See Through Scars

by banerising

Summary:

A [mostly] modern Veteran AU of John Walker/Bucky Barnes that is an on going roleplay between myself and a friend. I got permission to post this.

I will say Olivia is villianized just for the sake of the RP/fic. I love her character and she absolutely deserves better.

Chapter 1

With his 4th Medal of Honor, John Walker was honorably discharged from service. His superiors in the Army had congratulated him for achieving so much yet he couldn't think of anything worthwhile. Each medal seemed to mark one of the worst days of his life. The last being the worst as even all of his bravery couldn't save his best friend. He'd hardly walked out of it alive himself. While he recovered at the hospital, he seriously thought it should have been Lamar recovering and not him. Even as Lamar's family visited him and thanked him for even trying to save their son... He just wished he'd done more.

Now that he didn't have to go back overseas... He thought he could focus on his home life with Olivia. Maybe start that family they'd always dreamed of. But his days overseas seemed to haunt him. Noises reminded him of gunfire, explosions and civilians. Walking the streets he thought something might happen at any moment. It was difficult leaving home and Olivia was tired. So the divorce began and just a few months after coming home, he was moving out on his own. It was the first time he was out on his own... He'd joined the military straight out of high school. Had only ever known sleeping in large groups. Laughter and constant banter.

Now there was silence in his 1 bedroom apartment.

John was trying his best every day to get over his fears. Every day he went out for a run or to the gym but didn't have the guts to go at peak hours. And as he's running one morning, he goes by the VA office. He spots signs for support groups. He takes a slip on a whim. Maybe he'd go... Maybe he'd finally interact with a crowd. Who else to better be in a crowd with for the first time than fellow veterans? People who would theoretically get it. Although he dreaded the idea that some of them may have enjoyed their time serving.

Some weeks later, John dresses himself... Then undresses as he'd picked his uniform. Then finally re-dresses into more casual clothes. Jeans, belt and a t-shirt. His hair had grown out a bit... He wonders if he'll fit in this way? Or if the long hair and grown out beard would have people questioning how much of a good soldier he'd been. He swears he was. He had four medals to show for it. But the bravery that got him that far wasn't around anymore.

He walks to the support groups meeting place. First to arrive besides the guy leading it -- Sam Wilson. He shakes his hand, going through the general pleasantries of soldiers meeting. Where they served? How long? Then he finds himself in a seat.

"Not many typically show up." Sam adds as a disclaimer, smiling faintly. "Might just be you and me tonight." He admits.

John isn't sure how he feels about it? But he guesses it's mostly relieved.

So much had happened since he and Steve successfully joined the military back in high school. Both enlisted and being sent out in the same squad had been the best for them, for the Army. They worked best together, their squad becoming their whole family. They eventually got into a battle they couldn't win, and Bucky was left behind. Captured. A secret prisoner of war. He was held for years.

It wasn't until a few years ago he was finally released, brought back to the US with a necrotic disease eating away at his left hand. They removed it. Then they had to remove more and more until all he had left was his shoulder socket joint. And once they removed it, they discharged Bucky and sent him out into the world without any further direction or help.

By now, Steve had found his own life and had been discharged long before Bucky was returned. Steve had gotten himself tangled in another couple, apparently the three of them were happy and one of them happened to have been Tony Stark, who hooked Bucky up with a prosthetic that the military could only DREAM of. He gave instructions and told Bucky to have a yearly check up and to get therapy. Jackass. Steve agreed with his boyfriend, telling Bucky about a VA office that was low key and would be the perfect match.

So. Bucky went once. Him and the man running the support group got into a fist fight, and Bucky hadn't been back since. That is, until Steve threatened him with a psychiatric hold. Which terrified Bucky more than facing Wilson again, or even other military members who were also discharged. Bucky, unkempt with some sweats, a plain black baseball cap and a red hoodie walked into the hall Wilson rented out with Steve, well dressed, in toe. Sam was about to throw them both out, but Steve nudged Bucky a bit hard. "I didn't mean to hit you." It was the best apology Wilson was going to get, Steve also turned his blue eyed puppy stare onto Wilson, and when Steve left the three men alone, Bucky sighed.

"They get me every time too." He grumbled before going and sitting in a chair as far as he could from Walker and Wilson.

Walker was sat at his seat, hands gripped together as he waited for more people to show up. Then he saw Sam get up and walk out. He leans forward, peeking towards the door out to the hall. He could see Sam and two others having some type of exchange. Walker quickly sat back, closing his eyes as he focused on anything but the exchange going on. He could feel the room filling. It was too much. It was way too much noise. He should leave... He didn't really actually need to be here anyways. He could definitely just go out and be among civilians. It was totally... easy.

Sam clears his throat as he sat back down. Both Walker and Bucky a healthy distance away from him and each other. It's so awkward. And yet he knows he won't convince them to get closer on the first session. He knew he was barely going to have luck with Bucky at this point and... He didn't know much about John. He hoped the guy would be more receptive. Maybe he'd open up the little group.

"Alright, guys. This is our group for the night." Sam begins, hands settling on his lap and a smile on his face. "I can... start us off here. I'm Sam Wilson... Air force Veteran. 58th Pararescue Squadron. I been running the DC VA Support Group since I got back home. Helping people like you and me navigate this new world. I'm here to support you all in any shape or capacity." He relaxes back against his seat. "You guys don't need to introduce yourselves or participate... You don't need to do anything... But any participation is appreciated."

There's silence.

John looks up from his hands, towards the stranger then at Sam. He could see the guy pushing with those big doe eyes for him to speak first. John clears his throat, "Uhh yeah... I'll... I want to participate." He says, trying to put his best foot forward. "Um... I'm John... John Walker. 75th Ranger Regiment. Army." He introduces himself. Then follows Sam's gaze over to the other guy.

The stranger was definitely military. He looked vaguely familiar and Bucky felt the urge to want to fight. He always had the urge to fight since he was a POW, he had to fight for his life for every minute while being held captive.

Closing his eyes as Sam introduced himself, Bucky clenched his fists in his hoodie pocket, his leg bouncing a little as silence fell over the little group; he didn't look at either of them while considering his options. Would involuntary psychiatric--before he could finish the thought he knew he would never see the outside world again if he was caught for the involuntary hold. Bucky realized that the stranger was talking, John from army Rangers? Then he realized they're both staring at him, and damn it he had to participate. His jaw clenched and uncleched a few times, before a slow exhale came out of his nose. He really had to do this, to continue to be free.

"James Barnes. 107th. Army." Bucky spoke shortly. He looked away from John and Sam's eyes. "Recently came back stateside." There. He said more than he had the first time he was here, volunteering information that wasn't necessary but God damn he was terrified. Maybe... this wouldn't be too bad.

Sam wanted to clap, but he didn't. He nodded a little, "alright. Good start."

Bucky shifted to sit back in his seat and force his glare to stay on the floor. He wanted to throw chairs, throw his fists, anything to cull this awkward silence.

John looked intently at Barnes as he introduces himself. Like he's absorbing all of that information. He's not the type to forget someone's name or want to be forgetful. He'd met so many civilians while overseas and could remember their names. The memories they shared together. He was able to make them laugh even though they were in a war torn country. He'd even carried hurt civilians to a medical bay, given them company in the middle of their pain... John used to feel so useful and positive. But now? He isn't sure he could do it. Surely he could, right?

"How's it been for you guys... being back?" Sam asked as he tried to keep the conversation going. He knows Bucky may not want to answer but he hopes it might stir something - ideally a voluntary conversation.

John massaged his thumb pad over the knuckle of his other thumb. Tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. He glanced over to the other guy then back at Sam. "Going out in public is hard... I honestly thought about bolting when I heard people coming." He admits. He felt his heart hammering at this admission. The words somewhat rehearsed in his head. He had to prepare for the meeting... Or else he definitely would have bolted.

Bucky leveled his glare briefly on Sam as he asked how it's been for them since coming back, and he feels that itch to fight again. Before he could act in any way, he heard John speak up. He had a tremble too, now that Bucky is looking at him, he admitted that he was scared and that this was a hard adjustment for him. How could it be easy for anyone when you've seen active combat? Bucky looked at the floor, studying the lame linoleum pattern, closing his eyes after a second.

"I... have to... remind myself almost every second that it isn't a fight for my life anymore." Bucky's throat felt tight as he admitted this, as he finally opened up just a little.

"Don't know how much either of you know, but I was held captive." This part was said with more ease, like it was rehearsed and each word was dripping with forced distancing. Bucky looked up, first to Sam briefly but he wanted to see how John reacted to this information.

Sam breathed out a bit - not having realized until then he'd been holding his breath as he awaited their responses. Though at the implication that Sam would share anything private like Bucky's experience overseas. He breathes out a bit, ready to gently remind him this was a session for them and that he, much like a therapist, didn't share things.

But John speaks up first. "Sorry I didn't know. I just got here." He adds at the end, slightly in defense. How would he know a thing? He just got here! But it's a trait that he'd taken up from his marriage. His gaze lingers over James's especially as the other actually looked at him for once. "It's hard enough going out there but... going through what you did... I'd have trust issues too." He says, shrugging his shoulders a bit and looking away.

"But it takes one good step to start coming back from those moments." Sam says before the silence could get too far. He looks at them and smiles gently. "This is a huge step for you guys.. Been through what yall been through and you're here. This is a group you can feel trust in." He takes a little pause but continues. "We meet every Monday at this time. But I'm always right over there." He points just out the hall. "office is there... doors open all the time even on weekends. If you're not feeling a group session, that's why I'm always there."

It isn't long after this that the group session ends. John stands from his seat, taking a step towards Sam to shake his hand. He shakes Sam's hand firmly, thanking him for the time. Then he turns to look at James, head tilting like he was trying to decide whether he was ok with him getting close. Instead he stays put and raises his hand  slightly to wave.

"It was good meeting you."

Bucky watched, waiting, like a hawk for prey. When John speaks up, when he gets defensive, Bucky bristled a little because having someone be defensive made another defensive. Bucky clenched his jaw, then his fists in his hoodie pocket before Sam spoke up as John finished.

Sam tried to insist that this is a place to be safe, and that this is a group meant to be built on trust. He offered to be here, no matter what, or when, and Bucky considered that. He considered the truth of it, the way Sam just sounded sincere in a way that Steve did. Bucky was quiet, as John and Sam spoke, shook hands.

Then John was waving, saying it was good to meet Bucky. He stayed respectful, staying back, offering a wave. Bucky slowly stood up, looking at John for a good long moment, before he turned and left without another word.

The week blurred after that, briefly he called Steve and explained that he was going back, on Monday.

Monday came. He considered not going, but, he wouldn't be honest with himself or Steve if he didn't go back.

Bucky dressed a little nicer, jeans, a clean t-shirt and the same red hoodie. He went back. He was about ten minutes early, even taking a moment to have some coffee. It tasted like shit, but he drank it anyway and sat where he was last time. Bucky's leg jiggled again, so when Sam and John both in, Bucky looked at John. He gave a slight wave, with his right hand, to acknowledge them both, before he's shoving his hands away again.

"Your coffee's shit, Wilson."

John was awkward as he stood there and stared at James. His hand slowly coming to a stop in its wave. Smile fading as well as the guy just turned and left. He watched... listened as his footsteps went down the hall then the door shut. "Right... Great interaction." He mutters then looks at Sam who only politely smiles and shrugs his shoulders. Sam, like a therapist, wouldn't remark on any of that either. Though he might just absorb the gossip and perhaps leave names out of it during a call with his sister. John sighed then wished Sam a good night then left.

The very next day, divorce papers were slapped on a coffee shop table by Olivia's manicured hands. He stared at the red polish then followed her arm up to see her face. She was serious. Bad mood. The type he tried to stay away from. The rest of his week he spent pacing at his kitchen table staring at the papers and pen. Running a little more than usual. Sleeping  a little less. Visiting the grocery store at odd hours to pick up ingredients. He heard baking was good for stress.

And then came Monday.

John was walking in at exactly 7PM with stacks of baked goods. He could rest his chin on the very top box. He pauses  when he saw Bucky and Sam there. Sam looked fresh to arrive as well.

"Well, Buck, I'm in my office all day. Can't say I've tried many places around here, honestly." Sam says with an amused face. Good to hear Bucky saying something more. He looks over at John, walking over to help him with the boxes. "What's all this?" He questions.

"Uh well. Just some breads... cookies... Brownies too." He explains as he lets Sam take half the pile over to the table with the shitty coffee. John started laying everything out, seeing the way Sam sniffed and rubbed his palms together excitedly. He turns to look at James, "Um... There's a place... a couple of blocks down. Ground Up Cafe.. Great coffee." He suggests. He'd drank a few cups while staring at the freshly served divorce papers long after Olivia had left the spot. The workers probably thought he was insane. It was the first time in a while since John had been around people. But he had to let it sink in.

"I could show you or um... Bring some here next time." He suggests then quickly brushes off. He grabs a brownie for himself then a cup of coffee.

Sam was quiet at the suggestion from John to Bucky, though he slowly turned to look at Bucky... His brows lifting as if to suggest he take up the offer.

Bucky looked up to see the giant stack of boxes being held by John, even as Sam says that he's also a shut in and it made Bucky smirk a little. He felt like he won something just now, but he doesn't let it sink in too much as he watched John and Sam put the boxes down.  

Then he realized John was talking to him, offering to go to a place called Ground Up Cafe, apparently it had good coffee. And from the look of the pink boxes, good treats too. Bucky looked at the brownies specifically for a moment, before he looked up to see Sam staring at him with those big ol' eyes that mirrored Steve in too many ways. Bucky looked at John, who was not looking back. It was an attempt. A huge attempt.  

Bucky's mouth went dry, his throat constricted. "Okay." He offered instead of the instinctive no.

It was at this point, Bucky took a moment to actually look at John's entire form. So what if his eyes lingered just a little on that taught butt? SO WHAT?

Bucky then stood and slowly approached the other two men, the table. THE BROWNIES! He was quick to grab a brownie and even another cup of shit coffee before walking away. "Thanks, John, for the goods." Bucky mumbled around his brownie, fuck it had been TOO long since he enjoyed chocolate much less a brownie.

It made him pause before he slowly sat back down a little less rigid. The last time he had brownies that weren't shitty MREs was his mom's.

To shove his emotions down, Bucky quickly devoured his brownie.

John hadn't expected the okay from James. He sort of blinked at his coffee, then looked back to see the guy staring at him. The blond now becoming observant over Bucky's staring. The last time too. Was that a common thing for him? He looks back to his coffee and nodded his head, putting a lid over it. "Uh yeah... cool. Right." He says, trying to be nonchalant. He couldn't remember the last time he went out with friends. The only time he ever went out was with Lemar and... Those days are gone unfortunately. He looks over as Bucky stepped to his side and began to pick at some of his baking. Seeing the way he looked... maybe a little excited? He's not sure. Maybe nice?

"Yeah no problem... If they're any good, I can make more." He says as he also makes his way to his seat.

"Mmm." Sam hums enthusiastically. "I might not let anyone else have these... Gonna pack them up right now to get them to my car." He jokes as he sits in his usual seat. He breathes out, smiling at the guys. A good start to the session... "So you went to a coffee shop, John?"

John froze up, looking up from his coffee... Then quickly back down, nodding his head. "Uh yeah... Yeah I did. I almost forgot that that's even... like a step." He admits.

"What was it like?" Sam asks.

John kept his gaze on his coffee and brownie. Head nodding slowly, body rocking slightly as he tried to play off what he was actually there for... "Didn't realize anyone was around me... Focused on the divorce papers." He finally admits, sighing and looking up from his coffee. Instead raising it to his lips for a sip. It was shitty.

"Oh... Sorry." Sam quickly apologizes. Then his gaze wanders to Bucky to see how his week had gone.

Bucky had gone out once with Steve since getting back and that ended about as badly as it had with meeting Sam the first time. So of course Bucky understood where John was coming from but maybe being in a usually quiet place would be a good idea? After he finished his brownie, John was suggesting that he could make more. Bucky looked impressed, these were good ass brownies. Buuuut he couldn't let John know that just yet.

A new hobby? Baking. Good for John.

Snorting at Sam as he suggested taking all the sweets for himself, Bucky shook his head at the idea and listened as Sam prompted John to talk more. Bucky looked up, not keeping uncomfortable eye contact but to study John as his expression told the story of panic then pain and regret while his mouth moved around the words. Divorce papers. Bucky's eyes dropped to John's hands, studying for the ring indent or ring itself. He heard Sam apologize before the silence fell on the room again, Bucky realized it was his turn to speak. "Didn't do much." Bucky responded after an agonizing long silence. "Learned how to use Uber and Uber Eats." Bucky admitted sheepishly, "never uh, had a chance to learn how to use a smart phone...."

John was grateful when James eventually replied. He anxiously sipped at the coffee, glancing down at the edge of the cup. Then he finally put it down. Focusing himself on his brownie. He paused a bit... Surprised by what he'd managed to make. They weren't bad! He looks over as Bucky talked about Uber and Uber Eats. He laughs and shakes his head a bit. "That's dangerous." He says with an amused smile. His smile is a little lopsided, going higher at his right side. Eyes squinting into the expression. "You'll never leave the house with that thing... I mean you can get food... groceries... like anything."

Sam laughed a little and nodded his head. His left arm crossed over his chest, holding up his right arm at the elbow. His index finger held up his brow. "My sister always facetimes me... You know she's nosy and just wants to see where I'm at." He tells, chatting about his own qualms with technology. Although he was hardly complaining - he loved being nosy about his sister's life too. And his nephews.

This session was a little smoother than the last. John talked a little more although some of it did seem practiced. He had to... made him feel a little less anxious. If he could predict some of the conversation... he wouldn't feel so exposed or unprepared for the situation. And when the session finally ended, came talking to James which he'd also taken a second to rehearse. He walked slightly towards him before he could leave, raising his hand slightly at his side to catch his attention.

"Hey-" He says, to catch his attention. "Um... Coffee? There a day that works for you?" He asks.

Over at the snack table, Sam was preparing the boxes to take home. He actually wasn't kidding about it. He turned slightly, trying to subtly catch the conversation. Peering out of the corner of his eye as if to signal Bucky that he was listening! And he'd certainly nag like a mother if Bucky didn't try to put his best foot forward. Not just because they both knew Steve... But because Sam actually cared about the veterans that came to his sessions.

They all talked.

John warning him it was dangerous about Uber, and yeah Bucky agreed just because it was information he was sharing with a stranger, but because it was so much easier than it was to leave the house.

And FaceTime. He did it with Steve once during the week. He saw how happy Steve Tony and Natasha all were together. It was—weird.

Clearing his throat, he had left it alone and when the session was over, Bucky was actually pulling his phone out to look it over, to consider maybe looking at a local grocery store or something so he didn't have to interact again. He wasn't ready. Why did he agree to go get coffee? Bucky had stood up, seeing John's feet and moving hand back down before he looked up at John. The man was asking when would be a good time.

When would be a good time? Never.

Bucky actually had his back to Sam, but he could feel those eyes on him. He pursed his lips, was this friendly? Was this something because they were both vets or was it because John was interested? Was John hitting on him? Bucky doubted it, yet he found himself speaking.

"Anytime." Bucky finally offered, finally. Might as well take a chance? Despite John having been just recently divorced, maybe the man was... trying to move on?  

Bucky tried not to think about it while he slowly offered his unlocked phone over to John, "here. Text yourself..." Maybe——Bucky can try this. Whatever this was going to be.

John could see the hesitation in him. He's about to open his mouth, offer another week or time. Offer to just bring some coffee here for the whole group. He felt awkward about it now. He seriously can't believe the last time he went out with friends was probably high school. Or it had all come to Lemar coming over. Lemar inviting him out. But John was always the more reserved one out of the three. Yet it was John who lead the group. But it was always them advising or supporting. But this is good.. He was really putting himself out there and trying to become comfortable with people. Other veterans was a good start.

His brows raise in surprise and he takes his phone, "Alright." He begins to swipe through the phone quickly. Adding himself as a contact then texting himself. He could feel the gentle vibration in his pocket. He turned the phone back over to him, leaving it on their text chat. "There I am." He says, staring at their hands a moment before pulling back. He's a little taller than Bucky... It's not exactly uncommon for John to be the tallest in a room.

"Maybe Wednesday... I'll text you." He gives him the approximate day so he could prepare - so they both could... A good day buffer between now and then. John starts to step away. "Have a nice night, I'll see ya then." He turns and leaves.

Sam looks over, waiting until he hears the door to the VA office shut. "Seems like a good guy, Buck." He calls. He grabs a box of the brownies and brings it over to Bucky, holding it out for him to take with him. "See ya next week." He says before stepping away. Though he somewhat suspected the guy might visit his office. Or maybe he was thinking hopeful about Bucky's confidence in him.  

When Tuesday night came around, John picked up his phone and stared at his chat with Bucky. He tapped sentence after sentence, deleting it each time then starting over. Until he finally settled on; "Hey. Still up for tomorrow? I can pick you up and we can walk." He sends it off.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Sometimes anxiety gets the best of you.

It had been Bucky who tired to get Steve to go out often too, but after all he went through? Bucky wasn't sure if he could ever just be in public again.  

Watching John's hands as he went through the smart phone with ease, even typing with ease, Bucky felt a mild sense of jealousy trickle down his spine. He waited until he received the phone back to look at the text. Bucky considered deleting it right then and there, but he didn't. He pressed the sleep button, put the phone in his pocket as John offered Wednesday as a day to meet up.

Giving them a buffer day to prepare for the meet up. A coffee date. Outing! Not a date! He wasn't sure John was probably even ready for that kind of thing if he was so freshly divorced.

"Night." Bucky offered as John left. Bucky was just about to fiddle with his phone when Sam was talking to him, offering the brownies box. "Surprised you're letting anything go." Bucky poked, teasing a little, but took the box anyway. He was left alone with John and Sam's words for a moment, before Bucky left the VA office and walked home.

That night, Bucky actually managed to sleep. He had another brownie and even some whole milk to go with it and he fell asleep on his couch without a knife or a gun near by and he didn't have as many nightmares as usual. He was able to actually get four hours straight of sleep.

Tuesday morning was spent eating another brownie, and an intense workout to clear his mind of the nightmares.

Tuesday afternoon, Bucky found himself in Wilson's office. He didn't talk, not for a long time, he just--needed to be near someone and Steve wasn't in DC. And Steve couldn't be his stone anymore. Steve was happy with someone--two someones--else.

Steve deserved to have his peace. It wasn't until Sam said 'you do too.' that Bucky even realized he was speaking out loud.

Then Bucky left without any other words, with Sam shouting after him. Fear, embarrassment, resentment--it all swirled heavily in him after he left the office and took a long goddamn walk. He walked until his legs ached, and walked even further after that.

It was when he was in some place he didn't recognize when he got the text. Bucky was shaking as he took his phone from his pocket, shaking from fear? From anger? From exhaustion? Probably all of the above.  

He texted back a simple "ok." then followed by an accidental pin of where he was at right now. Bucky stared at the fact that his phone could do that, and that he was stupid enough to share his location RIGHT NOW.

For John, he would see Bucky was Apsen Hills, Maryland. A six hour walk from where the VA office was at.

John began walking to his couch with his dinner in hand. He sits down, setting the pasta bowl on the ottoman. He's about to lean back, pick a show when he very quickly gets a reply text. He pulls his phone out from his pocket and sees the simple ok, followed by a location. He opens the message up completely, blinking at where the pin was dropped. Nearly an hour drive though, he looked at the time... 30 minutes at this time. What was he doing so far away? Why was he sending that?

Was he in danger?

John is off of his couch at that thought. It didn't matter that he barely knew Bucky. It didn't matter that the message didn't ask him for a ride. John just acted. Two weeks ago he had questioned whether he'd ever jump back into action like he would overseas - jumping onto bombs to save civilians or comrades. And without realizing it, the answer was yes. Yes, he would act just as fast as back then. Before he knows it, he's in his car and peeling down the road and onto the highway. He's breaking the speed limit without any care. Glancing to his phone to check where Bucky was and when he was about 10 minutes away; he dropped his own pin to let him know he was nearby.

When he reaches the spot, he parks his car on the side of the road and looks around. He squints when he sees James at a distance then starts to sprint his way. Arms waving in the air to catch his attention.

"Hey-" He half calls, trying not to startle him so late in the night. "B-" He pauses a bit. He'd heard Sam call him Bucky so many times that it stuck in his own head. But he doesn't know him like that, so he cuts himself short. "James." He lands on his name finally.

What did it look like to John that Bucky shared his location? Did it seem like he wanted to be picked up? Did it seem like he needed to be rescued? ... Did he need to be rescued?

Bucky sat with his fist to his forehead for a moment, then he pushed on his eyes with his non-metal hand for a bit, his anger and embarrassment coming to ahead and he beat the ever loving shit out of the half concrete wall with his prosthetic, which definitely was barely holding up with the amount of holes Bucky put into it.

Before he could get further, his exhaustion hit and he sat back against the half wall before sliding down. He found himself--crying. It wasn't the first time since he got back, nor would it be the last.

His shoulder ached vaguely, throbbing in time with his thighs and calves.

It wasn't long before Bucky heard someone shouting hey, before he heard his birth name being called out and John was right there.

Saving him.

He saw Steve for a brief second, it made his heart race and made him want to get up and run, he felt his muscles clench while sitting there, the urge to bolt too strong. But, he didn't. He didn't run as John got closer, and Bucky's head finally fell with his chin nearly tucking against his chest with shame. He felt like a child. "You didn't have to come. It was an accident."

John was beginning to slouch as he got closer. Always knew his height to be a lot in these moments. Remembers how many times he'd help civilians in bad situations and having to totally crouch to get to their level. And despite not being trained in this... He knew enough about what to do. He crouches just short of him - about a foot diagonal of Bucky's own body. He breathed out, some relief flowing into him to see him alive. He just needed to figure out if he was hurt... A difficult task when he was so clammed up.

"I didn't have to... I know." He reassures. "I wanted to." He adds, offering a little smile even if Bucky didn't see. He hums a bit, tilting his head to the side to rest on his own shoulder. Trying to see through the darkness if he could spot blood... cuts... Bruising... "I actually drove here because... I'm starving and wanted a bite to eat." He says slowly, testing the waters a bit. Clearly Bucky didn't want to be a burden, perhaps?  

"I figured... Why not just eat together since you're here too..." He continues.

Lemar used to make fun of him all the time for his lack thereof lying and acting skills. In high school, he'd nearly failed drama... And though John knew anyone could see right through his lying right now. He hoped it was comforting... and at the very least amusing.

"What do you say?" He asks, head still resting on his shoulder.

Feeling John so close made Bucky tense, his calves and butt clenched as he fought the urge to just bolt again. The continued fight was so exhausting, and he looked down at his hands in his lap. It was in that moment, despite it being dark, he could see the low light reflect on some of his prosthetic due to him hitting the cement behind him. His glove was ruined.

Then, John suggested he was hungry. He was studying Bucky, Bucky could tell, and he couldn't stop thinking about Steve and comparing the two. It pissed him off.

Closing his eyes, Bucky considered the option, the idea of having food. His stomach grumbled as if to remind him, he walked six to seven hours without food today. He hasn't eaten today. Bucky cleared his throat as he tried to swallow around the lump forming, "yeah." Bucky found himself agreeing, despite it all. He slowly moved to stand up, "I'm not hurt. Sore, but not hurt," Bucky informed the other man while they both were on their feet and standing. "Pretty hungry, haven't eaten since yesterday." Bucky admitted.

As they walk to John's vehicle, he stopped by the front of it, looking over at John. "You can call me Bucky, you know."

His head slowly straightened as Bucky thought over his response. "Yeah..." He repeats after him, ensuring they were on the same page. And as he stands, John also follows up onto his feet. Even though he's told about not being injured... John still gives him a glance over. Maybe he shouldn't notice now of all times. But Bucky is fit - shredded one might say. And despite his greasy-ish hair, he looked good. He was sure the guy could get a girlfriend easily once he wasn't so afraid to come out. As for John... He's certain his dating days are over. He didn't quite have it in him to meet someone - if knowing someone since elementary didn't withstand... what could?

And perhaps Olivia had managed to convince him that day in the coffee shop that the other side of his bed would never fill. He'd be cursed to sleep alone for the rest of his life.

He starts his way to the car, only stopping when James did. His palm rested over the hood of his car, fingers tapping lightly over the metal. "Roger that." He confirms. He continues to the driver's seat. When Bucky was in, he looked over for a moment then out the front windshield. "figured it was like... a close friend thing." He admits. He reaches for his phone, locked into the mount on the windshield and starts to pick through local restaurants. Trying to find something good and more importantly open.

"Um... So it looks like... We don't have this place in DC... Figured we could try it." He taps the restaurant that was open. "McDonalds." He looks at Bucky with a lopsided smile. His earlier tone now clearly being sarcastic. "I could probably inhale at least 2 quarter pounders... What do you say?" He asks.

Despite Bucky insisting he was fine, he didn't miss John double checking him over and it hit Bucky with such a pang of familiarity that he felt queasy. What the fuck. Why the fuck is this happening to him?

It's like the universe told him, you can't get your best friend, but here's a man who's just enough like him that you'll definitely fall for him the longer you're around him.

The urge to flee hit hard again as he stood by the hood of the car. His hands shoved into his pocket for a moment, while hearing John affirming he can call Bucky by Bucky. They both get into the car, and he hears that John wasn't sure if he could have called Bucky by that because it was reserved for close friends. This made Bucky scoff a bit, pushing the seatbelt in a little rougher than intended. "Wilson and I are not close friends," Bucky informed John with a little bit of venom in his voice, but he looked over as John brought his phone out to look for places.

