Work Text:
For once, Bucky would rather he were invisible.
The Wells's house was near-sickeningly familiar. They kept the same portraits on the walls, the same perfectly-measured distance between tables and chairs. Everything was all geometric edges with light accents. He had too many memories of these people swirling within. His only consolation was that Addison's parents had chosen to go out for the night to give her and her friends a little pseudo-privacy.
Bucky eyed the massive cake sitting proudly on the dining table.
Congrats, Grad!
There were even tiny figures of her and some of her closest friends as little cake toppers decorating the pink-and-green-iced cake. Bucky hadn't made it on the cake. He was fine with that, though. He'd lost contact with his cousin since high school, since space, since he started college a handful of semesters after the others.
A younger Bucky would have bridled at the thought of falling behind other people, especially his little cousin. Nowadays, he found he didn't have the energy anymore. Especially after he started college. It was an entire different world. So new, so strange, so exhausting.
Bucky hesitated, recognizing one of the stupid cake toppers on Addison's graduation cake. An unnaturally pale—sort of grayed-out—guy, hand-in-hand with Addison, the both of them wearing those ugly graduation trash-bag looking gowns.
Damn, Zed.
Bucky shook his head, vowed to himself when he was forced into one of those gowns, he'd find a way to sneak in some glitter, at least.
Someone cleared their throat by Bucky, and he wheeled around, his heart rate speeding. Some animalistic part of him hoped for Zed—but of course it wasn't. He was on the far end of the house, probably making out with Addison or something. Maybe they finally fucked.
No, who faced Bucky was none other than the werewolf alpha in all of her elegant and sharp-toothed glory. He'd never really crossed paths with Willa, but he could respect anyone who knew their way around an eyeliner. That was one thing about Bucky that hadn't changed.
“Hey,” she said, “been a while.”
Bucky nodded, trying to determine how he should present himself. He'd purposely toned himself down—pink suit jacket, lime green pants—and the only real thing that could give him away was his single dangling earring. But plenty of people wore earrings. It didn't have to mean anything.
He settled with, “You graduate, too?”
“Not yet.” Willa sighed, glancing at the cake. She was probably on there somewhere. “I took some time to study abroad with another werewolf pack. You might not like to know just how many of us there are.”
Well, she was right that Bucky hadn't known that.
Her gaze flicked back to him. “How have you been? You seem... different. Mellower.”
“Oh, I've...”
How did someone put it into words?
He'd stopped living under the monumental shadow of his hometown. He'd picked a smaller college, one that prided on its diversity. He was still on the cheer squad—and he should rub in Addison's face that he had won captain again—but it wasn't like Seabrook: no zombies, no monsters at all. Their team's colors were atrocious, too. Nobody should have to wear that shade of burgundy at a cheer meet.
But the freedom was something he could hardly comprehend, let alone accept. Nobody was watching him, judging him, looking from the shadows. Nobody knew what he got up to.
He'd kissed another guy, in the middle of the quad building, in the middle of the day. Nobody had even stopped to look. It was so... normal.
But Bucky didn't know how to condense most of that into words, so he just said, “I'm Cheer Captain again. I should go tell Addison.”
Willa snorted. “Not everything is about cheer, you know.”
He remembered the feel of the other guy's lips. He'd never caught his name. “Yeah. I know.”
Willa started some story about the werewolves abroad, how they formed their packs. Bucky was sort of listening, but he'd begun scanning the room. It was strange, seeing how these people he'd known in high school had transformed. Bree'd cut her hair short. Wyatt had a whole slew of tattoos up and down his arms. Eliza wore a knot of honor cords around her neck—she'd graduated early, so she must've brought them just to show off. The aliens were around here somewhere, too, and they must've changed out of their garish clothes, because Bucky couldn't immediately find them—he must have had an impact on them when they all visited space together. The only person who looked just about the same was Bonzo.
Well, wait, there was someone else who looked pretty—
Bucky caught his eye from all the way across the long room, and for a moment, he was weightless. Outer space, all over again.
Whatever else Willa said, he missed.
He'd figured Zed would've aged. He couldn't stay young and uncertain forever. But there was something about how he carried himself, something about the tightness of his eyes and the forced exuberance, that clued Bucky in.
Well. Zed had just graduated. He was one of the first zombies to ever graduate—after Eliza. He had a right to be exhausted. But beside him, Addison radiated calm pleasantries in her pale blue dress. It was just Zed who was drowning.
He held Bucky's gaze as if unable to break free. Bucky had to look away first when Willa barked, “No, not funny?”
“What was that? Thought I recognized someone.”
She rolled her eyes. “You should know everyone here.”
