Bucky Barnes (
advanced) wrote in
fossilised2017-02-01 11:44 am
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For Steve
The war had been raging for a long time now, and James Buchanan Barnes had been drafted some months ago to ship out to Europe and fight with all the others in the trenches and on the front lines. Telegrams came back daily with the news of more brothers, sons, fathers, and husbands killed. More friends who will never return, and still there was no end in sight.
But then something even stranger began happening on both sides of the timeline.
All the newsreels were reporting strange anomalies centred in New York City and Washington D.C. that could only be explained by time itself unravelling in places. Buildings that changed to vast monoliths of glass and steel for a few minutes and then back again, a faded billboard for asthma cigarettes becoming a full colour motion picture of a man eating soup. Some people had even said they had met men and women claiming to be from the future, though this was all hushed up.
It only lasted a few days, and then it was sorted. Sealed, the government official offices said, just a trick by the Nazis to confuse us. Forget it and go about your day.
But there were pieces of the future lost in the past for good.
The Winter Soldier-- Bucky-- whoever he was now, confused fragmented memories all he had to go on, had been thrown through time unceremoniously into a street that looked altogether familiar and confusing. He hid from the authorities who were collecting all the anomalies with ease, even though his manner of dress was out of place now with jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. He didn't change it. He found his feet taking him somewhere only half remembered.
An apartment with a key hidden under an old brick. Why did he know it was there?
He didn't know. He just let himself in, quiet as a whisper, and made his way through to the bedroom where someone was asleep under the covers. Skinny, blond, somehow also familiar (the man on the bridge? The man in the Potomac? The man at the museum? No, that didn't make sense, that man had bulging muscles, but somehow he was sure they were the same). He didn't say anything, just stood there and watched impassively, waiting for the man to wake up.
But then something even stranger began happening on both sides of the timeline.
All the newsreels were reporting strange anomalies centred in New York City and Washington D.C. that could only be explained by time itself unravelling in places. Buildings that changed to vast monoliths of glass and steel for a few minutes and then back again, a faded billboard for asthma cigarettes becoming a full colour motion picture of a man eating soup. Some people had even said they had met men and women claiming to be from the future, though this was all hushed up.
It only lasted a few days, and then it was sorted. Sealed, the government official offices said, just a trick by the Nazis to confuse us. Forget it and go about your day.
But there were pieces of the future lost in the past for good.
The Winter Soldier-- Bucky-- whoever he was now, confused fragmented memories all he had to go on, had been thrown through time unceremoniously into a street that looked altogether familiar and confusing. He hid from the authorities who were collecting all the anomalies with ease, even though his manner of dress was out of place now with jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. He didn't change it. He found his feet taking him somewhere only half remembered.
An apartment with a key hidden under an old brick. Why did he know it was there?
He didn't know. He just let himself in, quiet as a whisper, and made his way through to the bedroom where someone was asleep under the covers. Skinny, blond, somehow also familiar (the man on the bridge? The man in the Potomac? The man at the museum? No, that didn't make sense, that man had bulging muscles, but somehow he was sure they were the same). He didn't say anything, just stood there and watched impassively, waiting for the man to wake up.
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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.
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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."
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"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."
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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.
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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?"
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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."
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"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."
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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?
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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?"
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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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Sleepy enough to be a little bummed out by not having Bucky sleep next to him, Grant nodded and followed Steve towards the patio. They never seemed to bother with the actual front door of this building. It was easier to just come and go through the sliding doors in the living room.
Past and present stood gazing at one another with messy hair and too pink lips. Grant was already over his slight pout about the sleeping arrangements, understanding why Bucky needed his space.
He was still wearing that cast after all.
"Do you want my room? You're a lot uh... Longer. I can sleep comfortably on the sofa until then. With room to spare." And it smelled like Bucky.
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Honestly, Steve felt as though he were walking on air. Some of the others might not be too happy that their leader was moving to a building that they weren't currently allowed to access, but he'd have to find a way to work around that because there was no way he was about to pass up this opportunity.
He reached out and clapped Grant on the shoulder.
"However this turns out, I know we can both agree that as long as Bucky is happy, then it's for the best."
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It wasn't like he didn't know that Steve was strong. He spent the better part of an hour cuddled against his chest so that they both had access to Bucky's mouth. The hand on his shoulder, though, spoke more of context of character and the ability to control his strength than the actual strength of that hand.
Grant found himself smiling through his sleepiness, nodding. "I really would do anything to keep him happy and to help him. Know you would too, pal." Was that all Steve wanted to talk to him about? As long as they were on the same page here, as long as they didn't hurt one another (too badly), it would work out.
It had to for Bucky's sake.
The idea of robots dragging furniture over did do wonders to keep Grant's eyelids from slipping too far down to his cheeks. The future was always full of surprises.
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He nodded and stepped away outside the patio doors to jog over to the main compound and go in search of Tony. It was a little weird that Tony had decided to stay so often, he usually only popped in for a few days here or there to tease him or to bother Bruce, and then disappeared back to his tower and his girlfriend.
But he'd been here since Grant and Bucky arrived, even a little before that, and showed no sign of going away.