The joke about McDonalds had Bucky's eyebrows raise, and he looked at John with mild judgement and mostly playful judgement. "Really?" Bucky muttered, then he shook his head with a smile, looking out the window. "Yeah. And it's cheap." Bucky commented, "kind of." He frowned. Man, the economy is fucked now. "McChickens are pretty good," Bucky commented, shifting in his seat, pressing his palms on his thighs.

His head tilts as Bucky gave him a judgmental look, endearing his lopsided smile further. But he turned away as Bucky did and started backing out of the spot, then driving forward. "McChicken guy huh?" He questions, nodding his head a bit. "Yknow Wendys is cheaper... Theyve got those $5 biggie bags... 4 for $4." He reminds him. He's quiet for most of the short drive to McDonalds. A quick 15 minutes... A 15 minutes closer to home too.

John pulled into the parking lot of the McDonalds, slowing beside the building. Despite the time of night, there were still people dining inside. Young teens. The worst of human kind in his humble opinion. His fingers tap on the steering wheel before gripping it tight. He clears his throat and instead presses the accelerator lightly to head in the direction of the drive-thru. He figures Bucky won't mind the decision. He pulls into the drivethru behind about three cars. Theyre close enough to look at the menu as they sit there.

"So uh... What were you doing in Apsen Hills?" He asks, glancing over at him then the menu. He was definitely ordering two quarterpounders... And an apple pie.

"Wendys does have the square burgers." Bucky moved his hands as he spoke to make a square, but shook his head again at the idea of eating there instead of McDonalds. "Add some bacon slices to the McChicken and it's like a chicken BLT." He offered, with a snort, "something I used to do." He looked at the inside of the McDonalds when they get there.

Teenagers.

Bucky felt his regular palm start to sweat at the idea of going into the store itself.

When they go to the drivethru, Bucky relaxed a little in his seat. He was grateful, and glad that John was probably also not a fan of teenagers. Fucking teenagers. Scared the shit out of him.

As they sat behind cars, John decided to poke at why Bucky was there. What could Bucky say? He ran away from Wilson? He ran away from the truth because that's what he really was running from? "Got lost." It wasn't a lie!! Truly it wasn't. It also wasn't the truth.

His stomach clenched a little, and he pushed his hair out of his face a little, hating the itching it was causing. "On purpose." That was more truth than he was expecting to admit, but Bucky looked out the window, unable to look at John or John's expression. He had a feeling it would be pity, and quite frankly, Bucky didn't want to fight in a car right now.

Lost. An interesting response although he hadn't quite considered it was a lie. Up until Bucky had added more to it. He nods his head, lips puckering some in consideration of his own reply. His expression not giving away much. "It's a good thing you know how to use Uber now, huh?" He looks over again, stupid smile on his face again. He turns away again, humming a bit. "Or... have you figured out Google Maps?" He asks and looks over again. "Can guide you like anywhere you want... Foot... driving or bus. Knows which lines to takes. It's actually really impressive." He rambled.

He drives forward, reaching the ordering spot. He gives off his order first then orders a McChicken meal with bacon... then his gaze goes back to Bucky to see if he'd wanted more.

After getting their orders in, John drove forward to first window. Handing over his card then to the next window to collect their food. He brings their food in, setting it in the console between their seats. Mumbling a sorry when his elbow bumped into his. He pulls into a parking spot then starts to split up their food.

"How many people do you think actually go to Sam's sessions?" He wonders aloud as he digs into his bag for fries. He looks at Bucky, eyes all curious and amused.

Uber. Right. He should've thought of that, but it's not like he had time to think of that between sending the pin and John actually picking him up. Bucky probably would have thought of it if he hadn't sent the pin really. Fucking smart phones.

But, it is impressive that Google has evolved so much since he last used it and that there is such an interactive tool too. Map Quest could never.

Accepting just the single McChicken that was ordered for him, Bucky went to grab his wallet when he froze. Where was his wallet? And before he could panic too much about it, John was buying both of their food. Bucky had asked for sprite, shit's tasty okay? He didn't get soda often but Sprite was something he enjoyed quite a bit.

Parked a few minutes later and settling in with the food, Bucky twitched a little when their elbows bumped, wondering if he should apologize too and in the end he didn't. Soon, Bucky was ripping into his BLTmcChicken with a little less grace than he'd ever care to admit. He's always eaten like he belonged in the army, his mama always said and he was inclined to agree. Thankfully, he only bite twice into the sandwich when John started to talk to him.  

"Dunno," Bucky answered, looking back over at John and caught off guard by how just, open the man seemed suddenly. Food can do that. Best way to a man's heart, food or through the ribs. "First time I met him, there were about five people... but haven't seen them sense." Bucky finished his sandwich, feeling more relaxed than he cared to admit. "How long did it take for you to get to go in the first time?" Bucky pressed, mostly curious, trying to draw John in the direction Bucky was thinking. If it was hard for you... Probably was for other vets too.

John stuffed some fries into his mouth. Delighted by the saltiness and warmth that melted in his mouth. He hadn't had McDonalds in forever. That made it taste even better. God... if Olivia could see him right now - She'd just laugh. Say this was exactly what he deserved. It almost made him lose his appetite. The thought affecting him enough that he slows down in his eating. He breathes out a bit, setting the fries aside to take a bite from his burger.

"Five?" He repeated, burger between his teeth. He pulled back and stared in shock. He would not have stayed had there been 4 more people joining them. He's thankful now for the sessions they had. He turned his attention back to his burger. Perhaps that's why Bucky also hadn't seen them since although... He isn't sure when Bucky stopped going out and all. Maybe they'd gone to numerous sessions and Bucky wasn't there. He hums as the question is turned on him. He didn't want that... Didn't want to focus on himself.

"Umm..." He begins. He tilting side to side as he tried to remember exactly. "Almost a year now..." It sounded about right. It'd been 5 or so months when the arguments at home became too much. Itd taken him a month or so for housing. Then a couple more before he was joining the sessions. Another example of John's quick to act attitude... Though he didn't see it as such. In his head, he'd taken too long.

"What about you?" He asks, wanting the conversation steered away from himself.

His sandwich finished faster than he really wanted, Bucky balled the wrapper up as John seemed to just be shocked at how many people Bucky saw there for the first time. Yeah. It was a shock to Bucky too, to see so many people gathered at the vet office but he sort of wished he hadn't known. Bucky steals a fry from John without thinking, and then sits and drinks at his Sprite.

As John admitted he took nearly a year to go to the group, Bucky nodded. He understood. It took years for other people, Steve included.

But, John was asking about Bucky and how long it took him.

He thought about his first time going into Sam's meeting.

"A month," Bucky admitted quietly, clearing his throat as the carbonation of the soda threatened to burn his esophagus. "I got back, and discharged... Steve, he uh, suggested I go see someone." Bucky rested his clear cup on his knee, his metallic hand grasping lightly, just enough to hold the cup. "I hadn't slept in four or five days, and I was... terrified, thinking I needed to see someone too." Bucky looked out the window, "I came in, there were too many people, and I thought one of them was laughing at me. Got into a fist fight with Wilson, and got kicked out."

Bucky looked back at John now, "after that? It's been a year and a half until our first group together." He studied John's profile, his jaw, his nose, the way his stubble just seemed to sit naturally and stubbornly, his hair being loose compared to their meeting yesterday. Bucky clearly caught him at a calm moment. Or something similar.

It made him think about his own appearance, and how he felt so scrunchy and dirty in return. He's going to have to do better. Including his hair--

John raised his brows when Bucky slid his hand over and stole a fry. Just a week ago John was cautious of approaching him. Even yesterday, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to be near him... And now Bucky was choosing to reach over. He's sort of impressed by the progress and some semblance of trust they were sharing. He thinks back to his civilian work - how he'd form that trust in a minute or two before whisking them away. He's glad... He realizes he's still got it in him somewhere deep inside to be helpful. To be good. He eats his food as Bucky recounts his own timeline, he's again impressed that Bucky had gone after just a month... Even if it had ended poorly.

"Pretty brave of you to try after just a month of being home." He compliments him as he'd finished recounting. He was already through one of his quarterpounders.

Shortly after John had finished his second burger, he took their trash and walked to the garbage bin. He threw their stuff out and returned, seeming happy to get them back home. Although he was putting up a strong front... Joh felt himself getting exhausted and anxious. Trying to keep this up to be strong so he could be helpful. So he could get Bucky home safe. He didn't want to intrude and ask him for more of an explanation. Clearly the guy didn't want to explain.

When they get to Bucky, John parks outside. He glances up and down the street then turns to look at the man.

"Still good for tomorrow?" He asks. "I live just a few blocks away... Could walk here then over to the shop." He reminds him of how 'easy' it was supposed to be. Also a reminder for himself.

"Martial Court mandate states I have to seek some therapy." Bucky said tersely, after being called brave for going to seek out the group after a month being back.

Twenty years.

Maybe Steve was right, he should be put away.

They were driving back, and Bucky didn't want to talk anymore. He finished his soda, his fries, and considered rolling out of the  moving vehicle and knowing he would not just live through it, he would do just fine landing and rolling with his prosthetic. Closing his eyes, he imagined how it would go. two or three punches to t he door, then a rip of the seat belt, and he was out. It was a nice fantasy.

Despite the urge to run, to fight, he settled with his stomach being somewhat full. Damn, he missed having slop.  

They get to Bucky's apartment not too much longer after he accepted the fact he was just going to be sticking with John for now. In the car. In group.

Fuck.  

The car stopped and Bucky opened his eyes finally. Shit, did he actually nearly nod off?

Looking up at his apartment, he didn't have the guts to look at John's stupid sincere face. He was too much like Steve it hurt. It hurt so much. "Yeah. See you at 10." Bucky didn't give much leeway to argue, as he unbuckled himself, opened the door and slid out of the car in one smooth movement. He paused before closing the door completely, and bent down to look at John. "Thanks, John," and there was a brief smile. It was genuine! Bucky stood up, with garbage in hand, closing the door to the car and waiting for John to drive off before going inside.

When he got inside, his night was spent with an attempt to actually sleep on his bed.

Surprisingly, he actually got six straight hours without any nightmares.

Fuck.

Bucky woke up around sunrise, went for a run, he even found a local gym and applied for it.

What the fuck was going on with him.  

It was 9 when he got back to his apartment where he started with a hot shower, where his mind wandered a little too far and he quickly made it a cold shower instead.

Shivering as he exited the shower, Bucky dried himself off and found that he owned TWO! Get that, TWO pairs of dark blue jeans! He struggled with a shirt for a little bit before ending on a red long sleeve with a black tee under it.

It was exactly at 10am when he was standing outside of his apartment building, leaning against the wall and looking at his phone with a sucker in his mouth to keep him from talking to anyone, or even craving a cigarette. It's been years since he's had any, but the urge was still there. Creeping into his veins.

He did not wear a hat today, or his beat up hoodie.

John's eyes brighten when Bucky confirmed hanging out tomorrow. Smile forming, eyes scrunching at the corners. "Right on." He says softly. He keeps his body turned toward Bucky, wanting to make sure he got into his home safe. But Buck turns around and thanks him. He freezes up a bit at the smile. First smile he's seen really. It's odd but he's delighted by it. Makes him feel good. "No problem." He replies slowly. He watches Bucky as he stands by, getting the hit and driving off first. When he got home, John spent some time cleaning his apartment. He'd left in a hurry to get Bucky that he'd left food out, pots dirty and ingredients out. And although he wanted to go about his routine and get to bed, he stayed up to tidy up.

Eventually he gets to his routine, into his empty bed and asleep. Early in the morning, he does his own routine. Going out for his usual run by a park that was empty. Taking a lap around his block as well as if making sure it were safe. Then he got back home, ate, showered and dressed. He left his home around 945a, and was arriving just in time. He spotted Bucky exiting his building.

"Hey Bucky." John calls as he approaches. John was dressed in jeans a loose white v-neck that exposed a bit of his chest hair. Then a jean jacket over top. His hair was still damp from his shower, and messily swept back. Not as formal as when he attended the meetings but not as casual as Bucky had seen him last night. He points forwards, "This way." He informs then starts to lead them. As they walk, he's a bit quiet... Keeping an eye out on their surroundings. But after getting down the street, he finally speaks up a bit.  

"How ya feeling?" He asks, remembering Bucky had told him he was sore last night.

There had been people who looked, a lot, because they can always just sense something was off with Bucky, so he was getting used to being looked at. Yet, when he felt John's eyes on him he knew it wasn't just some stranger looking at him. It felt--familiar.

Looking up, he caught those fucking blue eyes that just froze Bucky in place. His own eyes widened for a moment, until he heard John call his name. It felt like an echo, he felt a panic attack coming right for him. Bucky quickly looked away, immediately wishing that he hadn't agreed to this.

Run.

He wanted to run so bad.

Clenching his jaw tightly, he forced himself off the wall, pushing his phone into his pocket and forcing himself to take one step forward, one step closer to John until they start the walk to the cafe. Each step felt like agony.

John spoke up, finally, asking how Bucky was. "Fine." Bucky ground out, lowering his head to keep his eyes mostly on the sidewalk. The v neck? The little peak of chest hair was driving Bucky insane. Was this a date? Was John interested? Did the man even know he was doing this to Bucky?

Jesus. Bucky was acting like a fucking teenager.

"You?" He remembered his manners! He can hear Sam in his head, finally, being nice. Wasn't so hard, now was it? and it did release some of the tension in Bucky's back a little, his shoulders becoming a little more relaxed and his steps becoming less murder walk and more just strides.

"Well that's great." He replies back, smiling faintly. Though at the question back, he looked over at Bucky. He thinks for a moment before nodding his head. "Had a good run this morning... So off to a good start today. Think I'm ready to handle a crowd." His tone is amused, a little sarcastic. Aloud, he didn't mind poking fun at himself. But in reality he was nervous. Nervous for both of them. Who would help them if they both lost it a little? Or would they both be sent to jail or a psychiatric hospital. He's quiet again as they walk, hands shoved into the pockets of his jean jacket. He squeezed his fists tight then unclenched. Focusing on how rough his thumb pads are or the strain of squeezing his fingers tight.

"If the coffee sucks... Not my fault." He adds as a sudden disclaimer, looking over with a warm smile. "Plenty others we could try though."

It isn't very long after that they arrive at the coffee shop... By some miracle, or just perfect timing post-morning rush, the coffee shop was not full. There were about 4 other people sitting for a coffee, pastry and their work laptops. There were about 3 baristas behind the bar, working on cleaning up a bit after having been busy from 6am to about 9am. And as the two men stepped in, one greeted them before bowing their head and continuing to clean. The walls were a deep forest green with shelves decorated with plants. The painted walls had picture frames with rustic mountain photography or watercolor paintings.

John took a look around then at Bucky, brows perking for a moment before he lead them forward. He got to the front of the line, began their order. Ordering himself a medium cold brew and... he eyes the pastries and points towards the croissant. He hadn't tried baking one of those at home. The different layers... it seemed complicated. He wanted more practice at baking before he tried something like this. "Croissant please." He says with a nod. He looks over at Bucky for his own order.

When their orders were in, John walked to a table - furthest from the small amount of people and somewhat close to the entrance of the shop. John held his coffee then took a sip. Cold, bitter like a dark chocolate and not too thick. He hummed, happy with the flavor then looked at Buck. "Better than the VAs office?"

He sounded practiced. Like at group. Bucky couldn't blame the guy, Steve did the same thing.

This made Bucky's ease from earlier slip away like water through his hands. He curled up and hunched over a little again as they get closer to the shop. It was good that there wasn't a rush going on, minimal people including the staff. With the greeting from the barista, Bucky just gave a short half nod, glancing around at everyone in the room until he landed on John's blue eyes.

Those eyes drew him in.  

He was damned.

Going to the counter without responding to the jest of the coffee being bad it wasn't John's fault. He looked over the menu as John ordered, and when John got the croissant, he looked at the display case too. "Blended Irish Creme with chocolate drizzle, and the Chrizo breakfast burrito with some hot sauce packets please." Bucky ordered, and before John could even THINK to pay, Bucky was already handing his card over with his right hand.

After getting their food and drinks, Bucky was sitting with his back to the wall and his eyes on the rest of the room.

He tries the blended drink and it was so fucking good. "Hard to say," Bucky said with a smirk, biting into his food. A little groan escaped his throat before he could stop it, "shit that's good." He muttered, taking another bite and chewing through it, before putting the burrito down on his plate, clearing his throat because it was a good spice.

"Wilson's coffee is goddamn awful, this? Well... can't say it's the best around here, because I haven't had others, but this is good." Bucky relaxed more, kind of forgetting other people were there, and just feeling okay with another person near him.

"Cold brew?" Bucky prompted, gesturing with a nod to John's cup.

His expression slowly brightens as he sees Bucky having a taste of the food and drink. It made him feel like he did something right again. His knee bounces slightly, some excitement showing in the gesture. His lips pucker a bit as Bucky sort of becomes nonchalant about it... Not having had other things to compare it to and such. But he'd take the win. "Well.. We'll have to visit a few more... Really put this to the test." He somewhat jokes along. He has another sip of his cold brew.

"Oh. Hm yeah." He says as he looks down at the cup. He stirs it a bit, ice jiggling around in the liquid. "I run warm... But still need the caffeine... Not that I don't enjoy a hot cup of coffee. But mostly prefer it black or um..." He looks up towards the menu, pointing at a few items. "Espresso... americano... That kind of thing." He explains. He'd bee rambling a bit. His own comfort in Bucky's presence showing much like last night. He clearly had a tendency to go on about any topic. Perhaps that inner blond was showing.

"Sweet tooth?" He asks, pointing to Bucky's drink.

More coffee .... hangouts. They weren't dates. They weren't DATES! They couldn't be because--Well, they just couldn't. John was too fresh from a divorce and he was a man who seemed like he actually had morals and didn't seem like he was the type to rebound.

So, Bucky would just have to suffer. Suffer again and again and again--Bucky closed his eyes, rolling his eyes at himself for being so damned angsty.

"Guess we will, and make sure Wilson gets the best." Bucky had to put a dig in there against Sam to keep himself balanced, to really take a jab at himself for being such a princess about coffee. It's just fucking coffee. All of this was a luxury. Bucky was hit with a hard emotion that was a struggle to understand, he felt his stomach churn a little. He was lost in his head when John was explaining the cold coffee, and Bucky looked up at him to capture a good image of his profile again. Bucky looked, and looked and studied, wishing he had Steve's ability to draw, to capture life as a still.

Then he caught those sharp, kind blue eyes for only a brief moment before John is poking at the type of drink Bucky had. Bucky felt like everything was in slow motion, and before he could try to even answer, his body was moving on its own.

He was up and across the room in a flash, stepping to the bathroom where he closed and locked the door. Thankfully, it was one of those single bathrooms instead of having stalls.

Notes:

It had been really fun writing this chapter out! As a warning the next chapter has hallucinations and flashbacks.

Chapter 3

Summary:

Flashbacks ahead. (no pun intended)

also rankings in the military. i don't understand them. again i mean no disrespect to actual military members.

All of the sweetness he just had, mixing with the heat of the burrito made him nauseous, he felt like he was going to puke or pass out, or both. He started to pace the bathroom as best as he could, running his regular hand through his hair, gasping in slow and deep breaths, trying to regulate his breathing but he felt like he was drowning.

The briefest thought of drowning had him feel the sudden hot water spill on his face.

Bucky's stomach churned hard, and he rushed to the toilet, barely making it in time to throw up all he ate. The burrito, unfortunately, did not taste as good as it had going down. The cold of his blended drink making his throat cold, his mouth tasting of acid and chocolate. He slid down to his knees, resting his forehead on the disgusting yet clean toilet seat.  

Fuck.

FUCK!

Bucky retched again, and again until there was nothing left to come out.

Dizzy with flashbacks, with water and piss and puke and yearning. Bucky let out a pained groan, struggling to fight the tears that blurred his vision. The air grew arid, hot, tasting of sand and memories that refused to leave.

He heard knocking, but it couldn't register. He heard steps, knowing they were going to come again and Bucky moved to rest against the wall, his breathing hitching and he stared at the door. "Fuck off!" Even to him, Bucky's voice sounded like he hadn't had water in days, and it sounded like it hurt to talk but he had to fight. He. Had. To. Survive. 

John's head tilted when Bucky just looked at him in response. Then before he could blink, the guy was moving fast to the back of the shop. "Bucky?" He says softly, slowly rising from his seat. He looks totally confused and is received with equally confused expressions. The baristas and others looking back and forth between John and Bucky. He lingered beside their table for a moment. Fliching when the door slammed shut. It took him a second but he followed after him, pressing his ear against the door as he listened in. Then the sound of hurling. John took a step away to the counter, asking for a cup of ice water.

He makes his way back to the bathroom door, listening again then beginning to knock at the door. His shoulders scrunch at the shout... Though it was awfully muffled and weak. He shifted his weight between left and right foot, deciding what to do. Yet again, he wasn't exactly trained in this kind of thing. He just went on his gut. And his gut was telling him to hang tight... Maybe be a little annoying. Risk a punch to the aforementioned gut.

"Bucky... It's just me." He says, pressing his face close to the door. "You're safe... There isn't any danger." He looks out to the shop as if to double check it. Then he turns back to the door.

"I'm not gonna hurt you... I'm just trying to help." He paused a little, waiting some more. "Like yesterday. Just... let me in."

The heat was so fucking oppressive.

It was almost worse than the torture.

Wetting his lips, he heard someone on the other side of the door. They were insisting, there's no danger. That it's okay. That they weren't going to hurt him.

Bucky's head hit against the tiled wall, which did give him enough of a pause to reset the full on break down. Bucky sat there, for a good minute, counting his limbs, two legs one fake arm and one real arm. He still had a head.

Not only were his lips wet, without chapped lips or a dry tongue or mouth, he felt the salty, hot tears on his face too. God, this was embarrassing. While sitting there, Bucky wished the world would just open up and swallow him. Or even the toilet just somehow suck him in.

Morbid. And gross.

Bucky grimaced at his own thoughts, as he slowly stood up and walked to the toilet to flush it. He sniffed a little, "give me a minute." His throat hurt as he croaked out the words. Bucky took his glove off, washing his hands and throwing the glove away in the trash with the paper towel he used to dry his hands.

Fuck. He ruined his good glove.

Despite not wanting to face John or the other people, Bucky looked down at his hands. Could he punch his way out?

Nah, that was stupid. Grow up, Buck, face them.

Slowly, he walked to the door while he trembled with fear. He caught the tremble as he reached up to the door knob, hesitating, making the fear worse. Bucky inhaled through his nose, he's faced worse. He's been through worse than this. Even if they would all look at him with pity.

Bucky yanked the door open harder than intended, pausing at the sight of John standing there. John was there. He was there. "Can we go?" Bucky asked, before John could say anything.

John continued to stand there, waiting to hear for another proof of life. He opens his mouth to call out for him again but Bucky finally answers. He breathes out and... waits. When the door finally bursts open, he startles back. Half expecting a punch, a shove... But instead they're both just staring at each other. John fidgets, holding the cup up slightly. Mouth opening but Buck beats him to the punch.

"Uh... Yeah, yeah of course." He replies quickly. "My um... My place is closer if you want. Or the car is parked out by mine. Could drive you back." He begins to ramble, stepping aside so Bucky could come out. His eyes catching the glint of the metal arm. Shiny. He won't ask about it - assumes why he has a prosthetic but... It was cool looking. He starts to lead them out but then turns to hold out the cup of ice water for him.

"It'll help you feel better." He adds, waits for him to take it then turns to lead them out. 

John walks through the shop, dropping a quick apology to the baristas. He opens the door for Bucky then steps out behind him. He takes a few steps before he dares to do something... Something that could get him hurt. He reaches and grabs Bucky's 'real' arm by the elbow. He stops him from going any further and tries turning him. "Bucky- You have to tell me what you want." He 'asks'... This whole time assuming what could help but... He was realizing he really didn't know. And maybe Bucky didn't know either but he was trying to understand.

For the most part, Bucky sort of wished he could get a trophy or some stupid shit for not blowing up when that's all he felt like he could do. Or for the fact he didn't look at anyone else when he opened that door. He didn't see their pity.

But John didn't have pity. He had those big ol' blues on him with understanding and concern and maybe fear. Bucky couldn't stand it.  

He was about to bitch at the fact that they weren't acting fast enough when John shoved ice water into his hand. Bucky took it, and just tossed it back like a frat boy downing shitty beer and tossed the empty cup with precision. He walked out quickly after that, a bit sad he wasn't going to be able to finish his drink, yet he found himself not caring enough to turn around and walk back for it.

No. They were outside now, the air felt stifling and too cold and not cold enough. Maybe he should move north.  

When he's grabbed, Bucky is quick to turn and grasp hard at John's arm in response. His own green eyes wide, wild with pure hatred for the briefist of seconds until he recognized that it was John, safesafesafe, grabbing at his arm. John wanted Bucky to tell him what Bucky wanted. "Your place. You said so." Bucky's throat constricted around the words, letting go of John's arm, letting go of the anchor.

"Please." There's a little desperation in his voice, a tremble there.

John held firm in his spot when Bucky turned and grabbed his arm hard. He swallowed a bit, waiting for the blow. Could see it in his eyes that he wanted to act. But... Then he doesn't. He just stays within his hold and replies. It's not exactly the reply he's looking for. Because it'd still been his own plan. But at the desperate plead... He couldn't say no or insistent. Not right now. Maybe some other time if he didn't totally fuck up their brand new friendship.

"Copy that." He confirms then using his grip on Buck's arm, he guides him to the right then starts the walk home. His hand eventually dropping from Bucky's elbow and getting one step ahead to lead them.

John had been right. It was a short walk. They passed a few other shops - soaps, thrifting and the like. Couple of restaurants that sold a variety of different flavors. The corner store, John makes a left there and two buildings later... He's pulling out keys. He steps up to one of the buildings, opens it up and leads Bucky in. A short elevator ride later to the 4th floor, 3 doors down and they've arrived to 408. Opening it up, he lets Bucky go in first.

The apartment smelled of fresh baked goods. A scent that John had gotten so used to already that he didn't realize the comfort of the scent. There weren't pictures or that type of decor anywhere. Nor a mirror to be seen in the entrance hallway. Just a coat rack. The living room had dark brown couches, a big tv hanging on the wall. The kitchen was clean though there was a plate set on the table with cookies. A hall leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. It was plain... Hardly lived in. Because that was true - John didn't have a single bit of decor. It'd all been kept by Olivia. John had to start fresh. It took him a while to even get this far with the apartment.

John shuts the door behind them, careful not to slam it or make a loud noise. He breathes out, shoulders slumping as he enters his safe space. He turns and observes the other soldier.

"Bucky?" He questions, like he might have lost him on the way.

It was what Bucky wanted. Needed even. It was wrong, to force himself into John's personal space like this, but Bucky wasn't sure what was going to happen if he didn't go somewhere with someone else and John was now officially closer than Steve ever could be.

Bucky was terrified. He couldn't believe he was doing this. What was wrong with him?

When John started to lead them ahead, he kept a hold of Bucky's arm for longer than necessary, and when the connection broke, Bucky mourned the loss with a tilt of his head to focus on John's legs and feet to keep pace with him, behind him after John took an actual lead. John's hands were different than Steve's. Close in size, but John didn't have quite as long fingers as Steve did.

They were suddenly in the elevator, Bucky remained quiet. There was no elevator music at least.

His own hands came to rest in front of him, standing like a soldier as he raised to his full height and he walked behind John with purpose. He finally felt like there was a small purpose he had, even if it was to invade. That's what he was, right? An American soldier, and that's why he became a captive. Because he had to invade.

A new fear irrationally hit him. What if he was going to be held here against his will?

The door opened, and the smell of cookies and baking hit him hard. All of his worries melted away slowly while he slowly walked into the apartment.

Of course he looked around, and he was impressed that the apartment was so filled out with the items that had been there. No decorations. Who needed them? That was shit for people who didn't serve. But the couch seemed comfortable, barely touched, must be new. The TV was at a good angle for sitting, or even standing.

Bucky felt the urge to walk to the table to get the cookies, they looked delicious. He went to step forward, until he was addressed by John. The tentative voice, concern and worry laced in such a single word fucked Bucky up more than he was willing to admit.

Why did the universe fuck with him so badly? Give him someone who was just like Steve because he couldn't have Steve? It wasn't fair to John in the least bit.  

Bucky looked over at John, the wetness long dried from his tears and making his face itch. His lips pursed, forcing Bucky to hide the tremble. Bucky dropped his eyes, to John's own lips for a moment, and it wasn't until he was moving that he realized what his body was acting upon that he stopped himself.

He was in John's personal space, moving to crowd him against the wall and his head was tilted up, his metal arm pressed against the wall, and he could feel John's body heat through his clothes, their chests just barely touching. Bucky trembled, anticipating anything, SOMETHING to happen. What the fuck was he doing?  

He had stopped himself, just in time, to not actually kiss John. Thankfully. But he was so close. He parted his lips, wanting to feel a ghost of a kiss, something, before he closed his jaw, clenching hard enough to cause his teeth to ache. Then, he stepped back completely, crossing his arms over his chest while he backed up further, barely missing hitting anything until he was against the wall opposite of John. He hesitated, silent for longer than he wanted, until he was able to speak, weakly. "Can I have a cookie?" He felt so small asking like that. After his actions.

