𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 - 𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼 [1]

27. {The Last Stop}

In Barnes's cabin, both of you are now attired in tactical gear, preparing to fight your way off the train. Two additional encounters during your journey down the corridor confirmed your suspicions—seemingly ordinary travelers suddenly turning hostile, unleashing gunfire and hurling anything they can at you in their frantic pursuit of the key. It's become evident that this train is brimming with operatives, specialists contracted by various organizations, governments, and agencies, all hell-bent on seizing the drive from you. What Barnes had warned you about rings true—everyone covets this drive, and the moment they caught wind of your presence with it, everyone converged on this train.

You secure the final button of your cargo-style pants, pulling down the long-sleeved shirt without bothering to tuck it in, mindful of the urgency of the situation.

As you smooth down the hem of your top, you turn your gaze towards Bucky, who sits at the edge of the bunk. His legs are slightly spread as he meticulously counts ammo, ensuring each weapon is loaded and functional. He's just as prepared as you are to make your way to the front of the train and secure your escape.

You study him intently, noting the furrow in his brow as he concentrates, the way his tongue occasionally peeks out from between his lips in deep thought. His eyes exude an unwavering determination that nearly dispels any lingering doubts. Facing a train filled with specialists seems daunting, but if Barnes is resolute that you can succeed, you're determined to give it your all.

Sensing your pause, he glances up at you, the final bullet clicking into place as his eyes rake over your form, assessing your appearance with a hint of amusement. A sly smirk curls his lips. "You in those damn pants, Y/N," his voice takes on a teasing growl, implying something more beneath his words.

You tilt your head curiously, a small smile dancing on your lips. "What?" you respond innocently, though you're well aware of the meaning behind Bucky's remark. You've noticed him discreetly checking you out on numerous occasions throughout your shared careers in these said pants, but you've never acknowledged it.

Bucky's smirk widens into a playful grin as he sets aside the ammo and rises from the bunk, stepping closer to you with deliberate ease. "Just saying, those pants have a way of distracting a man, especially in the heat of battle," he replies, his tone laced with playful insinuation.

You suppress an eye roll, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. His hands find their way to your behind, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You distract yourself, Barnes," you murmur.

Bucky's grin broadens, his eyes twinkling. "Can't help it," he murmurs, leaning in so that his breath brushes against your ear. "You're a hard woman to ignore, especially in these."

You chuckle softly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "Focus, Barnes," you whisper, although your own resolve wavers as his teeth graze your earlobe.

He starts to kiss down your neck, his lips trailing a path of heat that makes it difficult to concentrate. Your hands instinctively reach up, tangling in his hair. For a moment, you almost give in, letting the intensity of the moment sweep you away.

But then, with a swift motion, you lightly slap the back of his head. "I said focus," you repeat, your tone firm despite the playful edge. "We have a job to do."

Bucky pulls back slightly, his brow furrowing in a mix of amusement and disbelief at your unwavering resolve. "Damn, you're tough," he mutters, still close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath.

You give him a playful smirk, raising an eyebrow. "Someone has to keep us on track," you reply, your voice carrying a teasing edge.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head before gently slapping your behind, his hand lingering for a moment longer. "Alright, alright," he concedes, stepping back and running a hand through his hair to refocus. "Let's go over the plan one more time."