Who Am I? » [Stucky]

31. Starbucks

Bucky frowned and stared down at the table contemptuously, holding a small grudge against the attractive bastard.

"And you will, one day. I just can't say when that day is yet." Steve couldn't persuade his grumpy friend to look up with his kind and beguiling words and reached across the table and affectionately placed his hand atop of Bucky's metal one, resting on the table top.

At the pressure and weight of Steve's hand, Bucky's head snapped up and he stared back at Steve, slightly startled at the gesture. He only wished he could feel the temperature of Steve's warm palm, feel his skin brushing against his own. He mentally scolded himself for not leaving his real hand on the table - as if he could have somehow known - and made a mental note to put his real hand forwards in future.

"Please don't be upset. I really would like for you to meet them."

"I don't see what their problem is with me..." He wanted so badly to snap his hand away to show his frustration, but he could barely even keep up his arrogant and insubordinate act; his mind was screaming at him - Steve was touching him.

"Bucky look..." Steve sighed, removing his hand and putting his head in his hands.

Bucky felt at a loss without Steve's hand atop of his and reeled his arm back and rested it in his lap, massaging the metal where they had made contact; thinking about how Steve had touched him there, smiling secretively.

"I really do want them to meet you... But you have to understand that its difficult for me with you... With what you were before now... With the things you did. Natasha wouldn't be happy to see you if I'm honest-"

"Natalia," he corrected. "Has never been happy to see me, even when we dated..." He came out and said it quickly; in some childish attempt to make Steve jealous. It was true, but he had decided to try and keep that detail hidden up until that moment.

"And Tony-" Steve stopped, mid-sentence; caught off guard by the abrupt announcement. "Sorry... You did what?"

"Natalia and I dated..." He shrugged casually, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. He was regretting the words that had left his mouth already. "I mean..." He looked down in shame; mentally slapping himself repeatedly for saying something stupid. "It was brief and didn't last because I was put into cryo so frequently... As you can imagine..." He raised his eyebrows and glared at the table again.

There was a tense silence that settled between them like a mist.

"I can't imagine you and Natasha together..." Steve twisted his lip. It was an odd thing to imagine - two of his best friends, together, but no more.

"It was a different life..." Bucky waved it off, trying to move the subject along.

"So you two-"

"I don't really want to talk about it," Bucky snapped.

Steve put his hands up and flopped back in his seat, pushing his feet forwards beneath the table and his legs seemed to sprawl out side-by-side by Bucky; one leg in between, one leg outside. Bucky could feel the fabric of their skinny jeans touching one another's and tried to focus instead of being fixated on the tingling feeling where their legs brushed beneath the table.

"Fair enough..." Steve muttered. "But again... I don't know how I would begin to explain the fact that you're, A) Alive and B) Living with me."

"So what, you're just going to keep me hidden in the flat; locked away from the world?" He accused him with a cocked head and narrowed eyes.

"No! Not at all..." He leant forwards, trying to maintain composure and remain calm tempered. "We're out aren't we?" He pleaded with his eyes and tried to evoke sympathy from Bucky.