"Hey, James, I found you a job." Tony comments, waving a paper at the brunette. James leans forwards, intrigue dancing in his blue-grey eyes.

"Oh, really? Directed by whom?" He inquires, tilting his head, a lock of brown hair falling into his eye.

"Uh, directed by a Steven Rogers." He reads, handing the brunette the paper. James reads it quietly, his eyebrow raising a little.

"Not bad. When do I go in?" He asks, looking at his agent, Tony Stark. Snarky, sassy and a sarcastic a**, Tony's been with him for as long as he's been an actor; since he's been fifteen years old.

Story was, he wanted to be an actor, and his family life sucked; mom an alcoholic, his dad died when he was young; so he ran away. Somehow, an agency found him, took him in and he got to live out his dream.

"Tuesday, I got you set up for an audition and a meeting with the director. You're welcome, kid." He muses, James smiles a little at him.

"Thanks, Tony." He hums, Tony winks and nods, he rubs his goatee. James checks the clock on the wall and sighs, he gathers papers together, compiles them and puts them quickly in his knapsack.

"Got somewhere to be?" Tony says, pretending to sound hurt. James rolls his eyes playfully, shrugging his coat and scarf on.

"Yup." He replies, popping the 'p'. Tony nods, he fixes his tie.

"Okay. See you, kiddo." He hums, James smirks and salutes before sauntering out the door.

////

Monday morning and James was getting nervous, but excited as well. He'd heard a great many things about the director, he'd done a lot of movies, and almost all of them were well rated. He wanted to get the role really badly, he think it'd be fun.

James' role in the film was to play an assassin, who's been brainwashed into betraying and trying to kill his best friend. Along the way he picks up men and women alike (he plays a player), and they stop the evil Nazi-grouped crew of Hydra.

"You'll be fine, James." His best friend, Natasha Romanov, sighs. He leans over his knees and rubs his hands together anxiously, licking his lips.

"I really wanna get this role, 'Tasha, what if I'm not good enough?" He worries, she tucks a strand of her perfectly straight red hair behind her ear, her dark green eyes looking at him.

"You'll. Be. Fine." She pronounces clearly, putting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it. He sighs and nods slowly.

"Besides, even if I don't get the job there are always others, right?" He says, trying to be hopeful. She smiles and nods. She looks down at her watch then back up at James.

"I gotta go, James. Good luck with your audition." She hums, kissing his forehead before starting to saunter off.

"What happened to you'll be fine?" He calls after her. She turns and gives him a small smirk before leaving. He smiles to himself, then drums his fingers on his knees. Shaking his head, he grabs his laptop and drags it over onto his lap, he turns it on then Google's Steven Rogers.

James' eyes widen at what he sees; tall, strong, blue-eyed and blonde-haired, there was a photo of Steven when he was an actor in some surfer movie. He looked good.

"Holy cow." James whispers to himself, scrolling through and seeing all the work he's done, all the movies. He pauses when there's a small biography about him, he reads it through, then feels for the guy. His dad died when he was six and his mom died when he was about nineteen, twenty. He was a small kid then, weak and sickly, but he just trained and an american beauty was created. Known by Steve to his friends, he can be a gentle giant (tall at six foot two) and he can be scary when he's mad. Luckily this guy's pretty chill.

James blows out a breath and switches off his laptop, sliding it away. He rubs his face and sighs, hoping he gets the job. More often than not, James freaked out over these things and more often than not ended up getting the part. Most times.

He looks around his empty apartment and sighs, getting up. He scratches the back of his neck and wanders upstairs and flops onto his empty, cold bed. It wasn't that late according to the clock, but James didn't care. He slides his shirt off, shoes and socks, then gets into pajama bottoms them crawls into bed, burying under the covers. He doesn't fall asleep for a while, but when he does he has vivid dreams.

/////

Tuesday rolls around and James was still asleep at ten in the morning, he was supposed to be leaving at eleven. He rolls over and checks the clock, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He blinks to clear the fuzziness away and the green numbers sharpen into view. James stares at it a moment before bolting out of bed.

"Crap!" He hisses as he yanks some pants on, grabbing a belt and buckling it up. He races to his closet and searches around for a top, finally finding a regular black long sleeve. He shrugs it on, then yanks on socks, quickly checking the clock. Ten fifteen.