“Whatever.”
“I was just saying, it's funny how much everyone's stayed the same. Same people all coupled together, just grown up. Well... mostly.” She gave Bucky a knowing glance, then looked to Eliza.
Oh, he noticed, Eliza and Wyatt were on complete opposite ends of the room. Bucky squinted at Willa. “Did they actually break up?”
Willa pressed her lips together. She reached out, lightly touching Bucky's earring. Murmured, “Can you keep a secret?”
Bucky's eyes widened.
She let her gaze soften when it traced Eliza again. “She realized she wasn't into him. I... always knew who I liked.”
Oh.
Bucky lowered his tone as much as he could. “I'm... not with anyone right now, but...”
“But,” she murmured, nudged him with her shoulder. Added, “You always get so distracted when Zed's in the room. I used to think he just upset you that much, but, well... spend enough years around someone...” She tapped her nose. “There are things werewolves can pick up on that the naked eye can't, too.”
Bucky stared at her.
She shrugged, just said, “It's not weird to us werewolves. We love who we are called to love.” Her gaze fell to the zombie. “Maybe you should talk to him. I feel like he's only grown more reckless over the years. He's not like the kid we knew in school.”
Bucky gawked. “There is nothing that I can—”
Willa glared at him. “Zed is my friend. You can try, at the very least.”
Bucky's eyes trailed Zed. Just from one glance, he didn't look so bad off. But Bucky couldn't pretend, now, that he hadn't already picked up on Zed's tension.
Willa turned as Addison approached them, greeting her, and Bucky saw his opportunity to sneak away. He hadn't even said hello to his cousin yet, but part of him didn't want to. Too much was separating them from the kids they once were.
Or, well, one thing in particular, still dangling in their crosshairs.
He went straight for the liquor, where Addison had carefully lined up an arrangement of bottles and glasses by color. A rainbow. He almost laughed at the irony.
In another world, he might have been more careful, but in that moment he wanted to feel nothing and feel nothing and feel utterly nothing. He didn't want to be here, suddenly, didn't want to make small talk with these people who were mostly Addison's friends and who mostly had real reasons to dislike him.
At the very corner of his vision, he caught a silhouette he knew well, all broad shoulders and angles, and he moved clockwork-like around the table, keeping Zed at as far of a distance as he could. He'd put a line down, and he was keeping it. He couldn't believe Zed was even trying to approach him, and he kept telling himself it must be some coincidence. But it seemed every other time he looked up, Zed was gazing in his direction, if not openly at him.
Soon enough, Bucky felt himself warping. Good, good. He could stomach holding a conversation with someone like Bree now. She was so infuriatingly sweet she probably didn't even hold it against him for his utter animosity toward her way back when.
He hardly paid attention to what he was saying, just melded into the crowd, another glass in hand.
At intervals, he'd remember what Willa said, but he couldn't bring himself to actually face Zed. He kept thinking about how his damn cake topper's hand was glued to Addison's. Zed had made a decision. If that's what he wanted, then Bucky would leave him to it.
But that couldn't be what Zed really wanted.
They'd had years together in high school, sneaking away, finding solace in one another's bodies. Bucky could say in public all he wanted that Zed was perfectly happy with his girlfriend, but it would never explain those moments they'd shared in the dark. It would never explain the way Zed would cry his name, laced with need, his hands digging into Bucky's waist so hard he'd leave bruises in the morning.
Bucky didn't know how many shots he'd had by the time he bumped into Eliza.
She gave him a long look, her brows furrowed together, like she just couldn't place him. In his current state, he nearly blurted his name out for her, but then she said, “God, you've never figured out where you belong, have you?” and everything he'd swallowed that night nearly came up right there.
Bucky grabbed the nearest counter top, steadied himself. He managed to string some words together. “Fuck, Eliza. I guess you didn't hear I'm Cheer Captain of—”
“Is that really how far you can think, even now?” She shook her head. “Almost as bad as Zed.”
Did people have to keep comparing them?
Bucky itched for a fight. “Girl, you hardly know me.”
He hated the ice of her eyes, too cutting, too close. “I know that you're afraid. And I've been there, but you have to make a move eventually.”
“What the hell are you—”
A hand grazed his shoulder, one he knew a little too well.
Bucky turned and overbalanced, bumping into the counter.
And of course it was Zed. It couldn't be anyone else.
He caught Bucky before he fell, a dazed smile on his face. “Hey.”
It was the way he said it, a whisper, a secret, that caught in his chest. Suddenly he was too warm. “Long time no see, zombie.”
“Yeah. You haven't visited in ages. Not even for holidays.”
