ax_main | Bucky & Natasha: Bucky's Birthday

Natasha celebrates Bucky's birthday.

Bucky wasn’t expecting anyone stopping over, so when he heard the knock on the door he assumed it was Natasha. He was getting ready to head to the gym, halfway through changing. He didn’t bother throwing a shirt back on but he redid his belt. Bucky opened the door a crack to confirm his suspicions. Not only was it Natasha, but she was holding a white box and smiling like a devil.

“Hey. What’s up?” Bucky asked. He pulled the door open the rest of the way, stepping back.

Somehow, her smile managed to get even wider as she slipped inside. "Is that any way to treat your boss?" Natasha sing-songed, pressing the box into his hand as she made her way over to drop onto the edge of his bed uninvited.

Bucky shook his head. He glanced into the corridor to see if there was anyone watching her arrival before shutting the door. "You're an ass, Stark." He brought the box over to his desk. "This doesn't feel like tech. What did you do?" He thumbed open the tape seal at the corner.

"You knew that," she said absently, clearly more interested in wriggling her fingers into Butterfingers' crate to greet the dog. "Just a little something for you."

Bucky opened the lid and stared down at a cake covered in a sea of candles. “The fuck...” It took him a second to understand. “There’s like. 90 candles on this thing, isn’t there?”

"There might be," Natasha agreed, just barely holding in a smirk through sheer force of will. "Couldn't let the day go by without acknowledging it some how, could I?"

"Are you trying to set the school on fire?" He folded down the edges of the cake box. The cake itself looked decadent and delicious. The corners of Bucky's lips tugged as he fought a smile.

God. When was the last time he'd celebrated his birthday? Gramma Hubbard in their small kitchen. Later, the guys concocting something that resembled a cake but still tasted like shit rations while Bucky chased Steve in the field. That life was 70 or more candles in the past. Bucky shook his head and looked over at Natasha.

"Thanks, Stark. You are one the strangest parts of life. And that's saying a lot."

"Rude," she said, not sounding particularly offended, and dropped back onto his bed with a grin to spread her arms out across the mattress. "And after I went to all that trouble to get you the correct number."

"I can hold my breath a pretty long time, but I'm not blowing these all out." He plucked one candle out of the cake and sucked the icing from it. The buttercream was incredible. Damn.

"You'd better, or else you don't get to make a wish." Also all that wax was going to get into the cake pretty quick, but whatever. Not her problem. "I'll do you the favor of skipping the singing."

Bucky twisted the candle, licking the traces of frosting hugging the grooves of the wax. He raised a brow and popped the candle out with one last suck. "No singing, no fire. If you're sticking to traditions you've got to honor them all."

"I could just take the cake back if you're not going to appreciate it properly, you know."

"Appreciate it with me.” Bucky reached under the edge of the desk and when his hand came up he was holding a knife. It wasn’t the kind of knife of usually used to slice a cake, but he didn’t see any fancy utensils in the box.

"And ruin my diet?" Natasha drawled lazily, smirking to herself. Though the offer did at least nudge her at least partially upright, pulling her elbows underneath herself to prop up high enough to see him. "You better not be cutting that with a combat knife, heathen."

“What? It’s clean.”

"According to who?" She snorted and pushed herself the rest of the way up.

“The guy that cleaned it.” He grinned. “Not up to your standards?”

"Not sure I trust yours," Natasha shot back with a sunny grin. "Gimme cake already."

Bucky grabber paper towels to use as a plates and started cutting a slice. He worked his way around the birthday candles. It wasn’t the most refined job, but he passed one slice to Natasha before starting to yank the candles out of his wedge. “This is the fanciest fucking cake. What is this filling?”

"Chocolate ganache," she said as she broke off a corner and popped it into her mouth. Not bad. "Of course it's fancy. I'm a fancy person."

Bucky tried a bite. “Fuck. You spoil me.”

"You only just noticed?" She exaggerated a pout at him as she went for more cake. "Clearly I'm gonna have to try harder."

His smile turned soft as he glanced at Natasha. Bucky took another bite of cake and kept his smart ass comments to himself for an interlude.

Natasha let him get away with that for a few minutes, clearly just enjoying the cake before she delicately set the napkin down on his desk. "So. Guessing you're not telling anyone and I should set up a fireworks display?"

"I'm avoiding answering the question 'how old are you?' Does everything have to be a party with you, Stark?" He didn't seem that bothered.

She just gave him a long, bland look. "You have met me, right?"

He snorted. "What do I need to do to stop you from fireworks and fanfare?"

The grin that stretched across her mouth in return was entirely too innocent to be believable. "Ask real nice?"

If she was going to be an ass, he was right there upping the ante. Bucky set down wiped his fingers off on the paper towel and set it down. He stepped closer to Natasha and took her hand. Bucky raised it to brush a kiss lightly across the back of Natasha's knuckles. Looking at her over the curve of her fingers, Bucky asked very nicely, "Would you please keep this between you and me?"

She stared at him for a long moment, then snorted and gently flicked the tip of his nose. "Fine. Wiseass. See if I ever do anything nice for you again."

Bucky grinned. “You can’t help yourself.”

"Sorry, was that 'no, Natasha, I definitely don't want presents'? Because that's what it sounds like." She gave an injured sniff and went back to eating her cake.

"If you want to feed me cake I'm not objecting, it's the dragging me through public that gets to me. It's not so bad when it's us." He leaned against his desk and amended. "It's not so bad when it's this."

"You charmer, you," Natasha deadpanned in return. "Fine, you may have your present. Eventually, when I feel like getting up."

Bucky could only imagine what she'd come up with. "Make yourself at home."