Chapter Text
Chapter One
Tony was complaining – again – making Steve wonder if the man was actually as old as he said he was. When he'd first met the billionaire, he'd been impressed with how smart the man actually was. Tony was already the holder of several degrees (some honorary, and some not) and it was well known just how smart the man actually was. It wasn't a secret that after his father had passed, Tony himself had become the primary brains behind the operation of Stark Industries, even at such a young age. Steve had never dreamed to meet the genius, especially in University where he was taking the same class as Steve and his other friends. He'd thought it was even less likely that he'd get to know the man and actually be friends with him.
Despite the brief shock and starry-eyedness, Steve had found enjoyment in the other man's company when Tony wasn't being annoying. The rest of the group – which consisted of Natasha and Clint primarily – had taken to him quickly as well once they got past the arrogant wall that he put up so well for reporters and fans. So, when the billionaire had offered to share housing with them, they realistically hadn't hesitated.
Anything was better than the dorms on campus after all.
At first, there had been some question on their part as well as the school's as to why Tony had wanted housemates since he was more that capable of purchasing and sustaining a home without help, but everyone had accepted it as a quirk and just moved on after the first few days. Now, nearly a year and a half later, everyone living in the house had gathered together in the large plush living room they all shared, waiting on the newest member of the house to arrive. That was what Tony was grumbling about currently around his mug of coffee.
“They'd have been here by now if they'd just let me use my jet to fly them and sent Happy to pick them up.”
The newest housemate was an exchange student from Russia. At first the guy had been slated to get a dorm on campus, but when the Dean – also known as Nick Fury – had realized that the young man's skill at speaking English was rather poor, he'd gone to Tony and Natasha. Since Natasha spoke fluent Russian due to her background and unorthodox childhood, it had made sense to place the new student in the same living arrangements. Thankfully Tony had agreed, even if Fury was insisting on picking up the Russian himself.
Steve was brought out of his wandering thoughts by a sharp knock at the door. A quick look around showed that no one else was getting ready to jump up to answer it, so with a soft huff of irritation, Steve pushed himself up and off the couch to answer the door himself. As he passed by, Clint shot him an amused and knowingly smug look, letting Steve know that it had probably been a deliberate maneuver on Clint and Natasha's part.
The two students weren't exactly the most social of people, and were slow to trust. Steve couldn't remember a time when he hadn't seen them together, from when he'd first started going to the University and saw them across campus, to the point where he'd finally wormed his way into their circle of friends. It wasn't so surprising they wouldn't want to answer the door and be the first people to greet the new kid. Steve was also half convinced they had weapons stashed in the folds of the love seat they always shared. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to know for sure, but if they did then he supposed that it would make sense that they wouldn't want them to be far from hand when a new person entered what they considered to be their home.
Deciding easily not to let it bother him, Steve quickly walked across the room to the entryway and opened the white washed door with a practiced smile pasted onto his face.
As expected, Fury stood on the other side of the door, a youngish man standing next to him with a scowl on his face and hands shoved into his pockets. Dark hair hung around the guy's face, his brows drawn in together in obvious displeasure. For his part, Fury seemed oblivious to the young Russian's mood, instead nodding a quick greeting to Steve, his own scowl not slipping from his face. It looked to Steve like Fury was pretending that he'd been forced to pick up the displeased man instead of having insisted upon it himself. Or maybe he was just reacting to the man's displeasure with his own; Steve wasn't really sure and had stopped questioning the dark skinned man's motives quickly. He'd learned long ago that Fury would do whatever he wanted and act however he wanted with little regard to social mores or ideas.
“Rogers,” Fury motioned sharply at the man next to him. “This is James Barnes, your new housemate. I'll leave you to introduce him to everyone else in the house. I trust that they are all actually here like instructed?”
Steve wasn't really given an opportunity to respond to Fury, who had quickly moved on as if the answer was obvious and was walking away like Steve had already agreed to the not so subtle order. Turning his attention back to the Russian, Steve brightened his smile the best he could and gave a small awkward shrug. “Well...that's Fury for you, I guess. Lets get your things inside. Everyone is in the living room so we'll go introduce you to them first, then someone can show you to your room. Nat and Tony have classes shortly, but Clint and I can help you get settled if you need the extra hands.”
The blank look on the other man's face reminded Steve of the whole reason that he was moving in with them anyway. The language barrier.
Blushing in embarrassment, Steve motioned to the bags sitting on the ground next to the guy then slowly moved to grab a couple of them. Warily, he watched for any sign of objection. The dark haired man just continued to watch him with the same blank scowl as before, though, so with two bags in hand Steve quickly turned made his way into the house, listening faintly as Barnes grabbed the remaining bags and followed, kicking the door shut behind him.
