Red White and You

|17| Furnace •5

fur•nace
/ˈfərnəs/

Печь
/Pech'/

—————

Cool water trickled down my throat as beads of sweat meandered down my face, wetting my hair and getting trapped in my beard. I wiped my brow and breathed out heavily the whole while on this sweltering mid-July morning.

The sun beat down on my back, my arms, my face and bare chest. Our shirts lay in a drenched pile on the sun bleached grass trying to get dry.

This garden ain't gonna finish itself, I thought, and it'll be good for Bucky to have something new to do. It's been years since Zemo and the last 'incident' but he still has flashbacks, nightmares and panic attacks. God, I hate seeing him like that.

Chatting with me for hours on end helps some, but having something new and almost refreshing to do will probably do the both of us some good (rather than staying in the house all day).

Even if it meant working my ass off on a blistering day like today, I'll do it. I'll do it for him.

"Thanks again, Steve," he panted, carrying a bag of soil to the newly placed planter boxes.

I smiled to myself and glanced up to my right, looking away from my miniature garden shovel, "anything for you," I replied, truly meaning it.

Our gazes met as he turned to look at me, placed the bag on the ground and kneeled down next to me. I payed mind to the dirt on his face, his chest, his abdomen. I admired those blue eyes, sharp enough to slice diamonds. His messy hair, I noticed, stuck to his face somewhat and hung over his forehead. Stubble was starting to grow in, I saw, and I was enjoying every bit of it. Every bit of the new Bucky.

Sure, the clean shaven look was good for the both of us... in 1943, that is. Now, we've been through thick and thin and it was time for a change.

I could tell he was taking me in too. Eyes wandering, hands clenching slightly, smile fading. He bit his lower lip and met my gaze again with his eyes. How is it even possible that he can mesmerize me like that with the slightest of ease?

"What?" I asked simply.

He shook his head no, "nothing," he breathed out heavily.  "It's just... we don't have any air conditioning in that house and it's hot as hell out here. Not even the goddamn fans work."

"Nothing we can do about it Buck."

"I don't know about that," he smirked.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Lemme show ya," his voice faded as he bent over to grab something. I couldn't help but look at his shorts... they stretched against his legs and, well.

"What's taking so long?" I asked walking closer. He then stood in an instant and shot me full blast with the water hose. That water was insanely cold... too many memories if I were to think about it. So I didn't.

He chuckled as I tried to block the flow of water, but it was useless. It was so odd to me that the water was so cool even while the air was so terribly hot and dry. It felt like someone was slicing my skin or I had fallen on broken glass.

"Buck! Wha— hey!" I took the hose from him and began to spray his face.

"Not fair!" He shouted through the current. His hair was soaked and it clung to his neck and face. His hands flew up to protect himself but he just ended up getting more drenched as a result. He shook his head and his hair whipped around his head, spraying little droplets around and getting his hair out of his eyes.