Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

72. STEVE: Stranger Things

           

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Bubbles coat your hands and arms. Warm, soapy water splashes out of the sink while you attempt at scrubbing away the burnt bacon grease from a pan. You try to blow a piece of fallen hair out of your face with no luck. Grumbling, you give up and let it hang there annoyingly.

"Oh," you hear the semi-surprised word come from someone behind. You turn your head to see Steve Rogers, your fellow Avenger and guy-friend, standing in the kitchen doorway. Dressed in sweaty workout clothes he's carrying a couple of empty water bottles with the intent to fill them.

"Hey Rogers." You turn the water to cold and gesture him over. "Here—I'll share."

Steve smiles at you gratefully. "Thanks, Y/N." He waltzes up to the sink, standing tall above you, and waits patiently for the first bottle to fill. You stand there still scrubbing the bakeware in the other basin. "I uh, didn't expect you to be home today."

"Oh, right. We got back this morning actually," you tell him of your most recent mission with Nat and Sam. You gesture towards the mess the kitchen's been left in. "Celebratory breakfast."

Steve chuckles. You like his laugh, but this isn't really it. He seems uncomfortable for some odd reason. "Gotcha." Quickly his eyes dart to your face. He perfectly catches the sight of your lips puckered and blowing hot air—struggling to keep that tendril of curled hair from tickling your nose. Steve, actually giggling now, reaches out to help you thoughtlessly. "Here—let me." Softly, with the gentlest hand, Steve lifts and tucks that ornery piece of hair behind your ear. His fingertips drag down your cheek on the way back down.

"Oh. Thanks." You clear your throat of the little pocket of tension that's lodged there.

Steve, realizing now that he's just done something slightly too personal, awkwardly takes a step back. "Sure. Uh, I should... I gotta call Stark. So I'll see you around?" He tucks his water bottles under his beefy, sweat-glistening arm.

You nod. "Yep. I'll be here."

"Me too, me too." Awkward Steve smiles at you one last time before turning around and leaving the room.

Confused, you shake your head down at the sink. That was certainly... an odd interaction. Sure, Steve's not the most suave of the Avengers, but he's never been like this. The last few times talking to the Captain have been nothing but normal: laughter and meaningful conversation that leaves you longing for his presence. This time? He could hardly keep eye contact with you. You can't help but feel self-conscious. Was it something you've done? You kicked his ass in training last week, but that only seems to make Steve like you more every time it happens (which is rare, but celebrated). There was that bicker you two got into over who was the best American Idol judge, but again—not worthy of any tension.

You sigh, tossing a soapy spatula into the water. A splash knocks against your chest and you're left with a giant wet spot over one boob. You groan and grunt about this for a minute before hearing your phone ring on the counter a few paces away—by the cookie jar. Drying your hands on a towel you quickly aim to grab it before the person goes to voicemail.

"Uh, hello?" It's Sam—you saw his contact picture on your screen (one where he's laying on the floor of a 7-11, absolutely smashed).

"Hey! Do you have a second?"

"For you, I have two." You lean against the counter and try to push the thought of Steve out of your mind if only for a moment to focus on your friend Sam instead.

"Cool. I need a favor."

"Okay... Should I be scared of what you're about to ask of me?" you chuckle airily into the receiver while pacing in circles around the tile.