For the Love of the Game // Bucky Barnes

Part Two

"How many times have I told you to bring a jacket to these things, Y/N? This is literally going on year three." Nat's voice carried through the parking lot of the stadium.

"I thought there was one in Thor's car! He must have taken it out, I swear."

The behemoth of a man walking ahead of you whipped his head around. "I would never! If a lady were to leave her belongings in my vehicle, I would keep them there."

Thor was an international student, and notorious for his proper speech, but it still caught you off guard at times. "Thor, I know," you hushed, "Play along, would you? Natasha's going to kill me if she thinks I didn't bring a jacket."

"You know just because you whisper, doesn't mean I can't hear you. I'm right here."

"Alright, so I didn't bring a jacket. Who knew it'd be cold in the middle of November?" you feigned shock, following Thor into the athlete's entrance of the stadium.

"Hm, I don't know, maybe you? You've only been going to school here for three years. God, you drive me insane sometimes."

Thor cut your bickering off, peeking his head through the locker room door. "I have brought the women with me. Are you all ready for them to enter?"

A chorus of agreements bounced off the concrete walls, and the door was swung open to reveal the team lounging around on wooden benches and carpeted floors. You made your way over to Bucky—trying to get interaction out of the way—but also attempting to remember the niceties you had gone over in your head during the car ride. Nat had said he wasn't so bad.

"Hey! My good luck charm," Bucky called out, watching you stalk over with his glove in your outstretched hand, "And she brought my glove! Been lookin' for that thing everywhere. Thanks, doll."

"Don't mention it," you gritted out, relaxing as you remembered your intentions. "You, uh, dropped it last night in the library." You sent him a small smile for good measure.

"You two hung out?" Sam asked, perplexed.

Bucky grinned widely and threw his arm around you, the rough material of his jersey scratching at your neck. "'Course we hung out, Wilson. I'm always tryna spend time with my best girl over here."

"You told me you were gonna try and get Steph to let you into her dorm last night. What happened to that plan?" And just like that, you were tossing his arm off of you.

"Classy, Barnes," you chided, pushing his glove into his hand.

"What—Oh, come on, Y/N, it was a joke! I wasn't gonna go to her dorm. We all talk like that on the way home from games."

"That's a stupid joke."

"I know, I know. I just—wait." You spun on your heel, making your way over to Nat in the corner of the room. "Hang on. I'm sorry, it was a dumb joke. Won't make one like it again, scouts honor."

You glanced at his hand over his heart and raised your brow. "Were you even a boy scout?"

"Do ya have to be?" Your sigh was deep and tired as you continued your trek away from him. He rushed to grab your arm. "Okay—wasn't a boy scout—just hang on a sec. Let me walk you to the stands, yeah? You know they'll kick you out if one of us isn't with you."

"Steve'll be with me."

He glanced over your shoulder. "Steve already left, doll."

You spun around, searching for your best friend you had seen moments ago, only to find that Bucky was telling the truth. They never left without you; without a ticket or a player escorting you, the stadium had very strict guidelines to remove you from the premises.