Song lyrics: National Anthem by Lana del Rey

Money is the anthem

Of success

So before we go out

What's your address?

It was becoming difficult to surprise Bucky with anything with each passing day that he had been living at the compound, as he grew comfortable wandering the grounds and learning the layout, both the open common areas and the nuanced hideaways. He was ever-present lately, finding himself now getting a little listless without a mission for weeks and the need to burn off his building energy; he was always in the gym, or in the pool or running laps around the grounds. You had watched him every day, trying to find something that would ease the cabin fever that was plaguing him, when suddenly a perfect opportunity came to light, and you couldn't believe that you hadn't realized it sooner.

"Tony, I need you," you announced, bursting into his workshop with a bit too much enthusiasm, which he readily returned.

"Well, sweetheart, I thought you'd never ask. Can't say that I haven't thought about it."

"Oh my god, Tony, no," you cringed, "not like that."

"Then you should be more specific," he waved you off dismissively, "and maybe a little less offended by the idea if you're about to ask for my help."

"I'm sorry," you continued, following him when he tried to walk away. "But please, seriously, I do need your help. Have you finished working on that old motorcycle that you found in your dad's storage?"

"Yeah...why? I didn't think you rode one?"

"I don't," you smirked, "but Bucky does."

~~~

After promising Tony not only that you wouldn't hurt the bike in any way, you also promised to work as his lab assistant for the next month, which included delivery of morning coffee, lunch and dinner as a part of the deal. He also insisted that he be able to track your whereabouts with his property, and once you had forced him to agree that he wouldn't be spying on you, you shook his hand and had a contract settled. Now all that was left was to plan how to get Bucky to go along with it when the two of you had been no more than new friends to this point.

"FRIDAY, can you tell me where Bucky is?"

"Mr. Barnes is in the gym, miss."

"Right," you muttered to yourself, "should've known." With quick steps you hurried down the stairwell and to the gym doors, rushing through much the same as you had done in Tony's shop only a short time before. It was as if you hadn't learned anything.

"Bucky, I need you."

He grabbed the punching bag to settle its weight, smiling coyly as he held it steady and glanced your way, "hot damn, darlin', I ain't gonna say no to that."

This time, your response wasn't a cringe, and you barely even flinched. This time, you felt a sudden surge of confidence and a bit of playfulness; maybe it was the way he was looking at you, as he never had before, or maybe it was the way his shirt was clinging to his chest in just the right way. Whatever it was, it was fully welcomed.

"Well then, Mr. Barnes, it's your lucky day."

Now it was his turn to carry the shock in his eyes, looking back at you with a clear shift out of his own confidence and into something much more restrained. He swallowed thickly, coughing slightly to clear his throat with an evident nervousness that you took a little too much joy in. "Um...okay...sure," he stammered, slowly removing the tape from his hands, "what did you...what...did you have in mind?"

"You're gonna take me for a ride."

"Sweet Jesus," he whispered in a gasp, having to turn away to compose himself at the blatant offering you were giving him, and that he didn't know what to do with. He knew that his face had to be the deepest red that it had ever been, and his mind was almost instantly spinning.

You crossed the room towards him and put a gentle hand on his arm, feeling his muscles immediately tense under your touch, but he still didn't look at you. "Bucky, relax, it's not like that."

"Okay?" he cautiously only glanced back to you. "What's it like then, exactly?"

"Tony has a vintage motorcycle from Howard's storage, and I thought you might like to try it out."

You could see every inch of his body relax at your words, and the sigh that he finally felt safe to let out filled the room, followed by his relieved laughter. "Steve warned me about you," he smiled, turning to fully look at you, "he said that you were nothing but trouble."

"Hey, you're the one who jumped to conclusions!"

"You're the one who was screwing with me!" When you opened your mouth to retort with a sarcastic answer, he put his hand up sharply to stop you, pointing a warning your way and finding it nearly impossible to hold back his smile. "No! Not another word, (Y/N), or this ride's closed for good."

Bucky strode past you with a wide grin, pulling his sweat-soaked shirt off over his head as he moved, tossing it aside just before crossing the threshold into the hallway and towards his room to change into different clothes. He seemed to know exactly what would turn the tables for him to have the advantage, and as your eyes fixed on his form as he moved, he felt the mood take a turn. When you didn't move to follow, he took a few steps back to look, now feeling the confidence that you had just lost, "come on doll, don't get scared now. You started this and I'm gonna finish it."

I'm your National Anthem

God, you're so handsome

Take me to the Hamptons

Bugatti Veyron

He loves to romance them

Reckless abandon

Holdin' me for ransom

Upper echelon