Despite his fear, his worry, Bucky had kept looking at John from across the room. What was John going to do?

Just as soon as he'd spoken his name, Bucky was stomping his way. John had stood his ground until Bucky's chest began to press to his own and he was being backed towards the wall. He doesn't cower or flinch, just moves with him until the wall is stopping him. "Easy, Bucky." He whispers. He holds steady even as he can feel Bucky's breath flutter along his lips. Bucky was close enough to get the hint of his cold brew coffee. His blue eyes held steady on Bucky's as he stood so close. When people asked him what it'd been like to jump on those bombs or put himself in the face of danger; he always said the same thing. It was like walking. Or breathing. It came naturally to him. And just like any danger he'd thrown himself at before, this felt no different in the moment.

This was easy for John.

He was ready to be hit. Ready for the explosion. But it never came. Instead Bucky backed down just as fast as he'd approached. He pushed himself back until he was against the other wall. John only watched him, stayed perfectly still in his spot. His head tilted at the sudden question. His lips parting a little in confusion. Before he shook his head to snap himself out of it. "Yeah... Yeah you can." He looks over to the plate then clears his throat to make his way over as well.  

He marches over to the countertop and unwraps the saran then holds plate out for Bucky.

He watched the other soldier. Observing him. He feels like he's about to ask and do something that would put him in danger again. But he risks it. Although John is tactical and strategic in war... It doesn't carry over for his social skills. He doesn't pick up on the dos and don'ts. That's where Lemar came in. Lemar helped him think through everything. Had even practiced with him on how he'd ask Olivia out on their first date... how to propose to Olivia... Everything. He was a bit lost without him.

"What's going on, Bucky?" He asks as he held the plate out to him.

It felt weird. He made things weird.

John was clearly was fearful. And that's when Bucky realized, John probably didn't even have an attraction to men--Fuck! Bucky's thoughts became frantic, he wanted to run still yet. Maybe if he fought, maybe if he hit hard enough, John would yell and kick him out for good and Bucky could just use that as an excuse to never come back to group.  

Then the idea of being put involuntary had him shrinking a little against the wall. Fuck.

John broke eye contact first, to get the cookies, saying yeah of course Bucky can have one. And he walked over, grabbing the plate. Bucky considered running again. He was left alone by the door, after all. Yet, he doesn't, he simply turned his back to the door to try and solidify he wasn't running to himself. He looked as John held the unwrapped plate out to him, he studied John's face as he came closer to grab a cookie and as he reached for one, John pressed what's wrong, what was Bucky going through. How could he explain it? He's having a crisis, because he's attracted to a straight man and it caused him so much stress he had a fucking flashback about it?

"Had a flashback." Bucky admitted, grabbing a cookie. Then he grabbed a second one, he felt telling partial truth was worth two cookies. "Probably pushed myself too far," Bucky continued a little bit more, hating that this, too, was the truth. Then, he's walking away to the couch to sit down and eat his well earned cookies. "You remind me of him," he said quietly, over one of the cookies, before taking a bite.  

Surprised at how they were good, Bucky made a stifled noise and ate more. "You make these? They're really good."

John's head tilts a bit as Bucky continued to examine him. He seemed so on edge now... John wonders if he's made a worse mistake to bring him to his home. Was it scarier than being in public? Maybe he should have taken him to his apartment instead. But they were here now - there was no use in regrets. After Bucky took a couple, he stood in place. The response made sense to him. He wouldn't pry into it. He hated thinking about those days overseas. But at the very last sentence, John froze.

He fuckin' felt awful.

Forcing the guy to hangout with him when all he saw was his captor. The guy who'd hurt him.

His expression, once a bit bright had noticeably dimmed. His gaze drifting and not wanting to look at Bucky. "Sorry." He apologizes. He turns for a moment before walking the plate over to the ottoman by Bucky. He sets the plate down for him to have more then steps away again. He's searching for a good spot to sit - some place he might not make Bucky uncomfortable. Remembering how he'd grabbed his arm earlier - god, he felt like a damn idiot. That probably triggered him too. Made things worse. Being alone in here with him... He wonders if Sam has other group sessions. He'd go to a different day... Give Bucky his space. He didn't want to set him back.

Even if being in a busier group session would set himself back.

John's too selfless not to put himself at risk though.

He hums as he goes to the kitchen - open floor plan, able to still see one another and converse despite the distance. He starts to get some coffee ready. "Yeah... Um I started baking like... a little over a week ago. I heard it's good for stress. Um... But I'm starting to think it's because you just end up with so much of it.. that you eat it all. And yknow food is comforting." He begins to ramble, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. He sets the water into the coffee maker, pressing the button and listening as it begins to work. "I should probably take up some different hobby or uh... Maybe increase my running distance." He theorizes.  

He finally takes a breath and looks at Bucky, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to force you to be here and hangout with me or whatever if it was triggering." He finally says. Unable to keep his inner thoughts, well, in. He wears his heart on his sleeve, that was for sure.

The second cookie was just as a good as the first, if not better. Bucky was so glad that he had asked to come here because the free baked goods? Fucking amazing.

It wasn't until John said sorry that Bucky realized he fucked up by saying that John was too much like Steve. Of course someone doesn't want to hear that they're like another person, and Bucky just fucking compared one soldier to another too. One that people who knew anything about Bucky or Steve, that there was some sort of twisted hero worship the two had for each other in the sickest of ways.

Bucky clenched his jaw, feeling sick again. Bucky finished the second cookie anyway. He didn't want to waste the sweets if he could help it.

Damn it.

Bucky inhaled a little, before turning to look back as John was moving to make coffee. ”Hope you have some creamer,” Bucky commented lightly, carefully like he was suddenly walking on eggshells.

As John explained he was getting into baking because he heard it was good for stress, Bucky smiled a little with his eyebrows raised in a joking judgement sort of way. ”It's not like you can just bake one cookie, right?” Bucky agreed with the comment about how much you can end up with. He moved to stand, to come closer, the table standing between them. ”Running can only do so much, John,” Bucky warned a little bit, but before he could speak further, John was speaking up again. There was that tone, hurt, pained, and Bucky hated it more than he cared to admit.

The content of the apology confused Bucky, his eyebrows coming down and his lips setting into a heavy frown while he listened. The soldier before him was apologizing and thinking that he set Bucky off. God, what a savior complex.

Just. Like. Steve.

Bucky really needed to stop comparing them, goddamn it! He shook his head, both at his own thoughts and at the man before him, his eyebrows still knitted together while he scoffed a little. “John, there's nothing in this fucking world that could keep me again.” He said quietly, seriously, “I chose to come with you.”

Now he looked up, trying to capture those blue eyes. He wanted the two of them to know that this is where they stood. “I meant you remind me of Steve, John.” Bucky paused because he actually didn't mean to say that out loud, he had intended to explain he's here because he wants to be, but he guessed that his mouth had other ideas than what his brain had prepped to say.

“You're a good guy,” Bucky's voice was tight again, as he slowly worked through his thoughts and words. “And I meant it, I won't be held captive by anyone. Ever again.” Bucky pressed those last two words out harshly, slowly moving around the table to come into John's personal space a little more. He was worried that he was going to push too far, and he might fuck up worse than he had at the front door.

“I'm sorry if being here is messing you up. I can go.” Bucky hoped, prayed!!, that he wouldn't have to go. Not only because he didn't want to be alone, but because he wanted to be here with John.

Bucky was going to have to be very careful, because he could see himself getting addicted to John. To the way John made him feel.

John had followed Bucky over with his gaze as he parked himself across the table from him. His attention becoming a little distracted at the sound of the coffeemaker until he hears his name. His attention snapped right back on Bucky as he explained that John hadn't forced him there or wasn't holding him captive. It's a relief. He really didn't want to remind Bucky of his time being a POW. He nodded his head a bit, making sure to Bucky, that he understood and got it. Although he'd definitely be thinking about it for a bit. He'd worry. John always worried. He missed Lemar in these situations. He'd know exactly what to do and say.

His head tilts at Steve. Was that... the name of his captor? He... again was awfully confused.

He's still again as Buck rounds the table and reaches him. His chin tucking so he could look down at the shorter soldier. Any other person would feel in danger again especially after what happened earlier. John didn't feel any negative type of way... Instead he felt... What was it? Comfort. He found comfort in not having to talk about his issues all the damn time. That his attempt at being normal was accepted even when they both knew things weren't just okay. It was things he couldn't find with Olivia in the end. She wanted John to talk about his time overseas in hopes that one conversation would fix everything. But when it didn't... things got worse.

He hums a bit, snapping out of his head when Bucky apologized. "You're not messing anything up." He replies, simple and to the point. "This is like... the closest thing I've had to a friend in like... forever." He didn't want to leave Lemar out of it... He just didn't want to explain that he'd failed his best friend. That he'd failed and didn't cover him enough. Lemar died because of him.

"Who's Steve?" It blurts out fast, he didn't even have a second to stop himself. But his brows furrow and his eyes squint with his confusion. Head leaning forward just a touch for an explanation.

There was an understanding between them now. Bucky went where he wanted because he could, because he had the freedom to do so and he wouldn't go where he didn't want to go. God, he felt like he was thinking in circles. It wasn't fun and it was definitely something he picked up having been captured for so goddamn long.

Bucky remembered how Steve had commented that Bucky was surprisingly fit still for having been held captive for so long. Swallowing down his thoughts, Bucky tried to focus on the present. His stomach fluttered with another attempt to vomit.

It was that moment he realized that John's head was tilted downward to look at Bucky and they were so close again. He could see John's teeth, his tongue even, when the man's lips parted as he seemed to hesitate with something weighing on his mind. Bucky felt a flash of heat wreck his body in a whole different way than he was expecting, Jesus fucking Christ he was a mess and this was not going to be pretty. Maybe he should leave.

The coffee machine beeped to let the two men know that there was now coffee ready to be consumed.

Despite all of the heat and swirling thoughts, John was reassuring and once again being kind. Those blue eyes were so goddamn disarming, and it made Bucky want to just fall into them. He wanted to fall so bad.

Oh, God.

Yet, John continued as he smiled like nothing was wrong, like he didn't wasn't just as fucked up as Bucky was; he was happy that Bucky was there. He was happy that this, whatever was going on, felt normal in some way. It hit Bucky right then, that John was finding comfort in Bucky just as much as Bucky was finding comfort in John.

They were both so fucked.

“That's sad.” Bucky muttered out loud, not meaning to really.

His thoughts stopped then, although, as John blurted out his question. 'Who's Steve?’

It wasn't often Bucky felt this stunned, but he paused because John really didn't know? Bucky hesitated a second, thinking back to their first group meeting two weeks ago—Jesus was it really just in such a short time?—and he wondered if John had actually seen Steve then.  

“He was, is, my best friend.” Bucky started slowly, once again sounding like he was walking on eggshells. It was for his own mental sake this time and not because he was worried about having accidentally made a faux pa with John.  “He was Captain at the time,” this came out a little more slowly and while he wanted to back away from the conversation, he figured if he was going to be around John a lot more, he should explain who Steve was.

It felt weird, having to explain Steve to someone. Especially another military member, because he just sort of had the assumption everyone knew about Bucky due to his length of being held captive. Well, his mama did say that assuming always made an ass out of you.

”He was also on the team that made the trade for me.” Once again, Bucky's throat felt tight with emotion. The heat of repressed feelings stinging at his eyes and cheeks; yet, despite this, Bucky still didn't back away. For once, he didn't quite feel like running.

Bucky didn't like this realization.

John tilts his head a bit at his answer. He doesn't quite get it. Although he knew barely a thing about social interactions... John knew what having a best friend was like. He knew his best friend since they were literally 6 years old. And... if Lemar had still been around, he knew his best friend would be in therapy with him even if he didn't need it. He wouldn't be triggered to fight his best friend. He's really questioning this Steve guy and what kind of best friend he is. But... he totally wasn't going to question that right now. Maybe another time...

"Okay... That's good to know." He answers. John wants to keep asking more... But the coffeemaker alerts them one last time that it was ready. He turns away and starts to pour each of them a cup of coffee. "I actually... don't use creamers in my coffee but... You're actually in luck. I bought some heavy cream to make chocolate mousse some time this week. So that could work-" He says as he opens the fridge and grabs the brand new carton of heavy cream. He holds it out for Bucky to use in his coffee.

When Bucky was ready to go, John walked him back... Or at least back to his street.

The rest of the week goes by just about normal. John kept himself busy with baking although not everything was a success. However that thought could be ignored as John often wasn't happy unless something was done perfectly. When Monday comes along, John made it to the meeting with some freshly baked cookies. Sam had expressed how happy his family was with the sweets and how other vets enjoyed them too. John felt happy yet embarrassed at the kudos. Like he didn't deserve that much thanks or appreciation for it. Yet when he set the plate down, he waited for Bucky's response. Searching him for the same reactions as every other time. Every session after, he brought something different for them - for Bucky. During that session, John talked about his divorce a bit. He expressed how he appreciated this group because he talked at his own pace about things.

The sessions after that John continued to slowly open up. But every session was becoming harder to attend. He felt like the dam was about to break. He was going to spill about Lemar. He could feel it. And.. he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to admit aloud that he had failed. 

That he's a failure. Those four medals of valor were worthless because his best friend was gone.

Not only was he ashamed of his failure... He was afraid. Afraid he'd lose the little support system he had. Afraid that maybe Bucky wouldn't see him as anything like this Steve guy anymore... Because Steve had saved him - his best friend. And John? John couldn't.  

Failure. Failure. Failure.

Outside of their sessions, John managed to come up with a reason to go out with Bucky. Another coffee shop to try though this time he found one with outdoor seating. Finding perfect hours to go out. Even asking Bucky to go to the corner store for a very quick grocery shopping trip.

Right, John didn't use sweeteners or anything in his coffee. He preferred it black. Bucky was recalling the short conversation they had at the coffee shop. He's given the heavy cream and Bucky decides to pour some into his cup, despite his reservations. After he's done, he just puts the cream away and enjoyed the coffee with John.

It wasn't too much longer after he was done with the coffee he decided that he had overstayed his welcome and John even offered to walk him home. What a fucking gentleman. Bucky accepted the offer, and when they got to the corner of his street, Bucky paused and just said goodbye before heading home.

The rest of the week, Bucky had spent doing better than he wanted to admit. He updated Steve a bit about what he's been doing, and talking about John a bit. He mentioned that John was taking up baking as a hobby and that he was a little worried about gaining weight because he didn't think he'd be able to stay away from the sweets and Steve, the bastard, had joked that Bucky might get a sweets gut instead a beer gut. Bucky had hung up on him at that point, texted a quick goodnight and then it was suddenly Monday.

Group was—good. Bucky opened up a little about what had happened at the coffee shop, and neither of the two men there pushed more about it. It was worth opening up, because he got more cookies and god he fucking loved these cookies more than the ones that John had baked prior. Having the first bite had him relax more, his shoulders slowly slumping, as did his posture and Bucky seemed more receptive for the rest of the session.

He fell into a small pattern, Monday would be group, then Tuesday or Wednesday he and John would find a new coffee shop to go to, or go to the corner store grocery shop together. Things were actually starting to feel like he could somewhat normal. It really helped that John was obsessed with baking and giving Bucky so many sweets each week. What was nice, was John opened up too, which made it easier for Bucky and hell, even Sam.

On the 9th session together, Bucky had gone home and was greeted by Steve. Steve had come to visit Bucky, completely by surprised. But it wasn't just Steve, it was Steve and Natasha.

“Natasha.” Bucky greeted, then looked at Steve, anxious about seeing his best friend in person. Steve looked affronted, “what, no hello to me, Buck? I'm hurt!” Steve played it up, before laughing and just yanking Bucky into a hug like nothing was wrong with his best friend.

Notes:

Don't ask me why I chose to do Natasha/Steve/Tony. I actually kind of hate Tony/Steve but it just felt right for this rp/fic. Anyway. Some tense stuff huh? Can't wait to see what happens next time......

Chapter 4

Summary:

Some tough times ahead. Group gets intense and... Well, it's good.

The three of them stayed up all night, talking and it was about the witching hour when Steve finally brought up John, and Natasha let out a soft 'oooooh' in response. “You talk about him a lot, Buck.” Steve said. What he didn't say was 'are you involved with him?', what he didn't say was 'are you in love?'

Bucky clammed up right about then, told them they can sleep on the bed in his room and then he left to his bathroom.

The rest of the week was a little normal, but Natasha and Steve stayed with him. It was Sunday night, they were all in the kitchen and trying to make a meal when Steve skittishly suggested he'd like to go to the group with Bucky on Monday. It fucked Bucky up, but he didn't want to hide anything from Steve, and he thought maybe Steve wanted to hang out a bit with Sam too. “It's not like I can stop you,” Bucky scrunched his face up, “you're gonna go anyway. I know you Rogers. This is just a courtesy.” To which, Natasha pushed on Steve's arm, laughing at him, “called you out.” And the rest of the night went fairly decent.

Monday morning, Steve was up with Bucky, the two of them went for a run, took turns showering and spent most of the day after that playing card games together, actually allowing Bucky to be a bit lazy with his day. Then, it was time for group.

Bucky waved off Natasha with Steve, and they went to the VA office together. Sam was finished setting up the meeting space with coffee from Ground Up, which made Bucky laugh. It startled all three of them, but Steve laughed in return and things felt a little more stable. Bucky walked over and gave Sam a pat on the shoulder, grabbing his own cup of sweet coffee and headed to sit down.

“John not here yet?” Bucky asked, trying to keep the anxiety and anticipation out of his voice. He hadn't done anything with John during the last week with his guests being there—Sam shook his head no, and moved to sit down. Steve sat between them. “Nah, not yet.”  

Bucky hesitated, “at least you got good coffee this time.”

“You bet your ass I did.” Sam playfully snapped, and it made Bucky roll his eyes.

“It'd be a shame he didn't come, you know,” Steve piped up. “I'd hate to miss having some of those legendary baked goods Bucky won't stop talking about.” This comment had Bucky glaring at his best friend, considering which spot to punch to make Natasha the least angriest at him.

“Oh man, if this guy wasn't made for being a soldier, he sure as hell would've made a great baker.” Sam shook his head a little as he spoke, sounding impressed. Just then, Sam was looking up and speaking to John.  

Bucky looked up sharply to see John, his face becoming a little more relaxed and while he wanted to rush to see those heavenly baked goodies, he didn't leave his seat. He could fee Steve's eyes on his face, and he started to heat up, really regretting that he doesn't wear his beat up cap anymore.

It's their tenth session with Sam. John for once was running late... He had decided to try something totally different for tonight on account of how many sessions they'd completed together. Mini berry brownie pavlova bites. Pavlova was sweet in general but the strawberries, raspberries combined with the layered chocolate cake... He was sure Bucky would like it. And when he tasted how sweet it was... He figured it'd pair well with a bitterly rich coffee. At least for John who needed some balance. All of this caused him to arrive just a few minutes late to the session. And when he got through the doors, he could hear a new voice.

Hesitantly he makes his way to the big room and paused at the frame when he saw Bucky, Sam and some other guy.

"John - was worried you weren't going to make it." Sam called as he saw the blond at the doorway. He grinned big, "Brought goodies, I see. We were just telling Steve how great of a baker you are. You been spoiling us every week." Sam stood from his seat and walked to help John with the coffee container.

John looked towards the blond in the room and smiled, faintly, head tilting to the right. "Steve. Nice to meet you. John Walker... Heard a lot about you." He says as he walks over, extending his hand out.

Being addressed, Steve grinned and stood up as John came to him. He gladly shook hands with the other soldier, “don't believe everything Bucky's told you. I do swear.” Steve said with a warm and open smile, then glancing back at Bucky only to be surprised Bucky wasn't sitting in his seat anymore, and over at the coffee and baked goods table. “I never get used to his speed,” Steve stage whispered to John before he is moving to sit back right next to where he had been before. On Sam's left.

Bucky was eager to see what sweet treat that John had brought this time. He opened the box as Steve was talking to John, and when he saw the pavlova, his eyebrows shot up. “Complicated.” Bucky commented, before taking a few of the mini bites with him on a napkin and going to sit on Steve's left. He waited until he had sat down, to take the first bite, he wanted John to see how much he liked it because he knew John would be looking. Bucky admitted to himself, and only to himself, that he liked how much John watched Bucky for his reaction to the baked goods every week.

The bite he took made him pause. He didn't chew right away, he just let the chocolate melt in his mouth a little, then he chewed. His face tinted pink while he fought back a pleasured groan, it was a perfect blend of chocolate and meringue with the raspberries and strawberries fought the chocolate for taste and it was just too fucking good. Bucky cleared his throat, managing not to cough as he suppressed his noise of pleasure while he swallowed the first bite. “Fuck, that's good.” Bucky managed to get out, sheepishly, as he took the rest of the first mini into his mouth.

He didn't have a chance to get to his second one, as Steve was stealing it and Steve made no qualms about his surprise at how good the pavlova was. “Holy moley, John! That's good!” Steve sounded excited, as he went to finish his bite. “Thank you!”

John shakes Steve's hand firmly, nodding a bit before cracking a smile at the joke. He soon made his way to the usual snack table, dropping off this week's goods. Glancing at Bucky at his comment. He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. John hoped he'd be able to do something more complicated than a brownie at this point. This was their 10th session... which was just about 3 months. And John had had a lot of practice... Plenty of fuck ups and just a few successes. He grabs one for himself along with a hot cup of coffee and makes his way over to the circle of chairs. Although he can't bring himself to sit beside them all. He felt... like the odd man out. He was familiar with Bucky - he'd call him his friend. But Sam was like a therapist so he didn't know much about him and Steve's a stranger. So he sits some chairs away.

"Mm! You outdid yourself." Sam said after his own bite.

John's brows perk at the different reactions before laughing a bit at Steve's. "Thought you did swear." He half teases, he hadn't heard anyone say holy moley since he was about 6 years old. John looks at Bucky again, smiling faintly at his reaction. He's satisfied with it. Felt like he should just call it a good game now and quit while he was up. He sat back in his seat to enjoy his coffee and treat.

Sam hummed as he finished up his own pavlova bite. Licking the tips of his fingers to get any residue off. "Alright... Since we got someone new today-" He smirks a little as he looks at Steve. He'd not normally call out a newcomer... But it was Steve. He knew he was a good sport. "Our structure is pretty loose... Except our first session. That one had just a little structure... How about some introductions." His eyes are sparkling with amusement. It felt silly to take a step back but... refreshing as well. "I'm Sam Wilson... Airforce... 58th Pararescue Squadron... Been home about 5 years now." He kicks them off.

"John Walker... Army, 75th Ranger Regiment... and been home a little over a year now." John starts his introduction right after. Having sat up in his seat for it, taking on the natural soldier posture for a bit. How odd it felt to think that he'd been home for so long now. It didn't feel like a year. Not when he felt like he was still there in his every day.

It wasn't lost on Steve, seeing how Bucky reacted and even seeing how John watched for Bucky's approval. Oh. Steve snuck a glance at Sam with his eyebrows raised, like 'you seeing this?' but things were moving along. Steve laughed at the teasing from John, “I do, I do swear, I promise.” He was grinning a little lopsided, but things took another turn and moved on. Sam was making a spectacle of Steve being here, even if it was only for this session. He made a face at Sam, as the man introduced himself, but sat up and soldiered up when John was speaking. He wanted to give all the respect to the other soldier.

When John was finished introducing himself, he and Bucky both spoke in unison. “Steve Rogers - Bucky Barnes - 107th Infantry Regimen.”

Bucky cleared his throat, looking away and a bit embarrassed at the situation.  

Steve was smiling, “it's been about a year since I was discharged, too,” Steve continued, looking at John for a long time. “I have to say, I'm pretty glad you're here, sir, having someone else take care of Bucky while I'm not able to has been a relief.” Steve leaned forward, his forearms coming to rest on his knees while his eyes dropped to the floor, “I've had the amazing opportunity to have others around me since I retired, and knowing that Bucky has you two? It's just good to know.” Steve looked up to take a moment to look between John and Sam, smiling softly. “I've known Bucky since we were kids,” Steve was starting to explain.

Bucky pursed his lips, straining himself from picking a fight with Steve as the man got all fucking soft about Bucky himself. “Yeah, he's lucky to know me.” Bucky said with a small, playful smirk, “this guy had fucking scarlet fever when we first met. You guys know he's got asthma?” He asked, taking a bit of verbal jabbing at Steve. “I mean, who has scarlet fever anymore?”

“Bucky, language.” Steve chided before he realized and then just immediately dropped his head. Oops, he did the thing. “Anyway! What about you John? You keep in contact with any of your troop?” Steve was quick to dodge the immediate teasing about to come with him chiding Bucky like that, happy to get John to try and talk too and genuinely interested in what the other man has to say.

When Steve stood, John was a little put off guard. He found it odd... As they'd been so casual beforehand with just the other two. He also... hadn't gotten that type of treatment since they honored him with the last medal. Standing and applausing... It was so uncalled for. He didn't want any of that. He ducked his head down a bit to avoid catching anyone's gaze for a moment. Then when both Steve and Buck started speaking, he brought his attention back. Glancing back and forth between them as they spoke. They knew so much about each other... He could see Lemar and himself in them. In some other universe... they'd both be here. They'd be helping each other through the trauma and bad days. Be there on the good days when they felt on top of the world. Teasing each other just like that...

Lemar would bring up that John had failed drama... of all classes to fail in high school - drama. Straight As in everything else though. John had nothing to bring up or tease him about because Lemar was amazing. The best guy he's ever known.  

His gaze had slipped up until he hears his name. The edges of his eyes looked wet, and he clears his throat at the question. "Um... Uh no. No I don't." He answered simply. But when there's silence... no other follow ups, and only an encouraging smile from Sam... He knew he had to go on.

"Lemar Hoskins... he's my best friend since elementary school. Just... the best guy ever. He joined the army with me. He was way better with words than me. For any speeches I had to make, I always ran them by him. Practiced in front of him. When I actually got out in front of the troops, I'd always pick Lemar from the crowd so I wouldn't mess up." He explains with a faint smile, head tilting to the side as he remembered him. "I got four medals of valor... the fourth just before I was discharged. The fourth because I jumped in front of a bomb to save people... And... I still didn't save Lemar." He frowns, keeping his gaze on his coffee. Lemar preferred black coffee.  He wasn't a sweets guy but he did like sour candy. He wonders if he might tease him for this baking stuff.

"A medal of valor for not saving my best friend." He repeats although it seemed more like a thought. "Celebration of the worst day of my life and people just congratulate me for that kind of thing. It's weird." He says more towards them. Though he knew they understood... they were awarded medals and these showy prizes for some of the most horrible things they could experience. why would he want a medal for jumping onto a bomb? Doing something no one should have to do?

He looks up finally. "So... no, no I don't talk to anyone from my troop... I don't want to either." He admits at the very end. He's not sure how Bucky could compare him to his best friend, to Steve... Steve had saved Bucky. John couldn't save Lemar. He glances at Bucky for a moment then away. His knee is bouncing quicker, little waves splashing around in his coffee cup.
  
"We're sorry, John." Sam says softly. And he isn't quite sure what more he could say. It was one of those moments that was hard to breach or ease.

John took a deep breath and shook his head, "No... nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry for dampening the mood." He manages a smile and looks up. But as his gaze rises, he also starts to stand. "I... actually just need a second." He sets his coffee down on his seat then breaks for the exit. He felt like his heart was about ready to burst from his chest. This was embarrassing.. He's a soldier. He shouldn't cry. Worse things had happened to him than speaking... But why was it about to break him? He steps out of the VAs office and turns to the little alleyway. Quickly leaning against the cold brick wall. He closes his eyes, squeezing tight as he tilted his head up for air. Fist clenched tight at his sides.

Bucky gave Steve a sideways glance, trying to determine if his best friend was giving the shovel talk in some weird backward way or if Steve just wanted to be included. By the time he was asking John about his old troop, Bucky decided it was just Steve trying to be Steve. He shifted to look over at John, as he started talking.

Bucky remained still, watching John as he talked about his own best friend, talked about how he got a medal for jumping onto a bomb and it bothered Bucky that he couldn't help but compare Steve to John once again in that regard. Steve did the exact same shit over and over.

But, John's best friend wasn't there. Lemar died in active duty, but not just active duty, he died with his best friend trying to save him.

Everyone was silent when John was done talking, until Sam apologized first. Steve echoed the apology, looking serious and grim and as sincere as ever.

Bucky didn't say anything, he couldn't. He couldn't imagine what John was thinking, or feeling, and hearing that John got a medal for what he felt like not saving his best friend must have been one of the worst things he could feel. A failure to someone he loved. Bucky's face was neutral, carefully neutral, and when John made eye contact with Bucky, Bucky tried to soften his features as best as he could. Just a little. He tried to give John reassurance just as John had given him so many times before.

Steve nodded once, ”take the time you need,” he said as John stood up, apologizing and running from the moment. Steve had turned to face Bucky, to pat him on the shoulder. Bucky was having none of that shit, he smacked Steve's hand and stood up.

Bucky was breathing a little harder, as Steve rose up with Bucky too. The two made eye contact, and the tension between the two sparked like a failing lighter, before Bucky gave Steve a confused, angry glare and headed for the door.

It was a few seconds after John had left that Bucky was outside, with Steve calling after him.

