Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Steve had barely gotten the twins in the door when someone knocked at it. He was surprised to see Sam on the other side of it (a) because Sam hadn’t really ever been the knocking kind and (b) he looked like he was here to tell Steve he’d accidentally run over the family dog. Steve frowned and motioned for Sam to step inside, but Sam just shook his head.

“Is Bucky here?” He asked. Steve’s frowned deepened.

“He’s at the grocery store.” Steve told him. He couldn’t help his small smile when he tacked on. “We’re having a little taco night at Casa Rogers tonight.”

Sam didn’t even mock his corny Spanish accent, so Steve knew it was serious.

“What’s going on, Sam?” He asked. Sam sighed and finally stepped inside.

“I asked around about Kronos and James Hubbard at work. Used our database, probed some of my more connected bosses. And here’s the thing, none of them wanted to talk to me about it.” Sam shook his head again and pulled two files out of the inside of his jacket. “Which of course means that there’s something to not talk about. So I kept going. And I searched for this James Hubbard directly.”

Steve crossed his arms. “I’m assuming you found something or you wouldn’t be here.”

“Steve, he’s not a good man.” Sam told him urgently. Steve glanced to see if the twins overheard.

“I don’t think you need to be so dramatic.” Steve chided. “He’s been here for almost two weeks and he’s been fine. The kids love him. He’s out doing our grocery shopping for Christ’s sake.”

Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I’m not saying he’s the devil incarnate.”

“Sam.” Steve’s tone was a warning.

“Why are you do defensive of some man who was literally so awful to you that you committed a felony to get back at him?” Sam snapped. He dropped the two files on the coffee table and pointed at them. “Before you go claiming I’m being dramatic read these.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You can’t just tell me what they say?”

“James Hubbard didn’t exist a year ago.” Sam told him.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Look at the documents. Some of them are dated earlier. It’d be convincing if I didn’t know better but someone created James Hubbard as a very convincing business mogul, shady business dealings and all, about thirteen months ago. There’s no concrete trace of him before then.” Sam’s arms were crossed in front of his chest and his mouth had straightened in to a tight line. Steve’s mouth dropped open.

“Who was he before then?” Steve asked. Sam shrugged.

“Great question. I have no idea.” Sam scratched his chin. “And nobody I talked to did either. He was a ghost before then. As far as we can tell, he didn’t exist.”

Steve’s stomach started tying itself in knots. “And he won’t remember either. The amnesia.”

He trailed off. Sam just shook his head. Steve settled on to the couch and put his head in his hands because it had started pounding. He didn’t know what to do. Sam sat down on the couch next to him and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Just take a look at it.” Sam told him. “Like you said, he’s been here two weeks. I don’t think you’re in any danger. He’s just-”

Steve scoffed. “Danger?”

“Steve.”

“He’s got no life for us to help him back to now.” Steve told him. Realization seemed to dawn on Sam that Steve wasn’t concerned for himself, but for Bucky. “We’ve removed him from the hospital. I thought I’d be able to tell him ‘oh, hey, here you go. here’s your life back’ and go on my way. But now we don’t even know what that life is.”

Sam laughed to himself. “You’re something else. You don’t even know him.”

“He’s not evil. Or dangerous. I know him.” Steve insisted.

“I’ll see what I can find for you.” Sam told him, nodding his head multiple times in a row quickly.

“I know him.” Steve insisted. Sam just smiled and stood, walking out without saying anything else.

Steve was left in the living room staring at the two thick folders sitting on the coffee table. He didn’t want to touch them. Somehow it was like they were contaminated and he couldn’t bring himself to get infected. He didn’t even want to know. It wasn’t like he’d brought Bucky in to his house with the utmost trust and confidence. The man slept locked in his damn garage.

He was still there when, twenty minutes later, he heard the twins start to stomp their way up the stairs for dinner. They turned around when Steve told them that Bucky hadn’t even gotten home yet. Steve glanced to the clock. He definitely should have been back. He stood and shoved the folders into the couch cushions just as the front door swung open and Bucky stumbled in to the house loaded with bags and a panicked expression.

“Did you see Sam on your way in?” Steve teased him. Bucky just looked confused.

“What?” He asked. Steve just smiled through it.

“He stopped by. I thought you might have passed him.” Steve explained. It didn’t make Bucky relax at all. He remained tense and uncomfortable.

“No.” Bucky told him, his face too serious for the lighthearted question.

Steve helped him tuck the groceries in to the cabinets and pull out what he needed for the taco night. He caught Bucky’s hand shaking as he put the meat in the fridge. Steve caught the hand in his own and squeezed it. Bucky practically jumped at the contact. Steve didn’t let go until Bucky sighed and relaxed slightly.

“The grocery store was weird.” Bucky told him. Steve’s wondered what about it had been hard, wondering if it had anything to do with something in those files. Bucky smiled at him though and Steve let his hand drop.

“Let’s make some tacos.” He told him.

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James ducked in to the garage while the taco meat was cooking on the stove. He wanted to check his gear. He’d feel a little more solid if he felt like his base was secure. So when Steve said he’d chop the tomatoes and the meat needed to simmer, he stepped away.

The bag was in one of the beat up cardboard boxes off to the side of the garage. The second one down in it’s stack so that someone poking through boxes wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it. It had been the most secure hiding place he could find in his little garage. He’d pulled all of the ammunition out and stacked it on the other side of the room, just in case, so that if one stash was found then the rest would still be a little bit safe.

And in his third hiding spot, inside the spare tire that didn’t even fit the car that Steve drove anymore, he’d stacked anything else he’d wanted safe. The phone sat right on top. James pulled it out and pressed the button, waiting for it to power on.

It had been a few days since he called any of his support numbers. James hadn’t wanted to call in again because every time that he reached the mocking robotic voice he felt worse and worse about it. And he hadn’t wanted to call in to the live line because if someone was tracking him that could bring some sort of trouble on Steve.

But now he didn’t think he had a choice.

Not only had James had two run ins with goons in the past two days, he now knew that they were staying here and tracking him. Maybe even keeping him under surveillance. Keeping Steve and the twins under surveillance. If James’ cover had been blown, that was one thing. But they weren’t actively trying to kill him at the moment, that he could tell, which honestly concerned him more.

If a target wasn’t taken out immediately, it was because they still had value. The only times James had stalked his prey instead of taking them out was when he was waiting for them to lead him to a higher value target. And the only higher value people around James at the moment were Steve and his friends, assuming the twins weren’t on anybody’s radar.

He picked up the phone and dialed from memory.

It was a number that would only work with the sat phone’s encryption key. And only reached one person within Hydra. It took about twenty seconds while James waited as several loud clicks connected him to the line he needed before it started ringing. It only rang three times before the phone connected and a rough voice answered.

“Pierce.” It snapped, irritated at the interruption.

“Asset reporting in.” James said sharply. “32557038.”

There was a short pause and a sigh before Pierce scoffed. “Mr. Barnes. Are you not dead yet?”

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Dinner was practically silent. Steve was about to knock his own plate off of the table for no other reason than getting Bucky to look him straight in the eye. Or maybe he wanted Bucky to never look at him again. He wasn’t sure. It was about a 50/50 split, if he was being honest. Things hadn’t improved when, after Bucky had forgotten about the ground beef and let it burn, Wanda had started crying about the smoke detectors going off. The meat was only slightly charred, and the flavor packet helped mask most of the burnt taste. Almost. If it was swallowed with a tall glass of water.

The twins had each eaten three as if they were covered in chocolate.

Steve was only a little sure that they were doing it solely out of affection for Bucky, who’d apologized approximately fifteen thousand times for the burnt food.

He managed to choke down four (they were small) mostly by focusing on the folders on the couch that he hadn’t had time to hide any better. If Bucky went to sit on the couch, he’d see them. And Steve didn’t know how to explain it to him yet. Not when he didn’t know everything. Not when Bucky would be faced with a million more questions and nobody to trust.

Bucky nudged his shoulder and Steve realized he had been staring at his plate for too long.

“It’s just tacos.” Bucky teased him. “I hope they’re not too confusing for you.”

Steve’s mouth opened and shut before he cracked into a smile.

“I’m just trying to find meat that’s not burnt.” Steve told him. Bucky laughed.

“There’s not any. I checked.” Bucky admitted. Steve laughed with him. Wanda’s fork hit the plate.

“If we know it’s bad does that mean we don’t have to eat it?” She asked. Pietro’s  fork hit the table with a clang just like his sister’s as he nodded in agreement. Then he looked over at Bucky and said something in Sokovian with an sheepish grin. Whatever Bucky responded with, Pietro relaxed.

“Does that mean ice cream?” Pietro asked.

Steve sighed, surveying the table. Despite the mess, they’d still managed to eat most of it. “Yeah.”

“Yes!” Wanda cheered.

“And a movie?” Pietro pressed. Steve considered. It was a school night and already getting late.

“How about a TV show?” He compromised. That way he’d only partially be a horrible father.

It was only once the twins cheered and took off for the living room that Steve realized the flaw in his plan. It involved bringing them all in to the very room that Steve wanted to keep everyone out of. His suddenly nauseous stomach wasn’t helped by Bucky showing up at his elbow with a smile and a bottle of wine.

“Want something for desert besides ice cream?” He offered. Steve’s gaze fell down to the bottle.

He could use some alcohol right about then.

“Sure.” Steve nodded. “But you need the corkscrew.”

Bucky nodded to himself and turned around. Steve practically dove for the couch and yanked the files out from under the cushion and tucked them underneath the pile of magazines on the bottom shelf of the side table. Not ideal, but better than Bucky sitting on them.

His reassurance was weakened slightly when Pietro started slamming the remote on to the table.

Immediately, Bucky tucked Pietro under his arm and nicked the remote from his hands.

