A/N: To all my fragile little flowers, there's some mildly problematic shit in this one, so please proceed with caution.
TW: underage drinking and drug use, brief violence, and mildly dubious consent
~
Bucky had been gone for three days.
Dove had seen absolutely no sign of him whatsoever. He didn't call. He didn't stop by for meals or laundry. She didn't even see him around town. The urge to question Steve for his whereabouts was becoming more and more persistent as the days passed, but she figured the distance was for the best after their last conversation.
No one in her family seemed to pay any attention to his absence, so she thought it was safer to pretend she didn't notice either. She had only acknowledged his absence once when Sarah wondered where he'd been. Dove played along and pretended to look startled, then muttered something along the lines of "Oh yeah, he hasn't been back in a while." She spoke about him like she had forgotten he even existed. But she also made sure not to look too concerned, as if he was just a fleeting thought. As if.
She knew she should've hated Bucky after their conversation... but she didn't. After spending most of her life being ignored and misunderstood, she took extra care to listen to people. Her naturally understanding ways made her sympathize with the points he had made. He was right about one thing: nothing could happen between them. And she understood that.
Regardless, a much more compelling, stubborn side of her was trying to force her hatred for him back to the forefront of her brain. Needing to replace whatever affection she had come to feel for the guy with the longstanding distaste she held for him since she was young.
Any time Dove felt a pang of heartache over his rejection, she'd remind herself of one of his negative traits or something he had done to piss her off. Layers and layers of emotions were building inside of her. Heartache was covered with anger, embarrassment was covered with fury, and so on. Stacking these feelings to conceal that deep sadness she endured.
All of this left her to spiral a bit. She'd often find herself sitting in her window seat, whipping her head to look out the window any time she heard a car drive by, hoping to catch sight of the black BMW. Any time someone walked in the front door, she wanted it to be Bucky. Not even knowing what she would say if it were, but she just hoped it'd be him.
Trying to get herself out of the obsessive routine, she had called Mj and Peter, asking them to meet her at the bowling alley. It was already afternoon by the time she reached out, but they weren't doing any particularly exciting, so they agreed to meet her there.
Dove was riding her bike up to the archaic white stucco building. The neon sign sitting at the entrance of the parking lot flickered the obnoxious, bubble-lettered, The Lanes logo. There were a few cars outside, including Peter's.
Resting her bike just outside the front doors, she made her way inside. Her eyes scanned the noisy room that was bustling with conversation, the clacking of bowling balls crashing into pins, and music from the jukebox. In search of her friends, she looked over to the small alcove of rundown pinball machines and pool tables covered in rips, to the concession stand serving up cheaply priced junk food, landing on the lanes of varnished wood.
Mj and Peter were at the furthest lane. He was dancing back from taking his turn in the game, clearly having bowled a strike with the way he was cheering for himself. He bent down, landing an excited kiss to Mj's lips where she sat at the small corresponding table. She pulled back, laughing as she stood from her seat for her turn.
Dove was instantly reminded of why she didn't like hanging out with the couple alone. Third-wheeling sucked. Especially with a pair as undeniably adorable as they were.
After grabbing a pair of bowling shoes for herself, she wove through the other groups of people, calling over a loud, "what's up, lovebirds?"
"Hey, Dove." Peter smiled, taking a slice of the pizza that sat on the table in front of him. "You want a slice? I got half pepperoni and then half cheese, for you."
She plopped down across from him. "You're the best, I'm starving." She grabbed a slice from the box, shoving the deliciously cheesy bread into her mouth. She looked over just as Mj rolled her ball down the lane, ending her turn with a spare. "Attagirl!" Dove yelled over.
"Not my best work, but whatever." Mj shrugged, walking back to sit down beside Peter. She took a sip of her coke and propped her legs up on the open chair beside Dove.
Peter kissed Mj's cheek as he stood from his spot to take his turn. "Oh, did you wanna tell Dove about tonight?"
Her brows raised in interest, eyeing the Mj expectantly while Peter sauntered off. "There's a party at Daria's, if you wanna go."
"Wow, you telling me about a party? Since when you'd become the social coordinator of the group?"
Mj hummed, taking a bite from her slice. "Well, you've been slackin' off," she joked through a mouthful of pizza, as she covered her mouth with her hand. She quickly chewed and swallowed before continuing. "I know it's a Thursday, which is kinda weird, but Peter has the day off tomorrow so he really wants to make the most of tonight."
Dove kicked off her sneakers and started pulling on the pair of bowling shoes. "You know me, always down for a party. I'm guessing he doesn't want to drive then," she presumed, nodding over to Peter who was walking back towards them.
"I mean I'd rather not," he said, answering her question he had overheard. "Work has been pretty stressful, so I really need a night to let loose."
"You've been working there for a week." Mj arched a brow at him.
Peter frowned, wrapping his arm around the back of her chair. "Hey, I've been working pretty hard around there. Either way, I want to drink, so we'll have to find a ride there."
Dove's lips turned down in consideration while she laced her shoes up. "Shouldn't be too hard to find someone to take us home, but the hard part is getting there." She contemplated their situation, recalling that Daria lived towards the edge of town. They could've potentially walked, but it was just far enough to be arduous, and riding bikes at night while drunk was always a mistake— Dove knew from experience and that wasn't even including her most recent bike crash.
