Chapter Text
1.
Adjusting to life in the 21st century isn’t easy on most people that survive through it, but it’s even worse when you were 1) in fact over one hundred years old and 2) had the biggest chip on your shoulder known to man or alien. Bucky was one of those rare individuals that had a hard time adjusting. Of course he’d say that he was adjusting just fine, and most of the time he was. Life living in the Avengers tower, surrounded by a growing companionship of superhero types of friends that were finally beginning to trust him and include him as family, well that was pretty great.
Even missions weren’t so bad, now that his brain finally got to a point semi stable wise. It was good enough for him, and of course good enough for Steve and the others.
But, there were just some things that really bothered Bucky.
Like just how weird some of the food tasted nowadays, and perhaps trying to figure out how to man the hundreds of remotes for various tvs and stereos, etc that Tony had in his tower without accidentally pushing the wrong button and ending up rocket launching one of Tony’s suits. That had been special the first time it had happened. And even the second and third. And there was no way in hell’s outhouse that he was even going to BEGIN to tell JARVIS what to do. He might feel welcome in Tony’s tower, but he sure as hell didn’t trust that seemingly all knowing computer.
He knew how to use computers just fine, thank you very much. But, if he didn’t have to use them that much, that was fine with him. Seriously, how in the fuck did Steve already have whatever it was that was called a Facebook account? Granted, Steve had had a bit more time out of the ice than he had had out of the Winter Soldier brainwashed state, so maybe he should give himself a little bit of slack here.
Even all that wasn’t so bad.
Now… when it came down to being on the road - as in driving, that was where the kicker really held some of Bucky’s frustrations. Ok, maybe more than just some.
He’d done his driving test back in the late thirties, same as Steve, and in this day in age, he had retaken it to make sure he knew all the rules. If there was one thing that Bucky loved, was structure. Even before Hydra snatched him up and turned him into their psycho bitch murder child, Bucky had enjoyed having plans. So, when he took his driver’s test on the same day that Steve had decided to do his, Bucky was all smiles when he got his brand new shiny New York Drivers License. The fact that Tony had got them express ordered and printed meant that he already had it waiting for him before he even stepped foot into the Motor Vehicles place.
Perks of having one of the brainiest, wealthiest men in the US as his friend and comrade.
However, once he got out on the road with Steve that first day, they had taken turns driving Steve’s old beat up Bug. Which didn’t quite end well. The fact that Steve had driven that piece of crap tin can around a year ago when the both of them and Sam were on the run for a while without an updated license made Bucky feel more fondness than he should for his best friend. But two things that Bucky noticed while behind the wheel of that cramped vehicle, was that 1) everyone out on the road besides them were complete and utter idiots and 2) he was going to fucking lose his shit and die of a heart attack or spontaneous combustion from his cresting blood pressure due to said idiots.
Bucky loved driving, but he hated people driving out there with him.
How in the fuck did some of these lunatics think they knew how to drive? Did they have absolutely no sense of direction, and did they not have more common sense than a spastic gnat trying to fuck a lightbulb? How did these asshats manage to survive - much less sleep at night with the way they drove without a care in the world besides what was on their phone that Bucky swore was attached to them twenty four seven? In a way Bucky had been impressed by how stupid people in the 21st century were as motorists. But, then he was also, very very nervous to be out there with that kind of populace. And when Bucky finally got over feeling sorry for himself and binging on doritos and oreos for ten straight days, he put his big Winter Soldier pants on and got with the program.
And he got with the program alright. He got so good at it that at first, everyone in the Avengers tower were excited to be with him while he was driving. And boy did that make him feel useful, and even loved. But then, suddenly… people stopped wanting to ride with him so much.
Apparently, road rage is frowned upon in the Avenger’s establishment.
That’s right, Bucky suffered from high intensity road rage issues.
The first person to nope the fuck out of riding with Bucky whenever he was behind the wheel was Bruce. Of course, that might be a bit understandable considering the poor guy already dealt with enough anger management and anxiety issues as it was. He didn’t need any of Bucky’s insistent urge to rant and rave at the local moronic populace.
The second person to ditch Bucky was Nat. And you know if Nat decided not to ride with you while driving, then you definitely had some issues. Bucky still tried not to take that too hard.
