The Roommate

Work

The feel of his warm chest and cool left arm was so soothing and a great way to fall asleep but when morning came it was time to get back to the real world. Nights and weekends seemed to be the only time you felt joyful anymore.

"You okay?" Steve noticed you solemnly walking in on Thursday. Kicking off your shoes and falling on the couch. 

"Yeah," you sighed, turning around to face him in the kitchen. Obviously lying, Steve stopped making his sandwich and came over to you.

"What's going on?" he put on his Dad voice and crossed his arms.

"Nothing, I'm just happy to be home,"

"Bucky!" Steve called out.

"No-"

"Come out here!"

"Steve don't-"

"What's going on?" Bucky came into the living area with his wet mop hair and towel around his waist. You sat upright in front of Steve, hoping he'd shut up; not in the mood to talk about your terrible day. 

"How'd you used to get people to talk in the war?"

"Who's our subject?" Bucky approached, knowing that annoyed look on your face. Steve just nodded down to you, then the one armed man stepped back, "what? what's going on, doll?"

"Nothing!" you stood, "I'm fine, I just had another bad day. That's all,"

"Another?" Bucky pried.

"That'll be your fifteenth bad day in a row, right?" Steve frowned, worried about you. You just shrugged, hoping they'd drop the subject. You tried squeezing between them to get to the bathroom but failed.

"Sit," Bucky guided you to the couch. He sat on your left while Steve was on your right. Both men put a comforting hand on your thighs, "tell us about your day," he requested.

"Guys, it's not needed-" you began.

"It is. What happened?" Steve asked.

"I just-I don't like where I am right now. My boss is a dick, my colleagues are worse...I didn't get that promotion," you admitted. Steve's hands began drawing on your back.

"I'm so sorry," Steve knew you were working harder these past few months in preparation for this application. 

"I was telling the truth. I'm just so happy to be home," your head rested on Steve's shoulder. 

"You should talk to Sam," Bucky spoke, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Why?" you spoke quietly.

"He works for this company that helps war vets-"

"I'm not really into cleaning up old men diapers," you joked and half-rejected the offer. Bucky shook his head and chuckled.

"No, no. Nothing like that, you'd be his personal assistant. He's been bitching about his current one, Leslie, for a while now,"

"I don't know if I should just give up my job,"

"You work in retail with no health benefits or insurance. Sam offers that and more, like job security and you can wear whatever you want. You don't need to keep wearing these weird polos that make you really sweaty," it sounded enticing but nepotism isn't fair.

"Just consider it, hand in your resume and see if you get a callback," Steve suggested. Your shoulders dropped, it would be nice to have a change. 

"Okay. Yeah, that sounds really good actually. Thank you," you kissed the boys on their cheeks.

*