She scanned the room while she munched on her pizza, until her eyes fell on none other than the easiest guy to play: Kyle. He was leaned over one of the busted pool tables with his group of equally idiotic friends. Each of them more of a douche than the last. "I think I just found our ride," she said with a grin, nodding her head over to him, making her friends follow her gaze.
"Kyle?" Mj asked in disbelief.
"Oh, yeah. He's so obsessed with Dove," Peter explained, recalling the night at the last party they went to. Since he was the most coherent one out of the group— being the designated driver— he saw everything. All the lingering touches, the flirty attempts that went right over Dove's drunken head.
"I thought that wasn't happening anymore." Mj turned back to look at Dove, questioning her.
She laughed, shaking her head as she tossed down the rest of her half-eaten slice and brushed her hands together to rid them of crumbs. "It's not, but Peter's right, he'll probably love the idea of showing up with me to the party. We'll just use him for the ride and then once we're there, we can find a way to ditch him. I'm sure we can find someone at the party a little less creepy to drive us home. I even bet our whole class will be there."
Both of her friends nodded, impressed with her quickly formed plan. "Alright, go talk to him then," Mj said.
"Not yet." Dove shook her head, wearing a knowing expression and standing from her seat. "Let's bowl for a bit." She knew all too well that boys only did things if they thought it was their idea, so she got to work.
Striding confidently up to the lane, she grabbed one of the free bowling balls. Taking a few steps, she drew her hand back, and then released it down the long strip of light wash wood. She got a strike on her first try and spun around cheering just loud enough and raising her hands over her head.
After turning around to face the rest of the room, she casually flicked her eyes over towards the pool tables, finding Kyle staring right back at her. Perfect, she thought to herself. Purposefully biting a coy smile, she looked down to her feet and walked back to the table. She sat down in her chair, pleased with the reaction from him. "I give it ten minutes," she declared smugly.
Mj looked over her shoulder at Kyle, who was still transfixed, and then back to Dove with an impressed expression. "I give it five."
They each took another turn bowling and sure enough, five minutes later, Dove felt a hand hit her shoulder. She smiled discreetly to herself, before turning her expression into a facade of surprise when she looked up behind her. "I've been waiting for you to come say hi. Were you just gonna pretend like you didn't see me playing pool?" Kyle questioned.
"Oh, well I saw you were with your friends, so I didn't want to bug you or anything."
"You could never bug me," he said, rounding the table to sit in the open seat beside her, "what are you up to?" he asked, looking over the table and nodding a silent greeting to Mj, while Peter was up taking his turn.
"Just chilling. Bowling a bit."
Kyle hummed to himself. "Who's winning?"
"Does anyone actually keep score?" Dove laughed, picking up the stack of empty scoring sheets to show him. "This shits too confusing for us, so we usually just play for fun."
"Fair enough," he agreed, wrapping an arm over the back of her chair. "So is this the plan for the night? Just bowling?" His eyes were unabashedly tracing over her curves, taking in the exposed cleavage over the neckline of her top.
She shifted in her seat to face him, crossing her arms in a subtle attempt to block his view. "Well, I don't know if you heard about it yet, but we were talking about going to Daria's party."
"I did hear about it. It's supposed to be a pretty rad time." He smiled, flicking his head to move a stray ringlet of black hair out of his eyes. "The guys and I were planning to go later tonight." He looked to his friend group still playing pool across the room.
"Hm," she nodded, "well, I'm not sure if I'll be there. I don't think we've figured out our ride yet." She stared across the table to Mj, and Peter— who had just sat back down. Both listening intently to see if their plan would work.
Kyle considered for a moment. "None of you can drive?" he asked, looking amongst the group.
"Well, Peter here can," Dove explained, gesturing to him, "but I think he was hoping to partake in the festivities tonight and we wanna be safe, ya know? Honestly, we might just stay in and chill instead. It seems like kind of a bust." She uncrossed her arms, figuring she could use her figure to her advantage.
"I'm sure you could ride with me, babe," he said, not even attempting to make eye contact with her, "I'm not the one driving, but I bet my friend could make room."
"Oh, no seriously don't worry about it. I don't want to inconvenience anyone."
Peter opened his mouth to backtrack for Dove, but Mj squeezed his hand under the table, making him clamp his lips shut before he could get a word out. Instantly understanding that she had a reason behind her actions.
And she did. Along with her knowledge that boys never did things unless it was their idea, she knew that people only wanted things more if you told them no first. Maybe even a few times. The more you said no, the more they wanted it. It was classic reverse psychology and Dove was well skilled in utilizing the practice on stupid boys.
"Seriously, it's no problem at all," Kyle said. Before Dove could even try to say no once more, he continued. "We'll pick you up from your place at ten." He stood from his seat, walking backwards as he spoke, increasing the volume of his voice there further back he got. "You get all dressed up for me, babe. I'll see you then."
Dove simply laughed, nodding her head in agreement. The second he turned his back to her, her flirty expression fell into a much smaller grin, oozing cockiness. "Like putty in my hands."
