keepcruising | Undercover Fake Boyfriends (And Other Tropes We Love)

Entry tags:

Undercover Fake Boyfriends (And Other Tropes We Love)

Steve is so thankful to have Bucky back, even if Bucky doesn't remember a whole lot. The end of the line never meant until one of us forgets and Steve will stand by him through anything. Bucky is a good person, even if he's been taken advantage of and used by by bad people. Steve knows that in his heart because he know Bucky better than anyone. He only hopes that Bucky will remember that he knows Steve better than anyone, too.

Bucky had dragged him from the Potomac and that alone had given Steve hope enough to vouch for him. If the US government wanted Steve to work for them, they'd offer Bucky immunity from anything related to HYDRA's activities.

He's not sure what he'd expected Bucky to want to do with his new found freedom, but he's not unhappy to be working with Bucky. If anything, he wishes they were able to work more closely, because Steve worries sometimes that Bucky's being taken advantage of when he's not around. It's not that Bucky isn't a smart, capable person, but Steve knows he's missing a lot. That makes anyone easy to manipulate.

Eventually, his requests to be on more missions with Bucky are answered, but maybe not in the way he'd intended. He's just finished reading the briefing. It seems like they're going undercover together, which is already not Steve's best skill set, and they're supposed to be in a romantic relationship. Steve tries not to think about how much that stings. How could anyone know that it would?

Once he's read it through twice, he goes to Bucky's door in their shared apartment and knocks quietly in case Bucky's sleeping.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The scrutiny doesn’t escape him, and Bucky doesn’t try to escape it. Steve’s gaze isn’t uncomfortable. It never has been, and that does make him wonder. Oh, it lines up with what he’s been told about his relationship to Steve, with what he doesn’t remember. But something in him is just comfortable with Steve, and it goes beyond knowing the man has his back.

At least the flight goes well, no travel hang ups of any sort. Bucky smiles as he spots Steve, slipping into his cover personality as easily as he slips into his tactical gear. “Good flight.” Bucky slips into that hug, relaxed and easy as he presses lips to Steve’s cheek. “Glad to be home.”

From there it’s collecting baggage and making their way down to the car. Bucky slips into the passenger seat, closing the car door and dropping the ease of their cover personalities. “No last minute changes to our objective?”

For a moment, Steve can pretend that Bucky can relax. He lets himself have it as Bucky's lips touch his cheek and he wishes this really was Bucky here with him, affectionate and happy. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he lets himself remember that it's a lie.

He exchanges the right pleasantries, none of them lies, because even like this he really is happy to see Bucky. It probably shows, because they both know he's a lousy liar, even when he's being careful. Or maybe Bucky's just that good. He's not sure it matters all that much.

"Nothing yet." He pulls out of the parking spot and starts to drive them to their new home-away-from-home. "There's always time for changes that will be even more last minute, though."

He doesn't try to force conversation, even if the silence between them makes him uncomfortable. Forcing Bucky to do things for Steve's comfort seems like a violation and it's not one Steve's willing to push for.

Once he's pulled into the spot, he takes the keys from the ignition and gets out of the car with a little smile. Silently, he goes to the trunk to get Bucky's bag for him. It's what Steve would always do for a partner and if they're going to sell this, he hopes Bucky realizes that he'll have to do it somewhat honestly.

"I was thinking pizza for dinner."

They don’t need to linger long at the airport, just picking up Bucky’s bag and making their way to their car. Small talk takes the form of Bucky relaying a story from his trip home, the family he’s supposedly returning from visiting. The words roll easily off his lips and the narrative is natural, which will hopefully help make it easier for Steve to respond appropriately.

Bucky’s pretty sure that he can work within Steve’s skills and his natural tendencies to make this seem genuine.

“Mmm.” It’s a noncommittal noise, and Bucky turns his attention to the window while Steve drives. He’s never been to this particular city and while memorization of a map has given him the knowledge he needs for the everyday, a map doesn’t give him the feel of the place, of its people. There are details he can absorb in the drive, details he’ll relay to Steve later tonight.

And at least the drive is uneventful from a tactical standpoint as well.

