fossilised | For Steve

"Because you're not going to want to have asked this come morning, I don't know if he has or hasn't, but that's his business. Now stop arguing and drink this damn water, and then you're going to bed. And if you set foot outside this room again tonight, I will pick you up and hold you in bed."

Bucky's words might be stern, but his expression was fond. He couldn't help it, he loved this idiot even when he was drunk and making a fool of himself. He just didn't know if he loved him in the way he wanted to be loved.

"I'm going back out there, stay put."

Ignoring any and all protests, Bucky slipped out of Grant's room and shut the door tightly, before coming over to where Steve had begun to clear up. He grimaced, a tiny apologetic smile quirking his lips up.

"Sorry about that."

Steve shook his head at Bucky, feeling a little bad that he was pleased it could just be the two of them for awhile. He had had a pleasant time with his other self but he wanted to test out of if he was allowed to be a best friend now too or if Grant had taken that from him. If he had, then he knew Bucky was in good hands but he would be hurt just the same. He would have to suck it up and hold his head high until he was alone, but he'd do it.

"Do you want me to head out?" He made a little thumbing gesture over his shoulder. He didn't want to overstep his bounds here and yeah, all right, he hoped Bucky might tell him to stay.

A little bit of apprehension in his stomach danced together, pulling at his ribs. No one should be able to do this to him but Bucky proved that no matter how far apart they had gotten, any closeness at all was enough him to forget his other duties.

Edited 2017-02-20 11:54 (UTC)

Bucky just looked at Steve for a moment as though he could see the subtext question being asked there, which he pretty much could. He wasn't a fool, he knew Steve better than anyone even with his memories shot, and so he was well aware that this Steve must be feeling left out, confused, hesitant... just like they all were.

"No, you don't have to go."

One Steve was not interchangeable with another, he wasn't that fickle, but that didn't mean that he didn't have room for both Steves. This one had proven tonight that he had just the same respect for Bucky's boundaries and needs as Grant did, and Bucky hadn't felt an urge to attack him which dropped his tension levels significantly.

"I'd be okay with it if you dropped in more often now, you-- you're safe, like he is. Both of you."

"Not sure how safe I am, considering you still lost tonight," Steve said, following up the heady question with a tease. He grabbed another piece of pizza, one of the two slices left, another beer despite only being able to taste it and nothing more, and the bowl of chips. The dip was long gone.

He strolled back out to the living room and settled on the sofa, bowl of snacks on the center seat to wait for Bucky to follow him. He wanted to remember this moment. He wanted to share the same sort of happy memory that Grant did on a nightly basis, sitting on this sofa and looking into dark eyes. He always wondered what they had to talk about. They just stayed inside the whole day and spoke to each other. Could it be about Bucky's recovery or just the usual chatter they use to do all day long in the summer when they spent every waking moment together?

"I envy him a little," Steve mused. "I've never gotten drunk. Not sure how fun that actually looked but he looked like he could have used a backup dancer."

Bucky didn't hesitate before slipping onto the sofa beside him, one leg curled beneath him and their arms close enough to brush up against one another every so often. He didn't really know how often Steve had looked over to their lighted window and seen the two of them sitting side by side in envy, nor how much his heart had ached to have the same thing. All he knew was that this was Steve and he had made a mistake in keeping him away for so long.

"I've been drunk, it's not that great. Feels good at the time, like you're invincible or really funny, but it's not worth it the next morning. Trust me."

He relaxed a little, arm pressing further into Steve's as he reclined, finally letting the last of the day's tension drain out of him so that he looked less like the Soldier and more like Bucky.

"It was good-- tonight."

Steve could move the bowl and Bucky could lay back on him. He could put his arm over the back of the couch and they could be like hundreds of other couples right now, sitting on the sofa eating pretzels and chips and watching television. Steve didn't have to be the guy that went to the past to rescue his friend, Grant didn't have to be in the bedroom, and there didn't have to be HYDRA for a little while. But all of those things didn't just disappear because he wanted them to. Steve watched the curve of Bucky's face in profile for a long time before his smile returned, full force.

"It was real good tonight. Thanks for having me. Tony's going to be sorry he missed out on the fun." He didn't need to be talking about Tony Stark right now. That man had everything. He didn't need Steve's game of poker too. "But you've been doing great here, pal. Grant's been real good for you too. I'm glad he was there and not at Camp Leigh. I might never have been able to find you."

And chances were that Bucky never would have found himself.

"Do you two need anything that isn't here? I can get it for you."

