Work Text:
Steve's really not sure when it started, but coming home to find his cat, Natasha sprawled out across the floor with an intricate pink flower crown on her head had become a regular occurrence. So it was a strange sight to see her without it one afternoon.
Steve's become accustomed to Nat running off after breakfast every morning. She wasn't exactly a street cat, but since this apartment building was pet friendly, she had no problem strutting around the halls and into other people's homes. And Steve's not worried or anything, because he knows that if any of the residents were catnappers, then Natasha would be long gone by now.
No; he's just curious, and grateful. This mystery flowercrown enthusiast was like a second owner to Natasha - they seemed to feed her and occupy her time whilst Steve's out working. So really, he'd just like to say thank you.
But now that there's no flowercrown this time, he's worried that it may be too late for that.
Steve doesn't know of anyone moving out, but perhaps they'd kept it low key. Or they went on an extended holiday. Either way, He's freaking out, because despite her aloof mannerisms, Natasha needs company. Or at least someone to shoot her unimpressed looks at.
~~~
"No crown again, huh, Sweet?" Steve asks, concern lacing his voice at the sight of Natasha looking up at him with sad eyes. He drops his work bag by the door and reaches down to scoop the black cat up in his arms.
She purrs, and snuggles into him as he holds her tightly. Steve walks further into the apartment picking up his mail with one hand.
When they get to the kitchen, he places Natasha on the chair by the counter and turns on the TV. There's a news report about Tony Stark's latest invention on the screen and Steve scoffs, and goes to change the channel. He doesn't get to though, as he hears a faint thud, followed by a string of curses.
He rushes to the door, leaving Natasha in the kitchen, cleaning herself, unaware (or uncaring).
"What's going on out here?" Steve says as he opens the door. There's no one out there as he looks out, but then he looks down, and he sees a figure on the floor, picking up a large box.
"Nothing, sorry. Just moving stuff from my car." The man looks at him, and he recognises him instantly.
"James, right?" Steve says, walking out to help his neighbour, "Lemme help you."
"Thanks," James smiles, "Call me Bucky."
"So what's with the box?" Steve asks as they lift the object. He can't help but notice the attractive tattoos littering Bucky's arms, particularly the sleeve of silver. Like metal, Steve thinks, cool.
"Just moving some stuff from my old studio to a new one." Bucky says, kicking open the door to his apartment, "I was away for the week, clearing it out."
"Musician?" Steve asks, intrigued. Probably punk rock, Steve guesses, based on his tattoos and hair.
"No, artist."
Steve isn't surprised exactly, but he's impressed and a little giddy.
"Really? Me too!" He say, a little too excitedly.
"No way! Would I have seen your work?" Bucky's just as happy apparently, his face lighting up in a beaming and beautiful smile.
"If you read the 'Daily Fix' I'm an illustrator for their 'Star-Spangled' series." Steve grins a little sheepish.
"Wait, that's you?!" Bucky exclaims after they lower the box onto the floor, "I love that comic strip!"
"Really?" Steve blushes furiously, "Thank you!"
Bucky grins cheekily, completely undermining his bad boy vibe.
"No problem." He winks at him.
Steve is sure he swooned.
~~~
The next day, at 5pm, Steve enters his apartment to find it empty.
He tries not to overreact, sure that Natasha was only running late, probably still asleep at her other owner's house.
Except she never oversleeps. The only thing Steve loves more about his cat than her overly-intuitive nature, is her amazing efficiency, particularly with time keeping. She might as well be a government assassin.
So it takes all of 15 minutes for Steve to stop pacing and go out to find his beloved cat.
He walks down the halls for a few minutes, looking to see if Natasha was hiding around any corners, before he goes door to door, seeing if he can find her secret owner.
He stops at Bucky's door.
He doesn't expect him to have her, somehow Bucky doesn't seem like a cat person... Or a flower crown person for that matter. But he knocks anyway.
"Steve!" Bucky exclaims as he sees his new blond friend. He's shirtless, and Steve has a really hard time keeping his eyes trained on Bucky's own pretty grey ones.
The brunette seems to notice and leans against the doorframe, arms folded over his broad chest, emphasising his impressive muscles.
Steve clears his throat, he has a job to do.
"Uh, hey Buck, I'm lookng for- Nat?!" Steve interrupts himself as he sees his cat, flowercrown and all, walking out past Bucky's legs and circling his own.
"Nat?" Bucky says confused, "Oh, that's Black Widow. She seems to like you." He smirks at him and watches him pick up the sleek black cat.
"I should hope so!" Steve says surprised, "I've had her for 4 years!"
"She's yours?" Bucky laughs, "Of course she's yours."
"Wait," Steve starts, just now realising that Natasha, his Natasha, wears a flowercrown after walking out of Bucky's - punk rock, tattoo clad Bucky's - apartment.
He lifts it from her head, "Was this you?"
Bucky looks embarrassed and runs a hand through his long hair, "Yeah, sorry about that. I just put it on her one day and she seemed to like it. I get it if you want me to stop."
"No don't!" Steve says, too desperately, "I mean, they're lovely, and she really likes them. I just... Didn't expect..."
"Didn't expect me to be the one making pink flowercrowns for your little black cat?" Bucky says, signature grin etched onto his face again, "I'm more sensitive than you think, you should see my artwork sometime."
It makes sense. It makes perfect sense. Bucky's an artist, a freelance one; of course he's home a lot, he probably paints in the apartment all day.
Steve laughs happily, "I might just take you up on that offer." He steps closer, "I want to thank you for keeping her company. She doesn't like being alone."
"It's no problem, it's nice having someone around." Bucky tells him, stroking a purring Natasha.
"Well I'd still like to thank you."
"How about dinner?" Bucky suggests, smirking up at Steve with a mischievous glint in his light eyes.
"Dinner sounds great, but can I bring Nat?"
"Absolutely."