Sebastian Stan Short Stories

Bucky Barnes [19]

"Chase Part 2: The (Almost) Debriefing"

*

It took a lot of self-control not to spit my drink across the coffee table and laugh uncontrollably. Instead, I controlled myself and choked a little on my vodka tonic. 

Natasha was the only one without a drink, even though the vodka bottle was a short distance away from her. She was rubbing her temples with one hand and white-knuckling the arm of her chair with another. 

"Never in my life have I seen a debriefing go this far south with such incredible speed," she said. 

"Oh, I have," Bucky pointed out. I could feel him laughing, and his hand gripped my waist a little tighter. I had almost fallen out of his lap once already; he was obviously hoping it wouldn't happen again. 

"Do you remember when Morita found that crate of bourbon?" Steve asked. He was one of the lucky few people who wasn't sharing a seat or sitting in the floor. Wanda and Natasha had their own chairs, but Sam, Clint, and Scott were still arguing and begrudgingly sharing a plush loveseat meant for two much smaller people. 

"Oh, God. Five of us went through six liters of bourbon in less than twelve hours," Bucky reminisced. He had a wistful look on his face; it matched Steve's. "That after dinner debriefing was pointless."

"I'm just glad I was the only one without a hangover the next morning," Steve said with a shit-eating grin. Everyone in the room booed at him playfully and threw their crumpled up copies of Natasha's 'training report' in his general direction. 

"You know what," Sam threatened, "our next training exercise is going to be giving you a hangover. Tic Tac, think you can come up with some good, stiff booze for Cap here?"

"My degree is in electrical engineering," Scott pointed out. "I could shock him, but I don't want to. Look at him. That's America's sweetheart over there."

"America's former sweetheart," Clint jibed. He elbowed Sam in the ribs, and Sam promptly tried to shove Clint over the arm of the narrow couch. 

"We'll keep that shocking thing in mind for next time," Sam said while struggling against Clint. Scott tried to ignore them, but they kept bumping into him obliviously.

"Wait, so I get to play next time?" Scott asked excitedly. He immediately perked up, and the room laughed together. 

"It was a training exercise," Natasha interjected. "It wasn't play time."

"We were using paintballs and cheesy codenames," I argued. "It was play time."

"Says the woman who shot me in the gut after play time was over," Bucky deadpanned, gently squeezing my side and making me squirm at the ticklish feeling.

"You were bear-hugging me, and I saw a tactical advantage," I said, defending myself. 

"Nat already had the flag. You won," Bucky retorted. "No point in shooting me."

"Here they go," Wanda muttered, smirking. 

"Someone go get a knife so we can cut this sexual tension," Clint joked. Bucky and I both rolled our eyes, well accustomed to the pokes and prods our newfound relationship had earned us. As if to prove it didn't bother us, Bucky put his hand against my cheek and moved me in for a kiss. My free hand pushed into his hair, and my drink ended up pressed between our bodies. Our respective teammates whooped and hollered at the display. 

"At least you two made it through the exercise without sneaking off somewhere," Natasha allowed. 

"Cheers to that," Sam agreed. He raised his drink, and everyone else followed suit. Beer bottles and glad tumblers of liquor were lifted around the room, but Bucky and I finally blushed. There was another round of laughter before settled back down.