fossilised | For Steve

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)

He didn't follow Steve towards the inside of the house, instead planting his feet solidly outside. He had come to find Steve, but he wasn't comfortable enough to go into a building that might have any number of strangers in it, especially when most if not all of them would be highly trained and likely able to give him a run for his money in a straight fight.

"Come at seven, bring cards and chips. I'll cook."

He hesitated and then offered Steve, this Steve, the first smile just for him. Small and slightly strained, but there.

"And maybe come ready to lose, I'm feelin' lucky."

Steve had a more affectionately hopefully look on his face at a smile than the other did, likely because he had seen so much more of his frowning and had to deal with not being known. He stood just inside the door, head tilted so that he looked up through his eyelashes at Bucky. He was fit now, and huge, but inside was still the scrawny kid he'd used to be.

"Sure you don't want me to bring beans then so you can throw them up?"

Steve Rogers had the original memory. The other Steve in the other building was from an alternate dimension as he now understood it thanks to Tony's confusing explanation which included using dolls Steve had no idea he even possessed. Their memories weren't entirely so alternate however. Not up until the night Bucky left for war.

"See you at seven," he replied finally. Three hours away. He was honestly excited about it.

By the time Bucky returned, Steve was laid out on the sofa on his stomach, making a list based off of JARVIS' suggestions. Pizza. Beer. Potato chips and pretzels. Evidently there were certain standards to current, modern day poker parties.

Bucky felt a wash of relief when he slipped back in the door of the low building that he shared with Steve, as if this truly was a sanctuary against the world. Stupid, it was just a building like any other and no safer for it, but it was the association in his mind that this was a home with Steve.

He flopped down on the couch beside Steve's hair and rested the fingers of his metal hand lightly atop his head, unable to feel the texture of Steve's hair, but noting the pressure of touch against the hand anyway.

"He's coming over at seven, we'll have dinner, he's bringing cards and chips."

He exhaled a long and ever so slightly shaking breath.

"Steve, why am I scared?"

Maybe he shouldn't appreciate the hand on his head but it made him want to drop his cheek to his forearm and close his eyes. Bucky never ceased having a protective presence about it. Not even when he was so far away or someone else entirely. There was always that reassurance that he would remember who he was again shortly. And that was its own comfort.

Instead of giving in and yielding, Steve put his list aside and pushed himself up until he was sitting on his heels and kneeling. Both of his hands held onto Bucky's metal hand In his lap.

"I think it's something you've got to work through," Steve said quietly. "Because the man we are having over for a game is just me. And he's been hurting having to keep you at arm's length. He wants to help you and protect you as much as I do. The only real difference between him and me is that he knows what war is. And he shared some real tough times with you. Tougher than long winters and not having enough to eat. You both know what it's like to see your friends get hurt and suffer. That's something I can't help with, no matter how much I want to. So we can piece out what about him makes you afraid and maybe that will help."

He nodded, making no move to take his hand back from where Steve held it. The metal was smooth and cool, like segmented armour plates that shifted and hummed very softly whenever Bucky moved the joints. He had no idea that every so often Tony looked over and wished he could get his hands on that arm to examine it.

"I don't know."

That wasn't entirely true, he had some idea what it might be that scared him, but he didn't really want to talk about it. Getting to feel more human had been very beneficial in a lot of ways, but the more Bucky remembered, the less he was comfortable talking about it even with Steve.

"I guess it doesn't matter, I can handle it." He would find a way to handle it. "I said that I would cook, what d'you want?"

Steve treated the metal band as if it was real. His thumb made slow circles over some of the segments, but he kept his eyes up at level with Bucky's. "We can always talk about it if it will help," Steve said immediately because he could feel the other pulling away. That was frightening and though Bucky had said he was all right with Steve being close and finding him attractive, maybe it was making it uncomfortable for him after all.

He wasn't sure if he should take his hands away or not until Bucky mentioned getting up to cook. He bit his lower lip and withdrew, picking up his list again.

"We could make a pizza? JARVIS said you usually deliver but we could do it by hand?" It might be fun to throw around some dough and it might lighten the mood just a little.

One of these days Bucky was going to get it through to Steve that no matter what else frightened him or made him pull away, the idea of an attraction between them wasn't it. He didn't care that Steve looked at him that way; hell, he might even feel the same when he could figure it all out in his head. But he had no idea, all he saw was the bite to his lower lip.

He'd done something wrong here.

"Yeah, okay. I've never made a pizza before, but we can give a try."

He pushed himself properly off the couch then and looked down at Steve in invitation for him to come along. The other Steve might not be coming for a few hours yet, but god knows it might take that long for them to make something halfway edible.

As complicated as human emotions happened to be, Bucky wouldn't likely get Steve to accept anything about himself for some time. It was just the way of the world but at least Steve didn't let it overcome him. He was stronger than a lot of people that way. So he followed Bucky into the kitchen and after a flour fight and prying some ceiling pizza off of the ceiling after one very enthusiastic throw, two pies were put into the oven covered in a messy array of cheese and pepperoni. There was flour in Steve's hair and he shook it out before trying to wipe some of the mess off of Bucky's face.