Looking around, Bucky didn't see John anywhere so he started down the street, wondering if the man went for a run when he heard John breathing hard. Bucky stopped at the mouth of the alleyway, focusing on John while the man's head was tilted back, he looked like he was trying not to cry. Bucky knew the feeling.

What was he doing? What was he going to do? There was no way to comfort someone in a situation like this, Sam sort of proved that back in the office, and Bucky just wanted to reassure John that he wasn't a monster or failure. Yet, no words of comfort or reassurance could come out of Bucky's mouth. Instead, he came a little closer to John, putting his hands into his jacket pockets. “Wanna get a drink?” Bucky offered, finally. “Sounds like you could use one.”

John jumped at the sound of Bucky's voice. Eyes opening to look at him with surprise. Recalling how Steve was surprised at how fast and quiet he still moved. John got it now. He huffs out a little laugh then tilted his head back up. "Yeah... yeah a drink sounds good right now." He whispers. The sky was dark, despite a lack of clouds the light pollution in DC wouldn't let him see the stars. He's sure Lemar is somewhere out there, watching over him. He couldn't figure out what he'd say in this situation... But what he does know is that he'd understand. They'd been in tough positions together where neither option was good. This felt like another one of those tough positions - grieving him, not the bar part. Lemar would definitely be kicking him in the ass for not taking up a beer or two right now.

He breathes in one more time then pushes himself off of the wall. He looks at Buck now... Can't help but to feel like a disappointment. He seriously doesn't know how he could ever compare to Steve. He seemed like a really good guy. And John... he could never be that good. It was seriously impossible. "Think there's a few bars couple blocks away..." He nods his head so he could lead them.

John's quiet as they make their way down the street. The air sort of 'tense' between them although it felt like that time in his living room. Where one of them had something to say but couldn't quite get it out yet. An awkward sort of air clearly stemming from John and his slow thinking... Followed by what would eventually be his heart pouring out. It really didn't take long; "Bucky... I really don't know how I could remind you of him." He finally says, fidgeting with his hands in his pockets. "I mean that guy is... He seems good. I'm not-" He shakes his head and laughs. "I'm not anything like that." He looks at him.  

Just then they'd arrived at a bar. John peeked inside, lingering by the door as he tried to decide whether the crowd was too much. But his throat felt so dry that... it didn't matter much who was around them. He'd take a beer or two to go. Easy peasy. He opens the door, waiting for Buck to get through then following closely behind.

Bucky was pretty glad that John agreed to go for a drink. He wasn't sure what would have happened if John said not, maybe they would have fought. That would be the day. Bucky knew it was coming, although, their fight. It was inevitable because Bucky couldn't stop himself from fighting, unfortunately.

Standing still, Bucky waited for John to be ready to take him to the bar near by. It was a place Bucky visited more often than he wanted to admit, but he knew it wouldn't be too busy at this time of day. Bucky watched as John steeled himself, pushing off the wall and coming closer. Bucky didn't back away, he stood still, tilting his head upward to keep eye contact with the other soldier. When John got closer, Bucky offered him a small smile, and gently pat his shoulder before nodding as John suggested they go to the bar not too far away.

He walked side by side with John, managing to make sure they didn't bump shoulders. Bucky knew the importance of not being too stimulated, so he wanted to make sure that he gave John just the right amount of space while trying to reassure him with his own presence, just like John had so many times prior.  

It didn't come as much of a surprise to Bucky when John finally spoke up about his own feelings. It was about Steve, about how he didn't see what Bucky saw in John. John didn't think he was good. Bucky knew that feeling, too.

“You are.” It's all he said, as they get to the door to the bar. “Let's get some beer and shit bar food.” Bucky said with a low smile, walking into the bar when John seemed to have agreed that it was quiet enough for them. He walked inside, giving a lift of his hand as a wave to the bartender, before Bucky headed over to the booth as far back away from the door as possible and gave the best look of the whole floor.

He didn't sit, not yet. “What's your poison, John? You don't seem like a whiskey kind of guy, but I could be wrong.” Bucky teased, with ease and hoped that he could quell any of John's doubts about them being at the bar.

Given what John wanted, Bucky got them each a basic ass bottle of beer and whatever John wanted if he wanted the harder stuff. Bucky, on the other hand, got two whiskey shots for chasers with the beer.

Walking back over, Bucky sat across from John and handed him his drinks. He took his first shot of whiskey, making a face as it burned, before taking a pull from the beer. Bucky finally leveled a look on John, a serious look. “There's a lot of similarities between you and Steve, but you're good too.” Bucky then sat back, slouching against the booth wall. “We don't have to talk about it anymore,” Bucky tossed the suggestion out there, his eyes trailing John's face slowly.

“But, if you want to. I'd like to know about Lemar.”

He hesitated some upon entering - fully expecting to just step up to the bar and sit there. Watch football or something... Sometimes he missed playing football. But if he did it again, it'd be another reminder of Lemar. Honestly, of Liv too. He remembers how she used to sneak into the locker room when it had cleared to wish him good luck. John was certain that that was the reason they won so often. His good luck charm. 4 years of winning the championships, back to back. Go Bears.

But Bucky takes the lead now which John follows to the back booth. He glanced towards the exit like he might forget where it'd gone then sat down. He's about to talk again but Bucky shoots first. He laughs a bit and nods a little. "Yeah... I'm usually a beer guy." He admits. "But I'll have a whiskey." He decides with a nod, "Thanks, Bucky." He watches as Bucky leaves, wondering now why he'd come along. He should've stayed with his best friend and his not so close friend, Sam. He starts to fidget his hands together over the table. Knee beginning to bounce.

That self doubt was really kicking in. It hadn't been this awful in a while... And this time he didn't have Lemar to help him think things through... Realize he was being a total idiot. He only had himself to continue putting him down about it.

He looks up when Bucky gets back, glass of whiskey set in front of him. He looks amused as Bucky takes a shot then is followed by the beer. He has a sip from his whiskey - dry and burning down his throat. Cheap. But cheap is probably the best right now... Although his body would disagree in the morning. He was about to set his glass down when Bucky looked at him as serious as ever. For the first time he's actually made nervous by him... No, it wasn't when Bucky was in his face. Wasn't Bucky telling him to fuck off. No... It was Bucky looking as sincere and serious as ever.

He avoids looking at him especially as he talked.

John takes a bigger gulp from his glass. can feel the large rounded ice touch his lip from how much he'd tipped the glass. He sets it back down with a little shake of his head. When he brings up Lemar, he goes blank. Does John want to talk about it? He swirls the ice in the glass for a second before he nods his head.

He starts to tell Bucky about how they met. Elementary school which just a few days after starting, they found out they lived a few houses down from each other. Olivia, his ex-wife, lived within walking distance of them too. They grew up in rural Illinois. Mostly farms and hardly anything fun to do. But they always found something to do. There were still drive-ins and roller skating rinks. Old arcade that became run down by the time they were 10. Lemar had told John about Olivia crush on him. Lemar was a linebacker while John had been the quarterback in their football team. Lemar was the best on defense and John... he acted. He got them the points. They were the perfect team.

Of course as he told Bucky about Lemar, John had pulled out his wallet to pull out pictures. One picture of them as 8 year olds at a pizza party together. Again at 13 at the arcade. Another at 16 when they'd joined ROTC. At 18 when they'd won their 4th state championship in a row. And many more of them overseas in the army. He had a picture from the army. They were in their 20s and had grown into their features a lot more. Though Lemar remained the shorter of the two.

By the time he's gone through the pictures, John had gone through a total of 3 glasses of whiskey. His cheeks and tips of his ears were pink. Eyes a bit glossy. Gestures were loose and he seemed happier.

"I'm sorry... I feel like I've talked too much." He slurs slightly, squinting and resting his head on his palm as he looked at Bucky.

Bucky had hoped he would never know exactly what John was going through, and he felt selfish for it, but the guy lost his best friend in the midst of battle. He couldn't imagine losing Steve, how he would even be able to try to be normal again—yet, here was John, still trying and it was honorable enough. Bucky had a feeling that whoever Lemar was, he wouldn't want John to wallow either.

After having offered to hear about Lemar, Bucky was patient. He was a little afraid he was overstepping, especially when John's face went white and still like that. Bucky exhaled through his nose, trying to relax a little but he was feeling unsure of how the rest of the night was going to go; when John actually started to talk about Lemar, Bucky shifted in his seat to lean forward on his elbows and listened. So much history told in a dark, humid corner of the world.

When it was right, when John gave little laughs, so did Bucky. Not that he was just mirroring the other man, but he genuinely enjoyed everything that was told to him. He would do everything he could to commit this all to memory, to try and hold Lemar in his memories despite never knowing the man himself.

It was weird, also, hearing about John's ex wife in such a light but it seemed like the three of them had been tight together. Looking at the pictures as each one is shared, Bucky stopped himself from touching any of them, but he enjoyed the ability to see John grow up beside Lemar. It was—sweet. Wholesome. It reminded him of how tight he and Steve had been.

At the last picture, the last story, Bucky was a little toasted himself and he was very thankful that neither of them had to drive far. Just a long walk. Oh well, he could have worse company.  

Bucky reached out with his right hand and gave John a pat on the arm a bit awkwardly. “Shut up with that apology,” he insisted slightly, before he shifted back again in his seat, finally finishing the first beer. The alcohol swimming comfortably in his system, while he considered his options. “Why don't we get you home? Before either of us can't walk anymore.” Bucky waited until John was moving to get out of the booth himself. He dropped two $20 bills on the table of the booth, and looped an arm around John's waist to lead him toward the door.

He would have wrapped his arm around John's shoulders, but the bastard was just too tall for that to be any sort of comfortable.

Leading them out of the bar and along the street toward John's place, Bucky was smiling, “I say we walk because Uber's too fucking expensive.” A pause, “oops, language.” Bucky's voice was a bit hushed, before he let out a huff of a laugh. “Can you believe that son of a bitch, telling me to mind my damn mouth?” Bucky shook his head, keeping John close to make sure neither of them fell—or at least, that's what Bucky would say if anyone asked, thankfully no one was asking.

It was nice to feel John's strong, hot body against his own and boy, Bucky regretted thinking that.

They passed Bucky's place, heading to John's instead. And when they got to the apartment building, Bucky kept his hand on John's body while he turned to face the man. His hand resting comfortably on John's hip, and fuck Bucky couldn't believe how close they were suddenly. Oops. He didn't mean to be this close when he went to address John. Then he made the mistake of looking up at John's beautiful blue eyes. They were so sharp, so bright and brilliant. Fuck, Bucky parted his lips a little to say here they were or some stupid shit, but, his words died on the tip of his tongue as his eyes trailed along John's face, stopping at the other man's very pink lips—how could Bucky have not noticed how pink they were before?—and his gaze lingered a bit too long.

Bucky moved, without thinking about the consequences and just leaned in, just enough that their lips ghosted a little. His eyes fluttered a little, before closing and he pressed a kiss right against those pretty pink lips in hopes that John would kiss back.

John laughs as Bucky just so boldly told him to shut up. He can't even argue, only looking at him with a goofy and loose expression. He's the most comfortable now since they'd met. And all it took was a few, too many, drinks. But he follows his suggestion, knowing Bucky to be right... Because as he stands, he feels his long legs wobbling a bit. He has to press his palm flat to the top of the booth to steady himself. He hums softly as the song playing at the bar becomes clearer, Lynyrd Skynyrd. He hums to it as Bucky wraps an arm around his slim waist and starts to walk him. John's arm wraps around Bucky's broad shoulders, with his hand resting over his bicep.

"I'm good with walking." He confirms but then smiles at the chastising about Steve and being correct. "I'm starting to think he doesn't actually swear." He half jokes with him. His hand squeezing Bucky's bicep at this.

They finally arrive to his apartment building. John's arm unwinding from Buck's shoulders so he could dig into his pocket for his keys. Letting Bucky somewhat guide him around as he was distracted. "Are you gonna get home okay?" He asks, squinting as he concentrates on getting his damned keys. The ring caught on a loose string within then finally he gets it free. He looks at Bucky, catching the way he was staring at him. "You can stay... I can take the couch." He offers with worry but the longer he's looking at Bucky, the more familiar his gaze becomes. A look he's received from his wife... ex. His ex-wife. And in a more distant memory - Lemar. Young and a bit oblivious about kissing... And a few other times overseas... John hadn't ever understood it. But he never tried to understand it because he was afraid of what that meant with Olivia.

He totally deserved that divorce.

John is still when Bucky leans in and feels their lips just barely touch. Can smell the mix of whiskey and beer from Bucky. And he's suddenly so thirsty for the taste. Just as Bucky is closing in, John's hand grasps his face to draw him the rest of the way. His fingertips rough and calloused but they're unsurprisngly gentle on Bucky. Feeling his bit of facial hair. His lips press to Bucky's and he kisses back. He's hesitant at first but feeling just how warm Bucky is... The taste of the beer and whiskey. The faintest taste of the pavlova. He sinks in completely, stepping in towards Bucky to be slightly above him with his head tilted upward.

John barely wants to break but he needed to take a breath. And even still he's lingering his lips over Bucky's; letting their lips brush against each other. His eyes slowly open to look at him. Like he's a little lost, uncertain... And it wasn't anything to do with it being Bucky. But because he'd never done this before. He'd only ever known Olivia, and Lemar... He'd never dated anyone besides his ex.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

Oh shit, fuck, goddamn, son of a bitch.

There was a thrum of absolute desire as he felt John's calloused hand grasp his face, Bucky couldn't believe it as John pulled him into the kiss like that. There was a small, tiny part of Bucky that was sad that John hadn't been a little more rough with pulling Bucky in, but that was what John was to his core. A man with a heart of gold and a shit hand dealt to him.

Even though John had pulled him in, even though John was moving them a little to tilt Bucky's head back a little more, Bucky could still feel the slight hesitation and it nearly crushed him entirely. He couldn't focus on it, as John was pressing into him, into the kiss, against him. Both of Bucky's hands are suddenly on John's slim waist as he is moving the two of them, his own back hitting the wall a bit harder than he expected and he liked the slight jostling.

Back willingly against the wall, hands tightly gripping at John's waist and pulling him tight against him, Bucky felt the kiss break. He hated it. Absolutely fucking hated that there was any distance between the two of them right now, as he was growing desperate to keep the kiss up, to rip John bare and be bare in return in all sense of the word.  

The burn of John's stubble was nice, Bucky missed that kind of feeling and he wondered if John liked feeling Bucky's little bit of stubble in return.

Still a breath's away from each other, Bucky also opened his eyes to see John's muddled blue eyes. It was a little hard to focus on both eyes, so he tilted his head back a little, to suddenly rest against the wall and he stared up at John. Bucky saw the uncertainty and it fucking crushed Bucky's hopes.

Suddenly coming to the moment, no longer drunk on John or the alcohol entirely, Bucky's eyes widened a little and he gripped at John's hips and then pushed him back suddenly, not gently either. Bucky stood against the wall, suddenly feeling like prey and predator all at once. “Get home, John,” Bucky's voice was wrecked with need, want, shame, fear.  

Before John could react, Bucky is headed away from him, heading quickly down the street.

Later that night, Bucky's phone would light up with a text from an unknown number. When he would look at it, out of desperate need not to think about what he did tonight, Bucky was sorely mistaken it wouldn't be about John.

In the text was a candid photo of John and Bucky kissing.

”This can't be good.” He muttered to himself.

Fuck.

Notes:

I can't believe they shared their first kiss :)

don't mind that ending bit. it's okay, don't worryyyyyyyy!!!!!

Chapter 5

Summary:

John and Bucky talk about the previous night and John admits the hardest thing he's ever had to admit before. He's an ally.

John's lips part slightly, still close to Bucky, his fingers still pressing through the stubble to touch skin. "You-" He begins but he's being grabbed hard by the hips and being pushed away. He catches himself from falling back, and he feels his heart sinking in his chest. Something was messed up. Oh perhaps Bucky thought he didn't like gay people? He's an ally, of course. He opens his mouth to clear things up but Bucky is practically ordering him inside. His head tilting and he looks like an idiot the more he tries to talk because Bucky manages to get ahead every time.

He's rushing away quickly down the street. John takes a hesitant step forward... Hesitation that he's not too familiar with. He normally just acted. Maybe it's the whiskey. It had him unable to jump into action. "Buck!" He shouts, hoping he might turn around around. Let him finish what he's been trying to say but... He just watches Bucky leave. He's disappointed in himself. But maybe things were meant to turn out that way... They'd both drank a lot even though John felt pretty okay right now. He breathes out, running his hand through his blonde hair and fixing it back.

He lingered by his door before turning to finally put his keys to work. He opens the door and makes his way to the elevator. When he gets to his apartment, he goes about his little routine. Cleaning around although it wasn't like his usual cleaning... He was tired and his mind... Busy. He couldn't help it; he was only thinking about Bucky. Thinking about his lips, the stubble against his own... The way Bucky had back himself into the wall. John's blushing, feeling his stomach tighten at the memory. It's late but he decides to shower although it hardly helped. Eventually though he makes it to bed and manages to fall asleep.

In the early morning, John is waking... Although as the sunlight blares through the thin curtains, he feels his head instantly pulse and throb. Cheap whiskey. He knew he'd pay for that today. He slowly sat up, groaning and holding his head. The same thought he'd fallen asleep to becomes his first thought.

Bucky.

He taps around for his phone only to realize it's not on him. He bolts out of bed, wobbling as he felt it spin. But he rushes out to the living room, cursing when he couldn't find it anywhere. He groans and smacks his forehead. He'd left it at the bar... Maybe the VAs office? He lets out a sigh then goes about getting into his running gear. He'd try both spots then just head over to Bucky's. He had to clear things up between them... That he wasn't like... offended or anything about their kiss. That he totally supported that kind of thing. And that... Okay John wasn't exactly sure about himself. He'd liked kissing him. He'd been a little sad when they didn't hang out last week.

And he didn't know what any of that meant.

But he just wanted to talk about it.  

He just wants to see Bucky.

He heads out, locking the door behind himself and beginning his run. He stops by the VAs office first. Luckily Sam had just arrived and had kept his phone safe in his office. Sam apologized for how the session had gone... Said that he could have navigated it better but he'd wanted to hear more from John. The blond was understanding of it. Explaining he'd gone to the bar with Bucky after then parted ways. He ran to Bucky's apartment building, pausing there as he realized he hadn't been there yet. He jogged in place for a second before stopping and pulling out his phone.

He calls Bucky. One hand resting at his hips as he waited for him to answer.

Most of Bucky's night was spent staring at the photo of him and John kissing. It was caught in such a way that John and Bucky's side profile were mostly present, and there had been something in the foreground that nearly blurred everything else but them. Perfect framing.

Bucky or John had a stalker and this wasn't good.

When morning light started to filter into Bucky's unkempt room, it woke the ex-soldier with a growing migraine. Great. Not only did he really sober up before passing out, but because he didn't stay hydrated enough or some shit, he was suffering the consequences of last night's good time. At least, it was good before Bucky ruined it.

Groaning a little, Bucky sat up, which caused his phone to fall to his lap, causing him to jolt and the phone clattered onto the floor. Bucky didn't try to catch it, but he just watched as it smacked face first onto the floor. Uh oh. Bucky stood up, which was nearly a mistake, but he pushed through it as he crouched down, grabbing his phone. The screen was cracked. “Oops.”

Lightly tossing the phone onto the bed, Bucky rubbed at his face with both of his hands, which caused him to pause just enough to look at his metal arm. Rolling his eyes at himself, Bucky stripped and quickly changed into his sweats and beat up hoodie to take his usual morning run. Leaving his broken phone on his bed while he grabbed his keys and his wallet. Maybe he'd get some good blended coffee.

Gently kicking his toes against his running shoes, Bucky rolled his neck and then grabbed his bottle of water so he could keep some hydration.

Bucky had wanted to leave his phone there, because he didn't want to keep staring at that photo.

Locking up after he left, Bucky walked down the stairs, he pulled his beat up cap out of his hoodie pocket and was just putting it on when he walked out of the building. He looked up, freezing in place as he stared at John. “John?” Bucky asked, a little panicked.

John was standing in place, looking around as he listened to the ringing. He starts to chew on the inside of his cheek. He's always worried... Always worried he's done the wrong thing. That he's failed. And for some reason, he just doesn't want to fail Bucky of all people. He isn't sure why... Maybe because Bucky saw something in him? John... he saw something in him too. Just wasn't sure what it was anymore. Because he didn't know what last night meant. And it was... it was seriously all he could think about. He turns to look up and down the street, wondering if Buck had left for the day. Or maybe he hadn't even woken up yet. It was early...

He turns when he hears the door open and Bucky saying his name. Just then the call goes to voicemail. John smiles, hanging up the call. "I was just calling you." He says and steps towards Bucky. He purses his lips a little... Now that Bucky was in front of him, he's all tied up for words. It's familiar... Wow, actually so familiar. He'd only felt this way when talking in a crowd or... when he was first dating his ex.  

"I'm glad you made it back safe. I was worried about you." He quickly says, finding it the easiest to let out first. He clears his throat a bit. "I was... gonna start my run." He says, squinting his eyes a bit. He's obviously lying. His face is already pink and there's some sweat forming at his temples. "Thought we could run together." He says.  

Though mentally, John was beginning to berate himself. He'd skipped all of the topics he'd actually come here to talk about. But he knew he'd eventually let it all out. He just had to build up to it and maybe hype himself up a little.

"I um." He began, stepping a little closer to Bucky. "I actually wanted to call you last night... But I left my phone at the VAs Office." He tells him. Trying to get himself onto the topic of last night. There he is, slowly building himself to the point. "You left... really fast." He manages.

There was no buffer of time between what had happened last night and now. Sure, Bucky and John both had slept, but that wasn't a real buffer. Bucky had needed time to try and explain to John that last night had to have been a mistake, because what else could it be? There was no way that Bucky and John could work out. Not that Bucky didn't want to try, honestly, but they were too fucked up to really find some kind of relationship, right? Right.

Bucky considered actually bolting once again. It had been eight weeks since he felt this urge. Eight weeks of growing comfortable with another person again and now he fucked it up last night by kissing John.

Despite, maybe even in spite, of Bucky's internal freak-out, John was smiling at him like nothing was wrong. He was hanging his phone up, explaining to Bucky that he was just calling. “Phone died.” Bucky half lied, it was somewhat dead because of the cracked screen. He looked down the street toward the VA office while John and him were quiet for the longest time. Then, John was saying he was glad that Bucky made it back safe, that he was worried. Of course he was. Bucky tucked his lips between his teeth, fighting the urge to bite them until they bled. He couldn't look John in the face, not yet.

John was then explaining he was about to start his morning run, and it hit Bucky. They had been both living in this area, going on runs about the same time and neither of them knew about their morning runs. Ironic. But, John was inviting Bucky to run with him and explaining he was going this way because he had lost his phone last night, or rather left it at the VA. “Sorry you left it there,” Bucky supplied with a nearly empty tone. He was doing everything in his power not to bolt, and to keep running until he couldn't recognize a single person anymore.

“Yeah, I'll run with you.” Bucky looked at John finally, staring at those fucking trap of blue eyes. Instead of answering the statement of Bucky leaving fast last night, Bucky turned to start his morning run. “Think you can keep up?” Maybe if they were actually running, John would be too exhausted and out of breath to keep talking the way he was talking. Bucky could not handle it right now.

John blinks a bit as Bucky turned to start his run, not really responding to any of what he'd said. Right... he needed to get right to the point. He steps to Bucky's side so they could get going. "Mm... Maybe. I can't beat you when you're going for pastries though." He half teases him, smiling as he tries to ease himself into the conversation with the other soldiers. He was trying to remind himself that he somewhat knew bucky now. That... they could talk things out, couldn't they? It really hadn't occurred to him that Bucky was blaming himself for last night. That he thought he'd been the fuck up... John thought it was him. But that's about normal behavior for the self-sacrificing blond.

He's quiet as they start their run. John is able to keep up with Bucky... Training since he was a young teenagers and it showed. That and his years of playing football. However as he's running, it's obvious he's thinking. Thinking about what he could say next. He clears his throat and starts up again; "Thanks for going to the bar with me last night, Buck." He glances over. "It's... nice to have you around yknow? Even though you said a few weeks ago that it's sad or whatever that you're my closest friend now... Which i.." He squints a bit. "I mean, I don't think it's sad. It's actually not. So... I'm glad we hung out last night." He says, brows furrowing again as he was starting to talk himself in a bit of a circle. Panting a little as he kept at Bucky's pace and tried having a conversation at the same time.  

"And..." He huffs out a little more exhausted and grabs Bucky's arm. He digs his heels into the ground to stop them in place just by the entrance of a nearby park. "I'm not a homophobe or anything. I'm an ally. And I just... I'm sorry if I scared you last night. Besides my ex-wife and Lemar, I've never kissed anyone. It's... It's really new. And if I fucked things up... I get it. I do that like... a lot. And I wouldn't want to lose you as a friend." His hand was still lightly holding onto Bucky's elbow, thumb absentmindedly rubbing his bicep. He was still rambling.

"- And I... really wish you hadn't left. Because I kept thinking about you. And I don't know what that means... Because like I said, I've... This is really new to me. Even just a new friend. And so um..."

He squints at Bucky, realizing he'd been going on for a while. And he was starting to get very lost... Very lost in Bucky's darker eyes. The cap shielding them slightly but John is sure he's looked so much, he had them committed to memory.

"Um... I don't regret any of last night." He adds lastly. And he's looking at Bucky as if for confirmation that he'd covered everything. As if Bucky could read his mind and grab the mental checklist he'd made up until the very moment that he'd come out of the apartment.

Rude! Bucky gave John a slightly shocked glare at the teasing comment, “well stop makin' such good shit,” Bucky mumbled but fell silent after that.

They started to have the actual run and it was nice, because Bucky knew he was going to start getting that good burn in his lungs and legs soon enough. And it helped that John was quiet for a long time too.  

Until John wasn't quiet. Fuck. Bucky knew this was coming, the man couldn't hide his feelings for very long and Bucky was hoping they would just have longer to ignore the situation. How can the guy have such good fucking lungs? Bucky wanted to tell him to shut up, to just shut up and let them run, but he doesn't. He just lets John wear himself out.  
Although, what John is saying is a bit hard to hear. John was saying he was glad they were friends, close friends even, that he didn't think it was pathetic to have Bucky as a friend and that was a nice sentiment, but Bucky was pretty sure it wasn't going to last after their first fight. That was coming real soon.

When he's grabbed and John forces them to stop, Bucky stopped and stared down at the offending hand, before looking up at John with a death glare. He was not ready to be touched, despite the fact he was desperately craving John's touch—and even as John talked, his grip loosened and he was rubbing his thumb along Bucky's elbow like it was a comforting measure, and fuck Bucky wanted it to be— Wait what the fuck did John just say?

Bucky stared at the taller man in absolute shock. Did John just say he was an ally? A fucking ally? A FUCKING ALLY? Bucky's mouth was opened in absolute shock, and it was really really hard to pay attention to what the hell else John was saying. Apparently he's not really kissed a lot of people, of course that meant men.

A fucking ally?

Bucky ripped his arm out of John's grip, offended, and he remained silent just as John was saying that he wished Bucky hadn't left, that all of this was new to him and fuck that was fucking depressing to think about. An ally.

His jaw set firmly, he didn't know how to react. He wanted to scream, he wanted to punch, he wanted to run—Bucky looked at the ground, grinding his teeth together as he just felt too fucking overwhelmed by all of this. An ally.

This dumb mother fucker.

Bucky brought his hand up to his face, and rubbed at his face before just letting out a frustrated, deep in your chest shout/scream. It wasn't high pitched in the least bit. Then he just half turned away from John. “Hate to break it to you, Walker, but you're not just a fucking ally.” Bucky snapped, before he's turning to face John again. “Just shut the fuck up until we get back to my apartment.” And then Bucky is starting the run again. He needed the time.

AN ALLY! The fucking audacity of some people. But... John wasn't just some people, he was John, dumb but a heart of gold that he wore on his sleeve. Dumb, stupid idiot, who was fucking hilarious and brave beyond any measure.  

They were about half way through the park for the run when Bucky stopped them again and he just grabbed John's arm to stop him. He used his metal hand to grab at John's hair and just yank him hard into a kiss, no longer able to fight it. It wasn't gentle and curious as it had been last night, no, it was desperate and needy and aggressive.

John frowns a bit at the way Bucky had snatched his arm out from his grip. He opens his mouth to speak some more but Bucky is yelling. Roaring really. The blond looks dumbfounded. He isn't really sure how to react to this and he doesn't really need to because Bucky is in his face again. Saying another confusing thing. "What do-" Then he clamps his mouth shut as he's told to stay quiet until their run was over. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he decides whether he could even do that. Once upon a time ago in the military, he had no issue following orders. But right about now... he was having a hard time doing that.

He follows after Bucky, running at his side. Occasionally... or more than often, looking at Bucky. Almost like he'd silently hoping Bucky would just let him talk. Or maybe that Bucky would say something to him instead. Because he doesn't know what he means by him not being an ally, or more than that. Of course, Bucky never lets up though. So John is foreced to stay silent and just think about what he'd said. Where he could have possibly gone wrong again. Clearly something about the ally bit... Did he not understand what the word meant? He was sure that it  meant being supportive and all of that. Didn't every straight person kiss their best friend? Or probably not. Lemar and John didn't really talk about it often and... They just knew to stay quiet about it.

