8. {City Duty}

As the days passed, the strain between you and Bucky seemed to thicken with each passing moment. Despite your attempts to carry on as if nothing had changed, there was an unspoken distance that lingered between you, a silent barrier that neither knew how to breach.  

Even after the intimate moment shared within the parking garage on your birthday, it did little to resolve the lingering questions that hung between you both. If anything, it seemed to exacerbate the tension between you and Barnes. This went beyond the silly prank war that had initially sparked your connection. This was an entirely new battlefield, one of emotions. A war that you feared you were on the verge of losing.

Yet again, it felt as though Bucky was avoiding you, or perhaps you were avoiding him? Regardless, neither of you made any effort to broach the topic of what had transpired in the car that night. You chose to attribute it to the influence of alcohol, conveniently sidestepping any deeper discussion. You even avoided confiding in Natasha about it, the silence in that speaking volumes in itself.

One afternoon, Bucky finds himself sitting in the common area of the compound, nursing a cup of coffee as he tries to lose himself in his thoughts. Across from him, Sam Wilson lounges in a nearby chair, flipping through a magazine with casual indifference.

"So, Barnes," Sam starts, his tone casual but with an underlying edge. "You gonna tell me what's been up with you lately?"

Bucky looks up, meeting Sam's probing gaze with a guarded expression. "What are you talking about?" he deflects, his voice tinged with irritation.

Sam leans forward, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies Bucky's demeanor. "Cut the crap, man," he says bluntly. "You've been distant, even for you. And don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been avoiding Y/N."

Bucky's jaw tenses at the mention of your name, a flicker of guilt crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a steely resolve. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replies his voice clipped.

Sam raises an eyebrow, unconvinced by Bucky's deflections. "Come on, Barnes," he presses, his tone firm but not unkind. "I may not have your super-soldier senses, but I'm not blind. Something's been eating at you, and I'm willing to bet it's got something to do with Y/N."

Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze flickering away from Sam's probing stare. "I appreciate the concern, Sam," he begins, his voice tight with tension. "But I've got it under control."

Sam arches an eyebrow, unconvinced by Bucky's deflection. "Under control, huh?" he remarks skeptically. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're on the verge of imploding."

Bucky's jaw clenches, a surge of frustration rising within him. "I said I've got it," he snaps, his tone sharper than intended. "I don't need you or anyone else sticking their nose where it doesn't belong."

Sam lets out a derisive snort at the hostile reaction, reaching for the magazine and forcefully flipping through its pages once more. Leaning back, he mutters his sarcastic remark behind the magazine, "No one's nose but Y/N's, I suppose..." 

Bucky's gaze snaps back to Sam, his expression a mixture of surprise and irritation. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demands, his voice laced with a defensive edge.

Sam lowers the magazine, fixing Bucky with a pointed stare. "Oh, come on, Barnes," he replies, his tone tinged with exasperation. "It's not exactly a secret that you and Y/N have been fucking each other for weeks now. And after you going all Winter Soldier in the club on her birthday..." He trails off, leaving the implication hanging in the air between them.

Bucky's jaw tightens at Sam's blunt remark, a myriad of emotions flashing across his features before he quickly schools his expression into one of guarded neutrality. "That's none of your business," he retorts sharply, his voice colder than he intends.

Sam raises an eyebrow, unperturbed by Bucky's defensive response. "Maybe not, but it's definitely Y/N's business, don't you think?" he counters, his tone calm but firm. "You can't just keep shutting her out like this, Bucky. She deserves better than that. You both do."

Bucky's grip on his coffee cup tightens, the ceramic creaking slightly under the pressure of his fingers. "I'm not shutting her out," he protests, though even he can hear the hollow ring of denial in his own voice.

Sam fixes him with a knowing look, his gaze unwavering. "Then what would you call it?" he asks pointedly. "Because to me, it looks like you're doing everything in your power to push her away."

A heavy silence settles between them, the weight of Sam's words hanging in the air like an unspoken accusation. Bucky struggles to find a response, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and unresolved thoughts.

Finally, he exhales heavily, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he meets Sam's gaze with a weary resignation. "I don't know what I'm doing, Sam," he admits quietly, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. "But I can't seem to stop myself."

