Cap Quartet One Shots (Romanogers)

The one with the triangle (pt3)

A/N: better late than never guys, another half a year wait but here you go. I'm fully aware I could've ended this happily but my periods due and I therefore I'm desperately miserable.

"Hey, Buck! Come here, man!" Steve says, leaping off the bed to greet him. My eyes are wide as the two of them do that weird man-hug where they slap each other on the back. How can I possibly tell Steve now? Confessing to a love affair with his best friend is the last thing I want to do in this moment, but I fear that everything is about to rise to the surface.

"Steve! How you been?" they release each other and remember that I am also in the room. I think the gravity of the situation is just hitting Bucky; he looks at me with knowing eyes. I almost believe he understands what this all means, but then he picks up his shirt that's been draped over my bedpost and exclaims, "I've been looking for this for weeks!" And just like that, my faith in men disintegrates.

Bucky glances at the time. "Oh shoot, I need to be  somewhere. Listen, let's catch up, say, tomorrow?" He rushes out unaware, leaving Steve and I alone again. Suddenly neither of us are hungry for pizza. Steve stands with his arms across his chest, in the middle of the room. I'm sitting on the bed but I can't bear to look up from the carpet I'm forcing my eyes to focus on. Maybe the jet lag will have kicked in, and he won't have pieced it together yet. Maybe I still have time to change the subject before he can ask any questions.

That's when his eyes start really scanning my room. I know what he's looking for, and the fact that neither Bucky nor I are efficient at tidying means that he finds what he's looking for. A pair of socks here, a button down shirt there, and - another toothbrush in the bathroom. He diverts his attention back to me; I wish I could bury myself in the blankets and never emerge.

"Natasha," Steve says in a tone that gives away nothing, and therefore everything.

"Steve..." I can feel my heart in my throat.

"Natasha, you know I won't make assumptions, but I need you to tell me that this isn't what it looks like," he pauses. "Please."

I can hardly bring myself to look at him. "You know I can't do that." He shifts his body language. "I can't lie to you, Steve."

"Then tell me what this is. Tell me-" he snaps across the room, and picks up one of Bucky's shirts, "why you have these in your room. I have to hear it, Natasha." He holds it in his fist like it's going to run away.

"Don't make me say it," my throat feels tight, I can barely get my words out. My heart rate is rising and my breathing speeding up, six months' worth of guilt and secrecy and longing all finally taking their place at the forefront of my emotions.

He throws the shirt on the floor and puts his hands on his head, raking his grown-out hair backwards. This sudden shift in emotion catches me off guard, but I know it's what he's been holding in all this time.

He takes a breath in, chewing his words before speaking hesitantly, "Is this - is this what happened after six months? Did you mean..."

I don't look up. Hell, I don't know if I even remember to breathe. I know Steve too well to allow myself the privilege of staying silent.

"Would you believe me if I told you it wasn't serious?" It's unfortunate how deeply he understands my expressions; every word I say it's like the soul that it's come from is his own.

"My god, Natasha, his toothbrush is in your bathroom, and you think that's not serious?" He turns his face away from me and it's like a knife to the heart.
I finally rise from the bed, my legs a little shaky from this chaotic combination of insomnia and anxious adrenaline.

"You have to believe me, Steve. I can't face myself otherwise," I plead, moving closer. "Please just look at me." He reluctantly looks into my eyes, his emotions swirling in the salty tears gathering on his waterline.

"I'll listen, you know I will, but-" he pauses, like it pains him to say the next few words, "I can't promise I'm going to trust what you're saying is true."

"I know you can't," I reply, breaking eye contact. It would be unfair for either of us to promise anything right now; how can we, after all that's happened? We sit down on the carpet, crumpled clothes around us and leaning side by side against the wall. It's where we used to sit before he went away, just the same, apart from the growing chasm between us. I have just the faintest hope that my next words could begin to close the gap.

He looks at me as I begin to speak, but I don't meet his gaze. I can't, not until he's heard the whole story, anyway. "When I didn't hear from you, I thought you didn't care anymore. That whatever there was between us wasn't real, and that- and that you didn't care about me. Not really, anyway. I felt stupid for believing that you would feel that way for me." I pause, but he doesn't take the opportunity to speak.
"Six months went by, and then there was the bi-annual team dinner. And Bucky -" his expression changes at the mention of Bucky's name. "He was there, of course. And he was- oh, he was so attractive, Steve. I'm sorry," my voice finally breaks, a crack in the floodgates fighting against the pressures of guilt and love. He moves towards me carefully, like he's afraid to make a wrong move. His face is still turned away. The silence is loud; I can hear my quick heartbeat speed up as he takes a deep breath.

"Please just look at me, Steve," I plead quietly. "You're acting like I'm - dirty."

"It's not that. You're not. I-" he shuts his eyes. "It's just a lot to process, that's all."

"Hey, listen" I say, beginning to sense the undertones of his voice again. "You can stop now."

"Stop what?" He looks at me, and one glimpse of his eyes makes me tear up all over again.

Has he really been away so long that he doesn't understand what I mean anymore? And here I was thinking he'd not changed. "Come on, Steve, we both know what's going on here."

"Natasha, you're not making any sense."

I pause, concerned I've been mistaken. All this time, all this guilt; I'm spent. "You can stop acting like you were ever in love with me."