fossilised | For Steve

Grant was more animated than usual that evening, even from before Bucky chose to stay with Stark. He told him all about working at the coffee shop and book store, at how he mostly took orders and had a few regular customers that said he was the reason they kept coming back. He told Bucky about all of the reading he did in his free time and how nervous he was about the classes that were less about art and more about history. "Doing my best to catch up the last seventy years fast as I can," Grant said, still picking at pizza long grown room temperature. He had it ingrained in him to never waste food though so he would eat the whole slice eventually. "And the neatest thing is with the computer art programs. You can just tap an area and it will share automatically once you program it to recognize what you want. I don't know a thing about computers though so I'm doing my best to catch up with that too. Kids do it all the time right? I really like it, Buck. Just had no idea art supplies could be so expensive. Ten dollars for a pack of charcoals. Ten!"

But when a cup of coffee and a muffin at his shop was also ten dollars he supppossd that the price for the box of charcoals wasn't so bad after all. That didn't stop him from chattering in about it.

It was nearing nine when Grant started to yawn and he groaned, flying off of the sofa he and Bucky had moved to in order to fetch his backpack. "I can do my reading at work tomorrow when it's slow, but I'm supposed to do some life drawing-- mind if I draw a part of you? It's easier than drawing a part of myself."

Mirrors or truncated perspective always made self portraits difficult.

Bucky enjoyed listening to Grant talk. He didn't have the same manic energy that Tony had, always running as if the sound of silence was somehow oppressive to him, but he still made it easier for Bucky to be a part of the conversation. He was quiet, mostly just nodding and making an occasional murmur of acknowledgement, but that was how it was comfortable for him. He was so damn proud of Grant, pleased that he had managed to find a life for himself in this strange future.

"Me?"

It had been such a long time since Grant had used him as a reference for his drawings, though he remembered there were sketchbooks bound with twine and drawn in charcoal they had dug out of fireplaces full of his face, his hands, his smile. He shrugged after a moment.

"Okay, what part of me? Do I have to stand up?"

"I probably shouldn't do your face." And it was too much for a proper gentleman like Grant to suggest anything he might actually want to draw, so he settled on what his professor said they should probably not tackle given the difficulty and technicality of drawing it. He wasn't sure about showing off, but any other body part seemed too sensual. "Could I draw your hand?"

He'd never made a study of Bucky's hands before, which now felt like such a waste. He ought to have gotten them down when they were bloody and bruised from boxing. Or at rest when he slept, fingers slightly curled up. Or maybe holding the hand of some graceful dame as he whisked her around the floor.

A brightness came over Grant's eyes as he imagined that scene from what seemed like so long ago. They'd been happy then and while they'd never go back to the dance halls, he felt almost as happy and content now, here in the living room, which would have been part of their neighbor's kitchen back in the 30s and 40s.

"You can just stay as you are. We can keep talking. You should tell me about how living with Mr. Stark is. I bet it's equal parts fun and confusing."

Bucky held up both hands, one gleaming in the low light, and the other flesh and blood. Just an ordinary hand. He set both of them loosely on his lap so that Grant could choose whichever one he wanted to draw, though he privately didn't think the metal one should count as a 'life' drawing, when it was just lifeless metal.

"Loud."

He grinned, lopsided just as he always used to do before he suggested some point of mischief or other, or right before he sniped an apple pie from his Ma's windowsill to take round to Grant's house and share with him.

"He's a good guy, a little too interested in my arm, but good. He's helped. A lot. I think I might even call him a friend now."

Regardless of if Tony called him that back.

As interesting as the metal hand might be to sketch later, Grant would have to answer too many questions. It was bad enough that people at the shop told him he bore a resemblance to Captain America and one of the teachers he had an art history class for kept staring at him (perhaps he should not have taken the War art class?). He didn't want to make himself stand out more by trying to be fancy with his assignments.

Grant reached over to arrange Bucky's hand so it was palm up and started to sketch, eyes lowered rather than focused on the other man's face.

"Loud seems about right from what Stevs's told me. Loud and moody. I'm glad he's your friend though. And to be honest, it might be a good thing to let him look at your arm. He'd be the one to repair it if it was ever damaged." Grant smudged and shaded, working quickly. "Do you like living with all of his robot friends? I was thinking of maybe getting a cat-- But since you'll be my new roommate, I ought to ask if you even like cats."

Pets back then had mostly been strays. No one could afford to keep one otherwise.