The both of them were still friends but Nat definitely drew the line when it came to Bucky’s “volatile and reckless road rage”. But, in his defense, Bucky admitted that at least he hadn’t you know, killed anyone yet. So there was a silver lining to that. Wasn’t there?
Nat had flat out glowered at him, which had made him bristle a bit, but then cave. He knew better than to go against a Widow when they had their foot planted firmly in one of their beliefs. So, he let it go.
However, he did NOT let it go when Wanda, Clint, and Scott bailed on him. And then even Pepper, bless her heart, had opted to try and set him up with counseling on his road rage. Did Bucky ever go to said sessions? No, but he appreciated her intentions.
Soon his list of people that were ok with his driving dwindled down to Tony, Thor, Steve, and Sam. The last two of that quad squad were extremely picky on when and where he could drive. Like, going to the store, or even going for a bite to eat was well thought out and usually happened after or before rush hour and definitely not during.
To tell you the truth, that kind of hurt Bucky’s feelings, but he couldn’t help feeling the way he did out on the road.
At least everyone didn’t seem to mind when he flew their asses around for missions. That, they at least trusted him with.
Finally though, Bucky had had enough. He wanted to drive, and he wanted to actually feel useful and helpful so he asked (demanded) Steve if he could drive them to go see a movie at their favorite old movie theatre which shockingly was still around. “Come on, Stevie, we haven’t gone to an actual movie theatre in over seventy years. And it’s only a Monday night, so you know, I will be less likely to endanger you guys or make you feel uncomfortable.”
Sam arched a brow at Steve and the two shared a long understanding look before Sam said softly, “I’ll have to miss this one. I got something I need to do, so you two go on and have fun.”
Steve then looked over at Bucky and said softly, “Buck, it’s not that you will endanger us….”
“Save it Stevie. I know I can lose my head sometimes out there on the road. I’m trying to do better,” Bucky said, feeling a bit downtrodden.
Steve couldn’t handle it when Bucky looked so sad or unsure of himself. To this day the poor man couldn’t pull a poker face even if he tried. Yea, he might try and be brave for Steve - and only Steve, but the Captain could see through Bucky’s facade with ease. Sometimes when Steve would catch Bucky looking off in the distance when he thought no one else was looking, and he would see the lost, heartbreakingly emotional expressions run over his face. It was enough to make Steve vow to do anything to help Bucky feel better. Feel wanted. Feel loved. In any way possible. Yea, they all were broken people who lived in the Avengers tower, but Buck was special to Steve.
Maybe he wouldn’t be able to fix Bucky, but he could make his life feel less out of control.
So, Steve smiled and tugged his best friend into a hug, saying softly, “Ok Buck. Tell you what. If we go to the movies and back without you losing it, then I’ll let you drive me to Philly to see a late season baseball game. I just got us tickets, so it’d be you and me pal.”
Bucky brightened and smiled big. “You are a fucking sap, you know that? But, if that isn’t motivation, nothing is. I’ll get us back in one piece, I promise.”
That’s not quite what I am worried about, Steve thought, but shared a grin and followed Bucky down to the garage.
“Get back here ASSHOLE! FUCKING USE YOUR GODDAMN BLINKER YOU PIECE OF SHIT! See if I save your ungrateful sanctimonious ass next time!” Bucky all but roared out the window at the smirking jackass that had just cut him off. Bucky’s blood boiled when the prick up and proceeded to flip him off. Oh Bucky was going to cut a bitch.
“Bucky, calm down,” Steve said, wincing when Bucky flat out glowered at him with almost literal icy blue daggers flaring out of his eyes.
“Steve, wHaT do YoU mean calm down?” Bucky snarled. “Where in the fuck of history has that phrase succeeded in calming a mildly semi-unstable hundred year old asshole down?”
“Well, can’t help a guy for trying,” Steve replied. “We can do this all day, but I’d rather get back home in one piece….”
An hour later….
“See, this is why we don't let you drive anymore, Buck,” Steve admitted dryly, getting a moody scowl for his efforts.
