#v; ok so now we do the play ; act like we so care (cptnrgers)

[sxrgeantbarnes]

@cptnrgers || closed starter

Bucky Barnes has pissed off Nick Fury one too many times, it seems. Because this mission was a lot of things— it was time consuming, it was important, it required a lot of moving parts from him, his partner, and SHIELD HQ. Obnoxiously, it also felt like a punishment. A direct retaliation for all those times he ran off from his team without communicating his next move. The best way to teach someone a lesson was, apparently, sending them off to get married to the one coworker they couldn’t be in the same room as without throwing some serious pointed glares. 

So Bucky finds himself married to Steve Rogers. Without even a wedding to show for it. No bells, no vows, not even a slip of paper from city hall. His life as a bachelor ended the moment his boss handed him a gold band and told him to get to work. Real or not— and the answer is very, very much not— to the outside world, he was committed to Steve ‘til death do them part. It’s not like it was particularly embarrassing. He won’t bend the truth for his pride and attempt to say Steve isn’t physically attractive. He was gorgeous, that was as much fact as opinion. He also happened to possess a good work ethic, and a genuine care for others’ well-being. He’d make a great pretend husband for someone who could stand him.

That person was not Bucky.

“That picket fence is straight out of a hallmark movie.” He muttered as he watched the house, their house, come into view. Almost identical to the every one around it, the entire street neat and tidy in a way that seemed to forbid individual personality. Whether that was due to some kind of Homeowners Association garbage or an expression of the neighbors was yet to be determined. “Adorable.” The ring that he’d been fiddling with the entire drive finally slid down his finger, settling into place in a way that felt final. The beginning of a new reality for who knows how long. 

The boxes behind his seat jostle noisily as the car comes to a stop. Taped shut, marked ‘FRAGILE’, containing a whole host of SHIELD equipment. He's out the door before the car can even be put in park, snatching the set of keys that laid in the cup holder. “I’ll open it up. Do me a favor and grab the box that looks heaviest—“ He looked back, drawling out “Sweetheart.” With a self amused smirk that didn’t leave his lips as he made his way to the front door.

[sxrgeantbarnes]

There should be nothing competitive about a coin toss. There wasn’t any skill involved, only a random 50/50 chance on both sides. Still, Bucky stares fiercely at that quarter like he could physically control it with his mind and bend those odds in his favor.

Of course, the universe was currently on a ‘screw Bucky Barnes’ streak— and not in a fun way. “Son of a bitch.” He groans, falling backwards from his perch against the couch, landing on what will be his bed for the next however many weeks. It was just as uncomfortable as it looked, barely any give to the cushions. His back was going to be killing him by the first night.

He barely huffs out acknowledgement at what Steve said, too busy staring at the ceiling and wondering just how much time he could realistically avoid Steve before it affected their cover. Not much, he assumes. They needed to form some semblance of a partnership. It just never worked back home, their personalities always ended up clashing at some point. There was never any middle ground, Bucky was too impulsive and Steve wasn’t lenient enough for his liking.

The urge to kick his feet and complain that the sarcastic pet names were his idea first, was not something he was proud of. 

“Yeah, carry in those boxes. You should cement your place as the tough guy in this relationship. I think I’d like to take up the role as your trophy husband who doesn’t have to lift a finger.” Hopping up from his position, he makes a beeline towards the closest closet he could see. Which, upon closer inspection, is definitely not a linen closet— if the empty hooks and shelves clearly made to hold weapons was any indication.

He rolls his eyes, turning instead to walk past Steve, opening the front door for him nice and wide. Feast your eyes, nosy neighbors. “I can sit around looking pretty and sipping wine while you do all the heavy lifting. You know, to really sell this cover.” With a smile, he smacks an obnoxiously loud kiss to his cheek before walking away, “I hope you know how to use a lawn mower!” 