Was his mom ever homophobic? He starts to wonder if that's why they'd been quiet. Or was it the military? Yeah probably that. But John wasn't that type of military guy. He seriously believed in equal rights and-

He's quite literally ripped from his thoughts when Bucky grabs his arm. He's about certain Bucky has had enough of him. They're about to fight. But John wasn't the type to stand down or be afraid. We're talking about a guy who has jumped in front of bullets and bombs... A fist couldn't hurt as much. He gasps when his hair is grabbed and he's being yanked down to Bucky's level for a kiss. He leans right into it, kissing him in return. His hands rising to grab Bucky's face, body pressing into his to push him towards the nearest tree. Bucky's skin and body felt so hot against his own. He's sweaty but he doesn't mind. John isn't as aggressive but he sure as hell is needy and desperate.

Olivia would totally kill him if she saw him.

He presses against him a little more in need. Their teeth clicking slightly. But it's a little wake up call. Like the sound of pipes during his shower last night. He pulls back a bit, glancing between his eyes. Lips parted and a little red, he wants to say something but Bucky had forbade him talking.

It was really nice to hear John gasp like that, Bucky wanted the man to make more noises like that. He is more than happy that John was eager to kiss back, to grab at Bucky's face and guide them.

His back hits the tree, it makes him wince into the kiss but he can ignore it as he's chasing the taste of sweat and saliva on John's lips to his mouth, their teeth clicking together in the desperation of their kiss. When John pulled away from the kiss, it drove Bucky mad. He wanted to chase the kiss, but he recognized they both needed air a little more than kissing.

Feeling John just slotted against him was perfect, it was right, it felt right. All of this felt right suddenly.  

Then he remembered the text from last night.

Bucky paled a little, and he looked up at John to look at his face, to study what his reaction is. That is when Bucky realized his hat was gone, forgotten in their quick kiss. Bucky smiled a little, because John just looked so pink and he wasn't talking yet, still. Because Bucky told him to shut up until they got to Bucky's apartment. Cute.

”You can talk, John,” Bucky was breathless, but amused as he stared up into those fucking stupid blue eyes.

He had so much he wanted to ask starting with what the hell Bucky meant earlier. Why he was so angry with him. Why that kiss last night had just felt so right. And even now his body pressed against Bucky's, his face in his hands... It was good. But why was Bucky so upset with him? His fingers press through Bucky's short facial hairs to rub over little bits of skin. Press into his cheeks. His throat drying because he could feel Bucky's chest rising and falling against his. His soft breaths... Oh he really hasn't felt this way in so long.

His mind goes completely blank when Bucky says his name. Actually lets him talk now. But John didn't even know what he wanted to say anymore. He was a little lost in Bucky's eyes... The way Bucky actually smiled - not the fake one he's seen him pry a few times. This one... John's shoulders slump and he starts to laugh a little dreamy. His one hand dropping from Bucky's cheek to push back his blond hair. His head shaking as he tries to remember.  

"Umm... uhh-" He laughs again.  Couldn't even make eye contact with him anymore. He's nervous. Obviously. But not the same type of nervous when he'd been talking about his time in the army. It was different, lighthearted and sweet. "I'm... Wow... Completely forgetting everything..." He admits. His brows creasing now and eyes squinting as he actually got frustrated with himself about it.

He looks at Bucky, squinting at him then finally! Aha! "Why.... You said I'm not an ally so what am I then?" He asks. His head tilting, little pieces of hair following the gesture.

John's hands were all over his face, touching and rubbing, exploring. It was driving Bucky insane. He also was struggling to think straight. Ha.

The feeling of John just lightly pinning him against the tree just drove Bucky insane, he wanted to move and pin John to the ground, but he didn't move. He felt suspended in this moment, against the tree as John's blue eyes seemed to glow with his happiness. It was infectious, because Bucky just smiled right back at the other man.

He leaned a little into the hand that remained on his face while John seemed to struggle to find words, it was cute. Bucky adored the way John laughed, it was cute, he was clearly just as messed up about the kissing as Bucky was. “Speechless for once?” Bucky asked, teasing, in a gentle voice. But, John finally managed to ask something he had been curious about it seemed.

Bucky's smile didn't diminish, but he certainly looked a little more tired all of the sudden. Has this man never heard of bisexuality? Bucky's tongue came out to trace the bottom of his own lip, his top lip curling against his teeth and then Bucky let out a huff of a laugh. “Jesus Christ, John,“ he shook his head a little and leaned back against the tree, letting his head drop against it while his eyes wandered up to the sky.  

“Can we get to one of our apartments to talk about this? I'd rather not get caught in public.” Bucky still sounded tired, but there was a hint of amusement there

.John smiled a little bigger, goofy and lopsided, as Bucky laughed. Oh John was totally in another world now. He laughs a little too even though he doesn't know why he's being Jesus Christ'd. "What..." He says softly. He's leaning forward, pressing more firmly against him. He's lowering his head a little, letting his breath tickle against Bucky's jaw. He's about to kiss that spot but paused at his complaining about being caught. Last time he checked, this wasn't illegal! Maybe PDA of this level was a little frowned upon but... It's way too early to be caring about that! He pulls back and nods his head a bit.

"Are we like... senators or something? What do you mean get caught?" He asks.  

Although he doesn't want to let go of his face, he does. He lets his hands drop down to his side. He lingers in place a  bit before turning to lead them towards Bucky's apartment. He gets back into his running form, thinking over kissing him... About all the other things he'd wanted to ask. But he was sort of drawing a blank. He had to put his focus onto the sound of his feet hitting the pavement or the feeling of his arms tight at his sides. If he focused on anything else, he'd just fall behind. He absolutely could not focus on the sound of Bucky's breathing. Or even look at his face! Dangerous territory right there.

Just as they arrive to Bucky's apartment, he finally remembers how angry Bucky had been last night. How angry he'd been just earlier.

"Why were you so angry?" He asks. Though he seemed... anxious to ask this one. There were times that Olivia seemed angry with him. He'd stopped asking her what was wrong because she'd reply the same thing every time; isn't it obvious?. It wasn't obvious, not to him. John was used to being in the military and interacting with people like that. Rough, abrasive, and to the point. If someone was pissed, they'd fight about it or just say it. He couldn't read minds.

Ohhh no, the way John grinned at him like that felt like a shot to his heart. Bucky's throat constricted, he couldn't believe how much of a mess he was becoming, how quickly John unravelled him and how Bucky just felt right about John against him. John was going to start kissing him other places and Bucky panicked a little, his metal hand had moved to gently press against John's chest. And while John was right to think this wasn't illegal, Bucky just didn't want to be too eager to do something more and make it illegal.  

At John's question, he snorted loudly, “no, not senators.” Bucky responded back immediately but John complied. He stopped touching with his hands, but he hadn't exactly stepped away. Their bodies were so deliciously close, and while both were sweaty from the running, Bucky didn't give a single fuck. He wanted them to be sweaty together, he could think of ways to make them stay sweaty—But, John was leading them back to the pathing and Bucky didn't argue.

They started to run again and it really helped clear Bucky's head because John was quiet to focus on his own running it seemed. Bucky gave him one or two side glances, but kept up the pace until they got to his apartment building. Once there, Bucky was panting pretty heavily and holding the wall with his right hand while he was calming his heart rate and breathing down.

John asked why Bucky was angry.

It took Bucky a few seconds to realize that John was meaning from last night, from this morning and Bucky felt that anger rise right back up. He closed his eyes while he fought a scoff back, his lower lip curling inward while his tongue danced along the edge of his lip, before he took out his keys and held the door for John. “Thought I fucked it up for us, whatever we were becoming, John. So yeah, I was pretty angry. And this morning?” Bucky hesitated, but he decided to omit the picture for now. “C'mon,” Bucky gestured with his head to lead John inside.

“Sorry, no elevator.” Bucky was genuine with the apology, but he's got a tiny smirk as if to challenge John to complain. The smirk went away very quickly and Bucky climbed the stairs with John, leading them to the third floor where Bucky got the right key on his set to open 303 for the two of them.

Opening the deadbolt and the knob, he gestured for John to go first before following him in. Closing the door behind himself, Bucky froze for a moment to stare up at John to wonder what he was going to do. “If you're kissing guys, John, you're not just an ally. I'm pretty sure you're bisexual.” Bucky informed him, his tone and expression guarded to see how John was going to react.

—

Standing over Bucky's forgotten hat, he smiled a little to himself. He crouched down, slowly grasping the hat and bringing it closer, looking it over before taking a picture, saving it for now. Instead, he slipped it onto his own head how Bucky had it just a few minutes prior, and then he easily strolls out of the park, whistling to himself.

Notes:

When the ally thing happened, it killed me. You can even see it in my writing as Bucky. Anyway. Don't mind the ending again. It's all fine. No need to worry. Just enjoy the boy kissing!!!

Chapter 6

Summary:

The boys get a bit hot and heavy!

John rested his hands on his hips as he waited for Buck to answer him. Mouth slightly open to catch his breath. He looked a bit amused at the way Bucky was holding the wall to catch his breath. Some little competitive edge in him was certain he may be able to outrun him. Just call it the advantage of being a little taller. Not from speed... He's sure Bucky had him there. But he was thinking stamina... His gaze wanders a bit down his back. Seeing the way his shirt stuck to his muscles. And he found himself in a similar frame of mind as last night. His eyes snap up when Bucky starts to talk and hold the door open for him. "Oh." He says softly at his explanation. And... well, he got that completely. John was afraid he'd fucked things up too last night.

And even now, he's still afraid he'll fuck it up somehow.

He follows him into the building then smirks a little at the apology. "I can keep up." He promises then starts the climb up to the third floor. Often doing the long-legged guy thing of stepping over 2 or 3 steps at a time. Totally annoying. And it's not like Bucky is that short. Short people often complained about it... Lemar was a lot shorter than Bucky. He'd huff and puff about it when John would do it. And John would offer to just carry him up the stairs next time. Or even if they were going up 3 steps, he'd ask Lemar if he needed some help with those.

He feels like Bucky might kill him if he makes the joke though.

Maybe another day.

He steps into Bucky's place, peeking around to get an idea of what Bucky was like at home. What his space would tell him. His lips parted slightly as he observed then quickly turning to look at Buck when he spoke again. His mouth opens just a tiny bit more at the information and he looks away thoughtfully. He always thought Lemar was pretty hot. But he always figured it was in the guy best friend kind of way. And he did like when they'd kissed. But seeing as they never talked about it or... Nothing ever came of it. He just figured they were passing moments. Like, teenagers being teenagers. Or 'hey we almost died. that was pretty scary. let's kiss' or 'we've been away from home for about forever and we could let off some steam'. But if he really thought about it, like right about now, he supposed he'd never heard or seen anyone doing anything like that.

In high school... He never found himself checking out the guys in the locker room. But when he thought about it, there were guys who found that totally offensive and would threaten a fist fight if they saw anyone looking. Which... as the team captain, John had to put that out fast. Having to threaten certain guys back if they didn't take to the calm approach. But the point was that... Maybe that type of language stopped him from looking...

John's quiet for a little while before looking at Bucky. His hands were held together, resting just where the ribs opened up on his stomach. "I guess that makes sense." He confirms, nodding his head a bit. "Guess that... clears some things up." He adds, somewhat referencing all of his confusion from this morning and his rambling. He's still at a loss for words. Like things in his younger years were clicking and he was having tons of 'ah-ha!' moments.

After another bit of quiet, his shoulders slump and he smiles. His eyes scrunching at the corners. "Wanna go out on a date... sometime?" He asks.

Don't you worry about Bucky's stamina John. He'll show you real soon.  

As they climbed the stairs Bucky couldn't believe this asshole took two to three stairs at the time. What a bastard.  

Inside of Bucky's apartment, there were small piles of disarray but overall it was pretty spotless. Much like John's apartment, it was free of any personal touch. Except for a single photo of him and Steve that was framed and it was sitting on the wall just above the dinner table that was a little dirty with some newspapers and a STARKtech tablet sitting on top of the papers.

The picture of Steve and Bucky was one taken clearly before Bucky had been kidnapped for so long, Bucky and Steve looked so young and Steve was definitely not that bulked up as he was in present day. Bucky was grinning while looking at Steve, who was bashful and grinning himself caught mid blink. At least Steve seemed like he wasn't able to take a normal photo right?

On the counter sat a bowl with a spoon, breakfast maybe from this morning or some late night snack.

There was a window open, of which a pure white cat was lazing in.  

Bucky looked at the cat, knowing he can address her later, but he looked over at John now as the man spoke up. Bucky was glad that he was able to help inform John about his own sexuality, and that John didn't want to argue about all of it; Bucky was also glad that John didn't seem to have as much to say. Not that Bucky hated how much John talked, it was just a little overwhelming today. Letting his eyes trail down a little, Bucky caught himself staring at those goddamn pink lips again, as John smiled, as John talked and—asked Bucky out on a proper date.  

“Yeah.” Bucky didn't mean to sound so eager and breathless but goddamn he was really excited that John asked. “Want coffee?” Bucky asked quickly after agreeing, trying not to freak out about the fact he was just asked on a date. Steve was going to give him shit about all of this, he knows it.

Which reminded him, once again, of his phone and the picture from last night. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed, maybe he should tell John to get the hell out and run, far away from Bucky—

Already at the counter, Bucky was moving the bowl into the sink before he was taking off his hoodie, and accidentally his shirt with it, tossing the two onto the back of the clearly thrifted love seat. “No sugars, or cream either, right?” Bucky asked, raising his eyebrows as he half turned to focus on John.

The cat stretched on the window sill, before getting down and heading over to John casually, moving between his legs to demand attention. “Right. That's, uh..” Bucky stared at the cat, realizing too late that he hadn't named her. “Cat.” He finally said lamely. “I haven't really given her a name.” Bucky admitted, his cheeks and ears turning a little pink while he turned away. It was in this moment he realized that his whole chest, his back, his metal arm were all on display to John. Well, it was too late to get his shirt now.

Bucky put the pot on to start making some drip coffee, knowing it tasted like shit but he was too lazy to do anything else lately. In the corner by the fridge, on the counter rested a French Press.

He's certainly excited when Bucky replies so quickly and eagerly. He nods his head quickly, body  bouncing a bit with excitement that he couldn't contain. He follows Bucky over to the kitchen, "Coffee sounds good." He agrees. He stands by the edge of the kitchen, lips puckering and brows rising when Bucky strips off his hoodie and shirt. His expression giving away his... well, 'impressed' expression. "Right." He simply agrees. Though as the white cat wanders its way over to his legs, he grins big. He bends down, extending his index finger out for the cat to sniff and self scratch his face against him.  

"Hi Ms Cat." He says happily. He brings his hand over the cats head then slowly down the back to pat. Having lived in a primarily farm town, he'd been around plenty of herding dogs and farm cats. Working animals who meant business even when it came to humans. Coming to them for food or pets. Although his mom had never bought a cat, they ended up with a barn cat too. He glances up when he hears the coffee machine going off, and finding himself in just about the greatest view. His cheeks still pink from the run but the blush quickly spread to his ears.

He rises back to his full stature and steps further into the kitchen. They had... a couple minutes before that machine was done. And maybe just a little for it to cool down. And John's eyes are so busy looking over Bucky's back again but this time there's no shirt to hide his muscles away from him. He reaches out to Bucky's lower back, runs his fingertips up towards the blades of his shoulders then off to the left towards his metal arm. Touching over the surgical scars that connected it and his body. He's uncertain... Wary about his actions always. Afraid his curious touch might have him running again. He leans down and kisses the edge of the metal arm and his shoulder.

"So... should I expect you to run... every time we kiss?" He asks, half joking. His hands grab Bucky by the hips and turn him around to face him. Though it hardly seemed to be the real point of the question. He was just thinking about kissing him and some more. Bucky had already done half the work for him which... John could debate was some of the fun. His warm hands linger at his hips, thumbs feeling over over the curve from his hips to his stomach. He leans forward and kisses Bucky again. Tucking one leg between Bucky's and pressing his body close. Easily picking up where they'd left off at the park.  

Although he starts off curious and exploring, John so quickly falls into how natural it feels to kiss Bucky. Used to the way his stubble scratches against his cheek. Daring to open his mouth now and taste Bucky better. Barely breaking from his lips only to pant and gasp against him.

It was kind of cute to hear John with the cat. Ms Cat. Fucking ridiculous for the name, but it would have to work for now he supposed. Bucky was shifting his back, trying to pop it a little when he felt John's presence behind him first followed by John's curious, warm, calloused fingers on his back. Bucky froze.

As John traced along Bucky's skin, slowly making his way to Bucky's attached metal arm. His skin felt cool all of the sudden as he broke out into a fearful sweat. He swore he could feel John's fingers on the fake arm, he feels the ghost of lips before they're just actually pressed there and Bucky gripped his hands into tight fists, knowing that John would be able to Bucky's muscles tense in his shoulders and back while he tried not to turn to shove John off of him.

As with everything with John, he seemed to be gentle, almost reverent with the way he moved his lips on Bucky's shoulder. John would feel that the metal is warm, not uncomfortably so, but warmed by the run and the emotion Bucky was feeling.

Hearing John tease him, asking if Bucky was going to run every time they kissed, Bucky opened his mouth tell John to fuck off when he's suddenly turned around by his hips, flipped so that they're face to face and Bucky glared up at John in response to the teasing. He was going to speak again, but Bucky is distracted by John's leg forcing Bucky's own legs apart, forcing him to straddle that strong leg and he couldn't hide it anymore. Bucky was already half hard, despite his warring emotions and having John's hands just linger, just touch and explore was driving Bucky insane.

Grasping the ledge of his counter top, Bucky leaned back against it uncomfortably, doing his damnedest not to just start moving his hips yet. He was a wreck, trembling already, and just growing harder by the nanosecond.

Bucky had his mouth opened once more to try and tell John to fuck off, or slow down or something to get the man to stop touching Bucky like that even though he really didn't want any of that; they were kissing before Bucky could say anything and John's tongue was in his mouth and everything else just didn't matter. His own hesitation shattering as he chased the high of the kiss, moving his right hand to grasp at John's shirt and hold John steady, or maybe himself steady he didn't know.

There had been a few people Bucky had fucked, and been fucked by, and there had been kissing, but nothing felt like this. He felt a spark start in his gut, shooting along his nerves like a line of gasoline, making his toes tingle just a little.

When John pulled back to pant, to breathe, Bucky was leaning his forehead against John's as best as he could, their breathing in sync and driving Bucky even crazier. “Fuck,” Bucky muttered softly. He moved his right hand along John's torso a little, before pausing right at John's right nipple, quick to give it a teasing pinch to see how the man would react. “Hate needing air,” Bucky mumbled against John's lips before he's kissing John again, this time trying to taste everything in John's mouth.

Ms. Cat had gone outside by this time, leaving them to their animalish deeds.

Bucky found his hips moving in a slow rocking motion, a languid rock upward then right back down along John's thigh. It's a shame they're both wearing clothes still. His left hand nearly cracking the fake countertop as he slammed it there to catch himself, to balance himself. Bucky broke the kiss this time, to drop his head back while he kept his lazy pace of fucking himself against John's thigh. “Shit, John—” Bucky moaned, his neck becoming exposed.

Down the hall, Steve and Natasha were just coming up the stairs, talking to each other about something and it was Steve with an extra set of keys to Bucky's place who was unlocking the door and entering first just as Bucky was moaning John's name like that.

Natasha had stopped at the doorway, while Steve was still stepping in, mid sentence so he didn't quite hear Bucky in the state he was in. “—was telling Tony—” Now Natasha is grabbing Steve's arm to stop him from going any further. Steve turned his head, “Buck—Oh! Oh, fuck!” Steve swore! He really did! He turned around and felt his whole face heat up. “I'm so sorry!!”  

“You owe me twenty, Steve,” Natasha chuckled out.

John's hands were kept at Buck's bare waist, like he was ready to lift him up onto the counter. But the feeling of his hardening cock against his thigh kept him from moving Bucky onto the countertop. Focusing on shifting his thigh against him, almost like he's teasing him. Moving in as he felt Buck's hand grab at his shirt like he was hanging onto him. And John so badly wanted to be needed by him. One hand shifting up to feel over his smooth belly up towards his chest. Hands still exploring and curious. He's never touched a man like this. Had never touched someone so steeled by the world yet fragile. He knows that one small move... Just the tiniest turn and he'd be shoved aside. Kicked out. John wanted to be right for him.

When Bucky pulls back, John chases his lips only to pant against him. Catching his breath in his own, stealing it right from him. At the mutter, he leans in to kiss him again - ears going red at the sound of his cussing. Only for a moan to escape him as his nipple is teased beneath his shirt. "Hah... Fuck... Buck-" He starts to moan again but it's muffled by Bucky's mumbles and the proceeding kiss. He presses his chest into Bucky's hand, like he's encouraging him to do more.

The moment Bucky's head is falling back, John doesn't waste a second to start kissing towards his Adams apple. He lifts his thigh up a bit, helping Bucky ride his thigh more comfortably. Both his hands have slid up his body to feel towards his chest. "Don't stop-" He starts to breathe against the stubble on his neck.  

But then suddenly he hears shouting. And his head shoots up, to look over and he sees Steve. Steve of all fucking people and some woman. "oh shit." He whispers then lowers his leg from between Bucky's and straightens himself up. He's almost using his body like a shield, like he's trying to save Bucky's dignity a bit. He stared for a moment then cleared his throat. "Um, mind giving us... a second." He says, and manages a smile. It's fake. The fakest damn smile John has ever given in his life... But he's trying so hard to be the calm one right now. He feels like if another person reacts poorly, it'll make everything worse. And he seriously... did not want to be pushed away again.

Having John work his leg right against Bucky and in tandem in the best way was almost too much for the shorter man; yet, Bucky wasn't going to let himself go that quickly. He was desperate, but not a fucking teenager goddamn it. John's hand was still exploring, still touching as if he's never done this before and it hit Bucky he probably hadn't based upon their earlier conversation. Shit, that went straight to his head. Being a first for someone was somewhat of a power trip Bucky liked to secretly think about and John was just sort of playing into by accident.

Hearing John moan when Bucky pinched his nipple was a thrill, Bucky was definitely going to suck on those later—John was even pressing himself against Bucky's hand, he was just as needy as Bucky was being and it was so nice to feel wanted like this. John's stubble burned on his lips, on his chin as he spoke, 'don't stop—' and it was so fucking good to hear that. The idea of coming undone with John had become the sole focus, even as he feels a ghost of John's lips on his neck.

Bucky was moving his hips a little more when he heard Steve swear, which lust-drunk Bucky made a sharp, short laugh at. Then reality came crashing down, as he heard Nat too. His face turned a deep shade of red, while he started to flag and curl away from the whole situation entirely. His eyes fell to the open window, where he caught the edge of Ms. Cat's tail flicking as she jumped away from the situation. Lucky.

It took every single inch of willpower within Bucky not to kick them all out and even more so to not bolt out the window like a coward.

“Nat,” Bucky warned in a low voice, just as John was asking for privacy to give them a few minutes.  

Natasha was the one who leaned in, grabbing Steve's arm to yank him out of the apartment, and gave John just as fake of a smile as he gave Steve and Natasha. “Sure thing, Bucky. John.” She was terse, as she closed the door, then looked up at Steve's red face. It wasn't the appropriate time to laugh, so she didn't, but she was looking at Steve with a little bit of a smug smirk.  

Bucky stood against the counter still, breathing and counting his breaths as they filled his lungs, before he stepped away from John, inching toward the window a little. He will not run. Not right now. Instead, he pivots to grab his hoodie and shirt, sloppily putting both of them on, and he kept his back to John, not ready to face him.

“Bathroom is down the hall, if you want.” Bucky still didn't turn and if he felt the heat of John's body getting closer, he would just simply take a step forward to keep them as distant as possible. “Should be a clean towel if you want to shower.” It wasn't exactly an order, nor was it a plead but somewhere in between.

John turns to Bucky, opening his mouth to try and break some of the tension. The air felt so thick around them. He felt like he couldn't breathe. However no words came to him, mind totally blanking worse as Bucky turned away from him to get his shirt back on. He wants to stop him right away. But as Bucky creates more distance, the soldier feels quite defeated. All that they had managed to conquer in less than 24 hours just flew out that fucking window with Ms Cat. He blames himself because he wouldn't ever blame Bucky. After all, John had been the one to initiate. But he doesn't expect Bucky to reject him so quickly. Close him out. He breathes out and closes his eyes, tapping his hand on the countertop.

He raises the same hand up to reach for Buck but... he's stepping away. He lets his hand fall back and hit his leg. He shifts his weight from leg to leg for a moment before sighing. "I'll just leave, Bucky..." He finally decides. His proximity had fucked things up enough today. Bucky was always trying to get away even now and John didn't want to keep getting in the way. Keep messing shit up. "I'll um... Give you some space." He adds to explain his decision. His fingers start to anxiously tap on his thigh. "Let me know if you want to run tomorrow." He suggests and leaves it to Bucky. Over the past couple of months, John had always initiated. Asked Buck out for coffee. Even today, asked him to join in his run. They probably... just needed a breather.

He lingered for a second before turning and leaving. He closed the door quietly behind himself. Looking up from the ground at Natasha and Steve. He smiled, faint, a little more honest than the last just inside. He clears his throat and waves his hand, a little awkward and polite. "See ya another time." He says. No small talk. Then quickly rushes out.

Outside, he leans over his knees to breathe a moment then starts a run. He isnt quite sure where-to at first... But his body just leads him through the forming crowds until he ends up in a familiar space - the VAs office. He practically bursts into Sam's office. Startling the counselor as he looked up from paperwork and whatever it was he did in the office.

Without any greetings or niceties, John enters and shuts the door behind himself. "Bucky says I'm bisexual." And everything just spews out. A slew of venting and rambling. Beginning with that new bit of information - how he wasn’t so surprised. But so anxious as well. Old as hell and just learning this about himself. His attraction to Bucky. Steve and the lady walking in on them. And finally, Johns fear of fucking everything up always.

He rambles for a while to Sam. Up until there was nearly nothing left to ramble about. Was there even a point in coming to future group sessions? He feels like he just told Sam his whole damn life. However, Sam was barely comprehending how quickly he spoke and the sheer shock of he and bucky. John is breathless and sweaty when he decides he felt a little better although still with no real solution on how to move forward. So he leaves shortly after...

When the next day comes along... John never texts Bucky. In fact, he doesn't even go on his run that day. Hes busy... When the following day comes along the fruits of his work are ready. He'd baked... And baked a lot under all of that stress. Glazed Lemon Blueberry Scones, nutella croissants and finally  good old fashioned chocolate chip cookies were packaged up in tin boxes. John was shoving them into a brown bag. He rushed for a shower, slipped on his best jeans and v neck... Nearly left his home without the bag. Fetched the bag. Then started rushing for Bucky's apartment... Arriving just about the same time as before to get to Bucky before his run.

He brings out his phone and... waits for Bucky to answer his call. Or to show up. Whichever might come first.

There were no words for what Bucky was feeling at the moment, in any language that Bucky knew at least. The tension that was building between John and Bucky now was no longer sparks and tingling electricity, but to something cloudy and muddy. Bucky brought his right hand to his eyes, pushing his thumb and his index finger in just enough to hurt while John tapped his fingers on the counter.

Anything and everything they had built in the last few hours all came crumbling down and it was killing Bucky. He couldn't believe how much of a fuck up he had committed with giving Steve a key.  

When John spoke, he heard the disappointment, the frustration, but what hurt the most was that John didn't want to say. How could he, with how much Bucky kept pushing him away? While he may have been half joking about Bucky running when they kissed, John's words were clearly a worry. Bucky fucked it up, maybe beyond fixing at this point by pulling away so much. Someone could only be so patient, especially when learning something so new and so important to themselves.

Bucky didn't respond. He let John leave.

Steve looked up when the door opened, expecting Bucky, so his hands were raised to about his pecs when John stepped out. “Oh—John, I—” But John was short and to the point, curt and clearly upset. He left them with so many words, and Natasha had her arms crossed now while looking at Steve with a slight tilt of her head toward the door to try and suggest they go inside to talk to Bucky now.

Natasha had considered going inside with Steve, but decided that this was a situation for guy friends to work out and not guy friend plus girlfriend talk to Bucky. She had a feeling that it would make things worse, anyway. “Let me know if you need back up,” Natasha said softly to Steve, before turning away and taking out her phone to text Tony what's happened.

Steve stood there for a moment, considering how to go about this, before he entered the apartment for the second time in such a short time. He was pink around the cheeks and tips of his ears, as he closed the door behind himself. “Hey, Buck—” Steve started, but he fell short because he wasn't sure how to approach this just yet. “Look—”  

Bucky was looking out the window, downward, trying to maybe catch a glimpse of the retreating John when Steve came in. He heard Steve call his name, but Bucky was too pissed off all of the sudden to listen. He turned sharply to look at his best friend, his jaw set and his eyes squinting in a half glare. “What, Steve?” Bucky's voice was wrecked, not from what had happened earlier, but from emotion. “What can you possible say right now that can make this a good situation?” Bucky started closer to his friend, his head tilted in that way that mimicked a predator studying its prey.

Raising his hands again, Steve kept his expression as open as he could. He knew that look. “Bucky—“ Steve spoke his best friend's name in warning, but it was too late.  

Bucky's right fist was fast, but Steve knew what to look for. He blocked the hit faster than Bucky could make contact with his face, and the whole conversation dissolved from there. The fight didn't last too long either, thankfully for Steve because Bucky was not hesitating to use his left arm. A few holes in the dry wall could be patched later, not him so much.

