linger » james buchanan barnes AU/OC

spaghetti bolognese

The kiss was warm, soft. It was brief but Saoirse liked how Bucky smelled. They sat back, still laughing as Bucky desperately gulped to counteract the sudden dryness in his mouth. They giggled aimlessly at absolutely nothing again.

"I'm so stoned."
Saoirse laughed, her eyelids feeling droopy as if she were in a cartoon.
"I haven't seen you laugh before and it's making me laugh."
Bucky said, sweeping some hair behind his ear off his face.

Saoirse frowned a little, her laugh not faltering, but she sat back and sat up straight, suddenly self conscious. She smoothed over her dress on her lap and smiled at Bucky again.

"I like you."
She said intimately, grin still on her face. Bucky grinned back at her.
"What does that mean?"
He asked plainly.

"It means what it means."
She said back. Bucky frowned at her.
"In what way do you like me? As more than your friend?"
He chuckled at her.

"Bucky, we're not friends."
She said, her face still smiling and her eyes looking up into his so knowingly and suggestively. Bucky looked back at her, confused, but smiling a little. Saoirse stood up and left him.

-

The next day Natasha told Saoirse that she was inviting friends over for dinner, but wasn't really sure what to cook. Saoirse offered to cook some spaghetti bolognese. Natasha was glad of this. Saoirse asked her to go down to the supermarket and get garlic bread and some passata.

She stared down into the pan while she waited for Natasha. The beef was a jarring pink colour as it sizzled and became brown. She tossed a teaspoon of lazy garlic over it, stirring it in with the meat. She cracked some salt and pepper. The pasta pot bubbled peacefully beside her.

As she waited on Natasha's return, she reached in the cabinet and poured herself some red wine. It felt like something you did when you made Italian. She sat at the kitchen table alone and listened to the meat hiss in the pan behind her. Wine tasted awful.

Her phone vibrated against the countertop, startling her a little. She peered over.

Bucky: hey. up to anything right now?

Saoirse chewed on her cheek.

me: yeah i'm making dinner for some friends

Bucky: so we're just friends, then?

me: what?

Bucky: Natasha invited ayo and i over later for dinner. I assume that's what ur making?

Saoirse smiled a little at the screen as she remembered the night before with Ayo and the Peters.

me: hope u guys like spagbol

She locked her phone and faced it down on the oilcloth table. She began to place some candlesticks in the centre, lighting them. Natasha stumbled through the door, balancing the groceries in her arms. She had forgotten a bag.

Saoirse smiled as Natasha chuckled at herself, spilling the ingredients out onto the table. She had bought garlic bread, tomato passata, more garlic, fresh parmesan cheese and some cakes.

"Next time, make sure I leave here with a bag. That was a nightmare."
She said as she flopped herself down.

Saoirse took the passata and cut open the carton, spilling it all over the meat in the pan and turning up the heat. The sizzling became a bubbling simmering sound after a moment or two. She squeezed some tomato paste in.

"Who's coming later?"
She asked as she stirred the pan. Natasha stood up and grabbed the pot of pasta and took it to strain in the sink.

"Me, you, Steve, Bucky, Ayo and Peter."
She said as the boiling water steamed up the room.

"Which Peter?"
Saoirse asked as she blew on a teaspoon of the sauce.

"How do you know the Peters?"
Natasha asked.

"I smoked a joint with them last night."
Saoirse replied.

Natasha nodded a little.
"Peter Maximoff."
She said.

"I hope we'll have enough. I don't want to disappoint anyone. Might be a bit of a dry pasta."
Saoirse said. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Would you stop being so worrisome and put the bread in the oven."

-

People had arrived about twenty minutes later. The table was set with nice new cutlery Steve had found in a charity shop and some wine glasses. Saoirse had put wine and beer on the table just incase Bucky also didn't like wine.

To her surprise, he sat down and, with his meal, drank three glasses of red. She sipped a beer. She didn't much like alcohol with dinner.

Dinner was uneventful, just basic pre college chat, talking about what they were looking forward to and what they weren't. Peter talked about video games for a bit, but no one really engaged.

Saoirse excused herself for a smoke. She stood out in the now darker night, puffing on her cigarette and thinking about the night before. She couldn't really remember much because she had smoked the weed. She didn't feel embarrassed about anything. She knew what she'd said to Bucky. She did like him. He was attractive and funny. He was nice. She would kiss him again.

"We have to stop meeting like this."
Bucky said from behind her, his voice muffled from his smoke hanging from his lips. Saoirse smiled at him.

"How was dinner?"
She asked. He shrugged.
"Meh."
He teased.

She laughed at him, shoving his shoulder gently. A small, hollow clunk sounded. Saoirse furrowed her brows in confusion and looked up at Bucky. He winced a little.

"Yeah, sorry. My prosthetic."
He said, a little embarrassed. However, Saoirse, upon hearing the word "prosthetic" was consumed with embarrassment and regret. She kept a straight face but her cheeks were hot. Luckily it was dark.

She looked down to Bucky's hand. She hadn't noticed it being a prosthetic, but there it was. It was a grey plastic with all the little finger joints.

"Yeah, sorry. I'd assumed you'd been staring at it this whole time but just didn't say anything."
He laughed a little.

"No, I'd not noticed. You don't have to apologise, it's not your fault. Sorry that that happened to you. Sorry for punching it."
Saoirse said, looking at his face a little. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.

"It's okay. A little comforting, actually, that you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah."
She said back. It was silent for a moment.

"I like you too, you know."
Bucky said as they both stared up into the window, watching Peter and Ayo dancing and laughing.

"That's good then."
She said, not moving her face away from the yellow window. He turned to look at her.

"What now then?"
He asked.

"Does it matter?"
Saoirse asked, looking at him.
"Let's just wait and see."

"Okay. That's cool. Do you want to go inside and dance with me?"
He asked, trying to conceal a small, cheeky grin.

"Yes. I would."