fossilised | For Steve

What could he do for Bucky? Steve n get gave up and he certainly wasn't going to give up now, but it in was his head that there was only one problem and one factor that kept making Bucky's life difficult for him and that was him. He wasn't so foolish as to believe himself above all of that and he was trying to help in the only way he knew how.

By being selfless.

Funny how selflessness always amounted to selfishness though? The corners of Steve's lips trembled. "I know you didn't, pal. I'm trying to think big picture here. I'm going to slow you down. I'm going to be a way for them to track you." He was a liability. He hated to think of it that way but it was true.

Steve closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"I know there's always something more a person can do, and that looking backward doesn't give you insight into what's coming all the time but I can't just sit here and not tell you what I think just because I'm scared you'll leave. You need to have all of the options. All of them. Even the ones that don't include me."

Steve had the weakest body and the strongest will of anyone alive. Past or present or future.

"We have to come up with a way to make sure you keep your freedom. And that means looking at all the options."

Bucky still didn't want an awful lot for himself. He didn't ask for a roof over his head or regular food, he didn't ask for health or happiness, all he wanted was freedom and Steve. It seemed, therefore, the height of cruelty that Steve should suggest he might be better off away even if there were logical reasons behind it.

A low almost growl escaped Bucky's throat and he surged to his feet in one graceful movement, like a predatory big cat that had spotted prey. He grasped Steve by the shoulders, cautious of his broken arm, and manoeuvred him up to his feet too to press him back against the wall. Close, bodies near enough flush, and deep blue eyes meeting much more vivid ones intensely.

"It's not an option."

For once he was giving the orders, but he needed Steve to understand.

"You're the anchor that keeps me human and the reason to stay free. I don't want to run alone any more, I don't want to leave you behind. I don't even remember you, most of you, and I don't know why... but I need you. I'm not letting you go."

There were two things running congruently through Steve’ mind as he found himself standing on his toes between the wall and a wad of impossibly solid muscle. Firstly, he wondered if he was about to have Bucky lose himself or try to intimidate him. It would make sense if either happened. Bucky mentioned a trigger and Steve didn’t know what it was and might have managed it without realizing. He had only himself to blame for that. Bucky, he knew, would never raise a hand to him in anger and would never intentionally hurt him. That made the gentle way he lifted him a bit suspect to that particular theory. If Bucky was being gentle now, he’d continue to be.

With fear ruled out almost immediately, Steve tried to do the same with the flash of desire he felt racing up his spine. He told himself that the adrenaline he was feeling was the fight or flight response, that he was amped up and needing a release of energy, even if the reason was not entirely the truth.

"I don't want you to let me go." Steve watched Bucky's face, eyes wide and confused by the betrayal of his body. He shook, no. Trembled. And that was so much worse and came with so much more baggage. What was he supposed to do to fix this?

Steve swallowed and looked up at Bucky.

“I want you help you remember,” he replied, trying to be calm. It didn’t quite work. “Or if you can’t… You can get to know me again.” He would not again suggest that Bucky leave him. Not even for his own good.

That's what he wanted too. An understanding that even if he couldn't remember, even if those pieces of himself stayed buried forever, that he would be allowed to stay and build new memories. Maybe he'd even learn to smile again one day. Maybe even laugh. He sagged in relief, bending so his forehead briefly touched Steve's.

"Good."

That was settled then, he would stay and they would figure out how to do this together, wherever that turned out to be.

"We have to stay around this area, Erskine's research..."

He knew it was important to Steve to become Captain America. Maybe not for the muscles or the strength or even the health, but because it was his ticket to helping other people in the way he had always dreamed of. For however much he wanted Steve, Bucky didn't want to be responsible for destroying his dreams.

The sudden dip of Bucky's face towards his own left Steve in a tizzy. His heart rate spiked and his pupils were blown wide open as he waited for something that, logically, would never happen even if Steve's illicit fantasy was suddenly called full into question. Bucky was going to miss him. Bucky was going to kiss him!

