Chapter Text
Steve and Bucky
“And we’re sure about this?“ Bucky asks. He’s smiling his most convincing smile and waving at the new neighbors. “He looks like a tax accountant.”
Steve’s not sure that Bucky’s most convincing smile is very convincing yet. It looks more like he’s gritting his teeth. But the neighbors are far enough away that he doesn’t think they’ll notice. So he waves at them, too, before taking two of the grocery bags out of the trunk of their SUV. Their colorful SUV. Which Stark assured him had all the tech benefits of an actual SHIELD mobile without the drawback of being completely conspicuous. “Banner looks like a nerd, too,” he says easily. Bucky hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting the green guy yet, but the reference shouldn’t be lost on him.
“Thought we were talking inhuman and not radiation here,” Bucky replies with a shrug.
So Bucky’s done his homework. Steve nods, pleased even though it’s still a soldier thing, being prepared at all times, not a thing that is genuinely Bucky. But it’s better than just waiting for orders like he’s done in the beginning. “Inhuman, radiation, no one knows. All SHIELD’s figured out is that there’s something off about the guy. Hence, us.”
“Isn’t this shit below your pay grade?” Bucky asks and grabs the other two grocery bags.
Now it’s Steve’s turn to shrug. He can’t quite come out and say that he begged to get this assignment. To get the chance to get Bucky away from the Avengers’ Tower for a while.
It’s not even the missions. It’s the constant prodding and probing. Stark wanting to get his hands on the workings of Bucky’s arm. Banner wanting to talk anger management. Nat and Clint – well, they are Nat and Clint. They’re not too bad. Actually, Nat’s probably Bucky’s only friend apart from Steve. He should have seen that coming. Their history is not the same, but they share a Russian past. And if he’s got to share Bucky with someone, Steve’s glad it is Natasha. Ever since the whole deal at the Triskelion, he trusts Natasha more than about anyone else. Apart from Bucky himself, that is.
He smiles at Bucky’s back where he is already disappearing into the house. Pretty much everyone has called Steve mad for this. For trusting Bucky with his life, when Bucky doesn’t trust himself to pick out cereal at the store. He’s got a feeling that their house has Tony on speed dial, too, and that any incident is going to be reported back to the Avengers’ Tower. Ah well, he’s just gotta make sure that there are no incidents.
An hour later they’re sitting on their porch, conveniently located so that they can see the comings and goings on the other side of the fence.
“You should offer them refreshments,” Bucky says.
“Like what? Homemade lemonade?” Steve asks, shorter than he wants to be. But the 1940s vibe of the street is getting to him.
“I could make some,” Bucky answers, not reacting to the tone at all.
“You remember how to do that?” Steve asks surprised. Bucky’s made lemonade and iced teas for him in the hot summers of the early 40s, when Steve was too engrossed in painting to care for hydration.
Bucky rolls his eyes. “Stark showed me how to use google.”
“Oh,” Steve replies and feels disappointed. Then he reminds himself that he should be glad that Bucky remembers him at all.
“Could you sound any more enthusiastic,” Bucky shakes his head. “Thought you’d approve of me getting to know the new technologies.”
He hides it well, but Bucky’s still got that look of a kicked puppy. “I do,” Steve hurries to say. “You’re so much more tech-savvy than me, it’s amazing.”
It’s not an empty praise, either. Bucky’s actually taking much faster to modern life than Steve did. But it definitely doesn’t hurt saying it out loud, because Bucky suddenly has one of his rare smiles going and he’s ducking his head like he wants to hide a blush. “I’ll go make that lemonade,” he mumbles and is gone before Steve can say anything else.
Steve feels like a fossil for real when they finally make their way over to the new neighbors, a tray with homemade lemonade in hand. They’re giving off a Stepford vibe that would have him suspicious of himself if he didn’t know better. But he tries to smile when they approach the neighboring house.
It’s not just the one they’re interested in, ‘tax accountant guy’ as Bucky has dubbed him. There’s also two others, the one they think has intimate relations with tax accountant guy, and a tall dude, who as far as they can tell is boyfriend’s brother. It’s hard to say since the whole group is using so many fake IDs that not even SHIELD was completely clear on who everyone is. Hence, the need for undercover agents to figure it out.
Steve tenses when boyfriend turns to them. It’s a small motion, the movement immediately aborted, but he sees how the guy’s hand strays towards his waistband. Going for a gun before remembering that they’re moving in and shouldn’t shoot the neighbors. Alright, suddenly he doesn’t feel quite so out of place anymore. At least Steve remembered his role well enough that he didn’t forget that he’s not supposed to shoot anyone.
