fossilised | For Steve

Bucky spluttered when the socks hit him in the face, though it didn't wipe the smile away from his expression, instead he just took the socks and wet jeans and t-shirt into the next room to shove them into the laundry basket. He knew it would bother Steve to leave them on the side all clogged up with chlorine water.

That challenge had him running back in, though, the sinewy grace of his muscles shifting beneath his skin obvious now that he was nude, and cannonballing right into the middle of the pool to cause a tidal wave to sweep up and over Steve's head.

"You better run, Steve, because I'm gonna make you wish you were never born."

It took all of Steve's strength to pull himself out of the water (he'd been holding onto the wall and trying not to watch Bucky even as his eyes were drawn to his beauty) and thankfully, the concrete around the edge of the pool made it easy for his bare, wet toes to grip the floor without slipping. He wasn't so lucky on the wood flooring in the next room but he skidded right into carpet and darted through the lounge towards the living room.

He was going outside. Bucky wasn't going to follow him out into the grass, right? Not without clothing on? Steve should have anticipated that his lack of shame was more ingrained than just a comfort level, just as he already knew that there was literally no way to outrun a man that could beat a car down the road at full tilt.

The sun felt blissful on his back and shoulders. The grass, warm, tickled the soles of his feet. The patio door swung behind him, left open as he played a game of tag like he'd never been able to before. His lungs didn't seize. His legs didn't give out.

The future was a beautiful place indeed.

Bucky could have caught Steve before he had even hit the next room, but that wasn't what this was about. This was a game, not a real chase, and it wouldn't be any fun if he caught his prey that quickly. Which is why he was stalking Steve rather than chasing him, following at a light jog instead of a run.

He didn't even hesitate before slipping out of the patio doors naked. He had no shame left to make him wonder if this was okay, he had been so thoroughly dehumanised by the Soviets and by HYDRA that he still struggled to think of himself as human sometimes. And a weapon had no need for embarrassment.

"You should just give up and accept your fate, Steve, I'm going to kill you and it'll be so much more painful if you keep running."

He feinted to the left and then darted at his friend, though not fast enough that Steve wouldn't be able to make another run for it if he wanted.

It was strange to play a game of chase where being caught was something the one running rabbit actually wanted. He new Bucky would be gentle about it, not just bulldoze him over. Laying in the grass with Bucky would be the perfect end to the perfect morning.

Instead, Steve ended up sliding forward in utter shock as a flying, red skinned metal man dropped out of the sky between Bucky and himself. Tony was actually still chewing the last thing he had put in his mouth before he heard those dangerous words about Bucky killing Steve and didn't speak right away as he cut off the man's pursuit on his formerly fleeing bestie.

And that was enough time for a now slightly muddy Steve Rogers to kick up grass as he rushed to put himself between the monster and his friend. "Woah!"

Tony almost choked. "Woah yourself, Short Round. Out of the way so I can get on protecting yo--". Tony groaned and dropped his arm, the face plate flying up. "Are you two twelve? Seriously? Are you playing Naked Tag? Is that a game from the 40s I've never heard about?"

And just like that, the good atmosphere shattered. It had been the longest that they had gone in a relaxed mood, the closest that Bucky had come to being a person rather than a hollow shell, and Tony's presence had ruined it. What had been a joking posture of attack now became a real one, with Bucky lowering his centre of gravity and taking up a ready stance.

Being naked didn't matter, he could still tear this suit apart one piece at a time if he had to, and he would if Tony didn't back the hell off right now.

"Step back and away from Steve. Now."

Protect him? What had Iron Man come to protect Steve from? For a moment he almost looked for invaders, before his mind caught up to him and-- oh. They thought he had been genuinely trying to hurt his friend, and how could he blame them? It still hurt, though.

"Hey. Hold your damned horses, Barnes. I'm not the one shouting about killing people. No one is hurting anyone here." Tony couldn't help but grin at Steve though. And maybe waggle his eyebrows as the armor opened and he stepped out through the back. "Fly on home little bird," he said, hands in his pockets as the armor flew off. "Cool huh? I let JARVIS drive. So you're Steve Rogers from before the rippling biceps and the motorcycle curls. Wow. Nice to meet you finally. Tony Stark. You almost were friends with my dad."