~~~

"You sure you're ready for this?" When you gave him merely a nod of approval, Bucky grabbed your waist and lifted you from the ground, laughing at the loud squeal from you as he set you onto the rear seat of the bike. "Ticklish?"

"Surprised," you continued to chuckle, but allowed the sound to die out quickly to focus on the sound of his own laugh; it was a beautiful sound that not many had heard since he had moved in, and you wanted to give it the proper attention for being graced with it. "So, where are you taking me?"

"I know just the place."

"Okay...that's a little vague."

"It was meant to be." He slid his long leg over the seat in front of you and adjusted his body to find a comfortable rest, reaching out to the handlebars with a contented hum as his hand slowly glided over the shining, cool metal. He looked down at his own hand that matched the unforgiving surface, cursing under his breath and pulling a glove over it so that it wouldn't scratch the new paint that Tony had recently applied. The last time Bucky had been on a bike like this, it was as himself; fully as himself, and not as this broken, pieced together version of a man. He began to wonder why you would have any interest in being next to him as who he was now, when he couldn't even hold your hands without the chance that it could hurt you, and when you couldn't possibly feel anything other than repulsion at it.

"Hey," you broke into his thoughts, "you okay? You got really quiet there."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I thought you'd like it," you answered softly, fearing the frustration in his voice. "Was that wrong?"

"That's all? Nothing else?"

Now you too were second-guessing if this was a good idea or not; you took a long breath to steel your nerves before leaning into him to rest your arms around his waist and to hold him securely. "I was worried about you, if you want me to be truthful. You spend every day in the compound alone, barely keeping yourself busy enough to not lose it. I thought that this would be good for you to get out and have fun. If you want to go alone-"

"No!" he gasped, grabbing your hands desperately to hold them in place. "I mean...no," he sighed, "no, I want you to stay. This is a great idea, thank you. I suppose I didn't realize that you had taken such an interest in my well-being."

