11

(When I first came out as a lesbian four years ago, I honestly expected at least someone to be surprised but everyone I've told was like 'okay, and?' or like 'bitch I know.')

Steve POV 

I'm sitting around, reading a book, enjoying my retirement, when my phone buzzes. It's Sam. He's complaining about Bucky. Again. He texts me at least seven times a day to complain about something Bucky has said or done. 

Sam: pls halp hes making less and less sense every day 

Steve: And swearing more and more, I bet. 

Sam: ye and his cursing doesnt make no sense either

Steve: What do you mean?? 🤔 

Sam: i cant think of any examples rn but youll see next time u talk 2 him 

Sam: also did u get invited to starks party hes throwing a party and i got invited i feel so special 

Steve: Yes, I was. 

Sam: gr8 me too. stark says there will b alcohol and everyone will b drunk 

Steve: I won't be drunk. 

Sam: thro is bringing strong asgardien shit 

Steve: Thro? 

Sam: fuck u i mean thor 

Steve: Language! 

Sam: F U C K 

Steve: Will Bucky be there? He left his backpack here and I want to give it to him. 

Sam: yesh ill be dragging him along 

------------- 

"Anyway, I invited that John Walker guy," Tony tells me when I show up to his party. "I just want to meet him. He seemed very confused about the fact that I know where he lives." 

"He isn't an Avenger, though!" Clint shouts from a nearby sofa. 

"Right," Tony agrees. "Being Captain America doesn't make him an Avenger. The government can't make him an Avenger. That's Barton's job." 

"That's my job," Clint nods, pointing to himself. "And I'm great at it. Name ONE time I messed up with recruiting an Avenger. You can't! It hasn't happened!" 

He continues to talk about how great he is at choosing people, listing all the great people that were supposedly his idea. I think he's already drunk, so I ignore him. 

"Have Sam and Bucky gotten here yet?" I ask Tony. 

"Yeah. They showed up together. Kinda gay if you ask me, haha. Amirite?"

I don't see what's gay about that, but I've never truly understood everything that Tony says anyway. 

"This is a shoes off household, Steven," Clint declares, pointing at my feet. "Remove them at once." 

"You don't have to take your shoes off," Tony says. "Also, uh, what's with the backpack?" 

"It's Bucky's," I clarify. "I'm returning it to him." 

"Just look for Sam. He's been shadowing him." 

"Thanks." 

I set off to look for Sam, who I find talking to Natasha. And, just like Tony said, Bucky is sitting down less than five feet away from them, looking like he'd rather be dead than be here. He got a haircut. It looks good. I sit down next to him and hand him his backpack. 

"Hey," I say. He doesn't reply, just takes the backpack. "I like your haircut." 

He mumbles something that could be 'Thank you,' but is more likely something like, 'Fuck off.' 

"You don't look at all happy to see me," I poke stupidly. Of course he's not happy to see me! I've been awful. 

"Last time I saw you, you hit me with a pan and called me crazy," he snaps. "Sorry if I'm not bursting into song at the sight of you." 

That's fair. 

Sam seems to sense that he's upset and abruptly turns around. He crouches down next to Bucky and asks me if I can give them a second to themselves. I tell him I will, then get up and totally eavesdrop. Well, it's not intentional. I really should walk farther away, but I'm curious. I really missed Bucky and I'd like to hear his voice more. 

"You okay?" Sam asks softly, to which Bucky nods. 

"I really don't want to be here, though. I think I'm gonna go home." 

"I drove us here." 

"I'll walk." 

"We live in another state. It was a four hour drive." 

We? Do they live together? No, no, of course not! He means the live in the same state, not the same house. 

"I'll hail a taxi, then." 

"No. We can leave. I'd rather leave early than let you get into a car with a stranger."

It's nice to know that Sam is concerned for him, but I don't think it's necessary. Anyone with an ounce of common sense would never try anything with a man that looks like Bucky, what with his metal arm and resting face. 

"....Nevermind," Bucky relents quietly. Submissively, almost. "I'll stay here." 

Sam looks up at me and glares at me as if he blames me for Bucky's attitude.

"Alright, then. We'll stay, but you better start enjoying yourself, got it? That means no more following me." 

Bucky nods again and Sam stands up. 

"Your fault," he says to me. "That's your fault." 

"What is?" 

"He doesn't argue anymore. And his head still hurts from when you hit him." 

"Well, to be fair, I didn't know-" I try to reason.  

"Whatever. Do you want to meet John Walker? He's an asshole." 

Why would I want to meet him, then? 

I do want to meet him. I want to know why Bucky hates him so much. Bucky's a pretty good judge of character. 

While we're looking for John Walker, I casually ask, "So, what's the deal with you and Bucky?" 

"What d'you mean?" 

Ah. Playing dumb, I see. 

"You seem very close all of a sudden." 

"We've been spending a lot of time together," he explains. 

"Like... going on dates?" I ask hesitantly- not that I would care if they were dating- and he pulls a face. 

"No! No. Gross. We've been, um, working together. We're buds now. Oh, look. There he is. Bye." 

He pushes me towards the guy and runs away. 

"Hi," I extend a hand toward John. "I'm Steve Rogers." 

He laughs and shakes my hand. He seems nice enough. 

"I know. I'm John Walker. I already met your boyfriend. He does not like me!"

"My boyfriend?" I tilt my head, confused. I don't have a boyfriend, last I checked. 

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to assume. Sergeant Barnes? I met him." 

"Oh, haha!" I laugh good naturedly. "No, Bucky isn't my boyfriend. I'm sure he'll warm up to you. He's just a little surly." 

"I don't think he will, but thanks for trying." 

Yes. He definitely seems nice. I like him. 

But... Bucky is a good judge of character. And Bucky hates this guy. Sam does, too. Maybe there's something to him I haven't seen yet.

"Bucky isn't much of a people person anymore," I sigh.

"I think he's been hurt too many times," John reasons. "Trust doesn't come easily for someone as damaged as him." 

I nod in agreement, looking across the room at Bucky, who has decided to stick to the wall instead of continuing to follow Sam. Thor approaches him and hands him a glass, pats him on the shoulder, and comes over to us. 

"My friend!" He greets me with a hug and turns toward John. "I don't believe we've met." 

"I'm John Walker," he introduces himself. "I'm the new Captain America." 

"Of course you are!" Thor bellows happily. "I am Thor, Son of Odin, God of Thunder. Do you drink?" 

"No." 

"Hm. But you do, Steve, right?" 

"Yeah, I do, but I don't want to get drunk tonight, Thor. I've gotta drive home."

"Just stay the night!" 

Good plan. 

-- 

I've had one glass of Thor's mead. I am not drunk. Yet. I'm almost there. Bucky, on the other hand, has had three and things have just gone downhill. He kissed me right on the mouth and I got startled so I pushed him, and now he's sitting on the floor, crying. Natasha is crouching next to him, holding his hand and trying not to laugh. 

"I'm going home now," he announces once he's calmed down. 

"How are you going to get there?" I challenge. 

"I. Am. Going. To. Hail. A. Taxi," he says, poking his knee emphatically with each word.

"I think you should just wait for Sam." 

"I can drive him home," John offers. "He lives in D.C. I'm headed that way and I was going to leave soon anyway."

"I can drive him home," Bucky mocks drunkenly. "Go fuck yourself." 

"Will you tell Sam I've got him?" John asks, taking hold of Bucky's arm and pulling him up off the floor. "I don't want him to worry."  

"I will," I promise, and he leads Bucky out to his car. 

What a nice guy.