“Hello there, neighbors,” Bucky calls out from where he’d stayed a half step behind Steve.
Oh yeah, Steve remembers, they’re supposed to make conversation and build trust. “We brought lemonade,” he says lamely. “Thought you might be thirsty. What with you moving in and everything.” Right. Way to state the obvious, he sighs inwardly. He might be out of the ice longer than Bucky’s been away from HYDRA, but his small talk skills are still lacking.
Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to be the only one with problems in that regard, because tax accountant guy squints at the lemonade like it’s personally offending him, and boyfriend still looks like he’d rather shoot his way out of this than engage in social interaction.
It’s tall guy who saves them. He rolls his eyes at the other two and shoulders his way past them. “Chill, dudes,” he says to his companions and turns to Steve, stretching out a hand for him to take. “You got to excuse them, they’re not always this rude. They just have their preconceived notions about suburbia. Which I’m sure your new neighbors don’t share,” he adds with a hard glare towards his friends.
“Uhh, I’m not sure I follow?” Steve says confused and juggles the tray around a bit to be able to shake the guy’s hand. “I’m Steve by the way.”
“Sam,” the tall guy nods, “and I mean the whole two guys moving in together thing. Still a bit of a novelty in suburbia, isn’t it?”
“Uhh,” Steve says intelligently.
“Well, they got used to us without too much trouble. I’m James,” Bucky saves him, though Steve has to swallow at the insinuation in Bucky’s words that he’s not sure was entirely intended. Though it might have been. Once upon a time, it would have been. If just because he knew it would make Steve blush. But now? It might be part of their cover or it might be innocent or it might be Bucky having fun riling Steve. He can’t tell.
“I can’t see how that could have gone any other way, what with the nice welcome you’re giving Dean and Cas - Castiel,” Sam smiles. “Also, I keep telling my brother that Americans are becoming more accepting of alternate lifestyles and to stop being such a worrywart.”
While Sam seems to be enjoying himself and keeps holding onto Bucky’s hand, his brother – actually his brother it seems – is openly scowling now.
“Lemonade?” Steve asks and shoulders his way in between Bucky and Sam when he thinks the handshake has gone on long enough.
“Of course,” Sam laughs and lets go.
There’s a tiny smirk in Bucky’s eye when he looks over at Steve, or at least Steve thinks it’s there. His imagination might be playing tricks on him. Then Bucky grabs the pitcher and fills the glasses to hand them out one by one. It’s surreal, seeing Bucky like this, perfectly docile, serving drinks, like he’s not only playing the role of the suburbanite, but like he actually takes a weird sort of pleasure in filling the role of the 1940s housewife in this little charade.
“So, what’s the deal with the arm?” Brother slash boyfriend asks when Bucky hands him his glass. It sounds hostile and Steve can’t help but notice that in opposition to Sam, who immediately took a sip of his lemonade, boyfriend guy doesn’t. He gives his significant other a meaningful glance, too, that Steve takes to mean as ‘let’s see whether Sam keels over first before we try this concoction’. His glare gets even harder when his boyfriend doesn’t listen, and instead sniffs at the lemonade, then tries it, and finally downs half his glass in one big gulp.
“Oh, war injury,” Bucky says lightly. “I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“Just doesn’t seem like your typical prosthesis, is all,” the guy grumbles.
“That’s because it isn’t. It’s state of the art. Sort of an experiment, actually. Which is the only way I can afford tech like that,” Bucky laughs and if you don’t know him as well as Steve does, you probably don’t even notice how uncomfortable the topic makes him.
“Buck,” Steve says quietly, trying to let him know that it’s alright to change the topic if he’s uncomfortable.
“It’s okay, Steve,” Bucky smiles and turns back to the others. “Steve here helps. With - everything. He’s always there when I need him.”
“That’s very nice. Isn’t that nice, Dean? Always being there for each other.”
The voice is deeper than Steve expected, startling him somewhat. There is no friendly smile to go with the words and boyfriend guy – Dean - cringes ever so slightly at the words. There’s something there, history that they don’t know of. But it’s the first time the guy they’re after is talking, so Steve takes it as a good sign.
“We all try our best to be there for our loved ones, don’t we?” Steve says and it doesn’t come out quite as light and small talk as he intended it to be.
Squinty guy’s eyes soften somewhat at the words and he even gives him a smile. “They make it hard sometimes.”
It’s also meant to sound casual, Steve is sure, but it is anything but.