Bucky tried to avoid leaving his university, which had started to feel like this little safe cocoon in the middle of a confusing and upsetting planet. Part of him, right in this moment, wanted to run all the way back to the safety of a dorm that was his and people who knew him in ways that these high school memories never would.
He said, “College keeps me busy. You'd know.”
“Yeah... But Addison and I try to make time for what's important.”
Irrationally, Bucky wanted to punch him. “That's great,” he spat. “I'm glad you're putting your loved ones first.”
Something like hurt flickered across Zed's face. Great. Bucky hoped it hurt. But when he spoke, Zed was too close, too soft. “Bucky...”
“Don't.”
He reached out and he laid his hand on Zed's chest, and he pushed him, not enough to hurt him, not enough to even bump him into Wyatt, who stood a couple paces behind them. Just enough to leave a message.
Then Zed leaned down, ignoring Bucky's hand, blocking out the rest of the party. His breath, Bucky noticed, smelled like booze. Bucky's couldn't be much better.
But Zed was close and hot and everything Bucky had wanted just a couple of years ago, and Bucky hadn't seen him in so long, and his heart was racing against Bucky's palm, and god, he was still so beautiful—
—and Bucky ripped his hand off of Zed's chest and strode away.
He couldn't—He couldn't drive home, like this, but he could walk to his parents' house, could crash for the night. He thought he'd made plans to see them again, anyhow. Well, if they were even home. If they'd bothered to remember Bucky was in town. It didn't matter. He just needed out of this house, needed to be as far away as possible.
“Wait,” somebody's ghost called behind him.
Bucky had to stop in the entryway to remember how to put on his shoes. The effort it took him to crouch was enough to keep him on the floor a few seconds longer than it should've.
Enough time for Zed to catch up to him.
Real panic laced his tone. “Hey, hey—You don't have to go. The party's barely started.”
Bucky waved him off. “I'm going.”
“You haven't even said hi to Addison.”
“Addison,” Bucky echoed.
Fuck, he should say something to his cousin. He couldn't exactly enter and exit her party without even acknowledging her.
He wasn't mad at her like he was in high school. A lot of that had been misplaced. A lot of Bucky had been misplaced, in high school. Maybe if he and Zed hadn't done so much fucking hiding, he could've been any better off.
Bucky struggled to his feet. Zed swooped in, helping him. Bucky's shoes still weren't on.
“Hey,” Zed murmured, and Bucky hated how his voice made Bucky's stomach drop, “let's just talk. Okay? I just want to talk with you. It's been so long.”
Bucky sighed. “Fine. We can talk.”
He led Bucky upstairs, where the party fell away and Bucky's memories of this damn house came into sharp relief. He saw the media room where he and Addison used to play video games together, what felt like a lifetime ago. The large windows with the window seats they'd sit in. Addison's room, down the hall.
Something about her room, about the hallway, about the past, caused Bucky to sink to the ground, right there, in the middle of the corridor. “Oh, okay,” Zed said, sitting beside him.
The silence held its breath between them.
Finally, Bucky leveled him with a stare. “What? You wanted to talk.”
It was quiet here, uncomfortably so. Still, they were in the house, and anyone could theoretically interrupt them.
“Yeah, I just...” Zed drummed his fingers on the floorboards. “I-I don't know what to talk about. I haven't seen you in so long.”
“How about college, for starters.”
Zed latched onto that bait like a life raft. “Yeah! How's college, man?”
Bucky shrugged. “Different.” Then he lowered his voice. “I met someone.”
“You...” He didn't think he was mistaking the waver in Zed's tone. “You did?”
Maybe Bucky wanted to make him jealous. “Yup.”
“O-Oh... How is it?”
“Great. We can do whatever we want, wherever we want.”
He was playing up the truth a little, but it was true he'd kissed a guy, and he was sure he'd kiss more. Something about sitting here with Zed made him feel like he had power, like he was holding fire in his hands.
Zed stared at him a moment, swallowed hard. “That sounds amazing. I'm happy for you.”
“Yeah. You can't even imagine how good it feels to be honest with another person like that.”
Zed blinked. Looked like that smarted. “Bucky, I—”
“How's your perfect relationship going, Zed?”
Maybe he still wanted to hurt Zed.
“I...” Part of him regretted it when Zed hesitated. “W-We're... good, um, we could go anywhere now that we've graduated... still figuring out, uh, where we want our lives to...”
Bucky blindly hated him in that moment. “You sound so fucking happy.”
“Bucky...”
He rounded on Zed, crouching in front of him. “What's your end goal, Zed? Are you going to stay with her forever? Stringing the both of you along?”
His eyes were wet. “I don't...”
