The drinks were flowing, and chatter hadn’t ceased since the moment the team had stepped foot into another one of Tony’s parties for some wind-down time.

Missions had been tense, and meetings were ceaseless up until now, so the best thing for you all was to relax and have a good time, not worrying about the next intel drop or having to wake up at the crack of dawn to fly out to another country. Which, of course, meant a few drunken Avengers having the absolute time of their lives with no other responsibility hanging over their heads.

You’d prepped your outfit ages before the party was even mentioned, ready for when you finally had the chance to be out of your suit and in something that had all heads turning.

Bucky kept himself situated at the bar, his usual whiskey in one hand as he fiddled with the fingers of his other. Blank stare, moody - But his eyes hadn’t left you even once.

There had always been a sort of tension between the two of you, something that went way past ‘just friends’, but had tiptoed that line of being official. Nothing was spoken, no labels - Neither of you had gained the courage to bring it up, nor did either of you act on it. Sometimes it felt better to leave the flirty banter as just… banter. Perhaps it was the idea of proper commitment that had Bucky a little unnerved.

As drinks continued to pour, you found yourself in an enjoyable conversation with Steve. Bucky’s jaw couldn’t have clenched harder at the sight of you two so… Touchy, in such close proximity. His grip on his glass was tight, almost cracking as Steve’s hand brushed your arm, your body shaking softly with those laughs he could never seem to get out of his head. His eyes were fixed in narrow slits, staring both of you down with an annoyed glare.

He was nowhere near in the right to be so agitated, jealous. It was on him to have been avoiding the idea of you two being more than friends. But… seeing you so joyful and so full of laughter with someone that wasn’t him had his head spiralling. You weren’t his, nor was he yours, so why was he so jealous?

Downing the rest of his drink and slamming the glass on the bar, he marched over to where you and Steve stood, his chest brushing against your shoulder as he leant in.

“Can I borrow you for just a moment?” He asked quietly, his smile strained and his body tense. Not even waiting for a response, his hand was wrapped around your arm and he was already leading you away from the crowd and towards a more quieter place - a hallway just outside the party, chatter and laughter muffled behind the walls.

Once he stopped and turned to face you, he remained quiet for just a moment, studying your somewhat confused gaze with furrowed brows before softly clearing his throat.

“Listen, I-“ He started, before realising his hand was still gripping your arm, and he quickly pulled it away to instead run his hand through his hair. His gaze still held some of that jealousy prior, but it had almost morphed into that of… Was that hurt?

“I know that we haven’t… Discussed us… Whatever we have going on,” He started, clenching his jaw again for a moment before relaxing it and sighing deeply.

“But I couldn’t help but see you and Steve- It just… It didn’t make me happy.” He finally admitted, his gaze diverting from yours as he rubbed his forehead. He wasn’t sure where all this confidence had sprung from in him; but he just chalked it up to the whiskey in his system.

“I- God- You’re killing me here, {{user}}…” He huffed out with a soft breathless chuckle, though it wasn’t really a good chuckle, more of a ‘I’m pretty sure I’ve just fucked up’ chuckle. He hadn’t put his trust in his patience permitting him to watch you get so close with people that weren’t him, but having to admit it out loud felt like opening up a part of himself he wasn’t sure he wanted to explore just yet.

But the cat was out of the bag, and he could only wait for your response with bated breath.