Another Cliché Love Story // S. Rogers & B. Barnes

fifteen

Bucky

Bucky stared at the fancy food in front of him, a blank expression on his face as he pictured the poor lobster's last seconds of life.

Steve probably hates lobster.

Bucky ground his teeth together and gripped his fork tighter, lifting it above the dead creature and stabbing it harshly.

Steve wouldn't have liked going out to this fancy, rich place.

Bucky lifted the piece of disgusting meat into his mouth and chewed roughly, glaring at the white linen tabletop in front of him.

Steve would've taken me someplace nice, like a coffee shop–

Bucky stopped chewing and sighed inwardly, setting his fork down and swallowing. He tried not to gag.

Steve wouldn't have–won't–take me on a date, he reminded himself, glancing up from the table to see the sexy, very rich, very conceited boy sitting directly across from him, scrolling through his phone.

Bucky admired his dark green eyes and black curls that were pulled back with a beanie, his strong chin and sharp jawline. He couldn't, however, admire how, after they were done fucking last night, he had started to brag about how rich he was, thinking Bucky would be attracted to that.

He wasn't.

Bucky's mind, already thinking of last night, went to the boy–Adam–and what he did to Bucky well into the early hours of the morning.

Steve probably could've done it better.

Bucky grunted softly, restraining himself from throwing his plate against the wall in frustration. Adam noticed this, glanced up, and put his phone down, sending Bucky a confused glare.

"You don't like it," he stated. It wasn't a question of Bucky's tastes–it was a plain observation.

Bucky looked down at his plate and sighed. He finally managed a small shake of his head, wincing when Adam sighed, too.

"All the boys I take here usually like it," Adam muttered, playing with his own lobster. Bucky cringed again–another red flag was talking about exes on the first date.

If he would even go so far as to call this a date–he had woken up in Adam's huge bed, in Adam's huge apartment, to find Adam wearing a fancy outfit and demanding he get out of bed so he could take Bucky out on the town.

It wasn't even noon yet, and on a Saturday!

It's safe to say that Bucky was more than a little annoyed with his decision to go home with Adam last night. He'd had a great night, that's for sure, but now...he wanted to leave.

Bucky sighed and turned his head away from Adam, swinging his fork atop the plate of disgusting food. He observed the other couples surrounding them, having fun and laughing and–

Bucky shot up, knocking the table and making some of the fancy silverware clang to the ground. Adam stopped his pity party and glanced up at Bucky wearily.

"Are you okay, Braxton?" Bucky didn't even hear Adam; he was too focused on the couple that had just sat down at a table close to them.

He felt his stomach turn over and over and then knot itself. He was going to be sick–for the third time this week.

Without so much as a wave to the boy who probably gave him the best night of his life, Bucky sprinted out of the restaurant that was too rich, too fancy, too...not him.

He bumped into nearly every waiter and waitress on his shaky way out, too distracted to focus on what was in front of him.

He could vaguely hear Adam calling his name–correctly this time–and then someone else, another voice that made his knees shake and his heart race even faster.

Bucky wanted to turn around, to go back and apologize and explain that he didn't want to be on a date with Adam, he wanted to be on a date with him.

He wanted to, but he didn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

If he did, he would take one look at the blonde next to him, the blonde who had his heart, the blonde who had him wrapped around her tiny, manicured finger, the blonde who had cheated on him, and spill his guts.

Bucky barely made it to the large, neatly trimmed potted plant in front of the five star restaurant before he actually did spill his guts.

Gods, this damn stress. It's actually killing me.

Shaking all over, he straightened slowly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A couple staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at him glanced at the restaurant looming in front of them before whirling around on their heels and dashing back to their car. Bucky ignored them and instead started to make his way over to his own car on jelly legs when he remembered–

He didn't have a car.

Bucky came with Adam, Adam had the car, Adam was going to take him home.

Bucky groaned and turned, looking back at the restaurant. He was going to have to go back inside and ask Adam to take him home.

He sank to the ground on the curb and put his face in his hands. For now, however, he was going to try and catch his breath.

Bucky tried his hardest to breathe, to force the bile rising in his throat back down, to calm his racing heart and his raging stomach. It didn't really work.

He was about to curse the sky, the universe, and the tiny ant crawling over his shoe when he felt a warmth fall over his shoulders.

A bright, comforting warmth that he instantly recognized and wanted to sink into forever.

Bucky hesitantly looked up through his lashes, and instantly felt better. A feeling of calm washed over him, and his shoulders sagged with relief.

Steve was smiling reassuringly down at him.

Bucky almost fainted; Steve looked like an angel.

"C'mon, Buck. I'll take you home."

Bucky stared up at him in awe. Steve was an angel.

"But...what about Sharon?" Bucky forced out, shaking himself out of his daze. His voice was raspy and his stomach rolled again when he said her name, but he swallowed the bile back down and stared up at his angel questioningly.

His angel shrugged, lifted his hand off Bucky's shoulder and reached forward. The brunet stared at his angels' hand that was outstretched towards him for a few seconds before he slowly lifted his own and grabbed it.

"We took separate cars, she'll be fine. You're more important right now, Buck." At this, Bucky stumbled forward, causing Steve to jerk forward and wrap his strong arm around Bucky's waist. Steve straightened, pulling Bucky closer to him.

Bucky felt his mind go blank at his touch.

I died. I died and went to heaven and I'm in heaven right now.

He turned his face up to Steve, who smiled brightly down at him, arm tightening around his waist.

I'm in heaven with my angel.