Entering the living room again, Steve set the bags down against one wall and gave everyone a meaningful wide eyed look. “Guys, this is James. James, this is Tony, Natasha, and Clint.” He pointed to each person in the house, pronouncing their names clearly and carefully, but Steve was still thankful for when Natasha rolled her eyes at him and grabbed Barnes's attention.
“Steve was introducing everyone. I'm Natasha; I'll be translating for you and everyone else until it isn't necessary anymore. Tony is the idiot on the couch coveting the coffee. Clint is the guy next to him, he's not the brightest but he means good. You've obviously already met Steve, sorry about how awkward he is.”
Barnes seemed to relax slightly, hearing his mother tongue spoken flawlessly. Though he didn't stop scowling or glaring around the room, he inclined his head in thanks. “I will keep that in mind, though I do not mind Steve's awkwardness. He is cute, I think he'd be cuter with his legs wrapped around me...but he's cute either way. Also, I prefer to be called Bucky and all American drivers need to be shot in the head for driving so poorly and slowly.”
When Natasha didn't respond or translate immediately – instead choosing to stare blank faced at Bucky who simply stared back – Steve gave her a confused look and Tony immediately started complaining, though Clint looked interestingly amused as if he'd caught at least part of what had been said.
“What is he saying? You can't just leave us hanging, Nat!” Tony whined, finally setting his coffee down and trying to imitate Steve's wounded look. Steve privately thought that Tony pulled it off well for someone with a goatee and and streaks of machine grease on his face. Natasha obviously thought otherwise
Raising a brow, Natasha scoffed softly then shrugged. “He said nice to meet you and that he prefers to be called Bucky. He also had some interesting things to say about American drivers.”
Nodding quickly in agreement, Steve flashed Bucky another smile before motioning towards the bags again while darting another look over at Natasha to make sure that she'd translate again if needed. “Lets get your bags put away and then we'll see about getting something to eat. Airplane food is gross...”
Bucky didn't answer immediately, even after Natasha had translated Steve's awkward offer, but after a second he nodded and picked up the bag that he'd just set down. Taking that as permission, Steve grabbed the two that he'd had earlier and moved down the hallway, trusting that Bucky would actually follow him. He'd originally intended to shove the job off onto Clint, who was actually a people person even if he didn't trust easily, but he had a feeling that Clint's laid back attitude might grate on the serious looking Russian and he didn't want to risk upset within the house so soon after Bucky's arrival.
It didn't take long to make it down the hall to the previously empty room that had been set up for Buck's arrival. Tony had already placed a full sized bed in there, along with a dresser and a closet full of hangers. Upon Steve's suggestion, the billionaire had also gotten a plain looking desk delivered along with a desk lamp and a comfortable chair to sit in along with some shelves. Otherwise the room was still bare, though Bucky didn't seem to be bothered about that as she shouldered his way past Steve and glanced around the room. With an almost imperceptible shrug, he threw his bags onto the floor next to the bed with Steve following suit after a small cringe.
“So are you going to help me break this bed in? I bet you'd look beautiful spread out under me; bet you'd make the best noises.”
Steve blinked slowly in confusion, knowing that his face was flushed in embarrassment yet again for not knowing what Bucky was saying to him. What if Bucky needed something? Or was asking him a question about the room?
Biting his lip, Steve looked away to glance around the room to try and figure out if he was missing something. When he couldn't see anything out of place, he motioned awkwardly to across the hall where the door adjacent was standing ajar, showing the edge of the toilet and part of the bathroom counter. “Ah...there is the bathroom...I'll just...let you get settled. Um...I'll be in the kitchen...Clint can show you where it is if you can't find it.”
Beating a hasty retreat, Steve tried to beat his blush back into submission before he had to face any of the other people in the house. Thankfully, by the time that he reached the living room again, Natasha and Tony had already cleared out, obviously having left for their classes already. Clint was lounging sprawled across the couch watching TV as well so Steve was able to sneak past him into the kitchen to get started on something for dinner without being spotted. At least he hoped that was the case since Clint would be the worst to tease him, followed by Tony.
For a moment Steve stood there and contemplated what he should make. Tony was always whining about how Steve felt the need to cook at home so much, but Steve also knew that most of the time his friends were happy that he was willing to cook for everyone as eating out and getting food delivered got old quickly. After a moment of indecision, he decided on making homemade pizza. It was simple and basically everyone like it...plus it would reheat well for when Natasha and Tony made it back after their classes.
Pulling out the necessary ingredients, Steve made another decision. He wasn't about to let Natasha be the only connection Bucky had while in New York. While Bucky's English would probably improve quickly, Steve was also going to learn to speak Russian.