The entrance of another person interrupts the conversation between the two friends. Natasha strolls in, and Bucky's gaze drifts past her as if anticipating someone else's arrival. Natasha rolls her eyes at his expectation, proceeding straight to the kitchen area to fix herself a cup of coffee. "She's not with me, Barnes. She's out with Barton," she comments casually, not bothering to glance over at the two men as she fills her cup.

Bucky shoots a glare in Natasha's direction, pointedly ignoring her comment as he finishes the last sips of his coffee. Meanwhile, Sam subtly shifts in his seat to keep his gaze on both Barnes and Natasha. She turns, coffee in hand, and leans against the counter, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "I don't think you'd want to see her anyway... She's still pretty pissed with you," Romanoff remarks, her focus squarely on Bucky as she takes a sip of her drink, subtly indicating her awareness of the barrier that exists between you and Barnes.

His gaze sharpens into a glare as he settles back in his seat, his arms folding across his chest in a defensive stance. "I hate the fact that she tells you fucking everything, Romanoff," Bucky retorts curtly, the frustration evident in his tone, only to be met with Natasha's smirk expanding into a satisfied grin.

"That she certainly does," Natasha quips, her shoulders lifting in a nonchalant shrug, maintaining her position on her side of the room. She appears to thoroughly relish this exchange, as if savoring every moment on your behalf. "It's how I know that you're quite the talker in the bedroom," she adds with a playful lilt, insinuating just how much she's privy to regarding Bucky and you.

Sam's eyes widen in amusement at this revelation, his gaze darting back and forth between Bucky and Natasha. Meanwhile, Bucky lets out a deep exhale through his nose, his eyes rolling in mild exasperation.

"Well, this is certainly enlightening," Sam remarks, unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

Bucky's frustration only seems to grow, his jaw clenching as he struggles to maintain his composure in the face of Natasha's teasing. With a muttered curse under his breath, he pushes himself up from his seat, his coffee cup abandoned on the table.

"I've got better things to do than entertain this nonsense," he mutters, shooting a final glare in Natasha's direction before striding out of the room, leaving Sam and Natasha to exchange amused glances in his wake.

Natasha's smirk widens as Bucky leaves the room; her amusement evident in the glint of her eyes. She takes another sip of her coffee, relishing the moment before turning her attention back to Sam.

"Well, that was entertaining," she comments, a playful spark dancing in her gaze.

Sam chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "You have a way of getting under his skin, Nat," he observes, impressed by her ability to rile up the usually stoic Bucky.

Natasha shrugs nonchalantly, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "What can I say? It's a talent," she quips, her tone light but tinged with satisfaction. "But I'm sure Y/N does a hell of a lot more."

Sam leans back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips. "Well, now that we've thoroughly disrupted Bucky's day, what do you say we go grab some lunch? And you can tell me exactly what is going on between them both." he suggests, eager to move past the tension and enjoy a moment of camaraderie with Natasha.

Natasha nods in agreement, setting her coffee cup down on the counter. "Sounds like a plan," she replies, her grin widening. "Maybe we can even swing by that new Thai place down the street."

With a shared smile, Sam and Natasha rise from their seats and make their way out of the common area, the playful banter between them serves as a welcome distraction from that atmospheric tension in the air, thanks to you and Barnes.

***

"Barnes and Y/N, it's your turn for city duty," Tony declares as the morning meeting nears its end, his words causing a sudden widening of your eyes. You focus intently on Stark, deliberately avoiding even a fleeting glance in Bucky's direction, your mind racing with a mixture of dread and curiosity.

Two weeks have elapsed since your birthday, and during this time, you've resigned yourself to the undeniable truth: you and Barnes are destined for nothing more than an uneasy sense of friendship. Despite your efforts to maintain civility, an unspoken tension lingers between you, a silent agreement to skirt around the events of that pivotal night. It's as though a tacit understanding has been forged between you, a covert pact born from the evolution of your prank war and the subsequent physical interactions that have unfolded between you since that pivotal moment.

"Great..." You mutter a little louder than intended. Bucky's gaze flickers to yours at your muttered response, catching the hint of resignation in your tone. His brow furrows slightly, a silent question lingering in his eyes, but you quickly avert your gaze, pretending to focus on Tony's instructions.

Tony continues, oblivious, or pretending to be, to the tension between you and Bucky. "You'll be patrolling the downtown area today," he says, handing you a folder containing the details of your assignment. "Keep an eye out for any suspicious activity and report back to headquarters if you encounter anything out of the ordinary. And don't forget to stock up at the store, we're running low."