His voice echoes behind him as he shoves his head into another closet, trying not to let his thoughts be overtaken by how much they’d have to work on the whole affection thing to make it seem natural. It’s not like him to focus so much on tiny details, but these were things that could make their cover even the slightest bit questionable. And, well. There was something much bigger at play here. Something that made keeping this cover airtight a priority for him. Slipping up had a domino effect that he wasn’t willing to risk.

He’ll talk to Steve about it. He will. 

His head thumps forward against a pile of brand new bedding. God, he hates talks.

Steve doesn't move to check the third bedroom. It's unnecessary after Barnes' confirmation and he figures it's not something the guy would lie about. And honestly, Steve's not even that surprised about the one bed. SHIELD does tend to go all-in when it comes to these kind of missions and were it any other partner Steve had to bunk with, it wouldn't even be that much of an issue. But this is Barnes of all people. Sharing a house is bad enough already.

With a huff, Steve slowly turns to take in the rest of their surroundings. The couch might be the best option (other than the bed, obviously), but it does not look comfortable at all. It's one of those modern (or eclectic, is that what they call it these days?) couches that will look amazing in any interior, but Steve can already tell that the cushions are too firm and, while it's long enough to sleep on without having to bend the legs, it's definitely not deep enough to comfortably sleep on. Not with how they're build.

He's about to share his opinion on said couch, but there's something about the way Barnes is looking at him while wiggling those stupid eyebrows, how he called him 'darling', that makes him change his mind. It's almost like the guy's challenging him, and Steve.. well, he's never been one to back down.

"Very funny," is all Steve says as he narrows his eyes at the other. Like Barnes, Steve is no stranger to clever remarks and sarcastic comments, but somehow he can't think of a good comeback. His annoyance is definitely overshadowing his sense of humor right now.

Before Barnes can get in another word, Steve reaches for his wallet to get a quarter and then tosses it. It's a tense moment. Steve's palm covering the coin that's resting on the back of his other hand. It's way more charged than it should be, but this is it; this is the moment that's gonna decide just how hard the next few months will be.

Steve lifts his hand enough to sneak a peek, and then he's grinning and pulling his hand back completely to show Barnes the outcome. "Tails," he says, voice a little louder than intended, but he can't fucking help it. He's relieved.

"I'm sorry, darling." His grin widens a little as he looks from Barnes to the couch and then back again. "I'm going to get the last few boxes from the car. Maybe you can go and check the closets for some extra bedding. Looks like you'll need a few blankets."

[sxrgeantbarnes]

It was a strange feeling, having Steve’s arm come across his shoulders— made Bucky more intimately aware of their inch or two height difference. He almost tensed as he was casually led back into the house, but quickly reminded himself that Steve was supposed to be his husband. This sort of touch was to be expected. Hell, he was just hanging off that arm. It was just different to have it happen to him rather than initiating the touch himself. Especially because he’s pretty sure Steve had never actually touched him before. He can't even remember a quick high five or pat on the back after a mission. They didn’t do that. And now they had to pretend to share some sort of affection with each other. 

He was the worst candidate for this type of undercover work, playing house. A fact he’s told Fury more than once. His response was always the same, it rang in his ear now. It has to be you, Barnes. You know why it has to be you. 

“Don’t sound so surprised, Rogers.” His arms crossed as he closed the door by leaning against it. Charming. “I am very charming. I’ll get this whole neighborhood wrapped around my finger in a week, just you watch.” 

He watched as Steve went to go check out the bedrooms, walked over to sit on the back of the couch as he waited for him to figure out what Bucky's problem with them was. One bed. Bullshit. He didn’t expect anyone barging in at night and questioning their sleeping arrangements. So, logically, it didn’t make sense for SHIELD to skimp on another bed. What, is it supposed to help them bond or something? Because that– that was a whole separate issue.

One they’d have to have a discussion about. They needed to fake a bond enough that came across as real and not forced. He’s not going to just need to get comfortable with Steve’s touch, but become completely familiar with it. They'd need to do things like holding hands and. They're going to need to kiss at some point, right? Was it plausible to get away with portraying happy newlyweds without that? 