But it didn't happen. Their foreheads touched instead and Steve felt the chill of it all slide down his back the opposite direction it had come up from. He dropped himself to his heels and let out an exasperated huff. He was angry with himself. He was disgusted by his own mind. He needed to do better.

"Erskine's research doesn't matter to me," Steve said, which wasn't quite true but he was wit so very flustered. "I mean-- it's not... Maybe I should make sure... I could handle you better if I was like him, right? Keep you safer...? My neck will be so thick." He didn't expect Bucky to laugh but he needed to break the tension here.

He didn't laugh, but something slightly softer appeared in his eyes. If they remained together for very long, Steve would start to recognise the subtle shifts between micro-expressions until even the tiniest widening of his eyes might seem akin to terror or the most minute twitch of his lips to be full blown laughter.

"It does matter to you. You're a hero."

Not that he wants to be a hero, that he is a hero.

"You've always been a hero, I know that even if I can't remember, and it's important to you to get the body to help you do what you've always wanted to do. It's not enough just to protect me, Steve, you want to protect the world."

"You've been my world for as long as I've known you," Steve blurted out they were still in too close proximity for him to do much of anything but say exactly what was on his mind, though he needed to clamp on down on that and figure out a way to slide out from between Bucky and the wall.

He was only in a hospital gown. It was not doing a lot to hide some reactions.

"But... Uh yeah. Right now, the only thing I want to champion is something for dinner." His smile was crooked, and kind, and sweet and horribly embarrassed. "And maybe some pants. My bag is in my room?"

The more layers of clothing, the better.

"You're still attracted to me."

Bucky's observation was sudden and definitely didn't make him move away. If anything, it made him more curious, for who could find a weapon attractive? Even after Steve had heard everything about him, about how he had been defiled and tortured, he still thought that his friend was arousing to be around.

He ducked his head further and tested it out, not really thinking about it, brushing his lips up against Steve's. No real passion behind it, but oddly gentle as if he wanted to be sure that Steve knew he wouldn't harm him.

Steve flattened his face into his chin, nose wrinkling. Why was this something that kept coming up? He knew he was terrible at hiding it but Bucky really needed to learn not to call attention to these things. Steve was doing his best here. It was a little new to him. He was sure that if the other Bucky had known, and maybe he did, he would just ignore it and let Steve keep his dignity.

But no. Huffing, Steve swallowed a rise of bile back down where it belonged, his fingertips lightly pressing back against the wall, poised perhaps to help him duck away from the other man.

He tried a shallow laugh. "Buck-- I'm sorry. I'm trying not to be. I'm really trying to stop it, I know it's inappropriate and considering what you went through, I completely understand if--" Soft lips cut him off, but not in words.

It didn't matter if there wasn't passion in that soft kiss because it was better than what Steve had imagined kissing would be lip. It tingled in all of the best way, stealing his breath and causing his eyes to close. His body might have stiffened, but that was only because he didn't know what to do. In movies, there was a lot of arm movements and head tilts. He'd seen Bucky kiss girls a few times, but only on the cheek. No girl would ever let herself be kissed in public any other way.

Steve's eyebrows furrowed as Bucky pulled back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered immediately, hand covering his lips to keep the illicit warmth there.

Steve tasted of mint and asthma cigarettes, a weird blend of herbal and medicinal tastes, with an underlying warmth that seemed all him. It hit Bucky like a fist directly to the solar plexus and, even if he had never tasted it before to feel familiar, it still dislodged some memories from wherever they had been hiding in his head.

"You bought my first pair of boxing gloves for when I wanted to go pro. You spent your food money on it that week, thought I wouldn't notice you eating ketchup packets from the diner."

His words were soft, before he bent again to capture Steve's lips more insistently. If he had heard the apology or the excuses then they didn't register with him. He didn't want to trap Steve, and definitely not force him, but he was not making it that easy to get away.

