Hell's Angel [Bucky Barnes]

34 - Normal Setting, Not-So-Normal Person

34 – Normal Setting, Not-So-Normal Person

There's a point in your life where you realize you're out of the worst part of it. That you're now in the good part.

That's how I feel, acknowledging the metal arm around my waist, and James' face snuggling into my hair against my neck from behind. I'm hugging the pillow, wiggling to leave no space between us.

The traffic outside of our apartment is background noise. It doesn't bother me; I've learned to tune it out. Our alarm goes off, putting on a radio station that has music from back in the day. Sad part is that the alarm is set for noon in case neither of us gets up to turn it off beforehand.

"Sometimes I think one day we'll wake up back in the forties," I mutter into the pillow. "With the music."

"You like it." I feel his lips press into my right shoulder blade, where the red star is.

"Mm, I do." I turn in bed, and James moves away so that I can settle on my side and look at him in his morning glory. "Good morning. Wait, wait, good morning."

He smiles. "One step closer to being as good as me. Your annunciation could use some more work though."

"Always so critical." I grab James' head and push him towards me so we can share a lazy morning kiss. My hands trace down his front, feeling his hardened stomach. He kisses my forehead, and I close my eyes.

This has become a normal setting for us. It has been for about...a few months. We've been out of saving the world gig for that long, now. We almost forget what it's like to do so.

It was James' choice to live in New York, I wasn't picky about where we were as long as we stayed in the same place. And let me tell you, the first few weeks were the roughest. Between the nightmares, the shouting matches, and the PTSD between the two of us—oh, yeah, we were having the time of our lives.

Thankfully, that's the only rough patch we've suffered since leaving S.H.I.E.L.D. We still keep ties with a few select people (Steve, Tessa, Tasha, and a few others). We don't seem them very often though.

Adjusting to the mundane, normal life of a human being...it's been hard to deal with. We still look over our shoulders, flinch at loud noises, and get easily paranoid when we get a bad feeling in our gut. Our gut feelings are wrong now, compared to the days when they were actually right.

I can't speak for James, but, I don't feel like an ordinary citizen, even in a normal setting.

"Let's see, what should we do today?" I ask, opening my eyes. "Take a walk? Try and burn the place down with our food experiments? Cut your hair, maybe?"

"No to the last one." He pokes my nose.

"Fine." I pout. "One day, I'll get you, though. Just a trim, that's all I want, Jimmy."

James doesn't make a face. He's finally accepted that I'm calling him "Jimmy" no matter what. But I'm the only person allowed to call him that, no one else. I get personal claim on that nickname for him.

"I know what we can do," he says. "Actually, there's something I gotta show you."

"How about after breakfast?" My stomach roars, disrupting our conversation.

James slips out of bed, sweatpants only, while he tosses me one of his shirts. I pull it over my head, and it stops just above my knees. Just as my feet touch the floor, I'm grabbed from behind. I squeal, wriggling away as James nips on my neck.