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marveldeliversusps · 4 years

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Prompt: New Hobby

Thanks for the prompt and political advocacy, @queenoftherandomword! Hope you like it!

Prompt: Looks like somone has a new hobby

Pairing: Stucky, shrunkyclunks, background Sam/Nat

Rating: M

Art by @inflomora-art. I’m obsessed with this pic.

Steve heard a knock and rushed to the door. It was around three PM and his postal worker, Bucky, would be dropping off the mail soon. On days when he wasn’t too busy, Bucky would stick around and chat with Steve for a few minutes. Those were the best days.

Mailman Bucky was beyond hot. He had a cleft chin with a bit of softness under it, wrinkles from smiling and sparkling grey eyes. He was so beautiful he even made the dumb postal worker hat look good.

When Steve pulled the door open, he found Natasha standing there expectantly. He tried to close the door but she put her foot inside the house. He set his shoulder against the door so she could push her way in.

“Nice to see you, Steve.”

Steve took a steadying breath in. He loved Natasha and looked forward to being around her. Since he’d retired from the superhero business and given the shield to Sam, time with Nat had been in short supply. However, she was perceptive and insatiably curious. If she was around when Bucky arrived, she’d sniff out Steve’s secret crush right away. Or find the numerous unopened boxes in his bedroom that he didn’t want to explain.

“Natasha,” he said.

“That’s all?”

Steve held tight onto the door. A moment of confusion or indecision would be just enough for her to elbow her way inside. This is why he needed more non-spy friends.

“Nice to see you, as always.”

Natasha rolled her eyes so dramatically her eyelashes fluttered. “What you mean to say is I’m sorry that I stood you and Sam up for our lunch date at Hot Lips pizza today, and that you two had to wait for forty-five minutes, and I can’t believe I didn’t respond to your text messages.”

Steve closed his eyes in embarrassment. “I totally forgot. I’m sorry, Nat.”

“It’s alright, Steve,” Natasha said, brushing non-existent lint from Steve’s shoulder. “I know you have other commitments. Maybe we could hang out now?”

Steve did want to spend time with her, just not for another hour when there was no risk of her meeting Bucky. Since getting together, Sam and Natasha were both happier, more fluid and less locked into decades-long patterns, but it certainly made Steve’s life more difficult. Their attempts at teasing him or caretaking were coordinated and ruthless. Loving, but ruthless.

“Now’s not a good time,” Steve said. “How about Friday you and Sam come over for a movie night?”

Natasha smiled sweetly, all her deadly angles covered by softness. She squeezed Steve’s hand gently, then dug her fingers into his wrist, making him yelp and stumble backward. As soon as Steve faltered, she charged inside and started looking around the living room. When Steve subtly positioned himself between her and the stairs to his bedroom, Natasha clocked his actions immediately. She slipped past his outstretched hands and hustled upstairs.

“Goddammit, Nat!”

Once she entered Steve’s bedroom, Natasha stopped abruptly and looked at all the unopened boxes lining the walls. “Huh.”

Steve nearly slammed into her back in his rush to beat her to the bedroom and had to grab onto the doorframe to stop himself. Natasha tilted her head to the side as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.

“What were you expecting?” Steve said.

Natasha’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know. A hot man or woman. A sex dungeon. Porn. Not a million boxes from…” she picked one up and squinted at it. “REI? What the hell, Steve?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth, not quite ready to tell the truth. The first package had been an actual order, a new pair of running shoes from an outdoor store he discovered. But then when Bucky had delivered them, REI (Recreation Equipment Inc) was apparently his favorite store, and it had given them something to chat about.

Steve had taken to buying gear from there once a week and planned his schedule to be home with the packages arrived, just so he could talk with Bucky. He’d even been working up the courage to suggest a hike together.

“I checked all the rooms downstairs,” Sam said out of nowhere.

Steve’s shoulders slumped. Of course, Sam and Natasha would be working together. They never went on ops alone anymore. Not since she was captured by AIM, and Sam leveled three blocks of downtown Mobile, Alabama to save her.

