Chapter Text
“Honey, where's the first aid kit?”
“Behind the front desk – wait, what?” Steve spun around frowning, his face only slightly relaxing when he saw Peggy unharmed but towing a limping, sheepish-looking guy behind her. “Shit, everything okay?”
“Yes!”
“No!” Peggy glared at the guy and pointed to the sofa that made up the waiting area of Steve's shop. “Sit.”
“I'm really okay,” the guy said, shooting Steve a pleading look. Steve ignored it, and dug out the big plastic case himself. “Really.”
“You took a tumble that would have made Buster Keaton weep with envy,” Peggy informed him. “Icepack, ace bandage, and alcohol wipes please, Steve.”
Steve, not being dumb, placed the requested items in Peggy's outstretched hand.
The guy tried the pleading look again. Good grief, he was adorable. “I'm so sorry, she insisted...”
“It's okay,” Steve assured him, and pulled a wooden crate over to sit on. Peggy had manhandled the guy into turning sideways on the sofa, and was loosening the laces on his left boot. “What happened?”
The other man rolled his eyes and went to shove his hair out of his face – stopping, Steve noticed, when he saw the bloody scrapes on the palm of his hand. “ Fuck. Um. Seriously, I just tripped and fell, it's nothing.”
“He was walking along the edge of that horrible new fountain and slipped and landed practically in my lap,” Peggy informed Steve. She had gotten the boot off and pulled the guy's sock down, frowning at his ankle before she settled the icepack on it. “This is sprained.”
“Twisted,” the guy corrected, turning an absolutely beautiful shade of red. “And. Uh. Yeah, that about covers it. You really, really don't have to do this...”
“We really, really don't mind,” Steve said, and reached for the guy's right hand, uncurling it and opening an alcohol wipe. “Sorry, this is gonna sting.”
“S'okay,” he assured Steve, and he didn't even wince as he wiped the blood and grit off.
“Other hand,” Steve said, and wondered why the guy started laughing – until he reached out, and Steve could see clearly that his hand was metal, beautiful, articulated, and obviously a prosthetic. “Oh. Heh. I'm sorry. Guess this one's okay.”
“It's all right,” the guy said, and he smiled he was really adorable. “I'm Bucky, by the way.”
“Steve. And your rescuer is Peggy.” Steve craned his head over and checked Bucky's ankle himself. “And you're not leaving until that swelling goes down.”
“Dude, no,” Bucky protested. “You've got a business to run, and you damn well don't need me taking up half the shop --”
“You're staying,” Peggy informed him as Steve simultaneously assured him that the shop didn't open for another two hours.
“You could try arguing with us,” Steve offered, “But I promise, you'd lose.”
Bucky's eyes narrowed, but he was smiling. “Really? I'm pretty stubborn.”
Steve just crossed his arms and stared him down.
“Give it up now,” Peggy advised. “And how do you take your coffee?”
“Black – wait, no! Peggy, no, don't, I'm fine, just...don't let me take up any more of your time,” Bucky said, holding out his hand, pleading.
“That's two black coffees, Peg, plus whatever you want,” Steve said serenely. “My wallet's in my back pocket. Seriously, dude, don't even try to argue with us,” he advised, and reached for Bucky's right hand, frowning when he saw it was still seeping blood. “Hey, bring me the gauze when you're up, Pegs?”
“Bucky,” Peggy said, her voice softening for practically the first time since she'd wrestled Bucky onto the sofa. “You're not imposing, or taking us away from anything else, or anything like that. I promise. Now let Steve bandage your hand, and drink your coffee, and when your ankle looks better we'll release you back into the wild,” she ended sweetly.
Bucky relaxed a little. “If you're absolutely sure...”
“I'm sure, I'm sure!” Steve said, and Peggy fished the wallet out of his jeans pocket. They kissed quickly, and she left after tossing the gauze to Steve, who caught it easily.
“Sorry. We're both a little strong-willed,” Steve admitted, carefully wrapping Bucky's hand. “Um. We're not keeping you from anything, are we?”
“Steve, Peggy found me when I was seeing if I could balance on the edge of a fountain,” Bucky said dryly. “I'm not exactly racing off to work.”
Steve laughed, and tied off the ends of the bandage neatly. “Good. Hey, lie back,” he encouraged, and lifted Bucky's leg, icepack and all, to rest on the back of the sofa. “Anything else I should know about?"
Bucky shook his head, smiling up at Steve. “Thank you. I don't live far, I could've gotten home, but...thank you.”
“Hey, no problem,” Steve said, and settled down again on the wooden crate. “Seriously. Um. I'm sorry it had to be under these conditions, but it's always nice to meet someone from the neighborhood.”
Bucky grinned, rakish and lovely. “Likewise. So. You run the tattoo shop?”
“Uh huh. Well, really, I do the tattoos and Peggy runs the business.” Steve smiled, and didn't care too much that he probably went all sappy. “She's so much better than one crappy little shop, but I'd be shit at running it by myself, so...”
“Hey, it's an awesome little shop,” Bucky protested. “Seriously. ”
Steve beamed. “Thanks. We make a pretty good team. Um. So what do you do?”
“I'm a programmer. Mostly dealing with security stuff,” Bucky explained. “Really, it means I spend way too much time staring at a computer screen.”
“That's really cool, though,” Steve said. “You work around here?”
