Work Text:
“Come on, James! You get a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” Natasha pecks him on the cheek and hugs him from behind. He has been situated in the chair at his kitchen table for more than twenty minutes now looking over these ridiculous books that SHIELD has sent over.
Bucky’s scowl deepens. Frankly, he can't tell if she's sincere or making fun of him. He pushes the book of fabric swatches away in disgust. He gruffly asks, “How, exactly, is this related to my duties?”
Steve Rogers retires and the world says there needs to be a new Captain America. Bucky would have told everyone in the world to screw off, but Steve asked him to do it: save the world, wield the shield, wear the red, white, and blue… the whole gig. Natasha has spent almost every moment since reassuring him that he will do a great job.
She picks up the discarded book and flips through it for herself. She shrugs and answers, “It isn't part of your duties.” She pauses to lean closer to the light, examining one of the colors more closely, before continuing, “I'm just saying that not everyone gets the opportunity to pick their uniform. I think Steve had five or six before he asked for input. This is your first one!” Another closer look before flipping it towards him, “How about this one?”
She is terrible at hiding her enthusiasm about this. It's Cerulean Blue or French Blue or some other color that is so not his style… but she knows what Captain America is supposed to look like. Maybe he should just let her pick for him.
He leans back in his chair and chuckles. He waits until they make eye contact before saying, “I don't know why you're so on board with this. Everyone - including me - has some serious doubts about this entire situation.”
Something in his tone must have resonated with her. She gives him one of those genuine, heartfelt smiles, puts the book down, and pushes him back further. She straddles his lap, sits down, and pulls him into a slow, sweet kiss. Now this is definitely something he can get on board with. He tries to deepen their kiss and has his signature moves to get her going: fingers digging into the meaty part of her butt and lifting up, attempting to push her onto the table, sprawl her out, all while sucking on her lower lip, wordlessly asking to let his tongue in. He gives a disappointed moan when that request is denied. She pushes him back in the chair and reluctantly pulls away.
She makes no attempt to get off his lap, which he is perfectly fine with. Instead she's flushed and looking like she is on board with where he was going. She reaches behind herself and grabs that awful book again. This time she holds it against the side of his face. She muses to herself more than him, “I don't know. This color would look good on you. I don't think I have seen you in a blue lighter than navy…”
Bucky deadpans, “I like dark colors.”
She smirks at him. That goddamn ‘mission complete: I got what I was after’ smirk. She pecks him on the lips again as a consolation. “See? That wasn't so hard.” He tries to distract her with another kiss and is thwarted as she dodges his lips and shoves the book against his face again. “So navy or darker. Got it.” She flips several pages, “Now what about the reds? Do you want red in it at all?”
He loudly groans and slumps with his arms flopped down at his sides and his head resting against her chest. She takes the opportunity to run her fingers through the back of his hair, scratching lightly against his scalp in the way that he likes but never asks for. He relaxes and huffs into her chest, “I'm not getting out of this, am I?”
She laughs and he enjoys the feeling of it against his skin. She pulls his head back with a light tug on his hair. “Nope,” is all she has to say before swooping in for another kiss.
Fine. He won't get out of this stupid tasking. However, if Natasha's assignment is to get him to finish it then he's damn sure going to drag every perk out of getting the job done.
