Accidents Happen

Somethin' to Talk About

Morning came and with it brought the moment of truth.

"Are you ready for this?" you asked.

Bucky looked down at you, squeezed your hand intertwined with his, and gave a confident smile.

"I'm ready."

Taking a deep breath, you turned the door knob and walked into the hallway with Bucky beside you.

You walked at a leisurely pace toward the kitchen where you assumed most of the team would be for breakfast. After considering how best to "break the news", deciding from calling a weirdly formal meeting or telling people individually or, your personal favorite, walking into the room and yelling "HEY GUESS WHAT WE'RE DOING IT." But in the end, you and Bucky decided on none of them. Or any plan of any sort.

As morning broke, you had slipped out of Bucky's arms and into one of his long-sleeved shirts and a pair of boxers. He wore sweats and a tank top, more comfortable showing his metal arm around others these days. Your hair was an absolute mess, as was his. Frankly speaking, you both had sex hair. Which was actually part of the point.

Rounding the corner and stepping into the common area, all eyes were frozen on you and Bucky, an immediate silence falling over the whole room. Except for Natasha, who was engrossed in a file before her on the coffee table and speaking technical jargon about a future mission. Clint swatted at her arm for her attention as his focus remained on the pair of you.

"Ow! What are you—" she stopped when she followed Clint's gaze and all she could do was smirk and shake her head. Of course you would be so obvious.

From your state of dress, unkempt hair and fingers linked with Bucky's, not to mention that you were both clearly coming straight from the direction of YOUR room (his being on the other side of the tower), the general conclusion was obvious.

"Good morning," you muttered, stifling a yawn as you neared the kitchen. Bucky gave a small smile to the group, but still remained apprehensive.

Everyone started to thaw from their frozen state slowly, assessing the damage of their shock. Sam had overflowed his orange juice glass significantly, now reaching for a towel. Steve's toast finally popped up, thoroughly blackened now. Clint had a glob of jam that had dropped in his lap from his own toast that had been half way to his mouth. Natasha calmly took a sip of her coffee and raised an eyebrow at you. Finally catching Steve's eye, you gave a slightly embarrassed smile and shrugged. He looked at Bucky's grinning face and then back at you, and gave a nod with a half smile. He approved, it seemed. Steve was the very last person who would begrudge his best friend for finding happiness.

Smiling in return, you dropped Bucky's hand and unlocked your phone as you approached the stereo in the kitchen. Finding the song you had in mind (okay, so maybe you had planned a little), you connected your phone and pressed play.

The moment was just too perfect, you couldn't resist. You grinned at Bucky, starting to bob your head to the music and sway your hips. You sang along as the incredibly fitting lyrics began.

"People are talking, talking about people

I hear them whisper, you won't believe it

They think we're lovers, kept undercover

I'll just ignore it, but they keep saying we

Laugh just a little too long

Stand just a little too close

We stare just a little too long

Maybe they're seeing something we don't, darlin'"