(hahhaa good)
Steve flopped tiredly onto the couch, rolling over to face his troubled Bucky. "What's on your mind?" He muttered against the gray couch cushions. Sam was busy now, preparing some type of meal. It's too late for lunch, too early for dinner.
There might be a dinner meeting for the Avenger's tonight– Shit! I forgot that was tonight. Steve internally groaned at the thought.
Bucky shook his head a little bit. "Nothing. I just remembered…whatever happened to Peggy?" he asked slowly. "I remember you danced with her, on the warfront." Looked at her like she was the only person in the world, and I…I was…jealous? But why?
"Peggy?" Steve questioned, his face forming a small smile, "She's still around, believe it or not. Got a family, too." He felt a little bitter at the thought, sometimes wondering if the ending he chose was really the right one. He could have been a grandfather by now– and even though his love for Peggy was there, it was different now: blurred by images of nostalgia and something that was once there; gone now. But with Bucky— his heart still fluttered.
Bucky nodded a little bit. "Ah. She'd be pretty old now, wouldn't she?" You told me "I'll see if she has a friend for you", but god…all I wanted was…all I wanted was to be her, because then maybe you would look at me that way, instead of at her. He frowned a little. Where had that come from??
"Yeah." Steve nodded, thinking back to his visits with her, Peggy remembering a little less every time. "Her memory is…" He shrugged, feeling a little pained, crossing his arms, "Not the best. –But I met her kids, they look like her." The memory was happy but undertoned with…what felt like remorse, loss, for the life Steve lost and the hidden desire that died with it.
Bucky nodded slowly. "I see." And god, when you held her and you kissed her and spoke so soft that I couldn't hear…I wanted to be her so badly because I wanted you to look at me that way, I wanted you to kiss me that way, I wanted…and I knew I couldn't have it and you never even knew– He cut himself off. He didn't know where this remembered emotion was coming from, and he wasn't sure he wanted it.
"Yeah." Steve sighed, glancing at the credits rolling by on the TV like it might hypnotize him into forgetting his repressed feelings for…Bucky? No– what his mind told him he loved about Bucky.
"Nostalgia is a dangerous thing." Steve said out of nowhere, voicing his thoughts as they came, "It tricks you into thinking things were…better when some things were left…unsaid." He cleared his throat.
Bucky glanced over at Steve. "There isn't much for me to be nostalgic about yet, but…alright." he replied slowly, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair. He didn't know what to say.
"Hey Steve?" Sam called from the kitchen, kneading a ball of dough on the counter, "Your friend gonna join us tonight?"
"Uh– yeah." Steve nodded, turning to Bucky, "I mean– if you want? It's just some of us, it's a small dinner–"
"It's a big ass dinner." Sam interrupted, gesturing broadly to the counter covered in ingredients.
Bucky's eyes flicked between the two. "I'm…not sure that would be a good idea." He replied slowly. "I am not…" Normal. Hell, he had attacked Sam. He shook his head a little bit.
"Nah, come on." Sam called and nodded to himself, "We've all tried to kill each other somehow, I think. Don't worry about it." He nodded to Bucky, giving him a silent 'It's alright,' in his look.
"Yeah, Bucky. Sam's making–" Steve looked at the various ingredients and the dough sam was preparing, clueless, "Some…type of– uh…dish…?" He shrugged.
Bucky frowned a little, shaking his head again. At Steve's words, he snorted softly, a quiet laugh leaving his mouth. "Sounds appetizing." He said wryly, running a hand through his hair.
"It is." Sam said from the kitchen, "You ain't had nothing like it, I'll tell ya."
Steve nodded, agreeing with Sam even though he had no ideas of what he was making, "-Yeah, It'll be real nice, all of us at the table with a homecooked meal."
Bucky bit his lip again. "Steve, I just…I don't know." He replied slowly. "It's not…I'm an assassin. I'm not like the Black Widow; she's…making up for it. I can't even remember what the hell I did."
"You're Bucky." He said simply, "I'm inviting you, Bucky Barnes, to have a meal in the company of the Avengers. The question isn't if you should, it's if you want to. I could care less if it's ethical." Steve sighed, shaking his head.
"Word." Sam said from the kitchen, sprinkling a bit of flour on the dough.
(Sam should totally show the other avengers the picture at the meal)
Bucky shrugged agajn. "I just…" He closed his eyes for a moment. "Fine. I just…I might not stay the whole time."
(done and done! get ready for the avengers group chat to get put to good use)
Steve beamed at Bucky, glad that he was finally going to meet his friends. Sam scoffed from the kitchen, "Someone's bringing pie Rosie's," He nodded, sure, "You'll stay for the whole time. Oh and Steve– Thor's bringin' that fancy Asgardian shit that you two like."
Steve's eyebrows heightened in surprise, "You don't say?"
(lol perfect)
Bucky shifted slightly. He got up, fidgeting for a moment. He ran his hands through his hair and listened to Sam and Steve talking. He didn't say anything.
"–Bucky, hey, Thor's got this liqueur from Asgard, I had some at a party, once, and it's the closest thing we can get to a proper drink." He smiled, wondering if too much might actually get him drunk. "It's not…for humans, per se." Sam laughed from the kitchen, spanking and throwing the dough into shape.
"We only managed to get halfway through the movie–" Steve chuckled.
Bucky nodded a little. "Oh. Alright." He replied. At the comment about the movie, he shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Sorry." He shook his head a little.
"No, don't be. I fell asleep too." He smiled, giving Sam a sarcastic look that told him to keep it to himself. Sam shook his head and wiggled his phone in the air. "Hm, well I guess there's always next time." Steve shrugged.
Bucky's eyes narrowed at Sam a little bit, then he glanced over at Steve again. "Yeah." he agreed. At the idea of next time, he shrugged again.
"So what are you making?" Steve turned to Sam, trying to make some conversation for the three of them.
"'S called gnocchi. It's Italian." Sam replied, rolling out the dough, "Kinda like ravioli."
Bucky sat down again, watching Sam for a moment. He wasn't sure he had ever had this…gnocchi…before. Or Italian. Well, he probably had. He just didn't remember.
"Do you know what time the rest of the gang are coming?" Steve asked, fiddling with the end tassels of a throw pillow.
"About six. It's gonna be an early dinner, I guess." Sam replied.
It was half-past four now, so they had some time before the rest would start rolling in. "Might take a shower– oh yeah. We're living here now…for a bit. By the way." Steve said. Sam gave him a sour look that said 'really? "not gay?'