Today had been a long, mostly good day. They had some ups and downs but we're starting to even out, even if Steve's laughter once again rang across the building when his attempt to clean Bucky up just made it worse.

"It's a good thing we don't have water rations here," Steve grinned. "Or we would be in a lot of trouble!"

Bucky tilted his cheek almost subconsciously into Steve's touch, deep blue eyes fixed on cornflour blue ones affectionately. Perhaps it wasn't very overt, Bucky was muted in his reactions a lot of the time now, but Steve should surely have started to be able to read Bucky's emotions better than he had at first.

"I think it's because he was my last target," the words came out soft, but no less sure for it. Perhaps he should have joined in the joking about water, but in this moment he suddenly felt safe enough to talk, like Steve's hand was an anchor. "I was supposed to kill him, I can still feel those orders in my head. I know you're the same person, but my orders were to kill Captain America and you're-- that's not you yet. I'm scared I'm going to hurt him."

That's the difference, the big one, nothing to do with Steve finding him attractive or being in love with him at all.

It was looks like those that made it so hard for Steve to keep his boundaries. It was looks like those that the other Steve didn't get and so had managed to live his life purely without his feelings for Bucky getting in the way of everything.

He leaned in as Bucky did. Body language could lie but none of this was done purposefully. Their hips and chests reacted to each other like magnets, barely held apart. They were sunflower to sun, always following the other in orbit.

"He can handle you," Steve said quickly. "I saw that first hand. He stopped you. He's stronger--" His smile ticked upwards. "If you haven't hurt him yet, chances are you wont. It's been months. And... Let's say something happened and you did try to hurt him. You saw how fast Mister Stark got to us, right? There's a whole building of superheroes across the lawn. You've never been more safe."

That was all true, and it was something of a relief that there was a safety net there, but Steve couldn't understand just how frightening it was that the possibility existed that he might just snap. It was being unable to trust his own brain, his own judgement, and that scared him more than almost anything.

Talking further about that was pointless, though. It wasn't something that anyone could do anything about and so he just nodded with a low hum. He bent to press a kiss to Steve's lips, instinctual now that they were so close, only for a short while before he broke back with words quiet in the heated space between them.

"Thanks." Steve always knew what to say, what to do, to help. "You should go shower, get dressed for dinner, we have a guest coming, remember?"

It didn't matter how brief the loss was. Steve poured himself into those kisses, chin up and eyes closed. His got everything he could out of them and felt better for it after. That Bucky initiated still caught him in the stomach each and every time. It wasn't pushy. It made him tingle.

So he went off to shower with a happy smile on his face and took some time looking through his gifted clothing for something appropriate to wear. JARVIS helped with that too. "A poker game is considered casual."

"But... We have a guest. Are you sure a t-shirt and jeans is enough? It's what I've been wearing every day."

"It is the most appropriate. The occasion dictates comfort above all else," JARVIS assured him and so Steve selected a white t-shirt with the word BROOKLYN across the chest and his jeans.

He did not, and could not, imagine that his older self would wear the same thing, though BROOKLYN had been replaced with NEW YORK. Steve arrived perfectly on time with the cards and chips and some dip that Tony told him would make him the most sought after guest for future engagements. Taco dip, after all, was where it was at.

Edited 2017-02-19 14:33 (UTC)

Bucky had dressed himself in similar casual attire, though his jeans were black denim and his t-shirt was a deep red without any additional wording across it. He didn't bother hiding the arm, there was no reason to when Steve knew it was there and neither of them seemed to care.

The pizzas were just about ready, so Steve would be able to smell the hot cheese as he was shown in to where the smaller Steve was already dishing them out onto big plates and cutting them up so that they could easily dip in.

"So-- hey."

Wow, good start, Bucky. He was just kind of nervous.

"I haven't had a guest over in a long time, you might have to give me a few pointers."

"How'd we use to do it? Punches to the arm and flopping on whatever surface was handy," Steve said, following Bucky into the kitchen as his more properly groomed self was carefully shutting the oven. They took one look at the other, then a glance at themselves, and burst out laughing. "Tony bought you some clothes?"

The other Strve grinned and nodded. "They were out on the patio a few days ago," he confirmed.

"These are from him too."

At least their voices were a little different, audible to the Soldier in a way others might not understand. When the voice box shifted, Captain America's voice had gotten much deeper. Steve's was still soft and warm and calming without the edge of authority his older self had.

"But we picked the same blue jeans," the younger pointed out and then reached over to accept the chilled bowl. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"Tony suggested it. I think he was hoping for an invite. He never sticks around the compound this long."

It was so strange to see them interacting, but not in a bad way, just-- in a way that made it seem as if Bucky had regained another piece of the puzzle. They both represented different things to him even if they were the same person, and he didn't want to cut either one of them out.

