Leave This Town (Mechanic!Bucky AU)

Part 8

Conversation was impossible on the ten minute drive to Bucky's place. The loud thundering of rain pelting the truck's roof along with Bucky's need to concentrate on the road with very little visibility, you resigned yourself to silence. You didn't mind though. It gave you a chance to unabashedly stare at the man you hadn't seen in two years, and yet you instantly still felt that comfort and ease in his presence.

Bucky was right, he hadn't changed much. His hair was a bit longer with a few more laugh lines around his eyes, but you found that they made him even more attractive. One of your first observations, though, was the lack of a ring on his finger. That still wasn't a definitive answer to a question you had yet to voice, though.

Bucky turned off the main road and drove half a mile before he pulled in front of a small one-story house. Although he probably would have opened your door for you under normal circumstances, instead you jumped out the second the truck was in park and ran for the porch with your purse tucked under your blazer. Bucky was right behind you, quickly unlocking the door and ushering you inside.

He flicked on a light and you glanced around. The house was cozy and definitely a bachelor pad. To your left was the kitchen and dining area with mismatched chairs, to the right was the living room with a tv and a sagging couch. There was a hallway directly ahead, presumably leading to the rest of the house.

"It's not much, but it's home," Bucky uttered humbly.

"It's great," you replied with a grin. "Very...you."

Bucky smiled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He toed out of his heavy work boots and you did the same, slipping off your soaking wet wedge sandals and leaving them by the door. Bucky walked further into the house, flipping on lights and attempting to tidy up a bit. He clearly wasn't expecting company.

Picking up a shirt from the couch and kicking a stray pair of shoes into the bedroom, he then turned your way. "Make yourself comfortable. I can get towels or blankets, whatever you need to—"

As he was tidying up, you had placed your purse on the table and removed your sopping wet blazer to hang on a chair. When Bucky abruptly stopped speaking and his eyes flew to the ceiling, you looked down and noticed that your white shirt wasn't as dry as you thought. The fabric clung to you and was now see-through, showing more of your undergarments than you would like. Quickly you retrieved your blazer and hugged it against your chest.

"Sorry! Um...I should have grabbed my suitcase from the car or something, I didn't mean to..." you trailed off in regret.

Blushing, Bucky's gaze remained above your head just in case, "It's, uh...no problem. Um...do you want some dry clothes to borrow? I can throw yours in the dryer if you'd like."

"That would be great, actually," you replied, face still hot in embarrassment.

"Okay," he answered, whirling around to the bedroom. He returned with a pair of sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt, handing them to you.

Accepting the dry clothes, you still kept one hand on the blazer against your chest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. You can change in the bathroom down the hall on the left."

"Actually," you wanted to ask, but felt a bit odd about it, "would you mind if I used your shower? I've been traveling all day and now with the rain and mud..."

"Of course!" he spoke quickly. "Yeah, anything you need. Are you hungry? I can whip something up," he offered, clasping his hands in front of him as if he didn't know where to put them.

"Oh, you don't have to, I ate at the airport. I'm not sure what time that was though..." You thought back over the day filled with a blur of travel, now feeling the emptiness of your stomach.