You nod, accepting the folder with a tight-lipped smile, doing your best to maintain a façade of professionalism. Bucky takes his copy of the folder without a word, his expression unreadable as he glances over the contents. 

With a heavy sigh, you steel yourself for the task ahead, knowing that you'll have to put aside your personal feelings for the sake of yet another mission with Barnes. But deep down, you can't shake the nagging feeling that this city duty will be anything but routine, and that the events of the day may force you to confront the lingering emotions that you've been trying so hard to suppress.

As the day wears on, the awkwardness remains, casting a shadow over the routine tasks of city duty. You navigate the streets together, your interactions limited to terse exchanges and awkward silences, both of you seemingly lost in your own thoughts, neither one of you willing this time to confront the other, not like how it was the night of your birthday. 

Eventually, as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, you find yourselves in a grocery store, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over the aisles. Bucky pushes a shopping cart while you walk alongside him, your steps slow and measured as you navigate the crowded aisles.

"Need anything from this aisle?" Bucky's voice breaks through the silence, his tone clipped and business-like.

You startle slightly at the sound of his voice, tearing your gaze away from the shelves to meet his eyes. "Uh, no, I'm good," you reply, your voice coming out a little too quickly, a hint of nervousness creeping into your tone.

Bucky nods curtly, turning his attention back to the shelves as he continues to move down the aisle. The atmosphere between you remains strained, the silence punctuated only by the occasional clatter of items being placed into the cart. You can't shake the feeling that Tony had deliberately orchestrated this pairing, and now, recalling Natasha's smirk during the meeting, you frown, realizing they had both conspired to put you and Bucky in this situation. The roles seemed to have reversed: the pranksters had become the ones being pranked.

"This is fucking stupid." You grumble, your irritation mounting as you find yourself once again entangled in this frustrating situation with Barnes.

"Huh?" Bucky responds, pausing as he leans on the cart, a puzzled expression crossing his face at your abrupt change in mood.

You toss the package of dried goods into the cart and whirl around to face him, your frustration evident as you confront him. "This! I'm not fucking doing this with you again," you retort, your voice pitched loud enough for him to hear your annoyance, yet still discreet enough to avoid drawing attention from others.

A brief clench of his jaw hints at his irritation with your sudden change in demeanor, but he remains outwardly composed, wearing a mask of indifference. His decision to stay silent is a deliberate move, intended to prod you into explaining yourself further. 

You observe his deliberate silence and furrow your brow even deeper, placing your palms firmly on the other side of the cart and leaning forward. "No. Like I said, I'm not going through this with you again," you assert, your voice low and intense. "You want to pretend like you haven't had your fucking cock inside me, then fine, but stop giving me emotional whiplash in the process!" The rawness of your words startles Bucky, his expression betraying his surprise at your unfiltered honesty as he chokes on a slight inhale of breath. 

His jaw tightens at your blunt words, a mix of shock and discomfort flickering across his features before he quickly masks it with that stoic facade. He straightens up, meeting your intense gaze with a guarded expression, his silence speaking volumes.

You can feel the weight of your words, the rawness of your emotions laid bare for him to see. And though part of you regrets the harshness of your tone, another part knows that it needed to be said.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Bucky breaks the silence, his voice low and controlled. "Y/N, I..." he starts, but his words falter, another interruption pausing you both. 

"Y/N!" 

As someone calls out from the other end of the aisle, Bucky's eyes briefly flicker from you to the source of the voice. Following his gaze cautiously, you turn around to see the person heading your way. With a deep exhale, you mutter something incoherent under your breath before plastering a false smile on your face. The smile is reserved for none other than your ex-boyfriend.

You feel a pang of annoyance mixed with a tinge of dread as you recognize the approaching figure. Your ex-boyfriend, striding purposefully towards you with a friendly smile on his face. Despite your attempts to keep the encounter brief and polite, you can't help but feel a sense of discomfort at the timing of his appearance.  

"Hey, Y/N!" He greets you warmly, his eyes flickering briefly to Bucky before returning to you. "Fancy seeing you here."

You force a smile in return, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes at the cliché of the situation. "Hey," you reply, your tone polite but distant. As you observe, you notice your ex slowly recognizing Bucky. Being Avengers in New York means some local fame around here, after all. He says nothing to Barnes, instead opting for a light nod to which Bucky only eyes him carefully, giving away nothing. 