It was important that they came across as happy, enamored with each other. No one wants to put their trust into the sad neighbors who can't even hold a new marriage together. No, they want to question those neighbors, stick their noses into some juicy gossip. That's not ideal for the mission- the less questions coming their way, the better.

Christ, he's not even sure he knows what a happy marriage looks like.

Steve appears again to pull him out of his thoughts, “Yeah. Just the one. Our little matrimonial bed– ain’t that sweet?” He batted his lashes with a happy little smile, before dropping the sarcastic act. “Flip a coin for the couch? Heads I get the bed, tails you do? Unless, you’re looking to consummate this marriage, darling.” His lips stretch again, eyebrows exaggeratedly jumping up and down.

Oh, but Barnes is good. That much Steve has to admit from what he's seen so far. It isn't much; just Barnes being all clingy and cheerful the way newlyweds are supposed to be, but it's perfect. Even Ms. Thompson ( 'please, call me Pam' ) seems to think so what with the way she's grinning at them. She promises cookies and gnomes, welcomes them to the neighborhood once more, and then they finally say goodbye. Steve makes sure to pull his arm from Barnes' grip so he can wrap it around his shoulder instead to start guiding them inside. He's pretty sure Pam's still watching.

"Aren't you charming," Steve says the moment the front door closes behind them. He already let go of the other so he could give Pam – and the rest of the neighbors who were probably spying on them through their curtains – a little show; to be a gentleman and open the door for his husband. Hell, for a split second he even considered slapping Barnes' ass to mess with Pam a little ( God knows where that idea came from ) but thankfully he's well-trained in ignoring intrusive thoughts. Unlike someone else.

"What's up with the bedrooms?" Because that certainly didn't go unnoticed to Steve. The way Barnes had said it, a little too excited, definitely means trouble. Without waiting for a reply, Steve starts to make his way upstairs. The first bedroom is nice enough. Queen-sized bed, so probably the master. All cream colors and standard decoration, the kind of classic aesthetic that would always be in style for those seeking a traditional, suburban life. Not exactly Steve's style, but what does he know anyway? It's not like he actually has a style. His own apartment is as bland as can be. Up next, Steve checks the other rooms, a bathroom and another bedroom, one that has no bed, but does contain the box that Barnes just dumped here. There's an L-shaped desk in the corner with a computer, so it's a perfect set-up for their 'headquarters'. To make it seem like an actual home office, there's a bookcase filled with random books and a couch on the other side of the room — because apparently power naps are linked to better mental agility and that's exactly what a freelance writer needs. It's perfect. Still, there's one more bedroom, so it doesn't explain Barnes’ feigned enthusiasm, unless–

"There's only one bed," Steve guesses out loud as he makes his way downstairs, gaze immediately landing on Barnes. He raises an eyebrow. "Real traditional, huh?"

[sxrgeantbarnes]

The house was spotless, every piece of furniture set in perfectly placed positions. To any civilian, it would look simple and neat— but Bucky saw the strategy behind it all. The couch was angled away from the largest window in the sitting room, the wide coffee table in reach was most definitely bulletproof. The recliner chairs didn’t face the television at all, instead both facing directly across from each other— one looking north, the other south. He eyed the curtains, innocent but the pattern meant to distort shadows, not allowing any outsiders looking in to get a good mark. Wandering further in, he spotted the faint squared outlines in the wall of several secret compartments meant to store weapons for easy access. Amongst it all were knick knacks that didn’t belong to either him or Steve, and pictures in frames that some poor intern was tasked with photoshopping. It was a nice home, but unmistakably a home for two agents.

SHIELD did well so far, and he hasn’t even checked their two bedrooms upstairs. 

The box hitting his chest was met with an ‘oof’ kicked out of him, followed by a glare sent Steve’s way. Already a pain in the ass, start the timer on that. “Would’ve killed you to bring it up yourself?” He huffed, but Steve apparently already had his own agenda. Because meeting the neighbors was so much more pressing than setting up their equipment. With an eye roll, he swallows down a defiant ‘Don’t tell me what to do’ in response as he decides to heave the box upstairs. He wanted to check out the rooms anyways. 