“Hey, it could have been worse. I could have thrown a grenade at him but you said for me to be polite so ripping his steering wheel out was the best choice of action, Stevie,” Bucky replied, still full on sulking and nursing his frayed nerves. “And I am NOT going to apologize for that. That smug ass turd-bitch had it coming and if he wasn’t going to drive responsibly, then I was going to make sure he didn’t drive at all and endanger other poor fucks out there.”
Steve let out a deep sigh and let Bucky rant and rave. It was best to let Bucky do so rather than let him keep it all bottled up. Once inside the tower, as they were going up the elevator, Bucky took a few deep breaths and looked a bit calmer, and even a bit sheepish. “Fuck, I screwed it all up, didn’t I?”
When Steve nodded slowly, Bucky felt a bit worse. “We are still going to the game, though right?”
“Yea. Just not with you behind the wheel. I’m going to drive us,” Steve said, causing Bucky to relax a bit.
It could have been worse. Steve could have just ended up not going with him to see the game. “Might be better that way anyways. You’ve seen me park. I don’t like crowded garages, so parking at a stadium where there might be a fuck ton of people is not my idea of a fun situation.”
Bucky was trying. He really was. Steve snorted and admitted, “Tell me about it. The last time we went downtown and you tried parallel parking, that had ended in a total disaster. I am still wondering if that SUV owner knew their vehicle was actually picked up and moved back further so you could have an easier time of it.”
“Well, it’s better than throwing that moron’s SUV across the way into that Starbucks,” Bucky deadpanned, which caused Steve to start laughing. Bucky scowled a bit and added, “Plus, who the fuck does that? Not only was the fucker a full two feet away from the curb so I nearly took off their side view mirror, but also, they parked over the line and was taking up two spaces. In downtown. Where there is LITERALLY no parking during certain times of the day. And I wasn’t going to go park four miles away in a seedy old abandoned garage just to see that damned exhibit at the museum.”
“God, Bucky, if you ever got a job as a traffic control cop, people would kill you from all the tickets you’d be handing out,” Steve said with a teasing grin.
“Oh shut up, punk,” Bucky said, nudging Steve hard enough to make the man budge. Steve still was getting used to that. Having someone almost stronger than him or perhaps slightly stronger than him being able to move him like that. Besides Bruce and maybe a few others in the Avengers, Bucky was one who could do that.
They were a match in strength and size, though Bucky was shorter than him by an inch or two. Steve nudged Bucky back, and muttered, “Jerk,” before they got to the common floor. Bruce, Scott, and Clint were all sprawled out in oversized sofas watching the latest episode of Game of Thrones; Sam, Rhodey, and Pietro were chilling near the bar, while Tony was helping Pepper and Wanda with dinner. Since this was a school night, Peter was absent. Thor wasn’t there either, but that wasn’t that odd.
He had enough issues with Asgard right now.
When Sam noted that the boys were back, he headed over to talk to them. “So how did it go?” He asked, and Bucky scowled mutinously, folding his arms across his chest, but didn’t say anything. Steve was left then to explain things. Once he was done, Sam arched a brow and looked over at Bucky assessingly.
When Bucky scowled even more, Sam nodded slowly. “Glad to know that I am not the only one that that has happened to. You know, that whole ripping the steering wheel out of your car thing.”
Steve figured he’d better dispel the situation before it got worse, so he steered a very irritated Bucky out of Sam’s personal bubble and got him to sit his ass down on a bar stool. He absently handed him one of those plush stress balls (Bucky had destroyed a thousand by now) and handed him a candy bar. Bucky was always partial to sweets, especially chocolate bars.
Grunting softly, Bucky squished the strange yellow looking stress ball and muttered, “I still don’t get how these are supposed to relieve stress. I’ve destroyed enough to know that they don’t hold up well under stress.”
“Just knead it like a cat for a while, Buck. And if you still feel bad after dinner, we can go work out in the gym downstairs,” Steve offered, keeping out of people’s hair by sitting down next to Bucky.
“That… that actually sounds great, Stevie,” Bucky admitted, letting out a deep breath, finally starting to feel tension ease from his body.
Steve always seemed to know how to calm down Bucky - when he wasn’t actually infuriated and in a rant or die spell. Bucky honestly didn’t know what he would do without Steve. The thought made him squeeze the stress ball harder, but then Steve up and took hold of his metal hand, and Bucky smiled a bit at the act.