Steve should have never suggested Nat ask Sam out. Or introduced them. Or joined the Avengers.

“Nice to see you,” Steve quipped.

Sam winked at him, the cheeky asshole. He knew Steve couldn’t stay mad at him long. “Not my fault,” Sam said, as he walked into the room. “You ditched us. And if you had just told Tasha what you were hiding--”

“I can have secrets,” Steve said petulantly.

Meanwhile, Natasha was walking around the room and shaking boxes. They all had the REI logo on the side: Sustainable Gear Built to Last. She retrieved a knife from her boot, ripped open a box and pulled out a 9.8mm Dry-Core climbing rope. It was bright yellow with red x’s on it, and Steve had picked it because he liked the design. “Is this for an outside sex dungeon?”

“Stop thinking everything is about sex!” Steve snapped. Sam raised an eyebrow at him, and Steve immediately felt bad. Before he could apologize to Natasha, she waived him off. Sam sat down on Steve’s bed and pulled out his own knife. He never used to have a million knives on him, probably Natasha’s influence.

“Do people know Captain America sneaks into people’s houses with knives?” Steve said.

Sam shrugged and carefully opened a package. “People don’t know a damn thing about me I don’t want them to know, because my girlfriend is a badass.”

A paranoid badass, Steve thought. But he had the self-preservation to keep that to himself.

Sam pulled out a Lavender Harness with yellow daisies stitched to the side. “Petzl Luna Harness,” he read off the side. “Steve, this is a woman’s harness.”

Steve crossed his arms, because he had aced his Women’s Studies class, thank you very much. “All the harnesses for women were pink and had flowers on them, and I thought that was very gender essentialist of them, so I bought it for myself in protest.”

“I’m sure they heard you loud and clear,” Sam said dryly.

They slowly unpacked all of Steve’s packages: another harness, two more ropes, a crash pad, carabiners, and several metal things Steve didn’t know the name of. After each item, Natasha looked at Steve expectantly, and he steadily denied that it was for a sex dungeon.

Next came a Marmot 1 person tent, that Steve would have to curl up in sideways to fit, a backpack, and a head lamp. He had more things he needed, but he wanted to spread the orders out.

“Why didn’t you open any of this stuff?” Sam said.

Exhausted with their questions, Steve flopped dramatically onto the floor, and he didn’t need to look up to know Sam and Natasha were doing synchronized eye rolls. “I don’t know how to use it yet!” Most of it he’d selected because he liked the colors or the philosophy of the companies. He had no idea if all the gear even all worked together. “It’s outdoor gear because my mailman likes to rock climb, and he’s hot, and I want to climb him like a tree.”

Natasha grinned triumphantly, and proclaimed, “So this is about sex!”

Steve didn’t respond, just slowly banged his head on the floor. Maybe if he blacked out they would leave him alone.

“Well, well,” Sam said.

“Don’t do that,” Steve snapped.

“Looks like someone has a new hobby.”

Natasha leaned against Sam and giggled. It was so damn cute that Steve couldn’t decide if he wanted to wrap them in Christmas paper or throw them outside.

He almost missed the knock at the door.

“Steve,” Bucky called in. “Your door was left open. Just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

Steve shot an annoyed look at Sam who grinned unrepentantly. “Barton’s watching the entrance.” Steve should've guessed that, too. He half expected them to turn into a throuple any day now.

Natasha ignored them again, moving lightning fast to charge downstairs.

“Steve,” Bucky called again. “Hi,” he said, presumably when he saw Natasha. “Just checking in. I have a package for Steve.”

“I’m sure you do,” Natasha said meaningfully as she took the box from Bucky.

Steve made a racket in his haste to prevent Natasha from saying anything more embarrassing and landed at the door framing breathing heavily with a wild look in his eyes. Natasha, naturally, looked calm and composed.

“You must be Bucky,” Natasha said, extending her dainty hand. “Steve can’t stop talking about you.”

Steve’s cheeks immediately flamed hot, and the only saving grace was that Bucky’s cheeks pinked up adorably, too.

