part time soulmates, full time problem

A Third Time

You rocked on your feet, staring at the door. Debating what to do. Debating whether to knock.

Debating whether to leave.

All that confidence that Wanda had instilled in you? Gone. Completely gone. The paranoid thoughts started seeping in again the longer you stared at his door.

Would he answer? Would he talk to you? You did snap at him last time you spoke, maybe he wouldn't give you the time of day? What if he was asleep and got annoyed you'd woken him up? Would he even tell you about Natasha? What if he said they were still together?

Shaking your head, as though it would shake any weakness you were feeling out of you, you turned to walk away. It would be better to do this in the daytime, you thought. Maybe with Wanda close by so that she could calm you like she had done on the quinjet.

You stopped moving when you saw Bucky leaning against the wall.

"I was wondering how long you were going to stand there for, doll." He said, his eyes soft, glistening, as he looked back at you. A sharp contrast to how you were feeling - which was now nervous and tense.

He pushed off the wall, and walked slowly towards you. Your feet felt like they were glued to the floor, unable to let you move backwards, move away from him. In just a few seconds, he was standing in front of you, looking fucking gorgeous as he towered over you.

"Why are you here?" He asked, clearly not put off from your continuing silence.

"I..." You started to say, distracted when his tongue licked his bottom lip in that habitual Bucky way. When you looked back up at his eyes, they were crinkled at the edges as he smirked.

"You told me I have no business knowing about your life. You disappeared after kissing me. Some would take that to mean you didn't want me talking to you. So you can imagine why it's confusing to find you outside my door in the middle of the night."

"You kissed me first."

"I did." He smirked. "Are you waiting for me to do it again?"

Your mouth stuttered open, and then you closed it completely and took a deep breath in. He took the opportunity to crowd your space, making you step back, turning slightly as you were desperate to keep some semblance of space between your bodies. You flinched when your back collided with his door.

He put his hands either side of your head, and leant closer. As close as he could possibly get without actually touching you.

Why did you now have the urge to make him touch you?

Bucky's finger was suddenly under your chin, tilting your face up until you were looking at him, now standing just a breath away from you. It was the only point of contact between you and him, and it felt electric, sizzling its way through your entire body. His eyes were searching yours, as though he was trying to find some kind of answer to a question he hadn't asked yet. But he was about to.

"If I kiss you a third time..." He said, his eyes looking down at your mouth, his face tilting slightly to the side like he was preparing to do it. You were hoping that the surge of heat through your body wasn't evident to him. "Will you run away again?"

You felt your throat tighten as it tried to smother the whimper that was desperately trying to come out. You wanted to sink further into the door, put some distance between you, try and get your brain working again.

"I...we can't just..." You stammered, trying desperately to get your mouth to say that you needed to talk to him first, that you couldn't just jump back into his arms. You needed to clarify what was going on, what was happening between him and Nat, what -

You froze when his finger left your chin, and his hand slid around your neck, his mouth now just brushing over yours.

"Maybe you should stop thinking about what you can't do, and let yourself take what you really want." He whispered, leaning down to your neck. You felt his hot breath on your skin, and it made you shiver.

"What...what is it you think I really want?"

"I think you were halfway there on the terrace."

"I ...I was drunk then. Too drunk. I wasn't thinking clearly." You replied, making him look back up at you.

"You weren't drunk."

"I was." You argued, trying to put a metaphorical wall between you so that you could actually have a coherent conversation with him. "I had like half a bottle by the time you found me."

His eyes darted between yours, as though he was trying to work out if you were telling the truth.

"Are you drunk now?" He asked.

"No."

"Then why can't you just admit that you wanted it too?" He questioned. "You're constantly deflecting."

"Am not."

"Yes you are, doll. I know because I used to do it too."

"You mean with Nat?" You snapped suddenly, making him frown at you. You weren't sure where it came from, why that had been your response. Clearly your brain was acting of its own volition.

Out of pure embarrassment, you pushed him off of you. Ignoring the confused, annoyed look on his face, you ran over to the elevator, smashing the button until the doors opened, repeating the urgency on the other side, looking up just as the doors started to close to see him standing in the same spot you had left him in.

When the elevator started moving, you leaned back against the wall and closed your eyes.

What a fucking nightmare situation you were in. No - what a nightmare situation you kept finding yourself in. You'd never resisted your urges so much before. You'd never wanted to. You'd also never ruined your chances at getting laid so fucking spectacularly.

When the doors opened on your floor, you didn't move. You found yourself thinking why you were trying so desperately to keep pushing Bucky away when it was fucking obvious that you were attracted to him, and he was so completely up for it as well. Sure, you hadn't had the best start to getting to know each other - knife throwing and biological weapon poisoning aren't exactly great first date material. But who's to say you even have to have a relationship with him?

If you just gave in, for one night, just one night, that wouldn't be so bad would it? Doesn't matter what him and Nat were doing. You could leave in the morning, never go back, let them talk about you however they want, and carry on focusing on becoming an Avenger. Maybe that would be okay. He wasn't exactly shutting you down, which meant that he was definitely onboard.

The doors slid shut again and you realised you hadn't moved away from the wall. You jumped forward, pressing the button to open the doors again, but the elevator had already started to move. Groaning, you just re-pressed the button for your floor, and waited for whoever called the elevator to join your joyous spiral of self-doubt, until you could circle back to your own floor.

You ran your hand through your hair as the seconds passed, already deciding that you just wouldn't engage in conversation with whoever you ended up facing.

The elevator dinged, and jostled slightly as it stopped. You inhaled in preparation, eyes still on the floor. The doors opened. You looked up.

Bucky.

It was like the universe was playing the cruellest joke on you. Joining the team was the juicy little carrot you'd fallen for, and now Bucky was the hole in the ground you kept tripping into.

The two of you were just staring at each other now. Neither of you wanted to move because you weren't sure why the other was there. But also not moving because of the fact that the other was there.

The elevator dinged. The doors started to close. Your eyes flicked to them for a second, going straight back to Bucky, wondering whether it would be him or you that would move first.

Suddenly, his hand went to the door, stopping them. It felt like time stood still.

Then he marched forwards, grabbed your face, and crashed his lips to yours.