“Are you happy yet? When will you be? Got that scheduled somewhere in your perfect life, too?”
“Bu-Bucky—”
Bucky took him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall, and he let out a gasp so loud Bucky was certain everyone in the house heard it.
But five seconds passed, ten, thirty, and no one crept up the stairs to check on them.
Zed was staring at him, mesmerized, horrified, flushed and sweating and leaning almost imperceptibly toward him.
Bucky's lips ached.
Oh, shit.
Zed gazed at him, guiltily, hungrily. “Y-You're—You're seeing some—”
“Not at the moment.” Bucky's hands dug into Zed. “I just wanted to see how you'd react.”
“Bucky,” he whimpered, and Bucky couldn't bear it, “Bucky, Bucky,” and he pushed Zed again, harder, his back thudding the wall, and Zed looked on the verge of tears, “Buck—”
Bucky silenced him with his mouth.
They found the nearest door with a lock and shut themselves inside. Zed was so overwhelmed, trembling the whole way, but as soon as Bucky let go he started crying out again, like the bleating of some fucking baby animal. And Bucky couldn't take it anymore, not until he'd wrenched off his clothes and planted Zed down on the bed and fucked him senseless into silence.
And how Zed squirmed, gasping, wild with lust. How he quivered with the feel of Bucky's dick inside of him, growing first comfortable, then desperate.
Bucky hated how handsome he was. Just for once, he wanted Zed to be ugly to him. Zed, who couldn't make up his goddamn mind, who said one thing and then wordlessly asked for another with his hips, who only ever looked real mid-orgasm, his body clenched as if on a precipice, his black eyes so wide, so warm.
Then they finished, and Zed rolled over and immediately threw up on the comforter.
The alcohol in Bucky's own stomach roiled. He supposed he was lucky he didn't do the same.
Bucky had to half-drag him to the bathroom, wash up his face, get him perched by the toilet just in case. Then he undressed the bed of its sheets, hastily threw his own clothes back on, and left the room.
It was only as he stared down into the pink comforter that he recognized whose bedroom they'd had sex in.
Christ.
As fate would have it, he ran into her on the way to the washing machine. He hadn't needed her to point it out, of course—he'd been in and out of her house like a stray cat when they were kids.
...Part of him missed what they used to have.
Obviously, Addison recognized her own bed sheets. She tailed him to the washing machine, watched him throw in the soiled sheets. Only after he'd slammed shut the door did she ask, “What happened?”
It was so easy lying to her. He'd only been fucking her boyfriend for years. “Zed spilled something on your bed. We were talking in your room.”
“My room?”
“He insisted. I dunno. You know how he feels about you.”
She didn't, but whatever.
Bucky glanced at his cousin. Addison was watching her sheets swirl around in the machine, suds of soap slowly blotting them out from the glass screen.
For the first time, Bucky felt a low, tugging ache in his gut at the sight of her.
What he and Zed were doing was shitty to her. It wasn't her fault Zed wasn't really attracted to her—not in the way she was to him. It certainly wasn't her fault that Bucky was knowingly fucking him. He wondered if Zed and Addison had ever even seen one another shirtless, or if this was just one other thing Zed gave Bucky without another glance at his girlfriend.
Goddammit, Zed. Goddammit.
For a moment, that familiar self-hatred came rushing back through Bucky. He'd come so far, and now he was back here, washing his cousin's bed sheets after he and her boyfriend had fucked on them.
Quietly, Addison said, “Zed's so sweet. Poor guy. I don't know what he'd do without me.”
Jesus. Bucky didn't either. “You might want to wait before you go up there. He doesn't look too good.” When she tried to say something, he interrupted. “I'll check on him. Go enjoy your party.”
She cast him a grateful look.
Then she reached out, and Bucky's skin prickled where her hand brushed his forearm.
“Thanks, Buck. You've really grown up a lot, you know?”
Bucky raised his chin, purposely looking down his nose at her. “Who's the elder cousin here?”
She laughed, a small, tinkling sound. “Yeah, yeah.” Paused. Squeezed his arm, gently. “We should catch up.”
A lump formed in Bucky's throat. “Yeah, maybe later. When I'm not—you know.” Fucking your boyfriend brainless.
Addison smiled. “Alright. Just find me when you're done, okay?”
He watched her stride back down the hall. When she turned the corner, only her shadow lingered, then, soon after, nothing.
Bucky turned back to the bed sheets, a churning whirlpool of pink.
...He'd told himself he wouldn't do this again.
Bucky breathed in. Breathed out. His heart clenched.
Then he crept back upstairs, silently slipping through the raucous sounds of the party, and he went to go clean up the last of his mess.