He groans to himself and thunders down the stairs, and he nearly steps on a cat.

"Hey cat." He huffs without realizing it. Then he pauses in mid step and looks at the cat, frowning a little. He didn't own a cat. Shaking his head he slows down a little and heads to the kitchen, quickly making himself some toast and coffee then wrinkling his nose at the bad flavor mix that made.

"You're gonna be late." Natasha calls him, he was brushing his teeth and holding the phone to his ear.

"Yes, Tasha, thanks for the info, I got it." He huffs, the cat he saw earlier was weaving around his legs.

"And what's with the cat?" He adds, rinsing his mouth out and spitting into the sink.

"You looked lonely." She says innocently, but James could tell she was smirking. He rolls his eyes and puts his toothbrush away.

"I gotta go, talk to you later, okay?" He says quickly, pulling some shoes on and then a dark jacket.

"Don't mess up!" She chimes before hanging up. He sighs and makes sure he has everything he needs. The cat pounces on his leg and he yelps, not expecting that. He scowls down at it and carefully shakes it off. He didn't wanna hurt it. It jumps off and hisses before licking its paw.

"Bye, Sourpuss." He mumbles, grabbing his bag before leaving and closing the door behind him.

////

"Hey, Maria, got the new actors for me?" Steven Rogers asks his secretary, sauntering into the studios, a bag slung over his shoulder and a coffee in his hand. Maria Hill tucks a dark strand of hair behind her ear and hands him some files.

"Got 'em right here, chief." She responds, he nods and flips through. He pauses on a man named Grant Ward, then on a man named James Barnes, or Bucky to his friends.

"Hmm. Alright, good. Thanks." He says, smiling a little. She nods curtly before starting to sashay off.

"And Maria?" He calls, she turns to look at him.

"Try not to scare them off. You can smile, you know." He teases, she rolls her eyes but smiles a little before turning and sauntering off, her black heels clicking. Steve checks the time and nods to himself, it was about eleven fifteen. The first person he'd be meeting comes in; dark eyes, a goatee on a fine jaw and spiked black hair. That would be Grant Ward. They meet and chat and he seemed a good choice.

////

James races into the room, huffing. He fixes his hair, fixes himself up then enters. He was late. He looks towards the table and spots none other than Steven Rogers sitting at the table, doing paperwork and sipping at some coffee. James draws in a breath before walking in and clearing his throat. The blonde director looks up.

"Hi, Mr. Rogers?" James says, shouldering his bag firmly. The blonde smiles and nods, he gets up.

"Please, just call me Steve. You must be James Barnes." Steve muses, shaking his hand. James nods.

"I'm so sorry I'm late." He says apologetically, the blonde smiles a little.

"Well, you're here now." The blonde says, taking a seat. The brunette follows suit, taking a seat diagonal to him.

"Why do you want this role in particular?" The blonde questions, cocking his head. They'd been talking for about half an hour up 'til now.

"It seems like a great opportunity to have, it might improve my acting skills, and I think it'd be fun." He replies. The blonde nods to himself and writes it down.

"Okay. Next, can you do a blank face?" He asks, the brunette nods then demonstrates. His face was stoic, emotionless, when there had been an easy-going smile beforehand. His eyes were blank, and the blonde was impressed with that. Not many actors could wipe emotion from their eyes, that was the tricky part. Steve raises an eyebrow and writes this down too, James relaxes.

"That's pretty good. I don't wanna promise anything but you have a pretty good chance. We'll call you if we're sure." Steve assures, James nods. He looked relieved.

"Great, thank you." He smiles, the blonde returns the smile. He reaches across and shakes his hand, James and he stand up before letting go.

"Yeah, no problem. Maybe we'll see you back here." Steve shrugs, James nods.

"Hopefully." He muses, before smiling and walking out. Steve watches him go, thinking about who to pick. Ward or Barnes? They were both good choices. He shakes his head and finishes his coffee.

////

James comes home and sighs, taking his bag off and dropping it beside the couch. The cat (which he decided to name Sourpuss), was meowing loudly and repeatedly, rubbing against James' legs and weaving between them.