It made sense to drop the heavy box into the spare room with no bed, and he felt relief at having it out of his arms— relief that lasted all of two seconds before something clicked. He passed the master, one big bed in there. Then the guest room, no bed. Two and two came to him with a groan. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” 

If Steve wasn’t already expecting him to go play nice with Ms. Thompson, he would have made a call to complain to SHIELD about their apparent sleeping arrangement. As it was, though, that’d have to wait. 

He lost the annoyed curl of his lip as soon as the sun hit his face, replacing it with a smile of a newlywed who’s oh-so-happy to be moving into a home with his husband. It was easy enough to spot Steve and the older woman, he made his way over like he was walking on air instead of hot coals. “Oh, Steve, wait until you see what the movers have done with the bedroom. It’s unbelievable.” He says the word as if he’s excited about their little surprise. His arm curls around Steve’s forearm as he leans against him, like it’s an easy and comfortable motion. If it’s a little tight, well, Steve can deal. He looks over at the woman, whose eyes have lit up so much they practically sparkle, before offering his free hand. “Hi there, I’m James. Steve’s husband. You know, I was hoping I’d get the chance to meet you, ma’am— I was eyeing those little gnomes of yours. You’ve got to tell me where you got them.” All a lie, those things were hideous and he refused to put them anywhere near his new fancy marital home. He has some standards. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal Steve back for a bit. We have some unpacking to do and I’m just dying for him to see the rest of the house.”

His grip on Steve’s arm tightens further, “I know he’s gonna love it. Real traditional guy, my Steve.”

Steve was kinda neutral towards the whole mission when he went into the meeting with SHIELD a little over a month ago. The exact plan had yet to be fleshed out and a lot of things were uncertain, and they even mentioned there was a possibility he'd have to go undercover with another agent for a few months, but that didn't really faze Steve. Not until he learned it was agent Barnes who was going to be his partner.

In more ways than one.

Said partner has been fiddling with his golden and too shiny ring ( they only recently married, after all ) and it is bothersome to the point that Steve's eye is nearly twitching. Other than that, the ride has been silent and peaceful, if a little tense, but it's way better than meaningless small talk. Honestly, Steve doesn't think he's even able to do small talk right now, not without an audience, at least.

They've had several weeks to prepare, but once he turns onto their street and the mission officially starts, Steve finds it surprisingly hard to slip into the right mindset. Still, he finds himself easily agreeing with Barnes' comments and even nods and hums quietly. As much as he hates to admit it; the man's right. It's like they're visiting the set of a Hallmark movie. Or Desperate Housewives, maybe. The neighborhood fits the cliche; a street of two story houses, separated by white picket fences, well-maintained front yards, and driveways big enough for at least two cars. Just perfect.

( too fucking perfect )

It isn't a neighborhood – or town – Steve ever expected himself to be living in, but he has to admit, after lowering his window just a little , that the air is crisp and clean, and it definitely smells better than the city. Living here might not be so bad, after all. It's the fact that he has to live here with Barnes.

Steve hasn't even parked the car yet or the guy's already taunting him, and if this is what it's going to be like for the next few weeks or months... God, Steve might just go mad. He's this close to grabbing the box that looks least heavy, just to push back a little, but eventually decides against it. Petty behavior like that will only give Barnes more ammunition and, as it is, the guy's enough of a little shit already.

On his way to the house, Steve sees one of the neighbors – a middle-aged woman who doesn't quite fit in the 'elderly' category yet – peeking out of the window, and he gives her a smile and a nod before he follows Barnes inside. "Here, you take this upstairs, sweetheart," Steve says as he thrusts the box at Barnes' chest. "Meet me outside in a minute or two. I'm gonna say hi to Ms. Thompson." He nods at the house next door. "She's the lady who makes her own garden gnomes and birdhouses. Can't miss it. Make sure to compliment her on that when you join us."