It felt strange to know he was under such scrutiny, even just for one of his hands, but he resisted the urge to twitch or move away. He wanted to see it when it was done, he was curious if something that had as much blood on it as his hand could ever be turned into art after all.

"I don't mind cats, they leave you alone as long as you leave them alone. But what about Steve, he doesn't live here too?"

He had already told them both that it was not a choice between them, he wanted both Grant and Steve, and he meant to have that. He would be telling Steve to move in here too, because he wasn't going to split his time any longer.

"You sure the fur won't agitate your asthma?"

"He needs to be at the Compound. It wouldn't make sense for him to be all the down here in Brooklyn. It's not like he can land a quinjet here and even on a motorcycle, it can take him two or three hours in good traffic to get from upstair New York here. He's not really around much anyway. When he visits, he's usually interrupted at least twice by Sam to tell him about something going on in the world that they need to discuss how to stop or to actually go and stop--"

Grant wasn't lonely though. Steve made an effort to see him as often as possible when he wasn't on missions or planning missions. That was just his entire life though, more than a job at a coffee shop and classes were.

Which made him boring. And certainly no where near as important as Steve or Steve's friends. It was nice just to be remembered.

Grant turned the book slightly, rubbing the charcoal into the thick page. He wanted to tell Bucky that he should go to the Compound. And he could make help them there-- but Grant felt a little selfish. He couldn't help it.

"As for allergies-- they actually make shots for that. I can get a shot every few months and it will help keep cat dander from getting up to trouble with the rest of the mess my lungs are always in. I had pneumonia about a month and a half ago--" He'd gotten it while looking for Bucky with Steve. "But I haven't been sick since. Sort of a record for me."

Bucky's face fell just a little, but Grant made some good points and he wasn't about to ask Steve to compromise his position in the Avengers just to stick around with him. Even if he wanted it, even if it made his heart ache to imagine living with just one and not the other. He was greedy, selfish even, and he wanted them both.

His brow furrowed on hearing about the pneumonia, even more to feel guilty over since he hadn't been here to help out. So he just nodded, let Grant get a cat if he wanted one, and sank into silence while he was being drawn.

A sudden blare of music made him jump about a foot in the air, a buzzing from his pocket joining the music. What the hell? He fumbled the cell phone he had never seen before out of his pocket, a little display saying Tony Stark was calling, and swiped it to pick up right away.

"What the hell, Stark? Did you slip this into my pocket? And what the hell is that music?"

It scared him half to goddamn death.

"Well let's see. I am sort of the sponsor for an ex murderer who has been gone for over five hours and missed our usually Halo time on Xbox? Why wouldn't I call you?" Tony said, aggravated, until he took a look at the blond slowly creeping into frame. "Oh. Am I interrupting a booty call?"

Grant looked confused, his sketch more than just a sketch. He'd managed to get the casual essence of a strong hand down in the last half an hour and was just working on details. Tony wouldn't be able to see it, but Bucky sure could. "What's a booty call? Like... For pirates? Is that a game...?"

"Oh. My. God. Seriously. I'm into blonds. You're adorable. Let me take you out." Tony joked from the other end of the line. That was mostly to rile Bucky. He wasn't being serious.

Grant sputtered. Mostly because he'd never been asked to really step out before. He'd had a sort of date with Bucky at that bistro with the duck pond but that wasn't a real date. This had him flaring red and frowning a little. "Are you poking fun, Mr. Stark? No thank you, either way."

Oh honestly. He worked with a man who had a boyfriend and that boyfriend was slim and freckled and came in for coffee all the time. Grant liked him. Even if he spoke a little like a girl. It was sort of amazing how open and free the city was now with their dating.

Even if Tony was an annoying dick about it, Bucky couldn't deny that he was touched that Stark had been concerned enough about him to actually want to call and make sure he was okay. Okay, probably make sure that he wasn't killing anyone or had hurt Grant too, but it was still touching. It didn't stop his face darkening into a scowl.

"Don't ask Grant to step out again, Steve either, they're mine."

He probably should have picked better words than that, sounded less possessive, but it was too late now. He had fought for so long to get back to them, he wasn't about to lose either of them any time soon.

"Play Halo against JARVIS, I'm busy. I'll come by and see you tomorrow while Grant's in class, and don't slip things into my pockets again. I nearly smashed it."

But he didn't, and that was a big step forwards.