Peter outright slow-clapped at the exchange. "Well done, Dove. You had me there for a second when you said no to him."
"She knows her ways," Mj said, raising her brows.
"Yes I do."
Dove was squished into the backseat of the car, the seatbelt buckle was dangling loosely by her side, painfully digging into her hip. Kyle and his friends had swung by and picked her up, then Mj and Peter on the way to the party. The five seater was packed with seven people— which was a painfully obvious mistake.
The only relief provided came from the fact that not only did they catch a free ride over to the party, but one of Kyle's friends had pulled out a joint and everyone was passing it around while they drove. The already-stuffy air became thick with smoke, somehow filling the cabin of the car even more than it already was.
Not even a block into Daria's neighborhood, there were people walking down the sidewalks towards the party, spelling out the fact that the night would be pretty wild.
They found parking a couple streets away and joined in with the masses of young adults swarming towards the home. The pitch black sky reeked of pot smoke and loud conversation echoed through the otherwise quiet neighborhood.
Dove was mid-conversation with Mj when out of the corner of her eye she saw a truck that was all too familiar. A Chevrolet C10 in that distinct shade of blue she knew so well. A faded memory of a once striking shade of cobalt. Regardless of its apparent age, it was meticulously maintained. Unmistakably owned by someone that had a stick up their ass and liked to keep their possessions pristine.
If those things weren't enough evidence of who the car belonged to, the football sitting in the bed sure did. Dove groaned when she put two and two together, realizing that Steve was at the party and that meant that he probably brought Bucky with him.
She frowned at the thought, genuinely considering asking to leave, but she didn't want to cause a scene amongst the group. Along with that, she figured it would probably be crowded enough that she would be able to avoid the two of them.
When they walked up to the house, she felt that much more reassured. It was indeed crowded. The house was practically overflowing with bodies. It seemed that in spite of it being a Thursday night— anyone with a pulse showed up.
The group shoved their way through the crowd that was covering the yard, stepping over discarded cups, to the front door. Pushing their way in, the volume became nearly unbearable. Conversation and music created a deafening mix. Dove grabbed hold of Mj's hand, while she held Peters. Making a chain of sorts to weave their way through people swaying drunkenly through the house with Kyle and his friends leading the way.
Dove's head continued to oscillate on a constant swivel, trying to pinpoint the location of her brother and his best friend so she knew where to avoid going. There was no sign of them— not yet at least. Although, she knew she'd see them sooner or later.
Kyle lead the group of them through the house, out into the backyard. In the center of the paved outdoor area, under a few decorative string lights, sat a keg. Looking like more of a watering hole of sorts with the way everyone flocked to it. Like an oasis in a desert and everyone was dying of thirst.
Once they all had filled cups, they stood around just a few feet from the keg. Leaning against a garden wall, talking and drinking. Kyle had an unwelcome hand on Dove's waist while she talked to Mj and Peter, but she did her best to ignore it. Hoping if she played nice for just a bit longer, she'd eventually be able to ditch him without making it seem too obvious she had used him for the ride. She had even made some obligatory small talk with him, flirting away his future suspicions.
After a while, he had picked up some kind of conversation with his friend Mitch and Dove was free to focus back on her own friends. They were excitedly discussing the upcoming carnival that was set up at the empty fields just past the high school every year. It went on for three days, ending on the Fourth of July with a bang— pun intended. It was the only time of the year there was actually somewhere fun to go in town and Dove had been desperate for it. Peter mentioned that he miraculously had the last night off, so they'd all be able to go together, making her look forward to it that much more.
She was grinning back at him, planning out what time they should go and everything they were going to do, making sure to hit all the highlights of the event. She was getting more and more eager the more she spoke. Rambling between sips of beer.
"Okay, but I can't do the Tilt-a-Whirl again after last year," Peter warned, "I was puking up corndogs and I can't even eat them anymore without thinking about it."
Mj laughed, wrapping her arm over his shoulder. "Don't worry, Peter, we can stick you on some of the kiddy rides."
"Yeah, you can just stick to the Frog Hopper," Dove added.
"Real funny, guys," he said, drinking the last of his beer. "I'm gonna get a refill."
"Oh, wait! Me too, me too," Dove said loudly before he could saunter off, handing her cup to him. She turned to look up at Kyle, still expecting him to be held in conversation with his friends. But when she saw him staring straight ahead, no longer talking to them, she followed his gaze.
Easily finding Bucky standing across the yard, looking right back at him with an icy cold stare. His head was tilted slightly, giving an arrogant quality to the expression. His squared jaw was clenched, his thick brows pulled straight together. His steel blue eyes flicked to Dove's when he saw that she noticed him.
To put it candidly, his attention had been stuck on her since the second she had stepped out back. He was completely tuned out of his conversation with Steve and their friend Sam to focus on her as she stood talking to her friends while that asshole she was with kept an invasive grip on the skin of her waist.
Bucky quite literally felt his blood pressure skyrocketing the longer he stared at Dove and that mystery douchebag hooked to her side. Every time the guy's hand slid lower, Bucky's hand would tighten around his beer. Every time Dove twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, practically batting her eyes at the guy, Bucky felt his breathing pick up in anger, resenting him for being on the receiving end of her sweet smiles.