“Oh.” Bucky didn't elaborate further even though Steve really, really wanted him to. Was that a good oh or a bad oh? An oh or an /oh/?

Before Steve could follow up, Sam came up behind him and clapped an arm on his shoulder.

“Captain America!” Bucky exclaimed when he saw Sam. Oh no, no no no no, Steve thought. “You’re my hero! I mean, I’m an adult so not like hero hero, but it’s. Whew. It’s an honor.”

Sam grinned that warm, gap toothed smile that made old ladies weak in the knees, and he shook Bucky’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Did you serve?”

Bucky nodded, shrugging his shoulders shyly. “Yeah, two tours and all that, and you know, the post office is the number one employer of vets, so I’m here doing this. Helps to have the arm.” He pointed at his black and gold prosthetic. Thanks for promoting that program by the way.”

Steve didn’t pout, but his inner toddler was stamping his foot. He only got a few minutes to talk to Bucky each week, and Sam was hogging all his time.

Natasha had magicked some popcorn out of nowhere, there hadn’t been any in Steve’s cupboard, and was obnoxiously monching it and watching the three of them. Knowing her, she’d probably known all of this was going to happen and brought the popcorn along as a prop.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Bucky said to Sam, “but could I get a picture?”

Sam nodded, turning to Steve with a shit eating grin. “Steve, would you mind taking a pic of us?”

Steve took Bucky’s camera. He stepped on Sam’s foot while he arranged them for the photo, because he had called dibs on Bucky, and Sam already had Natasha. “You know . . . I’ve been retired for a while.” Because if Sam could play the Captain America card, so could he. Bucky had never brought it up, so perhaps he hadn’t recognized him.

Bucky smiled softly. “I know, Steve.”

Oh, well. That was a different thing entirely. Bucky had known who Steve was all along and had never made him feel uncomfortable about it. Steve smiled back at him and took the picture.

Once they were done, Natasha leaned toward Bucky. “Tell me, Bucky, how long have you and Steve been getting to know one another.”

Steve was 100% sure that was her code for sex dungeon activities, which, what in the hell did she and Sam get up to in their free time? Nevermind, he didn’t want to know.

They didn’t call Steve the greatest strategist of his time for nothing. He subtly scooted over, forcing Natasha to lean back.

“We’ve only recently become friends,” Steve said. The blood rushed to his cheeks again when he realized what he’d said. Bucky probably had to be friendly with everyone while he was working, that didn’t mean he and Steve were friends. “I mean, I think we are.”

The sides of Bucky’s eyes crinkled adorably as he grinned. “Yeah, we’re friends, Steve.” He paused and glanced at Sam and Natasha before settling back on Steve. “Actually,” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, making his terrible round hat fall forward. He righted it quickly and said, “I was wondering if you’d like to go climbing this Saturday. I could show you the cool spots with not too many people, and--”

“Steve doesn’t know how to climb,” Natasha said around another mouthful of popcorn. “You should take me and Sam along to teach him. And Clint, too. Maybe Tony would want to come.”

By the grace of all that was good and holy, Sam had mercy and pulled Natasha away from the door whispering, “Stop cockblocking my best friend.”

Once Nat and Sam were out of earshot, Steve met Bucky’s eyes and grimaced. “I was looking for new hobbies, and when I ordered shoes you brought up climbing, and like an idiot I said I liked it too. because you are so handsome, and my brain turned into mush, and then I just didn’t want to stop talking to you.”

“I know,” Bucky said interrupting Steve’s rambling. His eyes sparkled as he grinned. “You once called a grigri a carabiner.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Exactly.” Bucky stepped closer, his expression turning mischievous. Steve could never, ever let him and Natasha become friends. “Wanna go on a date with me?” He was so close now, Steve could pick out the flecks of silver and black in his grey eyes.

Steve got lost staring until he realized Bucky had been waiting too long for a response. He didn’t seem to mind, his smile only getting wider.

“I really do want to learn to rock climb,” Steve blurted out to stop himself from saying something ridiculous like, please fuck me in your uniform.

