Your eyelids peeled open. You were home.
If it hadn't been for the throbbing pain that started radiating from your neck the moment you became conscious, you might've fooled yourself into thinking that the incident outside the bar had been a dream, that there was no way you'd ever actually be stupid enough to try something like that for real. You attempted to swallow but it felt like there was a dry golf ball blocking the back of your throat.
Closing your eyes again, you held your breath and listened intently, trying to tune out the sounds of the road outside. You were desperate to know if he was still here. There was no way in hell you'd have ended up back in your apartment unless he'd brought you, any random bystander would have either packed you into an ambulance or left you unconscious in the gutter. You wouldn't have blamed him for doing either.
Easing yourself into a sitting position, you reached for the glass of water on your nightstand and took a couple of tiny sips, wincing as the muscles in your throat contracted. Fuck, did it hurt. Given the choice you might even have considered taking another alien gunshot to the stomach over this.
You swallowed your last sip, looked up and saw Bucky standing in the doorway. He must've heard you stirring. He looked pissed.
"Hey." You jolted at the sound of your own voice, it sounded like glass crunching underneath a heavy boot.
"How's the pain?"
"Bad. Do you have anything I could take for it?"
"You really think you could swallow painkillers right now?"
Your head collapsed forwards and you rubbed your eyes harshly, the agony causing a thick cloud of fog to start forming in your mind. You had no idea what you were going to do. Bucky briefly disappeared from the doorway, returning after a second and moving over to the bed with something cupped in his palm. He took your glass of water and emptied his hand into it. Crushed up pills.
He held it out to you. "Drink."
"Thanks." You started taking tiny, rapid sips again but paused when he stood up and began heading for the door. "Wait, can we talk?"
"You need to rest."
"I need to explain."
"We'll talk later," he nodded towards the glass, "after they've kicked in."
You just nodded and let him go. You weren't willing to push him any further, not while he was being this stern. You didn't want to risk pushing him away again.
It took you a good ten minutes to finish off the glass, but the throbbing didn't begin to subside until about half an hour after that. As soon as you could think straight, however, you were on your feet. You figured Bucky had probably intended for you to rest a little longer than that but you were absolutely bursting for a wee, so you pulled on a sweater and shuffled through to the front room.
He was sitting on the couch in silence. He didn't look over as you walked into the bathroom, his fingers tapping against the upholstered arm, a brooding expression on his face.
He still hadn't moved when you came back out.
"Can we talk now?" The tapping stopped abruptly but he stayed silent. "Please, Buck."
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"Anything. Jesus, scream at me if you want to. Tell me I'm an idiot, call me an asshole, just give me any hint of what you're thinking."
You noticed his eye twitch slightly every time your voice broke or faltered, his gaze staying fixed to the floor. He flexed his jaw as he considered his next words. They came out barely louder than a whisper.
"If you hate being spoken to like a child then why the fuck do you act like one so often?"
"I know, I'm sorry, it was unbelievably fucking stupid. I just really needed to see you."
"So you start a bar fight?"
"Well I couldn't exactly put up a bat signal, could I?"
"Put up a what?"
"Nevermind." You placed yourself down beside him, lifting one leg up onto the couch so you could face him directly. "I needed to apologise and I couldn't think of any other way to get to you."
"Apologise?"
"Yeah, for how I acted when you were here before."
"I don't know what you mean."
"I should never have let you leave, Buck. I didn't want you to go I was just... spiteful. I'm sorry."
He finally looked at you. You could see in his face that he was desperately trying to figure out how to feel about that, how to react. His eyes narrowed slightly and darted from you, to the wall behind you, to the floor and then back to you. He was almost starting to look pleased. His lips parted slightly but he stopped himself before he spoke, face falling into disapproval once again.
"You almost got yourself killed so you could apologise to me?"
"Yes," you felt like picking him up and shaking him, "because you're worth the risk, alright? You think I would've had the balls to do that for anyone else? You think I didn't shit myself and want to run away when that guy was coming at me?"
