I've Got you Under my Skin

Chapter 2

"Feeling better?" you asked, breathless, while you clambered off Bucky's lap.

He let his head fall back against your couch and ran his hands through his hair, a long sigh leaving his lips. Basking in post-coital bliss, he kept his eyes closed for a little while longer so he could pretend that everything was fine.

The answer to your question was complicated. Physically, he felt better, though it was most likely due to the dopamine coursing through his veins. But he still felt emotionally raw.

A few hours ago, he had join his parents and sisters for their weekly Sunday lunch. He didn't particularly like family brunches.

His mother had been nagging him for years to settle down and have children. He often evaded her questions. "Excellent dinner, ma'!" or "Did you know Becca bought a $1500 rug?"

This time, though, his father had been the one nagging him.

"You're a kindergarten teacher with a Master's degree in mathematics, son! You're wasting your life. Remember when you wanted to work for NASA? I had such high hopes for you, kid, instead you're doing a woman's job."

Bucky had stormed out of the house, ignoring his mother and sisters pleas to stay, and drove to the only place he knew where he could unwind.

You had not been surprised to see him. He stared at you, breathing hard, a muscle in his jaw ticking. You knew his anger wasn't directed at you. Clearing a path for him, you wordlessly invited him in. He needed to release his anger and you were more than happy to help.

"I'm all right," Bucky finally answered, opening his eyes. He watched you pull your pyjamas bottoms up.

"Awesome," you said blankly, "ok, well, I won't keep you."

He removed the condom and deftly tied it, dropping it on the floor for disposal later. He quickly pulled up his jeans and buttoned them.

"You busy?" he asked, nodding toward the open laptop and the stack of papers on your kitchen counter. "Sorry, I should've called."

You snorted. "Nah, it's fine. I needed a break anyway."

"Always happy t'help," he said.

The room fell into a strangely comfortable silence while you both adjusted your clothes, trying to look more decent. You noticed that he wasn't wearing his usual shit eating grin. He looked disturbed.

"Barnes," you said with a small sigh. "Your father's an idiot."

Bucky frowned at your words. "I –I don't remember tellin' you 'bout him. How'd you know?"

"We all know you visit your parents every Sunday. When your mom pisses you off you usually complain to Steve. But when it's your dad, you always come here."

He stared at you, wide-eyed. "You're very observant."

"I've become quite good at reading others," you replied with a smirk. "It's what I do. I need to know what people are thinking if I want to close the deal."

"I'm sure they're happy to have you," he told you, his words genuine.

"Why, thank you." You smiled before your expression grew more serious. "Wanna talk about it? What's bothering you?"

Bucky waved a dismissive hand at you. "I'm fine," he paused. "I mean... my old man thinks I'm wastin' my time doin' a woman's job, but I'm fine."

He wasn't fine, but he didn't think you'd want to hear what really bothered him. You weren't exactly friends. So why should you care about him?

He glanced at you and found you already looking at him, your expression a combination of anger and sadness. Your eyes met his, and Bucky saw you hide your emotions behind a neutral mask. You had that in common. Don't let anyone get too close.

"Who cares what he thinks?" you said. "It's your life, not his. You have nice friends, your own apartment, a good job... He shouldn't shove his dreams down your throat. He should be happy for you. You're a functioning adult-" you smirked, "-sometimes."

Bucky sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and let a small laugh pass his lips. "Yeah, guess you're right." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to check the time. "Mind if I take a shower? I'm supposed to babysit for Steve and Peg t'night, but I'm runnin' a little late and I smell... well, like you."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, but don't use up all the hot water."

With a salute, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the water so it could get hot. Meanwhile, he removed his shirt and went over to the sink where he stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection.

He pulled out his phone from his back pocket and snapped a quick shirtless picture of himself before he placed his phone on the bathroom countertop. True to his word, he didn't spend a long time in the shower even though it felt nice and your body wash smelled incredible.

Once he was dressed, he joined you in the living room.

"I'm going to take a shower now. Close the door behind you when you leave," you said, as you walked past him, pausing a second to sniff the air. "And for the record, you still smell like me."

You disappeared into the bathroom before he could think of a good comeback. With a shake of his head, he picked up his coat and opened the front door. He then realized he had forgotten his phone in the bathroom.

Cursing under his breath, he slammed the front door closed and blew out an annoyed sigh. He had half a mind to go over to the bathroom and knock on the door, but it was useless as he could hear the water running.

Defeated, and hungry, he decided to rummage through your pantry. He opened a box of cookies and stuffed two biscuits into his mouth while he looked around your apartment. He browsed through your bookshelves, his head tilted to the side reading book spines.

You had a few knickknacks here and there, which included a landscape painting with the initials SGR in the bottom left corner. There were several framed pictures on the walls. Some of them made Bucky laugh.

He walked along the wall, looking at each photo, and leaving a trail of cookie crumbs behind him. He was surprised to find a picture of himself amongst your friends.

He looked a little younger, maybe 25 or 26, his skin was pale and he was so drunk his eyes were glassy. You often teased him because you thought he looked like a vampire and, in return, he pretended to bite your neck. Somehow, someone had captured this moment. It made Bucky smile.

As he wandered around the apartment, he realized he'd never been in your bedroom before. Your room was small, but cosy and calming. It was strangely neat: no pictures on the bedside table or on the walls, no books or artworks.

Bucky took a closer look at something that caught his attention. There was a small collection of snow globes on your dresser, and as he picked up one and turned it over in his hands, he noticed that there was no dust on them. You must really love these little things –that or you were a neat freak.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice you had finished your shower. However, he definitely heard your piercing cry before you threw an empty bottle of shampoo at him. It hit him square in the face.

"Ow," he whined, rubbing his nose.

"Barnes," you said, your voice breathless with relief. "You scared me! I thought you were gone! I heard the door."

"Yeah, but I forgot my phone in your bathroom," he explained with a crooked smile.

You tightened the robe around you. "Why the hell did you take your phone to the bathroom?"

"After sex selfie," he replied as if it were obvious.

You rolled your eyes as you crossed the room and bent down to pick up the empty bottle. You were going to say something when your eyes landed on the box of cookies he was holding.

"You went through my stuff?" you accused, snatching the box from him. It was empty. "This was my last box!"

With a lopsided grin, he stuffed the last biscuit into his mouth. "Almost as good as you."