"Hi, Sourpuss." He sighs, flopping onto his couch. He ruffles his hair and rests his head on the back of the couch. Sourpuss hops onto him and starts kneading his stomach with her claws. James huffs and picks Sourpuss up, she blinks lazily and licks her chaps. He sticks his tongue out at her and she bats at his tongue. James puts her down and she leaps off the couch, shaking her fur.

The phone rings and James springs up, he grabs the phone and answers it.

"Hello? Yes, this is him. Uh huh. Oh, really? That's amazing, uh, okay, so I'll come by on Friday? Next Friday. Okay, great, thanks so much. G'bye." He hangs up and gives a cheer, putting the phone down. He'd gotten the part.

"Yes!" He cheers triumphantly, pumping a fist in the air. Sourpuss meows lazily and hops onto the fridge from the counter. James doesn't even care.

////

"Good to see you here on time, James." Steve says, walking forward with a smile on his face as he approaches the newest cast member. James smiles shyly in return and nods, running a hand through his hair which hung in his face a little, he needed to get a trim.

"Call me Bucky." James invites with a grin, the blonde smiles and nods.

"Right. Okay, Bucky, meet the cast. This here is Sharon Carter," he introduces, gesturing to a woman with dirty blonde hair wearing a pantsuit. She smirks a little at James and waves her fingers at him. He nods at her. "This is Sam Wilson, and this is Brock Rumlow." The next few are read out. Brock smiles darkly at him and James swalllows, but nods at him.

////

Over the next few months of filming Steve and Bucky simply got closer, and closer together. They went out for coffee, then ironically, they went and watched movies together. Brock seemed a little peeved... then again, he always seemed peeved.

Bucky was on his way to where he was staying during shooting when Brock grabbed him by the fabric of his jacket and pulled him off to the side where nobody was.

"Hey! What's your deal?" Bucky hisses at him, jerking away from him. Brock growls something before swinging a punch, Bucky's eyes widen and he ducks to the side to avoid it.

Brock knees him in the gut and Bucky keels over, coughing. Brock jerks his elbow up and bashes it into Bucky's face, his nose snaps and Bucky yelps, eyes watering and blood pouring from his nose. Brock kicks him to the ground then just keeps kicking him, Bucky curls up and wraps his arms around his head to protect it. After a while Brock saunters off, leaving Bucky alone and gasping.

He coughs and spits a wad of blood out, he makes a gagging noise, it was so gross. He rolls over onto his knees, clutching his ribs. He struggles to his wobbly feet and leans against the wall behind him, clutching it for support. He closes his eyes a moment to try to ignore the pain before opening them again. He pushes off the wall and heads off to his place.

It was nighttime when Bucky heard the knock, he looks over from where he'd been sitting on the couch, not bothering wearing a shirt. He looks around for a shirt and yanks it on, makes sure there's no trace of blood from his nose, then gets up and opens the door to see Steve standing there with a bouquet of flowers.

"Hi." Steve smiles shyly and hands him the flowers. Bucky smiles and goes closer, he hugs him and Steve pauses a moment before hugging back.

"Hi." Bucky whispers, letting himself relax for the first time since he was beat up. He pulls back, smiling at Steve happily. They join hands and they go off on their date, just to the movies. The pair really enjoyed themselves and they watched the movie Annie. Right after that Bucky wanted to adopt a redhead girl with curly hair. Steve smiled at his adorableness.

They get back to Bucky's place and the brunette invites him in for a while, he didn't want the night to end just yet. So Steve comes in and they hang out for a while. It was nice and Bucky didn't want Steve to go, but eventually he had to.

////

"Brock! Don't stare at the camera, please!" Steve calls, Brock nods curtly and doesn't. Bucky looks at him and swallows, staying in his position. He hadn't told anyone about the beating Brock gave him, and the past few weeks it'd happened several more times.

Steve noticed how Bucky tried to ignore Brock now, and how he flinched a little if someone raised a hand to him. He frowns a little but waits, waits to see how everything plays out.

They finish up for the day and Bucky heads off, Brock follows and Steve frowns. He waits for a little bit before following along.

"Brock, just back off! What did I do?" He hears Bucky ask, there's a smack and a thud and Bucky starts coughing. Steve clenches his jaw and rounds the corner to see Brock kicking him repeatedly in the stomach, then grab him by the hair and shove him up against the wall.

