Every night, Bucky mentally drafted a resignation letter.

Because holy shit, it was eleven and he was sitting behind a grimy counter at a grimier 24-hour convenience store.

Also, nobody was there. He guessed that was probably a good thing, since he could just sit and do his homework, but at the same time...it was so fucking boring.

"Hey, Buck."

Bucky looked up. "Steve!" He paused. "Wait, what are you doing here?"

"You always say you get bored here," he explained. "So I'm here."

"Oh," Bucky said, slightly lost for words. It was sweet. Really, really sweet. And it meant Steve listened to him when he talked, which was nice to think about. Cut it out, Bucky. Don't think like that.

The speakers in the store−Bucky had never understood why they had to be on all the damn time−switched songs. Bucky couldn't tell what the new one was; he wanted to guess Taylor Swift, but that might be wrong. Natasha would know.

"So, how's it going?"

"Um," Bucky said. "Fine. It's...fine. Boring."

"Yeah, I bet. You just sit here every night?"

Bucky shook his head. "Just most nights. Not Thursdays or Fridays."

"So why do you say you can never sleep over?"

Bucky was thrown by the question. "Um...it's my dad. He can't be left home alone for too long."

"Why not?"

"...Do you mind not asking?" It came out ruder than Bucky meant it to, and he winced.

Steve just nodded. "Yeah. Of course." He sighed. "So...what's new with you?"

"Nothing really. You?"

Steve shrugged. "No. Thinking about getting a dog, so that's nice."

"Oh, really? What kind?"

"I like golden retrievers."

"Of course you do," Bucky laughed. "Punk."

"Jerk." Steve teased. "Probably won't get a purebred, though. I want to get a rescue."

"Awww," Bucky teased.

"Oh, come on, I saw your face when you found Alpine. She wasn't even cute."

"She so was! Don't talk about my cat like that!" Bucky protested.

"She wasn't! She was tiny and skinny and her fur was all dirty and matted, but you completely fell in love with her."

Bucky scowled at him. "You're the worst."

"You love me," Steve said. "I'm your best friend."

"...yeah."

"He admits it!" Steve announced triumphantly. "He admits it! I'm your best friend!"

"Don't get a big head," Bucky said. "It's you and Nat."

"What about Clint?"

"Right, him too."

Steve laughed. "I'm sure he feels really loved. Are you allowed to eat anything in this store?"

"Not without paying."

"What if I pay?"

"Are you offering to buy me something from the literal store I work at?"

"Maybe. I'll be right back!" Steve disappeared behind a shelf.

"You don't have to!" Bucky called after him.

A few moments later, he reappeared with two bottles of soda. Looking Bucky directly in the eyes, he tucked the money into the register and handed him the orange bottle.

"What'd you get?" Bucky asked, already knowing the answer. Steve twisted the bottle to show him the label.

"Root beer."

"You're a strange person," Bucky said.

"Says you. That looks fucking radioactive."

"You look radioactive."

"What does that even mean?"

Bucky shrugged.

"Hmm," Steve mused. "Well, you can get radioactive burns. If something burns you, it's hot. So radioactivity is hot, so..." he grinned. "You just called me hot!"
Bucky felt his face heat up. "That is the weirdest connection. You're a—you're a pathological optimist."

"Who taught you that saying?"

"Bruce."

"Ah. Should've known."

Bucky nodded and yawned.

"Tired?" Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged. "A little. And so much homework."

"You want me to leave you alone so you can finish it?"

"No!" Bucky blushed. "I mean, no, stay. I'll finish it later."

Steve's eyes glittered with amusement. "You sure? I don't want to be the reason you're exhausted tomorrow."

"I'm sure," Bucky said.

Steve looked at him for a long moment, and Bucky tried to convey please stay, please don't leave me alone here again, please stay here and keep talking to me in his expression without looking pathetic.

"Alright," Steve agreed. Bucky gave a tiny, almost imperceptible sigh of relief.

"Here, sit down," he said. Steve sat in the chair next to Bucky's. Bucky checked his phone. 11:38. Twenty-two more minutes.

"You sure you don't want me to go?" Steve said after a minute of silence.

"I mean−if you want to leave then you should," Bucky said. "But, um, I'd rather you stay."

"I don't want to go," Steve said. "I just also want to make sure you get your homework done and don't die of sleep deprivation."

"I'm fine," Bucky said. "It's almost all done anyway."

"Cool. What'd you get on the math test earlier?"

"Ninety-seven. Why, what'd you get?"

Steve sighed. "Seventy-two."

Bucky winced. "That sucks."

"Least I'm not a nerd," Steve joked, elbowing him in the ribs. Hard. Right where his dad had hit earlier.

Bucky winced and inhaled sharply. Steve turned to him, all laughter gone from his face and replaced with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Bucky rubbed the bruise. "Just...bumped into something earlier. Hard."

"Are you sure? You look like you're still in pain." Ever the nurse's son, Steve asked, "Can I see?"

Bucky hesitated and Steve shook his head. "No, sorry, never mind. Overstepping."

"No, you can if you want. It's just not that bad."

Steve didn't say anything.

Bucky lifted his shirt enough to show the bruise on his ribs. Steve inhaled. "That doesn't look like you bumped into something. It looks like someone hit you."

"Nobody hit me," Bucky lied.

"How did you even bump into something that badly, then?"

"I tripped over Alpine," Bucky said. "And hit my side on the corner of a shelf."

Steve still looked unconvinced. "Can I...?" he held out his hand and Bucky flinched away, lowering his shirt again.

"Uh...no. Sorry, I..."

"It's okay," Steve said. "Sorry if that was weird."

"No, it's fine."

The door opened and Jennifer walked in. Bucky was pretty sure she was related to Bruce in some way (cousin, maybe, he thought) but mostly just knew her as the woman who had the shift after his.

"You're early," he commented. "It's only 11:52."

She shrugged. "Go home and get some sleep for once, kid."

"Thanks." Bucky grabbed his bag. "Let's go, Steve. Bye, Jennifer. Thanks."

"Bye, Jennifer!" Steve called over his shoulder as they left.

They both lived in the same direction, so they walked together until they reached Steve's house. Steve grinned at Bucky, offered a "Good night!" and went inside.

Bucky walked the rest of the way home quickly, eager to be out of the surprisingly cold night air. He was out the second he hit the bed.

It didn't mean anything that the whole time Steve was there, he hadn't thought about his dad once.