Bucky just smiles when Steve gets his bag, stretching as he unfolds himself from the car’s seat. Steve’s genuine niceness really will help them sell that angle of their cover identities. “Sausage,” he answers automatically, slipping right next to Steve’s side so that they can fall into step together, Bucky’s arm slung around Steve’s waist. “The spicy kind, like from—”

He almost misses the next step, and for a moment his face reflects the mingled shock and frustration of something that’s there and gone again before he can catch it.

Steve doesn't mind the quiet with Bucky. He's getting used to it and it's not like silence always has to be filled, even if filling silence is something Bucky used to be an expert at. Steve tries not to Bucky see his expectations, even though he must fail often enough. It's not fair to put them all on Bucky when Steve's sticking by him really is unconditional. He never wants Bucky to think that he has to match Steve's memories to have his support.

It's easy, though, to smile at Bucky when he's acting like this or to lean into his touch. Steve can tell himself it's acting, but he knows it isn't. He's missed his best friend so damn much. It feels like he's always just out of reach and Steve would be lying if he said it didn't hurt sometimes.

Bucky falters, though, and it pulls Steve from his own thoughts. He drops the bag easily and then it's only a matter of him leaning forward to try to catch Bucky's eye.

"From what, Buck?" His voice is soft and gentle. He doesn't let himself hope it's some kind of memory. Bucky may never remember and Steve has to be okay with that.

There's something in Steve's attitude that makes this easy for Bucky. Or as easy as it can be at least, considering his head is still full of holes and it frustrates him on the regular. He hides as much of that frustration as he can though, partly because he doesn't want to worry Steve and partly because honestly, there's nothing at all that Steve could do about it anyway. But Steve being willing to his quiet episodes helps. Even the expectations he can see at times in Steve's eyes don't erase the ease of being around the man.

It's as easy as pulling him from that river: instinctual in a way for which Bucky can't quite discover the roots just yet. He knows they're there, he feels them, he can read all the history and literature about Captain America's friendship to one James Barnes, but nothing quite shapes itself fully into a defined form. It's like looking through uneven glass into a thunderstorm: everything washed over in grey and indistinct, but there. It's on him to discover his way through that storm.

Right now, he thinks that one of those storm figures is trying to solidify itself into something about spicy Italian sausage.

It's his name that pulls his attention, because it's his name and he knows it and remembers it and something tells him that Steve's always said it just like that but right here and right now it can't be his name, no matter how much he wants to chase this feeling. His hand raises, fingertips to Steve's lips to cut off anything else he might utter that could give them away. "Inside," he murmurs, keeping it quiet and soft, looking like just two lovers having a private conversation. His eyes ask Steve not to pursue it here, not until they're in their apartment, not until the door is closed and it's been double checked for bugs because Bucky still doesn't trust their employers, not fully. "Not here."

They take the stairs because they can and because they're less likely to encounter anyone on the stairs the way they would on the elevator. And it's not like they can't handle a few stairs; they're more than fit enough for it, even with Steve being the gentleman and carrying Bucky's bag. As they exit the stairwell Bucky launches right into the middle of a conversation — into the middle of a sentence in fact — inquiring about the new apartment and how the move went and how he can't wait to see what Steve picked out for this super comfy couch that he'd told Bucky all about in their phone conversations. It's all easy and calm, simple little small talk that should be simple enough for Steve to slip right into, conversation that means nothing and will give nothing away to any potential listening ears. He plans to do the same once the apartment door closes behind them, while they check for — and hopefully discover that there are no — bugs or other listening or recording devices.

That Steve almost forgets himself should make his priorities clear: Bucky comes first, before anything Steve is ordered to do or assigned to. He's not wired to do anything different. He doubts he ever will be. If he has to choose, Bucky will win every time.

He nods quickly and grabs Bucky's bag before ushering them both upstairs and following Bucky's lead in the meaningless conversation as they move through the hallway. Unlocking the door is simple and he holds it for Bucky, even though he very much doubts anyone is watching. Certainly, they aren't in person.

"Home sweet home." With the door shut, he puts Bucky's bag by the couch and grabs Bucky's wrist lightly and gives him a little tug. "Here, I want to show you the bathroom."

