Deep in the bowels of the Tower, there's a small room with four bare concrete walls and long strips of fluorescent lights stretching in a crooked line across the ceiling. A shabby metal table sits slightly askew, with four unbalanced chairs situated around the edges. The temperature is kept low, a chilly 55F, but even at that level most people still sweat. Everything about the room is designed to keep its visitors on their toes, off-balance and unsettled.
Along one side of the table, two super soldiers sit shoulder to shoulder.
"Interviews. What a colossal fucking waste of time, we're not gonna find someone good enough. Don't understand why you can't do it," Bucky grumbles, flicking angrily through the short-listed agent profiles. Each candidate comes highly recommended, vouched for by top brass from Nick Fury to Phil Coulson to Melinda May.
Bucky is unimpressed.
Steve is tipping back in his chair, balancing on two legs as he scrolls through his phone. Part of Bucky, the part who's jaw still stings from the kiss of Steve's fist, wants to kick the legs out from under him and watch him topple over. The other more rational part, reminds him that this is his best friend and he honestly deserved that punch.
Doesn't matter. Bucky's feeling salty.
"Don't be stupid, you know I'm no good at this shit. She needs someone with experience, and someone a little less recognizable than Captain fucking America. Besides, if you hadn't fucked this up, we wouldn't even be here," Steve reminds him.
"If you hadn't fucked this up, we wouldn't even be here," Bucky mimics under his breath.
"Excuse you, asshole," Steve snaps, letting the chair drop with a bang. "You got something to say, let's fucking hear it."
Bucky bites into his cheek so hard, the taste of blood floods his mouth. He chews on the words, reluctant to offer them.
"Sorry," he grinds out instead. Clearly not sorry at all.
"Are you gonna tell me what happened?" Steve demands.
"No," Bucky responds shortly.
"Great. If you don't talk, you don't get to be pissed. Put your big boy pants on and figure out a better way to handle this, because if you just wanna act like a complete dick, we can head downstairs and go a few rounds."
Normally Bucky appreciates the frank honesty, especially when it's aimed at other people, but fuck if it doesn't suck when it's directed at him. Scrubbing both hands down his face, he throws a pleading glance at Steve.
"I slept with her," he admits in a quiet rush, praying Steve won't hear, but knowing super serum means super hearing.
"Yeah, Buck. I kinda assumed. And?"
"And – nothing. I slept with her. That wasn't supposed to happen. I jeopardized the entire operation because I couldn't manage to fucking control myself."
"Couldn't control yourself?" Steve scoffs at the words. "Really Buck. That seriously the line you're using?"
"Yeah, asshat, that's seriously what this is about."
"Okay, so let me just summarize. You've spent weeks with each other, she told you all about her past and you told her all about yours. The two of you constantly defend each other from other people, you seem to get off on her busting your balls, you showed her your super secret apartment that only two other human beings on the planet know about, and you light up like a lovesick idiot the moment she walks in a room. So then you sleep with her and the next morning you tell her you didn't mean to do it, and you let things get out of control?"
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Safe with me
Fanfiction"You call my name and I'll run to you. I'll always come for you. Do you understand? You're safe with me." When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. One catch. The man is infuriating. Finding a way to co-ex...