He didn't deserve them, but then again— Bucky knew that he himself didn't deserve them either.
As angry as he was at the sight, he also understood that such treatment was warranted. He deserved to have an aching stomach and sweaty palms. He deserved to feel that harsh pang of jealousy. He deserved to watch her move on and feel all the heartbreak that came with that realization.
Bucky thought to himself, maybe seeing her pressed against someone else would finally make him let go of that last bit of hope he had. Perhaps it was a good thing. He could move on before anything truly inappropriate happened between them. Just like he wanted... right?
Undeterred by his attempts to snuff out his burning desires, he couldn't stop ogling at how good she looked. Her frilly purple top was laced up in the middle, leaving a strip of skin exposed down the center of her torso. Her jeans were insanely tight around her hips and thighs, as always, then flaring out around her calves. Her blonde hair as wild and voluminous as ever. Fuck she looks hot, Bucky thought to himself.
He found his scowl, ripping his eyes back to his group of friends as he brushed his fingertips through his short brown hair. Kicking himself for even letting himself think about her that way again. He had been struggling to stifle his near-constant thoughts about her over the last few days, yet today was the first that he hadn't woken up thinking about her. He thought he was making progress— up until the moment he saw her. Every last urge and desire and fantasy came crashing back into his head. He wanted her more than ever before.
Dove saw the anger flash behind Bucky's eyes from across the yard before he looked away, being reminded once again that nothing would ever happen between them. She figured he had reverted back to hating her like he used to when they were young, so she followed suit and looked away, breaking off the albeit fleeting, intense eye contact.
"What's his deal?" Kyle asked, nodding as his stare stayed locked on Bucky.
Dove's lips slanted in consideration. "No idea," she lied.
"I didn't even know Bucky was back in town," he admitted, following the statement with a drink of his beer. Not wanting to explain that Bucky had literally been sleeping down the hall from her for the last few weeks, she silently shrugged. "I mean, he's your brother's best friend right? He's probably just being protective of you for him, huh?" he guessed, coming up with he perfect excuse all on his own.
"Uh, yeah probably," she agreed half-heartedly, wanting him to drop the subject. She searched for something to cut the topic, glancing around. She sighed in relief when she saw Peter approaching her, passing her a full cup of beer from the keg. After thanking him, she brought the plastic to her lips, chugging down the entire thing.
"Woah, I didn't know it was thank kind of night, babe."
She blinked away her watery eyes from the carbonation and covered up a burp, making Kyle laugh. "It is now," she chuckled. Looking up to him, she contemplated her next move. She had felt what she was feeling then many times before— pure, unadulterated impulsivity. Her terrible coping mechanisms were coming out to play and she didn't really feel inclined to fight them off anymore, because that was just the kind of mood she was in. "Think we could find something stronger?"
"We can try," Kyle said with a grin.
He slid his hand from Dove's waist to the small of her back, guiding her through the guests, towards the back door of the house. She looked over her shoulder without even meaning to, finding Bucky staring at her once more. She gave him a mocking smile and she could see— even through the dim light— that his lip curled with a scowl, narrowing his eyes at her. She swore she could practically hear his teeth grinding together.
Once they walked back inside to the smoke-filled, deafeningly loud house, they snaked their way around, trying to track down some kind of liquor cabinet to raid. Walking into the living room, they found that the coffee table was covered in cups, ash trays filled with cigarette butts, and a few stray bottles of liquor. Kyle told Dove to stay in the doorway, while he stealthily brushed past the surface, scooping up one of the bottles and tucking it behind his back as he led her back out to the much less crowded dining room.
"Score," he said, bringing it around his back to show Dove.
"No fucking way," she laughed, grabbing it from him. It was a mostly full bottle of ruby red cherry schnapps, which she knew she could handle well enough. Equal parts nasty and sweet. It would surely give her an excruciating hangover, but that concern was no more than a fleeting whisper compared to the torrent of recklessness that had taken her over.
She needed to be numbed after seeing Bucky and there was only one way to do that— she brought the bottle to her lips, drinking down as much as she could before pulling it away and gasping for air. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then licked her lips clean. The burning feeling on her tongue slowly subsided, thanks to the sticky sweet cherry flavor, so she took another pull.
"We should go back out," Dove said as she screwed the cap back on. She yanked Kyle by his hand, marching him back out to her friends. Her movements became less reserved as the extra alcohol started pumping through her bloodstream. She was shoving through people left and right, but her route was halted by a broad chest standing frozen before her.
"Excuse me, asshole," she spat, trying to shove past whoever it was in front of her. When her gaze slid up to the towering height before her, her eyes widened.
"Hey, Dovey." Steve smiled. He took in her appearance, noting how one of her hands was gripping Kyle's— who Steve hated— and the other was gripping a bottle of alcohol. His smiled faltered, replacing it with a slightly displeased expression.
Dove picked up on the change in his attitude and rolled her eyes. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you about the parties I go to."
"I didn't say anything," Steve said defensively, raising his hands.
