imaginebucky:

On the upside, the chance that either of them will be recognised in a crowd like this is next to nil.

On the downside…

“I think I’m losing circulation,” says Bucky, wincing as he tries to surreptitiously rearrange himself inside his skinny jeans. “What the fuck are we going to do if we have to run?”

“It’s stretch denim,” says Steve. “It’s supposed to be really comfortable.” Even to his own ears, the words sound unconvincing. “Natasha says you get used to it.”

“Natasha has less equipment to worry about,” says Bucky grimly.

The streets around them churn with activity, a vast sea of polyester and drugstore makeup. Evac is on its way; Clint phoned in five minutes ago to let them know he’s lost his tail and is en route to rendezvous. All Steve and Bucky have to do is keep out of view and make it to the parking lot to meet him.

Steve’s jacket stretches tight across his shoulder. When he swings his arms, the seams make an ominous straining sound. They only had a few minutes and an understaffed Hot Topic to assemble their disguise. 

“And these shoes,” Bucky goes on, voice quavering with indignation - or maybe it’s just the chafing. “Where are the laces? They’re gonna slip right off my feet any second now.”

“I know, pal,” says Steve, and claps him on the shoulder. The movement nearly does it in for his seams. “I know.”