"Fine. On the Roger-brothers. But I'll do what I want with everything else. And you owe me a sock on the doorknob story tomorrow if you're spending the night. I should have slipped a few other things into your pockets..." Tony fully accepted the hang up on that, amused and then immediately after, feeling the corners of his lips turn downward.

That was unfortunate. Losing Bucky just after really starting to like to be around him. He sank into the couch and frowned all the harder. "What's Rhodey up to?"

JARVIS informed him that Colonel Rhodey was with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson on a mission with the Avengers. And Doctor Banner had gone with for in flight recon. Tony pulled himself off of the sofa. "Sir? Shall I load the game?"

"Nope. Get the armor ready. I'm coming out of retirement."

Grant just looked a little bemused himself, head tilted as he regarded Bucky. "I'm yours am I? Didn't know we were going steady."

Bucky didn't quite have the emotional language to explain to Tony that he wasn't losing him, and he didn't need to sink into self pity about how all his friends disappeared as soon as he got them, so he just left it and hung up when he started making lewd comments about what he and Grant might be getting up to.

"I suppose it might be more accurate to say that I'm yours. You and Steve."

Embarrassment wasn't really a thing for Bucky any longer, he had that drilled out of him a long time ago. Shame, yes, but not embarrassment, and he wasn't exactly ashamed of what he was saying.

"I might still not have all the pieces, but I know that much. Ever since we were kids and I saw you getting beat up after school, I've always been yours."

"Gee pal, do you got to put it like that? I was doing all right," he half smiled, head still tilted. "You could just put it that we met when we were younger men in an alley and-- well that might make it sound like you were robbing me!" Or something else, but Grant still didn't own a computer, had never heard of pornography and though he did get some sense of things by what other people said, he was blissfully unaware of most of it. Steve wouldn't be the same way. That was for certain. "But if you plan on staying here tonight, let me make up the guest room. Steve's suppose to use it when and if he ever gets a chance to stay more than for dinner."

Grant put down the sketch book and used a cloth he kept in his pocket to wipe his hands with so he didn't get product all over his furniture. He did pause for a moment, glancing from the picture to Bucky himself.

"For what it's worth, I've been yours just as long. I was pulling your chain a little there." He didn't make any move to touch Bucky however. Any and all movement would be based on what Bucky wanted. So that sock on the doorknob conversation? It was going to be pretty boring.

Maybe it would be boring from Tony's perspective, there weren't going to be any wild sex orgies or exploration of one another's bodies in the shower, but it wasn't boring from Bucky's perspective. He didn't talk too much about what HYDRA did to him, or how difficult he found the everyday of the world now, but just relearning simple things like how Grant's hair felt between the fingertips of his real hand was a big deal to him and meant a lot.

"He really isn't gonna live here with us, is he?"

He couldn't help the way that pulled his lips down, the look of disappointment in his eyes. Almost like a kid who had worked a paper round for the whole year in order to afford a set of books at Christmas, only to find out that only one of the pair was even in stock. Still good, still wanted, but missing something that he'd have to learn to do without.

"I don't need you to make it up, I don't need anything but a floor."

Honestly, even while he stayed at Stark Tower, he never used the bed. It just felt too vulnerable, he ended up pulling the pillows and blanket into the closet and sleeping there instead.

It took a whole lot for Grant not to feel a twinge of emotion at not quite being good enough. That wasn't what Bucky meant and he knew it, but the hurt was still there. Grant was use to inadequacy. He knew better than to imagine himself as Captain America saving the day so he wouldn't be faced with that dilemma but hearing it from Bucky just left him a little hung out to dry.

"It's okay if you want to sleep on the floor but I still need to make sure you have blankets and a pillow," Grant said, trying to him away the feelings of loss that he had even when Bucky was around.

Good enough wasn't the same thing as being the person that could make Bucky happy.

"You could always stay at the Compound," he offered. "And someone can bring me up there when I don't have to work on the weekend...? If Steve will be there." To make it good enough. "Or if you asked, he'd probably let the rest of the team do the saving to be with you. Family first. And you're the most important member of that family."

There was a lot of things that Bucky had got better at doing over the few weeks he'd been staying with Stark. Learning how to keep his reactions to mostly non-violent ones, how to work a toaster oven, and how to smile. He still hadn't quite got the hang of 'it's creepy to stare at someone without blinking for a really long time'. Mostly because he didn't usually realise he was doing it.

He was doing it now.

Blue eyes fixed on Grant's face as though he had presented Bucky with a puzzle that he wasn't sure how to solve, silence stretching for about thirty whole seconds before he finally reached forwards and delivered a very sharp and very final flick to Grant's ear with his metal fingers.