Even though there was nothing but sincerity behind Steve's tone, he knew that there must be some underlying sense of envy. He had felt it too when he imagined Grant meeting with his Bucky and having back everything that he had ever wanted, and Steve must feel it too with Bucky having seemingly chosen Grant over him. He deserved to know the truth, and to not have it hanging over him.

"I ran from you and stayed with him because I thought I'd hurt you," he said, not at all an answer to the question. "My last mission was to hunt down and kill Captain America. I don't want to hurt anyone ever again, but you-- God, Steve, you least of all. That's why I stayed with him, he's not-- the orders weren't for Steve Rogers. It's nothing else, he doesn't have anything you don't."

He scrubbed a hand through hair that was growing out again, messy and rumpled.

"I still don't have a lot of memories, but I know that you-- both of you-- you make me feel more human. More like I might be able to smile again, like... I don't know. But I know now that I'm not going to attack you for nothing, tonight proved it, so I want you here too. You don't have to go. I want you both."

A certain warmth filled various areas of Steve's body as he sat there, watching Bucky fight through his words until they all just came out. He wanted to reach over and hug him, but he didn't. He wanted to groan and sink down on the sofa at how enticing some of those words were, but he didn't. All Steve did was smile and nod. "Not going anywhere if you don't want me to," he said, knowing that he still had a duty here--

No. No he didn't. He had a duty to Bucky first and foremost. He would like to be able to take care of both his best friend and the world but if he had to choose, it would be Bucky all the way. Steve finally did stretch his arm out along the back of the sofa, but he did not touch Bucky. He didn't know the extent of his abuse, not for certain, but he had closed in just two days ago on some old training footage that Natasha and Tony had watched when he brought it back and briefed him on the contents.

The film was of Bucky, the Bucky before he had been broken. And some of the parts even Tony hadn't been able to watch. Nat asked him not to look at it and so he hadn't.

But he still got the run down. And it still left him more loyal to Bucky than to anything else.

"For what it's worth, thanks. I just want to help in whatever way you need me to help. If that's stepping off, I can do that. If that's staying close--". Yeah. All right. He shouldn't have put it that way. "Well I can do that too."

It might never all come to the surface. Before the Soldier had been deemed ready to begin missions, there had been seven full years of training. Seven years where he had been systematically broken in every way that a person could be broken, until nothing was left but a hollow shell that could be made malleable in any way they chose. Three years following that came the intensive language training, weapons, vehicles, combat-- until he was a killer anyone could be proud of, pushed beyond the limits of any other mortal man.

Steve might never know how amazing he truly was, for it had taken ten years to fully make the Soldier, and only ten days from beginning to end to bring Bucky back to the surface enough to have him flee.

Bucky leaned back just enough so that the top of his head rested lightly atop Steve's arm on the back of the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling and throat stretched over his adam's apple.

"It's staying close. I don't know if I'll ever get back who I was, or if I feel about either of you the way that Grant feels about me, but I know I can't lose either one of you."

"You're always you," Steve insisted, the feel of his still shorter than the last time they had met hair soft against his arm. That would probably be Tony's shampoo. Bruce only used the bargain brands like Steve, but Tony kept their toiletry stock filled with the good stuff and Steve had eventually given in when at the compound. It made his hair shinier than the serum initially did, more perfect and softer than his upper genetics allowed for to start. And now Bucky's was the same way. "Doesn't matter if you remember or--"

Suddenly, the remainder of what Bucky had said spilled into his gut and it twisted enough to leave Steve momentarily speachless. He didn't try to cover up for it though.

"When you say... How does he feel about you?" Because Bucky was not talking just friendship here. That was a given no matter what. So how had Grant come to tell Bucky their secret? And when he said 'either of you' did that mean that there might be a choice? That last slice of pizza seemed to be repeating on him, even if he never got sick anymore and he never had heartburn. His stomach was almost literally cast iron.

Bucky wouldn't have a chance to respond because Grant's door opened down the hall, visible from the couch, and he stepped boldly out into the hallway.

"Money where your mouth is, Barnes," he called, tipsy and challenging. "I've stepped more than one foot out of the room. Guess you're gonna have to come and hold me." Steve cleared his throat and pulled his arm back from behind Bucky's head as if they had been caught doing something they shouldn't. He sat forward, knees apart, elbows resting on his upper thighs. Grant gave pause too. "Oh. Sorry. Didn't mean to... Carry on...?" Maybe he slammed the door a little too hard rushing back inside but he felt like Steve felt right now, with his guts about to fall out.

Bucky looked incredibly confused when Grant appeared and then disappeared, and Steve looked as if he had been caught breaking the law. He simply didn't understand, he didn't have the memories yet to realise that potentially being in love with two people in a romantic sense wasn't the usual order of things and that neither one of them would likely be okay with it.