The smallest room, fastest to search for bugs and they can run the shower for cover sound. He might not be the best actor, but he's getting better at this stuff thanks to Natasha and Bucky and he doesn't trust the people above them much more than Bucky does. He knows they're watching Bucky like a hawk, leaving details out of his briefs and calling him on things that would be let go for anyone else. It's part of why he's thankful to be on this mission with Bucky. No one else will watch Bucky's back the way Steve will and he suspects it's quite mutual, even if Bucky can't really remember why. Steve still trusts him implicitly.

Once he's got Bucky in the bathroom, he shuts the door and goes right for the shower knob. The spray is loud enough that it sound muffle them from bugs that aren't in the room. They might come out of this with a file that says they're actually sleeping together, but Steve doesn't see how that would matter either way. It might even make it easier to talk without tampering with any bugs they find.

“Were you able to score those fixtures we were after? The brushed nickel?” Even as preoccupied as he is, Bucky has to admire Steve’s initiative in choosing the bathroom, in turning on the shower spray for cover noise. This kind of thing is what Steve has termed spy stuff and keeps insisting that he’s a lost cause, but he’s obviously picked up at least a little of what Bucky and Natasha have tried to impress upon him. And Bucky falls easily into hand signals once the bathroom door is shut, gesturing to Steve as he checks the perimeter and all of the bathroom furniture and fixtures for bugs; it means being close, because the bathroom is only so big, and neither of them are exactly small. The entire time he keeps up a running commentary over the space until he’s sure there are no recording devices present.

The act drops then, and he leans against the sink, arms crossed and a slight frown on his face. “Sausage,” he says simply. “I don’t know why, but there’s something about Italian sausage.”

He’s not sure if it’s a memory or just the impression of a memory. Or maybe it’s something else entirely. The unease likely shows in his face because usually when he gets these flashes, he’s able to slip away from Steve and into privacy. He doesn’t quite have that luxury here. It’s not necessarily bad – at least, he doesn’t think it is – but it’s different, and he’s not sure how to process it.

He’s also not sure how to process the fact that it doesn’t feel uncomfortable to reveal his struggle to Steve when by all means, it should.

“Ignore me,” he says finally, shaking his head. “I won’t compromise the mission.”

Steve makes quick but efficient work of sweeping the bathroom. Looking for bugs, at least, is something he's gotten better about. Being thorough and knowing what he's looking for are at least somewhat in his wheelhouse, unlike lying. He listens to Bucky, interjecting where appropriate until they're both sure they're clear to talk.

"That's not what I was worried about, Buck. You know me better than that." His voice is low, careful so that the spray can cover his words. This is between them. Their handlers don't need to know about whatever is going on with Bucky and Steve would prefer they didn't know anything that they could potentially use against him. His trust is a lot more limited than it used to be lately and some of them have every reason to target Bucky.

"We used to eat a lot of pizza when we could afford it, but I think I read somewhere that memories are closely linked to smell and taste. We should get a pizza and see if it jogs anything loose." A pause. "If that's what you want to do."

He takes a step closer in the tight space. "But don't worry about compromising the mission. I've got your back and you've got mine, right?"

What else could matter between them?

It's another way in which they work so naturally together, and one that hadn't taken long at all to fall into. Bucky could blame his own training: he's had to work with many different operatives under many different conditions over the decades; he was designed to be adaptable. But this seems to go a little beyond that. He hadn't had to concentrate so much on himself to match and complement Steve; it just happened. And it's happening right now with the way they move about the bathroom, effectively checking and rechecking without getting in each other's way.

The fingers of his left hand tap against the elbow of his right as he considers Steve's words. Does he know Steve? Yes and no and yes and he supposes this is the classic example of the it's complicated thing that Clint keeps trying to explain to him (and what is even the point of Facebook anyway?!?). Segment it then; subdivide it into manageable pieces and sort out what he can sort. They're on a mission, and while it's important, Steve has always been concerned about the well being and safety of his team above all else. It's why Bucky thinks he gets assigned to Steve; he doesn't have nearly as many hangups, and he will complete the objective.

He wonders, sometimes, which one of them is the better operative. He doesn't think it's himself.