"You didn't have to," she argued, "your face said it all."
Steve sighed, shaking his head at her. "Just be smart." He patted her shoulder. Looking up to give Kyle the terrifying 'protective big brother' look, then brushing past them to continue off to wherever he was headed in the first place.
Dove continued on through the house, rushing back outside to their friends. When they walked up, Peter grinned down at the bottle in Dove's hand, reaching out for it. She passed it to him, laughing while he eagerly took a pull from it and then cringed at the taste.
He gave the bottle back to her and she chugged down some more, feeling pretty tipsy then. Although the reasoning seemed fuzzy with her current state of mind, she leaned against Kyle's side. It wasn't even that she liked him, he was just there. Like he was just something to keep her propped up. The touch was was hollow as resting one's hand on a countertop— but not to him.
The night pressed on and the backyard became more crowded. Circles of people were set allover the grass and paved areas, smoking and drinking through conversations, rushing in and out of the back door. Dove continued to sip of the bottle of schnapps, passing it back and forth with Mj and Peter.
She saw Steve approach the keg just beside their group, bending down to refill a cup. "Are you drinking, Rogers?" she called over, making him look up at her. "Thought you drove tonight."
He finished filling the cup, walking closer to her. "Are you keeping tabs on me now, Rogers?" he asked, repeating their shared last name back to her.
"No, but I saw your truck out front and you really shouldn't drink and drive."
Steve raised his brows, surprised by her responsible logic and a little taken aback by her hypocrisy considering how drunk she seemed. "Well, I appreciate your concern, but this is for Bucky. He said he didn't want to come over here," he paused with a weighted silence, looking like there was something on his mind, "did something happen between you two? I feel like he hasn't been back to the house in a couple days."
"It's been three days," Dove corrected, before she could stop herself. Realizing she sounded a bit too aware of his location she continued, trying to backtrack, "or maybe four— I don't know." She shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "But no, nothing happened out of the ordinary. Just him being a dickhead like always."
He rolled his eyes, oblivious to her slip up, but hearing the blatant animosity in her tone. "Well, that explains it. I thought you were going to be civil while he was staying with us."
"Bucky is crashing at your place?" Kyle chimed in, as he'd been listening to the entire conversation silently.
"Uh, yeah," she said.
"I'm sorry, can you stay out of this?" Steve asked Kyle, looking incredibly irritated by his eavesdropping.
Kyle looked between the two siblings, insulted by the scolding. "I'm standing right here, man. I can't just turn my ears off," he chuckled, trying to make light of the remark.
"Well, try," Steve snapped coldly, before looking back down at Dove. "If you need a ride home, let me know." He shot one last look at Kyle before walking back to his group of friends.
Dove sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "Sorry about him," she grumbled, glancing up at Kyle.
"Seems like I've got a few different guys after me tonight," Kyle laughed, nodding to Bucky and Steve, who were talking to each other and occasionally glancing back over to glare at him some more— visibly gossiping about the guy. "You're a dangerous girl to be seen with."
Dove noticed how Bucky was wearing an even more infuriated look than before. Steve was speaking to him, but it was easy to see that his words went in one ear and out the other the longer he talked. "Yeah, well like you said before, he's just protective over me on Steve's behalf," she clipped with the remnants of bitterness from when he rejected her, staring at Bucky even while she spoke to Kyle.
He scoffed, turning to face her. He ran his hand down the side of her cheek, over her shoulder, and down her arm. His hand took the bottle out of hers and brought it to his lips. He took a long sip as he stared down at her. "Well, you're worth taking risks for," he flirted as he handed the bottle back to her.
His statement hit her as hard as the liquor in her belly. He spoke the words she had been dreaming of hearing come from Bucky's lips for days. Hoping he would just say 'fuck it' and make a move. Forgetting his fear of Steve's disapproval because he thought that she was worth it. But it never came and she was sure it never would.
Instead, it came from a different set of lips. A set that was much less desirable, sure, but they were there. Glistening red with cherry schnapps, speaking those downright heavenly words.
Just like when she leaned against him, like one would with a countertop, she pressed her lips to his. The action was hollow once more. There was barely a hint of desire in her heart, but she went with it. As if she was testing herself to see if anyone else could replace Bucky. As if she was hoping that kissing someone else could somehow erase how he made her feel.
Kyle's mouth tasted of sheer intoxication. Sugary sweet liqueur and a hint of weed smoke, just like her own. His tongue was soft, as were his lips. He knew how to kiss and it wasn't bad per se, just not what she wanted. It was like drinking lukewarm water when you're parched. It's adequate, but who would ever choose that over the coldest spring water the world had to offer?
Dove pulled back, sighing as she stared up into Kyle's eyes. He was grinning widely down at her. More than pleased with her action. "Do you wanna go somewhere private?" he asked.
Before she could fully think it through, she muttered a half-hearted "sure."
As he led her back towards the house, she had to fight to urge to look over at Bucky once more. Which was probably for the best, considering he had accidentally crushed his plastic cup in his hand without even meaning to when he saw them kiss. Granted that he had never been a very brutish man, something instinctive stirred in him over the sight.
