Shades of Red | Bucky Barnes

seventeen

Sunlight peeked through the gap in the sheer curtains pulled shut across Damian's living room windows. They stretched far enough into the apartment to land on his kitchen island, reflecting off the empty plate resting on the counter. He had his back to the light, stirring some eggs around in a pan while waiting sipping his coffee. He hadn't gotten much sleep, no surprise there, so he figured he might as well make breakfast for himself. He turned off the heat, carefully sliding the eggs off the pan and onto the plate before moving to make some toast. It was a bland breakfast, but it was all he had in his apartment at the moment and he really didn't feel like going out to buy anything else.

There was a knock on the door just as the bread popped out of the toaster, and he was almost tempted not to answer it. It could have easily been one of his nosy neighbors, and it was early enough that if he stayed quiet, they would think he was still asleep.

They knocked again and he let out a loud sigh of defeat, abandoning his toast in favor of unlocking the door. He opened it, frowning at the person standing in the hallway. They were the last person he expected to face so early.

"Hey," Bucky greeted awkwardly, rocking on his heels. He sighed as well, shoulders slumping with the motion. "I wanted to apologize for last night. I was out of line, you just asked a question and I shouldn't have stormed out the way I did..." He hesitated briefly. "I just...I thought I was past everything that happened- with Steve I mean- but whenever someone brings it up I can't help but shut down and just...push everything away." He paused, then corrected himself. "Everyone away I mean." 

Damian regarded him for a moment, taking a slow sip of his coffee.

"I'm not mad." he reassured. "I'm not saying you were completely in the right, but I pushed the wrong button, you weren't ready to talk...it happens." He shrugged, smiling a bit. "You were right though, you shouldn't have to talk about your past when I don't willingly talk about mine."

Bucky stared, expecting the other to slam the door in his face, insult him in Russian, or English, or lash out or something. He took a tentative step forward, still expecting the other to explode at any given moment.

"So..." He hesitantly reached out. "We're good?"

Damian smiled behind the rim of his mug. 

"We're good," he promised.

Bucky returned the smile, gently grabbing the hem of Damian's t-shirt and using it to pull him close. Damian raised an eyebrow, one hand moving to gently grab Bucky's arm as he leaned in a bit.

"You know," Bucky mumbled, so close to the other their noses were brushing. "This doesn't seem very...no strings attached." He joked.

Damian shrugged his shoulders, spinning around and making a move to go back to his forgotten breakfast.

"Well if you're not in the mood-"

Bucky made a noise of protest, wrapping his arms around Damian's waist and pulling his back against his chest. He leaned down, lips brushing against Damian's ear as he spoke quietly.

"When am I ever not in the mood?"

Damian grinned, bringing his free hand up to run his fingers through the back of Bucky's hair, tugging lightly.