“I can’t get the TV to turn on.” Pietro told him quietly.

“Then just ask me for help. It’s probably broken.” Bucky said quietly. “We can figure it out together, okay?”

Pietro just nodded, but his face was still pinched angrily.

“So, how do we turn it on?” He asked. Pietro pressed the TV button and the power button. The screen flickered to life on to the evening news. Pietro cheered his success, but Steve watched Bucky’s face fall. And hard. It looked like all of the color drained out of his face.

On the screen, a bland anchor was discussing the ongoing murder investigation of a man in the downtown area. Authorities hadn’t identified him, but he appeared to be a businessman with ties to the area who was visiting from his home out of state. Any tips or information on his identity would be appreciated. Steve listened to it intently, switching between watching the screen and Bucky’s face. It was still blanched. He looked practically nauseated when the man’s face popped up on to the scream.

“You okay?” Steve asked him. Bucky cleared his throat, nodding.

“Yeah, fine.” But he set Pietro down. “I think I’m going to go shower or something, actually.”

Both Wanda and Pietro whined. “But the TV show.”

“Just watch the show.” Steve said quietly, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “We’re all here. It’s okay. No need to get anxious. We’re just going to sit and watch some TV, okay?”

Bucky was tense but he nodded a few times. “Yeah. Okay. That’s fine. Yeah. We can do that.”

“Yeah?” Steve smiled at him, settling onto the couch and piling the twins on to his and Bucky’s laps. Human contact was meant to help ease anxiety right? Steve figured both he and Bucky could use some anxiety relief at the moment.

It took Bucky a full fifteen minutes to relax into Steve’s side. Another fifteen minutes after that, both Pietro and Wanda were asleep. Steve waited until he was sure they were all the way out before turning to Bucky, who was relaxed, but still frowning at the kid’s show on the TV show as if it personally offending him. Steve used the arm he’d slung over Bucky’s shoulder to squeeze and get his attention.

“You want to talk about it?” He asked Bucky. Bucky shrugged in response.

“It’s fine.” Bucky whispered. He looked over at Steve and smiled softly. “Thanks for asking.”

Steve just smiled back at him. “I’m here if you need me.”

When Bucky looked away from him instead of responding, Steve ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach.

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James was fried. Absolutely fried. He had no way to stop the jangling feeling in his nerves. Like a live wire touched underneath his skin. It had started when Steve had touched his shoulder the night before. James had looked up at him and just known that they were in danger. All of them. Not that ‘oh-someone-might-come-by’ from before, but in a ‘we’re definitely on the to-do list’ way.

The man on the news had been Abramovich.

But the manner of his death was textbook Hydra. Anonymous assassination.

Actually, textbook Rumlow.

Which meant that there was something wrong with Hydra. Pierce admitted to wanting him dead. Now this man, their target, was assassinated instead of being brought to justice. There was no mention of guns seized. Or his past as a black market arms dealer. No, what the public got to know was the cover story. The good man with charitable organizations and dozens of employees. Not the conman with the enterprise that cost hundreds- if not thousands- of lives over the past five years.

And he was actually supposed to be working, though he’d spent thirty minutes of the past two hours standing in the back alley with his head between his knees trying to figure out what to do next. He couldn’t run, not when people could see Steve or the twins as leverage over him. He couldn’t go to anyone else, because Hydra was authorized at the highest levels. The only thing he could think of was to stay. Stay and protect Steve.

He nearly jumped out of skin when the door to the alley slammed open.

Natasha looked at him in concern. “Get out of here. If you leave now you’ll make it home for dinner.”

Great. Another dinner James could ruin. He shook his head, and was about to tell her no, when he changed his mind. He needed to talk to Steve. “Thanks. I’ll get this sorted out and be back tomorrow, okay? I’ve just…I’ve got to do this.”

Natasha didn’t seem relieved at all. She looked more concerned. “Yeah. Get out of here.”

The house was too close to the shop. James got there and then didn’t know what to do with himself when his feet didn’t want to go into the house. He ended up sitting in the driveway for five minute just waiting to get the motivation to inside. Once he did, he found Steve working with his headphones in on a painting in the garage.

“You’re home.” Steve stood from his stool. James just stared at him.

He looked so happy to see him. James was staring at his painting.

It was a portrait of him. Sort of. But his face was open. Vulnerable. It made James feel exposed.

“You’re painting me?” James asked him. Steve looked embarrassed.

“I am.” He admitted.

His expression went from tentative to embarrassed as he realized James’ unease.

“I can scrap it.” Steve said quickly. He immediately moved to pull the painting off of the easel. James reached forward quickly and grabbed his arm to stop it.

“Don’t.” He said earnestly. “I just didn’t expect it.”

Steve smiled. “I didn’t either.”

His smile was so warm, and James was already so thrown from the entire day, that he felt almost like he was going to start crying. He felt hollow. Like he was standing on ground that was slowly caving inwards. It certainly felt like falling at least. The feeling quickly descended into panic and James had to leave. He was suddenly being propelled forward, back in to the house. Steve followed him as he moved back into the house. James only moved faster, because he couldn’t escape the feeling of being trapped.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked him. James just huffed.

“I can’t do this anymore.” James told him finally, spinning on his heel to face him.

Steve just stared at him in disbelief. “Can’t do what anymore? This? Me?”

“Jesus, Steve. It’s nothing to do with you.” But James stopped Steve from getting any closer and leaned backwards. He needed out. And he needed out immediately. He didn’t know what Steve was trying to get at. None of it made any sense. “I just need to get out. I’m going to go for a run. Just have some wine. I’ll see you when I get back.”

He stomped past Steve, ignoring his protests and questions, back into the garage.

The door to the garage slammed shut behind him. He wanted to get out. He needed to get out. And those words just kept repeated like a mantra in his brain. Get out get out get out get out. James felt trapped and couldn’t get himself out of the house fast enough.

He grabbed workout clothes and dressed quickly. He’d make a pass around the neighborhood to check for Rumlow. Or the grocery buying goons. Because, Jesus, it really looked like Hydra was behind this. James couldn’t really wrap his mind around it. Why? Had Abramovich just offered too much money for Pierce to pass up? And at that point, why not just scrap the entire op?

He spun, frustrated, and ran a hand over his face. He needed to remember to breathe. James took a moment to sit in the garage. This was coming to an end. And soon. Either because someone was going to come for him, or he was going to run. And not just around the block, but for good. He absolutely hated the thought, which was a feeling he wasn’t prepared to examine. His eyes avoided the painting of his own face sitting in the corner.

The door swung open, and Steve leaned against the frame, staring at him. James just let him stare for a second, waiting for Steve to work his way around to whatever it was that he wanted to say.

“Are you actually leaving right now?” Steve asked him from the garage door.

James glared and then had to remind himself that it wasn’t Steve he was mad at. “Yes.”

But he stomped past him either way.

-----------------------------

He left. He actually fucking left. Steve couldn’t believe it. He was shocked.

Clearly something was wrong with James. And it had something to do with the news show they’d watched the night before. Steve rubbed his face and went back out to the garage where he’d been working when James got home. The painting had only started to take shape that morning and Steve hadn’t hated it. In all honesty, he’d been surprised how easily the sketched underlying drawing had been to do. The features were sharp in his mind.

And opening the wine had, somehow, only made the features sharper.

So Steve had excused the continued drinking by saying it was to help himself focus. To cut lose after a long day. Week. Two weeks. Had Bucky already been there for two weeks?

He didn’t even want to look at the painting any more. He’d been staring at it all day. His frustration both with it and its subject was almost enough to make him put his fist through it. Steve stomped back into the house and went directly to the top of the large cabinet that he kept the fine china in. On top of it was the two folders that Sam had given him. Steve had avoided them all day, but needed to know now what they said. Bucky’d been acting too weird.

The first file was thinner, but still had about a hundred sheets of paper in it.

When he flipped the first page open he found that it was a police report. Because that was reassuring. Bucky’s face looked back at him from the mugshot with an arrogant smirk that Steve remembered from that afternoon on the terrace, but that he hadn’t really seen since. It felt foreign to see it again.

He didn’t read the description from the report but looked at the list of previous charges.

-Possession of a Firearm without a License

-Illegal Sale of a Firearm

-Illegal Possession of a Class 1 Weapon

-Possession of a Schedule 1 Narcotic

-Possession with Intent to Distribute

Steve stopped reading when he hit the bottom of the first page. He couldn’t even bring himself to turn it until he went and fetched the bottle of wine. It became a game. Read something horrifying about the stranger living in his garage, take a drink, read something horrifying, take a drink. Rinse and repeat. By page three he’d finished the entire bottle. Just in time to read the pencil scrawled note in an unfamiliar handwriting at the bottom of an invoice supposedly for the business license for Kronos.

Not actually filed? KRONOS DOES NOT EXIST.

Records trace back to AP.

Which floored him. Sure, Steve had remembered Sam saying that there had been a discrepancy. That something in Bucky’s records didn’t add up. But Kronos had their building in town. He’d seen it. Their logo was familiar enough that he could probably sketch it freehand from memory.

And who was AP?

Sighing, Steve went for the next bottle of wine and decided to keep the game going.

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It was several hours later when James got back. He’d managed to distract himself pretty thoroughly with a long run around the block. Three times. A few of the neighbors had seen him out and about and looked at him as if he had completely lost his mind. But James was on edge. He had lost his mind. Oh, and somebody was still trying to kill him.

As he pulled himself back into the driveway and slowed his run to a walk, he figured he had gotten himself calm enough to go back in to Steve. Less likely to freak out just because his husband smiled at him or said something sweet.

The front door was slightly ajar. James immediately went on edge. He went sideways towards the garage, grabbed the gun from his hiding spot, and being as silent as he could possibly manage, and made his way into the small living space inside.