Bucky was protective over Dove— even though he knew he had no right to be— and something about the guy she was with rubbed him the wrong way. Kyle had been a little too handsy with her and even from across the yard of people, Bucky could see that she wasn't exactly thrilled about it.
And he was right about that. She wasn't thrilled, but she was also just drunk enough to not care. Kyle led her through the house, with a vise-like grip on her wrist and she toddled along behind him. People were still walking in from the front door, shouting greetings over the blasting music. Bodies were packed together like sardines in a can. The air was smoky and hot as they reached the foyer, right in the most crowded spot of the party.
They made their way to the second floor, having to step over people parked on the stairs. Then walking into the first room at the top of the stairs, which conveniently enough, ended up being a bedroom. Neither one of them knew or even cared who it belonged to. Either Daria's or her sister's, they weren't sure.
Without any attempt of conversation, Kyle pushed Dove down to the bed and moved on top of her, peppering her with kisses. Pecking over her lips, down to her throat. His hands wandered over her body with absolutely no hesitation. With his face in the crook of her neck, she stared up at the ceiling, unable to even provide much of a reaction with how quickly he was moving.
"I've wanted this for so long," he muttered against her skin, wafting hot breath over her.
"Mhm," she hummed, too drunk to even register what she was feeling. The sensations were nice, but she couldn't stop wishing it was someone else on top of her. Wishing someone else was squeezing at her waist. Someone else's hands tucking under her top and kneading at her breast. Someone else twisting one of her nipples between his fingers while he licked at her collarbone.
Fuck it. Pretend it's Bucky, she thought to herself drunkenly. She knew she needed to forget about him. She knew it was pretty shitty of her to imagine someone else. She even knew she probably should've told Kyle to stop.
Dove knew all of those things.
But she also knew that she needed someone to cover Bucky's kisses with their own. She needed to use Kyle as an eraser. She needed to move on. And if she needed to play pretend to get herself in the mood, then so be it.
She scrunched her eyes that much tighter, letting herself give into the fucked up fantasy of Bucky on top of her. Imagining him running his hands under her shirt. Imagining him shoving his tongue into her mouth and grinding his hips into hers.
She moaned softly, arching her back off the mattress, making Kyle grin against her mouth. His freehand ran around the back of her head, pulling her deeper to him. His touch moved further south, rubbing gently between her legs, over the denim of her bellbottoms.
Dove bit his bottom lip, spreading her thighs open for him. "Oh, Bucky," she sighed into his mouth before she could stop it. Shit.
Kyle's movements stilled, pulling back from kissing her to look her in the eye. "The fuck did you call me?"
Realizing much too late what she had let slip out, she swallowed hard. Somehow, even through her drunken haze, she came up with a rather passable cover. "I called you baby... do you— do you not like that?"
"You said Bucky," he argued, getting heated.
"No I didn't," she laughed, "you're just fucked up, you probably just heard me wrong dude. I said baby."
Kyle shot up from the bed, standing to his feet and crossing his arms. "I know what I heard, Dove." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you and Bucky banging? Is that why he was giving me the death stare all night?"
"What? N-no, no. I could never sleep with him."
"Right, I forgot. You're a prick tease. You make guys think you'll let them fuck you, but you never put out." He gave her a wicked smile. "That's your thing, right? You see guys as just another game to play."
Dove felt a lump form in her throat. "That's not true."
"It's not?" he asked with a mocking frown, taking a step forward, tilting his head at her. "Alright, then let's have sex. Right now." He smirked, crawling onto the mattress while he spoke, making her scoot back away from him.
"W-what?" she asked, taken aback by his sudden shift in attitude.
"You've kept me waiting long enough, don't you think? Why do you think we stopped talking? Or why I stopped calling? Ya know, I could only finger you so many times before it got boring and I don't want another goddamn blow job... Let me fuck you. If you weren't a tease, you'd let me."
Her lip quivered. "Stop."
"Or are you really just that? A fucking tease?" Kyle spoke an inch away from her face, looking her deep in the eye. "You pretend you're too cool for everyone, but you're really just a scared little virgin."
"I don't pretend to be anything," she lied, knowing he probably had a point.
"Yes you do. You act like you know it all and like you're so experienced, but you know nothing. You've done nothing. You really think a guy like James Barnes would want you?" He was spewing rage now, infuriated from spending over a year trying to pin her down and just when he felt like she was coming around, she moaned another guy's name.
Dove felt a single tear fall from her eye, but instantly wiped it away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Her intoxication was making her emotional and she just couldn't help it.
He scoffed at her. "He'll never want you, Dove."
She gritted her teeth, raising her hand up, and then slapping him hard across the face. She hopped up from the bed, turning back to look at him touching his scalding hot cheek, now pink with a handprint. "Fuck you, Kyle. You have the world's smallest dick anyways, so good luck finding a girl who will ever want to fuck you."
Ripping the bedroom door back open, Dove stormed out into the hall, sprinting down the stairs and shoving through anyone that got in her way. She was drunk and on the verge of tears and all she wanted was to go home.