He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. Steve's always offering him choices and he knows he should take it in the positive way that Steve intends, but sometimes it's hard. Sometimes he wants Steve to just make a definite decision, but he's rarely seen that outside of battle and it does make him wonder why. He doesn't ask though; it's something Bucky thinks he needs to puzzle out on his own. "I know. But we should try to at least get through the first day without compromising it, right?"

The first day and the easiest day; Bucky's still pretty sure that this mission is going to come with at least one unexpected thing — and knowing them, knowing SHIELD, it'll be something big. But that's okay; they've got a good measure of how well they work together and Bucky does trust Steve to have his back. That's another thing he's trying not to examine too closely, because it's uncomfortable to think about but just feels right.

"We should get two pizzas," he says finally, returning to that initial suggestion with a hint of a smile and a forced relaxation of his shoulders. "I've seen how you eat." It's an attempt at a joke; both of them have enhanced metabolisms.

"How I eat?" Steve laughs and shakes his head. There's a part of him that wants to reach out and hit Bucky's arm, but he's still wary of breaking that physical barrier when they aren't doing it for show. Bucky's been so skittish and reserved most of the time and Steve's instincts are fighting against what he's been told and what he knows is right: Until Bucky remembers more, Steve can't expect anything. All he can do is give and he'll do that part gladly. There's nothing he wouldn't give for Bucky.

"We'll get two pizzas and we'll do our best not to compromise anything until at least day three." The smile he gives Bucky is warm and affectionate. There isn't much he'll really have to fake to sell that he cares about Bucky, even if the romantic overtures are a lie.

A moment passes before he moves to turn off the water and leave the bathroom so that he can look up a local place and put in an order. At least they have an expense account for food and whatever else they'll need to pull this off and the apartment should have at least some of the equipment they'll need, but they'll want to sweep the rest of it before they talk much about anything real. He figures they can order pizza and then deal with that one room at a time.

"You want to take a look at the bedroom while I make this order? I'll be in there in a minute."

"Yeah. How you eat." It just slips out, the tease as natural as anything else, and Bucky looks surprised by it. He doesn't hide the surprise from Steve, nor does he hide the confusion it causes in him. It seems only fair; he can sense that Steve is vaguely uncomfortable with the shape of this mission and it seems only fair to share Bucky's own moments of struggle.

Because this back-and-forth teasing? It's easy, much easier than Bucky would have imagined. Maybe it's that they're technically on a mission and Bucky tends to do well when he has a clear directive. Maybe it's that they're a little further away from the ever present eyes of SHIELD. Maybe it's something else. But he returns that smile with an easy nod. "Oh, so day three? I'll put that in my calendar."

The more Steve teases, the easier it is to toss words back at him and Bucky tries not to spend too much time overthinking that. They work well together; they have to. And that also means that they can't spend the entire night in the bathroom. They still have to check the rest of the apartment, and actually order the pizza, and get themselves organized for tomorrow.

He nods to Steve's suggestion; if anyone's actually got the place bugged, they're surely giving off the impression of sleeping together, especially when Steve makes mention of the bedroom on the heels of being in the bathroom together. But it's a logical next place to sweep for bugs, and Bucky wants to get the sight lines out the windows besides. "Don't keep me waiting too long, you tease."

The bed is thankfully pretty generously sized, a good thing considering that neither of them is small. There is of course just the one, because they are posing as a couple, and Bucky has a moment of hoping that the nightmares won't be frequent here. He knows that Steve knows he gets them, but they've never talked about them and he's not ready for that to change. But he'll deal with that if it comes to it; for now, he focuses on methodically sweeping the room and its furnishings for recording devices.

When Steve comes back he'll cross the room to throw his arms around his so-called boyfriend with an excited exclamation of how perfect it is. With lips near his ear he murmurs just loudly enough for Steve to hear. "One in the lamp. Second above the door frame." The first will be easy enough to take care of with a faked stumble into the nightstand and an accidental breaking of said lamp, but the second one they'll have to get a little creative. And that's just so far; he hasn't checked the closet or the dressers.