“Steve.” He called. “Are you here?”

No answer.

“I’m back from my run.” He circled in to the kitchen and saw a pile of bottles on the table. Interesting.

From there he went in to the living room and found his husband giggling into the small remote in his hands as he tried- and failed- to tell it to search for Real Housewives. His giggles and his slurred speech made it unintelligible mumbling that the remote couldn’t understand.

James felt relief flood his entire body. He’d been so scared. There was the issue now of standing in his own living room pointing a gun at his very shockingly, but adorably, inebriated husband, which James doubted Steve would appreciate. So, he stashed the gun behind the hideous porcelain vase the Steve wouldn’t get rid of and cleared his throat. It finally got the attention of Steve, who turned and looked over at him with a wide grin. The sheer absurdity of it made James laugh.

“Hi.” Steve said it and then burst in to a fresh round of laughter.

“Hi.” James responded with smile. He dropped onto the floor next to Steve.

“Hi.” Steve repeated. James laughed. They’d be here all night at this rate.

“You’re plowed.” He told Steve, grinning.

“A little.” Steve admitted. He held up two pinched fingers, studied them, and then widened the gap by about two inches. James laughed. If the bottles in the kitchen were any indication, Steve’s guess was just a little bit light.

“That so?” James asked. Steve just shrugged, putting on an innocent face.

“I don’t know how it happened.” He told James. There was an empty glass in front of him that they both glanced at before looking back at each other. Steve grabbed the glass and tipped it upside down to prove that it was empty. “Prol’ly because I kept drinking.”

God, he was adorable. James grinned.

“Did you eat anything?” James asked him. It had been hours since their lunch date.

“Nope.” Steve shook his head and then shrugged. “I forgot.”

This was apparently so funny that he burst out in to laughter again. James shook his head.

“Let’s get you upstairs, babe.” He tried to get Steve to stand up by poking his side but it didn’t work.

Jesus, his husband was a heavy lump of muscle. James stood and tried to lift him, but Steve barely even budged. Like, not even an inch. James shifted and tried another angle but similarly had no luck whatsoever in his attempt to lift him.

“Don’t want to help me?” James asked him. Steve shook his head.

“Nope.” He looked perfectly content to let James try to wrestle him up without help.

James should just leave him there. He considered it for a moment but decided he couldn’t. He’d be kind.

“I’m just going to let you sleep here.” James threatened, even though he’d just decided he wouldn’t.

“What?” Steve asked him as James tried pulling him again. “No goodnight kiss?”

If there were a proverbial pail of cold water that would have been the moment it dropped on James’s head. He could practically feel it dripping down his back. But, unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of it. Because as James gaped, staring down at Steve as he grinned up at James clearly very proud of his own wit, Steve leaned in and kissed him.

It was a good kiss. Enough that, for a split second, James stopped thinking about their situation and the complications (and the fact that his husband was so far beyond being sober enough to consent to anything). But then reality came rushing back in and James had to push him away roughly. Steve just laughed as if the whole situation was hilarious.

“Come back down here.” Steve patted the carpet next to him. “Let’s do that again.”

James wished the ground would open him up and take him to hell. He’d prefer it to this. “Bed time.”

“Bed?”

James wished he didn’t catch the way Steve’s whole expression lit up at the idea. Crazy man.

“Cut it out.” He swatted Steve’s hand away from where it was trailing up his shirt.

“Don’t wanna.” Steve went to put his hand right back where he was. James shuddered, but just let him. The fingers on the hot skin of his stomach were the absolute worst kind of torture but, honestly, James deserved it for being the worst human being in existence.

“You’re impaired.” James explained to him. He finally leveraged Steve into a standing position.

“I feel fine.” Steve assured him. James rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you do.” He drawled. But the sarcasm was lost on Steve who just grinned.

“I really do.” Steve told him. The stumbled towards the stairs and landed against the stair railing. Steve’s hand wrapped itself around James’s wrist and held it against the bare skin of Steve’s side. He nuzzled his nose in to James’s hair. “See? Feels great. Doesn’t it.”

James’s only response was a lengthy list of (silent) swear words. On the outside, he said nothing. He was too busy trying to disentangle himself from Steve’s hands. Every time James detached him from one place, Steve’s other hand would have found another. It didn’t stop until James trapped both hands and pinned them to the wall, flipping Steve so his back was to the wall. James had to use his full body weight against Steve to hold him there. The result- the two of them pressed up against the wall roughly- was so close to James’s dream he had to force himself to think of folding t-shirts to feel marginally less dirty.

“Stop.” James growled. His throat was too tight and dry to do smooth or kind. Steve grinned insolently.

Every bad deed James had ever committed in his entire life led him to this exact moment.

“Behave yourself.” James insisted to Steve. He held on to his honor as tightly as he could.

Steve said nothing, though his grin didn’t even dim. James stepped back, putting in inch or two between them and pulling Steve towards the stairs. He could tell this gave Steve the wrong impression from the wicked grin Steve shot his way, but James didn’t care. If it got Steve upstairs and in to bed with a door between them, he’d take it. Gladly. He turned and pulled Steve behind him as he began climbing.

“James.” Steve’s voice was thick and, God help him, James turned to see what it was.

Steve yanked him down, kissing him again. James couldn’t get himself disentangled before he fell in to it. Honorable or not, he was human. And Steve kissed like he meant it. James could damn near feel it in his toes, and he certainly did feel it everywhere else. He finally pulled himself away, after a few minutes too long, with a regretful moan.”

“Steve.” He whispered, their faced still inched from each other. He laughed. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Steve just grinned. “I thought you were already crazy.”

James shouldn’t laugh. It shouldn’t be funny. But instead he found himself giggling like an idiot over the stupid joke with his drunk as fuck husband. The same husband that wasn’t actually his husband, thought he was an amnesiac, and now clearly wanted in to James’s pants. The feeling on that last part was mutual, but James couldn’t let anything happen while the rest was still between him. And with Steve this drunk. It was just all wrong. There was supposed to be candles and romance and probably poetry because his husband was a huge softy. Their first real kiss was not to be something horny and sloppy on their living room floor.

James went to start climbing, but as he did, he felt Steve’s fingers trailing up his side again. He swatted them away and kept climbing. Jesus, this was complicated. James just wanted to have sex with his husband, who he was surprised to find he actually cared about a great deal. Too bad it wasn’t that easy.

When they reached Steve’s door, James tried to push him inside without going in himself. If he went inside, he was done for. A man only had so much strength and dignity. James was quickly running out of both. Steve didn’t go in, though and instead wound one hand around James’s waist and carded the other through James’s hair.

“Kiss me again.” Steve mumbled. His breath was hot against James’s neck.

“Oh my God.” It was as close as James had come to sincerely praying in years. His knees buckled slightly.

Steve was pulling him in to the room and James didn’t even notice until the door clicked shut behind him. Oh, no. No. No no. That couldn’t happen. This couldn’t happen. James swallowed, ignoring the small line of tiny kisses Steve was leaving along his jawline. He needed to get away. Immediately. James tried to push away with sudden desperate movements like a drowning man trying to get to the shore. It failed. Steve was laughing like it was a game and suddenly they were toppling over on to Steve’s gigantic bed and James was on top of Steve, pinning him to the mattress.

He felt like the worst kind of asshole, but when he tried to move, Steve made a noise that was flat out indecent and James froze. All of his brain power was officially zapped.

“Feels good.” Steve mumbled. His hips moved against James where he was straddling Steve.

James bit back a moan and cursed every deity he could think of in alphabetical order. “Stop.”

“Don’t wanna.” Steve repeated. His hands were under James’s shirt and trying to peel it off.

“Jesus.” Every time James tried to move off of him, Steve arms held him in place.

“Steve, we can’t do this.” James insisted. He managed to disentangle one arm by sacrificing his top.

The other one was still moving.

“I want you to stop this, dammit.” James swore. He finally got both hands. “Keep your hands off me.”

Steve giggled and used James’s hands being full as an excuse to trail wet kisses over exposed skin.

If there was a God, it hated him. Explicitly and specifically.

Steve’s hips bucked and James practically lost his battle right then and there. Steve’s mouth nipped and nibbled and finally came back to James’s mouth. James kissed him. It was deep and hard and, maybe, just a little bit mean. It was definitely desperate. When it was done and he pulled back, Steve was looking up at him with this dazed, utterly blissed out grin.

“I ought to strangle you.” James told him.

“You love me.” Steve told him arrogantly. James laughed. Steve shifted. “Kiss me again. And maybe…”

He trailed off, but James knew what he meant. His whole body ached with the want of it, but he held back, finally managing to climb off of him. “You’re going to remember when we have sex, Steve. And you’re going to be stone cold sober and begging me for it.”

“Okay.” Steve murmured. His head turned to follow James as he walked out of the room. James could hear him already succumbing to sleep. He laughed and shut the door behind himself on the way out. At the very least, James did not envy the hangover Steve was going to have in the morning.

------------------------------

Steve was practically whistling over the skillet the next morning. His good mood made absolutely no sense. His husband was a fraud, potential arms dealer, and was also the victim of a kidnapping that he perpetrated. What if he had black market contacts that were going to get revenge on him? Was he invoking the wrath of some seedy underworld?

The idea of a seedy underbelly in his sleepy little town made Steve snort with laughter.

Like he’d already told himself: Good mood. No sense. He’d been giggling all morning.

He’d kissed Bucky. The man whose real identity he didn’t know. And he didn’t even regret it a little bit. Well, he regretted practically mauling him while drunk. He had a pretty strong memory of Bucky swearing at him pretty emphatically.

The memory made him smile. And finally cave in to his desire to start whistling.

