Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

6. BUCKY: Netflix and Not-So Chill

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: Language

           

You're all bundled up on the big couch downstairs with a bowl of popcorn and the lights dimmed low. You're snuggled in the middle of the sofa with pillows all around and blankets wrapped over your shoulders. It's a cold January night to say the very least. Even with efficient heating you've managed to catch a chill. In FRIDAY's defense though, you most likely caught Jack Frost's bite on your walk home from work rather than in the warmth of her Stark Tower walls.

"Well don't you look cozy," Captain America can be heart chittering. He makes his way into the kitchen which is just behind you.

"I am rather cozy, thank you very much." You take a handful of popcorn before craning your neck back to see him, Sam Wilson, and James Buchanan Barnes waltzing into the common space. The presence of the third man sends your heart into a bit of a frenzy. "What are you three doing down here?"

"Getting food," Sam answers. They're hustling around the fridge now, looking very akin to savage beasts.

An eyebrow cocks up on your forehead. Chewing on some popcorn you suppose, "Don't you all have your own apartments? You know, with your own kitchens?"

"Sure, doll," Bucky responds. "But we don't have your fancy little boxed leftovers in our own kitchens."

"Touché."

Sam takes a dramatic whiff of the air. "Do I smell popcorn?"

"You sure as hell do," you laugh. You hold up the bowl so that the light from the loading Netflix screen illuminates it. "Want some?"

"Of course I do!" Sam launches himself onto the lounge chair across from you. He helps himself to a rather generous handful. He cranes his neck to the TV. "What are we watching?"

"Not sure. I'm still deciding between Armageddon and Step Up. Atlantis was on the table, but I just watched that last week."

"What're they about?" Steve asks. He comes into the room with a box of Raisin Bran cereal. No milk or utensils—just the box and his hand dunked inside of it.

"First one's about an alien attack," Sam answers for you.

Steve chuckles and drops onto the couch next to you. "Sounds extremely familiar. What about the other?"

"A coming of age teen movie about a boy growing up in the projects, kind of a rough and closed-off type, falling in love with a ballet dancing protégé who needs his help to follow her dreams. A modern classic, really. Dewan and Tatum have the best chemistry of all time. And the dynamics between them and the other characters are unparalled by any of the other teen flicks of the time."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Okay, IMBD. Don't have to get so fancy-schmancy."

"What can I say?" You shrug. "I'm a movie fanatic."

"Okay movie fanatic. I'm in." Steve settles down into the couch. "But you have to share the blankets."

"Aww come on."

He holds out a hand and a twinkle dances in his eyes. "Come on, sport. At least give me one."

You huff, "Sir yes sir."

"Do we have milk,Y/N?" Bucky can be heard hollering—his head deep in the fridge.

"Yep. Check behind the iced tea pitcher, Buck," you call out.You've tossed the remote to Sam so that he can find the movie.

"Found the milk."

Sam grunts. "You better not be drinking it straight from the goddamn carton this time, Barnes. Fucking disgusting is what that is."