fossilised | For Steve

"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?"

Steve studied his feet. They were covered in grass stains and sugar. "I've always really found you attractive. I've never met anyone that hasn't," he said as an attempt to deflect. "It's not why we became friends. You helped me out. You were always so nice to me. But I've had to hide it for so long-- I know you said it's different here but that doesn't stop me from feeling guilty about it. It's not the way we were brought up. And after that happened to you..."

He did look over Bucky's body. The scar tissue wasn't attractive, it was a road map of pain and of suffering. But it was still Bucky. It didn't detract from his physical appeal either.

"I know you don't see it in yourself any more. But the way you're laying... It does something to me that I'm not proud of. I'm trying not to take advantage of that. Even if we've... Kissed. It never has to go further." Oh God. What would further even be? Steve had trouble even picturing it without shying away from imagining his fingers all over Bucky's skin. "None of what I'm feeling is proper and you deserve better."

"I don't remember it all, but I'm pretty sure that I wasn't raised to murder anyone either, or swear, or-- all of the other hundred and one things that I've done. I think finding another man attractive is probably the least of those crimes."

He sat up on the sofa, but he made no move to stand or to get closer. This was an awkward discussion for Steve, he could tell, and he didn't want to crowd the smaller man or make him feel more uncomfortable.

"I don't care if you find me attractive, I don't even care if you want to act on it. I can't promise that I'll always want to reciprocate, but I'm learning about myself all the time, and I don't mind learning these things with you too."

Steve didn't shrink back. Now that they were discussing this, no matter state of dress or frosting covering, Steve would push through. He wasn't comfortable at all. That would translate in the way he stood, but his resolve was there, bright as the blue of his eyes. "I don't want you to debase yourself because I find you attractive," Steve said solemnly. "I don't want you to do anything based on what I want, only on what you want. And until you know what that is, even if it isn't me, it's not right for me to... To openly display how I feel about you."

This world didn't make people like Steve Rogers any more. Even back where he was from, people like Steve were almost an anamoly. He wasn't like Bucky, able to find a new girl each weekend for a little fun in a dance hall and some necking after. He wanted one person. He wanted to be only the one for them too.

And Bucky never struck him as the one person sort of guy.

Steve rubbed one of his arms and managed to look sheepish and determined all at the same time. "I won't apologize for being in love with you, Bucky. But becsuse I'm in love with you, I want to make sure this is right. And if it turns out that it isn't, well we are always going to be friends. That's a done deal."

Bucky almost wished that he could know right then and there if he loved Steve in return, because it seemed cruel to him to keep him waiting in suspense, but he honestly didn't know. He had to figure out who he was first, before he could be figuring out how he felt about other people, and Steve had the right of it that it wasn't a good idea to just go jumping into things like this before he was ready.

He finally did push off the couch so that he could stride to Steve and touch him on the cheek, rubbing a bit of flour away from the pasty white skin with genuine tenderness that couldn't be denied.

"I don't want you to apologise, and I don't want to promise what I can't give. But Steve, I know that when I kissed you, or when you say that, it doesn't make me feel uncomfortable. It makes me feel safe, happy."

He doesn't know if that will translate to anything happening between them in the future, but he wants to stop Steve from feeling guilty about his body and his feelings, he should just accept them.

"You're always going to be safe with me," Steve promised, wrapping his arms around Bucky suddenly. He had to stand on his toes to do it but he didn't care. Sometimes it took more than words to get his point across.

And maybe later he could get another kiss. Because even if Bucky didn't love him., and even if it was a little selfish, if it felt good to both of them then why not indulge a little?

"Looks like you're going to need a shower too," Steve quipped as he moved back a pace, still blushing and probably a little oblivious that he had just rubbed his attraction all over Bucky. Whoops. He was more focused on the sugar anyway. "See you back here in twenty for some weeping over the cake."

Bucky didn't shy away from Steve's touch. It was odd, the only person that he let consistently get this close to him, and it soothed him. Everything that Steve did, every word, every-- everything, it just brought Bucky that much closer to being human and he wondered if the man had any idea how amazing that was.

He smirked and bent to press a kiss to Steve's forehead on instinct, the taste floury, before he stepped back and rubbed himself down to just leave streaks of white across his slightly more tanned skin.

"Yeah-- go shower, I'll do the same, but that cake isn't gonna make me weep. Dry eyes, you'll see."

Steve still felt a tremor going through him at that touch. That little kiss. It was wonderful and left him feeling as electric as all of the crazy appliances in this house. He pattered off to wash the chlorine and the sugar from his skin, dressed in a nice warm sweater and slim trousers. He still didn't bother with socks. He really loved the feel of the carpet under his toes.

By the time they both were finished their showers and dressed, it was time for the moment of truth. Steve did the honors, slicing up two big pieces of cherry frosted chocolate cake. The cherries baked inside oozed out too. It was still just a little warm and it smelled wonderful. He slid one plate towards Bucky, big blue eyes eagerly awaiting the verdict.

"I have tissues handy."

Steve wouldn't need the tissues, because Bucky wasn't about to cry over cake, but the look on his face should say it all the same. As the Soldier he had been given mostly bland and tasteless food, carefully calculated to the right nutritional value without anything else to it, and on the run he had just eaten whatever he got his hands on because he had pretty much forgotten that food was meant to be a pleasure as well as functional.

This reminded him.

The slight bitterness of the dark chocolate, the sweetness of the frosting, the sharpness of the cherries... it was all perfect and Bucky's eyes widened in surprise before he started shovelling it into his mouth as though frightened it might be taken away from him if he hesitated too long.

"S'good," he mumbled through a mouthful, already eyeing the rest of the cake for another slice.