“You’re making breakfast this morning?” Bucky asked him. Steve jumped because he hadn’t even heard the garage door open. And he hadn’t even unlocked it.

“Um.” He swallowed. Bucky looked worse for wear. “Yeah. The twins will be back from Sam’s soon.”

Bucky nodded a few times, then smirked at him. “Feeling a little rough? Want something greasy?”

“What?” He made a face. “Not really, no. I feel fine.”

The made Bucky pause. Realization dawned on Steve abruptly. He smiled at Bucky.

“I don’t really get hangovers.” Steve told him. Bucky’s smirk dropped.

“You don’t?” He asked. Steve shook his head.

“Not even in college. I guess I have a really fast metabolism. More than one person has hated me for it. Natasha, for all her proud Russian genes, especially.” Steve told him proudly. Mostly because he got the distinct impression that his lack of hangover was personally offending the rather haggard looking man across the kitchen from him. Steve smirked.

“You don’t have a hangover?” Bucky asked again, voice tinged with a whine. Steve laughed.

“Nope.” He told him.

“Not even a little headache?” Bucky pressed.

“Not even a little.” Steve confirmed, shrugging innocently.

“How about tired? You must want a nap pretty desperate.” Bucky continued, crossing his arms. In truth, Steve would probably not say no to another hour or two under the covers. Especially if it weren’t alone. But the desire to mess with Bucky was just too high.

“Wide awake.” Steve said with a shrug. “I was actually up before my alarm and got a work out in.”

He almost bought it. But then Steve caved and started laughing, making the whole ruse obvious. He laughed along with Steve for a moment until they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Steve went to get it, but it was right as the oven timer went off. Bucky waved him away.

“I’ll go see who’s bothering us. Might be Sam with the twins.” Bucky turned and Steve smiled after him before remember the burning food on the stove. He was so preoccupied with saving the biscuits from charring that he didn’t hear the conversation that took place at the door, not the footsteps back in to the kitchen. So he didn’t realize that anyone else had joined them until he spun and saw the sharply dressed woman sharing him down sternly. Instead of extending a hand to shake, she lifted a badge and ID for him to examine. Bucky stood behind her looking both terrified and guilty.

“My name is Monique Levine.” She told Steve, handing him the badge. “I’m here to discuss your children.”

And just like that, Steve’s good mood crumbled.

------------------------------

James practically watched Steve deflate. The woman hadn’t even gotten her name out before she’d shoved her badge in his face. For a moment he had thought she was there for him, but the whole ‘Child Services’ part of her title had thrown him. It had taken a minute or two longer than it should have to connect the dots to the twins.

“What did you need?” Steve asked her. He probably didn’t realize his tone. James cleared his throat.

“Your visit is just a little, um, unexpected.” James told her politically. “Is there something specific you came here to discuss today?”

Steve’s posture didn’t relax at all.

“I was passed your case from May Parker when it was escalated.” The agent said simply.

“So you’re just checking in?” James suggested at the same time that Steve let out a defensive snap.

“Escalated?”

The woman had the good sense to look surprised.

“Yes.” She nodded twice, uneasy. “Were you not notified? A letter should have arrived from our office.”

Steve shook his head silently, so James stepped in. “No, we didn’t get a letter. Why was it escalated?”

“You, I’m afraid. A report came in to our office about an unreported change in the living situation at this location.” She told him. She pulled out a file from her bag and dropped it open, reading from the letter at the top of the file. “As it was not the first such incident on this case file- the first being a change in employment status, the second being the removal of an in-home support system- it was flagged for further review. There was a previous home visit regarding the need for increased supervision for this case. I was hoping to speak to the children. Are they still in bed?”

Her pen was hovering over the page. Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re not here.”

“They’re not?” The agent frowned.

“We, um, let them have a sleepover last night.” Steve told her, clearing his throat. He was shifting uncomfortably, moving from one foot to the other. “There wasn’t any notice for your visit and we like them to have fun on weekends. They are visiting with their Uncle Sam.”

Her frown deepened. “They stay out of the house every weekend?”

“No.” Steve said quickly. “No, no. It was just a special treat for this weekend.”

It didn’t improve the look on her face at all. “So, you don’t let them visit with family except on special occasions?”

“What? No.” Steve looked like the was going to be sick. James had just been standing to the side, trying to stay out of everyone’s way, but Steve needed his support. He stepped in and put a hand on his shoulder. Steve immediately wrapped an arm around James tightly. He sighed a breath in to James’ shoulder. That was when James knew what was going to solve this immediately.

He turned back to the agent, slowly and subtly pulling the rings from both of their fingers. He felt Steve stiffen in his arms but kept turning. From the look on Agent Levine’s face, she hadn’t noticed anything amiss. He slipped both rings in to the pocket of his jeans. She was still frowning at them.

“I’m going to be honest, gentlemen, these are allegations that CPS takes very seriously. If this isn’t the right home for Wanda and Pietro, if this isn’t a stable environment, we’ll need to evaluate what’s in the children’s best interest.”

“Is there a problem with me staying here?” He asked her. “It’s only a temporary set up.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Temporary? I was led to believe this was a permanent change.”

“No, ma’am.” James shook his head. “Steve is helping me out, and I’m helping him transition since his last roommate moved out.”

She made a note in her pad.

“And I guess you are also not underemployed at a local pizzeria?” She asked him. James shook his head.

“I’m Special Agent James Barnes with Hydra. I was in town on an operation that ended abruptly. I am working part-time to stay busy while waiting for my next assignment. It is not my main source of income.” He paused, levelling her with a look. “Though I don’t see how my temporary situation impacts your evaluation of my friend’s ability to raise his children.”

She cleared her throat. Steve was stiff beside him, James could tell without even turning to look at him.

“Clearly, some of my information isn’t accurate.” She admitted. James frowned.

“Clearly.” He drawled.

“I’ll have to check your background, if you’re going to be here any longer than another two weeks.”

“Have at it.” He snapped. “Ask for Alexander Pierce, he’ll tell you what you need to know.”

There was a sharp cough from behind him. “He won’t be.”

Steve’s voice was sharp. James tensed at the sound but didn’t let himself flinch. Agent Levine cleared her throat again and looked away from them both awkwardly. She spun her file towards them both and pointed to the signature line at the bottom of the page.

“It’s funny you should mention Alexander Pierce.” She told James, looking up at him in confusion.

James glared down at the page. That was Pierce’s signature at the bottom of the page.

Certifying information that everyone in the room knew was false.

Well, at least James knew was false. And he could prove it to them all. He disappeared out in to the garage and yanked the box off of the shelf and tore through it to find his bag. His badge was in there. He’d be able to prove that he was who he said he was.

The bag was gone. It had just been there the night before.

His entire life had been in that garage. The second and third boxes were empty as well.

He moved to the spare tire- there he’d kept the last of his materials.

The tire was also empty. James went as far as to roll it out of the corner to the main area of the garage to check behind it. There was nothing. All of his things had been taken out of the garage. James spun around and noticed that even the painting of his face that Steve had half-finished was gone.

Someone had literally come in to the garage while he was sleeping and cleared it out.

Which meant that someone didn’t just want him dead. They wanted him alive but suffering.

Or alive to blame for something.

To be honest, James wasn’t a huge fan of either of those options.

------------------------------

James knew. James knew the truth and he’d said nothing.

Steve could probably have been bowled over with a feather. His hand felt empty. He squeezed it into a fist to try to counteract the way he could still feel Bucky- James- pull the ring from his finger. And he couldn’t say anything about it because Monica Levine was staring at him with growing suspicion. She was still pointing at the report and the signature on the bottom of the page.

Alexander Pierce, whoever he was, was either screwing James over for some reason or he was revealing a much larger delusion. Steve had met James Hubbard, rich jackass, which had become James Hubbard, international criminal and arms dealer, and was now (supposedly) James Barnes, government agent?

And it was Alexander Pierce who would be able to tell him one way or the other.

James slammed back into the kitchen so forcefully that he made the other two of them jump. He swallowed and Steve noticed he looked slightly panicked. He turned to Steve.

“You emptied out the garage?” He said, his voice mildly accusatory. Steve was confused.

“No?” He shook his head.

“You..” He dropped his voice and turned away from the agent. “You didn’t move your painting?”

Steve made a face and shook his head again. “No.”

Monica Levine sighed and snapped her shoulder close. “If the children aren’t going to be home soon, I’ll be in touch to schedule an official visit. An official report needs to be filed within the next thirty days with my recommendation on this case.”

Her look told Steve exactly what her recommendation was going to be.

They didn’t say anything else until the door snapped shut behind her. And then it was suddenly a flood of words all at once. Steve had immediately gone on the offensive. James had known who he was. That he wasn’t Steve’s husband. That Steve had tricked him. And he had stayed anyway? For reasons that Steve didn’t fully understand.  James was shouting right back at him but Steve couldn’t even listen to it. He was seeing red.

At least, until a hand went over his mouth.

“You’re mad. I get it.” James told him, face grim. “Hate me later. We’ve got a bigger problem.”

Steve waited for a minute and then nodded. James removed his hand.

“The twins aren’t home. It’s been an hour.” James told him simply. He waited as Steve connected the dots, then continued. “Have you heard from Sam?”

Steve’s stomach dropped into the second or third level of hell. “Do you think they’re in danger?”

“Maybe.” James admitted.

“Because of you?” Steve asked. James seemed to realize the look on his face was dangerous and winced.

“Maybe.” He repeated. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Steve had literally kidnapped him. He knew he was not on high ground here. But he glared anyway.

“Yeah.” He admitted. “Me too.”

James stopped moving around the kitchen and took Steve’s shoulders in his hands. It was reassuring, though Steve hated that it was. “We’ll figure it out, right? Together.”

