Chapter Text
Bucky dropped his weathered go bag near the battered front door of his apartment with a weary sigh, rolling the kinks out of his shoulders on his way to the kitchen.
Damn, it was good to be home.
This latest mission had been a long one. A whole six weeks. He was tired to the bone and was looking forward to ignoring any orders for a long ass time. Maybe he’d tell Sam he needed a healing period so it would be more official. It wouldn’t be far from the truth, just a little stretched seeing as he felt okay. He just needed a rest.
He flung open the fridge, knowing full well there wasn’t going to be much of anything after being gone so long. He was pleasantly surprised to find a couple of nice cold beers that hadn’t expired yet and popped one open. He took a swig, grunting happily as the crisp brew refreshed him. He couldn’t get even a slight buzz from just one, these days it took at least 34 for that (he’d tested it once), but it was still a comforting habit that made him feel slightly normal.
Bucky grabbed the other beer for good measure and sauntered towards the living room, flopping onto the worn floral couch. He shrugged off his jacket and kicked his shoes off his feet, not caring where they flew. As he finished his drink in silence, he took a moment to reacquaint himself with his little home.
Truthfully, it wasn’t an amazing place, but it was comfortable. It was a little hidey-hole of an apartment, one of only ten in this building. “Old fashioned” they called it. It reminded him a lot of his old place before the war, but nicer. One small bedroom, a bathroom with an old clawed tub/shower combo, tiny little square of a kitchen where he could touch both ends of the walls at the same time. And really, he didn’t need much. It was just him.
He did have a top of the line Stark security system as well as access to Friday, a condition that he had to agree to in order to be allowed to live out of the tower. While the thought that Stark could access feed into his place if he really wanted to made Bucky feel a bit uncomfortable sometimes, he was willing to put up with it to feel a little more free than he had locked up in the massive tower. Most Stark would ever see anyway was Bucky scratching his balls as he watched a game.
Bucky’s pants vibrated, so he pulled his phone out with a sigh. He quirked an eyebrow at the name and answered.
“Barton.”
“Hey, Buckbeak! Had a chance to make it home yet?”
“Yes...” Bucky reluctantly answered. He knew he didn’t like where this was heading.
“Great! Because now you have to head back to the tower. Hill’s here and wants your report ASAP.”
Bucky sighed. Of course she did. “And why are you the one telling me?”
“It’s like you don’t trust me, Barnes.”
“...”
“I’m hurt. The disrespect. Anyway, Cap asked me to relay the info because he’s the middle of a shouting match with Tony. He’s still pissed about Tony going off to do his own thing, and they’ve been yelling for a good hour now. My money’s on them finally fucking their problems away by the end of the week.”
“With the way Stevie was looking at Tin Man while we were on the way home, I’d give it until the end of the day. Ah, fuck. I was just getting relaxed. I’ll be there in a few.”
Bucky stands up with an annoyed groan, cradling the phone to his ear as he puts his jacket back on and looks around for where his shoes landed.
“You know, you wouldn’t have to keep going back and forth if you just stayed here. It’s pretty sweet. I get the whole freedom thing, but dude, I’ve seen your bank account after the Government gave you all that back pay and guilt money and you are not doing this right. You have some shitty box in Brooklyn for a home, drive a Chevy truck, and I’m pretty sure all your clothes come from goodwill.”
“You’re just used to living with Stark. I don’t see the need to live like that. I grew up during the Great Depression. I remember having to pack our shoes with cardboard and newspaper so we could wear them longer, or eating soup that was basically just hotdogs and potatoes for a week straight.”
“Bucky, I grew up in Farmville, and if I had half of that money, I would be living like a king. So what do you use it on then?”
“Dunno. Charities that are worth it. Homeless. Ballgame now and then. Shiny knives.”
Clint groaned, his frustration with Bucky so evident even by phone that Bucky cracked a small smile.
“You should at least get a better place. You’re living like you’re still in hiding. Get some fancy high rise and a sleek car, then you can get a nice sugar baby or a model girlfriend something.”
“Sugar baby, what the hell Barton.”
“Oh, a sugar baby is when a “dame” and a fella with money such as yourself...”