All he knew was that the atmosphere was suddenly so tense that a knife could cut it, and his relaxed posture melted away into corded muscles once more.

"What's going on?"

One of them had to tell him what the hell this was all about, because otherwise he wouldn't be able to help. He just had the distinct impression that he had hurt them, both of them, and that was his worst nightmare. Had he said something wrong? Done something wrong?

Jesus, he could feel himself on the edge of panic for it.

Steve hadn't been here yet for one of Bucky's panics. The time in the lab a few yards back didn't count. It didn't matter, however, if he had seen the before because he knew what to do, taking Bucky by the cheek and the back of the neck until they were looking one another in the eye. Sam had helped him with things like this, though Steve himself never had a panic attack. He'd just seen it a few times at the VA where Sam had volunteered in DC and still did from time to time in New York. He made an elaborate breath inwards and exhaled more slowly, hoping Bucky would get the idea and follow suit.

This was not a romantic overture. This was an attempt to help, nothing more. When Bucky's breathing eased, Steve let his hand drop. His fingers rubbed away the feel of skin on his jeans.

"There's two of us and one of you." Bucky Barnes from Grant's reality had died, shot in the head in an Italian experimental camp run by HYDRA. "If he told you how he feels about you, then you know how I feel about you. And if he's thinking like I'm thinking... We don't want to step on each other's toes here, Buck. He told you first. He... I don't know what you two have been doing, but it's fine. I'm not-- I'll still stay close for you. But... "

Steve rubbed a hand over his mouth. Trying to put this easily wasn't going to happen.

"We aren't going to want to be in competition with each other. So I want you to know that, ah, Buck, this is hard. I was never going to let you know how I--". No, he had to stay on message here. "I'm not going to make this harder on you. We're friends. You and I. And we'll be just friends. You don't have to choose, even if you decide you--". Imagine that. Bucky Barnes loving him in return? No, impossible. Bucky had his women. So, so many women.

"I don't understand, why does it have to be a competition?"

He rested his elbows on his knees, fingers laced together and head bowed so that the soft fall of his hair partially hid his expression. His voice was low, careful, as if he were stepping around mines that were buried just under the surface and even the barest of pressure could set one off.

"Wait-- No, this has to be with you both." He stood abruptly and went to the bedroom door, opening it up to look for Grant in the dimness, knowing that there was no way he would be asleep yet. "Hey-- I need to talk to you, so come and get a coffee and sober up some."

Whether or not he had all the pieces, he was going to explain his side of it to both Grant and Steve so that they didn't get all tangled in and around each other.

Grant had just been sitting on the bottom of the bed with his head bowed and his elbows on his knees. He was just wearing some sleeping pants, the ones that Bucky had forced him into, and though he was in the dark, Bucky would be able to see that it looked like Steve was praying. For wisdom or guidance or for Bucky, it was hard to tell. His eyes were dry at least when he looked up and he let his head tilt to the side.

He didn't want to do this, but he'd made his mind up some time ago that if it came right down to it, Steve was the better man for Bucky to be with. And after how well things went tonight, he had to be fine with the world taking a turn and putting the two rightfully together. He'd done his part and now it was Steve's chance. He'd waited almost ten years longer than Grant had, right? It was only fair.

Grant pulled on a t-shirt, this one plain white, and followed Bucky out into the kitchen. He wasn't surprised that Steve was there, standing between the living room and the kitchen, looking for all the world as if someone was about to shoot a puppy right in front of him. Funny, really, Grant felt the same.

"Coffee, Steve? I'm suppose to sober up. I'd offer you some of the cake I made but Buck has it hoarded in his room." It was just friendly chatter to ease the tension.

"Yeah, would love some. Too bad about the cake. I tried baking once or twice, mom's old recipes. They never turned out."

"I had JARVIS to help," Grant replied, not really smiling, as he pushed the button to brew their coffees, single serve. The machines did everything here. He just had to get the milk out.

At least neither man had refused to talk to him or were throwing themselves onto the wire in an act of dumb self sacrifice thinking that the other version of themselves had the right to Bucky. At least not yet, anyway. So Bucky waited until both Steve and Grant had a coffee and the first cup had been drunk, until Grant looked as if he were more or less sober and both men were looking as if Bucky might be about to take out their hearts and stomp on them.

"I don't understand why it has to be a competition, or why it has to come down to one or either of you if I feel that way. Why can't I figure out if I love both of you? You both love me, why can't I do the same?"