------------------------------

Steve wouldn’t even look at him. James had to focus, especially if the twins were in danger. But the way Steve had stared at him, betrayed and furious, before shoving James’s hands off of him was going to stick with him. It was a little bit haunting. And James didn’t want to start a game of recriminations but it wasn’t like he had asked to be brought in to Steve’s house. Steve walked over to the couch and sat down to put his head in his hands.

“I’m a horrible person.” Steve whispered. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

James went to put a hand on his shoulder but drew back, not wanting Steve to jerk away from him.

“They might be fine.” James point out. “Have you tried calling Sam?”

Steve shot up and started looking around frantically for his phone. It was on the table right in front of him. James just handed it to him without saying anything else. Steve was trying to get the phone to open but couldn’t get his fingers to type the code in. He kept drawing the pattern wrong.

“Give me the phone.” James told him, reaching for it sharply. Steve jerked away.

“I can’t trust you. Clearly.” Steve snapped at him. James wanted to recoil, but didn’t. He didn’t.

“Steve. You can.” James told him, reaching up to force Steve to look at him. “You can. I promise.”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut. James stepped closer to reassure him and Steve let him do it. James gave him a minute before he stepped back and firmly took the phone from him.

“Let me give Sam a call, okay?” James told him. Steve just nodded.

But before James had even unlocked the phone, the door swung open and the whole herd came stomping in. Sam followed both twins in to the house, laughing and shouting loudly about some game the twins wanted to play. Sam had been the one laughing. Steve practically melted against James’ side when he saw them, but quickly stepped over to the twins and hugged them tightly. Which, given they had no idea what horrors both James and Steve had just been imagining, the twins were worried about.

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asked him. Pietro flinched away and stepped behind her.

“We’re not going away, are we?” Pietro asked. Steve visibly winced.

Given the past few hours, James held back. He didn’t want to intrude any further than he already had. That being said, he was struggling to not show his own barely contained relief. Steve assured them nothing of the sort was happening and sent the twins to play in basement. Sam was staring at them both as if they’d lost their damn minds.

“CPS visited this morning.” James explained blandly. He wasn’t sure what Steve wanted Sam to know.

“Oh, and he’s some sort of government agent. I kidnapped James Bond.” Steve cut in. Sam spun around to face James as if Steve had just told him that he was guilty of high treason. He was halfway through a snarl when Steve held up a hand. “We’re not playing that game right now. Bigger fish.”

Sam just glared at him before turning to raise an eyebrow at Steve. “Who’s getting fried?”

Steve said nothing, but waited for James to explain for himself.

“My old bosses, I think.” James said finally. “But I don’t know why or what their plan is. There’s something wrong, though, and I’m at the center of it.”

Sam didn’t seem convinced. “You’re at the center, but you don’t have any details?”

“I think I’m the patsy.” James said shortly.

“A patsy for what?” Sam asked him. James just shrugged.

“I have no idea. None of it makes a lot of sense.” He said finally. “I was trying to lay low when I got brought here. And I thought I was safe when I did it, or I never would have stayed. Once I realized it wasn’t, I was afraid leaving wouldn’t guarantee nobody would bother Steve and the twins.”

Sam just rolled his eyes. “So you’re claiming you stayed to protect them?”

“Yes.” James nodded firmly.

Sam clearly didn’t believe him, but Steve reached over and put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but James chose to believe that it was meant to be gratitude. For a moment they all just stood there listening to the twins play below them. Finally, Sam sighed.

“So, what are we doing next?” Sam asked.

The answer was, first, to get the twins sorted for the afternoon. Steve handled that and left the rest of the adults to discuss James’ situation. In his own words, he was an artist and not a soldier like the rest of them. Natasha and Clint apparently met in the service, which James hadn’t known, and Sam was currently serving, which James had known.

The second part was to call in what Natasha had called “The Bid Dogs”, which were still on their way. They were waiting for the others to show up and standing around the living room pretending it wasn’t insanely awkward. Sam and Clint had stepped out to Clint’s car to look at something in the engine (a cover for bitching about James, he was sure) while Natasha and James pretending to make small talk over an increasingly worrying amount of coffee. But they quickly ran out of topics that didn’t lead somewhere dangerous. Finally, Natasha set her cup down on the counter loudly and sighed.

“I’m just going to point that you’re an idiot.” Natasha told James, shaking her head.

“I didn’t think it would be smart to tell anyone.” James admitted to her. She shook her head and looked away. He raised an eyebrow at her.  “You could’ve told me that you knew I’d been kidnapped.”

She snorted. “I was directly involved in the kidnapping. So that’s unlikely.”

“I was expecting a week or two for my team to extract me.” James explained. “Obviously, I misjudged.”

The fact was, he obviously had. He’d been with Hydra for what felt like decades. And he never saw this coming. He trusted these men, even if he hadn’t always liked them. It wasn’t a huge compliment to his abilities or judgement that he hadn’t seen it coming. He’d thought the threat was Dottie and that she was hired by Abramovich. And maybe she had, been but clearly there had been more going on that he had just completely missed from the start.

“Hey.” Natasha nudged him. “You’re not a horrible judge of character.”

James snorted. “Really?”

“You decided to trust Steve and me.” She told him, as if that settled it. James laughed.

“I wasn’t really given a choice after you lot checked me out of the hospital.” James pointed out.

He glanced towards the basement door, where Steve had disappeared to play with the twins, and couldn’t help but frown slightly.  Steve trusted him, at least a little bit, but he had avoided saying anything directly to James since the others had showed up. And right now, James needed to be coming up with a plan and all he could think was that Steve hated him and that it hurt more than it should.

“They stole a painting of me that Steve did.” James told Natasha suddenly. She turned towards him.

“What?”

“Steve had started a portrait of me.” James explained.

“Painted you? Full on Titanic style?” She waggled her eyebrows and laughed. James wanted to laugh with, her but only managed a weak smile.

“They stole the painting.” James repeated to her.

“You think that’s significant?” She asked him, clearly confused. James shrugged.

“I think it makes me mad.” He allowed. Natasha just gave him a considering look, but said nothing else.

“I have a feeling they’re going to regret doing that.” Natasha told him finally. James wanted to agree, but it would have been even cheesier than he was already being. And luckily, Clint and Sam walked back in with a few others. The Big Dogs, James assumed. It was time to get to work.

------------------------------

Wanda cheering for “Daddy” had been the only warning Steve got that James was coming downstairs. They’d been playing a game Natasha had given them called “Pretty Pretty Princess” so Steve was sitting there with one earring and a necklace on. Wanda was winning, already having both earrings and her crown. Which she was quick to brag about to James. Steve said nothing to him and let him chatter absently with the twins for a few minutes.

“They sent me to come get you.” James told him. “Coulson’s here.”

Steve stood quickly. “He’s with SHIELD.”

James just nodded.

“You knew they were calling in SHIELD?” Steve asked him. James shook his head.

“At this point, I wouldn’t ever assume I know what’s going on at any given moment.” He sighed.

“Are you really going to go after them?” Steve asked. He stood from the floor and stepped closer.

“I don’t think I have a choice.” James admitted with a shrug. He was studying Steve’s face in a way that made Steve a little uneasy. “But I think it will be okay. I’m not going in alone.”

Steve nodded a few times. “That’s good at least.”

It was idiotic, in Steve’s opinion. He wanted to shout at James that he owed these people nothing. He should just cut and run. There was a high chance that a trap was being set for him that was going to end up being way more dangerous than James was prepared for. He was gambling his life. And for what? For Steve and the twins? Steve wished that he was a good enough man not to let him make that choice.

James was still standing there staring at him. He cleared his throat.

“I think they’re waiting for you upstairs.” James told him. “I’m going to be down here for a minute.”

Steve was surprised. “They don’t think you need to be up there?”

“I, uh, think they want to talk to you about me before they agree to do anything.” James admitted.

“Oh.”

“You know.” James laughed. “I knew you were painting the SHIELD building. But I didn’t realize it was because you knew actual SHIELD agents.”

Steve smiled at him and laughed too. “Not a good thing?”

“I never would have trusted you.” James admitted with a laugh.

“But you trust them now?” Steve pressed. James paused before responding. Steve watched a whole journey go across his face before he finally shrugged.

“I trust you.” James told him. Steve felt the words like a pressure in his chest. It strangled a little bit.

He coughed to try and relieve the pressure but it didn’t let up. He felt heat rising his cheeks and knew he had to make a run for it. He gestured vaguely towards the stairs and started moving that way, mumbling something incoherent about needing to get upstairs to see them.

“Hey, Steve?” James called after him. He stopped, wincing and turned to see James smirking at him.

“Yeah?” He asked.

James walked up and stopped in front him, pausing only a moment, before reaching up. His finger barely grazed Steve’s cheek before gently moving to Steve’s ear, where he snagged the colorful plastic clip-on earring from where it dangled there and pulled it off.

“I don’t think you want to go up there with only one earing on.” James teased. Steve laughed.

“No.” He admitted. He also removed the necklace.

They were left too close to each other, just standing there. It wasn’t until Wanda screamed something angry at Pietro from the corner that James turned and waved him away, smiling over at Steve one last time before he disappeared up the stairs.

Steve jumped up the steps two at time, knowing that the others were waiting for him. He got to the front and stepped out, making sure the door shut firmly behind him. If he paused there for a moment to get his smile under control, the others absolutely did not need to know.

Except they were all right to the side of the door, staring at him.

“I rest my case.” Natasha was saying gesturing at Steve. “He’s practically swooning against the door.”

Sam was rolling his eyes. “Okay, so the guy is smooth.”

“Sure, that’s what it is.” Natasha scoffed, knocking his shoulder.

“You’re such a romantic, Nat.” Clint told his wife, smiling over at her. She glared at him for a second.

