.

.

.

Who knew if he was even watching the movie at this point. Whenever I paused, he didn't let me rest long, nudging back against my arm for more.

"So..." Eve half hummed at my ear. "Devon's been trying to get a hold of you. Decided to go through me this time. Forwarded the messages onto your phone. Kept you offline on everything."

'Of course he'd contact me when I was thinking what he would do with a broken ass person....'

Clumsily, I reached back with my foot trying to pluck my phone off the night table with my toes. With one hand still scratching Bucky's head, the other navigated through the apps.

If I were frolicking through social media, my parents would probably assume I was just off playing rather than hiding from Jekyll.

Hey. Are you free on the June 20th? There's a concert at Walt Disney Concert Hall.

The same words sent to me via all the ways a person could probably message me shy of snail mail.

Apologies. I have been rather caught up with the family business and I didn't see any of your messages until Eve told me abo

'Nope,' I chirped in my head, my thumb holding down backspace.

Why the hell these words decided to weave themselves together in that odd order, I had no idea.

Yo! What's up! Been long! Haha didn't see your messages. Holy cow! The Walt Disney Conc

'Nope! Nope! Much nope! So much nope!'

Hey. Sorry I just read your messages. I won't be able to make it. My schedule's rather ful

'I don't know how to reply....'

I wasn't going to drag Jekyll to Devon's concert, but I really wanted to go. This would be the first concert he'd invite me to that I wouldn't be able to go to.

"You should go," suggested a deep voice to my left.

My eyes snapped up from the screen and landed on Bucky who had resettled against the pillow mountain. The lightness in his tone hit me like a freight train. "W-wh....wha...?"

His shoulder rolled back, using the movement to peer up at me. "You should – Awww."

His metal finger gently jabbed at my cheek.

"Look who's blushing. You like him, don't you?"

An absolutely infectious toothy grin pulled across his face, eyes crinkling at the corners.

'Am – am I...? Dream...? Wha?'

"You do! I got this."

With those words, he reached over, plucking something from my fingers.

"So, is this Devon handsome?"

Was that teasing in his voice?!

'What the fuck's going on!?!'

The moving animation stilled into a picture. A picture of Devon and I in Santorini, mid-jump in between two buildings. A bloody selfie.

"He is a handsome one."

'...Is that my pho – HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!'

I jumped for my phone, but Bucky's hand shot up, moving away from me.

"No no nononono. Wait!"

Clawing up the body of muscle, I tried to get a hold of the stupid thing. When he finally showed mercy and dropped the phone in my hand... it was –

"Eve!"

"Too late," she cackled.

"What the fuck! Eve!! This is like a bloody essay! How did you type so fast?"

I could only gape at the man I sat on and the massive paragraph on my phone.

"How did you even compose this in the span of 10 seconds?"

"I had 27 seconds," Bucky merely stated, his head cocking to the side with the cheekiest grin I'd ever laid eyes on.

"He soaks up information better than ShamWow with water," Eve stated at my ear.

He was using a laptop, a tablet and a TV all at once this afternoon. One of them being the satellite feed of this neighbourhood.

"His one hand now types faster than you do with both."

Puffing out my cheeks, I tossed my phone across the room and dug my fingers into his sides. Giggles peeled out of him.

Sweet revenge's mine!

Though in a matter of seconds, Bucky had my hands swallowed up in his fists.

His eyes widened at the wicked smirk I sent down at him. I gave my toes a wiggle, being that they were already tucked against his sides.

He practically squealed.

A twist of his body and I slammed into the mountain of pillows.

Chuckles bubbled up from within me and we both broke into a bout of laughter.

When we managed to calm down some, he looked back at the picture. "The two of you look happy."

I couldn't help but smile at that particular frame of the video clip. "Yeah. That's the first freerunning trip we took. It was back when we were dating."

"What?"

His expression changed in a blink of an eye. The boyish grin fell and the mirth in his eyes faded away.

I quickly rolled off him, giving him what space he may need.

"He's my ex-boyfriend," I shrugged off, reaching up to run my fingers through Bucky's hair only to have him flinch into the bed. "Hey, Bu-Buddy. Don't worry about it. We're good friends now."

'Who only "talk" a few times a year....'

I placed both hands on his head, pushing the pads of my fingers against his skull. Anything to try and distract him or to calm him. It seemed to work. He was relaxing.

"You didn't make that jump."

"Huh?"

"You didn't make that jump," he repeated calmly.

"How the hell do you know that? No one's guessed it before."

"I didn't guess. The shadow on the wall. The building is 85 centimetres in front of you. 7 centimetres below your foot. You didn't make the jump. Not with that trajectory."

Was this his super sniper training? The ability to do whatever the fuck just spewed out of his mouth?

Gramps said he was good, but this was... this was something else.

'Hydra....'

The Bucky in Gramps' stories used inches and feet not the metric system. He was even the one who sat down long enough to teach Gramps the imperial system back when the old man was a kid.

So Bucky definitely used the imperial system back in the war.

Eve, doing her own thing, queued up the video clip. The one where I stupidly held my phone out to take.

Started with Devon and I leaping off one building. Then with a clatter, the phone bounced off the ledge falling to its death while I somehow managed to hang on by just my fingers.

Maybe not our smartest idea with only a couple months of parkour training.

"I ran the numbers. They're correct," Eve whispered, sending goosebumps down my arms.

"Eve, start up Wall-E again. Thanks."

As the movie continued on with Wall-E trying to hold EVE's hand, I gently urged Bucky back onto the pillow mountain, keeping in mind not to corner him. I settled in my spot and returned to my task of petting his head.

'Hold up a damn second. Where the hell did Bucky get Devon's name?'

None of my personal contacts had the right names. They were all desserts of some sort. Devon's being Boston Cream.

'...Holy shit, can he hear Eve in my ear? Healing enhancements and now hearing? What the fuck did Hydra do to him?'

And that was when it really sunk in, just how different the man I shared a house with was compared to the man I grew up listening to stories about.

For a short moment, those blue eyes were so bright, free of all the horrors that came with war and Hydra. Would remembering all that be worth it?

There were people who'd love to have him back, his Captain, Gramps. The expectations could break him, but maybe they'd remind him of the times of laughter and joy.

'Damn it, I shouldn't be comparing the two. He should have a chance to sort things out on his own terms.'

Resisting the urge to just bury him in pillows and blankets to keep the world away, I moved my fingers down to his neck to massage out the tension there. I couldn't tell if he was just made out of knots or if his muscles were really that hard.

He even gave a soft, content sounding sigh.

His breathing was calm, the movement moving my elbow. Even through the pillows his heartbeat could be heard thumping strong and steady. He was relaxed. If only he could be so normally.

But that was a tall order. The demons that haunt him were the making of others. None sof it his fault. Someone else would have done the job if he didn't. But he was the one suffering for it all.

This was one measly hour of peace.

But it was an hour, and that was something.

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. ** .

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Author's Note:

So... Happy Bucky popped out of nowhere for me. I have doubts he'd make a return (ant time soon if at all).

I can see a 15-23 year old Bucky teasing his little sisters and helping them in the same breath.

Also, out of curiosity, I looked into dating back in the 1930s and 1940s. Came out culture shocked. The whole "popularity" thing and the fact that "going stead" started because of the war. It makes sense....

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