The fight ended with Steve pinning Bucky face first on the floor and Steve's knee on Bucky's spine, one arm snaked around Bucky's right arm, and the other pressing Bucky's head to the floor. Natasha had entered the apartment at that point, and kept her smart-ass remark to herself, but the irony of Bucky being face first like this was not the way Bucky really wanted to be.

With the fight having left Bucky for now, Steve let go and apologized before helping Bucky up. “Listen, Bucky, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for any of this to happen like it did and I'm sorry for what happened at yesterday's session.”

Tired beyond all hell, Bucky took Steve's hand to stand up, and rolled his eyes while Steve started to talk. He walked to the counter, where he turned the coffee machine off, to give his hands something to do other than to destroy or hit. “Yeah. Steve.” Bucky sounded as tired as he felt. “Go home, Tony's probably missing you.” There were so many words left unsaid at that, so many undertones that Steve understood. The tension was back again.

“Yeah, Buck... Thanks for having us this week.” Polite to the end, Steve stood there a little longer, shoulders a little more square as he seemed to consider a fight. No fight came, just Steve getting the duffle he and Natasha shared.

“See you later, Bucky,” Natasha supplied as the duo left.

The rest of the day was spent with Bucky taking a shower and then nursing a bottle of whiskey that he forgot he had.

Morning had come faster than Bucky wanted, and while he woke up hungover, he realized that he had attempted to text John—none of the messages were actually sent, most of them were horribly typed out, some apologies, some jokes, some aggressive, or horrible attempts at being sexy—Sober Bucky did not like any of the messages either, so he deleted every draft he had and tossed his phone off to the side. He went for his run, but left at a later time, and went a different route.

At home, half of his day was spent looking at his phone to wait for a text from John—which half of that was spent attempting to think of something to text him with—the rest of his time was spent with a bottle and making sure that the place was cleaned enough for Ms. Cat, litterbox, new water new food, the window being open for her to be able to come and go as she pleased.

On the second day, Bucky hadn't slept. He wasn't drunk or tipsy by the time the sun rose, but he wished he was. He didn't want to face the day anymore, and he was considering just turning himself over.

As the thoughts spiraled, Bucky got up and got dressed for his usual run anyway because, like most people, was a creature of habit. Even though it was far earlier for his usual run, Bucky pushed himself to run anyway. It wasn't hard. He ran further, harder than he had on his usual route.

Per usual, Buck had left his phone in his apartment when he went out for his run so when John called him again, Bucky wasn't answering.

Although, John wouldn't have to wait too long as Bucky was walking up the street toward his apartment.

Stopping about half a block away from John, Bucky stared at the man with the bag and the phone to his ear. Bucky squared his shoulders, he knew what was coming, with the radio silence, it wasn't hard to think of what was going to be said. It's a shame they never got to go on that date.

Bucky started closing the distance between him and John, “you haven't seen my hat, have you?” Bucky called out instead of saying literally anything else. You fucking idiot.

John bit his lip as he heard the line ringing and ringing. Did he ever answer the phone? He huffed out when the call finally went to voicemail. He hangs up and stands in place, looking up and down the street. And just as he looks up, he sees Bucky quickly approaching. His big smile forms at seeing him. He starts walking as well, helping close the distance between them. About to greet him before being interrupted by the question. He tilts his head, smile falling flat... Hat? Oh! That hat... He remembers knocking it off his head by accident in the park when they'd kissed. Then after that... No he doesn't recall seeing it. He turns slightly in the direction of that park... The likelihood of it being there was slim. He turns back to Bucky to walk at his side.

"No. Not since the park." He answers. His smile forming again, "Morning." He finally greets. He brings the bag up a bit, "I'm sorry I didn't call yesterday... or text. I know I said I would. So, I'm sorry... I got distracted making all of these for you. There's um... some scones, cookies... and croissants." He starts to explain. Still holding the bag up, though he wasn't quite handing it over. "New stuff... Haven't brought these to our group sessions." He adds, trying to make sure Bucky knew it was like... special. Just for him kind of thing. "Well.. The chocolate chip are a repeat but it's a different recipe. Because I used a few different types of sugar... to make it sweeter." He explains.

He clears his throat as he realizes he's rambling again. "Um... I thought I could come up?" He says although, the tilt of his head and intonation make it a question for Bucky. "I'll... keep my hands to myself; in case there are any surprise visitors." He quickly adds as reassurance to him. Nothing about his voice indicates anger about what had happened... If anything, he was just back to being himself. Trying not to worry Bucky. Trying to repair. Always trying to fix things and make things better.  

"And uh... we could talk. About it... if you want." He squints a bit like that was what might get him kicked out. Like he's starting to tread on dangerous waters with these words. "We could not talk about it... Talk about something fun instead like that date." He squints for a moment longer before cracking his lop sided smile.

There was that smile, John smiled like nothing was wrong—like he didn't ghost Bucky, or actually ran first and it was like a punch to the gut. Bucky paused as they got within comfortable standing distance, just shy of being able to touch each other if they reached their hands out.

It was when John's face fell flat that Bucky felt sick again. He was too tired for this. At least John didn't play games, he was too straight forward and too honest about everything to play games. It was refreshing and sweet, and oh those were baked goods. Bucky's eyebrows shot up to his hairline while he looked at the bag being offered.

John didn't call or text because he was busy trying to bake. And bake for Bucky, at that. Bucky's stomach growled a little in response to the idea of having something to eat. But, these were items that he hadn't made for the group sessions yet, John had spent a whole damn day trying and baking treats just for Bucky. It wasn't lost on Bucky that these were special, in some way, and Bucky had this tiny smile for a moment while he looked at the bag. It wasn't offered to him yet, but Bucky was hungry for it.

The treat he was most looking forward to were the scones. Bucky loved a damn good scone.

Neither of them moved to go inside, as John explained he wanted to go inside and that he would keep his hands to himself, that he wanted or didn't want to talk about what had happened and Bucky bit back a smile, while he looked down at their feet, his right thumb coming up to brush just slightly against the edge of his eyebrow, before he's nodding. “Yeah, okay.” Bucky agreed full blanket to the whole situation, but when he heard that John still wanted to go on the date, Bucky's head snapped up and he stared at John in shock.

Fuck this dumb asshole.

Notes:

Whoopsie daisy :) Silly Steve and Natasha!

Chapter 7

Summary:

Let's try it again. The boys get a little hot and heavy, and there's a grill involved.

Also, I made up Bucky's family because I didn't see any actual names.

Bucky rolled his eyes with a smile on his face at John's good natured smile and lead them up to his apartment. John would see some of the aftermath of the fight yesterday, and Ms. Cat was sitting on the table, on the newspapers and staring at John when he came in.

Tossing his keys onto the table and startling Ms. Cat, Bucky walked to the counter and poured out the coffee from yesterday. He went through the motions of making a new pot, before turning to John. “Look, this is kind of new to me too.” Bucky finally said, and crossed his arms over his chest while leaning his hip against the counter. It looked like in all of his exhaustion, he was just wanting to be straightforward with John, despite his fears, his worries. Or maybe because of them.

“I didn't get a chance to really, get personal relationships, being overseas.” Bucky kept his gaze on John, not wanting to back down from the rough conversation, not wanting to relent just yet. “John, I don't want to run away. Not from you. Or whatever this is between us.” Now he looked away, now he felt shame and embarrassment slowly crawl up his spine, creeping like ooze. “I'm...sorry for yesterday.” His voice and throat tightened, constricting, was he about to have a panic attack? How was this harder than being a fucking captive?

Then something dawned on Bucky, and he slowly unfurled his arms, his hands clenching into tight fists, so tight his arms trembled, his chest was starting to heave with the actual panic attack coming. “If you don't—If this is too much, if the potential of me running, makes you feel trapped—” Bucky couldn't finish his sentence, he couldn't look at John.

John smiles, shoulders slumping with relief as Bucky agreed to it all. Must have caught him in a good mood! He follows behind him up to his apartment. Up the stairwell, taking two steps at a time. They reach his apartment and he steps in behind him. But he pauses when he sees the fist sized holes in the walls. He sort of sways on his feet as he sees how different the apartment looks compared to just a couple of days ago. His mouth opens to question it but stops himself. He walks after Bucky into the kitchen, setting down the bag on the tabletop. He starts to unpack the little boxes of goodies, nodding his head to show he was listening to him. This was... basically the most he's ever talked and John didn't want to interrupt. Didn't want to stop any of it. Because it's nice to actually listen to him. Get his feelings and thoughts. John exhausts himself with his own talking at times.

He turns when Bucky says his name and explains not wanting to run from this. He looks a little like a deer caught in headlights but less in a horrified/death way but in the this is great! type of way. He shakes his head, ready to just reassure that it was totally fine. But again, he really just doesn't want to interrupt Bucky. That is until he can see him panicking. See the confidence or authority he spoke with earlier just collapse.  

"Bucky." He says softly, setting down the cookies in his arms. Hands floating in front of his body because he literally just promised not to touch him. But... He couldn't just leave him panicking there alone. "Ok, I lied about the hands thing." He quickly says then steps in. Breaching their bubbles as he had a couple days ago. However this time it's just to hug him. His arms wrap around Bucky and tug him in.  

"Breathe, Buck. I've got you." He says as he's holding him. "You're not too much. I'm not trapped." He promises. He pulls back a bit so they can look at one another. He wants Bucky to see he's being so serious right now! "I want to try this. I want to be here. And like... get to know you. And take you out on a date and... like romantic things like that." He says, words starting to elongate at the end as he got a little lost. He thought about going out with Bucky... doing partner things. It was exciting... scary! But exciting. 

"I mean I don't really know like... what romantic things are but... I'll try everything." He quickly adds as a disclaimer.

"But I want this. I want to be here with you." He stood there a moment then starts to lift his hands off. "Ok... initiating the whole hands thing I promise... now." He squints, making sure that Bucky was also fine with that. Or like if he wanted more hugging, he could totally do that.

Why was he talking so much? John must have infected him with his talking-too-much disease for sure. Bucky tried to think of something else, anything else than the very idea he was trapping John in the situation because maybe John was too stupid to see that he didn't actually want Bucky—He was too in his own head, his words sort of stuttering out when John had come forward, saying something to him. Bucky looked up at John, seeing how close he was and he wasn't sure what was about to happen, but one thing Bucky knew by now was that John wouldn't be hurting him.

John's voice was muffled, like Bucky's head was under water and that hit harder than he expected.

Getting ready to shove John away because he was starting to have a flashback, Bucky tensed, ready to fight off the intruder in his personal space and instead of fists coming down on him or something worse, John was hugging him.

It was terrifying how quick he was coming back from the rabbit hole Bucky had found himself running into. With John so close, his mouth so close to Buck's ear, he could clearly hear the man despite Bucky's heart pounding hard in his own ears. 'I've got you.'

Closing his eyes tightly, Bucky found one hand grasping at John's back while his right hand cupped John's neck to hold him close. When John would try to pull away, Bucky wouldn't let him. Bucky needed this hug, he needed John holding him and it was embarrassing and stupid, and he was just so grateful and relieved that John hugged him, breaking his no touching self imposed rule from earlier.

His forehead dropped onto John's shoulder while he tried to calm down his breathing, his heart rate. And John was talking, rapidly, trying to calm Bucky down, but still trying to reassure him.

John wanted to be fucking romantic with him. Jesus Christ, they were so fucked.

“You're in luck,” Bucky said into John's collarbone, “I know every romantic thing,” it was said in such a deadpanned way that it was clear he was being sarcastic. After his comment, Bucky fell into silence, just listening to John's heart and his breathing, his words to calm and ground himself further.  

The hold started to wear on Bucky, but he refused to let go just yet. When he finally caught scent of his own sweat, he gripped just a little tighter onto John and finally he pulled away just enough to look up at the taller man. “Mind staying while I go shower?” While he was asking, attempting to be casual about it, Bucky was terrified of John leaving right now.  

John is a little relieved at how tight Bucky was hugging him. His hands falling back into place to hold him. He didn't mind that Bucky was sweaty or sticky. It was the last thing John cared about... Or just about. He blinks at the deadpan tone of his reply before he laughs. A good laugh that stemmed from his belly. He turns his head away, smile all big with amusement. He turns back to him. "That's terrific." He replies in a sarcastic tone that nearly matched Bucky's. It's his expression and lip pucker that gives him away.

When Bucky finally pulls apart, John reaches for his hand. He holds it, like providing Bucky more support. That he wasn't going anywhere and it certainly fits Bucky's ask. "Yeah, Buck... No problem." He replies and smiles. He looks around for a moment then at him. "I'll um... Get the coffee going... Get some of the goods out..." He starts to gesture with his free hand to each spot then finally over towards some of the holes in the walls.

"I'll check out the new decor... clean up a little..." He says. His goofy grin and the glint in his eyes showing his curiosity about the holes... Also his worry. He'd definitely been holding it in mentioning it. He slips his hand from Buck's and starts to move to the coffeemaker as he had mentioned he would.

While Bucky showered, John got busy getting Bucky's coffee. Lightening it with creamer and adding sugar. Peeking into the fridge and wondering if he should learn how to work an espresso machine - make Buck some of those sweet drinks he likes so much. Then he brings out a scone, setting it out on the countertop. He puts the rest of the treats away. He ends up wandering to said holes, eyeing how deep they are.. The dust from the drywall was splattered over the ground along with bigger pieces. He definitely had a way to fix these up at home. He thinks for a moment about running out then back but... He didn't want to scare Bucky. Also he had no way of getting back in.

Instead he puts it on his mental to-do list. He could hit up a home improvement shop on his way home. He picks up a piece of dry wall, flipping it back and forth to make sure he got a big enough sample of the paint color then stuffs it into his pocket. He'd need it to get the right paint color as well. He turns then towards Ms Cat, giving her some attention before continuing his cleaning around the living area. Throwing out the drywall that was on the ground. Cleaning up the litter. Getting papers into a neat pile.

Then he wanders over to the couch and has a seat to wait for Bucky.

So fucked. Every single way.

Bucky liked hearing John laugh like that, he enjoyed the way he felt the motion jumping out of John's chest. It was nice.

So when Bucky was prepping to leave John's arms, of course John was talking again. The man didn't know how to stop talking. It was stupid and endearing and Bucky just let him talk. At least there wasn't uncomfortable silence.

Pulling away entirely, Bucky looked at Ms. Cat on his way to the bathroom, giving her a gesture which she just meows at him for, and then Bucky is taking off his shirt as he wandered to the end of the hall into his room, gathering his clothes and a towel, then he walked back out into the hall to go to the bathroom on the right of the bedroom.
  
While John was doing what he was doing, Bucky had turned on a pretty hot shower to beat on his growing bruises and to beat out some of the tension sitting in every muscle. He found himself leaning against the wall at one point, before he just sort of slipped to sit in the shower, tilting his head down to let the water rush over him. It was not a very comfortable position, but Bucky was pretty tired.

At some point, Bucky inhaled deeply like he was waking up from sleep, and he shook his head, trying to shake the sleep from him entirely. Standing up, Bucky finished his shower routine and got out, drying his metal arm attachment first, afterward he put his arm on and got the rest of his body dry, slipping on his briefs, then a pair of jeans. He crumpled up the towel, his dirty clothes and left the bathroom to toss the dirty laundry in his basket, before Bucky walked over to his dresser, grabbing a shirt and walking out of the hallway to greet John as he put the shirt on. For once, Bucky wasn't hiding his prosthetic entirely.

“Steve and I got into a fight after you left.” Bucky explained, gesturing toward the now cleaned up dry wall holes. “Thanks,” Bucky added a bit lamely, “for cleaning up...”

Ms. Cat had disappeared after John paid her some love.

“That scone looks good,” Bucky changed the subject quickly as he moved over to grab the scone, but he paused as he looked at the coffee. He took a drink of that first, making a small face and adding some more sugar and stirring it before taking another drink. He put the cup down, quickly grabbing up the scone and taking a bite. “Fuck.” He muttered, “that's fucking delicious,” glazed and everything? Bucky felt spoiled, and he was not so prettily scarfing the scone down. “You've seriously got some talent, John,” and Bucky was happy to have it all to himself.

John sat up quick when he heard Bucky coming down the hall. He goes pretty blank when he sees some of the bruising on his body. Of course, Bucky's explanation fits the bruising and the wall situation. He feels awful for leaving now. For not having been there to stop their fight. Not that Bucky needed protecting - but he could have been there to support Bucky in the aftermath. It certainly explained why he looked so exhausted too. He stands up and follows him over to the table. Head lulling to the side as he waited for Bucky expression. Laughing when the coffee hadn't been sweet enough.

"I'm glad you like it. Whole lot more too." He gestures to where he'd stored all of the treats away by the cabinets. He turns, resting his bum on the edge of the table to face Bucky. "I... hope you don't mind but... I'm coming back tonight to fix all of that up." He gestures behind himself towards the damaged walls. He offers an apologetic smile because for once... He wasn't really asking for permission.

He fidgets a bit, arms crossing over his chest. "I would've come back that night if I knew you'd gotten in a fight, Buck." He says, almost like he's complaining at him. "I wouldn't have even left if I knew. Are you okay? I mean... You're hurt." He gestures a bit. "But... the other type of okay? Are you and Steve... alright?" He asks.

The way John looked at his torso had given Bucky pause but he didn't pay it too much mind while John came closer. The laugh, that stupid laugh! Bucky couldn't stop the smile that crawled on his face—Bucky still didn't shave yet, his stubble becoming a little more pronounced than the two days prior.

Looking back at the wall where Bucky had punched as John insisted he come back tonight to fix it, Bucky considered denying John but the man didn't ask for permission and that was amusing, a step in the right direction it feels like. Bucky shrugged it off and had some more of his coffee, “okay. Take my keys when you leave.” Bucky was casual about it, as if it was just an every day thing. Maybe he should stop giving his keys away to people. Oops.
  
Turning around to set his mug down, Bucky considered what John had said next. He really was blaming himself for the whole thing still, and Buck just shook his head. “I didn't even know we'd fight, John, it's not your fault. Shit happened.” Bucky finally turned to face John at the last question. Bucky's eyebrows were upturned, amusement and a little exhaustion just written all over his face.

“If a fight was going to break my friendship with Steve, then I don't think we would've made it very far in our childhood.” Bucky laughed a little, his right hand balancing him on the counter a little, and his left casually just resting on his hip. “We're good. He's an asshole, and a major buzzkill.”

Bucky now decided to let himself get a good look at what John was wearing today, and pausing at the sight of the chest hair peaking out of the v-neck. Fuck him. “First date ideas? Or should we call it our... whatever number date?” Bucky asked as he finally broke free of the trance of chest hair, his eyes finally meeting John's eyes. “I don't think I can handle any traditional dates, dinner, movie, that kind of thing.”

Oh, now he's the one who's rambling and it made Bucky blush a little as he looked away once again. That's when he realized, John didn't have any coffee. So, Bucky half turned away from John to remedy that. “Sam's coffee was shit, this isn't much better. At least it's not instant."

John had been shocked at the casual suggestion of just taking his keys! It felt like a huge step in their trust. And John was not going to fuck that up. Already repeating in his head to not lose the key, to knock even before coming in... And only doing it this once! He was so focused on repeating all of this that some of Bucky's explanation about Steve didn't even make it through one ear. It just bounced right off like a wall. But he did clock back in at buzzkill and he manages a nod to agree. "Yeah..." He jokingly agrees. When Bucky goes quiet, his head tilts. Wondering what the guy was making such a big deal to look at. Not thinking his chest hair had anything to do with it.

When he finally snaps back, John is startled by his voice. He goes blank, thinking about what other options there could be. "Hiking." He suggests. He hadn't picked up that Bucky started to ramble. Just began to follow him as he turned away to fix him up some coffee. "I'm really not picky." He reassures about the coffee, offering his best smile to convince him it was true. He hums a bit then continues to follow him.

"What if we cooked dinner together?" He suggests for a date. He rests now against the counter. Though now that he's facing the whole of the room, he's now forced to stare at the holes... The fucking holes. They piss him off for some reason. Because it's not right... Because he needs to fix it. Because Lemar was left with gaping holes in his body from the blast and he couldn't fix it.

He drops his gaze to the ground, arms crossing again over his chest. Hands squeezing over his biceps to calm himself while waiting for Bucky's thoughts.
  
Hiking? That didn't sound too bad, but Bucky wasn't the hiking kind of guy. Was John? Bucky raised his eyebrows a little, in thought. “I'd be willing, if you really wanted,” Bucky agreed and when he's finished pouring a black up of coffee, he turned to see John standing there, looking at the holes.

It was a nice idea, making dinner together, and Bucky wanted to agree but he watched John's whole demeanor change slowly. Bucky didn't know what his own panic attacks and flashbacks looked like from an outside view, but he was starting to understand it a little more as he saw John just staring at the holes.

Bucky moved across the floor to come stand physically between John and his triggering visual. “I don't really have a lot of food here... Why don't we head to your place?” Bucky suggested, hesitating to reach out before he finally does and places his right hand on John's bicep, then moving to hold his elbow, letting his hand rest there to try and reassure John. “C'mon.” Bucky pulled John toward the bedroom, not for the reason he had hoped he would in the future, but to pack a light bag and get outerwear on, and his gloves.

After he was dressed, with a lightly packed bag, he grabbed his keys and pulled John along once more. He wasn't giving John a choice, making them leave the trigger behind.

Once they were outside, Bucky started to steer them toward John's apartment building. “I'm not much of a cook, but I can throw a few hamburgers together.” God, that felt very American of him to say and it made him smirk a little at his own commentary, amused and annoyed all in one. “Pork chops, I can cook those. My mom taught me a trick with making sure they don't dry out too horribly.”

John kept his gaze focused on the ground. Counting the lines on the pale linoleum floors. Head tilting to the side when Bucky spoke, like he was listening. But the words seem distant. His own counting louder than Bucky's voice. His breath hitched when Bucky's feet break his count and he looks up at him. Squinting to focus his thoughts and hearing. His chest had begun to rise and fall a little quicker while in his daze. Gaze wandering back down when Bucky touches his bicep then down to his elbow. He doesn't get it at first... Just hears the c'mon and just follows Bucky away.

In Bucky's bedroom, he's distracted. He looks around, focusing on the little details and furnishing. Giving Bucky some privacy as well as he dressed. Then he followed Bucky right back out, keeping his eyes on the ground when they're getting by the living area. the moment they make it outside, John squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath. He felt like he could actually breathe now.

He swallows, Bucky's words finally making it through as he talks about what he could actually cook. He can't help it... he laughs. He sees an amused smirk on Bucky's lips and it excites him. Makes him feel a whole world better. "Yknow.. I got a grill out on the balcony." He tells him. "Think we could pick up some burgers... pork chops on the way back and... have our date tonight."

John seems set on it. He thought they'd have their date a little later in the week. Give them some time to prepare. But things seriously never went according to plan for them. So why even bother trying to plan it for another day. If things were working out right now, they should just do it. So John takes a little bit of the lead, guiding them to the near by store to buy their ingredients. Each of them taking some items on the invisible check list. One of john's items was some booze. He grabbed two bottles of whiskey. One to drink and one to cook with. He finds his way back to Bucky, easily finding him as they were both tall enough to peek over the short aisles.

He stands by him, pursing his lips... Thinking a moment before just speaking. Like always. "Buck, I still want to fix those walls. Tomorrow... or something." He suggests.

“Grilling already?” Bucky asked, amused and letting out a half laugh. “What are we, a couple of white picket fence dads?” Oh, maybe that shouldn't have been his joke and he's going to move on from it as quick as John suggested that this be a date tonight.

Gently bumping shoulders with John as they walked, “sure. Sounds like a good time,” Bucky agreed as John took the lead once again.

Inside the store, Bucky went around for the meat for the night. he stood over the hamburgers longer than he really wanted to and startled when John came over to him. He looked up, seeing what the man had and gave him a mildly impressed nod, and then finally grabbed some premade burger shapes. “Maybe the pork chops should be later this week,” Bucky suggested for later date night. “My mom's trick is sort of only for the pan, and not a grill.”

When John said he still wanted to fix the walls, Bucky considered it and then shrugged. “Alright,” he figured John's an adult and he can take care of himself, but also Bucky will be there to help him too. Whatever it was that John saw, Bucky just wanted him to be okay.

Bucky then grabbed veggies for the burgers, cheese—provolone and sharp cheddar—and finally he grabbed some creamer for the coffee at John's, figuring he was going to spending time over there just as much as he would be at home. Afterward, he grabbed the strawberry flavored pockey, some actual strawberries and paid for what he grabbed before they headed to John's.

When inside, Bucky set about like it was his own home, feeling comfortable enough to get the items he purchased into the necessary places. With just the pockey on the counter, and the container of strawberries with him, Bucky was rinsing the strawberries off before realizing he forgot to ask a very important question.

“Is this a gas grill, or charcoal?”

John smiles at the suggestion of saving the pork chops for another date. He nods, approving of this. "Secured date two already? Not bad..." He says before walking away before Bucky could make any type of comment at him about it. 

When they got home, John set the alcohol down on the countertop. He's starting to grab the items for the grill, the brush just to be sure it was nice and clean. He'd cleaned it the last time he'd used it but you never knew what type of things were crawling around while inactive! But as he's grabbing his own items, he notices how at home Bucky is. How he moves around naturally in the home... Oh he shouldn't be so happy to jump into something so domestic so quick. He knows plenty of people take this time to sleep around. Catch up on all those years of exploration he should have done as a teenager and in his early 20s.

None of that appealed to John though.

He was excited by Bucky being himself in his home. He's about to step to the balcony when Bucky turns to him. "Do I look like a novice?" He questions back and laughs some. "It's charcoal... Gives it a better flavor." He answers then continues over to the balcony. He opens up the doors, letting a cool breeze in. Then he starts removing the tarp and getting to giving the grill a good scrub. A bag of charcoal  sat at the bottom rack of the grill, ready for use. He starts to fire up the grill once it was ready. He shuts it to let it heat up for a bit then made his way back inside and over to Bucky.

"You want a drink?" He asks, gesturing to the whiskey they'd bought.

Sorry John, Bucky was a horny little shithead. You're going to learn that soon enough.

Bucky watched as John gathered his items, and it was nice to see the man was pretty serious about his grilling. Even when he laughed about not being a novice, Bucky snorted slightly, taking a meaty strawberry and taking a bite out of while just keeping his eyes on John while the man started cleaning the grill.

Letting his eyes wander as they please. He admired John's muscles moving as they expanded, contracted and when John was done cleaning the grill, Bucky turned to lick the strawberry juices off of the strawberry and then finishing the strawberry off to leave the stem. He tossed the stem into the trash, and sucked in a little to finish  getting some juices off of his lips.

John was offering a drink, and Bucky nodded. “Yeah.” While Bucky would have preferred to get some beer instead of just whiskey, he decided maybe getting a little drunk wouldn't be too bad of an idea. Bucky turned to the cupboards, digging through until he found the glasses. Grabbing two, he set them down on the counter and paused. “Do you have frozen glasses for this, or ice?” It's not that Bucky didn't drink whiskey without ice or cold cups, but he was realizing John might prefer that and he was just assuming. Oops.

The soldier had been so busy on the grill that he seriously hadn't noticed Bucky watching him through the glass doors. And unfortunately for him too, he'd missed Bucky sucking on that strawberry. He was totally oblivious, concentrating on the work he'd applied himself to. And the same would probably happen tomorrow at Bucky's house while John patched up his walls.

He washes his hand as Bucky goes on to get their drinks. He looks over and nodded, gesturing with his chin over to the fridge. "Yeah yeah... I think there's ice." He says. He tried to keep the tray full... Whenever he got back from his runs, he liked to drink ice water. He's heard some people say it was bad to drink cold water after exercising but... John didn't care. Seriously. He could be drinking beer after a workout! But he was choosing water. A clearly healthier option. Ice or not.

He turns away and starts to prep the meat now, seasoning. Working it in slowly, massaging his fingers into them. His back and arm muscles flexing as he kneaded into the meats. It was a shame bucky hadn't seen him making bread. When he felt satisfied with the spice tinted patties, he washes his hands and starts to pull out ziploc bags. Filling it with a shot of whiskey and more spices for the meats to marinate while the grill fired up.

"You have any siblings?" He asks suddenly. He looks over at him, starting to stuff the bag with the meats.

Despite feeling silly, Bucky was glad that John answered him. He turned to the freezer, getting out the basic tray of cubes, where he popped a few out—one for John, two for Bucky, and then he put the tray back and turned to catch John's fingers massaging the raw meat and why did that make Bucky blush?

Clearing his throat, Bucky finished pouring some of the whiskey for the two of them, about two fingers each before putting the drinking whiskey on the counter. He put John's glass close to the sink so that he could wash his hands and then drink, while Bucky moved to sit on the counter, taking a drink of his whiskey at the question. ”Getting personal now, Walker?” Bucky teased softly, his crows feet shining through while he smiled.