Bucky tilted his chin back and laughed, mesmerizing Steve with the movement of his throat.

“How about we do both?” Bucky said, laughter dying down as he scooted closer.

Steve leaned down and said, “I’d like that,” against Bucky’s lips, the moment before they kissed. Distantly, he heard the sounds of Natasha and Sam cheering, but he blocked them out in favor of gripping Bucky’s hip and pulling their bodies flush against one another.

“The man has to work,” Sam called out. “Don’t get freaky and delay the mail.”

Bucky pulled back and patted Steve’s shoulder. “See you soon, Stevie.”

After he left, Steve collapsed on the couch next to Sam, heady with the experience, until a sudden realization left him cold.

“I forgot to get his number.”

Sam waved him off, and pointed at the kitchen where Nat was rifling through Steve’s cabinets. “Don’t worry. Tasha has it already.”

Steve groaned. Of course she did. And if by some chance she didn’t, Steve could always order another box from REI.

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Learn more about Marvel Delivers USPS here!

#Marvel Delivers USPS #shrunkyclunks #fanart #ficlet #Stucky #bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers

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marveldeliversusps · 4 years

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Postal Worker Bucky

Here’s an example of a ficlet for the Marvel Delivers USPS event.

Prompt: Clint's dog Lucky gets all of postal worker Bucky's attention, and Clint gets none. Something has to change.

“Who’s a good boy? Are you a good boy?”

The door to Clint’s house is closed, but he can hear the thump of Lucky’s delighted tail wagging and his happy little woof when Bucky scratches him just right.

Lucky, a one-eyed, three legged mutt and ball of sunshine, had been inside with Clint most of the day, but he nosed at the door at three thirty, like he somehow could tell time and knew when the mail was coming. Maybe he could. Clint had let him out in the front yard, so Lucky could wait for his second favorite person: Bucky, their postal worker.

Clint doesn’t open the door right away, doing so seems to spook Bucky and that seriously cuts into Clint’s pining and spying time. Bucky is the hottest postal worker Clint has ever seen. His shirt stretches against his broad chest, that top button doing its damnedest to stay in place and not fly off into oblivion.

Not that Clint would mind. Nope. He’d probably cheer. He’s been watching Bucky for five months, ever since Bucky took over for Edward, who was nice but never made time to talk. Bucky’s not like that. He chats with everyone and calls all Clint’s neighbors by their names. As many of them are older adults, sometimes Bucky is the only person they talk to on a given day. Clint tries to be social and keep them company, but he’s often busy with the Avengers.

The little old ladies on the street swoon when Bucky smiles at them, even when he wears that dorky hat. Somehow he makes it work. And Clint’s a bit worried Mrs. Francois will have a heart attack the next time Bucky winks at her.

Clint probably would, too, that is, if Bucky ever gave him any attention. Whenever Clint’s around, Bucky somehow seems to be super busy and in a rush to deliver the rest of his mail.

Bucky slides the mail into the slot on Clint’s front door. It’s mostly archery magazines. Clint knows more than all the writers, and his gear is fancier than anything featured on the glossy pages, but it’s still fun to look at bows and arrows.

Clint can’t wait anymore, he opens the door trying for a ‘I haven’t been sitting inside the apartment thinking about you’ casual pose.

“Hiya, Bucky,” he says, his voice squeaking a little. Because apparently he is no longer a full grown man; he’s a wobbly voiced teenager. He can’t blame himself. Bucky is sex on legs, and Clint has seriously considered setting a fire just to get him to take his shirt off.

Bucky turns around and saying warmly, “Hi, Mr. Barton.”

“It’s Clint,” he says. He’s told Bucky this every time they’ve talked. “You know don’t have to be fancy with me.”

Bucky smiles, cheeks pinking up. It makes Clint think there’s something there between the two of them.

“I should...” Bucky points his thumb behind him. “Go. Deliver things. Mail, you know?”

Lucky is still clinging to Bucky’s side, likely ready to hop in the mail truck and tour the neighborhood. And something about the gentle way Bucky’s fingers massage the downy fur behind Lucky’s ears, opens Clint’s heart right up and makes him feel brave.

