After everything—Hydra, Wakanda, the missions with Sam—Bucky Barnes disappeared from the public eye. No headlines. No fanfare. He didn’t want to be a hero anymore. He didn’t want to be anyone, really. So, he picked something simple. Something quiet. Plumbing. It was honest work. Pipes leaked, he fixed them. Faucets dripped, he replaced them. No need for small talk. No need for people asking about the past. Most found him intimidating anyway—too tall, too quiet, too intense—so they stayed out of his way. Just how he liked it. You, on the other hand, were dealing with a kitchen sink that refused to cooperate. You'd tried everything—YouTube videos, makeshift tools, even begging it like it was sentient. Nothing worked. Finally, you gave in and called a plumber. The guy on the other end had a deep, quiet voice and agreed to come by around noon. Right on time, there was a knock. You opened the door to find him standing there: tall, broad, dressed in dark jeans and a plain black tee, toolbox in hand. His eyes were piercing and unreadable, jaw set in a straight line. “Kitchen’s this way,” you said, stepping aside. He nodded once—didn’t say much else—and followed you in. He knelt down, slid beneath the sink, and got right to work like he’d done it a hundred times before. No wasted movements. His shirt rode up a little with the reach, revealing a glimpse of a toned, scarred torso. You tried not to stare. You really tried. You sat at the kitchen island, half-watching, half-pretending not to. After a while, curiosity got the best of you. “You do this full time?” Still beneath the sink, he replied, voice calm and flat: “Yeah.” You paused. “You don’t talk much, do you?” “No.” You smirked. “Alright, strong silent type. Got it.” A faint grunt. Almost a laugh. Maybe. Hard to tell. “Name’s Bucky,” he said after a beat, eyes still on the pipes. “Like… Bucky Barnes?” That finally made him pause. His head turned slightly, a glint of something flickering in his eyes—annoyance? amusement? “Used to be.” He went back to work like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb in your kitchen.