She clumsily rushed out into the backyard. Speed walking straight up to Steve, throwing her arms around his core, and shoving her face into his chest. Completely interrupting his conversation with Sam and surely attracting unwanted attention in the process, but she didn't give a shit. For whatever reason— whether it was the comfort she got from being by her big brother or whatever— she broke down crying.
"What happened?" Steve asked, sounding shocked by her state, but also angry. Somehow figuring things would end up like this, since she was hanging around that loser Kyle and also drinking straight from the bottle like it was water.
Dove let out a stuttering breath, shaking her head against him. "Stevie, I just need to go home."
Before she could even finish her sentence, a familiar presence rushed up behind her. "What's going on? Is she okay?" The raspy drawl she knew so well was laced with panic and concern. Bucky's eyes raced over her body, looking for any sign of harm done.
Steve gave him a silent, confused look, shrugging his shoulder slightly. "We just need to get her home," he replied solemnly, walking her towards the back door of the house with Bucky trailing behind, shouting hurried explanations and goodbyes to their friends who were calling after them.
"Wait," Dove sniffled, "I- I can't leave without Mj and Peter. We rode here together." She pulled her head away from Steve's chest, searching for the couple. When she found them standing where they had been all night, she waved them over.
Peter looked her over, frowning at her state with red stained lips, drunk from killing off most of the cherry schnapps. "Y'kay, Dove?"
"Mostly," she shrugged, "but we're leaving now, if you want to ride with." She gestured to the backdoor.
"I can drive the two of you home," Steve offered, "you'll have to ride in the bed of my truck though."
"Yeah, we'll come with, this guy needs to be cut off anyways," Mj explained, nodding to Peter. She threw an arm around him, gesturing for Steve to continue inside.
The group of them walked into the house, moving through the partiers. Steve and Bucky were both roughly pushing everyone out of the way that got a little too close to them or Dove. Both of them were much larger than the average person, so it wasn't hard for the two of them to act as human snow plows for the group.
When they reached the foyer, there was an obnoxiously loud voice coming from the top of the stairs. Hurling insults Dove's way as he descended towards the group, Kyle stopped just before them.
"Leaving so soon, babe?" he asked rhetorically, as she cowered against Steve's side, looking at her feet. "Don't you think we should head back up and finish what we started?" Kyle spoke loudly to attract attention, obviously just trying to embarrass her in front of the entire party.
"Kyle, stop. I'm warning you," Steve said, glaring down at him.
He laughed, looking between Steve and Dove. "Oh I see, you got big brother to protect you now? Does he know you're a fucking tease? Because if he did, I'm sure he'd side with me."
"You say one more fucking word and you're hittin' the floor." Bucky spoke up, clenching his fists by his side. He barely even knew Kyle, but after getting the lowdown from Steve after Dove disappeared with the guy, Bucky hated him. It also didn't help that he was basically her ex, or that he had his hands all over her the entire night, or that they did whatever upstairs and she came back out crying.
Kyle grinned, looking up at Bucky and Steve, who both towered well over his height. He peeked down at Dove and his smile widened. "This is very incriminating. He's even standing up for you," he said, nodding to Bucky.
Bucky's eyes widened in confusion then faded into realization. Trailing down to Dove, he saw that she was still standing small as ever, practically curled in on herself. He didn't know what exactly took place between them, but he realized that somehow, he was involved. He looked back to Kyle, finding that his expression was even more smug than before.
He looked Bucky straight in the eye. "Isn't she such a fucking tease—?" he started, being cut off by a fist slamming into his nose.
Without thinking twice, Bucky had punched Kyle, finishing his sentence for him. His head slammed back and his body fell to the floor. The rings from Bucky's knuckles left a bloody mess over his face as he laid limp and unmoving. Knocked out cold.
The entire party froze. It felt like an eternity of silence, before a roaring cheer washed over the crowds of partiers. Chanting Bucky's name in praise and raising their hands to him for high-fives, which he brushed off. Still feeling too enraged to even acknowledge anyone.
Dove had her hand over her mouth as she watched blood dribble from Kyle's nose, Steve was nodding in satisfaction and incredibly thankful for his best friend's actions, and Mj was trying to corral a very drunk Peter Parker who was dancing in a circle, joining in on the cheering of Bucky's name, like his biggest fan.
"Alright, we need to go now," Bucky said with lingering bits of anger simmering just below his determined words.
They all walked to the truck. Steve opened the back for Mj and Peter, while Dove was helped into the bench seat by Bucky. As much as she wanted to refuse his help, she was too drunk, so she just accepted it silently. He scooted in beside her, looking her over. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" His voice was soft and comforting, not wanting to pressure her.
"Don't act like you care about me all of the sudden," she snapped. "Just because you did me a favor and punched Kyle doesn't mean I'm just going to forget about everything that happened between us."
He sighed, nodding his head. "I get it. You don't have to tell me what happened, but I just want to make sure he didn't try to..." his voice drew off, not even wanting to say what he was thinking, "because if he did, I'll go back and finish him off."
Despite how drunk Dove was, she knew what he was thinking. "He didn't force himself on me or anything," she clarified, "it was all talk, but I handled it myself. I don't want you to act like some knight in shining armor or think that I need you. Because I don't. You're just as much of a fucking jerk—" Steve slamming the back of the truck shut and rounding the car made her stop mid-rant, which was probably for the best.