Steve is being overly paranoid. At least, he feels like he is, but being around Natasha and Bucky has taught him that when he feels like he's being too paranoid, he's probably finally hitting their level of caution. Spycraft isn't exactly something he's particularly well-suited for or something he's really tried to be suited for, but much like fighting, he'll do it for a good cause. Right now, the cause is two-fold, because he's also watching Bucky's six and he likes it that way. He can't trust anyone else to do it the way he would.

He orders the pizzas for them and heads into the bedroom, his mind already sweeping over a million different things they'll have to take care of or pretend to take care of.

It's odd playing pretend with Bucky, because it feels too much like he's really here with Bucky and without all the baggage they both carry now. It's too easy to wrap his arms around Bucky's waist and hum in agreement to both how perfect the room is and where he bugs are.

He wants to ask if they're SHIELD or not. Who is watching them? It doesn't matter, though, because he can't ask safely yet. Instead, he turns his head to kiss Bucky's cheek, right next to his ear.

"Video?" He whispers under his breath, but he's pretty sure one must be.

"Lamp," he murmurs back, before pulling away from the embrace. His smile is wide and fake and he knows Steve will see that, but that's fine. They have bugs to disable, after all, and Bucky's trying to fool their watchers, not his partner. He laces their hands together and tugs at Steve, walking backwards toward the bed — and incidentally, taking a path that will have him bump directly into that nightstand and knock the lamp over. It's an excellent time for one of them to make a grab for it and to get that bug in its base.

"Okay, that one's my fault, the nightstand was on the other side in the old place." It's said with a laugh and a little bit more relaxing of Bucky's shoulders. They really do work well together, and getting the bug from over the door — and sweeping the rest of the room — won't be too hard at all, he thinks. He really can't wait to get a good look at the tech to see if anything about it is telling for who might have placed it there. It's no guarantee of course but the only one who Bucky trusts in this whole endeavor is Steve. That trust is real and complete and solid and it just feels right in a way he can't properly describe, but that doesn't matter. It's a strong feeling, and he's taking it as his directional compass.

As annoying as this mission might turn out to be, being out here in the field together and mostly on his own has Bucky relaxing a lot more than he thought he would. He's more comfortable like this, just the two of them, and it's something that Steve will probably be able to see.

Steve laughs and pushes into Bucky's space, which from what he can tell should take them out of the line of sight of the camera in the lamp that's now toppled on the ground. There can still be more cameras and Steve wants it to look natural, so he does the first thing he can think of and shrugs out of his button-up shirt, letting it fall over the base of lamp so that they can deal with it in their own time.

That leaves Steve in his jeans and a very tight undershirt. "I guess I can forgive you this time."

His eyes flick to the closet, obvious enough that he hopes Bucky gets the memo, because that's where he's tugging Bucky now and he doesn't stop until his back hits the wall right next to the closet door and he's pulling Bucky right up against him with a smile.

It's almost sad how much he doesn't have to fake the way he's looking at Bucky right now.

Bucky's actually pretty surprised at Steve's ingenuity. Getting them out of the camera's sight line is perfect — Bucky adds to the act with a delighted laugh at being all but pounced. The shirt is the perfect shroud for the lamp camera, and it'll be pretty easy for them to disable it later, he thinks. "Oh, I can think of a few ways I could make it up to you." If they're still being watched the wink that follows the statement should preserve the illusion that they're sleeping together; as it is, it's an answer to the movement of Steve's eyes. Horsing around the bedroom? It's an excellent way to explore.

And being pulled over to the closet? A good next step. He crowds right into Steve's space, lacing his left hand with Steve's right and pinning it above his head. At their height it doesn't take much movement at all for that artificial hand to flick to the side, crushing the listening device he'd spotted there. Two down. Good.

But he'd been so focused on getting that bug that turning his attention back to Steve and seeing that expression is like a kick in the gut. It's so earnest and open and Steve's not a good actor, not in things like this; the expression is genuine. It makes him freeze, pressed up close and only tangentially aware that he's staring.

"Steve...?" He has to lick his lips in order to wet them enough to speak. And it's probably pretty telling that the quiet murmur is Steve's real name, not his cover identity.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Undercover Fake Boyfriends (And Other Tropes We Love)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(late as balls. I hope this is okay)

(it is always okay ♥)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject