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shurisneakers · 5 years

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espresso [10]

Summary: In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.

Warning: mentions of past cheating, angst, alcohol

A/N: im back after 2 months lol hello to the 4 people who still read this this is my entry for @viktordrago‘s writing challenge. everyone say thanks to @samingtonwilson for putting up with me and being the best

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous part- Part 9 || Espresso Masterlist

The world around you was dark when you stepped outside, shutting the door of your house behind you and pulling your jacket tight across your body in hopes of evading the chilling wind nipping at your cheeks.

It was the night before Christmas Eve– or as Bucky so poetically named it: “Christmas Eve-Eve” – and you couldn’t help but be disappointed at the thought of your upcoming night. You dreaded having to spend time with someone who would inevitably serve as a way to pass time and nothing more. You almost felt bad that they were trying their hand at someone who was so out of the game before it had even begun– but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel sympathetic.

Bucky had chosen the most popular bar in your town as the venue– a bar which checked ID’s as a mere formality, a bored security employee glancing at the birthdate and shrugging to let in most people who simply “looked old enough.”

With scuffed wooden stables and pictures of frequent patrons, nearby teams, or people they were proud to have once served, the bar was never truly empty, it always had at least one or two groups drinking until they blacked out. And like always, the bar was filled with the warm sounds of people laughing, glasses clinking together in celebration and drunken karaoke with no musical accompaniment.

Your eyes quickly scanned the crowd, looking for someone who was possibly dressed for a date. And you found none.

Sighing, you quickly shot off a text to Bucky about the whereabouts of your supposed company for the night, Scott, shuffling from the doorway when the bell above the door jingled upon its opening.

Receiving an ineffective “He isn’t there yet?” in response, you sighed once more and stuffed your phone into your pocket, deciding that a stool at the bar counter was your best bet. After all, if your date wasn’t going to show up, then at least you could drown yourself with enough alcohol to have a good time alone.

“Y/N?”

If you hadn’t committed that voice to memory for reasons you refused to acknowledge, you would have believed you were hallucinating.

Your jaw clenched, then relaxed. Fuckin’ Dolores. “Dot? What are you doing here?”

“Hey! What a coincidence!” she laughed, pulling you into a gentle hug as your body stiffened uncomfortably against the contact. She didn’t seem to notice. “I’m here to meet someone. What about you?”

“Date.”

“Really?” She tilted her head. “Wait– is this one of those dates Bucky’s setting you up on?”

You gave her a tight-lipped smile in return, eliciting a sigh and a shake of her head.

“God, he’s so fucking dense.” She rolled her eyes, her lips stretching into a fine line of what looked to be pity. You didn’t ask what she’d meant by it and only quirked an eyebrow. It’s not like you disagreed, per se.

“Well, hey, if your date’s running late, you’re more than welcome to hang out with me.”

“Um-“ You racked your brain for an excuse not to, but found none that’d be polite enough so you relented, repressing a scowl. “Sure?”

You followed her lead through the crowd, stopping at a set of stools placed before the counter. Motioning at an empty pair, she told you to sit and that she’d be right back once she found the friend she was meeting.

You obliged and slid onto one of the stools to face the door, the palm of your hand supporting your head. You could feel the onset of a headache which did nothing to make you feel better.

You were in a mood, obviously, and it was not one that screamed approachability. It irked you that every time you came close to even letting Bucky know what you wanted, the universe had other plans. And even with that anger and dissatisfaction, you would have rather spent time with him and Becca than at a bar, waiting for the last date of your stupid bet.

It was a while before you felt someone beside you and you didn’t bother to look up until there was obnoxious laughter, forcing you out of your reverie.

“Oh, this is my friend, Y/N,” Dot said as she got settled in her seat, nodding to the bartender you had yet to acknowledge, a grin on her face.

“Hey there.”

You laboriously lifted your head to answer his greeting, only to have your words die down in your suddenly dry throat.

“I’m Brock, but everyone just calls me Rumlow.”

You stared blankly at him, eyes too baffled to blink. It felt as if you were frozen. You could see the recognition in his eyes but he made no attempt to make that recognition known.

To say it hit you like a truck would be an understatement. You weren’t sure if your sight was deceiving you, but you hadn’t drank any alcohol yet nor had you ingested hallucinogenic mushrooms so it couldn’t be that.

Fuck.

“Is something wrong?” Dot interrupted your growing panic, bringing you back to the moment harshly.

He hadn’t moved, only jutted his hand further out in an attempt to give you a handshake.

“No,” you replied roughly, trying to look at him as coolly as you could– as if everything inside you was calm. “Nothing at all.”

“Have you met before?” Dot asked, intermittently glancing at the both of you.

You watched him silently, assessing his face to see what he would say.

“This would be the first time,” he said with a smile so casual, you almost missed the tiniest bit of uncertainty that flashed across his face.

“Oh, cool,” she shrugged. And even her shrug nearly had you jumping.

“Can I get you both anything?” He gestured behind him to the numerous bottles lining the shelves; some so old they had begun to collect dust.

“Just a beer. Y/N?”

You mutely shook your head, not taking your eyes off him.

“Bottle or pint?”

“Bottle,” she replies easily, smiling easily, breathing easily.

He nodded and left the two of you to get her a bottle.

“How, uh, how do you know him?” you cleared your throat, hoping to sound as inconspicuous as possible. She clearly had no idea about what was going on– and she thought Bucky was dense.

“We’ve known each other years. He was on the football team at Middleton. Met him when he came to our school for a game.”

“Ah.”

“Here you go,” Rumlow announced, placing an open glass bottle in front of her, returning his attention to you.

“Sure you don’t want anything?”

You shook your head again, dropping your gaze to the sticky counter instead.

He didn’t pursue it further, instead picking up a glass from under the counter.

“What’s going on with you nowadays, Dot?” he asked nonchalantly, gently wiping at the glass with a worn out towel.

You wanted to get out of here as soon as possible without raising suspicion, but your date hadn’t arrived and it hadn’t even been ten minutes since you sat down.

“Other than crying from constant stress and anxiety on a daily basis? Nothing much really,” she laughed, bringing the bottle to her lips.

“You both go to the same college?” he gestured between the two of you as if he didn’t already know.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him when his gaze lingered on you longer than you would have liked– so, at all.

He quickly returned to looking at her rather than you.

“Nah, we had a mutual friend who I met at a coffee shop recently and he introduced us. Actually,” she squinted. “You might know him. Bucky Barnes?”

You saw his jaw clench as he subtly raised his fingers to itch at his nose. It was still slightly disfigured from when it was last broken. You held yourself back from smirking smugly.

“Yeah, I know him. Barnes and I go way back,” his voice was venomous but his maintained composure overall.

Your knuckles were beginning to hurt with how hard your fists were clenched, almost like you were waiting for a moment when you would have to defend yourself.

“Hold on a second. You both-“ she straightened her back, putting her bottle down as she glanced between you both.

Your heart leapt to your throat.

Did she finally figure it out?

“You both used to go to the same school.” She furrowed her eyebrow as if she was trying to recollect a distant memory. “Yeah- Middleton, right? How haven’t you met each other before?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I think I may have been a year or two ahead of you. Barnes and I were the same year,” he replied calmly before you could reply with what would probably have been an incoherent mess of sentences meshed together.

You leaned back, giving him a nod. “Yeah, that. What he said.”

“That makes sense.” She shrugged, letting go of the topic easily. She nudged your elbow gently, gaining your attention. “Any update on your date?”

“Uh-“ you quickly checked your phone, finding no texts or calls. “No. Don’t think it’s happening.”

“You waitin’ on a date?” Rumlow looked up from his distraction with sudden interest.

Raising an eyebrow, you simply replied, “Yes.”

“If he stands you up, he’s a dick,” Dot stated, raising her beer. “I fuckin’ hate it when people do that.”

“Wait, people have stood you up before?” he asked, putting down a glass and picking up another almost like clockwork, a teasing smile on his face. The scar above his near his eye crinkled when he did so.

You were there when he got that, some dumb fight his ego landed him in.

“More times than I would like.” She rolled her eyes, taking a large swig. “But it’s not the worst thing to happen on a date.”

“What could possibly be worse than not even being on one?”

“Lots of things, buddy. Bad dates are a whole other ballgame.”

You agreed silently, your experiences for the past few months speaking for themselves.

She continued, “What’s your worst date story, Rumlow?”

“Uh,” he paused before he laughed to himself. “If we’re not counting the stand-ups, middle school with this girl I liked before I realized she was the clingiest person I had ever met and tried to stick her tongue down my throat every five minutes.”

“Isn’t that exactly the way you are now? I see she later became your role model,” Dot tipped her bottle at him but he just rolled his eyes at her.

“Y/N.” Oh no. “Worst date story?” Fuck.

You had plenty of stories from the past few months, hell from even before that. But… there was no way you’d get this opportunity again.

“Got any good ones?”

Should you even dare to do that? Was it worth it? You didn’t even know how he would react. It was way too risky.

Oh, fuck it.

“High school, with this senior. I’d been dating him for almost two years and he asks me to come to a party as some excuse for a date,” you snorted a laugh. “That was a sign, like almost everything else he did, that our relationship wasn’t in a good place. So I thought, ‘Okay, we’ll get to talk things out.’”

You hear the sharp cling of Rumlow placing the glass back onto the countertop, but you ignored him, your smirk still very self-satisfied. You knew he knew where you were going with this.

You don’t take your eyes off him, watching the vein in his neck begin to strain against his skin. “I get there and all’s well until we start arguing about something stupid, don’t even remember what. You know how guys are.” Dot nodded with a roll of her eyes.

“And we just keep yelling about things that don’t even matter, about things that we’d pulled from thin air. Just, you know, anything to get a rise out of the other, really.”

You could see him swallowing but never breaking his composure.

You glanced at Dot. She was listening intently, chin resting on her palm. You took it as a sign to continue.

“Then it was just incoherent screams and then,“ you inhaled, forcing yourself to loosen your grip before your knuckles splintered, “he says he’d been cheating on me for about a year by then. Someone from another school so that no one we knew would see them together.”

Dot drew in a sharp intake of breath. “Shit.”

“That wasn’t even the worst part. He came from a pretty rough background and used to borrow cash off me often. I didn’t think much of it, because you know, it’s his own business, and I just wanted to help him out how ever I could.” You laughed humorlessly. “Turns out he was using that money to spend on the other girl he was with. Bought her cute stuff, took her out on dates on the days he stood me up, the works. It was pretty fucked up.”

“Jesus Christ.”

You could see him look at Dot after her reaction and you wondered if he was actually scared you’d tell her the truth.

“And then he broke up with me. I think he left her soon after that too because he lost his source of income.” You looked at him straight in the eye, never once blinking. You hoped he was squirming. “Fucked me up for a little while, especially since I saw him around the rest of his senior year until he finally graduated– which was unexpected given his academic record. Didn’t really bother with any kind of relationship after that.”

“That’s screwed up on so many levels. I’m sorry, dude,” she didn’t say anything further, and you didn’t really expect her to.

“Enough about me, though. What about you?” You put on a small smile.

“Nothing I’ve experienced could come close to that, buddy, I think you’ve outdone all of us,” she joked, laughing to herself.

“It isn’t a competition, you know.” You nudged at her. You deliberately were avoiding looking at him, noticing from the corner of your eye that he had stopped his cleaning and was instead leaning on the countertop. “C’mon, what’s your worst?”

“Honestly nothing too bad. Just a few incredibly lame dates, but other than that-“

“Hey, why don’t you tell Y/N here about the disaster of a relationship in your junior year?” he broke in loudly, gaining your attention.

“God, no, we agreed to never talk about that,” she playfully rolled her eyes at him but he looked adamant.

A smile spread across his cheeks, one that was almost sinister. He glanced at you silently, letting his gaze linger, leaving a unsettling feeling in your gut. Suddenly, you didn’t feel so great about what was about to happen.

“No, no, I’m sure she’d be very interested in hearing all about it.”

“Jesus, fine.” She chugged the rest of her beer, almost as if it was for courage. “Brock and I had this very brief-“

“It wasn’t brief,” he protested.

“Fine. He and I had a fling for a year in high school.”

“In my senior year.”

It felt like your blood ran cold.

“It was fun but then we agreed it didn’t work out because he was graduating.” She poked at his shoulder but he wasn’t paying any attention to her.

He was staring directly at you and for good reason.

“It was great. We hung out a lot, even though we weren’t in the same school. Almost felt like more than a year.”

“We were never ‘official.’” She used air quotation marks, obviously trying to downplay it. It clearly wasn’t something she liked talking about but he kept pushing it.

“But that didn’t stop us from doing a lot of things.” He smirked and she punched his arm.

Your mouth opened and closed like some kind of fucking fish but it felt like you couldn’t breathe. He cheated on you with Dot? With fucking Dot?

Was there anyone in your life not interested in her?

“It’s embarrassing and we agreed never to mention it again,” she said something after that but it was like you were tuning everything out to try and make sense of it on your own.

But it didn’t.

It didn’t make any sense. How did you miss this? Fuck, you never bothered finding out the girl’s name. You didn’t even know what she looked like or which grade she was in.

Idiot.

“I-I need to go,” you choked out, grabbing your phone and stuffing it into the pocket of your jacket haphazardly, fingers trembling. You couldn’t believe he had gotten under your skin again and you had just completely given him a chance to do so.

“So soon?” Rumlow asked, feigning surprise. You couldn’t even look him in the face but his amusement was glaringly obvious.

“Wait, did something happen?” Dot grabbed a hold of your shoulder and you nearly threw it off.

Don’t fucking touch me.

She looked taken aback but didn’t voice it. “Do you need me to drop you off somewhere?”

“No. No, I’m just gonna go.”

“Y/N-“

Get out, get out, get the fuck out of there.

“It was nice meeting you!” He called out from behind you.

Your head was reeling. You didn’t even turn around for a final look, just stumbled out of the bar into the deserted street.

After calling for an Uber that was only a minute or two away, you stumbled over your own feet to the car and asked the driver to step on it, praying that he wouldn’t try to make conversation with you.

Your fingers hovered above Bucky’s contact as you stared at his name. There’s no way he would have known. He wouldn’t have done this to you, would he?

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be on a date-“

“Did you know?”

“What?” On any other occasion it would be a relief to hear Bucky’s voice after another shitty date but now it just furthered your rage.

“Did you fucking know?”

The excitement he’d expressed in his voice when he’d first answered the call seemed to diminish and worry took its place as he replied, “Know what?”

“About Rumlow.”

He went silent. “What about him?”

“That he worked at the fucking bar you sent me to, James. Jesus Christ.” You rolled your eyes so hard you hoped it would somehow translate to his end.

“I- Y/N- what?”

“What about him and Dolores, huh?” Bucky had to have known about that. For Christ’s sake, their dumb sport of grown men chasing a ball would have allowed them to spend an absurd amount of time together.

“Wait, what does Dot have to do with any of this, I’m so-“

“You two were on the same goddamn football team Bucky, how could you have not known?” Your volume had risen exponentially and you ignored the questioning stare the driver gave you through the rearview mirror.

“You’re not making any sense here Y/N, I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.” He almost sounded distressed and if you weren’t so riled up, you would have already stopped by now.

“He cheated on me with her,” Your stomach felt like it was being twisted into knots when you finally said it out loud. You sunk into your seat, quietening. “She’s the girl from the other school.”

He fell silent for a few moments once more. “I don’t understand.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” your voice cracked and you tightened your grip on your phone, pinching your thigh with your other hand.

Keep it together, damn it.

“Tell you? I didn’t even know-“

“Did you-” It felt fucked up to even think it but it felt like the irrationality hit you out of nowhere. “Did you set me up with this?”

“Wait, what-”

“Rumlow, Dot– this was too fucking coincidental.” You were justifying it more and more with every passing second, your mind spinning absurdities. “Was there even a date tonight or were you just fucking with me?”

“I… I can’t believe you just asked me that,” his voice was soft. “I would never, ever-“

“You never once hinted to me about her and…” you trailed off. “You’ve been hanging out with her months, James, don’t tell me you knew absolutely nothing about this.”

“Do you really think that I would hide something like that from you?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

“What does that even mean-“

“What about the past four dates, huh?” you interrupted again. “You claim to know me, yet every single one of these guys were people you knew I wouldn’t like. Was it all just one big fucking joke? Because if it was, this would be a perfect ending.”

“That was never my intention and you know it.“ You could tell that Bucky was struggling to keep his cool.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

You could hear him exhale through the phone. “Wow.”

“Bucky-“ you hesitated, only to have him cut you off.

“That’s just… really unfair, you know? If you really believe I’d go out of my way to do something like this to you then I don’t think there’s anything I can say.”

“I guess there isn’t.”

Part 11

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