Taking a sip of the whiskey, he grimaced at the burn because he'll really never get used to it, letting the glass come to rest between his hands and on his lap a little. “Three younger sisters,” Bucky studied the apartment a little more again, trying to familiarize it so that if he did get drunk as hell he could walk around without completely busting ass. “One passed away before my parents moved us to New York, pretty sure that's why we actually moved. And to save their marriage,” Bucky shrugged a little like what can you do, and sipped more at the whiskey. “My other sisters, Gemma and Leah, are both successful in their own rights. One is trying to get into the Olympics last I heard, and the other is in law school currently. I think.” Bucky hesitated a little, “since coming back, it's been a bit hard to keep any sort of relationship.” Bucky informed John, lamely, and then he is downing the rest of his whiskey. Too soon, too much. He's definitely going to be drunk tonight.

“I don't remember catching if you had siblings or not,” Bucky gave John a sideways glance, wondering if this was dangerous waters or not.

John looked over at the teasing, big goofy smile on his face before he looked away. He felt shy at the tease... moreso at the way Bucky smiled in that moment. Yeah this was totally the right move for a date. Maybe hiking another day... After a few more dates. Because he was certainly interested in seeing Bucky sweaty again. He concentrates on stuffing the bags again and listening. Three younger sisters. Yeah he could totally see that. He could see Bucky being protective of them just as he was of Steve in their childhood. Hell, he could even imagine Steve hanging around them all. He looked over, seeing the way Bucky was sipping and sipping at that whiskey. Was it too personal?

He hums and turns back to his work. "Yeah I get it." He admitted. Obviously he got it. He couldn't even manage his relationship with his wife... He imagined it was just as bad for Bucky who had had a worse time of it. "No. No siblings." He tells him, "Just my mom and me. Dad was..." He shrugs, "You know, my mom never actually told me what happened. And by the time I was 12, I figured I didn't need a dad. My mom... she was more than enough. Is more than enough." He quickly adds, not trying to make it sound like she was gone. She was prominent in his life.

"Call her at least once a day." He says with a shy laugh. He closes up the ziploc bags then side steps to the sink. He washes his hands again and once he was done, he grabs the glass set aside for him. He walks over to Bucky, grabbing the bottle of whiskey along his way. He pours Buck another glass then sets the bottle aside. He brings their glasses together, carefully tapping them together.

"Cheers." He whispers, holding eye contact. Holding it even as he brings the glass to his lips and taking a good gulp of it. He makes a sour face then chuckles a bit, setting the glass down. "You like livin' in the city?" He asks. He rests his hands at either side of Bucky's legs.
  
It was sweet, to hear John had a great relationship with his mom and it was good to hear that John still had living family. Someone else who remembered Lemar. “Good,” Bucky echoed his thoughts when he heard John called her every day. Then he felt mischievous a little, his green eyes glittering a little with the mischievous energy, “have you told her about us yet?” Bucky stage whispered, playing up the secretiveness because it was just silly to him, he was reminded of the park when John asked if they were senators, not meant to be caught kissing.

His smile was still sitting comfortably on his face, making his cheeks and the muscles in his head behind his ears ache a little. This was actually a nice date so far and Bucky was hoping it continued that way, hoping that neither of them fucked it up—Not that John would fuck it up necessarily, but he could end up ruining the mood by being all self hating.

His tongue rubbed the inside of his lower lip at his train of thought, how fucking annoying. Bucky was suddenly drawn right back into reality as John is in front of him, reaching around him to grab the whiskey, where he topped Bucky off and stayed within his personal space. Whoa.

A blush crawled up his neck and onto his cheeks while John clincked their glasses together, while John tilted his head back with the glass to those pretty pretty pink lips. Bucky didn't move, he was captivated and his eyes watched John's Adam's apple bob with the effort of drinking that whiskey—and the tension dimmed just a little as John scrunched his face up like a cat tasting something bad. It made Bucky laugh, low and shaking his shoulders just a little. He drank some of his glass now, thinking about the question, or kind of thinking about the question but he was really thinking about knocking the glasses away and just jumping into John's arms right at that moment.

John put the glass down on the counter, Bucky following the action without moving his head at all. His eyes lingered on John's hands staying on the counter on either side of Bucky's legs. Bucky looked at John's face now, taking his time to appreciate John's neck, his jaw and letting his eyes linger on John's lips before he finally made eye contact.

The entire time Bucky's lips were slightly parted, he finally closed them, only for his tongue to come out and trace his top lip to the cupid's bow before disappearing again. “I like living here,” Bucky didn't mean to sound so heated, but his interest in John's closeness was riling him up in all the right ways.

Putting his glass down next to John's, he moved his legs in such a way to curl his ankles just around John's legs to draw John in that much closer. “You like living here, John?” Bucky asked, his voice lowering while he leaned up more, to just let their chests touch, ghosting and teasing touches to see how much Bucky could rile John up too.

John hums at the whispered question then laughs a little. "Kinda." He answers simply. He felt awful for lying to his mother about Bucky... He wanted to tell her the truth. But he knew she and Olivia called every day. Because she's the daughter his mom never had. And John, caring and loving as ever, would never take that from his mom. No matter the status of his relationship with Olivia. He's not afraid of what his mom might think. He knows she'll love him. She loved him even through her slight disappointment about the divorce. He was afraid of Olivia... Afraid of what she might twist. Afraid she'd find Bucky and be cruel. John could take her cruelty... And he's sure Bucky of all damn people could take it and it would mean nothing... But John couldn't live with that.

He's totally distracted when Bucky starts to draw him in. Locking his ankles behind him to tug him in close. He smiles a little at his whisper... The way he leans into him. He let's out a breathy sigh, and ducks his head down to hide his smile. Hide the little blush that was heating up his cheeks. He laughs a bit, nodding his head then finally looking up into his eyes.

"Yes... Right here. Exactly here." He taps his fingers at either side of Buck's legs. Driving his point that he meant specifically there, tucked between his legs. Their chests just barely touching. He leans in a little closer so that their lips just brush. And John... it was so crazy to think. He already missed kissing him. Tasting his sweat at the tip of his tongue. He breathes out a sigh and smiles. "Buck..." He whispers, almost like hes complaining about all of this teasing.

"I promised I wouldn't..." He mumbles. Clearly on the edge of the fence, ready to jump over to Bucky's side at the subtlest breeze. One hand starts to scoot a little closer to Bucky's leg.

Oh it was so fucking good to be here and Bucky decided that the last however long it's been since meeting John was worth it. Maybe he'd send Steve a thank you card. And flowers. Steve liked flowers. It would have the added effect of pissing Tony off—but it dawned on Bucky just as he heard John tapping on the counter saying he liked being right where he was at, between Bucky's legs. John was still trying to be a good boy and not touch Bucky. And fuck that got Bucky hard quick enough he felt dizzy.

But then John was whining, whispering his name and saying his promise out loud now as if Bucky hadn't clued in yet.

That mischievous glint came back and Bucky was moving his right hand up from John's hip to untuck the other soldier's shirt, letting the tips of his fingers ghost the hot skin of John's stomach. He felt John's treasure trail, wanting to grab and yank it a little but he resisted. "Keep being good for me?" Bucky asked, his voice thick and nearly a wreck all the while he looked up to meet John's gaze. "Since you promised." There is a little grin on Bucky's face before he tilted his head to let his lips brush against John's cheek, and then he moved to give John's jawline a little kiss, teasing and trying to break John to get him to touch Bucky.

He lingered his lips there at John's jawline, before tilting his head to let his nose trace John's neck just a little. He took in a deep breath through his nose, almost like he was scenting the taller man. He turned his head just enough to trace his lips lightly against John's neck and then without warning, Bucky outright bit him. Enough to be startling but not break skin, where he is going to start making a hickey.
  
Letting his fingers wander on John's chest, he traced the trail upward to the bit of mess of chest hair, where he laid his hand out flat to just feel the edge of John's heart beat through his fingers and to feel his heavy breathing. It was intimate and rejuvenating to feel; he enjoyed the way John gasped in pain, but he didn't do anything about it, so clearly he was enjoying it. Good. Bucky would push the envelope with how much John was going to be willing to take, but that was later. Now he was just focusing on leaving a mark. His mark.

When John ghosted his fingers on Bucky's hip, Bucky was hoping that John couldn't handle himself anymore and just take what he wanted. But, John was still trying to be good like Bucky had asked him to and it made Bucky smirk against John's neck. He finally released the skin from his mouth only to lick it once or twice, and turning his head to get ready to leave another mark just as he felt John say ok more than he heard the taller soldier.

But John was grabbing him, yanking him closer by his hips and when he felt those hands on his thighs, Bucky was completely undone. He let out a small, breathy moan at the not quite light touching on his thighs. Oh fuck, he forgot how sensitive he was there. Bucky was thankful that they were starting to kiss again, because he did not want to sound too wrecked just yet. When John muttered the obvious, Bucky couldn't stop himself from smiling, and letting out a low, warm laugh. “Jesus, John” Bucky responded, and then pressed a light kiss to the other man's deliciously beautiful pink lips.

He's about to start a deeper kiss, to really taste John's mouth when he heard the typical iPhone alarm start to ring. What a fucking mood killer, and Bucky pulled back to look at John with confusion. “You set an alarm? For the grill?” How would someone know to do that?

He smiles as Bucky laughs. Feeling the tickle of his warm breath against his lips and chin. He laughs a little too, happy to hear Bucky's sounds. He closes his eyes as a lighter kiss is pressed to his lips. Breathing out some against him before tugging Bucky to his hips. Spreading his legs open with his waist. Feeling the way his jeans can hardly cover up his want. John wasn't short of feeling the same. He was so damn needy... and frustrated about their past interruptions. Between his own running, Bucks, and Steve's; it was getting to be too much. But there was no one that would be bursting into his home. No one to stop them. His hands squeezing at the sides of his thighs, then one hand starts to move to his center. Ready to explore; to learn about this newfound attraction.

He barely hears the alarm going off, only feeling as Bucky pulls away. John desperately chases his lips but stops short at his words. His chin slightly resting on Bucky's, eyes squinting as he thinks. "No." He answers simply. His eyelids are droopy, dreamy, from their kissing and touching. He's about to lean back in but the alarm keeps going... And he realizes what it is; or who.

His face pales and he looks filled with dread. He pulls back a bit more. "Shit." He curses, digging his phone out from his back pocket to see the name Olivia on the screen. He breathes out then shakes his head, "It's... fine. Don't worry about it." He says, pressing his thumb to the volume to silence it. He sets his phone aside quickly, then quickly leans in to kiss Bucky's lip like an apology. The phone screen goes black beside them... Then starts to ring again, it somehow felt louder than the last time. His shoulders slump and his head drops to Bucky's shoulder. "I'm sorry." He apologizes quickly then looks at him. "I'll just... answer. Really quick. And we can get back to our date." He promises, hands sliding from his thighs.

He does look apologetic... Big blue eyes a little wet. He turns away and grabs his phone, picking it up. "Hey, Olivia. What's going on?" He asks, quickly cutting to the point.

"What are you doing?" Olivia asks on the other line. Her voice is pretty stern, serious.

"Uhhh... Grilling." He squints a bit.

"You know you're an awful liar. I don't see you on your balcony." She replies.

John snaps his neck so fast towards the balcony, looking even paler. Why was she here? What did she want?

"Let me up or come down. This is serious."

"Is it about the divorce?" He questions softly, looking at Bucky. He's totally confused and looking to him as if he might have an answer.

"John. Let me up or come down." Then she hangs up.

John stood frozen in place then looked at Bucky, deer in headlights. "I'm so sorry." He apologizes again to him then starts to pull away from the safety of his body. He sighs then rests his hands on his hips. "Think um... Might be faster if I just go down there. Will you come with me?" He asks.

Between the two of them laughing it was just a little piece of heaven. He was caught off guard again as he feels those hands on his fucking thighs, then his hips, pulling him even closer to slot their cocks together between their clothes. Fuck, it was too much layers between them. Bucky's hand went from resting on John's chest to the waistband of his jeans, moving to try and get his pants undone so that they can truly get to the good part.

The ringing was annoying. It was destroying his mood, even though John looked all dopey like this, love drunk and just wanting to continue kissing, so much so, John just turned the volume down and resumed kissing Bucky. He wasn't going to complain, ready and eager to forget the interruption, tracing another ghost kiss over John's lips and rubbing his chin like he's a cat against John's chin to feel the stubble burn. It was just right—then John was pulling back enough to look at his phone again.
  
Bucky sat back against the counter again, languid while he took up one of their glasses, taking a sip until he sees that John is turning white. All desire and lazy horniness is gone instantly. He sat up a little straighter, letting his ankles uncross and come to rest right next to John's legs.

They were close enough that Bucky could hear the whole conversation. When Olivia—the ex wife—said that John wasn't on his patio, Bucky frowned. The word 'language' had died on his tongue at the tone of the woman on the phone. Something was wrong.

”Stop apologizing,” Bucky's tone wasn't unkind, but it was tense for sure. It was hard to see John like this, how scared he seemed. Man, seeing combat was definitely easier than civilian and relationships. He pursed his lips, downing the rest of the whiskey and offering the other cup to John for encouragement. This wasn't going to be easy for John and Bucky nodded, “yeah I'll go down with you.”

He got off the counter, rolling his shoulders a little to steel himself for what was about to come. Bucky would try to be polite, but he was definitely not going to be welcoming, she didn't deserve it with how she was making John feel.
  
Before they left the apartment, Bucky grabbed a hold of John's arm lightly, pulling him a little closer, reaching up and guiding a gentle kiss to John's lips in an attempt to be reassuring. Then, they made the trek down to the front and Bucky had his famous Bucky Death Stare at her as they got outside. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, keeping back by the door to be a fast exit for John if necessary.

He looks at the glass of whiskey as it is offered to him. Debating it. Then finally he takes it and downs it quickly. He shakes his head, shivering and scrunching his shoulders. "Ugh... good stuff." He mutters then steps back to give Bucky space to jump off the counter. Despite the worry sitting in his stomach like a huge boulder, keeping his attention on Bucky was calming. He felt it was grounding. But he didn't want to think about it for long... Olivia used to feel grounding to John. But then she felt like an anchor - weighing him.

He turns and heads out of the apartment. then quickly turning because he'd forgotten his keys and to lock the door. He steps back in, grabs the keys then right back out. He goes down the elevator, the boring music only making his growing anxiety worse. He felt a little too light footed from the whiskey. He steps out of the elevator when Bucky grabbed him. He takes a few steps back to reach him then turns and faces him. He hums, quickly getting lost in the taste of whiskey on Bucky's lips. He wants to linger on it. Wants to stay a while right there. But they can't. They continue out of the apartment building where Olivia waited for them right outside.

Olivia is nearly a foot shorter than John. Her head would fall perfectly at his chest if they'd hugged. Her natural dark brown curls were half up, while the rest hung just past her shoulders. She looked, unfortunately, just as serious as Bucky did when they stepped out. Her head tilting when she saw this man with her (ex) husband. She blinks slowly then looks at John... She knew John and she saw how much in disarray he was. Clearly she'd interrupted. His untucked shirt, wrinkled at about chest height... And of course the huge hickey forming at his neck. His hair muddled and messy.

"Who's this?" She asks plainly, arms crossing over her chest.

John blinks then shakes his head, "Liv... what's going on?" He ignores her question. Because it also wasn't her business and John knew that. Despite his fears... his anxiety of being there, he needed to keep Bucky safe.

Olivia stared then looks at John. She knows she's about to fuck up their entire day... She doesn't mind at all now. In fact, her original conversation was out and a new one was forming. "I'm pregnant." She says plainly.

John's head slowly tilted, foot stepping forward before back. "Wow." He says as some happiness starts to form. He got the hint; it's his. And he's excited and... uncertain also. Looking over at Bucky because... well they never exactly had a reason to talk about kids. And up until the divorce... John had wanted that life. He opens his mouth a bit to ask questions. How far along she was? When she was due? How he could help? Could he go to any appointments with her?

"The lawyers will call you tomorrow to discuss child support... And how my full custody of the baby will work." She says and smiles. A bitchy type. It certainly works to hurt him because John's expression drops.

"What... No- no." He starts to argue.

Olivia shakes her head, "Not letting my child grow up in a torn up home and then on the weeks have to go home to... whatever this is." She gestures her palm out towards both Bucky and John.

She was pretty, Bucky would give her that but that meant she used it to her advantage. Pretty girls were usually the best or worst people and it seemed like Olivia was falling into the worst category.

Bucky remained still, unblinking and staring her down while she and John spoke. He was proud of John, for getting to the point and not bending at her questions, he didn't know what their marriage was like, but if he knew anything about John was that he easily bent to accommodate the people he loved.

Watching this woman closely, he could see the gears turning in her head after John was asking what this was about. There was something turning in her head, and he could tell when she was about to deliver some news that would change everything. Why else would she be here? When she said she was pregnant, Bucky tensed, his metal arm twisting as he curled his hand into a fist, what a horrible bitch for saying that to her fucking ex. Yes, John deserved to know, but Bucky could clearly tell this was a manipulation, a way to get back at John rather than sharing good news.

Giving John a sideways glance without turning his head, Bucky could see the happiness forming in his stance, the way he looked excited like a puppy all of the sudden and while he was nervous too, Bucky could tell this was something John really wanted. Before John could ask any questions, Olivia was tugging the rug from right under John by saying she was going for sole custody of the baby, and when she gestured to Bucky and John, saying she didn't want the child to grow up in a broken home and coming to visit with whatever was going on between these two men—Oh, Bucky had to remind himself this woman was a civilian. She was also someone John clearly cared about still.

Bucky took a step down from the doorway, his anger coming to a head—He stopped himself after one step, not trying to intimidate her because that would not go well with any lawyer. Bucky gently grabbed a hold of John's shoulder, trying to help him get grounded, and he stared down at Olivia, “congrats, on being pregnant. But it's not just your kid and send your lawyers, John will fight you every step of the way.” Bucky wanted to say we would fight you, but he knew it wasn't his battle.

“Have a good day.” Bucky is turning to now give John deserved attention. “Let's go back in,” Bucky insisted, a bit harder than intended. He needed to separate this woman from their situation before Bucky did something beyond repair.

The world started spinning... and it felt a whole lot warmer too. He felt his throat and chest get tight as he bit down his words. They were bustling. His head filled with so many things he wanted to shout. Fine, have the fucking kid. Do it your way. You always do, and on the flip side, Please don't do this. He wanted to be in that baby's life. He wanted to be a dad. He never had a dad growing up and even though he came to terms with it, was happy with his mother... He remembers the years of wondering why he hadn't been good enough for his dad to be around. Maybe that's where it all came from... Wanting to be good. Hoping his best would be enough. It never seemed to be.

He opens his mouth to speak but Bucky is grabbing his shoulder and speaking. John looks at him, brows furrowing like he's trying to understand his words. But they sound like they are coming from a different room. But he trusts him... trusts him to help him right now when he felt like he was about to explode. Fall apart. Disintegrate.

"I don't think my husband is done speaking to me." She said, giving Bucky a little up and down. The corner of her lip twitched some to hide a smirk. She was being cruel... Trying to ruin whatever they had with the implication that maybe she and John would get back together... To give John the false hope that she had wanted to... To make Bucky angry and make the sole-custody fight easier. John is with an unstable man... A baby can't grow up in that environment.

It's like the world snapped right back into place when she spoke to Bucky. John looking at her, brows furrowing angrily before he wraps his arm around Bucky's waist. "Let's go." He says softly. He starts to guide him back to the door.

Olivia smiled a bit as she watched the two men... "Bye, John... Don't worry, I'll tell your mom about all of this too." She adds. Still trying to egg something on from either of the men.

John was wrecked by all of this, he looked like he was shell shocked when they made eye contact and when Olivia called John her husband, Bucky turned to look at her with the most confused and judgemental stare. “Ex,” Bucky started, but before he could really get into, to really lay into her, John was talking first.

She really wanted to get a rise out of John, she wanted them to fight, and for someone to be cruel to her so she could be the victim. Maybe he could ask Natasha to help with fighting her—No! She's a civilian and unfortunately Nat wasn't.

It was Bucky's turn to look smug at the snubbed ex when John wrapped his arm around Bucky's waist. What was that Tony had called Steve? New Boo? Yeah. New Boo, fuck off old bitch. Raising his right hand with their backs turned to Olivia, Bucky wandered back inside with John, happily putting his right hand over John's back to let them get into the elevator together.

Bucky didn't talk yet, he waited until they were inside John's apartment, before he's gently grasping John by the waist with both hands, turning to face him and keeping John there instead of wandering off just yet. “Why don't you call your mom to get ahead of her?” Bucky suggested, there's some hesitation in Bucky for a moment until he's solid in his own plan. “I'm going to start the burgers, because fuck her, I'm hungry, and we already started.”

——

After Bucky and John had left her alone on the street, he watched the woman as she walked toward her car and when she got in, he was quiet still yet. People never tend to check their back seats.

A cold gun barrel pressed right against the side of her head in warning. “Don't talk,” he spoke in perfect English but she would hear a bit of an accent. “If you scream, I will shoot you.” This man warned coolly. “Olivia Gomez,” He hummed a little, then shifting so that his gun isn't in easy grabbing range. “Drive. Let's have a chat.”

Notes:

Once more, Olivia is amazing and deserves better in canon. Also!!! Do NOT pay attention to what's going on behind the curtain. just enjoy the ride :)

Chapter 8

Summary:

The girls are fiiiiiighting!!!!!!!!!!!!

Group goes a bit wonky and some stuff comes to light. Sam pokes the bear and someone else pays the price.

John closed his eyes as his mother was brought up. Exactly what he'd fear... But he just continued back inside. The elevator music was so distant in that moment. He had even forgotten that Bucky was right beside him still. Not realizing it until he felt his hands on his waist and he's being turned to face him. He rests one hand over Bucky's, feeling over his knuckles in a self-soothing way. He breathes out at the suggestion and nodded his head, agreeing. He should have explained Bucky from the very start although the very start was really just a few days ago when Bucky broke the news to him about his sexuality. He glances up at the patio, at the grill... "Okay... I'll be right there to help." He answers, he leans in and kisses Bucky's temple. It's the first time they've kissed without their wild drive being at the source.

He steps away towards their emptied glasses of whiskey and starts to serve them another drink each. He pulls his phone from his pocket and starts to dial his mother. As the line starts ringing, he sets one glass of whiskey on top of the ziploc'd meats. He carries everything over to Bucky, still trying to help with their grilling. He then goes back inside, standing at the counter with his glass. Instantly smiling when he heard his mom pick up. They start to chat, at some point Buck can hear him promising that he's still been going to the group sessions every week. That they're very helpful.
  
Then he starts the more serious talk, "Mom, I need to tell you something serious..." He pauses, squinting, "No... No mom. I'm not moving back." He quickly says. He laughs and nods, "Yeah, it would be nice to help with the animals... But I'm happy here.." He looks towards Bucky, grabbing his glass and making his way out to the grill to sit at one of the seats.

The little patio/balcony had a grill on the far side then in the middle seats that overlooked the little fence and city. Some plants hanging over head that were surprisingly cared for.

"Mom, mom... Mom." He laughs, "Can I talk?" He asks, a little amused. "You know um, that friend I made at the sessions... Bucky, yes. Yeah him." He glanced at Bucky as she loudly recounted how they'd gone out to coffee often and even grocery shopped and how he seemed like a very great friend. "He's really great, mom. So great that... We're... seeing each other. Like..."

His mom shouts like a boyfriend? so loud that John flinches from the phone, quickly lowering the volume.

"Umm... Yeah yeah... If he wants to be." He squints, glancing at Bucky. His free hand comes up to his mouth to start chewing on his nails. Then his mom starts to bring up Olivia. If John had been cheating on her overseas with Bucky. And if he was gay, he could have told her a long time ago. That it was okay to be gay but cheating was not forgivable! And every time John tried to interrupt her... She continued to ramble. Very obvious where he got this from. "Mom." He complains and then a heaving sigh from the phone. "I didn't cheat on Olivia... I just met Bucky a few months ago. I just... wanted to tell you. Because Olivia just came by and... Let me know she's pregnant-" A scream from the other side, John startling and nearly dropping the phone on the ground. He quickly brings it back to his ear, cringing from the shouting. "Mom...? But she wants sole custody. And-"

"You know she loves you. You two can't be separated... You've known each other since birth!" She cries on the other end.

John sighs and shakes his head. "I don't think she does anymore... Mom I just wanted to tell you before she does. So you know the truth. But I gotta go now... ok? I'll call you later tonight or tomorrow." He promises. His mom rambles a little longer, at some point she says when will you bring him so I can meet him? which John glances at Bucky then shrugs, about to answer before his mom keeps rambling.

Eventually they hang up. John's ear is pink from having held the phone there for so long. He's slumping back against his seat and closes his eyes.

"I mean... It went about... as good as it could." He announces after some silence.

Deciding right there, with John staring off into the distance, just rubbing Bucky's knuckles, Bucky decided he was going to hold a grudge and he was going to do what he could to make this woman's life a living hell—

Bucky nodded as John said he'd try to help while on call with his mom. And the kiss to his temple? Fuck, it gave Bucky pause, but he turned to head to the grill. Standing by the grill, he looked down to see Olivia just get into her car and that's when he turned away from her to pay attention to the grill and poke the coals or something.

He looked up as John came and went a few times, giving him a new glass of whiskey and the bagged meat. He would start putting the meat down on the grill, taking a sip of the whiskey while keeping an ear out for what John was saying. The idea of John moving, and that his mom had a farm was somewhat sweet. Maybe they should move back—whoa why did he automatically include himself in that? He was really fucked up about John already. Shit.

There was a moment where he let himself imagining them on a farm together. Oh to have their own Brokeback Mountain. Now Bucky was blushing, looking down at the grill.

Looking over as John came to sit on one of the chairs, looking casual and at home. It was... Nice. He could hear snippets of John's mom just chatting away, just like John liked to. Now that was adorable, of course John had to pick it up somewhere. Catching the fact that his mom was recounting the times Bucky and John went doing chores together, or even going for coffee, Bucky's eyebrows really tried to meet his hairline. Wow, John really did just tell her everything. Bucky found himself a little jealous of that.

Then she was shouting, like a boyfriend?! at John and John hesitated before saying, if Bucky wanted to be. They made eye contact, and Bucky nodded in agreement like yeah sure, let's be boyfriends. He's so casual about it.

Then Momma Walker was going in on John about him potentially being a cheater, which just reinforced that Olivia was poisoning the relationship between John and his mother. That was not okay. Bucky's jaw set a little while he continued to keep an ear out for the conversation, he closed the lid to the grill and stood there still. The heat licking at him, echoing the heat he felt in the past.

Stepping away and joining John in the opposite chair of him, Bucky took a sip of alcohol to let the two Walkers continue talking. The scream definitely had Bucky twitch, he looked over at John to see if he was okay, looking just a little amused and mostly worried. But, then she was insisting that John and Olivia couldn't be separated like this, they knew each other for so long! Bucky did a little bit of a head bobble in mocking at the idea of Olivia trying to be loving in any possibility and he's glad that John didn't see that.

He was a little in his own head, when Mama Walker asked when they would meet, so Bucky didn't see John shrugging. But the conversation was over, and John was hanging up. “Yeah? Your ears okay?” Bucky asked, glancing over to give him a once over as if they had just been a fight or something. He let the silence linger a little while longer after that, taking a slow pull of his whiskey, before tilting his head back to look at the plants.
  
“I'll call my sister, Leah, tomorrow. Pretty sure she's going for divorce court major, if she's still in school.” Bucky explained, now shifting to sit forward, turning the cup in his hand a little. “If you really want to be a dad, John, and she's actually pregnant, I'll do whatever I can to help.”

John huffs out air through his nose, smiling at his remark. "She's... my mom's real y'know typical lady from the south who went to an even friendlier Midwest neighborhood, y'know. As loud as she can be." He explains in a loving way. Although his ear was definitely burning from having the phone there for so long. He sips at his whiskey, feeling the burning liquid moisten his dried mouth. He watches as Bucky tilted his head back. He's so calm, he thinks. He wonders how... John wouldn't quite know how to deal with this if he'd been on Bucky's end. Shit, he didn't even know how to deal with it and he was the one going through it! Not just the shit with Olivia, but his mother. Asking if they were boyfriends which Bucky had so casually confirmed it. Then about meeting his mom.

He reaches his hand over just as buck starts to talk. He touches his fingers to Bucky's left hand, resting just over the top of his. Fingers feeling a bit over the metal grooves. He's keeping his gaze there as he thinks about Bucky's willingness to help. It seemed a lot to ask of him when they were just at the very beginning of all of this. It all felt so... backwards. Which his brain can't exactly comprehend. He felt like there was a linear way of doing things yet... He found himself so quickly falling for Bucky. Wanting him in his life. Wanting him to meet his mother and they were still getting to know one another.

"Buck..." He begins, "I... I do want to be a dad." He admits. "But..." He chews on the inside of his cheek. His knee starts to bounce a little. He's afraid he's going to fuck things up again. He lifts his eyes to look at him. "At the risk of... fucking things up or... sounding stupid...er." He cracks a little smile, "But... If, i mean... Let's say things go great for us. And..." He shrugs a bit. "Is that even something you would want?" He asks, tilting his head.

"It's not for everyone... And I get it. It's hard to like... just function now with the shit we've been through. And I can't blame you if you wouldn't... I just... Don't want to ruin your life or something. Or... just... lose this." He adds on, fingers sliding down to his metal wrist and holding onto it a bit.

Yeah it did surprise Bucky too, how calm he was about the whole situation but he knew this is what he wanted for now. And he also really was a guy who lived on spite, from childhood to now, he was top of his class because he was told he couldn't do it, he was a star athlete because they said he couldn't be. Bucky did it because people said no to him, and just like Steve, he didn't take it.