“Uhh, guys, I don’t want to interrupt, but we really should keep working. I’ve got to get out of here in a few hours,” Sam says, fidgeting slightly. “It was really good to meet you, though.”
“You, too,” Steve nods and hands the tray over to Sam, if only to make sure there will be no shaking Bucky’s hand to say goodbye. “Keep the rest of the lemonade. You can bring back the tray and the glasses whenever.”
“Thanks,” Sam nods.
“See you around, neighbors.” This time, Bucky’s smile could almost be mistaken for genuine, and for a second there, Steve thinks Bucky’s going to smuggle his hand into Steve’s but he doesn’t. He just comes closer until his arm is almost brushing Steve’s and then looks up at him, waiting demurely for Steve to lead them home. There is something about it that is deeply unsettling.
***
Dean and Cas
As soon as the new neighbors are out of sight Sam turns around to look scoldingly at Dean, “Seriously, Dean? May I remind you that you are supposed to fit in? You can’t treat your new neighbors like this.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Even you have to admit that there is something off about them.”
“I think they are very nice,” Cas states dryly.
Dean sighs. He knows when he is outnumbered. “Still doesn’t mean that I have to trust them,” he mumbles petulantly.
Sam shakes his head. “No one told you that you have to trust them. Come on, we should probably talk about this inside. Who knows who might be listening.”
For once, Dean has to agree with his little brother and without any further comment he turns around and goes inside. Sam looks questioningly at Cas but the angel just shrugs. Right, his brother is an idiot sometimes, Sam remembers.
Inside, a few unopened boxes are scattered around the floor. There hadn’t actually been that much they had to pack, since neither Cas nor Dean own that much in the first place. It is mostly lore and weapons. The house itself came already furnished with the essentials, though Dean immediately complained about the lack of TV and Netflix. Sam guesses that that will be the first thing Dean remedies, even before buying the rest of the furniture and accessories they need. Like sheets for the queen sized bed for example. No way Sam is staying for that part.
“So you think our new neighbors are nice?” Dean rounds in on Cas and Sam turns to head over to the kitchen to put the lemonade down. He doesn’t want to be a part of this conversation. Not with the way that there had been a dangerous glint in Dean’s eyes when Cas had not hesitated drinking the lemonade after giving the tall blonde guy – Steve was it? – a smile.
“Yes, Dean,” Cas answers, drawing out the answer like he’s already exasperated by this whole deal. “I think them nice. It was very considerate of Steve to bring us lemonade.”
Dean apparently chokes on his spit because he starts coughing violently. “Yeah, tall, well-built considerate Steve… Who the hell is called Steve anyway?”
“Dean,” Cas counters sternly. “Don’t hate on the name. I chose it for myself when I was human, remember?”
There is a grumble and a muttered, “Well, yeah, I didn’t like that, either.” And then the sound of something being lifted off the ground. “I’ll bring this upstairs.”
Half a minute later, an upset angel joins Sam in the kitchen. “I don’t think this is a very good idea, Sam. Dean does not want to do this.”
Sam sighs. “Well, tough shit. He’ll just have to deal. I’ve already introduced myself as the brother. It would be hella weird to change the arrangements now.” Also, he doesn’t want to. He wants to get out of here and let his brother and the angel figure this whole thing out for themselves. Also, he might or might not want to get back to Lebanon to pick up the puppy he found last week from the shelter.
“But are you really sure that this case warrants all of this? I mean, renting a house is beyond what we normally do.”
“Yeah, Cas, I know,” Sam pats the angel on the arm awkwardly. “But I’m sure you two can figure it out.” He hopes like hell they can, anyway, because living in the bunker with the permanent tension between these two has become impossible. “I’ll hit the books and send you anything relevant, okay?”
“If you’re sure,” Cas growls and manages to sound even more disgruntled than Dean.
“Look, Cas, it’s not you,” Sam soothes, though he’s pretty sure that it is absolutely Cas, just in a different way than Cas thinks right now. “Dean’s not good with humans sometimes, you’re going to have to help him adapt.”
And if Cas’ eyes could bulge out of his head they probably would. “You want me to help Dean deal with humans?”
Sam laughs a little self-consciously, because yeah, on the surface it makes no sense at all that dorky Angel of the Lord Castiel should be the one who’s better at human interaction, but the point stands. “Dean’s good with playing a role for a day, be it the efficient FBI agent or the friendly counselor. But he ain’t good at relationships. You got to help him with that, Cas.”
Cas just squints at him confused and, yeah, Sam is getting nowhere here. Short of actually spelling this out – and you can drag his soul right back to hell before he’s having that talk with Cas, thank you very much.