"Hey!" Steve shouts and Brock freezes, Bucky looked semi-conscious, blood dribbling down his face from a cut in his head. Steve goes over and Brock stares at him defiantly.

"Put him down. And if I ever see you lay a finger on him again, I'm calling the police and you're done. Do you understand?" Steve hisses. Brock drops Bucky and the brunette falls to the ground, coughing again. He storms off and the blonde watches him dissapear from view before kneeling beside Bucky.

"Buck, I'm so sorry." Steve sighs, the brunette swallows and the blonde pulls him up. Bucky's head swims and he blinks hard to try to clear it. Steve puts an arm around him and they get up, Bucky leaning against him.

"Had 'im on the ropes, Steve." The brunette mumbles, his head resting on the blonde's shoulder.

"I know you did." Steve replies, he leads Bucky to where he was staying. The brunette sags against him and Steve sighs, he gets him on the couch and goes to fetch his first aid kit.

The brunette leans forward and holds his head in his hands, closing his eyes. Steve comes back with a first aid kit and kneels in front of Bucky. The brunette lifts his head and Steve starts cleaning up the cut along his hairline.

"He beat the crap outta me, huh?" Bucky mutters, Steve shrugs and puts a bandage on his cut, smoothing it down with his thumb.

"Well, I guess. How long has this been going on?" Steve asks, making sure he doesn't have any other cuts or noticeable injuries. Bucky bites his lower lip a little and gives a nonchalant shrug. Steve watches him quietly.

"Gee, look at the time, I'd better start-" Bucky begins, looking at his bare wrist, Steve gives him a look.

"Bucky, I'm serious." Steve sighs, watching him.

"Hi, serious, I'm Bucky." The brunette retorts, Steve rolls his eyes and leans up, he places his lips over Bucky's and the brunette's eyes widen, they've never kissed on their dates. Bucky's eyes slip closed and he kisses back, his cheeks heating up.

The blonde pulls away and Bucky opens his blue-grey eyes, he stares at Steve. The blonde blushes and rubs the back of his neck.

"Oops?" He shrugs, Bucky rolls his eyes and smiles. He pulls Steve back in and kisses him again. The blonde kisses back, his hands tangling in his short brown hair. Bucky hums something and pulls away after a minute or two.

"So, how long?" Steve asks. Bucky sighs before answering.

"Three months? It's really not a big deal, Steve." He huffs. The blonde sighs.

////

It'd been several months and they were almost finished with the movie; filming had finished and now they were constructing the actual movie, adding in music, timing, all that jazz and stuff. Brock hadn't bothered him again, not that Steve had heard of anyway.

He sneaks up behind Bucky and picks him up, the brunette yelps. Steve grins and the brunette twists around, a relaxed smile crosses his face as he sees the blonde.

"Oh. Hi there." He hums, wrapping his arms around him. Steve smile and kisses him gently, Bucky hums and kisses back. Brock walks by and snorts, looking at them. Bucky's put down and he scratches his head with his middle finger, which was pointing in Brock's direction. Brock huffs and storms off.

They go on another date that night. Steve drops him off at his place after they get back after the movies and Bucky stays home, Steve turns and goes to his own place.

Brock was waiting. Bucky clenches his jaw and tightens his hands into fists, standing bravely with his head held high against Brock.

"Hit me. This time I'll go to the police." Bucky states, Brock glares at him. He raises his fist.

"You don't have the guts to go to the cops." He huffs, punching him in the face. Bucky rakes the hit but retaliated and knees him where it hurts, then jerks his foot up and kicks him in the mouth. Brock hisses out a swear and clutches his mouth, spitting out a bloody tooth. Bucky grabs him and throws him out of his place.

He brushes his hands off, sniffs and nods to himself with satisfaction.

"Ha." He says out loud, looking out the window and relaxing when he sees Brock's retreating form. The police are notified and Brock is carted off to jail for assault and abuse.

////

The movie is finished and gets great reviews. Bucky is nominated as best actor of the year reward and Steve is nominated best director. He was proud of the brunette, and the brunette was proud of him. They eventually moved in together and got married; they adopted a little girl named Ivy who also got into the acting business, she had curly red hair. They lived good, long lives.