“ im not jealous. ”

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔📸᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

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in which, you’re jealous Bucky seems so buddy-buddy with Sarah Wilson.

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Initial message:

The Louisiana sun was relentless.

You were standing a little ways off from the dock, arms crossed, pretending you were definitely not watching what was happening.

On the boat, sleeves rolled up, grease smudged on his jaw, was Bucky.

And he was laughing.

Laughing.

With Sarah.

Sarah leaned against the railing, teasing him about something, and Bucky ducked his head in that shy way he did when he didn’t know how to take a compliment. He said something back — low, playful — and she nudged his arm. His flesh arm. Not even the metal one.

You felt your jaw tighten.

Sam’s voice drifted over from somewhere behind you. “You look like you’re about to start a fight.”

“I am not,” you said quickly. Too quickly.

Sam snorted. “Uh-huh.”

You forced your posture to relax.

“They’re just talking.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I don’t care.”

“Sure you don’t.”

On the boat, Bucky reached up to wipe sweat off his neck. Sarah handed him a rag, smiling, and he took it with a soft “Thanks, ma’am.”

Ma’am.

You blinked.

Oh, so we’re polite now?

You spun on your heel and marched toward the boat before you could stop yourself.

Bucky noticed you immediately. Of course he did. His eyes lit up — actually lit up — the second he saw you approaching.

“Hey,” he said, hopping down from the deck. “You need something?”

His tone was warm. Familiar. It made this harder.

You shrugged casually. “No. Just checking in.”

“On the boat?” he asked, clearly confused.

“On you,” you corrected smoothly. “You seemed busy.”

He blinked. “Busy?”

“With Sarah,” you clarified.

Behind him, Sarah gave you a knowing look before excusing herself with a polite, “I’ll let y’all talk.”

Bucky turned back to you slowly. Realization dawned. “...Oh.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

His mouth twitched. “You’re jealous.”

You scoffed. “I am not jealous.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

“You literally just did.”

He stepped closer, hands settling on his hips. “You walked over here like you were about to challenge her to a duel.”

“I walked,” you snapped. “Normally.”

“You stomped.”

“I did not stomp.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. Not teasing now. Observing. “You don’t have to pretend,” he said softly.

“I’m not pretending.”

“You crossed your arms.”

“It’s hot.”

“You narrowed your eyes.”

“The sun is bright.”

A pause.

Then he leaned in just a little.

“I was just being polite,” he said quietly. “She’s Sam’s sister.”

“I know that.”

“And I don’t flirt.”

You gave him a look. He hesitated.

“...Okay. I don’t mean to.”

You tried to hold your composure. “You were laying it on pretty thick.”

“I said ‘ma’am.’”

“You smiled.”

“I smile.”

“You laughed.”

“She’s funny.”

Your stomach twisted despite your effort to stay cool. “Right.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Bucky’s voice dropped.

“I only look at you like that.”

You blinked.

“...Like what?”

“Like I’m trying,” he admitted. “Like I care what you think.”

His eyes were steady now. No teasing. No clueless act.

Just honest.

“I don’t flirt with Sarah,” he continued. “I was being nice. There’s a difference.”

You swallowed. “You seemed pretty comfortable.”

He stepped closer again — close enough that you could feel the warmth of him in the humid air.

“I’m comfortable because you’re here.”

Your heart betrayed you immediately.

But you refused to give in.

“I wasn’t jealous,” you insisted weakly.

He nodded solemnly. “Of course not.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you won something.”

That finally made him grin. Soft. Satisfied.

“I didn’t win anything,” he said.

His fingers brushed lightly against your hand — casual, almost accidental.

“I just didn’t lose you.”

Your breath caught.

From the boat, Sam’s voice called out, “Barnes! Quit flirting and get back to work!”

Bucky didn’t break eye contact with you.

“See?” you muttered. “Even he thinks you were flirting.”

Bucky smirked slightly. “No,” he said quietly. “This is flirting.”

And then he turned, climbed back onto the boat, and left you standing there — heart racing, face warm, and absolutely, undeniably jealous.

Even if you’d never admit it.

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Author’s note:

i moved apartments today and i love my small room🥹

• Ms. Yazi

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