips again and sucking in the smoke. Bucky knew the dangers of smoking, saw what happened after his grandpa had a heart attack after a lifetime of smoking but fuck, Steve looked good smoking. It was fucked up but true.

George looked shocked. “Lemme tell you something son, you weren’t alive when there was a real threat from the Commies, we were all scared that any day the Reds would hit us with a nuke."

"Did I fucking stutter?” Steve asked sweetly, looking like an angel. Even Bucky was shocked, thankful for his mom bringing lasagna to the dining table and ordering everyone to dig in. George have Steve a dirty look when he put out his cigarette on the table. “What does a guy have to do to get a drink round here?” Steve asked loudly.

“Well, we have juice, soda, water, milk…” Winifred offered.

“Nah, do you have any vodka? I could go for vodka.” Steve stated. Bucky felt compelled to speak up. “My family doesn’t drink, we stopped after my cousin got in a crash with a drunk driver."

"That’s a crying shame, you always gotta have vodka.” Both of Bucky’s parents and even Becca were staring at Bucky, willing him to do something about his out of control boyfriend. Bucky elbowed Steve in the ribs with a “shut up, we’ll get some later, if you’re not working tomorrow we’ll get hammered tonight.” Steve smirked at that, seemingly okay with that promise.

Winifred decided to change the subject. “So Steve, how did you meet Bucky?”, a seemingly neutral question but the mischievous glint in Steve’s eye alerted Bucky to the fact it wasn’t going to be like that.

“Bucky found my video on Pornhub and was so impressed by my skills he kept commenting on the video hoping I’d reply. Eventually I did. I’m trying to convince him to do a video with me and see if if gets more views than all the other videos I’ve made.” Steve said casually as Bucky nearly choked on his lasagna.

“Steve! Oh my God, you can’t just say that.” Bucky tried to not look at his parents or his sister, knowing his face was burning. Steve took it all in his stride and kept saying inappropriate things, hitting on Becca whilst Bucky pretended not to notice and mentioning his time he worked at an abortion clinic. Steve was certainly playing his role well and Bucky had to say, this wasn’t the worst thing he’d done. At least Steve wasn’t a serial killer and he had a great sense of humour along with the fantastic body Bucky couldn’t help but look at. No one had abs like his. His entire family was so flabbergasted by him they didn’t mention Becca’s engagement once. Bucky and Steve - 1. Barnes Family - 0.

Eventually the lunch came to an end and George was trying to get Steve out of the house without explicitly saying so. Bucky found it hilarious and told Steve so, whispering in his ear as they dried dishes and put them away, taking much longer than necessary thanks to Steve constantly putting his hands into the back pockets of Bucky’s jeans and luring him into heated kisses, only interrupted by Becca poking Bucky in the ribs and reminding him to do his share of chores. Eventually it was all done and Bucky was saying his farewells to his family. It was obvious they wanted to talk to him alone so he told Steve to go put his shoes on and wait by the front door.

“Well, Steve’s quite a character.” Winifred put lightly whilst smoothing Bucky’s hoodie out after hugging him.

“Character is quite a mild word for what he is,” George chipping in with his two cents.

Becca nodded. “You just be careful Bucky. I don’t exactly trust him.” After Bucky hugged all of them, he found his shoes and tied them up before Steve tried to put a hickey on his neck, only pulling away when he heard the Barnes family enter the hallway. After a cheerful farewell, the two men walked back to Steve’s car with the intention of getting in and driving back to Brooklyn. Instead Steve crowded Bucky against the side of his ancient car and dragged his mouth once again down the other man’s neck whilst Bucky grabbed at his hair, breathless from pleasure. Eventually they managed to get in the car where Steve blared heavy metal from the speakers as they drove away from the house, Bucky waving out of the car window until he could no longer see his family. He turned to Steve and with the barest eye contact, burst out in laughter, tears streaming down both their faces.

“Best fucking thing I’ve ever done.” Bucky announced to Steve with a matching grin.

“Same! Your parents’ faces! Jesus Christ, that was so much fun. We should do that more, who knows what else we could do.” Steve said.

“Well, we could go to Starbucks again tomorrow. If you want.” Bucky blurted out, his charm non-existent but his dick still excited by this ridiculously attractive man. Steve looked softly at Bucky, a small but true smile growing on his face.

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

-

One month later, their weekly Starbucks dates had become routine, ten in the morning on Saturdays, Bucky always making fun of Steve’s extensive order and Steve always flirting with Bucky.

Two months later, Steve and Bucky were having a Netflix marathon in Steve’s apartment, binge watching Breaking Bad and making their way through all the junk food in the cupboard, curled up against each other under a blanket. They were halfway through season two until Steve paused the show, sitting up and warning, “don’t punch me, okay?”, softly pressing his lips against Bucky’s until Bucky started to press back, their first real kiss, eleven at night and no where else Bucky’d rather be.

Three months later, Bucky had to tell his parents that Steve was actually his boyfriend. After initial confusion - “sweetie you already told us this” - came laughter after Bucky actually explained who Steve was the first time round, Steve stammering apologies for being so crude and asking for forgiveness. None of them could stop laughing (even George) and Becca ordered them to look all cutesy whilst she and Winifred could take photos of them. Instead of their first kiss in the house, heated and passionate, Steve and Bucky kissed chastely, one of Steve’s hands resting at Bucky’s hip and one of Bucky’s hands at the back of Steve’s neck, a smile playing at both their mouths.

(Natasha won the bet on how quickly they’d get together.)