Part 20: you should never know (how easy you are to need)

                                    

                                          
18  WARNING MINORS DNI


Oklahoma

Bucky drives for 18 hours straight as soon as they hit the road in New Mexico - well, almost 18 hours straight. They pull over a few times to stretch their legs and grab some sandwiches from a gas station. Alice naps in the passenger seat when she can while Bucky traces tiny hearts just above her knee with the tip of his finger. He doesn't wear his right glove in the car. 
He's fun to roadtrip with - well, as fun as a 97-year-old former assassin who knows nothing about the modern world can be. Alice likes showing him new stuff. His reactions range from a big, beautiful smile to a suspicious glare.
He's not the biggest fan of Alice's music choices at times, frowning at her playlists, but he never outwardly complains about anything she does. She thinks it's funny. The more she gets to know him, the more she sees a man with a sarcastic, biting wit. This trip is a chance to get to spend some real quality time with him. In so many ways, Bucky still feels like a stranger to her - a very hot stranger with a metal arm that she lets fuck her on a regular basis, but still. 
She's learned some things about him, though. She's learned that he's quick and really funny. She's learned that he complains a lot, but it's not in an annoying way, it's... just Bucky. 
"Who the hell is driving in front of us?" He grumbles. "A goddamn dog with no sense of direction?"
"It's Oklahoma, so you might be right about that. Just go around them. The other lane is clear."
He huffs softly and veers around the vehicle. Sure enough, the driver looks like he's about a thousand years old with huge coke bottle glasses on - that he's squinting through. Bucky shakes his head and steps on the gas, his right arm jutting out across Alice's chest to keep her from flying out of her seat. 
"You know that's what seatbelts are for."
He winks at her.
"I'm stronger than a seatbelt, doll."
She kisses his knuckles. He blushes.
"Yes, you are, mon amour."
They drive along an endless highway as the sun begins to go down. The next town is an hour away. Bucky sighs softly.
"I can't even tell where we are anymore. I think we drove past the same cow field four hundred times."
Alice laughs.
"Once again..."
"Oklahoma," they say in unison. 
His complaints are (mostly) endearing, and, usually, muttered under his breath. He hates getting stuck in traffic and he really hates slow drivers. 
The only reason he doesn't pull some straight-up illegal driving stunts is because it could land them both in hot water - especially him. They don't need another cop pulling them over for a busted tail light - which they fixed. Alice took charge and took the car to a mechanic while Bucky stood by, his quiet herculean presence intimidating the mechanic who originally wanted to charge her almost $800 to fix the tail light, along with a bunch of other shit that wasn't actually wrong with the car. 
She's learned that Bucky is protective, especially of her. There's also an extremely passionate man underneath his steely gaze and gruff exterior. She can tell by the way his gentle kisses turn heated at a moment's notice, and suddenly she's up against a wall or being ushered into the backseat of the car. Bucky is never rough or vicious with her. He makes love to her, whispering the sweetest things in her ear as he fucks her senseless. Slowly, of course. It's always slow and sensual with Bucky, as though he's savoring every second of pleasure he can get. He's been denied it for so long, and now that he's with her, he's desperate for it. Alice doesn't mind. It's nice to be treated the way she's always deserved to be treated in the bedroom.