He even offered his hand. Because be could. Because Steve couldn't harbor any weird diseases. Probably. He was still dripping wet anyway.

Steve's muscles relaxed and he blinked languidly up at the older man with the really funny beard. "Uh... Um. Oh sorry. This is your house right, thanks for letting us use it. Bucky wasn't going to hurt anyone. Promise. He's not like that. We were just... Goofing off. Sorry, sir."

He did move to shake Tony's hand though.

Edited 2017-02-16 21:00 (UTC)

Bucky stood to attention with every muscle coiled beneath his skin so that he looked like a big cat ready to pounce on its prey. Not that he made an aggressive move towards Tony, or tried to stop Steve from introducing himself, but his eyes tracked every tiny movement and he was clearly ready to intervene if he had to.

"Yeah, thank you."

He at least had enough left in his manners to join in on that, considering that this was Tony's house and they were living in it without paying anything where everything was provided for them.

"How long are you planning to let us stay?"

As he shook Steve's hand, Tony's eyes remained on Bucky. Their dynamic so strange, like Bucky had become a familiar to Steve. Or was his bodyguard in the sense that Kevin Costner was Whitney Houston's. He was pretty sure this wasn't normal, for men to run around so undressed, but he was t going to judge.

Okay. Yes he was. But silently. And only to Cap later in amusement.

Tony held his hand out to Bucky as well. He wished that men shook left hands. Damn. He wanted to see that arm up close.

"Hey. I don't live here. Most of the gang does though. And that's technically Banner's lab and bungalow. A little experimental facility of mine. All new materials. Stuff that can't be easily broken. And you can stay until you want to leave. No skin off my nose. You could move into the main building too if you want. Cap's in charge here. I just build and bankroll the place. Wow. So you're really him. You have the bluest eyes. I'm sorry. That's going to come off flirting. And I'm not. I have a girlfriend. But wow. Okay. So I'll let you guys go back to Grecian tag."

Steve just blinked.

"And I thought people from Brooklyn spoke fast."

Part of Bucky had wondered if what he had seen on the news about Tony Stark was a persona, that his fast-talking self was all an act for the cameras, but clearly not. He reminded Bucky a little of Howard, not that he had met the man more than once or twice during his time as a Commando and even then he scarcely remembered anything from that time in his life.

He did reach out to shake Tony's hand, his own calloused and strong, and the shake itself lasting the minimum amount of polite time.

"Why?" He didn't mean to sound confrontational, but he genuinely didn't understand. "Why would you let us stay here, costing you money, when neither of us contribute to what you're doing?"

And Bucky probably never would be able to contribute, not to the sort of work that the Avengers did. Perhaps he could understand why Steve was allowed to stay, considering Cap was one of the main Avengers, but why him? He was nothing to Tony Stark, just a liability.

"Why?" Tony scratched the back of his neck as he regarded the taller man. "Because you're Steve's best friend. And you're Steve. I'm not going to say it's a family thing or anything like that because we're not exactly family but... Huh. Yeah. Maybe we are."

Steve took a step back towards Bucky, glancing over his shoulder. Tony was strange and boisterous but sort of wonderful too in his own way. He just wished he hadn't busted up what had been so promising! Maybe that was a good thing. Steve wasn't sure what to do with his emotions at this point.

"So yeah. Doesn't matter. Listen, I give tons of money away a day. If you're anything like Cap, maybe you can help us fight the assholes that kidnapped you. When you're ready. And you're Steve. Best tactician alive, right? Okay, the size of your dick is making me really self conscious so I'm going to go. Tell JARVIS if you need anything or come over to the main house whenever you want."

He saluted the two of them and then headed back to the building he'd been hanging out in.

Bucky blinked in surprise at the explanation given as to why Tony left, and even glanced down at his own penis for a moment or two. Why should it matter what size it was? He looked confused as hell when he looked up at Steve again, feeling a little like they had been hit with a tornado.

"...he's sure something, huh?"

Not sure if that's a good something or a bad something, but it was something nonetheless. He turned to go back towards their little building, though, not at all feeling tempted to go into the main house. But maybe Steve wanted to go there? He was naturally a more social person now, and he'd probably like to meet the other people who lived around here and make friends with them.

Bucky didn't, he wanted to hole himself up somewhere safe with Steve forever and try to regain the pieces of himself that he had lost.

