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Bucky James Barnes stared out the window in his bedroom at the compound. A forest sat behind the ginormous lawn. Even from here, he could hear the trees whistling in the wind. He liked to focus on it, cool his breathing.
Focus on something other than Steve.
It was strange being here. He didn’t feel like he belonged.
James was over a hundred years old. He wasn’t an Avenger. He was a former Hydra assassin. And his best friend, the love of his life, was in love with another man. Steve saved him, he led him here, into his home. His home with Tony Stark.
“You okay Barnes?” A female voice asked from his doorway.
He turned around, almost robotically, to face her. “Romanoff.”
She smiled knowingly at him and rolled her eyes, inviting herself into his room and deciding to sit next to him on his bed.
“Just because my door is open doesn’t mean I want people coming in.”
She ignored his comment. “You need to get over him.”
He scoffed, “oh it’s that easy is it?”
She looked pained. “I’m being serious, James.”
He closed his eyes. Not many people called him James, the assassin being one of few. They met through Steve, of course, but he was able to trust her pretty quickly. Unlike Sam, who took months to get used to. Natasha was a good listener, and they seemed to have some of the same issues.
“Look,” she sighed. “I know you and Steve have been through a lot together-“
“You don’t get it.”
“Of course I do, James. But they’re happy together. Aren’t you glad Steve gets his happy ending? After all this time?”
“What about mine?” He demanded, a sick and selfish emotion surging through him. Jealousy. Why did Tony Stark get to have him?
She, very delicately, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe this isn’t your happy ending.”
He looked up at her. She lost him. “What?”
“You can’t keep looking at the past. It’s 2023 and there are plenty of fish in the sea here.”
“There’s not many fish that want a murderer.”
She laughed. “You’d be surprised.”
He raised an eyebrow, but she just shrugged. He didn’t mind her having secrets and he wouldn’t push.
“I’m just saying,” she continued. “You don’t need Steve. Not in the way you think you do.”
—
He swung his axe through a small log, breaking it in half.
“Y’know, me and Tony fought doing this once,” Steve commented.
James held back an eye roll. “Yeah?”
But Steve was grinning. “Yeah. We used to get so pissed at each other.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Well obviously we still do, but it’s different.”
“How is it different? You guys still argue,” Bucky disagreed. He couldn’t help himself, even though he knew it was wrong to argue with Steve about Tony.
Steve tilted his head at him. “Well, sometimes when we ‘argue’ it’s just how we need to hash our stuff out. Most of it is lovely bickering.” A term obviously tokened by Natasha.
He really did not need to hear that corny line. Of course he already knew that. Every time he’d witnessed an “argument” between Steve and Tony it was all with love. Some stupid “I worry about you!” Or “stop putting yourself in danger!” Shit.
It hasn’t been as often since Thanos.
“Why are we chopping this wood anyway? Can’t Tony just buy some? He’s a billionaire right? Because that’s a thing now…”
Steve frowned. “Look Buck I know you don’t… approve of him but-“
“Is that what you think?”
His friend sighed, “I want you to like my boyfriend, Bucky. God- I sound like a teenager.” He shook his head, cutting another piece of wood.
“I like Tony…” he said. Then he sighed. “I just worry about you, Steve. I always have.”
Steve snorted. “I’m not small anymore. I don’t need you to protect me from everything. You know that right? You saw me fight Thanos didn’t you?”
This time he didn’t hold back his eye roll.
“Tony is a good guy. He deserves some more credit. He’s smart, and funny, and a lot stronger than you guys think. And he’s sweet. He cares about me. I want you to know he’s a good guy.”
I care about you too.
“Of course he is,” James sighed.
Who wouldn’t be a good guy for you?
“Look, I’m happy for you guys. I really am. But if he ever- if you ever need me, I’m here.”
Steve smiled, but he looked nervous. And a little confused. “I know.”
He chopped another log and tossed it into his pile before walking back off to the compound, leaving Steve in the dust. The first time he’d ever done that.
—
“Are you mad?” Steve asked with scrunched eyebrows.
James was shaving over a communal sink. Steve hardly used this bathroom since he moved in with Tony.
“No,” he replied simply.
“You kinda look mad,” Steve shrugged.
“I always look mad.”
“Bucky.”
He forces a smile. One even Steve wouldn’t detect wrong. “I’m not mad at you for being happy. You deserve to live.”
Steve looked conflicted. “I don’t want you to think I’m leaving you behind.”
“I’ll always be here.”
“At the compound or in my heart?” Steve responded jokingly.
James chuckled with a genuine smile this time. “I think you know the answer to that one.”
—
He’d seen Steve have a panic attack before. It was something that had been happening since even before the army. He’d always dealt with a great deal of anxiety, and James had always been there for him. Just like he’d promised.
So the second he heard the stutter in Steve’s breath during that meeting, he was ready to act. But someone got there before him.
Tony was placing his hands on Steve’s shoulders and guiding him to a chair, speaking to him in soothing tones and telling him everything would be okay. “Breathe honey,” he murmured.
Everyone gave them space, and James watched from a distance. He almost felt jealous. That was until he saw the fear in Steve’s glazed eyes. And then he heard the reassurance and protection in Tony’s voice.
Steve’s eyes slipped shut and his head fell against Tony’s chest. Bucky was out of his chair before he could stop himself.
“Tony,” Steve muttered with fluttering eyelids.
“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Tony said softly. “He’s okay.” It took him a minute to realize Tony was talking to the room. Not just the room; him.
Tony lifted Steve from the chair and let him lean his body weight against his side. “I’m gonna take him to our room and let him sleep this off. Can you wrap this up?”
Natasha nodded and moved to the front of the room. Everyone continued as if nothing had happened, out of respect for Steve, closing their meeting.
A slow but sure realization rested over him. Steve was in good hands. Maybe it was time James found some hands of his own.
—
An old photo of Steve and James from the war, the first one they fought in, hangs in his room. Among a wide collection of Polaroids that were gifted to him. He pretends to find them corny and stupid, but he cherishes them more than the team knows.
He blinks at the photo and for once his eyes are tear free. In fact he feels more tired than anything. Which is odd, considering how much sleep he used to lose over little things. Maybe living in the future wasn’t so bad.
Maybe taking Natasha’s advice was going to work in the long run.