“Maybe.” She admitted. “Tell anyone and we’re getting a divorce.”

Coulson was the only one who acknowledged Steve standing there. “Hey, Steve. Doing alright?”

“Yeah.” Steve lied, nodding as casually as he could while his cheeks blared with a blush.

“I don’t think the debate is necessary. Clearly, he’s sticking around and Steve’s in deep.” Clint told them all, sipping the rest of the coffee straight from the pot. “So, we’re all in, yeah? I’ll go get 007 from downstairs and let you guys make the plan.”

Natasha nodded and elbowed Sam when he started to protest. “All in.”

“Thanks, guys.” Steve told them. He wasn’t even in the mood to argue.

James was going to be risking his life for them. This was the least that he could do. He and his friends would do everything they could to make sure that he was safe. Steve wanted Clint to have a say as well, he was also good at what he did, but Steve really appreciated being able to see the plan start to take place. It would help him panic less later.

And when James paused over one map of a suspected Hydra location to smile at Steve, making Steve’s entire insides turn in to a herd of butterflies, he had to admit that having him there helped as well.

------------------------------

James had accidentally distracted himself by smiling at Steve, and the two of them hadn’t heard the phone when it started ringing. It took Natasha literally waving a hand in front of James’ face to interrupt Steve’s line of vision to get his attention.

“Steve, are you going to get that phone?” Natasha asked him. Steve turned towards in confused.

“That’s not my phone.” Steve told her. “We don’t have a house phone.”

James tried not to read too much into the liberal use of the word ‘We’ in that sentence, but knew that he was failing. Steve held his cell phone and, one by one, the others did too. All except James, since he didn’t have one. But the ringing was still going.

“This twins don’t have a ringing toy, do they?” Sam asked. “I don’t remember one.”

James shook his head. “Not that would be up here.”

He ignored the way Sam looked to Steve and waited for him to nod before believing him. Maybe he rolled his eyes a little bit. But he was only human.

“Let’s see if we can find it.” Natasha suggested. But as soon as he stood up, James realized.

“It’s my sat phone.” James said quickly. When the others looked at him in surprise, he shrugged.

“Keeping that one to yourself too?” Sam asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“It was in my bag. I’d thought that they took it as well.” James admitted. “I don’t know where it is.”

The ringing was coming from the front closet. They’d been in the house. So much further than the garage. It felt like such a deeper violation, somehow, despite it being further from his bed. The fact that the twins could have been in the house made James feel sick in his stomach.

Natasha yanked the phone off of the shelf. The number wasn’t one of the preprogrammed ones. Natasha tossed him the phone and waited for him to answer. James pressed the button to connect the call reluctantly, but as confidently as he could manage.

“Hello?”

“Barnes?” A voice crackled unevenly over the line. Secured, no doubt. Rumlow. James snarled.

“Yeah.” He agreed. “What’s your play, Rumlow?”

Rumlow laughed. “423 South Market Street. 2 hours.”

The call disconnected with a click and then the line went dead.

He turned back to the others and handed it over to them. He pinched the bridge of his nose and stepped past them to the vase where he’d stashed his weapon the night before. Shockingly, maybe because nobody would have thought to look for it there, the gun hadn’t moved. Steve’s outraged gasp was hard to miss when he pulled it out.

“You’ve had a gun in this house with my kids?” Steve demanded. James scratched the back of his neck.

“Technically, I only brought it in last night.” James explained. “After my run. I thought someone had come in. I hadn’t expected the, um, state you were in. So, yes, but only this morning?”

The explanation didn’t seem to appease him at all. Steve was still frowning.

“You’re not thinking of going, are you?” Steve asked him.

“Worried?” James teased him. Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest, but his expression softened.

“Of course, I am.” Steve told him. It was genuine enough that James turned away quickly.

“At least now we know where they’re expecting us.” James said, firmly changing the subject. “Coulson, you have a plan for that address?”

The agent just nodded once and started clicking through on his tablet, giving them all something else to focus on. And this time, James was careful not to make eyes at his husband. He definitely had to focus on the situation at hand and not the fact that, apparently, Steve Rogers was actually worried about him.

------------------------------

Steve lasted about fifteen minutes in the basement after all of the others left. He kept running through it in his mind and the panic curled through his stomach that the Wild Krats just did not do anything to help soothe. Wanda and Pietro were worn out from their exciting morning and the ten minutes James let them have on the trampoline before they left.

“Hey, guys.” Steve started softly. He paused the TV show to a chorus of complaints. “Want to paint?”

That managed to cheer them up.

“And then snack at two thirty?” Wanda told him. That was their schedule.

“And then snack at two-thirty.” Steve agreed with her. “But why don’t we grab our smocks and head out to the garage to paint?”

Painting with the twins was always an adventure. Sometimes they wanted to paint everything up to (and including) the floor and walls, but others they’d paint for fifteen minutes and then end up watching something on their iPad while sprawled on the garage floor.

Steve set them up with watercolor and papers on two tiny easels. He’d learned very quickly that acrylics with children were not just inadvisable but a downright horrible idea. So they were limited to water colors until they were old enough to drive.

He enjoyed working next to them. Steve started sketching something on his new canvas. He didn’t mean to draw a new portrait to replace the one that had been stolen, but did anyway. It wasn’t exact. James was smiling a little more in this one. Closer to the smile he’d given Steve right before pulling off that colored plastic earing.

The twins were painting happily even after Steve realized that a full hour had gone by. His entire sketch was outlined roughly and he could see James’ face in the faint lines. It was almost three. They were almost at the meeting time. Steve suddenly felt queasy. He had to sit down on something that wasn’t an old wooden stool.

“You okay, Papa?” Pietro asked him, looking up from where he’d pulled his small chair directly up to the easel. “Is it snack time?”

Wanda nodded, looking at the little watch on her wrist. She frowned. “We’re late.”

And with that, they trudged inside. Steve shut off the light with one last look at the drawing of James and went inside to make his kids a snack. It felt normal and steadied his hands. It was something to take his mind off the dread in his stomach.

Only two or three more hours to go, probably.

------------------------------

James walked in to the main open space. There was a table with a duffel bag on it next to a black brick of a cell phone that was straight out of some time in the late 1990’s. James looked behind him. He hadn’t wanted to risk a wire or having someone too close behind him. But now he had no way to check his movements without betraying his team’s positions.

He wasn’t willing to do that. So, instead, he took the risk himself. He reached over and unzipped the bag slowly in case the zipper was attached to a trigger of some kind. Inside was a stack of weapons. James recognized them as a model Hydra had been pretending to want to sell to Abramovich to lure him in. But they’d never actually acquired the weapons. There was no need. Especially not the easy two dozen that were in the duffel bag.

The phone next to him started ringing.

“Hello?” He answered cautiously.

“You’re really are this stupid, huh?” Rumlow answered him, laughing as he did it. James swore internally, but just waited for Rumlow to keep talking. Because it was Rumlow, James didn’t have to wait long. “I’m sorry, you know that it had to come to this.”

James scoffed. “No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” Rumlow laughed.

“What’s your play, Rumlow?” James asked. Because, clearly, he wasn’t going to get there on his own.

“Oh, you’re not in play.” Rumlow told him with a scoff. James looked around and back down at the bag. “And I’m not so stupid as to tell you anything. I just needed a call between these two numbers when the police arrive.”

James swallowed. “And who’s phone is it?”

The line clicked dead without a response. James swore, loudly and repeatedly. This wasn’t even where Rumlow was. A door slammed open behind him and James yanked one of the guns out of the bag and turned back towards the opening. There was a high, tinkling laughter and the clinking of heels against the concrete of the floor.

“How uncivilized.” Dottie clicked her tongue at him. The men at her side held their own weapons.

“Well, I was told to come alone.” He told her with a shrug.

“And you listened?” She laughed again and shook her head.

It didn’t match. She looked like she was yanked straight from the 1940s with curled blonde hair, red lips, and a vintage dress. James was in Kevlar and hadn’t shaved in two days. One of them had clearly taken the wrong approached to this meeting.

“I’m glad you’re prompt.” Dottie told him. “I heard that the shipment had gone through to Ivan and was absolutely pickled at the thought. After all, your compatriots had promised to divert the products to me instead. For a very high premium for the preference.”

James just nodded.

“Is this the sample?”

He nodded again.

“Check it.” She demanded of one of her goons. One of them lowered his weapon and stepped forward to the duffel, pulling it further open. He took one of the guns examined it for a moment, and then replaced it. His gun immediately went back up.

“Firing pins have been removed.” He reported. Dottie sighed, shaking her head in disappointment.

“James. James, James.” She extended a hand to one to the side. One of the goons put a gleaming pistol into her hand. She turned it over in her hands before lifting it to point at him in a move that was almost graceful. Her smile was weirdly delighted. “It appears your employers have sent you here as a sacrificial lamb to buy themselves time to complete the deal with Ivan.”

James wasn’t surprised. He did wince and lower his weapon, which everyone in the room now knew was a dud. It wasn’t going to hurt any of them.

“You didn’t know?” She asked him. James shook his head.

“I didn’t.” James confirmed. Dottie didn’t lower the gun, but pulled back the sleeve to look at her watch.

“Unfortunately, I haven’t the time to explain.” Dottie cocked the pistol and shrugged. “Apologies.”

James swore in his head repeatedly. “I know where the guns are. I know where the deal is going down.”

“I don’t think you do. Prove me wrong.” Dottie demanded.

“I tell you where it is and you kill me now.” James shook his head. He needed the leverage. He needed the time to come up with a viable answer for where it would be. Because, honestly, he had no clue.

“Or you just don’t know where it is.” Dottie told him.

“I do.” Bucky lied.