"I think you've got a deathwish."
"Maybe I do."
"Well I wish you'd stop."
A hoarse chuckle escaped through your lips. "Make me."
The corner of his mouth curled upwards. Your head was beginning to feel heavy so you let it collapse sideways onto the couch cushion. Bucky hesitantly reached a hand towards you, brushing his fingertips over the mottled bruising on your neck, his tough so light that you barely felt it.
"How's it feeling?"
"Like I got kicked by a horse with really good aim."
"S'what happens when you go picking fights with guys twice your size." He shrugged, pulling his hand away and leaning his head back so it was sitting at the same angle as yours. "Y'know, I almost stopped checking up on you a couple days ago."
"You what?"
"Well, I figured I couldn't just keep following you around forever. I wanted to step back and finally give you a chance to move on but, I don't know, I guess I just couldn't stay away."
"Jesus, I'm fucking glad you didn't."
"Me too."
You shuffled forwards, placing your hand over the top of his and squeezing it tightly. You knew it was now or never for your relationship, either you figured out how to make it work right now or you walked away for good, because this high stakes on and off affair was clearly taking its toll on both of you. He interlaced his fingers with yours.
"You really think I'm worth it?"
"I promise you are, Buck."
***
Your eyes shot open. What the fuck was that noise? It sounded like metal clattering against tile but it was too loud to be coming from a neighbouring apartment.
You ran a hand down the length of your side and past your hip, searching desperately for the heavy, metal arm that lay in the same place every single night. He'd initially insisted on only staying at your apartment a couple of nights a week, not wanting to be a burden on you, but he'd been there for almost three weeks straight now and you weren't planning on kicking him out anytime soon.
The arm wasn't there. You rolled onto your back, reaching a hand towards the lamp on your nightstand but freezing when you heard a gruff whisper.
"Don't."
"Buck?"
You tried to stay hushed too but you were beginning to freak out a bit. Your eyes started to adjust to the darkness and you saw him sitting bolt upright beside you, staring intently at the slightly cracked bedroom door, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Stay here."
He threw the sheet off and sprung to his feet, moving across the room completely silently and peering into the front room with laser focus. It would've been an incredibly impressive exhibition of his stealth and prowess if he hadn't been only in his underwear.
He looked back at you, lifted a finger to his lips and then held up a flat hand, which you translated as him telling you to shut the fuck up and stay put. You shook your head frantically. The baseball bat that you kept under your side of the bed was overdue some action, so you grabbed it and followed your defeated boyfriend through the door.
The living room was clear. He tried once more to make you stay behind as he moved to the kitchen but, once more, you refused. No amount of frenzied arm gestures would convince you that any spot in this apartment was safer than being right next to him.
He turned the corner and swiftly turned on the light in the kitchen, illuminating a metal saucepan in the middle of the floor and the cupboard you kept it in hanging open an inch. You frowned slightly, wondering why a highly-trained Hydra assassin would be rifling through your crockery collection.
Another sound came from inside the cupboard. You almost jumped to the other side of the room but Bucky rushed straight towards it, flinging open the door and breathing a sigh of relief when a small rat jumped out and scurried away across the counter. He turned back towards you with an unimpressed glare.
You chuckled. "You think he was sent to scout us out?"
"I think we need to find a new apartment."
"Nah, the wildlife just adds to the character and charm of th-" Your tongue stuttered as you realised what he'd just said. "Wait, we?"
"Yeah. Well, unless you don't want to."
"I want to."
"Me too."
"Good."
He smiled, stepping over the stray saucepan as he moved over, circling his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest. You rested the side of your head against his collarbone and chuckled as you watched the rat squeeze into the gap beside the oven.
Yeah, fair enough, this place was a shithole.
"So," you smiled to yourself, "were you really gonna fight off an intruder in just your underwear?"
"I'd fight a whole army naked for you, sweetheart."
"Aw. That's so weird."
"It sounded better in my head."
"Sure it did."