He still couldn't give a guarantee that it would end up that way, but it seemed likely with how much he had enjoyed kissing Grant and how safe they both made him feel.

He looked from first one to the other, gauging their reaction.

Grant had the most obvious reaction, mouth hung open, an immediate leap to his feet. "Wait a second, will you? What competition-- You're-- you've the wrong idea. No one, sorry to speak for you Steve, no one is waiting for you to just make up your mind here and decide if--"

Steve reached out to gently put a hand to Grant's shirt and tug him back down into his seat. There wasn't any struggle, thankfully, and no shirts had to be harmed in the process. He watched the younger man put a hand over his face and then cleared his throat. "Maybe you have the wrong idea. Maybe you both do. I'm only after friendship," Steve said. He was the lay on the wire guy here. He was the superior officer to them both. He made the touch calls. He did the harder mission. Him. Not them.

Grant again felt his jaw drop open. "Bucky is not a commodity!" Even Steve was startled by that and he blinked down at Grant. "No one should be offering him to anyone. He's his own person. He gets to make his own decisions. And whatever that decision is, we have to be all right with it."

There was a passion there that Steve hadn't lost, but had still been tempered inside of him through pain and age and understanding of what was acceptable this day and age. Grant didn't have that yet. His passion was still pure and real. "You're right. This is up to Bucky..."

"And now you should probably kiss him. So that we can be even," Grant continued. "Because that's what's fare." He frowned a little at himself. "But only if he wants. And he probably does. And that's okay. I can go back to my room."

And whoops. There went the other Rogers' selflessness.

"Stop it."

Bucky watched them interact with one another, these strange blends of hurt and affection and selflessness, and it drove him mad. His voice, unusual for him where it was often quiet and neutral now, was a harsh snap. It softened slightly after that, but remained firm and unyielding.

"You're right, I'm not a commodity, and I don't need either one of you making the decision for me that the other Steve is better for me. I don't know how I feel about you, either of you, but why the hell are you trying to limit me? Why do I have to choose?"

He doesn't mean tonight, he means ever.

"Why can't I want to kiss both of you? Why can't you both understand that you don't have to be 'alright with my decision', because I don't want to make one. I want both of you, I want both of you in every way that I can figure out that I want you, because I'm done losing out on anything good."

Grant was beat red from the tops of his ears straight down to where the tshirt curved low against his collar bone. "I... Buck. Uh. That's a little inappropriate," he swallowed. The comment was sexually charged and there was no way for him to skirt around it. "We could get in so much trouble and I--"

"It's legal," Steve broke in from behind a finger planted under his nose. He couldn't stop the heat creeping up his back but his face was thoroughly schooled. "Homosexuality is legal. Men are able to marry men. What you want.. What we both want? No one will judge either of us for it. Not anymore."

Grant knew that Steve wasn't lying. It served little purpose for him to do that. He just couldn't stop the tomato peel blush happening all over his face right now. "Oh. Uh..."

"Maybe we should just focus on having fun. Like we used to." Grant nodded at Steve's suggestion. Because Bucky's.... Bucky's was going to make things awkward if he kept thinking about them. "I don't want to deny you anything, pal."

The younger man nodded. "Me neither."

"Then don't."

Bucky got to his feet, feeling as if he had to move from the nervous energy under his skin. He probably wasn't explaining all of this very well and, hell, maybe what he was asking of them both was cruel. He didn't know, he just knew it was right in his heart and that's all he had to go on for now.

"I want to be able to explore what's going on with both of you. But I don't want to kiss Grant and have Steve hurt for it, or the other way around. I don't want you to think I'm making some sort of choice between you."

How much clearer could he make it? Well... there was one way. He stooped down all of a sudden and captured Grant's lips in a kiss, short but fierce, and then immediately did the same to Steve. They tasted different, felt different, but they both felt right.

Grant had felt the short, fierce way Bucky kissed before but Steve had not. He was taken mostly by surprise when he saw Bucky steal Grant's breath and then to have the same done to him? Well that was enough to leave the counter slightly dented under the sudden pressure of his hand on it. He wasn't flushed nearly as badly as Grant was, watching them, but he was sure as hell surprised.

The youngest of the trio wet his lips, tasting coffee and Bucky and tried not to groan as Steve reached up to grip the front of Bucky's shirt. He knew how Steve had to be feeling right now. "What about something slower-- and maybe somewhere less. Um. Dentable...?" Grant suggested. There was always the sofa. If Bucky wanted to explore this with both of them, there was plenty of room there for them to hold onto each other.

He was the first to stand and Steve took that as a cue to let him pull Bucky in for a sweeter kiss first. Less grit. More the way he had always imagined it. That time, he licked his lips too, gazing up at Bucky as if he had just become his entire world agsin. It was the look Grant so often gave him.

