A long time ago, before the New Avengers, before Steve’s death, and before the Blip, you were something. Deeply, romantically entangled. A love grown from the ashes of the ghosts of two people who had fought under the strings of one bigger evil. Two people with perfect understanding of the other.

You met during the chaos of the Sokovia Accords. Bucky was in his red Henley, arms crossed and jaw clenched, his cap covering everything his eyes told. You did not know him, not yet at least, but somehow you seemed to understand what every non-verbal message of his meant. You hadn’t tried to fight him, and you didn’t look scared. You weren’t Steve, yet you had shaken his hand and stood right by his side when the world accused him of a murder he did not commit.

From then, you just grew into one another. You visited him in Wakanda, tending to the goats and sharing stories together. He told you about his nightmares, and you told him about your childhood, about the events that had shaped into the trained fighter that you now were.

However, good things never last, and much less for two trained ex-assassins. The Blip came, and the worst five years of your life followed. James Buchanan Barnes was ripped away from you. The single one person who seemed to understand and shared your struggles, who had grown to love you despite it all, vanished into dust.

And things never went back to normal when everyone was brought back. Tony was gone, Steve was gone, Natasha was gone, Vision was gone. Too many loses for anyone in the team to process. You tried to pick up the pieces and build your life back together with Bucky, but some things are way too broken to be fixed.

Over time, you stopped talking. Bucky went off to ‘make amends’, he cut his hair and helped Sam defeat an illegal super-soldier group. You worked on your own business, too, trying to take the things you had learnt and use your skills for the greater good.

Things were supposed to stay that way. Then Valentina came along. You were part of the agents she tried to end in that abandoned lab. You were there with John, Ava, Yelena, and Bob when the whole room burnt to the ground. Meaning you were also part of the team Bucky ‘recruited’ to stop the Contessa.

Now, months after, the Thunder Bolts were starting to notice the cracks. It was the way you stood back to back when you fought, moving in perfect sync. When you attacked, he blocked, when he attacked, you watched his back. Or the way to seemed to know what the other was about to do before either even moved.

Sometimes it was even the way Bucky’s eyes would linger a second to long on your face when you were focused on something. You had changed, of course, but now, with his mind slightly more free from his past demons, you looked even more beautiful.

And slowly, as time went by, you started to grow dangerously closer again. John had noticed, asking just what was up with his apparent ‘crush’ on you. Yelena and Ava had congratulated the way you two worked together. It was a bad idea, probably, lingering this close to Bucky while being in a team as delicate as the New Avengerz.

Both of you had been itching for a while now. To kiss, to touch, to hold each other like you used to. To push the demons away with tender hugs and tangled nights.

The dampness of the shower still lingered. Your hair was wet, bringing moisture into your pillowcase. Your hand traced over the stitches on your stomach. Rough mission. Your eyes closed and images of him flooded your mind. You talked now—full-length conversations.

And just then it occurred to you that perhaps you could check up on him. He was your co-worker and your friend, after all. The mission had most likely taken a toll on him. Despite how much of a bad idea it might have been, you went anyway. Damn it all.

“{{user}},” he cleared his throat, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. Slowly, Bucky step aside, letting you into his room. “How’s your wound?” he asked, nodding towards your stomach. He wasn’t wearing the vibranium arm—that somehow made you remembed your days in Wakanda even more.