Steve was a little bit skeptical at the relish in Bucky's movements so he tried a little piece of cake himself and grinned. "Not as good as mom's but wow-- It really reminds me of hers," he grinned, a little less forceful with each mouthful than Bucky was. The cherries had come from a can, the chocolate had been in what the package called morsel form but it was just all so good. Chocolate had been heavily rationed during the war, enough so that Steve hadnt had any for almost a year now.

He sliced Bucky another piece as he perched on the high chair at the counter, watching his friend devour it. He would make Bucky cakes every single day from here on out just to see this look on his face. It might not be tears but it was so much better.

"Guess this means we're inviting Steve for poker tonight?" It would be good to have someone else here just to give what had been a mostly fantastic day some real meaning.

Bucky was going to have a good night too. The chocolate and the pool and their little understanding that Steve would respect all of his boundaries would just cement thst into place.

Bucky honestly wasn't so sure that having someone else round, even if that someone was the safest pick out of all of them being the other Steve, would do anything other than ruin the evening. But he had agreed, and he wasn't about to keep Steve in isolation for the rest of his life, he wasn't that cruel.

"...yeah," he said, scraping the last bit of cake from his plate and standing up. "I'll go and invite him."

He didn't relish the idea of going to the other buildings where the layout wasn't known and there were people that he didn't know or trust, but he liked the idea of sending Steve over there a whole lot less. Besides, he had a fair idea that Steve, the other Steve, wouldn't accept the invitation unless it came from him. He was the same, wanting to respect Bucky's boundaries.

"You put the rest of that cake in my room, okay?"

He was half joking, but it helped cover up the nerves he felt. Almost like he was about to go onto a battlefield rather than just across the compound yard.

It was the gentlemanly thing to do to go around yourself and ask in person for someone to come and visit for a party. Steve didn't think too much of it actually. He just nodded and pulled the plate across the table towards him. "If you're going to go over, will you see if you can borrow some strawberries? I could make strawberry shortcake for you tomorrow."

Steve didn't want to be a sort of homemaker to Bucky but it was such a quick and easy thing to make the other man happy. And that was his number one goal.

"Oh! And hey. See if they have chips instead of beans to play with?" He grinned and whisked the cake and himself away from Bucky. He wouldn't be there to say goodbye. That was a little too motherly. Or girlfriend-ish.

It wasn't what he was going for.

In the main building, Steve wouldn't be there to open the door but Tony would be. He made a little motion towards the patio where Steve was doing crunches. He barely looked up from his magazine or his peanuts that he was eating.

It wasn't far to go to get to the main building, perhaps thirty yards or so, but Bucky's entire posture changed on the way over there. His muscles tensed, his gait became that of the Soldier ready for an attack, and his expression smoothed into the carefully neutral blankness that helped protect him.

He stared hard at Stark, but he could see Steve around the corner on the patio and so he stepped through and stopped a short distance away. He looked so different and yet so much the same, giving rise to the same sort of safe feelings as the other Steve, though muted because he felt in the midst of unsafe territory.

"Steve," he said, words quiet. He wouldn't speak beyond that, just wait until the other man had finished with his crunches and noticed he was there.

If it had been anyone else, except maybe Sam, Steve would have kept going, working through his sweat as he rounded eight hundred in his count. He tried to do a thousand at a time, just to keep himself challenged. But for Bucky? He'd never gotten to his feet faster. Not even during a fight. "Buck? Hey. Everything all right?" he asked, breathing hard, his tee shirt tight and sweaty. That same shirt on the man back at home would be big enough for him to swim in. "You could have called JARVIS."

He was just trying to give him options, being there for him without being there. It was hard. Especially when his bedroom window faced the living room of Bruce's lab building. He'd seen the pair at night when the lights were on eating popcorn and trying to figure out the television. They always sat close together, but that was usual. He and Bucky had always been close. Always.

He grabbed a towel to wipe off his face and smiled. Waiting. Eager almost.

This was the same man that stood in front of him an hour ago and said that he loved him and he found him attractive and he was fine with being friends. He was taller and wider and stronger but he was the same man with all of the same hopes and dreams.

It was almost sweet that Steve got right to his feet, and Bucky couldn't help the tension leech out of him just a bit. Steve was the same no matter who he was, whether he was big and buff, or small and sickly, and that meant that this man was intrinsically someone he felt that he could trust too.

"I don't need anything from JARVIS, I came to invite you over tonight. Just you. We'll play poker, eat some dinner."

It was a little strange offering such a formal invitation, but hopefully Steve understood it as the tiny progress steps that he was trying to make and knew what a big deal it was that he was the one being invited in. And maybe if it went well, after he got to spend a whole evening with Bucky (and his other self), it might lead to him being welcome more often.

"Do you-- Are you busy tonight?"

Though he had dinner plans with Sam, his friend was going to understand when he canceled. "I'm-- Yeah, absolutely. What time do you want me? And can I bring something?" His heart was slowing down from the rigorous exercises, but he could already feel it quickening again just from the thought of spending time with Bucky. The chicken wings and pizza rolls didn't matter so much as the company. Even if the other Steve would be there. That was fine. He needed to stop being jealous and just start understanding that the smaller version of himself was more familiar to Bucky. More like home. And maybe then he could focus on if it was better to bring some pizza rolls or chicken wings over to the poker night he was going to have with Bucky.And himself.

In the end, only Bucky was important. He just wanted to finally be involved with some of Bucky's rehabilitation. He wanted to care for him the way that Bucky always had when he needed it.

He gently beckoned for Bucky to follow him back inside of he wanted to. Just in case they needed to ask Tony for cards and chips. He probably had some Iron Man themed ones. The man had Iron Man branded everything. He was a marketing genius.

Edited 2017-02-19 04:08 (UTC)

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sorry for the wait I fell asleep at my laptop lmao

Hahah poor fossil!!!!

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