Call It What You Want: Home Series 1 (Trans!Steve and Pan!Bucky Summer AU)

Eight

Seeing the row of shoes along the left side of the entryway wall, Steve slipped off his Vans. Using his foot to push his sneakers out of the way, Steve looked up. Immediately, his eyes started drinking in the interior. Pleasantly surprised by the mismatched patterns of the furniture and the bright sunny yellow walls of the living room.

Steve's eyes didn't know what they wanted to look at first. Jumping from one painting that was hanging on one of the walls to another one. Intrigued by all of them. Especially intrigued by the way that none of them should've worked together, but all of them complimented each other entirely.

"No way," caught Steve's attention. On the lime-green sofa, a brunette was laying in the living room, talking on the phone. Animatedly, she declared, "I knew that he liked her."

Bucky cleared his throat, to gain their attention. Once Bucky had it, he gestured down the short hallway to the left and told the pair, "You'll be staying in the guest room."

"Groovy," Natasha deadpanned, following Bucky down the hallway and into the room.

With their bags on the queen size bed with the handmade quilt, Steve went to enter the room. It just happened to be at the exact moment that Bucky went to exit. Not wanting to bump into each other, the pair took a step to the side. However, both ended up going the same way again.

Steve and Bucky were stuck in a dance of which-way-are-you-gonna-go for a few moments before Steve caved and stood still, so Bucky could decide. With a shy smile on his face, Bucky rubbed at the back of his neck. Bucky's gaze was downcast, and Steve pressed his lips together, so he wouldn't smile at the forming blush on Bucky's high cheekbones.

Finally, Bucky stepped around Steve and out of the room. Steve held himself and begged for the butterflies to stop bursting from their cocoons in his stomach. Knowing that if he didn't get a hold of himself, he'd be in for a doomed summer. Steve was so flustered that he didn't even realize that Natasha had crossed the room to close the door until the door harshly closed behind him.

"God, this is going to be a lo-ng summer," Natasha sighed with all the annoyance that she could currently muster. Plopping down on the bed, Natasha dramatically threw her arm over her face as she complained, "This house is already giving me a migraine."

"How?" Steve asked, moving towards the bed. Opening his duffle bag, Steve started unpacking. Making sure to put the large bag of licorice and his T on the dresser behind him. When Natasha didn't say anything, Steve admitted, "I think it's nice here."

"Of course, you do," Natasha scoffed and sat up. Running her hand through her gray bob, Natasha looked around the room.

And since Natasha was, Steve decided to, too. It was a simple room. Dresser, bed, side tables. A large window that looked out to the front yard and was framed on the outside by large lilac bushes. Steve smiled at that. Lilacs were his favorite.

"I mean," Natasha sneered, gaining Steve's attention again. Her face was twisted in disgust and her gaze was locked on a large metallic flower wall sculpture above the headboard. Natasha stated, "It's so... so..."

"Interesting," Steve supplied, intrigued by the piece of art. Mutely, Natasha nodded, still looking up at the sculpture.

"I guess," Natasha started, her face smoothing from the prior expression of disgust to one of fondness. She snorted, "It's perfect for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve scoffed, starting to unpack his clothes.

"Oh, c'mon," Natasha smiled, "It's you. It's something that's supposed to be delicate but is something strong. It's you."

Steve blushed at that. Purposely not looking at Natasha, Steve started placing his clothes in the dresser. Even though Steve hated being thought of as delicate and petite, he knew that Natasha was giving him a compliment. So, Steve decided to take it as a compliment. Especially when he turned back to look up at the sculpture.

Even Steve couldn't deny the similarities. Playfully, Steve sighed, "Well, shit."

Giggling, Natasha tossed a pillow at Steve while laying back on the bed. Stretching out her fishnet covered legs, Natasha crossed her ankles and stared up at the ceiling. Tugging her black Satan is my boyfriend cropped tee, so it touched the waistband of her high-waisted black shorts. Natasha stated, "It's hot as all hell here."

"Not the state for a black aesthetic, huh?" Steve teased, causing Natasha to toss another pillow his way.