Bucky wasn't the only one looking at Bucky's penis. Steve didn't really have much to compare its size to but it was heftier than his own that was for sure. He wasn't sure if he was admiring it exactly or not but when Bucky's eyes met his face, Steve's gaze snapped up. He'd been caught. Immediately left sputtering for a reason, Bucky nonchalantly just headed back inside as if it was nothing.

And maybe it wasn't. Bucky had seen him naked a lot of times before. Maybe too many for most people to be comfortable with but Steve understood his scrawniness and his limitations and had never really fussed. Before now.

Left staring at the muscles along Bucky's back moving as he left him standing there, Steve felt a strange laugh grip him. Tony Stark had been not exactly flirting with him, made a comment about Bucky's penis and the world had not ended. That was empowering to realize.

"Retreat huh," he called off after Bucky. "I win by forfeit!"

Bucky came to a stop in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder, clearly caught between whether Tony's intrusion on their game had ruined it or whether he could slip back into fun. Unfortunately, this being the first time, the sudden addition of another person in the bubble of safety that had become theirs was disturbing enough that Bucky just shook his head and slipped back into the shadows of the house.

Steve could find him pulling on clothes in the bedroom he had chosen as his own, underwear and jeans, but he left his torso bare because it was warm inside this particular part of the building.

"Do you believe him?" He spoke up whenever he heard Steve get close. "That he'd let us keep staying here, taking up his rooms, paying for our bills and food, for nothing? For good?"

Steve sat on the patio furniture for a little while, chin in his hand, staring st the greenness around the little house until he could school back his disappointment. It took a few minutes more than he would have liked. At least he could put a smile on his face (and not drip so much) by the time he padded into Bucky's room. It was not as nice as the bedroom Bucky left him use but still insanely beautiful and spacious and far more luxurious than Steve had ever been used to.

He listened to Bucky's concern, watching him button up his pants and then, when dark blue settled upon him, found himself smiling.

"I do believe him," Steve said truthfully. "He seems to be good friends with Steve. You are Steve's family. He'd want to provide for you, if he could, so you could be safe. And he'd be nearby. It's exactly what I would want in your position. Mr Stark has a lot of money and he's so smart... He built this entire house for one of his friends right? He said so. So yeah, pal. I'm sure he'd let us live here forever if we wanted. But I want to help them, too, if I can. Earn my keep a little. And all from here. Safe. And with you. It's been-- I like that this place is doing for you. I like it when you smile at me."

Though it was always surprising to hear when Steve said something so insightful, as if he were somehow looking inside Bucky's head, it was welcome. It helped when he didn't have to explain things so much, like why this place was helping him out. He liked it too. He liked having a safe space that nobody could get into except for him, he liked being given the time and the security to figure things out in a non-pressure environment.

"I don't want to keep you trapped in here, I don't want this to become a jail. But I'm scared," he said, having lost much of his shame when it came to admitting his feelings in that way. Maybe men weren't supposed to just come out and say it when they were frightened, but they weren't meant to do a good many other things that had become normal for Bucky either. "Out there is danger, pain-- I don't want that for you."

He didn't want it for himself either, but if he could make sure that Steve lived a life of contentment with the smallest amount of pain possible, then he'd consider himself having done something worthwhile before he died. Maybe not enough to make up for what he had done, but something.

"Buck." Steve felt so very undressed right now, physically and emotionally. It was easy for him to talk to his best friend about almost everything but sometimes Bucky couldn't help but make him feel uncomfortable. That was his own issue. Not Bucky's. Not in the slightest. But confronting Bucky's easily understandable and touted fear left Steve looking deeper into a person than most would have ever allowed in the neighborhood where they grew up.

This Bucky was not the Bucky he lost, however. This Bucky was the one he gained. The one that touched his heart and his skin in ways the other had never done in all the years he had known him.

Steve uncrossed his arms from over his narrow, bare chest, and took a step further into Bucky's room.

"I don't know how I'll feel in a week or a month but right now, after everything the two of us have been through, I'm fine staying here. It's not a jail, it doesn't feel like that. We can leave any time we want and for whatever reason--"

"Mr. Rogers, your cake is ready," JARVIS interrupted and Steve smiled.

