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

Twenty-Five

After his morning with Bucky, Steve couldn't help but wonder if he had made it all up. Surely, they had hit it off, right? It wasn't just Steve's imagination, was it?

No, Steve knew that his imagination was decent, but he wouldn't have been able to fabricate that feeling in the pit of his soul. The way that Bucky had taken care of his cereal bowl during a commercial break. Or how Bucky refilled Steve's coffee in between the two films; even remembering the three scoops of brown sugar. Bucky had done that. All while shrugging off Steve's attempts to do the same for Bucky, to the tune of, "I don't mind, really," and, "you're the guest, allow me."

It just wasn't possible that Steve had imagined it. Especially not the gentle, soothing way that Bucky had spoken. Nor the way his kind grin crinkled all the way up to his mesmerizing eyes. And even if Steve's imagination was that good, he would've never been able to fabricate the exact musical tone Bucky's soft chuckles made at one of Steve's lame commentary.

Steve knew that his imagination was good. But it sure as hell wasn't that good. Yet...

The way that Bucky was practically avoiding Steve now, made Steve question himself. Question his memory and believe that perhaps it was just his imagination.

Long after everyone had woken up, Steve had expected... something. A shared glance. A knowing look. A comment about the movies. An offer to spend another Monday morning watching more monster flicks.

But nothing. Nothing happened.

Well, not nothing nothing. Bucky wasn't the best when it came to avoiding. He was clumsy. Tripping over the rug. Bumping into the wall. Accidentally knocking his knee against the coffee table as he walked around Steve, giving him enough space to make Steve feel like he was quarantined.

There was also the way that Steve would see the quick twitch of Bucky's eyes as he turned his gaze elsewhere. Almost as though Bucky had been watching him. Every time that Steve tried to catch him though, Bucky would already be looking at something else, making Steve question if Bucky was even looking at him in the first place.

It was maddening. Steve didn't know Bucky very well, but it reminded him of the relationships that he had witnessed and the games that his friends complained about. And if Steve was being honest -- even if it was only with himself -- it made Steve want to stay as far away from Bucky as possible.

Which was probably the exact reason why Steve and Bucky kept colliding.

Bucky walking around the sofa at the same time that Steve was standing, knocking their knees into each other while Steve fell back into his seat. Steve entering the kitchen just when Bucky exited, both having been hidden by the wall separating the first half of the kitchen and the living room. Knocking Steve right on his ass.

"I'm so sorry," Bucky apologized, extending his hand out to Steve.

Accepting the offer, Steve allowed Bucky to help him stand again, and curiously watched Bucky as his eyes roamed over Steve's body as though he was trying to see any wounds. Steve's brows furrowed as he yanked his arm from Bucky's grasp, causing Bucky to look at him.

With wide eyes, Bucky took a step back and apologized again, "Sorry."

Steve cleared his throat and, with furrowed brows, he assured, "It's okay."

But it sounded more like a question. Bucky's brows furrowed then and Steve tried not to get lost in the way his irises could drown him, knowing that they were even more powerful without the added layer of his glasses. Instantly regretting that he realized it while also wishing that Bucky had kept the glasses on.

"You sure?" Bucky asked, letting his gaze wander over Steve's petite frame.

Straightening his shoulders and standing a bit taller, Steve confirmed, "I'm sure."

"Okay," Bucky nodded, crossing his arms along his chest and averting his gaze.

"Okay," Steve echoed, quirking a brow at Bucky.

Realizing, not for the first time, that he could've spent hours studying Bucky. Days, even. Hell, Steve could've spent years finding out everything about Bucky and categorizing every little tick and twitch. Categorizing every little aspect of Bucky that made up Bucky.

And that terrified Steve.

Steve had never had such a connection with another living soul, bar Natasha. Had never had such a connection after knowing them for such a short amount of time. And Steve was absolutely terrified. This wasn't supposed to happen. Steve was supposed to be there for Natasha, for moral support.

Yet...

That was before Steve met Bucky.

And as Steve studied and categorized Bucky, he prayed to any deity listening that Bucky could feel even a fraction of what Steve was feeling. Even though Steve didn't know all the things that made up Bucky, he wanted the opportunity to discover them all. Steve could only hope that he'd be able to in his allotted time.