Bucky nodded. “I work from home most of the week. I'm lucky actually; my sleep gets fucked up sometimes so it's nice to be able to work when I want and oh my God you cannot possibly want to know that, I'm so sorry,” he said, physically covering his mouth with his hand. “Fuck.”
Steve laughed and shook his head. “It's fine. I'm glad you found something that works for you. And hey – you're always welcome to drop by and say hi. I'm usually pretty busy, but Peggy's always up for a cup of tea and cookie. And I can take five between customers.”
Bucky smiled back, shy and sweet. “Thanks. It gets a little lonely sometimes.”
“Well, you're always welcome here,” Steve said, looking up when Peggy let herself back into the shop, holding a tray with three take-out coffees and a bag of something that smelled amazing. “Ooooh, did they have the cinnamon buns?”
“Last three,” Peggy gloated, sharing them around and silencing Bucky with a look before he could even begin to protest. “We win.”
“We have a long-running competition with the florist across the street to see who can get the last cinnamon buns before the cafe runs out,” Steve explained. “We're winning.”
“We're Coulson's favorites,” Peggy said gleefully, handing around the coffee and treats.
“Technically, I am his favorite,” Steve informed her. “He just knows you're a good route to me.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling,” Peggy cooed, and took a sip of her coffee.
' Favorite ' Steve mouthed to Bucky, pointing at himself, and Bucky at least tried to not give him away, but couldn't help laughing.
“Eat,” Peggy said, and Bucky ate and drank, falling into comfortable silence as Peggy reminded Steve of one or two things that absolutely needed to get done that day.
After half an hour, Steve checked Bucky's ankle and removed the ice pack, but chided him to still keep it elevated. “Can't have you getting frostbit,” he explained, tossing it away. “But still a little swollen.”
“I promise, it's only a five minute walk home,” Bucky said, but subsided at Steve and Peggy's looks.
“And I promise, you're not any trouble. Nice to have someone new to talk to,” Steve said, stretching his legs out.
“Nice to not be icing Steve for once,” Peggy called from the back room where she'd gone to fetch some paperwork so she could work and chat at the same time.
Steve blushed when Bucky turned a questioning eyebrow to him. “Um. I. Have been known to get in a fight or two in my time,” he admitted. “I don't start them!” he rushed to assure Bucky. “Just...I hate bullies, you know? And people can be such assholes and.” He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. “I don't think might makes right or anything like that, but I'm bigger than most people, and stronger too. And if someone's going around picking on someone else, I can get 'em to stop.”
Bucky's smile started when Steve said he hated bullies, and only grew. “That's really great, Steve. Honestly, it really is. Just...didn't you ever learn to duck ?”
Steve blushed and ran a hand through his hair, making the rough blond quiff stand on end. “No.”
“He never learned when to stop fighting either,” Peggy said, joining them again, sitting comfortably on the end of the sofa and putting her feet up on Steve's lap.
Bucky sighed, and rolled his eyes. “Peggy, you're a saint.”
“I know,” she said smoothly. “Steve, he's found you out already.”
Steve laughed, and held up his hands. “I can't help it! If I don't do it, though, who will?”
Bucky's smile was a sight to behold. “You've got a point, but I'm still gonna teach you how to duck.”
“You...box?” Steve hazarded, and Bucky nodded.
“Kind of,” he admitted, and pointed to his left arm. “I have to be careful with this, but as long as I don't actually spar, I'm okay.” He smiled at them both. “And because you're way too polite to ask, the answers are, in probable order, when I was fifteen and bone cancer, and yes I'm officially cured. And yes, I read The Fault in Our Stars and bawled my eyes out.”
Steve breathed carefully. Cured . He held onto that, while Peggy expressed a quiet thanks, and that she was glad he was okay now.
“So, yeah. Teach me how to duck. When you're all healed up,” Steve managed to contribute.
“Whatever, dude.” Bucky rolled his eyes but let Steve put a fresh ice pack on his ankle.
They talked of idle things until Bucky had been lying there over an hour, and Steve deemed him in acceptable shape to walk home, if he promised to text one of them in case he needed absolutely anything at all.
“You know I've lived on my own – much of that with one arm – for years, right?” Bucky pointed out while Steve strapped his ankle up.
“That's nice. You have both our numbers and the shop's number, right?”
“You guys have a future as the nicest kidnappers in the world, you know that, right?” Bucky said, mimicking Steve's tone.
“Call. Anything. We live just upstairs, nothing is any trouble, keep your foot up.”
“And I'll say my prayers and go to bed early and go to Mass every Sunday,” Bucky snarked, but he was smiling, and let Steve pull him to his feet. “I'll call if I have even the slightest whim to be fulfilled. I promise.”
“Good.” Steve hesitated, and then hugged him. “Hey. It really was great meeting you.”
“You too. I promise I'll come by and say hi again soon,” Bucky said. He turned and hugged Peggy goodbye. “If I had to fall on my ass in front of anyone in the world, I'm glad it was you.”
“Take care of yourself,” she said, but kissed his cheek, and waved him out the door. Steve was pleased to see he was only limping a little, and didn't feel too guilty for letting him leave.
“We're keeping him,” Peggy told him, once Bucky was out of earshot.
“I like him too,” Steve agreed, and leaned over for a soft kiss. “Love you. Thank you for bringing him here.”
Peggy snorted. “Like I was going to leave him there after he practically broke his neck in front of me. I need you reckless assholes where I can see you.”
“And join in when it looks like fun?”
“And join in when it looks like fun.”