Steve wore his emotions on his sleeve, and he had no idea that right now he was grinning like a lovesick schoolboy with slightly swollen lips and a flush to his cheeks.
"Tony? Hey-- Tony, I need to ask a favour."
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Having been shut out of poker night despite the dip, Tony had gone to pout at the window facing Building 7, which just so happened to be Steve's room. He'd ended up staying there all evening as poker turned to some sort of argument and then... Well. He wished he'd brought popcorn.
So when Steve called out to him, the idiot faster than ever jogging back to the main building, Tony had to scramble to make it look like he wasn't coming out of Steve's room. Especially because he had been rooting for the two Steve's to kiss by the patio window where he could see.
Alas.
"No you can't have the recipe to the dip because you're mean and I still feel very left out."
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"I told you, Tony, Bucky is still not ready for you. I mean-- for anyone."
No, he means mostly Tony. He was fairly sure that most of the other Avengers could be trusted to behave and treat Buck with respect and with kindness, Tony just didn't have that in him. He was too irreverent and too selfish, he'd never remember to keep it up and he might end up hurting someone, or getting hurt.
"But it's a bed I want, for building seven, I'm going to stay there for a while and help out in Bucky's rehabilitation."
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He stuck out his hip and glanced back towards Steve's room. "Are we just moving the entire thing?"
He was probably being a little too good about it, so he followed that up with a less conspicuous turn to make everything about himself.
"And did he mention me? Lil Steve. I tried to rescue him today. Not that he needed it, but the thought was there and come on, I would be such a good guest. And I know Banner has been dying to make sure kid you's arm is okay." Bannet was not dying for anything, literally. In fact, he had fallen asleep in Tony's lab with his feet up and a documentary on dinosaurs on.
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It brought a smile to his lips to remember how they had made the suggestion at the same time, no ego over which of them would be called which. In a way, he thought Grant had a good deal out of it, it was a return of the use of Bucky's middle name for so many years that he'd lost count.
It was a relief that Tony wasn't arguing with him on this. He could easily have been difficult, and for once it seemed like things would be okay.
"Yeah-- I mean, I think Bucky is okay with me stopping over, and I'd like to be close by in case he needs me. I'll still have my cell on me and I'll come over each day to discuss Avengers' business."
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Tony was aware that this whole relationship thing with Bucky was probably new and exciting and twisted given Grant's injection into the mix but work came before pleasure. Pepper didn't like it but she understood that Tony needed to keep his eyes on the prize. And he needed to invent. And make the world s better place. Shower sex didn't really do that the way the power armor did.
"I mean. Your choice and all. I'm thinking about retiring. I have some projects on the back burner I want to get to as soon as he stop HYDRA. I csnt just hang out here waiting for a poker invite. Let me some of the Legion together to move your stuff."
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Tony could be such an ass sometimes. Why was it such a big deal that he wanted to stay in building seven with the man who had been his best friend since he was a kid? Bucky needed him, and he sure as heck wanted to be there with him to help him through everything that had been done.
"I'm going to stay there to help Bucky. You saw some of the tapes, you know what they did to him, you don't think he's earned having his friends around him?"
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Tony had designed all of these buildings to let in a whole lot of natural light. Windows in Steve's room were more like doors anyway. The Legion would make quick work of everything here.
"You're better off directing my guys on where you want all of this. They'll just drop it off on the lawn otherwise. I'm not sure where you want to set up. Not the lab. Banner is gonna want his house back eventually."
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Steve sounded slightly guilty about that, but he couldn't deny that it was true. Grant and Bucky had really made that place their own and, while Grant could move, he was pretty sure it would be the height of cruelty to make Bucky give up the first place that he had felt secure.
"I know it's a big ask, but can't you build Bruce a new place? I'm sorry, it's just-- he feels safe there."
Nobody gave the earnest puppy look quite like Steve Rogers.
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But this was not a discussion for late night. Especially when Grant and Bucky were standing at the patio watching the flood lights come on to guide the Legion in moving furniture around.
"Or if you're hell bent on mucking up my work, send the cuter version of you over to plead your case." Yeah. Tony didn't care who knew how much interest he had in 'Grant.' "I'll make dip. Teach him how to liven up his game with the strip variety of cards." Where was Banner or Rhodey to shut him up?
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There had only ever been one person for Steve, and that was Bucky. He had loved Peggy too, perhaps he even would have married her if they had been able to go for that dance and see where it went, but Bucky was the one who truly had his heart. Had done since they were just two kids in Brooklyn.
And now that there was a chance that Bucky might want him back? Nobody else would ever get a look in. The memory of the kisses makes Steve smile, cheeks getting a little hot.
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Tony had Pepper. And Rhodey. And Banner. He was pretty good on the friend and lover department. But a twenty-three year old Steve could very easily fit right in to the inner Stark circle. Humph.
"Oh. I bet you're just jealous. Listen, if you had metal in you or were 1943 New York, fresh off the boat, fine. But you have a shaggy haired brunet again. That you're moving in with. After your first date. I thought only lesbians do that. Huh. Live and learn. Oh-- hey, number thirteen, but stuff first. He can move his own clothes!"
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