“I know what a sugar baby is, jackass. They had ‘em in my day too. There was even a Laurel and Hardy movie. I’m not the Sugar Daddy type. They like to live like Stark and have girls draped on ‘em that look like they live on bread and water, demanding to go places and buy them things no one needs. Not interested. I just want to live simply. I’m tired.”
“Aren’t we all. I’ve tried to retire at least four times now. You know, now that I think about it, maybe you should look more into it. You love giving your money away rather than using it on yourself anyway, like some sort of freak. Why not find some cutie that needs a little help, won’t mind if you’re away a lot, and maybe get your dick sucked for the first time in two hundred years. Might help you feel better.”
“Fuck you.”
“I already have a Sugar Mama, but thanks for the offer, Barnes. Hurry back.”
Bucky huffed and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He needed to remember to tell Nat that Clint was going around calling her his Sugar Mama. She’d get a thrill out of that and probably kick Barton’s ass, which would be worth watching after that conversation.
Sugar baby? Him? No one should have to be with him, not even for pay.
Bucky was starving.
He couldn’t even remember when he’d had more than a protein bar in the past couple of days and Hill had made him stick around the tower so long that he was now pretty sure his insides were trying to eat each other. He needed food stat.
Bucky checked his watch and was happy to see it was past midnight, which meant he should go to his favorite diner that was open 24 hours.
It was a pleasant little place. The owner Deirdre was a charming old lady that liked to fawn over him like he was her grandkid, never mind that he was technically old enough to be her dad. The prices weren't too astronomical (fuck inflation), the food was pretty damn good, and they didn’t bat an eye at the amount of it he ordered anymore.
And best of all...
“James!”
As Bucky swung open the door to the diner, she was right there waiting for him with a bright smile like she knew he was coming.
Y/N was the prettiest thing, damn near always the waitress when he shows up here in the middle of the night. A college student with two jobs to put herself through it; information he’d gathered over the past two years of spending slow nights chatting with her. She knew who he was, thanks to the news and constant paparazzi, but she never treated him like he was scary or different. She’d often show up with a piece of pie he hadn’t asked for, telling him about all the things that had happened since the last time she’d seen him, not offended in the least if all he did was grunt in between bites on the bad days. Probably helped that he always left her a $100 tip no matter if all he’d gotten that day was coffee.
“Heya, doll. It’s been a while. How’ve ya been?” Bucky grinned as a little blush grew on her cheeks. He always liked to thicken his accent a bit to see her cute reactions. It helped him feel a bit like the old him whenever it worked.
And thankfully, there was only one other customer in the place so far, meaning he’d get her all to himself.
“I’ve been good! Just survived midterms. You look tired as hell though. When’s the last time you ate?” She quirked an eyebrow as she led him to his favorite table, one that gave him a back against the wall and an eye on the whole place.
“Aw, sweetheart, don’t look at me like that. You know I get busy. That’s why I came to you. You gonna help a fella out?” Bucky smirked as she clucked around him, setting up his coffee and tableware.
“You know I don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself, James Barnes. Now I’m going to have to tell Deirdre, and you know she won’t be happy until you’ve eaten enough to feed a family of seven. Sit.”
Bucky did as he was told, sliding into the booth and began pouring his coffee and grabbing the little creamer cups.
“Anything specific today, or should we just let Deirdre have her way?” Y/N asked, propping her hip casually against his table.
“Tell that woman she should be in bed by now at her age, but if she insists, she can make me whatever she feels like.”
“‘That Woman’ can hear you just fine, Bucky Barnes. I may be old, but I’m younger than you, you rogue,” Deirdre yells from her spot in the kitchen.
Bucky chuckles and gestures Y/N towards the seat in front of him.
“Will ya sit, doll? It’s been a whole six weeks that I’ve been gone this time. How are things, really?”
Y/N sighs and sits across from him, propping her chin in her hands as she watches his stir the creamer into his coffee and takes a sip.
“It’s been...well. You know how life can sometimes be. Turns out my roommate's dad got into an accident, so she’s dropping out of school and going home to help out. She’s got two brothers that are still really young and her dad’s a single parent. It’s really sad. Other than that, it’s been the same old. Midterms were a drag, but everything else is okay.”
“Damn, doll, that’s harsh. That rent was already hard enough for the two of you, wasn’t it?” Bucky frowns, thinking back to the bits and pieces she’d told him about the place.