“You know what, you two can figure it out together. What a normal life means. What you got to do to make it work.”
Now Cas is not only confused, he looks downright suspicious and his voice is hard when he answers. “Do you plan on kicking me out again? Because if you do, you better say it outright, not set up a flimsy case to, I don’t know - train me up to be able to cope on my own? I’m still millenia old, I coped fine without the two of you.”
“Jesus, Cas,” Sam holds his hands up in defense and takes a few steps backward to get some space between them. Angry angel is never good, no matter how fallen. “You’re family, okay? No one is planning on throwing you out. Dean shouldn’t have done it the first time around, either. Alright?”
Cas scowls at him like nothing is alright, and yeah, it probably isn’t. But it’s the best Sam can do right this second.
“Look, Cas, it’s just a month or so, okay? Dean will get his shit together.” He’s pleading now and he knows it. He probably also shouldn’t make it so obvious that he plans on actually letting them sit here for at least this whole month.
But Cas doesn’t seem to notice, instead he nods with a huff. “The lemonade is actually pretty good, you know.”
“Yeah, still maybe don’t flirt too much with that Steve guy.” And Sam should really know when to keep his trap shut because he’s getting hit with an indignant stare that he thinks might actually be able to kill him.
“I did not!”
“Okay, okay, Cas, it was a joke, of course you did not. Umm, and I think I really need to be on my way to get back to Lebanon before nightfall. You two good with unpacking the boxes and everything?”
“Yes. We are quite capable, Sam.”
Sam would like to argue that point, if for the sole reason that if they actually were that capable, he’d never have had to go to these desperate lengths to give them a shot at working this out, but hey, he’s got to put at least some trust in them. “I’ll go say goodbye to Dean then and be on my way.”
***
Steve and Bucky
“You got to give it to SHIELD, their info is good,” Bucky remarks once they’re safely back inside their own house. “Didn’t actually think the guys would show.”
Steve shrugs. “SHIELD’s been tracking them for a while now. It showed up on their radar when they signed the lease.”
“But SHIELD couldn’t give us names? Or a description that fit them a bit more accurately?” Bucky scoffs.
“Fit them more accurately?” Steve frowns. Because Bucky knows as well as Steve that SHIELD is all about telling only as much as is necessary to achieve the mission parameters, and they did have pictures.
“No one told us they were – specimen.”
“What?”
“Well, tall, handsome, broad-shouldered - you’ve seen them, right? There won’t be a minute of peace as soon as the cougars notice them.”
Steve suppresses his cough and tries to keep his face blank. “Looks like you’ve noticed them, too.”
Bucky has the audacity to laugh at that, and while Steve is happy about any emotion he can draw out of Bucky these days, he still doesn’t really appreciate it when it’s at his expense.
“You’re one to talk. Like you didn’t notice that Cas guy.”
“At least I didn’t hold his hand for the better part of ten minutes,” Steve grits out and it’s not worthy of Captain America to get worked up over this, but he can’t help it.
“Jeez, Steve, you’re getting into the role of the jealous husband too much.”
It’s said flippantly but it leaves them in an awkward silence when Steve has no idea what to answer to that. “Sorry,” is all he finally mumbles.
Bucky sighs and shrugs. “It’s fine. We’re going to have to play our parts, so if you’re getting into it, that’s all the better I guess. That Dean is quick with the trigger finger.”
“You noticed that, too, huh?”
Bucky nods. His memory may have more holes than Swiss cheese, but his tactical instincts have yet to fail him.
“For the record, I didn’t notice that Cas guy. It was - camaraderie, is all.” A weird sort of camaraderie, that for a moment there felt not unlike what happens in the trenches. Just in this case, the common cause was being two husbands trying to keep their bratty spouses from doing something they’d regret later. It made sense for a minute there.
Steve rubs a hand over his face. All of this is way too confusing.
“You don’t gotta explain yourself to me, Cap,” Bucky says and while he’s stoic as ever, Steve’s still got the feeling that there is something like sadness lingering in his eyes.
“You’re my friend, Buck. Of course I do,” Steve replies, using the nickname to counter the ‘Cap’ on purpose.
Bucky acknowledges it with a nod but doesn’t probe any further. Instead he changes topic. “Want to try out whether either of us remembers how to make a decent meal without Tony’s support staff to help?”
“We grew up during the depression, don’t think we ever knew,” Steve sighs.
“Time to learn new things, then,” Bucky says and the determined look on his face is the same the tackles a new weapon with.