barebone witches » bucky barnes | ✓

XXII

twenty-two

(—and so time marches on)

MAEV BAREBONE-BARNES ducked, a knife flying through the space where her head had been seconds before. Her eyes narrow and she lunges forward, sweeping her left foot out and nearly succeeding in tripping James. He stumbles but regains his footing just as she throws a punch, his metal hand wrapping around her closed. His grip was firm but gentle and he pulled on her arm, sending her into his chest. He wraps his right arm around her waist, grinning down at her.

"Gotcha."

Maev narrows her eyes playfully and James leans down, their lips brushing lightly. His grip loosens on her slightly and she hooks her leg behind his knees, pulling with her leg and pressing her weight forward.

The two fall to the padded ground and Maev pins James's arms to the side, smiling widely down at him, "Gotcha." she mimics him, her braid falling over her shoulder, pieces of her bangs falling out of the bobby pin that had held them securely for most of the spar. James smiles back up at her and Maev can't help the warmth blossoming in her chest. It had been nearly three years since they'd started dating and she was still in awe every time she saw him, feeling a bit like a little girl with her first crush.

Her knees rest on the sides of his waist and she lets go of his wrists, leaning down on her forearms to kiss him sweetly. A disgusted noise comes from behind them, "C'mon guys, do you really have to do that in the training room? This is a communal place."

Maev lifts her left hand, still kissing James, and flips Sam off.

"There are children present!" Sam chastises her as she finally slides off of James, the two getting to their feet.

An offended, "Hey!" sounds out from across the room where Peter Parker is sitting, his hair damp with sweat and a water bottle hanging loosely in his grip. The teenager frowns in Sam's direction, "I am an adult you know."

Sam snorts, "Eighteen isn't that old, Queens." Despite Peter's best efforts to get everyone to call him Peter, Pete, or even Spidey, Steve's nickname for him had stuck.

"I'm an adult," Peter stresses, making the young man sitting next to him snort.

"Saying it like that isn't going to help you much," Harley Keener mutters, fingers flying across the laptop perched precariously on one leg. While everyone else was wearing some form of exercise clothes, the twenty-year-old was wearing ripped black jeans and a gray long sleeve shirt, earbuds hanging around his neck and an assortment of technology spilling out of the backpack at his side.

James's fingers intertwined with hers and as Peter starts arguing with both Harley and Sam the two make their escape, quietly exiting the training room and parting ways as they went into the locker rooms to change.

Maev exchanged her workout clothes for a pair of black skinny jeans and a mauve colored sweater Peter had bought her for her birthday because "Mauve and Maev are so similar!". She then pulled on a pair of black combat boots, lacing them tightly, and reaching up to unravel her hair from the braid. She ran her fingers through the black strands before taking out the bobby pin from the top of her hair, letting her long side bangs fall naturally.