“Yeah, but that’s to be expected, nothing’s cheap around here. I feel horrible for her, and I understand, but this really screws me over too! I’m going to have to try to find a new roommate midsemester and as soon as possible or I’m in trouble.”
Bucky hummed, trying to think of how to help her. She was one of the nicest people he’d ever met and didn’t deserve to be going through any troubles. He would just hand her the cash to help her out, but he knew she’d turn it down.
Suddenly a voice that sounded suspiciously like Clint Barton whispered in his mind that he knew exactly what to do.
He couldn’t ask that of her. She was pretty, gorgeous actually, but she was too innocent for the likes of him. He could always just anonymously pay her rent with the landlord. She’d probably figure out it was him, but by then it would be too late to stop him.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t shake the other idea now that it had made itself known.
He covertly checked her out, licking his lips as he imagined how she must look out of her waitress uniform. He imagined her hair flowing freely across a pillow, her body on display under him, her lips kiss bruised. He’d never allowed himself to think of her this way before, and now that he had, he couldn’t seem to stop. He tried to adjust the growing bulge to not be so obvious and cleared his throat.
“I may...have a solution,” he told her, his voice low and husky as he tried to collect his thoughts out of the gutter.
“Oh? Do you know of a cheap place?”
So innocent. Fuck, could he really ask her this?
“Um, that’s...no. I...look. I’m sure you’re aware by now that I have money. More money than I’ve ever imagined having and I don’t know what to do with it half the time. I give most of it away to charities, and you know, people struggling. I would just hand you all the money you need, but I know you’ll fight me. You fight me enough about your tips.”
“Of course I do. I don’t care how much you have, you don’t tip someone $100 for a cup of coffee. That’s nuts,” she playfully glared at him, and he huffed.
“Exactly my point, doll. I have the money and I’d like to help you, but I know you won’t take it for nothing. So, I have a proposal.”
“Okay. What kind? Like a job? I don’t know if I have the time for another one, I’m already stretched pretty thin, James.”
He nodded. “I know. What I’m proposing is to help out financially so that you’d be able to drop both jobs if you wanted to and just focus on school. And well, we get along great. Honestly, you’re the only person I bother really talking to outside of the Avengers. So, I would just be paying you for...your time?”
“My time. I don’t understand.”
“Like, companionship?”
Her face cleared of all confusion almost instantly. Instead, an adorable little crooked smirk made its appearance.
“Are you asking me to be your Sugar Baby?”
Bucky closed his eyes and breathed deeply, a slight blush forming. God, his Ma was probably up there fuming, wishing she could tan his hide for asking this of a lady.
“I mean, I don’t expect anything. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We could just hang out like now, only you’d be letting me take care of a few bills in exchange. It’s not a bad deal, doll. I’m worried about how far you're stretching yourself. You got on my case, but your eye bags are darker than my soul.”
“Ouch,” she giggled, before thoughtfully observing his face. He could practically feel her as she studied him, her gaze finally zeroing in on his lips.
“And if I said I was okay with the other stuff too?” Her voice was quiet, quieter than he’d ever heard her, with a husky quality that sounded like her mind might have gone where his had been not that long ago. He could only be so lucky.
“I...fuck...that would be fine too. I’m not going to pressure you into anything, sweetheart. I just...you’re a swell dame, and I want you to be happy.”
Y/N shook her head, her eyes shining with amusement as she smiled at him fondly.
“You realize that’s the opposite of what most Sugar Daddies are worried about, right? It’s supposed to be about their own needs being met, and the companions just benefit from meeting them.”
Bucky grunted, waving his hand indifferently.
“You know I’m fine, doll. Don’t need much at all. Don’t deserve most of what I got as it is. But I can’t just stand by while good folk like you aren’t doing so well if I can do something about it.”
Y/N chewed her lip thoughtfully, her eyes slightly glazed over as she was obviously thinking about it. That’s more than he thought he’d get. Frankly, he felt lucky she hadn’t poured hot coffee on him and ordered him to stay the fuck away.
Finally, she met his eyes, her gaze soft and filled with something that sent electricity through his body.
“James Barnes, you just got yourself a Sugar Baby.”