"Uh... Yeah. Sure. I'd like that. Bucky?"

To be looked at like that was amazing when it came from either one of them, because he knew that both accepted who he was now. A fractured, broken, shell of a man who had a hell of a lot of issues, and yet they both looked at him as if he were something precious to be protected. And not because he was a valuable asset, but because he meant something to them as a person.

He smiled just slightly when Steve let him go, the quirk at his lips making him look almost like the cheeky guy who used to flirt with half a dozen girls and have them all swooning after him without any effort at all.

"Yeah, okay."

He let them take him to the couch, sliding in between them so that he had Grant on one side and Steve on the other.

"I don't know if this means I want this, or feel the way you do. But I know when I kiss both of you, it feels like I'm home."

Grant slipped an arm around Bucky's middle. He wasn't sure about openly cuddling with another man, especially in front of someone else, but it felt good to be pressed up against him. He felt an arm move down around him too. That meant that he was wanted. And Bucky felt safe so be holding him. "Home is a good way to put it," he said.

"I feel the same way too," Steve agreed. "Like its a piece of me that's been missing. Can I...?" Evidently men asked now when they wanted to be kissed instead of just sweeping someone up in their arms. Grant liked that. It was more equalizing. It had to be wanted by both people that way and whoever was being kissed didn't feel obligated to carry on with it.

Grant gave Bucky a little ribbing, happy for the moment just to feel that his best friend was happy... And happy too to see Steve finally light up. He didn't look so down and out anymore, like someone was peeling off his skin from the inside little by little and letting him heal up between.

Steve took the lead. Bucky might have more practice with women, but Steve knew what he wanted. And the way he kissed Bucky was not as sweet as when Grant did it. It was a little more needy and s little more bent on nostalgia.

Steve kissed with a guiding force. The commanding officer of kisses, maybe. It was long. And it was hot. And it was yielding if Bucky needed it to stop. Even Grant was transfixed by it. "Wow."

Some people might have felt strange being in the middle of two people about to start experimenting with kissing them. Even in this enlightened age, where men could be with men, having a threesome and discussing a potentially polygamous relationship was pretty taboo. So for three men from the thirties and forties, two of which were technically the same person, this was a whole new ball park.

But Bucky didn't feel strange, he felt safe. That was his benchmark now, if something felt safe then he didn't question if it was right or wrong, he just allowed it because so few things made him feel that way.

A stirring of desire rippled through him as Steve kissed him, and slowly his arms came up to wind around his neck, metal fingers threading into his hair, to pull him close so that he could taste him all the better. Only when he needed to break free for breath did he move, shifting to tug Grant almost onto his lap so that he could give that same type of kiss right on. No more sweet and short and tentative kisses, this one was just as passionate.

How could he have doubted that he wanted this? Wanted them?

Maybe it was strange and maybe it was taboo but if Bucky felt safe than both Steve and Grant were willing to do anything it took to give him that safe harbor. Grant laughed as he was tugged into Bucky's lap, right up until he felt a tongue in his mouth. That left his nerves singing pleasantly. Steve helped to hold Grant up and leaned in to nibble Bucky's earlobe.

Making out on the sofa after a night of cards and beer and pizza was so very normal. Despite who the participants were. Both Steve and Grant felt equal here. It was hard to be jealous when neither was left out and both were enjoying themselves to their fullest.

It wouldn't go further than that for the night, however. Grant was still a gentleman and Steve understood boundaries. The youngest of the three laid his head back on Steve's shoulder as Steve stroked his hand through Bucky's hair and murmured softly against his lips that he didn't want to go.

"Don't go then," Grant offered. "My bed is big enough for everyone. And two more people," he grinned, feeling a bit like a floozy the way he was lounged against the two other men.

"Hm. That okay with you, Buck?"

"You can stay here, but there are enough rooms to make up another bedroom."

Bucky wanted to keep them both close, but it had been working well that he had his own bedroom, it allowed him to keep his nightmares somewhat more contained. He had woken up sweating and shaking more than once, but he had kept quiet enough that it hadn't disturbed Grant. More than that, he knew that he couldn't just hurt the other man in his sleep as he had done before.

He didn't want to rush into this, he didn't want to wake up the following morning and feel filthy as he had back when the Soviets had used him.

"But yeah-- yeah, you can stay here for good."

Steve smiled, bright and brilliant, before he heaved himself to his feet and gestured to Grant. "I'll go ask Tony for another bed, and-- hey, Grant, can I have a word with you?"

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