Feeling the awkwardness settle in the air, you clear your throat uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. However, remembering how much Barnes has pissed you off in recent weeks, you smile once more, a slight malevolent smile, turning back to your ex, to start up a friendly conversation.

Despite the discomfort of the situation, you seize the opportunity to engage in conversation with your ex-boyfriend, eager to divert attention away from the tension between you and Bucky.

"So, how have you been?" you ask, your voice light and casual as you try to steer the conversation towards safer topics.

Your ex-boyfriend seems oblivious to the underlying tension, launching into a lively discussion about his recent endeavors and asking about your own life in return. You find yourself slipping into the familiar rhythm of conversation, the awkwardness fading away as you catch up with each other.

Meanwhile, Bucky remains silent, his gaze shifting between you and your ex with a guarded expression. His presence serves as a constant reminder of the unresolved conflict between you, but for now, you choose to ignore it, focusing instead on the conversation at hand.

As your ex-boyfriend continues the conversation, his tone becoming increasingly enthusiastic, he eventually broaches the topic of making plans for the evening.

"So, what are you up to tonight?" he asks, a hopeful look in his eyes. "I was thinking we could grab dinner somewhere and really catch up properly."

Before you can respond, Bucky's presence suddenly looms larger, his expression unreadable as he interjects into the conversation.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Bucky says firmly, his voice laced with an undertone of warning.

Your ex-boyfriend's expression shifts, a hint of confusion crossing his features as he glances between you and Bucky. "Oh, is something going on?" he asks, clearly taken aback by Bucky's sudden intrusion.

You feel a surge of frustration at Bucky's interference, irritated by his attempts to control the situation. Ignoring his warning, you turn back to your ex, a smile playing on your lips.

"No, nothing's going on," you reply, your tone dismissive as you brush off Bucky's concerns. "I'd love to catch up over dinner."

Bucky's jaw tightens at your response, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tries to dissuade you. "Y/N, I really don't think it's a good idea," he insists, his voice now a low warning directed at you, though his gaze remains fixed on your ex.

But you refuse to back down, unwilling to let Bucky dictate your decisions. "I appreciate your concern, Bucky, but I can handle myself," you retort, your voice firm as you stand your ground.

Your ex-boyfriend observes the exchange with growing confusion, clearly puzzled by the tension radiating between you and Bucky. Sensing the palpable awkwardness, he decides to bypass it altogether, opting instead to pull out his cell phone. With a daring challenge directed at Barnes, he suggests, "How about I take your number? I'll come and pick you up later tonight."

As your ex-boyfriend suggests exchanging numbers, a challenge gleaming in his eyes, Bucky's demeanor stiffens even more. His jaw clenches visibly, and you can practically feel the irritability emanating from him as he weighs his response. Bucky's gaze shifts from your ex to you, his expression unreadable but intense. His silence speaks volumes, a silent plea for you to reconsider your decision.

You, however, stand your ground, refusing to yield to Bucky's silent pressure. Despite the discomfort of the situation, you maintain a calm facade, meeting Bucky's gaze with a determined look of your own, if he's not going to do anything about you and him, then so be it.

"I think that's a great idea," you reply to your ex-boyfriend, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'll give you, my number."

With that, you take out your phone and exchange contact information with your ex, ignoring Bucky's simmering frustration. As your ex-boyfriend heads off with a satisfied grin, you turn back to Bucky, steeling yourself for the confrontation that is sure to follow. 

His gaze remains impassive, revealing nothing of his thoughts or emotions. A tense silence settles between you, thick with unspoken tension. Finally, he breaks the silence with a huff of a bitter laugh, his words laced with sarcasm. "Just don't count on me to come and fucking pick you up tonight," he says curtly before striding past you with the shopping cart, leaving behind an atmosphere heavy with unresolved conflict.

Without another word, you watch him disappear around the corner of the aisle, the sound of the shopping cart's wheels fading into the distance. Left alone in the grocery store aisle, you take a moment to collect yourself, steeling your resolve and pushing down the swell of conflicting emotions churning inside you.

"Like you'd even need to bother, if he's picking me up anyway, you idiot," you mutter under your breath in the midst of the aisle, addressing Bucky's remarks despite his absence. With a resigned sigh and a shake of your head, you decide to exit the store. You leave Barnes to complete the shopping and city duty alone.