He reached out and dipped a finger into the bowl, tasting the dip, before shaking his head. "It's good, but not invite good." He smiled, a tiny quirk of his lips upwards to try and diffuse the tension.

"So... I need something to call you, one of you, to differentiate. I can't use Rogers, and I don't want to call you Cap because you're more than that to me. But if I keep saying Steve, you'll both look up. Steven? Stevie?"

He had a vague memory of calling him Stevie when they were young and he was really sick sometimes, but it was only vague.

"I thought you might insist on going for Grant," both Steves said at the same time, making each one look flabbergasted and then causing them to burst out laughing.

"Since we call you Buck," New York Steve said, and Brooklyn Steve nodded.

"Whatever you pick, Steve should stay Steve," Brooklyn continued. "He has friends here that call him that. And it's his future. I'm just crashing the party." He opened a bag of chips to try the dip out himself in a slightly more dignified fashion, blinking in surprise. "I don't know what is in this but wow!"

"Tony called it taco dip."

"What's a taco-- oh. Tell me later. We're getting off topic. Let me get you a beer." Brooklyn didn't just pop the top of the bottle he pulled from the fridge, but put it in a glass too. That's what good hosts did. No one just drank from the bottle unless they were drunks. He had no idea that the alcohol would do nothing to the other two men.

"Thanks and-- honestly, Buck. You pick what you want to call us. Just, and I don't mean to speak for you, but not Steve ."

"That's what mom used when we were in trouble."

Okay, this was more than a little weird, but it was also nice. Comforting. It proved that Steve really hadn't changed all that much, that the muscles and the health and the strength only added to what was already there, and that power didn't always corrupt. He was living proof that people really could stay good and pure, and it made him grin all of a sudden.

"Alright, you--" And he nodded towards Captain America Steve. "Can stay Steve, and you--" Now this time he nodded towards the smaller Steve. "Can be Grant. That's way less confusing."

He hadn't even considered going for Grant because nobody had ever used it, but then... nobody had ever called him Bucky before Steve. He had been James to everyone, his family and friends alike, and then all of a sudden this skinny kid pops up out of nowhere and says he suits Bucky better. That James is too boring and common for him.

"But it doesn't matter if you're Steve or Grant, you're going down at poker tonight."

"That's big talk coming from someone that lost the last few times we played," Steve said and Grant, who was still eating the dip, nodded in solidarity. He washed his last scoop down with some beer and then circled around behind the two older men to bring the cars and the chip wheel to the circular table he had set up.

They each had a spot, each next to the other and equidistant apart. Grant had made up place cards and now was laying the deck out and the paper to take down scores. "One of you cut up the pies? If I'm hungry, both of you have to be."

Steve complied, exerting just enough pressure to cut the dough without ruining the slicer. Or the table beneath it. He carried over some plates and the dip, leaving Bucky to grab the drinks. If Grant tried to keep pace, he'd be in trouble. "How's your arm? Tony said he gave you a bio cast."

"One of his robot friends did. It's almost all better. To knit bone back together so easily-- I'm glad we're taking baby steps. I'm afraid of what else has changed."

Steve laughed. "The first time I saw New York now was maybe ten minutes after I woke up. It's been a journey, let me tell you, pal. Hey. Did you guys make this pizza yourself? It doesn't look like delivery."

Bucky was some strange hybrid of the two. Even though he had seen the technology advance as the Soldier and was therefore more familiar with it than either Steve or Grant, he had also not really lived in the world and so was ignorant of a lot of the things that Steve knew. A bridge between them, ignorance and knowledge, and he was glad to have them both either side of him.

"Yeah, this was the third try, the second one is still stuck to the roof somewhere."

He took a bite himself and, even if it wasn't the best pie in the world, it tasted really good for knowing that they had created it together. He took his first cards up and began to play - a bit stiff at first, inclined to sit and let the other two talk rather than join in himself - but eventually he loosened up enough to start joining in and joking with them.

It was good-- he really didn't care if he won or lost, what mattered was that this evening was going well. He hadn't had any urges to attack, and both men were being really supportive of what he needed and how slow it had to happen.

Steve found that playing against himself was one of the stranger things he had ever done. Trying to read his own tells was both a lesson in amusement and in futility since both were playing as if they could read one another's minds. That got progressively more interesting as the beer bottle empties piled up and Grant's face grew more red and he became bolder with his cards.

It turned out that a drunk Steve Rogers was almost impossible to play against because he was much less conservative and cautious in his strategy but just as aggressive. Grant started winning enough to actually surprise Steve, laughing as he watched the younger man climb up onto his chair and declare himself King of Poker.

The pizza was gone by that point and Steve had already spoken about having gotten rid of HYDRA in Grant's reality, dodging the bullet that Erskine had died in the scuffle. No need to make anyone sad. They had shared the mishap with Tony in return, and the pizza making fiasco.

It was good just to be themselves. Right up until Grant, once he had been talked down off of the chair, leaned towards Steve to plant his chin on both palms and stare up at him.

"Have you kissed anyone? Ever?"

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