"I cannot believe you made me sit through that for two hours," Bucky grumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Beside him, seemingly walking on cloud nine, Sam scoffed as he held the door for him to step out first.
"And I cannot believe you did. I owe Steve a lot of money," he sighed wryly, watching Bucky stalk past him. "But your face when you saw yourself singing? Priceless."
Bucky scowled, Sam falling in step with him. "What's wrong with people? Why would I sing while shooting aliens?"
"Because it's a musical, man."
"Well, it's stupid."
Sam chuckled, shaking his head at Bucky's furrowed brows. Behind them, the theater's marquee read The Battle of Earth: The Musical in bright blue, red and white letters. There had been a heated debate earlier that day between Sam and Natasha during a break between their endless meetings on the authenticity of said play. While Natasha firmly believed it was, quote, a bastardization of a tragic event, Sam thought of it as a good way to spread awareness and honor the memory of what happened that fateful day.
Steve, not wanting to actually voice his thoughts that definitely aligned with Natasha's, called out to Bucky as he passed by after a very intense conversation with Rhodey.
With his head somewhere else, Bucky slumped into an armchair in the lounge area of the compound and absentmindedly agreed with everything Sam was babbling about, months of training on how to be left alone kicking in in his immediate vicinity.
And eventually, under Steve's stunned stare and Natasha's knitted brows, Bucky ended up agreeing to go see the musical and prove it was totally worth the hype.
It was not.
It was actually a waste of time in Bucky's opinion but Sam was so damn excited that he had no other option other than meet him in front of the theater hours after.
Admittedly, his plans for the night involved moping around his apartment for a few hours and eat leftover chinese food, and for how depressing to others that sounded it was far better than seeing a man in purple spandex leggings call himself Thanos and sing an eerie redemption of Seven Nation Army.
"Should we talk about Steve's butt lift? I feel like we should. What's up with all the padding in that dude's suit?" Sam wondered, whipping his head around to meet Bucky's grimace.
"No, we shouldn't," He replied dryly, shaking his head slowly and grimacing further to deliver his point. Avoiding eye contact at all costs. "No one should. It was fucking weird."
"It was," Sam agreed pensively. "Maybe Nat was onto something. Do you think she already saw it?"
Bucky hummed in reply, dragging his feet and looking down at them as he tuned out Sam's rant.
As the late April evening unfolded, a gentle warmth began to replace the chill in the air, signaling the impending arrival of spring. The winds that had been brisk earlier in the day now carried a more soothing touch, playing with the edges of Bucky's leather jacket as he walked alongside Sam. Above, the sky painted itself in hues of orange and pink, a serene backdrop against the bustling cityscape.
Bucky took a deliberate, deep breath, savoring the air seemingly cleansing away some of the lingering unease that had settled within him after that glaringly painful play. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the city's own unique scent— a blend of exhaust fumes, food stalls, and the faint hint of spring blooms.
Home.
"I think she did. And she made me sit through it knowing damn well my character is out there with less ass than Steve's. Outrageous." Sam went on, exhaling a sharp breath as another hum from Bucky reached his ears. "Buck? You here with me?"
YOU ARE READING
The Shapeshifter - A Bucky Barnes Fanfiction
Action"I do have a plan," she gritted out and Bucky knew better than to tell her to calm down. "You wanna hear it or are you planning on gettin' in dick first and fuck Almeni all the way into the Raft?" "Jesus, that was extremely graphic." Sam mumbled in...