He was led from the building at gun point and forced into the passenger seat of a black sedan. Dottie didn’t point the gun at him outside, but had one of the goons press one into the small of his back the whole walk. There was nothing for James to do but let them start driving. Occasionally James would direct them to take a left or right. But it wasn’t until he saw the scaffold that he had an idea. Well, less of an idea and more of a realization.

He did know where the deal was taking place.

It would be easy enough to have them circle the block and park. Also easy to get them into the elevator and step far enough back that he wouldn’t be the first one off of the elevator when it opened. And he was right. Dottie and her goons stepped out, eager to arrive and make an entrance, and James just waited for it to happen. They left, he pressed the door close button.

Three levels down, he stepped out in to the operations center they’d set up the week before. Still there. And twenty pairs of eyes swung towards him in surprise. James did the only thing he could think of and smiled sheepishly, waving slowly.

“Did I get the directions wrong?” James asked. He held up his hands to show he was unarmed.

“Barnes?” Rumlow growled.

“I should mention that you have one very angry blonde on your roof.” James told them casually.

“You do have a thing for blondes.” Rumlow snarled. One of the men opposite the table from Rumlow stood and aimed his weapon at James. “We need him alive if you want to walk free after all this. He’s our ticket.”

“He’s your ticket.” The man snarled.

“And I’m yours.” Rumlow snapped at him. James just watched him work.

He’d realized that the party had only ever been the cover. Abramovich was never going to be coming up to the terrace. He was always going to be on the lower level, with the plan being to keep James above the action. But then the scaffold had happened. And James had needed to come down and sort it out. It must have really thrown them when he’d come down. This had all been a guess until he saw two men on the right of whom he assumed was actually Ivan Abramovich. He’d seen them before. Only they’d been in Hydra uniforms. Hiding in plain sight.

“Let’s get to the business part of the evening.” James told them all. He held up the badge.

“What’s that supposed to be?” Rumlow asked him. “You think your Hydra badge does any good here?”

James scoffed. “This one’s not mine actually. But my friend at SHIELD said it was pretty cool.”

“Shit. SHIELD?” Abramovich shot up and his men did the same. Rumlow looked panicked.

“Yeah, SHIELD.” James nodded. “And I have to admit and think it’s pretty cool. This button right here? It tells all the agents downstairs our exact position. They’ll be here in minutes.”

Abramovich moved so quickly, James didn’t honestly know how to react. They made a grab for the gun crates and the money bags, trying to rip Rumlow off. Then the bullets started flying. James was left ducking for cover. He heard people rushing past him, but nobody was aiming for him. At least not yet. He gave it a couple minutes before they reprioritized.

Rumlow shot Abramovich in the head. James saw him fall and had to flinch away from to avoid being hit by the falling body. Then there was a blow to the side of James’ head. Rumlow was coming for him now. James rolled out of the way.

“Stop!” James demanded. Rumlow wouldn’t.

“What have you done?” Rumlow roared.

“Not expecting Pierce to bail you out, are you?” James asked. He had to laugh. “I’ll admit he seemed pretty quick to cut and run when I went down. But maybe that was just me.”

“You always were an annoying piece of shit.” Rumlow snarled. He raised his gun.

“Rumlow, stop!” James shouted again. Rumlow didn’t lower his gun and didn’t stop firing.

“You ruined everything.” Rumlow accused. “You couldn’t just let it lie. You had to bring up Abramovich to Dottie. You had to try and be the good guy. Wouldn’t stop following the letter of the law.”

James managed to squeeze a shot off towards him. “That was literally our job.”

“No, our job is to do the right thing. The system is broken. And some times that means the right thing is dismantling the system and building a new one. A stronger one.” Rumlow ran out of ammo and launched himself forward towards James.

He got two steps forward before he clattering to the ground. An arrow was lodged in his shoulder.

“What?” James couldn’t even process it.

“Is he down?” A voice called.

James meant to respond, he did, but couldn’t. He was staring at Rumlow as he clenched his wound, clearly grinding his teeth to stop from screaming. Suddenly everyone was at his side. Natasha and Clint, their friends with SHIELD, Sam.

When Natasha got close enough, she put a tentative hand on James’ shoulder.

“Did we just win?” Clint asked them, sidling into the room with a fucking crossbow slung over his shoulder. “It looked like I won it for us, but I’m just going to ask the rest of you.”

Coulson huffed. “Bragging isn’t attractive to anyone.”

“Speak for yourself.” Natasha told him. She knocked her hip against Clint’s and made him laugh.

Rumlow was out cold. James toed him with his boot and heard him groan, so he was at least mildly satisfied that he wasn’t dead. Whether or not that was a good thing, he didn’t know. Hydra wasn’t going to survive whatever came next. Pierce was probably in the wind. Rumlow was in their custody. The guns hadn’t made it to Abramovich.

The SHIELD agents behind Coulson rushed forward. They worked quickly to secure all of the weapons that Hydra had been trying to use him as a scapegoat for. James swallowed and looked away back towards Coulson.

“You’ll have enough to shut the whole thing down?” He asked. Coulson nodded.

“Easily.” Coulson nodded. “It’s going to be a little harder to clear your name.”

James nodded.

“But I know a really good lawyer.” He told James with a smile.

“I have a feeling I’m going to need one.” James admitted, looking around.

“There’s going to be a trial.” Coulson told him. “Not just for you but for the whole lot. All of Hydra.”

James looked to where a still unconscious Rumlow was loaded, entirely cuffed, on to a gurney by SHIELD agents in full Kevlar. James personally did not know, or care, if he was headed to the hospital or the prison first. James glanced towards the side, shocked to see the blood red pool ooze from where Dottie had fallen, and felt his stomach curdle. He hadn’t realized she had come down. And he had led her here. Guilty of some crime or not, James knew he had to come to terms with that. But so would Hydra.

“I have to make them pay for what they’ve done.” James told Coulson sharply.

“We’ll do that.” Coulson promised him.

There was a slam from the back of the room that sounded like something hard and heavy hitting the ground. James didn’t have time to react before he turned and watched as one of the Hydra agents that hadn’t been captured came screaming into the room, squeezing the trigger of one of the confiscated guns.

The last thought that James remembered having before everything went bright, was that the muzzle of the gun was pointed directly at him.

------------------------------

When it was three hours past when Natasha had told Steve to expect them back, Steve got nervous. After four, he was practically vibrating while putting the twins to bed. At five hours late, Steve had to physically stop himself from blowing up their phones and demanding answers. The only thing that kept him from involving the police was knowing that SHIELD was already involved. And that James’ identity had a rather long rap sheet. He didn’t know what kind of consequences involving the police would really bring in for him. And he wasn’t willing to risk it.

When they piled into the house, they looked tired. They looked worn out. But they were also smiling. Steve tried to not let his concern show right away, instead pretending to have been engrossed in some show he couldn’t even name. He paused it and stood, reaching for the person closest to him.

“I’m so glad you guys are okay.” Steve told Natasha, hugging her tightly. But his eyes were already sliding over her shoulder to look for James. He wasn’t there. When he stepped back, Natasha saw the look on his face and knew what it meant immediately.

“He had to go with them.” She said quietly. The others were busy talking and laughing and didn’t hear.

“No.” Steve said it quietly, but knew that Natasha heard him by the way she winced and looked away.

“There’s going to be a trial. James wanted to make sure they paid for what they’d done.” Natasha shook her head. “They’ve got to clear his name as well. Coulson said something about a Senate Sub-Committee hearing about it. Officially making findings about Hydra.”

Steve’s stomach dropped. “They’re going after him as well?”

She just nodded. Steve rubbed his face.

“I thought that might. I didn’t want it too.” He honestly hated knowing that it would. “He’ll be okay?”

Natasha didn’t answer him. Steve didn’t want to think about it too hard.

“I’ll see him when he gets back.” Steve decided finally. Natasha winced again. Steve felt everything around him come to a screeching halt. He swallowed slowly. The realization dawned slowly enough that Steve felt it descend and curdle everything in his stomach. He felt vaguely ill.  “He’s not coming back at all, is he?”

Natasha shook her head.

“There wasn’t time.” She said quietly. Steve realized that everyone else was watching him.

“It’s for the best.” Steve said. He wanted to be stoic about it. After everything he’d done, James absolutely did not owe him a goodbye. James didn’t owe him anything.

“He did ask me to give you this.” She told him, pressing it in to his hands.

She pressed an envelope in to his hands and Steve looked down at it almost numbly.  “Thanks.”

“He didn’t want to write something cheesy.” She said, shifting uncomfortably. Steve didn’t want to open it with everyone there and she seemed to understand. She shrugged and smiled up at him. “I think he just wanted you to know that he didn’t hold this against you. He didn’t want to leave.”

The others all assured Steve that he and the twins would be fine. Sam and Riley silently waved at him and walked up the stairs towards Sam’s old room with overnight bags. Steve appreciated that they’d be staying with him for the night. But he didn’t want to talk to them. Instead he headed out to his garage.

The painting that was half finished taunted him from the easel. But his fingers itched to finish it, so he sat down and got back to work. And hours later, when he was stiff and sore from sitting on the wood stool for too long, he sat back and looked at the progress with something close to pride. And with it staring at him, he felt steady enough to open the note that James had left for him.

I know this much is true- In another life, I would have loved being your husband.

------------------------------

It was pathetic and he was a coward, James knew that. He hadn’t wanted to create more drama for Steve, that much was true. He’d wanted to give Steve space and closure and time to put all of this behind him. And, honestly, when he’d had the idea, it had sounded like a good one. Coulson, for all of his wisdom, hadn’t said a single word against it. Natasha hadn’t either, though she hadn’t seemed particularly pleased with him.

She had just scoffed and called him something rude in Russian that he pretended not to understand.