"How about we do this in baby steps, pal. Maybe we could have someone over for dinner and play some cards? I like it when it's just us, but maybe if you spend time with some of the people that live here, you'll feel better about the situation. I'm sure they're all pretty swell. And it's safe here. In this place, it's safe."

And maybe one day they could work up to visiting the other buildings. And maybe then see the city--

It might take years and Steve was happy if it did. If all he did in life was help Bucky smile more freely, it would be a good life.

It was for reasons like this that Steve was so important to Bucky's recovery. He knew how to phrase things, to suggest new things, without making them a pressure or making Bucky feel bad if he couldn't work up to it yet. He was gentle, kind, and compassionate. He always had been, of course, but Bucky had never been in the position where he had needed to take that compassion for himself before. It had always been him as the strong one protecting Steve.

"I remember playing cards with you."

He shifted so that they could move through to the kitchen and Steve could sort out his cake, a little bit proud that Steve had done something like baking when the ingredients for that sort of thing had been really scarce back in his day.

"We used those awful big beans because they were so cheap and we couldn't afford to bet for money, and you never even noticed that I kept eating them. Your face when you realised you won the pot, but the pot was empty--"

He smiled again, small and nostalgic. It was good, this time with Steve, obviously helping him jolt loose more and more memories as time went on.

"I guess if you wanted to have someone over for cards, I could cope with that."

Or he'd do his damn best.

As the blond approached the kitchen, the smell of the baked cake hit his nostrils powerfully. Coupling the warm scent with Bucky's memory painted the kitchen in softer colors than the harsh white and steel and he watched the bare backed Bucky like he was viewing it from a distance outside of himself. He was so proud of him, of everything he had accomplished after such a trauma. He had his bad days. He regressed. But he managed to keep bouncing back. Steve felt pride swell his chest and he slipped on mitts to pull out the chocolate cake JARVIS had helped him with while Bucky had gone swimming not that long before.

The memories he had of them were always good ones. Ones that tended to make Steve laugh and smile. This one was no different.

"Do you recall my face when you sicked them up half an hour later and had to stay over on the couch?" he asked, flipping hthr cake out of its disk to rest on a wire rack as JARVIS suggested. "Because I do. The place smelled so bad-- Ugh. Hey. How about we invite Steve? You can try to win one over on the both of us. This time we can play for..."

Kisses, his mind suggested and Steve blushed, turning away.

"Candy. Or something less disgusting than beans."

Perhaps it was a kindness of his mind that let him recall the pleasant memories first, to counterbalance the horrors of what he had done and what had been done to him since. Bucky wouldn't complain, having these spots of brightness in his mind told him why he kept fighting and only cemented his connection to Steve as someone who would never willingly hurt him.

"Yeah-- yeah, I remember that. I was sick on purpose that night because I didn't want to go home, Ma and Rachel had been fighting something fierce and I didn't want to get dragged into it."

He doesn't remember what it was about, but she was younger than him and had been in her teenage years, wanting to push against her mother's boundaries just as every teenage daughter had ever done.

"Not that the beans weren't gross, but I just used 'em as an excuse."

He slipped into one of the tall chairs in the kitchen and leaned on the counter, elbows on the shiny surface and deep blue eyes fixed on Steve.

"Tell you what, if the cake's edible, we'll invite Steve for poker."

There was a memory that Steve had never known and he had stopped what he was doing at the fridge, getting out the cream he would need to make a frosting, to glance over his shoulder. It wasn't that he couldn't verify the memory, it was that Bucky had just mentioned his sister by name. And his mother. Steve was taken back to sitting in the room with the body of his friend, holding one of his lifeless hands, as Bucky's sister yelled at him from the shadows and his mother shooed him away.

They were probably dead now. He didn't really want to look up what had become of Bucky's family and he still hasn't mastered the television yet so JARVIS hadn't begun to teach him about the Internet. It didn't matter. The past Was behind them. They both were orphans. They had each other as family. And that suited Steve just fine.

So he recovered quickly and dragged over the container of sugar to add to the cream as he whipped it up.

"The cake is going to be the best you've ever tasted," Steve said, sassy with his lips smirked. "So good, pal, it's gonna make you cry." Maybe it wouldn't be that good, but there was a layer of cherries baked into the center and extra fudge. Steve had hit all the bases with Bucky's favorites. Now he just had to hope he didn't mess up too badly on following the recipe in his head. At least JARVIS had reminded him about the baking powder.