“You should stop by later.”

“Oh, did you need something sent out?” Bucky says. He glances at his watch and pulls out a notepad from his bag. “I can, I mean, I’m not supposed to, but I can stop by later to pick it up.”

Mrs. Gonzalez and Mrs. Ross have both come out onto their porch to gawk at Bucky and Clint talking. They are widows turned lovers who love to gossip and haven’t been subtle in their attempts to get Clint and Bucky together. Bucky hasn’t said anything before, so maybe Clint’s been reading this all wrong.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Clint says, feeling unsure. Is it creepy to ask out your postal worker? Shit. “I was more trying to ask you out.”

Mrs. Ross must have turned her hearing aids up all the way so she could listen in, because she whispers something to Mrs. Gonzalez, and they laugh.

“I should tell you,” Bucky says, glancing at Clint’s neighbors and smiling weakly. “You seem nice, and I like your dog, but--”

Oh no. No no no no. Clint had read this all wrong. This was like hitting on baristas or nurses or anybody else who has to be nice at work, and now he’s the jerk that made the mailman hate his job. Clint could move? But then who would eat the leftover empanadas Mrs. Gonzalez makes? Who would mow Mrs. Francois’ lawn when the city complains her grass is too tall?

“Whoa there, buddy,” Bucky says, suddenly very close. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Clint plonks down on his steps and gives Bucky a weak thumbs up. Lucky finally remembers where his loyalties are and nuzzles his head in Clint’s lap. “I’m fine, just a long day yesterday.” It’s not a complete lie, he did end up on the losing end of a knife fight during a mission the day before, and Nat had saved him at the last minute. But Clint doesn’t want to tell Bucky that or that his anxiety sometimes gets the better of him.

Bucky sits quietly beside him, no doubt falling behind in his schedule. “I’m sorry, Clint. I would like to go out with you, but I’m vegan. And it’s not like I hate hunters, I get that it can be a sustainable way to get meat, but I don’t think I could be romantically involved with someone who kills animals.”

“Huh?” Clint eats meat, but he doesn’t hunt. Well, he hunts bad guys. Best not to say that part, he tells himself, because then he’ll sound super creepy.

“Your magazines…”

Clint laughs. The archery magazines do feature a lot of hunting content, something Clint had largely ignored. “No, I don’t hunt. Just into shiny bows and stuff. I’m an archer.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, ducking his head. “Guess I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Clint waves a hand at him. “No, I get it. And I don’t usually faint when someone turns me down, I just lost a lot of blood last night, and--”

Bucky’s eyes widen, and Clint abruptly stops talking. Shit. How had Clint managed to make things even worse? Bucky doesn’t think he’s a hunter anymore, now he thinks Clint is a serial killer.

“With the Avengers!” Clint says, too loud. He lowers his voice to a whisper, pretending everyone on his street doesn’t know. “I’m mostly retired, but I help the Avengers sometimes.”

Bucky squints at Clint like he’s trying to decide whether he is lying. “Hawkeye!” he exclaims finally. “That’s right. With the muscles.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Clint says. “No killing animals, just sometimes bad guys, but only if they are really bad, like end the world type of bad.”

Bucky appears to mull this over until he looks at his watch with a start. “Shit. I’m behind.” He stands up and wipes the dust off his perfectly round ass. Clint tries not to notice. This isn’t his most mortifying attempt at asking someone out, but it’s close to the top.

“I’ll be back at six,” Bucky says. “Maybe a few minutes after, because I’m running late.”

“What?”

“Did you still want to go on a date?”

Clint nods, mouth slack and open. There is no way he bungled things up this badly, and he’s still getting a date out of it.

“Okay,” Bucky says, turning with a shy little wave. “See you then.”

Clint’s brain catches up with what’s happened and waves back. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Mrs. Ross and Mrs. Gonzalez give each other a high five.

*bonus points to anyone who caught The Good Place reference*

#Marvel delivers USPS #savethepostoffice

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