Point was, he’d been convinced that he was doing the right things. The way Steve Rogers would handle the situation. But in reality, he was hating himself over. A note. He’d left town with a note. He didn’t say goodbye face to face. He’d barely given the twins a hug and had jumped up the steps with a promise that he’d see them soon.

Which weighed on him a lot more than accounting for the actions of Hydra.

Though, James assumed the Senators sitting across the table from him would feel differently.

“Agent Barnes?” One of them motioned for James’ attention. He sat up straighter.

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that particular question.” James told them, making a point to speak directly in to the microphone. He heard his lawyer, Bernie, audibly slapped a hand against her head. She sighed and cleared her throat. On her other side, Phil stifled a laugh.

“The question was if you would be okay with breaking for the day.” She repeated for him.

“Which I think he answered for us.” Coulson nodded, looking at James over Bernie’s shoulder.

“I actually think we’ve gotten all that we need from Agent Barnes.” The Senator told them, nodding. He didn’t look impressed and had honestly looked pinched since the moment James had walked in to the room. And he must have something nice to say because he looked particularly awful. “You have an exemplary service record with the Army. And you have a long list of character references from former commanding officers. Tony Stark himself found my personal cell phone number and tried to vouch for your character until I got him to admit he didn’t actually know you personally, just of you.”

“Is there a point to this grandstanding, Senator?” Bernie snapped. James appreciated it.

“Just mentioning that the manner in which of the defendants side has moved about establishing the supposed character of Mr. Barnes casts doubt on the existence of his character in the first place.” The Senator snapped.

“It’s Agent, actually.” Bucky told him sharply. “And I’m not the one on trial here today.”

“Not today.” The senator agreed with a smug smirk.

“Or ever.” James snapped.

“One commission found you not liable. Other commissions may yet be allowed.” He told James smugly.

James only said nothing because of the hand Bernie put on his shoulder. “Senator Stern, the choice Tony Stark made to reach out is his own. And I’ll point out that, reputation from his 20’s aside, Mr. Stark is not just an upstanding citizen, but also a well-known philanthropist. Did you have an issue with his character?”

Stern huffed. “Just his personality.”

“Is his personality on trial?” Bernie snapped. There were titters around the whole room. One or two people were making murmurs of agreement. “And I can’t help but wonder, Senator, if your personal bias towards Mr. Stark should preclude you from dealings with SHIELD and Hydra. Given his father’s involvement with the founding of one and dismantling of the other.”

Stern gapped dramatically at the accusation. “Are you claiming that I have ties to Hydra? I have been thoroughly vetted and take my position as a Senator in this country to be very seriously.”

“I’m merely stating, on the record, that the focus of this hearing is not my client, but his former employer. One which, according to all official reports, framed him for any alleged crimes. We have proof that they attempted to implicate him in this most current crime, and compromise his identity.”

“I understand that-”

“Then we’re done. Not just for today, but for good.” Bernie told him, standing.

“Excuse me.” Stern started to protest, but Bernie held up a hand. She physically yanked James up.

“You’re excused.” Bernie quipped. “Unless criminal charges are going to be filed against my client, we’re going to consider this the end of the cooperation with this commission into the Hydra fiasco.”

Stern went absolutely red in the face. “Coulson, your people are okay with this?”

“Agent Barnes is one of my people now.” Phil told them simply. James preened slightly. Agent of SHIELD still felt weird to say. But he didn’t hate it. “And, frankly, I have to agree with Ms. Rosenthal’s assessment of this commission. I think we’re done here.”

James’ jaw was barely off of the floor when Bernie physically dragged him from the room. Coulson trailed after them both, but not by far. And he was the one to have the courage to actually turn and snap the doors shut behind them. James had to give him points for the sheer Drama of it. But when he turned towards them, his smile was demure and downright innocent.

“Do you have time for a cup of coffee?” He offered. “I’m sure you have a plane to catch.”

James cleared his throat. “I, uh, don’t actually.”

“I just assumed you would be heading back.” Coulson told him with a small frown. “You’ve got a spot on the task force to clean up. I remembered to tell you that, right?”

James laughed, turning slightly pink. “Yes, you told me that.”

Coulson raised an eyebrow.

“I just didn’t know when the commission was going to end their interviews.” James told him, shifting awkwardly. “But I’d love that coffee.”

“Can I offer you some free advice?” Coulson asked. But it was in the tone that told James that he couldn’t avoid the free advance if he actually wanted to. So, instead, all he did was nod dumbly and waited while Coulson pressed the button for the elevator. But even after he pressed the call button, he said nothing.

“Was that just a question, or did you actually have some advice?” James asked him.

“Yeah, I did.” Coulson nodded. And he timed it just as the door opened. “Don’t be an idiot.”

------------------------------

And not being an idiot had seemed like such a good idea twelve hours earlier. Before James ended up here, on Steve’s porch, facing him down while Steve had the audacity to laugh at his outrage.

“Abrasive?” James’s mouth dropped. How dare he say something like that. “Did you really just try to excuse kidnapping me with the fact that I was abrasive?”

Steve leveled him with a look. “Would you prefer me to list all the ways in which you were an ass?”

“Just admit you kidnapped me for my ass, Steve, and save us all time.” James huffed. His husband, thankfully, snorted laughing at him instead of being offended. There was a beat where James remembered why he hadn’t ever wanted to leave. “I’m sorry about what I dragged to your doorstep. If I had any idea…”

He trailed off. Steve just shrugged.

“Not committing a felony kidnapping in the first place might’ve helped.” Steve admitted.

“Maybe.” James nodded along with him. Steve gasped, offended, until he saw the way James was smiling at him, right on the brink of laughter. Steve finally crossed his arms and gave James a suspicious look. The way James looked up at him put butterflies in his stomach.

“Why are you here?” Steve asked. James reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring on a chain.

The second of the matched set.

“I’m not here to force you to marry me for real.” James assured him. The ring was still between them.

“I’ll try to contain my disappointment.” Steve drawled. James swatted at him, but fought back a laugh.

“I’m here to ask you to dinner.” James explained with a nod. Then, because he wanted to be clear, he continued. “A date. With me. Somewhere just the two of us.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked him. James grinned. “Why?”

“Because I actually really liked being married to you.” James explained. Since he still hadn’t taken the ring, James grabbed his hand and pressed it into his palm gently. “You can hold on to this for now. But I’m gong to want it back.”

“No pressure.” Steve didn’t look like he was swooning over the idea, but his expression had softened.

Steve was staring down at James as if he was nervous about this conversation. It wasn’t like Steve was the one making declarations about marriage and the future. The look on his face was almost queasy, like James was holding his hand over a flame. But when he looked up at James, he noticed something vulnerable in Steve’s face. James smiled.

“I could love you.” James forced out, because he was absolutely definitely going to go for broke.

Steve’s breath caught and he looked away. “I kidnapped you.”

“I let you.” James shrugged.

“I could love you, too.” Steve said quietly.

“It feels good to say it out loud.” James laughed and shifted awkwardly on his toes. Steve still was having trouble looking directly at him. James started to take a step back, but Steve’s arm shot out and snaked it’s way around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Was that all you came here to say?” Steve asked. James wasn’t sure what else he was looking for.

“Actually, I hear there’s a room for rent. Reasonable price? Great location? Room’s a little small but in a great neighborhood?” James glanced over Steve’s shoulder towards the garage door. “Any chance that’s still available?”

Steve followed James’s gaze and shrugged. “I dunno. Real estate’s hot in this town right now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Some big shot spy got caught hiding out and now all the crazies are in town for a big trial. Conspiracy nuts. Fox News. Neighborhoods gone to hell, really.” Steve explained, scratching his chin. But he glanced down at James and smirked. “It’s gonna be hard to find a room for yourself anymore. Not for a reasonable price anyway.”

“What’re you charging?” James asked him.

“All my rooms are full. You could probably check the paper?” Steve shrugged. James’s jaw dropped again until Steve took James’s face in his hands and kissed him. It was just once, and not particularly deep, but it was sincere. When they parted, James was smirking up at him. Steve kissed him once more just to stop whatever quip was fighting its way out.

“I do have one idea though.” Steve told him quietly. “But it’s not exactly a private room.”

James sucked in a breath, but smiled. “That so?”

“I’ve got an awful big bed. At least that’s what someone told me once.” Steve stepped back, fingers locking around James’s wrist to tug him inside. His voice was soft and he seemed suddenly hesitant. They paused before crossing the threshold. Steve seemed to hesitate.

“You okay?” James asked him. Steve sighed and pressed his forehead to James’.

“I want to be honest.” Steve told him.

“I think we both need to insist on that.” James agreed. “We’ve had enough dishonesty.”

Steve was nodding and clearly already not listening. He swallowed. “I already love you.”

It was James’s turn to look away, suddenly overtaken with awkwardness.

“I know it’s a lot. And it’s fast. And I haven’t really thought out a speech because I honestly didn’t think you were going to come back.” James’s head shot up and Steve was staring right at him. He looked scared. James moved so that his arms wrapped around Steve. They were standing in the front hall just holding each other. Steve continued talking, whispering the words in to James’s ear. “I love how good you are with Wanda and Pietro. I love the way you sing when you cook. Like a tone-deaf Elvis.”

“Hey.” James went to pull away indignantly, but Steve wouldn’t let him. James could feel the chuckle as it rumbled through his chest.

“I’m in love with you.” Steve repeated. “And I want you to know that before you agree to anything else.”

James just curled deeper in to his arms. “I was always going to come back.”

“But are you staying?” Steve asked him. He pulled back slightly to stare down at James.

“I’m not sure you’d be able to get rid of me if you wanted to.” James told him, laughing. “Though I’m going to need a job. Hopefully Natasha’s hiring.”

Steve laughed. “We’re going to figure it out. Together.”