Steve pulled open his door and slipped in on the other side of Dove, pushing his key into the ignition and starting up the car. "Okay, I talked to your friends and we're gonna get you home first and then I'll drive them back to Peter's. Mj said she's going to stay with him for the night in case he gets sick."
"Thanks, Stevie. I really appreciate you taking care of them too."
"It's what I'm here for, Dovey," he said, petting the top of her head, as he pulled away from the curb and started down the road. "Um, I'm not even sure if I want to know the answer to this, but is something going on between the two of you?" he asked, looking between Dove and Bucky. "I mean, I'm not dumb and it really seemed like Kyle was inferring... something."
"No," Dove answered his question easily, having already rehearsed what she was going to say since leaving the party, "Kyle was convinced there was something going on too, since Bucky kept glaring at him tonight. I'll spare you the details, but he came up with the crazy idea that I had feelings for Bucky or something."
Bucky bit his lip, trying to stifle a smile as he looked out the window. He was incredibly impressed with Dove's quick wit most days and the fact that she didn't lose it even after chugging half a bottle of liquor was shocking. Even as she swayed slightly in her seat and looked through low eyes, she kept her intelligence.
"Thank god," Steve sighed, relieved by his sister's response. His shoulders visibly relaxed as he drove. "Ya know, that guy seems like a prick if you ask me," he spat angrily, eyes set on the road, "I don't want you hanging around him anymore, Dove."
She didn't say anything in response, but nodded. She already despised Kyle and after what happened in that bedroom, there was no way in hell she'd ever speak to him again. Feeling overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted, she leaned back in her seat, trying to slow her breathing.
The cabin of the truck became silent as they drove through the neighborhood, towards the couple of main roads in town. Bucky could feel the warmth from Dove's thigh achingly close to his. He hadn't been that close to her in what felt like forever. Even through the smell of liquor on her breath, he could pick up on that familiar sweet citrusy scent on her skin. He didn't realize until then how much he genuinely missed her presence.
A knock on the back window made him jump, twisting around to see Peter literally pressed against the glass waving at him excitedly. Bucky flashed an awkward smile, giving him a casual salute with a tilted head, before Peter was yanked back by Mj and then was scolded by her for not staying seated. All of this muffled through the glass.
"God, that kid is weird," Bucky muttered.
"You mean Peter?" Steve asked over Dove's head, getting a nod from Bucky. "Yeah, he's a bit of a spaz, but he's always been a good friend to Dove, so he's alright in my book. He's just super drunk right now."
"Yeah, I can see that. What was he drinking?"
"It was whatever Dove had, I think it was cherry schnapps."
Bucky cringed and went to reply, but was silenced by a blonde head of hair falling onto his shoulder. He held his breath, shocked by her forward action, in the car with her brother no less. When he leaned forward to give her a warning look, he saw her eyes were closed and her lips were parted slightly. "Dove's out," he whispered to Steve.
Steve did a double take, trying to watch where he drove, while taking in her condition. "Shit, sorry, Buck. You can just shove her off if you want."
"No, it's— it's fine." Bucky shifted in his seat, pulling his arm out from under her, wrapping it around her instead so her cheek was reacting on his chest. He felt his heart race as he moved, realizing the position could be compromising, but he justified it to himself when he considered that he'd be too uncomfortable with her chin digging into his shoulder.
Sure enough, there was another loud knock on the back window, coming from Peter. Bucky whipped his head around holding a finger to his lips, then pointing down to Dove's sleeping body. Peter's eyes widened, laughing and clapping excitedly at the way Bucky was holding her in such an affectionate way, before being tugged back into his spot yet again.
"I'm gonna fuckin' kill that kid if he wakes Dove up," Bucky whispered, making Steve laugh.
When they got back to the Rogers' house, Steve shook Dove awake, whispering that they were home. She blinked her eyes a few times, inhaling deeply through her nose as she took in their location. "Come on, Dovey. I'll walk you in," he said.
"I can take her in, pal," Bucky offered, "that way you can get Cherry Schnapps Boy home."
Dove frowned at the two of them, her head oscillating back and forth. "Guys chill out, I'm fine. I can make it up to my room on my own."
"No, Dove it's really not a big deal—"
"Fuck off, dude. I said I'm fine," she snapped coldly, cutting Bucky's words off with a sharp edge to her voice. He hesitated, clenching his jaw in anger, and then bitterly stepped out of the car without another word. She slid out behind him, then immediately started marching to the door with sloppy footfalls.
Steve rolled his eyes at her hostility towards Bucky— considering that he was ridiculously out of the loop in their business and didn't understand all that he had done to her— but, he didn't utter a word. Knowing she was drunk and probably still reeling from everything that had occurred at the party.
Once Bucky got back into the car, they watched Dove walk across the front lawn while Peter and Mj were yelling their goodbyes from the bed of the truck. The second she made it inside, they did a quick u-turn to drive the remaining passengers home.
A/N: How are we feeling about this chapter? How much do we hate Kyle for being such a... Kyle? lol