I didn't proofread this one, so sorry if there are any mistakes. Thank you for supporting this story, I like getting comments and votes from you guys :)

3,764 words 

|the mcu world|

Chris' POV

I wander around Bucky's room while he showers, mind a little frazzled after watching the magic box vanish into thin air right in the palm of my hand. I don't look through his things like he gave me permission to do, even if every fiber of my being desperately wants to give in to that curious itch inside me.

His room smells of vanilla and expensive wood, a combination I never knew would make me feel so at home. Unlike in Steve's room, I don't feel out of place in here, like I know I no doubtably should. I've entered Bucky's secure little bubble that he goes to when he needs an escape from the hectic life everyone in this building lives, I can feel that from just scanning the room. He's made this room very personal, alive with the humanity that still thrives inside him, even after everything he's endured over the years under Hydra's thumb.

He has an old styled wooden desk hidden away in the darkest corner of the room, a laptop opened on top, the screen black. I walk over, deciding to let myself snoop, just a little. I turn the little desk light on that's resting to the left of the laptop, giving myself enough light to properly see everything. He has a pile of papers laying neatly on top of the keyboard. Research for something it appears, but for what? I know I shouldn't look, but I find myself grabbing the top paper and reading over it. There's a lot written that I don't understand, can't understand, because it's written in Russian. His handwriting is lovely though.

I flick through page after page, them all written in the language I can't read, no matter how hard I squint my eyes and hope it'll magically change to English. These could be important, information I need to locate the stones. I don't exactly have a ton of time to do this. A year. That's how much time I have to find all six infinity stones and safely send them to Steve, who still has no idea what's going on. This is solely in my hands, the fate of everything. It'd be nice if I could involve the Avengers, but I can't. They can't find out I'm not Steve, and I know damn well if I got them involved I'd end up slipping up and spilling the beans. Especially to Bucky. I'm surprised I haven't royally fucked this up yet.

I huff in defeat, fixing the papers and placing them back down. I mess with the laptop instead, hitting the power button. The screen lights up, the Apple logo appearing as it switches on. I wait, rather impatiently, until the lock screen appears. It's a default wallpaper; Bucky hasn't changed it. I was hoping it'd be something cute. Sebastian would have something cute set as his. But of course, Bucky isn't Sebastian. I can't try to turn him into him.

A password, I need a password to get in. Fuck. What would Bucky make his password? Something about Steve? No, that'd be too obvious, right? Or maybe that's the point. What year was Steve born? Damnit, I don't even know.

I try a few random ones, Steve's name, Steve's birthday, and even 'Stucky' just because, but nothing works. Maybe it has nothing to do with Steve at all.

I'd make a terrible hacker.

I don't want to lock it up or anything, so I give up, switching the laptop off. I turn the light off too, walking defeatedly over to the bed and plopping down on the edge. The buzz the alcohol gave me is beginning to wear off, thankfully, and now I just feel dazed. I'm tired, I think. It's hard to tell with the serum what exactly I'm feeling, nothing feels the way it's meant to. I don't get hungry slowly, I just suddenly become ravenous. When I get sad, it's not just a mild sadness, it's devastation. Everything is heightened. It's overwhelming.

But when it comes to exhaustion it's different. My mind is telling me it needs rest, but my body isn't agreeing. Fuck this. How does Steve deal with this on the daily? How does Bucky?

I hear an odd sound, like something shaking. My eyes shoot up from the floor, looking around for the source. The box is back, sitting on the edge of the dresser. I jump up, quickly grabbing it. I retake my spot on the bed, opening the box carefully, still having a difficult time controlling my super strength. There's a piece of paper inside, different from the one I put in. I got a response, holy shit.

I glance at the door, making sure Bucky isn't coming before I pull the paper out, closing and putting the box away just to be safe, before unfolding the paper. It's longer than the one I sent, by quite a bit. I guess Steve has a lot to say.

Hey Chris, Steve Rogers Here.
Who exactly switched us? And why wasn't I informed about it, but you were? You're not from a place where these things happen, so I can't quite figure out how this occurred. Let me know, please. Everything is okay on my end, I met with your mother today actually. We had lunch. She doesn't suspect anything, I succeeded at being you. It's hard though, I'll give you that. You know so much about me and I know so little about you, hardly seems fair. Sebastian is helping me out, he's a lifesaver. He knows who I am, is even crazy enough to believe me. I can see why you like him. How's Bucky? Look after him for me. Things between us are complicated, don't get too wrapped in it if you can help it. It's up to me to sort things out between us. Just avoid hanging out with him one on one.

Looking forward to hearing back from you. I expect details about how you're going to fix this in your next letter.

- Steve

I expect the note to end there, but it continues. The handwriting isn't the same though. It takes me a few seconds to register who the handwriting belongs to; Sebastian. I gulp, hands trembling.

Okay, bud, I knew you had your head in the clouds and loved to play pretend, living in those fantasy worlds of yours, I just never thought you disappear into one. How'd you manage to pull this one off? Deal with the devil? Whatever it is, reverse it if you can. That isn't your home, Chris. You don't belong there. We both know how Steve's story ends, I'm not about to let it end you. Come home. I'll be here waiting for you. Please don't make me wait forever.
Yours, Sebastian.

I didn't prepare myself to receive something from him, I wasn't even remotely ready. My fingers trace his beautiful but messy handwriting, the ink still fresh. I smile, vision getting blurry as tears swell in my eyes. I struggle to hold them back, reading his words again, and then again, engraving them inside my head. I've never missed him this much before, this intensely, it's suffocating. I want to send a response right now, but decide against it. I'm not in the right mental state now, this has thrown me off. Now I really need to sleep.

I rip up the note, not about to risk any of the team finding it. I bury the pieces in my front left jean pocket and then remove my jacket, zipping up the pocket the box is in before placing it on the dresser. I'll write a response in the morning, before I have to head downstairs to make breakfast. How the hell I think I'm going to pretend to know what I'm doing when I train Peter tomorrow I have no idea, but I'm terrified to find out.

The door handle turns, I awkwardly place my hands to my hips, my horrible attempt at acting like Steve. I need sleep to recharge my two brain cells. I plaster on a smile as Bucky steps in, only wearing a towel that's around his waist.

Jesus almighty Christ.

He's more built than Sebastian, his abs way more defined and toned. His skin is still slightly damp, droplets of water falling from his gorgeous hair and drifting down his chest. I try not to check him out, I promise, but I can't stop myself. It's Bucky fucking Barnes, okay?? He's perfect. He hasn't noticed me drooling over him yet, attention on his phone. I watch the muscles in his arm flex as he raises it to dry his hair with a towel, his metal one still holding the phone. I want him to choke me out.

"I was gonna suggest we watch a movie or somethin', but I'm fried." He says, walking over to the dresser. Nope, I can't watch him dress. I can't have the strength to do that. I draw the fucking line. I pull Steve's phone from my pocket, using it as my distraction as I hear him rifling through the drawers.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted." I squeak, scrolling through Steve's contact list. He has all the Avengers in here, even Thor, who I never pegged as someone that would own a cellphone. Thor's not on earth right now, I don't think. This world is a little different from what's in the movies, so I don't really know what's still the same yet. Maybe Thor's on earth somewhere right now and has one of the stones. I'll call him tomorrow and find out. Now that I know what to do with the stones when I get them, I need to figure out where each of them actually are. Stan could've told me, or at the very least given me a few hints. I'm just an awkward nerd from Boston, I have no idea what I'm doing.

I hear footsteps. I glance up, relived to see that Bucky's thrown on some clothes. He even put on sweatpants, thank god. I was afraid he'd be like Sebastian and sleep in just his boxers. My heart can't handle that tonight, or ever. "Do you still sleep on the right side?" He asks with a yawn, grabbing a blacked colored hairbrush off the dresser. Suddenly I have an urge to brush his hair.

"I don't care, whichever side you don't sleep on, I'll take." I say with a shrug of my shoulders, captivated by his muscles moving as he runs the brush through his hair.

He smirks, "Why're you staring at me? Do I have something on my face?" Yeah, beauty.

I shake my head, "No, I was just spacing out."

He doesn't believe me, eyes narrowing, "You know, for the leader of the Avengers, you're an awfully bad liar." He notes, wicked look in his eyes making my stomach flip. He steps forward, ceasing the brushing, eyes flickering to my lips, his own turning up to form an intoxicatingly beautiful smile.

"Can I brush your hair?" I blurt out before I can stop myself, smiling awkwardly immediately afterwards.

He tilts his head to the side, blinking his eyes at me, gorgeous lips parting slightly. "This isn't a girl's sleepover, Stevie." He flirtatiously teases me. I can feel my cheeks heating up. He shrugs his shoulders, "But sure, I'm too lazy to do it anyway." He tosses me the brush, biting down on his bottom lip as I tell him to sit on the bed.

I stand up behind him, getting a good grip on the brush before I run it through his hair. It's softer than I imagined, like silk between my fingers, "Why're you suddenly so obsessed with me? First you repaint the star on my arm, which the team has been endlessly teasing me about ever since, thanks for that. Now you're brushing my hair? What's up with you, baby doll?"

Baby doll. Fuck. It Isn't my fault Steve doesn't give Bucky the attention he deserves. If I didn't have all these stones to collect and a time limit, I'd just spend constant time with Bucky, show him the love he deserves, that he hasn't gotten in so long. Maybe I still can. But now I've got Steve basically telling me to lay off his man, so maybe I should step back, remember my place in this. Bucky isn't mine, but he isn't Steve's either. Steve has a girlfriend, he can't be calling dibs on Bucky. Fuck him.

I continue brushing his hair, surprised to see that there aren't any knots. He must use a really good conditioner. "I'm not obsessed with you, I'm just looking after you. It's different."

"I mean, I ain't complaining." He says with a vibrant chuckle, leaning back, his back hitting my chest. My breath hitches momentarily, "I'm just not used to you being so affectionate." He rasps. He looks up at me, a pleased smile on his face. "I like it, way more than I should."

"Oh?" I raise my left brow. "Is that so?" I question, running the brush through his hair gently.

His smile widens, blue eyes sparkling. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Don't kiss him, don't kiss him, don't kiss him, for fucks sake don't kiss him!

I kiss him.

Nothing big, just a chaste peak to his lips, just enough to satisfy the ache inside me. His lips feel soft against my rougher ones. He can't grab ahold of me because of the angle, a desperate whine leaving his lips as I pull back as he starts to softly kiss back. "Be still, I have to finish brushing this, Rapunzel." I order with a chuckle, internally screaming at myself, because that didn't satisfy anything, it just made it worse.

So much worse.

He moves back to his original spot, faintly cursing as I continue brushing through his hair, "You just kissed me, causally, like you're my boyfriend or some shit, but you don't want me to even react to it? You're completely fucking with my head." He groans, shaking his head a little. He doesn't get up though. "Fuck. You're really killing me here."

No, I'm not. Am I? Fuck, am I just as bad as Steve? "Sorry." I sigh, biting the inside of my cheek nervously, "It won't happen again." I finish brushing, admiring his hair before placing the brush on the dresser, "I'll just go back to my room." I decide guiltily. I begin to grab my jacket, hanging my head low.

"Don't," His pleads, voice coming from right behind me. I gulp, counting in my head to calm myself down, "Stay,"

I turn, coming face to face with him, only a few itches of distance between us. He feels too far away. The tension in the air has reached another level, an invisible force drawing me towards him, it hard to resist. But I manage, forcing myself to think about Sebastian. I love Sebastian. I love his happy smiles and vibrant laugh. He's the one I want. But I wouldn't be opposed to having Bucky, especially since Sebastian doesn't want me.. No. Stop.

I avert my eyes from his, looking to the bed, "Let's go to sleep then."

I hear him sigh as I walk off, removing my shoes and tossing them into the corner. "One of these days I'm going to force you to talk to me about this."

Hopefully it'll be Steve, and not me. There's only so much restraint I can have towards this man. With Sebastian it's always me following him around like a lost puppy, it's the exact opposite with Steve. Bucky's obsessed with him. It'd be so nice to let myself get caught up in it, be loved by Bucky Barnes. I worry I'd never want to go back home if I let myself have a relationship with Bucky, that scares me. Just because Sebastian doesn't reciprocate my feelings, I can't abandon him. I can't abandon my family and friends. Steve doesn't belong there, and Sebastian's right, I don't belong here either.

"I have a girlfriend, Buck." I use as my argument again as he pulls back the comforter on the bed.

He sits on the left side, eyes cast to me, "Says the one that just kissed me." He sharply rebuttals, smirking at me as I get into the bed on the opposite side, "You could just dump her, it's kind of fucked that you're with her anyway. She's Peggy's niece, Steve, it's weird."

He turns the overhead light off by clapping his hands, I laugh. He laughs too, his prettier than mine by a long shot. Why Steve wanted to date Peggy's niece? I have no idea. But yes, it's weird. The writers love the weird stuff over gay stuff any day, cowards.

I lay down, pulling the blanket up to my neck. I hear Bucky sigh and then move, he's moving closer to me. I can't really make out his face much through the darkness, but I turn on my side anyway, that tug to be closer building up inside me again, "Do you love her?" He whispers asks, so low I almost miss it.

It's obvious Steve doesn't. But is it my place to say that? "I don't know."

I can hear his gentle breathing now, his hand suddenly on my face, tracing my lips with his warm fingertips slowly. I can hear the sounds of traffic outside, along with the sound of Bucky's fast beating heart, "Do you love me?"

"I-" He places his fingers to my lips, hushing me.

"I don't mean as a friend, Steve. If you dare say 'of course, you're my best friend.' I'll go kill your girlfriend right now, don't test me,"

Well fuck. I need to move away from him, he's getting too close, my resolve is disappearing the longer I breathe in the intoxicating scent of him, his metallic hand moving to my face now, cupping my cheek. It's cold, but not an uncomfortable cold. It's nice, the contrast between his hands, one unbelievable warm, while his artificial one is freezing.

"Are you confused, is that it? You're figuring out your sexuality and using me to help? Because I'm okay with that,"

You shouldn't be okay with that. That's fucked. "I'd never use you." I confess truthfully, even if I can't say the same for Steve. Maybe Steve is confused about everything, or afraid. I can sympathize, but that doesn't excuse the way he treats Bucky. Bucky doesn't deserve it.

He groans, fingernails scratching at my face a little as he curves his fingers, it feels good, "God, why're you so difficult then? Just be straight with me. Okay? I'll ask you something and you reply with a simple yes or no."

I consider it for a moment. I don't really see the harm in that. "Okay."

He hums in satisfaction, touches turning gentle again, "Good boy. Are you attracted to me?"

Never mind, I quit. This is a terrible idea. But I'm lost in the sweet touches of his hands on my face, so loving and inviting. He isn't making any moves or crossing any lines, he's just caressing my face. "Yes." I murmur shyly. My confession weighs heavily between us.

He makes a happy little noise that makes my heart flutter like a goddamn school girl, "Do you regret what happened in the closet?"

"No." Only thing I regret is that it ended so fast, as bad as that is. If Sharon hadn't called there's no telling how far things would've went.

He shifts a little closer, warm breath hitting my face, "Do you want anything like that to happen again?" His hands move down to my neck, creating goosebumps in their wake.

I swallow nervously, forcing my hands to stay where they are. I can't touch him. I also really don't need to answer this question, "Yes."

He rests his forehead onto mine, our uneven breathing mixing together, "Could you ever love me that way?"

I think I already do. I know Steve does. But I'm not Steve. I wish I was, more than anything in the world. Maybe if the real Steve wasn't trapped in my world, I'd let myself do this. I'd let myself have Bucky.

"We need to sleep, Buck. I gotta get up early.."

He removes his hands from my skin, a heavy sigh escaping his lips, "Okay, just one more? Please?"

I give in, "Fine, one more."

He inhales sharply, heart rate picking up. I can almost feel how nervous he is, like we're connected or something. "Can I hold you? I have night terrors and I think it would help. You're my anchor to reality,"

My heart melts. Yup, I'm in love with him, no doubt about it. It's taken me less than a week to fall completely under his spell. "Yeah, 'course."

Though I can't see his face, I know he's smiling. I can sense it. "Turn over then."

I do as told, rolling over on my other side and smiling to myself as he wraps his muscular arms around me, burying his face in crook of my neck from behind, "Is this okay?" He asks softly, breath tickling my skin.

I close my eyes, enjoying the warmth of him and how I can feel his heartbeat instead of just hearing it, "Hmm, yeah."

"We haven't done this since we were teenagers," He rasps softly, inhaling deeply, is he smelling me? Cute.

"You always insist on being the big spoon." I tease, believing 100% that that's what Steve would say.

He chuckles against my skin, hold on me tightening, like he's afraid I'm going to disappear, "Duh, you're the baby, Stevie. I gotta protect you."

The butterflies are real, man. Goddamn. "You don't have to protect me anymore." I whisper softly, "I'm all grown up."

"I'll always protect you."

I grin, pulling the blanket up more as our legs tangle together, "I'll do the same."

"Always and forever?" He asks sleepily, voice getting softer.

"Always and forever." I confirm without hesitation.

I know he's falling asleep now, his hold on me loosening as his breathing evens out, "Will you still be here when I wake up?"

"I'm not going anywhere." I promise. He doesn't say anything back, but I feel him smile against my skin.

I could get used to this.