Trying Your Luck - Bucky BarnesxOC

Part 43: Anyone Else But You

She's adorned the breakfast table with fruit, coffee, and fancy water with cucumber in it. Bucky doesn't know why she always makes such a big fuss out of breakfast, but she insists that it's the most important meal of the day, and so logically, it should be the best thing you look at all day, too. She's cut fruit into the shapes of stars, hearts, and spheres. Bucky insists she doesn't have to do all of this for him, but Shannon just shrugs and tells him it's easy and she's been doing it for years.

She's in a tank top and shorts, her damp hair flowing down her shoulders and back, while Bucky is in a pair of sweatpants drying his hair with a towel in the doorway.

He has to admit that watching her expertly slice fruit is a bit of a turn-on. He can feel butterflies in his stomach as he watches her. Bucky gulps. Is this a thing? Is he really into this? Sure, he has a lot more exploration to do in the bedroom, but this surprises him a little.

It's the way that she holds the knife as though it's an extension of her hand. She's completely unafraid of it. He watches her, mesmerized. Every cut is precise and powerful, yet somehow still gentle.

He loves her hands and the way her fingers wrap around the handle. When she's not looking, he adjusts his quickly growing hardness and bites down on his lip.

"Do you have a type, Bucky?" Shannon asks as she putters around the kitchen fixing the rest of their breakfast.

The rest of the buffet consists of waffles and whipped cream that she's whipped and mixed herself, pouring in a generous amount of caramel sauce to appease Bucky's sweet tooth. He loves sugar. He always has. When he was with HYDRA, they kept him on a strict diet. Food was fuel, and nothing more, they told him. And everything was bland. When he was left unsupervised on missions, he would stuff his face with candy, fruit, and pastries as a quiet "fuck you" to his superiors. They never understood why his blood sugar was so high when he got back.

Now that he's free, he can eat all of the sugar he wants. And he does. Shannon is more than happy to provide it.

Bucky pulls himself from his own thoughts and blinks, trying to process her question. He's tempted to say women who can hold a knife, but he's not sure the joke would go over well.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, type of person you would go for."

He chuckles.

"That's a loaded question."

And one that might get her tiny fists flying if he doesn't answer it properly. She laughs.

"No, it's not! And you can't just say me and think you're getting out of this discussion."

Bucky sighs.

"Okay, what are the parameters?"

"If you walked into a bar and saw someone you thought was attractive, what would they look like? Gender doesn't matter, by the way, since you and I seem to be..."

"Yeah. What was that word?" Bucky asks. "You used it in the barn when you were talking about Candice."

"Bisexual," she reminds him.

"Right. Yeah." He frowns and twists the towel in his hands. "I like blondes and redheads... and brunettes."

"So, every hair color," she chuckles.

"I just like the person," Bucky replies. "If the person is good looking, interesting, and funny, it's not hard to fall in love with them."

"But what attracts you to them?" She asks. "For me, it's the eyes."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she whispers. "I took one look in your eyes and I was head over heels, Buck."