So like fucking hell he was going to let anyone get in the way of whatever he and John were building.

For Bucky, he really hadn't dated people before, usually he just had quick and heavy passionate moments and that was it. He really didn't see himself dating people, even when he was a teenager. When he was a kid, he didn't think marriage was worth it because of what he saw with his parents, how they acted and hated each other. His sisters, on the other hand, were total romantics and were always wanting to be married.

Being drawn out of his thoughts as he felt the warm hand on his metal one. Fucking Christ, what did Stark do with this thing? He doesn't think about it too much, he doesn't want to, he focuses instead on what John's fingers felt like against the metal. Insane. He looked up at John, as he spoke through his thoughts, bringing up his worry about what they have and that being a dad might ruin it and giving Bucky a way out of it all.

Yeah, he didn't have an interest in being a parent but that was at least 9 months down the line for him to think about and maybe it was selfish of him to have that thought, but Bucky was really gunning for being selfish with John. “Yeah,” he responded, thoughtful as he finished his second whiskey and turned his metal hand around a bit to lace their fingers together. “I don't really want to lose this either,” Bucky was still just calm—it felt like the eye of the hurricane type of calm, although, a torrent of emotions just building as it always was with Bucky.

“I've never thought about being a dad before, John, but I don't think it would be very fair of me to try and get in the way of your chance.” Bucky now is making eye contact with John, if John was looking at him. “Whatever you decide, I'm with you.” That felt a lot like a vow, an unspoken confession of love and it reminded Bucky of his and Steve's exchange when Steve was there to rescue him—

John breathes out as Bucky turned his hand to lace their fingers together and he looks up at him. There's some relief in his words... That he was somewhat on the same page about their relationship. Both wanting it to work and so afraid to lose it. Like they both needed it to work to restore some sense of trust in humanity. Some of it. He nodded at his honesty and then finally such a firm decision to stick with him. He smiles at him then leans down a bit, bringing Bucky's hand over to his lips. He turns their hand so he can kiss the top and along the knuckles, slipping his fingers free from Buck's.

"Let me get those burgers." He decides, standing up from his seat. He brings the last of his whiskey to his mouth and drinks it. He sets the glass down then steps over to Bucky. His hand goes up his arm to rest at his shoulder. He leans down and kisses his temple once again before stepping away to take care of the burgers. When the burgers were ready, john fixed them up on some buns along with the veggies that Bucky had bought at the store. John poured them another glass of whiskey to have over their burgers. John could feel a little buzz on him now, three glasses in and the warm day was probably dehydrating them. Letting the booze sink in a little deeper.

the rest of their day is spent sharing whiskey and talking... Talking casual and calm. Getting to know each other more. John telling Bucky about the types of animals his mother had at the ranch. Goats and cows. Chickens of course. Sharing details about some of his childhood. He even brought his phone out to share pictures of him and his mother. John's younger in the pictures, still in his army uniform. They'd clearly been taken during the little intermissions they got. Eventually night came along and John felt comfortable as he invited Bucky to his bed. Sharing languid and half drunk kisses and touches while lying there.

The next day, John did as he promised. He went to the home improvement store and returned to Bucky's to fix up his walls. He even got them painted! As if a fight had never occurred between Bucky and Steve. And days continued to roll by in a similar fashion. They'd see each other for their runs then maybe pick something to do. Finally came the start of the new week - group session time. John had made some chocolate croissants to go with Sam's shitty bitter coffee. The good type of croissant that would melt upon touching the warm coffee.

He gets to the VAs office, starts to set everything up for them.

Olivia had seriously fucked up by letting John go, Bucky thought bitterly while John had kissed Bucky's metal hand with a sort of gentleness that most people would assume a soldier could never achieve. Bucky swore he could feel the echo of John's lips on his knuckles. He mourned the loss of John's hand in his own with a slight pull of his lips to make a thin line, but he looked up when John said he wanted to get back to making the burgers. “Alright,” Bucky agreed quietly. Since it was John's house, and John's grill, he let the man take over.

The rest of the night was spent with the two of them loose from the alcohol, freely talking about themselves and letting the other get to know them. It was a terrifying concept, to be precieved in such a private way. Younger John definitely didn't fit his uniform, it was kind of bittersweet to see John in such a way, but he enjoyed what he could. He felt a little bitter he didn't have any photos of him and Steve like that—

When the burgers were eaten, or put away and they were ready for bed, Bucky was relieved to know John wanted him to stay. Of course when they got to John's bed, things got somewhat heated, but in such a lazy, exploring way that Bucky had found himself asleep before they went further than just some kissing.

On the following day, John and Bucky went to the store to grab the items John needed to get Bucky's apartment fixed. When he saw that John had a piece of the drywall in his pocket, Bucky had let out a startled laugh, of course he had some of the dry wall it just made sense. While John was fixing up the wall, Bucky made the two of them some damn good sandwiches!

During the rest of the week, they slept in their apartments much to Bucky's dismay but had spent a lot of time together. Nearly every waking moment, it felt—well, it felt like home to Bucky. And at the same time, he felt so alone when they weren't together which in turn, felt very pathetic, but he also felt double pathetic because he found himself constantly thinking about John. He spent a lot of time in the shower, or on his mattress on the floor with his thoughts surrounding John and those god. damned. pink lips or his calloused, yet soft touches. Fuck.

Also during that time, Bucky had gathered the guts to call Leah. She was out of law school, she was definitely a divorce and family law lawyer and she was married to another lawyer. Leah was happy that Bucky reached out, not treating him with kiddie gloves but with respect, it was nice. But, Leah agreed to help with John’s case, asking when they can meet. Bucky said he would let her know, as the following day was group and Bucky was wanting to give John a night to himself.

Bucky woke up late the following day, he slept for a very long time--He slept through his run time, through their usual coffee meet up and even through lunch time. When he woke up, he was delirious and out of it, forgetting for a moment that he was in DC. While panic had sort of settled deep in his bones, Bucky tried to feel not like he was a stranger in his own apartment, struggling to get dressed and by the time it was group, Bucky was running late.

When he finally realized he had a phone, Bucky had called Steve. It was the first time he called Steve since his visit, and there hadn’t even been two rings before Steve picked up. Bucky was quiet, while Steve answered, asking if Bucky was okay, so when Bucky didn’t answer his question, Steve knew he wasn’t okay and asked if Bucky needed him to fly down.

“No.” Bucky answered, terse and quiet, which meant Steve really wanted to fly down now but he was going to respect Bucky’s wishes. Steve slowly started to talk about what he had done for the day, just giving Bucky some company verbally, making sure to steer clear of having Bucky do more than just listen and also not bring up John. When Bucky was feeling more like a person, he finally just thanked Steve and said he had to go for group, which Steve was excited and encouraging for Bucky to continue going.

Bucky drank some tap water, before heading to the group session. Getting in nearly 20 minutes later than start time, he didn’t look at Sam or even John. He didn’t grab coffee or the croissants, just moving to sit down and jiggle his leg a little in anxious wait for the questions, questions he knew he wasn’t going to answer, nor could he answer right now.

John had finished setting up with Sam, the two having small chat as they grabbed croissants and coffee. When they sat down, it stood out to them most then that Bucky still hadn't arrived. John's leg began to bounce a bit in place. He'd become used to seeing Bucky every day this past week. He'd missed him yesterday but he knew it was normal to have space. But it seemed to him that the space reaffirmed his attraction and... more importantly, the comfort he found in Bucky. After 10 minutes, John suggests he go out to Bucky's apartment. But Sam denies it, certain that he'd show up.

At the 15 minute mark, Sam starts thinking about calling him. And two minutes after, he starts to call. Only to be reminded by John that Bucky was like an old man and never answered his phone. Or never carried it. Sam huffed; "I don't know how he turned out to be such an old man..." Sam complained but he paused when he heard footsteps entering the VA's office. He turns in his seat to look at the door to the group meeting room and smiled when Bucky came in. "Was just about to call ya, but John reminded me you don't carry it... like ever." He smiles but hums when Buck just sits down. Sam's little therapist/counselor alarms were going off. This would either be a great session for Buck or... a step back.

"Well... I'm glad it's our usual group now. Let's start... How's the week been for you guys?" Sam asks. He looks at John first as the blond tended to kick them off. And well, he knew John had had quite the week seeing as the guy had stopped in to talk about him and Buck.

John sipped his coffee, his blue doe eyes on Bucky. Seeing the way his leg bounced. He's been regretful for the past few seconds of not having checked on Bucky. He should have. He should have known something was upsetting him. As the silence sits, John looks at Sam and raises his browns at him. He clears his throat a bit and nodded his head. "Uhh yeah. Right. Eventful." He begins, blinking a bit as he decided where to start. "Um..." He looks again at Bucky because he didn't know exactly where to start. What he could and couldn't say. He decides to start off with what he thought might be the somewhat easiest to chat about and wasn't directly about trying to date Bucky.

"We were grilling on Thursday at my apartment... when Olivia stopped by." John began. "Which went..." He rolls his eyes and huffs out. "She told me she's pregnant. And then... She said she wanted sole custody which... Really sucks. And... I want to be in the kid's life." He thinks for a moment, fidgeting the coffee cup in his hands. He looks up quickly though, trying to get back onto topic and the positive outcome. "But Buck.. his sister is a lawyer so she might be able to help. Which... Having him there in that moment was also really helpful. I think I would have... i don't even know... if I had been alone." He smiles towards Bucky.

Sam nods his head. "Think it's great that you two are um... hanging out." He says. He locks his hands together to illustrate what he means. "Bet it feels good to have a support system. That's what these groups are for - no matter how small the group." He smiles, looking towards Bucky. "How do you feel about... having John as a support, Buck?" He asks, tilting his head. Bucky knew Sam... and Buck also knew that it was Sam's subtle way of asking how comfortable he was feeling. If he felt safe. How things were going. And how it compared to Steve's support or presence.

Jaw set, he remained quiet and didn't look up from the floor. He had chosen to sit far enough away from them to give himself space, to show he needed space. And when Sam started, asking how their week went, Bucky worked his jaw a little. His teeth started to hurt. He felt like he had taken a step back from it all, his blood rushing in his ears so loud to the point that he was having a hard time hearing what John was saying.

Bucky could hear that John was talking, and probably talking about the two of them, which was fine. Bucky didn't care who knew—except, his anonymous texter. But that was swimming deeper from under Bucky's thoughts; everything else was swimming, John, Sam, his sister, the fact Olivia was such a bitch about having a child with John but trying to take it away from him—but then Steve came to mind, his call with Steve not too long before he got here and Bucky was reminded of his rescue. It just twisted his guts, but he started to relax enough that he came in just to hear Sam talking.

Bucky had kept his head tilted down, gaze remaining on the linoleum floor. Sam was asking him, how was it to feel about having John as support and Bucky didn't feel like that description fit. His expression became a little scrunched up as he considered what to say. “Good.” Now he finally sat back, letting them both see his face as far as his hair would allow, and he didn't really shift his hair while he considered what to say next. “Yeah, um. It's been good, having John as my boyfriend.” There, he set the record straight and he was tired of feeling like there was tension about it.

And when Bucky started talking again, there's a little smile at the corner of his lips, “Steve was surprised when I first came out to him, you know.” Bucky felt the urge to fidget, but he didn't, he kept still, while his eyes were still downcast. “It was before I was taken hostage, really, a few days or something.” Bucky squinted just a little, as if he were in that hot desert, reliving the memory. ”But I didn't let him respond, and we didn't talk about it again.” Even now, there wasn't a conversation about Bucky's sexuality, it just seemed to be something Steve accepted and let be.

“When I was held captive,” Bucky's throat hurt a little, but he was tired of hiding and running and ignoring it. Group was meant for this wasn't it? “I obsessed over it,” Bucky finally looked up, but not at either of the men in the room with him, but at the wall where the coffee was at. “So when Steve was there,” Bucky kept the tremble out of his voice, but barely, he kept the touch of aw he still felt to his day out of his voice, “one of the first things I asked him was if he was still okay with me liking men,” Bucky let out this choked noise of a laugh, and there is another one of his genuine little smiles despite the topic, despite the fear and wrecked noise he made. “His response? He laughed, in shock of course, and said we can talk about boys when I was home safe.”

He wanted to get up, walk around, do something other than sit there, but Bucky felt locked in place but with less anxiety and more just locked in the memory of waking up and seeing Steve, built like a goddamn brick house, standing over him. It was the happiest day of his life.

Sam's brows were furrowed a touch, concern starting to seep into his expression. He didn't particularly like the way Bucky had answered in regards to John. His expression serious however it changed the moment he began about Steve. He glanced over to John, hoping the guy didn't catch it... But John had. His head tilted just a few millimeters to the side. His cup hardly pressed to his lips. Sam breathed out and brought his attention back to Bucky. He... feared this. He nods his head a bit, arms crossing over his chest and leaning back against his seat.

He did his best to nod his head and just listen to Bucky as he focused on Steve. Focuses so much about what the man thought of him. A long standing issue that even Steve had brought up although... Steve was beyond kind about it. Didn't think it was weird but acknowledged the concern of it. Sam, on the other hand, didn't think it was healthy at all. Found it beyond concerning. And now... Now he worried what Bucky thought he was doing with John. What he saw in him. What he expected him to be.

"Dunno how you dealt with it... Not ever getting an answer to your question. It would've driven me nuts." He comments. "His approval must mean a lot to you... that you thought about it even in while being held captive." He adds.

"What's it like... to be so far away from him?" Sam continues. He doesn't want to neglect John... However, Sam knows that this could also very well be some of the most John's heard him talk. Because for Sam it was as well. "Is it comforting that yknow... John or I could come in and help you since Steve is so far?" He asks, a little more to the point.

John's gaze snaps to Sam for a moment. He continues to look confused by Sam's questioning but... The blond seems to trust that he was getting somewhere. Sam... always seemed to know how to guide these sessions. How to make them helpful session. But John is so confused for now. So he's quiet... let's Sam work.

Not for the first time ever, nor would it be ever the last, Bucky had not been aware entirely of the social faux pas he's made. He glanced over at Sam when the man finally spoke up, and that is when Bucky realized how much he talked and boy he regretted very single word. He was a little embarrassed, ducking his head somewhat to just look down at the floor again.

Letting Sam continue to talk, Bucky considered what was being said. Finally, Bucky turned to look at John and yeah it was good that John was here. He focused back on the floor, thinking about Steve still, thinking about it was a bit insane that Bucky never got a real answer about Bucky's sexuality from his best friend, but he'd decided long ago that he didn't need verbal confirmation, “I don't need to hear it from Steve to know,” Bucky explained a little bit sassy about it, as he grew a little defensive and he wasn't quite sure why just yet.

Bucky's brows furrowed at the question, letting it sink in and he set his jaw again, tense and aching his teeth. He realized that he had called Steve, first, when he was having issues before coming to session. Bucky thought for a moment, letting the silence fill the room, while he considered how to answer this question and actually trying to be a little careful about how he answered. “Of course I am, Sam.” Bucky finally settled on, his heart hammering in his chest as anxiety started to root in his stomach.

“I came to DC because Steve suggested it,” somehow that felt like the wrong thing to say but Bucky wasn't going to take anything he said back. Not that he could, really. Now that would be a super power.

“The only reason Steve isn't here, is because he's with Tony and Nat.” There's bitterness in his tone he couldn't quite fight as he explained a little further, that in fact, he could have Steve here if he wanted.

Sam's brows had risen at Bucky's sassy and defensive reply, but quickly he lets them drop. He only nods his head to Bucky's talking. He looks over at John for a moment, "You like livin' in DC, John?" He asks to help break up some of the tension that was growing in the room. Trying to get the pressure off of Bucky for a moment.

John blinked as he was addressed, a little taken aback from Bucky's answer about living here. Because... just the other night, Bucky had said he liked living here. But... Now John gets that Bucky isn't. That he'd be happier if Steve was there or if he was wherever Steve lived. But John... John had felt happy there now that he knew Bucky. He would have honestly actually moved back to Illinois if this group thing had never gone well.

"Um... Yeah, Yeah I like it here..." He answers then turns his attention right back to Bucky.

Sam nods a bit then looks at Bucky. "Yeah... I like DC, sometimes I miss living in Louisiana. Had my parents boat and restaurant down there. Sometimes I miss the people but... Y'know I realize that I'm different now than when i lived down there. That being back there... put me where I was as a teenager. It's good to still see all my family and old neighbors... But the distance is healthy. The distance shows that... I'm not a teenager anymore. I'm different. I'm an adult."

"Do you think, Buck... if you had Steve around in DC, that maybe... it'd just be reminder of being held captive or the past?" He asks, arms crossing again over his chest. His head tilting and shoulder rising to rest his cheek there.

Bucky was and is happy he's here. He should have said that. But it just felt like everything that was coming out of his mouth wasn't exactly in his control—lack of a filter, he thought and he glared at the floor while Sam asked John if he liked it here. Of course he did. John had said so earlier in the week. Bucky bit back snapping at Sam about the whole conversation. It was grating on Bucky, making him question if he should have come today or not.

Sam continued talking, explaining in that metaphorical way of his that he was better off being here instead of at home because he wouldn't have grown much as a person. Bucky let his jaw stay slightly clenched as he considered this conversation, letting the words mull over, until Sam's next question directed at him.

Something about it hit hard. Sam had slapped him with a genuine question that shocked him, that immediately pissed him off. His eyebrows knit together a little, his breathing slowed while the world just stopped for a second. He opened his mouth, just a tad, to maybe answer or to tell Sam to fuck off, but was Sam right? No, "not with Steve." Bucky wasn't exactly aware he said something as he stood up, fast enough his chair slid back and buckled under the movement.

He was quick, making his way straight to Sam and picking him up by his shirt, slamming him into the wall and staring down at the counselor.

The silence was so damn loud for John. He was finally getting it. He could see his own intense defense in Bucky's responses about Steve. If Sam had been talking about Olivia this way about a year earlier, he'd have fought him too. Despite already being on the path of divorce and hating one another. He would have been pissed at the insinuation that their separation would be better. But now... of course he knew that it had been better for them. That John was on the right path. He looks down at his coffee, feeling how cold it is.

Sam was instantly tense as Bucky suddenly lunged at him. His hands grabbing his wrists to keep them from punching. He knew some of Bucky's moves by now. "It's time to move on, Bucky... You've got a new life." He says despite how close he is to being fought.

John had also moved when Bucky did, dropping his coffee on the ground in the process. "Buck." John says, hand sliding between them to touch Bucky's chest. "Nobody here is going to hurt you... You don't need to fight anymore." John tries to reassure him. Whatever Sam was trying to do... John wanted to ignore it. He just wanted to bring Bucky down from this high. "C'mon... come with me. Let's go outside." He suggests. His hand starts to lightly push Bucky back from Sam.

Holding Sam there, he's staring down at the man with such intense need to hurt for what Sam was saying to him, Bucky tilted his head back a little, giving an indication that he was about to headbutt the other soldier when John's hand was on his chest.

The loss of the sudden need to hurt, to fight, had made Bucky dizzy like he was drunk. He felt John's hand just firm, pushing him, he heard John speaking in his hear asking them to go, and reassuring that there wasn't intent to hurt Bucky.

Bucky's face became blank, he was still holding Sam by his shirt for a moment until John pushed just a little again. Finally, he released Sam's shirt and even backed away. His lips curled over his teeth as he considered violence just once more because fuck you Sam, Bucky turned away.

Shoving John's hand off of himself, despite not wanting to do so or wanting to fight at all anymore, Bucky just couldn't verbalize he didn't want to be touched. He didn't look at either of them as he shouldered John while passing him. Although he did give a slight pause at the baked goods there, and he didn't grab them as he walked outside.

Sam's words stormed in his head, what the fuck did he mean? Bucky was standing near the alley, not in it just yet but he was working his jaw while standing there, staring at the spot he caught John at all those sessions ago. That's when he felt John's presence before hearing him talk, saying his name like that, all gentle and confused. Bucky turned to John finally, moving to cross his arms over his chest while he looked at John. “Moving on from what I went through is a little harder than just... what we've been doing,” Bucky grit out, unsure of what else to say.

Sam wasn't afraid of Bucky even as he begun to hang his head back. He wasn't a stranger to fights. He wasn't a stranger to Bucky's violence either. However, John's words and touch seemed to have breached through Bucky's fear and dense head. He watches the man backing down for once and retreating. Bucky doesn't even realize yet that not even Steve could do that. Sam felt like the fights just got worse when Steve was around and clearly in topic.

The two watch Bucky storm out. John hadn't taken much offense to his hands being pushed away but... He had felt his heart sink when he was shoulder checked. He looked down at the ground, taking a deep breath because he wanted to go after Bucky. But he dreaded the feelings he couldn't keep away. He dreaded the conversation they were about to have. He looks at Sam, gesturing back to the coffee, "I can clean that up when I get back."

"It's okay, man... Just go ahead. You two head home." Sam reassures, patting his arm.

John apologized before rushing out behind Bucky. He burst through the door, looked around then saw Bucky standing not far from the alleyway he'd hid in a couple of weeks ago. "Buck," He calls as he starts making his way over. When he finally gets to him, Bucky turned to him... And John swears maybe Bucky  looked a little confused. His head tilting at his words.

"I... Buck, I don't think that's what Sam means..." He whispers to him, standing about a foot from him. His lips part as if to speak but he stops himself for a moment. He rocks slightly like a self soothing motion, "Bucky you know I'd never hurt you... Or say something that would hurt you." He says first. Preparing Bucky for what could be a difficult conversation.

"Did you and Steve date in the past?" He asks. He didn't have another way to ask or get to the question. He wasn't good at leading up to big topics like Sam was. "If I was asked me a year ago to separate from Olivia... I would have fought whoever asked me that... Because I was in love with her and... I thought we could work anything out. I thought we were supposed to be together forever." He explains where he's coming from.

As John says he doesn't believe Sam is talking about his time being held captive, Bucky still felt the sting of confusion. What else did Sam mean, to move on? Bucky felt his hands turning into fists and then relaxing them a few times while John just stood so close, seeming to need time to himself to figure out what he was trying to say. John was walking on egg shells, and Bucky got it. Bucky just blew up in there, and he refused to let regret settle in his stomach.

As John tried to remind Bucky that he wasn't going to hurt him, never intentionally, Bucky tensed. He felt his posture change just a little while he stared up into those doe-blue eyes, and when John asked if he and Steve dated, it blew Bucky's mind. He felt like the cogs that had been turning were just shattered, and he stared up at John with his eyebrows knitted together. “What?” Bucky asked, at first, confused but he let John continue.

He brought up Olivia. He brought up how would have fought just like Bucky had, a year ago. Bucky's face paled, it finally clicked.

“I'm not—” Bucky started, hesitating just a little, “I'm not in love with Steve, John.” Now he was a little defensive, a frown painting over Bucky's lips, before his jaw set again. “He's—He's just my best friend.”

John sucked his lips between his teeth and chewed on them as Bucky answered. He related to his defensive-ness... Because John got that way too. He's totally self aware of it. But because he's defensive, he knows it to be true then. John looks down at their feet as he thinks, nodding his head once. "Right." He answers. He keeps his gaze to the ground for a little then brings his attention back. "Best friends don't do all of that." He gestures back towards the VAs office.

"Buck, you said I remind you of Steve..." He reminds him of that moment, "And... we’re dating." He continues his reminders.

As he says this, it's like he's saying it to himself. It's like he's realizing it in that moment too. He can't help it - he feels totally and utterly inadequate. He'd felt inadequate when Bucky had made the comparison... And now because he was definitely just second-best to Steve. Bucky couldn't have Steve so he settled for John. He felt like he wouldn't ever be good enough. He wasn't good enough for a father, for a wife and not even as a soldier. And now, he wasn't even good enough as a partner because... He was going to be compared to Steve. He could feel his eyes start to water at this realization.

"Is that... like... the only reason we're dating?" He asks, head tilting. He wanted to step closer because now he was getting angry. He wants Bucky to immediately deny it. To quell his fears and anger like he has before. The way he had when they were talking to Olivia. The way he had when John had been the one panicking out here. But... There's a pause too long for John. His eyes roll and he's swinging his right fist into Bucky's jaw. He swings with his full body, knocking his elbow into Buck's face as well. He doesn't want to let up, immediately stepping forward before Bucky would fall. He grabs him by the collar with his left and raises his right to punch again. But he hesitates this time.

The situation was getting beyond Bucky's emotional capacity to handle, he knew it, but he wanted to keep trying because it was John. He frowned a little, as John stated that what Bucky had done back there wasn't something just best friends did together.

When John brought up that Bucky had said that John and Steve were similar, it hurt not just John but it also hurt Bucky because, they were similar. Yet, Bucky had come to know John and he didn't have to compare the two of them because they were just so separate. Sure, similarities were not lost on Bucky, but John was John and Steve was Steve... The lines were blurred, although, now that both Sam and John were pointing them out.

Fuck.

And then John asked something that was unexpected. Were they dating because Bucky was using him as a stand in for Steve?

Bucky wanted to say no, right away, and he could feel it forming in his throat but he hesitated. How could John think that?

It was just too long of a pause on Bucky's part, because John reacted as poorly as Bucky has. The punch to his face was absolutely a shock, he was not expecting John to resort to violence so he was thrown through a loop. The elbow to his jaw hurt just as much as John's haymaker. Bucky quickly stumbled, recovering as John is grabbing him with his collar and Bucky reacted. Tit for tat.

As John raised his fist again, Bucky's right hand came up to catch it. It hurt, catching the fist, but his left hand came over to act before he could try and be reasonable. His fist closed, he would bring it down on John's arm holding him in place, before he shoved John away with a quick push of both hands. When he's free of John, he spits on the ground to see blood.

It was when he saw his own blood that he understood exactly what he just did. John's pained cry definitely got through the fog of the fight, and Bucky froze in place. He stared at John, worry and concern and fear and disgust rapidly formed through Bucky's face and he is holding his hands up to show he doesn't mean hurt anymore like he's trying to approach an animal, “John—”

Seeing John like this was pretty fucking low for Bucky, he didn't move any closer at the warning. Those blue eyes that were once so inviting were now fearful, filled with anger, and John told him not to come near him, not to talk to him and Bucky wanted to argue, he wanted to apologize. The word already coming out, but he stopped because John was already running and Bucky stood there, stunned.

How could he have done this to John?

Bucky walked slowly to get to his apartment, where he sat on his love seat until the sun rose. He didn't go for his run, instead he sat there, and had his phone in his normal hand, staring at the contact for John, staring at their last few texts to each other and he had started to type, then deleted the messages, then tried again but he ended up deleting everything and setting his phone off to the side.

He took a shower later that day, made sure Ms. Cat was fed and the litter box cleaned, before trying to sleep. His sleep was inundated with the memory of fighting with John, of breaking his arm, of multiple versions of John and Sam and Steve all repeating exactly what John had last said to him. He could hear the crack, loud and clear, in his sleep and after about three fitful hours of sleep, Bucky was back up and working out.

The next few days were just a blur, so much so that Bucky hadn't realized he lost his beat up and much beloved hoodie. Feeling more and more like a disaster each day, Bucky had drafted too many messages to John—but he was trying to respect John's last words to him, don't talk to me.

When group session time came around, Bucky had considered not going, but he was a bit hopeful that maybe he would be able to see John and they could talk. Deep down, though, Bucky knew John wouldn't be there. Why would he? Bucky broke his fucking arm.

Coming through the doors to the small room Sam used for the group sessions, Bucky stood at the doorway, wearing a new leather jacket, his hands shoved into the pockets while he stood there, awkward and staring at the empty space. No John. No baked goods. Bucky really messed up.

He considered leaving, too, but decided that he shouldn't run. Not today, not right now. Instead, he grabbed a cup of shit coffee and sat down to wait.

When Sam started the session, without waiting for John, Bucky knew John wasn't going to come. Bucky closed his eyes, and just sat there in silence. He couldn't take it, and he didn't want to answer Sam or anything he had to say. Then, when Sam said the session was done, Bucky stood and made his way to the little table with the coffee and paused beside Sam. “You're right.” Bucky said a bit lamely, but headed right out of the office from there to go home and lose himself in a cheap bottle of whiskey, maybe some vodka if he still had that bottle laying around somewhere.

——

About two days into John staying with his mom, he would receive a text from Olivia saying good kisser can see why you liked him followed by a picture of her and Bucky kissing.

—

The moment that John had reached home, he couldn't contain his tears. Something about his mother's round features and hug made him feel vulnerable. He cried into her shoulder for a while. And only explained to his mother in pieces... He couldn't quite get it all out at once so he took his time over the first week to explain. But his mom didn't see John that often as he would spend his day out on the ranch helping. She could see him get frustrated at times with his broken arm before going on his way. But she knew those bits of frustration were only reactions to what had happened in DC and not actually about the bag of pellets not opening... Or whatever little thing set him off.

For Bucky's safety... Mama Walker hoped that man never showed his face again. She'd rip him a new one. That was for sure.

When John had received the picture... He couldn't see right. Everything had spun and spiraled. He thought about blocking them all. Bucky. Olivia. Sam. the lot of them. But he didn't. Over the week, he sat on the image... Something about it wasn't right. Then he realizes it's the cap. Bucky had lost that cap. It makes him skeptical...confused... and he isn't sure what to do with any of those feelings.

Notes:

This will be the final chapter for awhile. Hope you enjoyed it.

Notes:

I want it to be known I am not a Veteran. I mean no disrespect in my portrayal.