Lost + Found [Bucky Barnes] ✓

Chapter 39

"Sorry," Bucky whispers, his voice rough after we finally break apart.

My heart is slamming into my ribcage as my pulse continues to race, and I gulp in warm air as my body continues in overdrive. Unable to speak, I stand for a moment and savor the feeling of his arm wrapped tightly around my waist, his breath fanning my face, until Bucky begins to separate us.

"Wait," I croak, tugging his neck in an attempt to prevent him from moving.

Standing on tiptoe, I reach up and press my lips against his. Without the desperation of the first kiss, I notice how incredibly soft his skin is against mine. His mouth tastes sweet, no doubt a result of his love of a certain fruit, and I smile as he cups the back of my neck and pulls me in closer.

Ever-so-gently, he pulls away from me only to press a kiss against the corner of my lips. I can't help but smile, at which point he shifts to the opposite side of my mouth to plant another kiss there. Dragging my hands from the back of his neck to cup his face, he kisses my forehead before resting his against mine. Our eyes meet, and - for the first time since I've known him - James Buchanan Barnes is gazing back at me with a smile that would stun a blind man.

"I guess I should be sorry more often," he mutters cheekily.

I laugh, still breathless, and nod, "I certainly didn't mind it."

"No?" Bucky asks, tightening his grip on my waist. "That's good."

Clapping sounds behind us, and Bucky whirls around to face the intruder.

Or should I say, intruders.

Sam stands there, clapping slowly with a knowing smirk on his face, while Steve looks a bit sheepish. The super soldier's cheeks are tinged pink, and - while embarrassed that I was just caught making out with his best friend - I can't help but laugh at the sight. Bucky grins, his blue eyes dazzling, before running a hand through his hair.

"It's about damn time," Sam teases, earning a jab in the elbow from Steve. "What? It's true. I bet all this Winter Soldier shit was actually just Barnes really needing to get laid."

Steve and I groan in tandem, and I hide my face behind Bucky while he laughs.

"Can you not, Sam?" I reply.

He chuckles, "I'm just saying. Homeboy's been in and out of the ice for half a century, which is a really long time to..."

"Don't say it," Steve cuts him off, causing Bucky to laugh even harder.

I roll my eyes, "Let's just....get back to business, shall we?"

"Fine," Sam raises his hands in mock defeat. "Don't listen to me. You know I'm right."

Steve ignores him, "We didn't mean to interrupt --"

"You didn't," Sam mutters, earning a glare from Steve.

Bucky smiles at his best friend, "It's okay, Steve. We need to figure another way to reach Restitution anyway."

"Another way?" I ask, stepping out from behind him. "What about Stark?"

He sighs, "That's just...I don't think that's a good idea. The last time we saw each other, he wanted me dead, Chloe."

"Yeah, but he's had some time to cool down, hasn't he?" I argue. "Listen, I wouldn't say it if we had another option, but the fact is we don't. Restitution has my sister, Bucky. If Stark can help us get her back..."

Sam frowns, "Regardless of whether or not he can help us, we need to think about if he will help us. Last thing we need is to give him an opportunity to send us all back to prison. The United Nations already wants Barnes, dead or alive, and I don't think Tony really cares which."

"He wouldn't do that," Steve interjects. "Siberia was...an exception. Chloe's right, with her sister at risk, we need Tony's help. After what Restitution did to Pepper, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help take them down."

Bucky sighs, running a hand across the back of his neck, before dropping it in defeat. I can tell that he doesn't want to contact Stark - to restart whatever happened between them - but, at this point, I'm desperate. We don't even know if Artemis is still alive at this point, but we need to take this risk. We have to.

"Fine," he says softly, earning a look of surprise from both Steve and Sam. "We'll contact Stark."

I bite my lip, giving him a small smile, "Thank you."

Pulling on Bucky's right bicep, he turns to face me and I lean forward to kiss his cheek. He smiles, his blue eyes dark with worry, and I slip my hand into his. It fits perfectly, and my eyes land on where our fingers are intertwined. His tanned skin is several shades lighter than mine, his hands dwarfing mine, and that's when it hits me.

"Y-your hand," I mutter, my eyes growing wide.

His fingertips, which were blackened and gruesome from my touch, are completely unmarked. The injury I gave him less than ten minutes ago is gone, the mark from where our skin connected completely erased, and healthy new skin is in its place.

I glance up at his face, shock etched over my features, and watch him study the skin on his hand carefully. Our hands are still connected as he twists and turns them, straightening his fingers in my grip, to see that the rotten skin is completely gone.

His blue eyes meet mine, and - in that moment - the puckered pink gash decorating Bucky's eyebrow disappears. Completely healed, unmarked skin takes the place of the injury that had healed to a fresh scar over the past two weeks.

It's gone right before my very eyes.