It was strange to hear that as a response. One didn't normally tell an apologizing man about the time he'd been gifted gloves. Steve's eyes had softened as he spoke and his lips had parted ever so slightly because he had been about to mention that he hadn't just been eating ketchup packets but also honey and grape jelly which, if you asked him, did make an interesting and filling meal. He would have followed thst up with saying that Bucky had needed those gloves because his own were ratty and no amount of wrapping up his hands would have saved him in the ring without the right equipment. He'd get two punches in and break a wrist, ending his career. He might even have mentioned that he was so happy to hear he remembered something, but speaking when there were insistent lips against your own was not as effective as having to only worry about one pair.

This was insanity, he thought to himself before his thoughts dissolved away. How the heck was this even happening? God was going to strike them down!

Or worse, he might get some strange idea that kissing Bucky was unlocking his memories. Steve didn't want to think of himself as some fairytale princess. And he absolutely did not want to think of Bucky Barnes as Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, waiting for a kiss to stir them from their slumber.

His hand finally gripped Bucky's arm, the metal one, and slipped up to his shoulder. Steve exhaled through his nose and breathed Bucky in, sweat and determination and strength. He countered it with the utmost sweetness and would continue to do so until this hazy, beautiful dream ended.

This time Bucky was more focused on himself than Steve, on seeing if this did knock anything else loose in his head. But this wasn't a fairytale, and he wasn't Sleeping Beauty to have his true self awoken after a kiss. He was a damaged man and Steve was just that important to him.

Not that the kiss was unpleasant, Steve's lips were soft and warm, he didn't feel threatening up against Bucky, and so he sparked no feelings of anything but comfort and security until he pulled away. It was then, for the first time, that the tiniest little smile appeared at the corners of Bucky's lips.

"I don't think I mind."

Being found attractive, he meant. Not by Steve, anyway.

"Better you than a waitress."

"You must have kissed some pretty awful waitresses then," Steve shot right back, though he couldn't help but feel happy and centered. Maybe it would all flood in later and really mess him up or make him feel bad or afraid for what he'd done, but right now he felt fantastic and no amount of Christian guilt was going to weigh him down.

This chance at seeing Bucky smile actually had Steve laughing and he lightly pushed back on that metal arm to slip out from where he had been pinned.

"I'm still gonna put some pants on," he said, holding the back of his gown closed. "And I really think we both could use something to eat. Not just ketchup packets...?"

They would have such a large place in his heart now, honestly. Just a conclusion to a kiss, but certainly the best one he'd ever had.

And no. It hardly mattered that Bucky had taken up the first at all.

At least Steve's bag of clothes was in the bedroom, not that he had many that weren't threadbare or hung too big on his skinny frame, but they had to be better than a backless hospital gown. At least Bucky let Steve go and didn't pursue him, not quite the rogue of old who might not let a potential conquest get away that easily. Not that he had ever pushed where he wasn't wanted, but he hadn't given up right away either.

"What if he's out there, watching for us?"

He scrubbed a hand across his face, some of the tension returning once more now that he thought about leaving their fortified sanctuary. Even if the other Steve wasn't looking for him yet, surely he would want to seek out the skinny version of himself to make sure that he had spoken to Bucky as requested.

Once his pants were on, Steve came back out of the room, pulling the gown out from under the waist band. "He said it was almost impossible to track you. I think he only found me because of hospital records. There's no way he could find us here."

Steve was pretty sure of that. There was nothing to link him to this apartment unless Bucky put it in their real names. He'd been on the run for a long time though. He had to know how to protect his identity and stay hidden.

Steve felt both shy and utterly like a peacock, wanting to strut around Bucky right now. He settled for half smiling with his arms crossed over his chest.

It might have been for the best if Bucky were brave enough to talk to the other Steve, to get him to walk away himself, but he couldn't do it. He had so much fear that he wouldn't just find Steve waiting there, or that he wouldn't give up on Bucky that easily, or even that he himself wouldn't be able to walk away again with strong resolve once he had come face to face with his best friend.

