Sweet and Sour

Chapter 4 - You're both idiots

And so begins the routine. Bucky comes in once or twice a week, clearing out half your stock each time. Sometimes he's alone, sometimes with his various men. Thor and Steve come by a lot - Thor is always overly sweet to Wanda and treats her with renewed respect under your watchful eye.

You also meet Sam, who seems to hold a similar rank in the organisation as Steve. Sam is one of the nicer ones, he's cheerful and personable - always makes an effort at small talk. Most of the others just glare at you over the counter.

You're fascinated by the dynamics, often able to gauge a man's status in the group based on how Bucky interacts with them. Some, like Steve, he listens to carefully and seems to take on board whatever they suggest. Others he just looks at with utter disdain, annoyed he even has to speak to them.

Despite your fears about becoming a 'mob' establishment, they're never anything but respectful and polite to you, Wanda and the other customers. You're certain Bucky makes sure of that. Pepper is delighted that the profits have soared since Bucky's frequent visits so you can't imagine she'd have an issue with the clientele either.

Each time he comes in he makes a beeline for you and you feel butterflies in your stomach as your heart races. He'll smirk at you as he approaches. Never quite a proper smile, but a smirk you'll take for now. The way he looks at you almost floors you every time, the intensity of those eyes is suffocating. Sometimes it feels as if he can see into your soul, see each of your silly little thoughts, raking over them and seeking out your essence. 

If you're not there then he'll ask Wanda where you are, but strangely he always seems to know when you're on shift, even if they're changed at the last minute. He starts coming in on certain days of the week and soon it becomes your highlight of those days, the exciting anticipation of knowing he'll be in soon. You'll glance up expectantly every time the bell goes knowing eventually it'll be him standing in your eyeline. 

The two of you engage in a routine now. He teases you, you tease him. Sometimes he makes fun of your mucky overalls and you'll rag on him about his tips. You're careful not to be too cheeky in front of his men, understanding where his boundaries lie. Still, sometimes you'll push them for a little excitement and he'll give you a warning look if you're being a bit overly familiar, but you can tell from his trademark smirk that he's not really fazed.

The furthest you'd gone was when he came in by himself one morning. The shop was empty bar Wanda working out back so you thought you'd really test the waters. You were on his side of the counter tidying up stock when he started playing with you about a smear of frosting you'd somehow got on your face. You'd allowed him to continue for a little while before wordlessly picking up a cupcake, sticking two fingers into the frosting and rubbing them across his cheek in retaliation.

He froze and you froze. For a terrible moment you thought you'd finally pushed him too far until he grabbed the mauled cake and tried to push it back into your face as you squealed and attempted to throw yourself backwards to get away. He was fast though, somehow ending up pinning you against the counter with his sturdy thigh holding you in place. Your breaths were short and shallow as you gripped his wrists and tried to fight him off, hypnotised by his gaze as he leaned his face closer to yours and-

Wanda came running out from the back, terrified you were hurt based on all the noises you were making. Bucky quickly released you and you shot back behind the counter, smoothing your hair and clearing your throat as you rung him up. He just grabbed a napkin and casually wiped his cheek like it was all a typical transaction. Your heart was beating hard in your chest as you sent him on his way, you could feel the heat radiating between your thighs as you calmed down.

Wanda just stared at you with her arms crossed, her face spoke for her.

Sometimes, when it's just him, you talk. No games, just conversation as you pack up his cakes. It started with idle chatter and then it somehow developed into everything from your childhoods to politics. Sometimes he stays long after you've rung him up, chatting away as he clutches his boxes, perpetually hovering by the door as if he's about to leave. You find it easy to talk to him, as if you've known him your whole life. It's always organic, simple. You forget who he is and then Steve will walk in and whisper something to him and it's like a rude reminder.