Bucky still didn't really remember his sister or his mother, they were more incidental and vague features that only complemented the memory that had Steve at its centre. It seemed like memories that didn't include Steve were few and far between, at least memories from before the war. Bucky was okay with that. He'd like to get all of himself back someday, but he was happy just having Steve for now.

"Wow, that's some big claims. You better have the cake to back this up, pal."

He didn't make a move to come and help. This was Steve's cake, his achievement, and Bucky wasn't going to take that away from him by dipping his hand in where it wasn't wanted. Some part of him could tell that Steve wanted to be able to present something tasty to Bucky and be the cause of him smiling anyway.

"I don't remember learning to bake, either of us. Did your Ma teach you?"

"Not really," Steve commented with his back to Bucky. ARVIS suggested the use of the electroc hand mixer and Steve, never one to back down from new things, went to fetch it. There were other baking instruments here, more high tech, and frosting now came in jars for easy use anyway, but Bruce was more of a simple guy and not really a baker so the regular hand mixer was fine for him. This was the first time it would even be used anyway. "But I watched her do it a lot because it was always warmer in the kitchen." And the kitchen and the bathroom had been the same place anyway so when his mother cooked, she would always heat up water for the tub that doubled as a place for their kitchen table when a board was put across it.

New Yorkers can to be ingenious with their spaces when those spaces were tiny holes in the wall.

The first attempt at whipping the cream was a disaster and Steve found himself starting the motor too high and not quite able to hang onto it properly. Soft peeks of cream and sugar puffed up all over him and he gasped, coughing, as the sugary dust settled.

His whole body was rigid before he burst out laughing.

"I'm glad I didn't get dressed!"

Bucky stared for a long few moments at Steve literally coated in frosting ingredients, looking like a yeti or something, before all of a sudden he also burst out laughing. The sound was strange, almost muted, like he had forgotten exactly how to do it. But it was genuine, even if it didn't last that long, and when it faded away it was into a grin.

"You look like an idiot, Steve."

He smirked again, reclining against the counter in his pristine jeans with his still-damp hair clinging to the back of his neck in light waves.

"Is this really supposed to convince me that you're some sort of master baker? It's not looking good for the poker night..."

Steve turned to look at Bucky, initially because he had no idea what sound that was, and then to try to flick some whipped cream frosting at him. "Out if my kitchen," he said, making as if to chase Bucky with a spatula in one hand. "Out until I come and get you!"

He was in no way intimidating with sweets all over his face and chest but that didn't stop him from shooing Bucky into the living room to look through the channels on the television or speed out on the sofa or-- Anything at all but crowd his space when he was trying to clean up and finish his cake.

He wouldn't be too long. A blast of cool air would chill the cake. The frosting would spread nicely once it was whipped up. And Steve even tried to use fresh cherries to decorate the top. He had an artistic eye. Even if the cake didn't taste good, it looked delicious.

He wiped up the floor and then stomped (ha!) back into the living room to tell Bucky he was going for a shower and not to touch the cake until he was back. Of course, by then he might get an eyeful of a lounging man with a metal arm in perfect jeans stretched out on the sofa. Steve wanted to flop over him but--

Maybe not.

He felt his now dry but pool-stiff ubderwear shifting as his body responded stupidly to visual cues. How was he suppose to live like this when his body insisted on betraying him!

"Uh, be back in a few minutes!"

Steve would indeed get an eyeful of a lounging Bucky, his flesh arm stretched above his head which made the definition in the muscles of his abdomen tighter and his pants ride down just a little to show the curve of his hipbone. He noticed the flush to Steve's cheeks, and the way his pants fit differently, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You really do find me attractive, huh?"

Maybe he shouldn't say it so bluntly.

It was just so strange to him. He barely saw himself as human most of the time, let alone attractive, but if he had to look objectively then he didn't see what would be arousing about him. His upper body was covered in scar tissue, he had an arm missing, and he rarely smiled. Surely a smile was what most people looked for in a prospective lover?

"Why do you keep trying to hide it?"

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sorry for the wait I fell asleep at my laptop lmao

Hahah poor fossil!!!!

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