"Alright."

He was going to trust Steve on this for now. If they got found, though, either one of them, he would have to take them much deeper undercover and find a way to change their whole identities.

"Does your arm hurt?"

"A little." Which meant a whole, whole lot. The ache was turning more into a shooting pain, but Steve was doing his best to suck it up. That's just what men did. They sucked it all up and held it in until they were alone. Or so movies and the guys in his classes taught him. "I'm more hungry than anything." He couldn't get his belt on, but he assumed that his coat would cover up any unseemliness. "We should go and eat. Everything else will be taken care of as we go."

They'd been relying on each other for almost two weeks now, but it felt like a life time to Steve. Bucky had not always been like this, but he was still Bucky and he still had long summers and longer winters of memories of the two of them together. He trusted Bucky implicitly, despite their setbacks and despite the way that kiss was making him feel, and he knew that they would be all right as long as they stayed together and kept working as a team.

"What's in the neighborhood? I didn't get a good look at anything while you were pretending to be a trolley," he quipped with a friendly, if somewhat pained smile.

Bucky might not remember Steve as well as he would like to, but he knew enough to recognise that smile for what it was. He was pretending not to hurt. Maybe for his own pride, maybe for Bucky's sake so that he wouldn't worry. A flash of memory came to him, Steve pale and drawn, the rattle of his breathing suggesting there was fluid on his lungs, still smiling as if nothing was wrong.

"You need to tell me when it hurts," he said, a quiet admonishment. "You don't have to bear this alone, you never have. I'm with you til the end of the line, pal."

The words just came out, almost on autopilot, but they felt right. The same words he had said when Steve had lost his Mom and refused to rely on anyone, the same words that Steve had parroted back at him on the helicarrier. They were words that meant something far deeper than just words now.

"C'mere, I'll put your belt on for you."

"It's nothing I can't handle," Steve attempted to interject but Bucky was already out with the line that left him feeling warm and comfortable again. His mom hadn't passed too long ago that it was still raw. But it hasn't been long enough for him not to feel a tinge. He blond tilted his head down before he glanced back up at Bucky and went to fetch the belt that was on the back of the doorknob with one of his shirts. He'd left on the hospital gown because he wouldn't be able to do up the buttons but if Bucky was going to help him out anyway... "It hurts a little, but it's not agony or anything. Just uncomfortable."

He stood in the room that would be his, Bucky's just next door, and worked on untying the gown. The door partially hit him as he struggled, first to pull the garment off and then to get the long sleeved button down shirt on. The sleeve just barely fit over his cast.

it was strange to stand in the hall with Bucky, his shirt left over and his belt in his hand. Steve thought it might make him feel weak to be dressed, or useless, but the truth of the matter was that the brush of Bucky's fingers against his skin as he did up buttons was alluring and having his arms around him to lace the belt was good enough to make Steve miss it when it was over.

"Thanks, Buck. I feel a little more human myself now," he replied softly at the end. They were still standing too close. Or had they always? Memories of every time before now seemed fluid and a little tainted with the feeling of acceptance for what he wanted. And had always wanted.

It was such a small thing for him to give to Steve, being able to be fully dressed in a way that was acceptable by society's standards, but he understood all too well how the small things could make a big difference. So when Steve thanked him and actually used his own words half back at him, Bucky smiled. Really and genuinely smiled.

"You don't look too shabby either."

For just a moment he felt like he belonged somewhere. It was fleeting and it passed quickly, but he wouldn't forget it. When he took himself back and out of Steve's personal space, it was with a tiny sense of loss. That close he was so warm and seemed like an anchor, a rock in the storm, and he could know with absolute certainty that he would be able to protect Steve.

"But you have to tell me when it hurts."

He wasn't going to let that go, he didn't want Steve suffering in silence when Bucky might be able to help him.