"Now you do." When you rested your head against his back, you could hear the shaking breaths moving in and out of his chest, and you wondered why you were making him so nervous. His hands were still on yours to keep you from fleeing, and he was making no motion towards turning the bike on. "Buck, let's go," you commanded quietly, holding your place against him. The engine quickly came to life beneath you, the sound almost deafening, but you didn't flinch; he kept one hand over yours until the very last second before the garage doors opened and he set his determination to get as far away from this place with you as he could.

~~~

He says to "be cool" but

I don't know how yet

Wind in my hair

Hand on the back of my neck

I said, "Can we party later on?"

He said, "Yes, yes, yes"

Tell me I'm your National Anthem

Booyah, baby, bow down

Making me say wow now

Tell me I'm your National Anthem

Sugar, sugar, how now

Take your body downtown

Red, white, blue is in the sky

Summer's in the air and

Baby, heaven's in your eyes

I'm your National Anthem

Within seconds of clearing the garage, he had the motorcycle screaming and grinding its gears as he pushed it to its limits from the start. You glanced over your shoulder to see if Tony had heard and if he was watching, but you didn't see him and breathed a quick sigh of relief; the last thing you needed now was for Stark to ruin what was becoming one of the best days that Bucky had lived in a long time. You didn't have to see his face to know that he was smiling; you could feel the deep rumble in his chest when he laughed as he pushed the speed even faster, and when your hands gripped his jacket even tighter in response.

"You okay back there, doll?"

"Always," you called out over the roaring engine, "safest place on Earth."

"You got that right!"

The bike handled expertly under Bucky's control, as if he had been born to drive it. Even when he took a turn onto an uneven dirt road, you barely felt a slip in the tires beneath you as he maneuvered with no drop in speed. Every time your grip clenched tighter, you heard the engine settle just slightly until he felt that you were okay to continue before speeding up again. If he tipped the bike and fell it wouldn't hurt him in the least, but if even for one second he believed that you were at risk or scared, the antics would come to a quick halt.

At the end of the long dirt road, through heavy woods that were so thick that you almost couldn't see the sky past the tree tops, he finally slowed when you arrived at a small and isolated lake, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. You had no idea how long you had been travelling, lost in your thoughts and the sensation of being so close to him. The scene around you looked as if it had been untouched by man, and as if time had stopped here; it was perfect.

"You like?"

"I love it," you nodded, still taking it in, "how did you know about this?"

"Well, just a lucky guess. I haven't been out here in...forever, I guess," he smiled nervously, running a shaky hand through his beautifully messy hair. Bucky pushed himself from the seat, but before you could do the same, he rested a hand on your leg and held you in place, instead turning himself around and sitting in the seat again, this time facing you. "Thank you, (Y/N)."

"You're welcome," you whispered, your voice trembling, "did you like it?"

"I like that you did this for me. I like that you're here." Bucky shifted and pushed his hips forward, getting as close to you as he could; you helped and brought yourself to the edge of your seat so that there was nearly no space between you anymore. "I like you."

I sing the National Anthem

While I'm standing over your body

Hold you like a python

And you can't keep your hands off me

Or your pants on

See what you've done to me

King of Chevron

His hands ran along the tops of your thighs slowly, cautiously, as if they were testing their limits and waiting to be stopped. When you didn't stop him, and instead pulled his gloves off and put your own over them to draw him in closer, they rushed forward and up your sides, around your back, and under your shirt to pull you into him with a low growl from his throat. "Is this okay?"

"What the hell are you stopping for?"

"Fuck if I know," he muttered, crashing his lips to yours, bringing you in even closer until there was no room to move, his arms and mouth now completely in control of you, though you willingly succumbed to it. The metal of his left hand grazed over your warm skin, leaving a chill and a trail of goose bumps behind, and when he felt the shudder of your body next to him, he stopped and pulled back with fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done that."

"Done what?"

"This thing shouldn't touch someone like you," he answered sheepishly and scooting himself away, casting his gaze to the ground, "you're too...I just...I don't want it to." He drew back and took his hands away, trying to slip them into his pockets but you were luckily too quick, grabbing them before he had a chance to react and evade your reach. "(Y/N), come on..."

"You're acting like I didn't know that this was a package deal, Buck."

"You have no idea what this package is, (Y/N)."

You tried to hold the laugh in, you really did, because his face looked so sad, but you couldn't do it, and it burst forth in a harsh snort and a giggle that took him aback enough to jump at the sound. You slapped your hand over your mouth to try to quiet it, but to no avail, only making you laugh that much more. "I'm sorry! I'm not trying to laugh!"

"I sure didn't expect that."

"It's just, okay..." you panted, trying to catch your breath, "okay...my first reaction was to say that I haven't even unwrapped the package yet and now you're taking it back before I get to see it."

"Oh my god, (Y/N), you're terrible."

"Actually, you might be pleasantly surprised, but you're the one who stopped..." you countered, putting his hands back on your waist, your laugh dying away. Your hands stayed over his as you looked at each other, trying to read his mind through his expression, but the book was closed and you struggled to wait patiently for him to open it to his next words.

"That was a mistake..." he inhaled softly, caution in his expression, "that I won't make again. There's no stopping this now, sweetheart. The ride is just beginning."

It's a love story for the new age

For the sixth page

We're on a quick sick rampage

Wining and dining

Drinking and driving

Excessive buying

Overdose and dyin'

On our drugs and our love

And our dreams and our rage

Blurring the lines between real and the fake

Dark and lonely

I need somebody to hold me

He will do very well

I can tell, I can tell