"Well that's saying something. I don't remember the last time in washed these clothes." Twice now Steve had seen that smile, a glimmer of a real one, and he could not help himself but smile right back, bigger and brighter than usual. These smiles, once so freely given, we're now precious and rare. He would collect each one in his memory. He didn't want to take full credit for being able to help Bucky in this way, but it still warmed him to know that the sickness he had been reading would infect his best friend actually seemed to be working itself out. Like Bucky said-- what mattered was happiness.

Now if only they could live in the world that Bucky came from, when happiness was acceptable!

"All right, all right. No need to strong arm me. It hurts," Steve confided, making one last tuck of his shirt into his pants. "It's just a really deep ache right now. It hasn't gotten too sharp yet." His last dose of pain killers was just about eight hours ago now, and soon the ache would ramp up and he'd be in agony.

That too, Steve would take with grace.

Maybe they could live in Bucky's world. What was there for Steve here but a possibility of a project that might never come to fruition? The other Steve must have a way to get back there, a way that he planned on using with Bucky too, so maybe they could all three go. Live in a world where being with another man wasn't the worst sin in the world.

"Food and medicine."

He would find a way to get Steve some proper painkillers considering it was because of him that Steve had left the hospital at all. He opened the door and stepped aside, for all the world as if he were escorting a dame out to dinner.

"If you see anyone-- if we have to run, make your way back here, okay?"

A plan was a good idea. It distracted him from how Bucky was behaving. His mind hadn't caught up quite yet to the possibility that kissing Bucky wasn't going to damn his soul. Being emasculated by being considered the gal about to step out with a handsome GI was maybe a little too over the top. Steve had to prove his masculinity on a daily basis. He wanted to be treated as Bucky had always treated him.

The growl of his stomach did provide a bit of a relief from those thoughts, however, and he accepted Bucky's help into the truck.

"We'll meet back here if we get seperated," he agreed, making sure he watched where they are going as they drove out of their tree lined Washington DC neighborhood towards a little part of town lined with shops. "It's a little too much like home," Steve mused as they drove. "But.... Not. The streets are cleaner. And there isn't as much light."

He didn't quite have his nose pressed to the window but nearly.

"There's no where near as many flowers either. How does a city manage so many people and so much green space?" Steve was just talking out loud as Bucky parked and women in blue and yellow dresses accompanied men in smart suits into a bowling alley or a fancy restaurant or a theater across the way.

Steve couldn't help but love DC.

Bucky had seen a lot of cities in his life throughout the span of decades, and so one more was nothing to him. They all blurred into one eventually, just endless buildings and endless faces, dressed in varying clothes with different skin tones. But to see DC through Steve's eyes, it made it all a little exciting again.

He pulled up outside a little bistro with a striped awning overlooking a little pond, and a gaggle of nicely dressed women inside serving sandwiches and ice cream sundaes to the various patrons. It was the least likely place for anyone to come looking for them, which was why Bucky had chosen it.

"I got some money when I got the truck, real-- I mean, the other money is real, but this is money from this time. So order what you want."

Don't ask him how he did it, Steve would not approve. He had stolen it, the truck too, and made sure neither could be traced down as stolen to either of them. It was just one of his many unsavoury skills.

"Yeah?" It wasn't like Steve could eat a lot anyway, but it was nice to have the option to have more than some soup and coffee. He could slid down from the truck himself and he smiled at a woman in a navy polka dot dress as he held the door for her. She had on these little lacy white gloves that fancy women wore out. It excited him to be having dinner in a place like this.

There was music on inside and people were laughing and joking happily, everyone excited for the end of the war. Rows of men's hard lined the wall and Steve followed a waitress to one of the window seats, feeling very smart for just being in the presence of so many well dressed people.

He sat with a grin at a table with a cotton printed cloth across it and accepted some water and his menu.

"This is-- wow. This is a really great place!" So great that Steve decided to order the meatballs and spaghetti. It was something he hadn't been able to afford in a really long time.

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gdi I thought this posted...

Re: gdi I thought this posted...

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