"Stop it," he said. "Stop being a hypocrite. You can't tell me that you're okay with who I am now, and that you don't think I'm inadequate to the Bucky I used to be, and then turn around and keep wearing that stupid expression like you're about to martyr yourself for some bullshit 'happiness' you think only Steve can give me." He wasn't an idiot, he knew what those expressions meant when they both wore them. "I can't be happy without you both. I need you, you and him, and you're both equally important to me. Got that? Equally. I said I'm staying here, and I'm staying here, so quit trying to get rid of me already."

He folded his arms.

"Steve has his work and I'm not gonna be the one to pull him away from that, like I don't want to pull you away from college. So if that means I don't get everything I want, then I can live with that. So quit trying to make sacrifices for me that I don't even want."

Tony really had been good for him. By constantly challenging him, challenging the programming, challenging everything in his goddamn irritating way, he had taught Bucky much better how to say clearly things that he wanted and express himself, rather than the careful sympathy of Grant and Steve.

"Ow!" It was reflexive to say, not a genuine discomfort, and Grant put a hand over his ear as he watched Bucky posture the way he used to do. "Hey, I'm not-- I'm just trying to help you out here! It's not my fault we have different career paths. And I'm sorry if I feel-- like I don't measure up. I'm not like you two. I don't have unbreakable bones and I can't run up walls and kick people in the kick and... And drive! So.... So cut me a little slack on this sometimes, got it? I'm allowed to feel things."

This tended to be the way they fought in the past. It was like two old people bickering. Bucky would always through an arrogant charm at him and Grant would be forced to bulk up and act like he was twice his own size to prove his points. They would both make good arguments and maybe raise their voices but in the end they understood each other enough to let it go.

"And</>," he stressed, "I'm not really making sacrifices. I'm just giving you options you might not have thought about with a skull as thick as yours!" It was hard not to smile. Grant didn't quite manage trying to play at being annoyed. "I'd like to also put it out there that you've been hanging out with Stark too much. There. I said it. And your hair is getting long enough to put into a ponytail. And--- and hold on. I'll think of something else to rip on you about in a moment-- Oh! Oh and if you're going to say that I'm yours and you're mine, I want you to ask me properly about going steady or all bets are off."

The pattern felt familiar even if he didn't have that many concrete memories of actually bickering with Grant this way. It felt good, though, he didn't have the usual fear or tension that might come from an argument, because he had the strange security that no matter what was said that he would still have a friend at the end of it all.

"No, you're not allowed to feel like you don't measure up, idiot. If you think I ever hung around with you for the muscles, you're dumber than you look, and that's saying something. You measure up to him because you're just as good, as strong where it matters, you're just as-- important. Got it?"

His lips lifted in what was actually a fair approximation of a smirk, making him look like the old Bucky, a snapshot through time.

"I can't ask you to go steady unless you understand that I'd be asking Steve the same thing. Selfish, but that's the way it is. I want you both."

"How am I the idiot? You're the one who seems to forget that we had this conversation already." His folded his arms over his chest. "You want us both. Equally. And you don't want to play favorites. Understood. Clear as day. Agreed with it last time and nothing much has changed. Steve and I used to be the same person. Not so much anymore, right, but I still know that if he was here, he'd put you in a headlock just for being such a... A toad about it!"

Was it weird for Grant to be all right wih sharing Bucky? Probably. He just didn't feel like he was sharing him, though, not when they were getting equal time with him. All right, maybe it helped that he would have more access to Bucky, because Steve's job took him away from them, but Grant was still pretty sure that Buck would join the Avengers as soon as he became more comfortable with the idea. And then Steve might see him more.

It was all about give and take.

"And if you didn't ask Steve too, I would be really mad at--"

This time it was Grant's phone thst rang and he held up a finger. God Bless the USA only plAyed when Steve called. "Grant!" He sounded breathless. "Wanted to catch you before bed to find out how your day went? Actually had a few minutes. Iron Man destroyed the munitions depot for us so we didn't have to worry about civilian casualties this time."

Grant gave Bucky a smarmy sort of look and wandered back into the living room, filling Steve in on the details of the day. "Oh. And guess who graced us with his presence? I'm going to put you on speaker. He has something he wants to ask both of us."

Bucky might have been through a lot of shit in his life, but he had clearly done something right to be allowed a place in the lives of two such wonderful people. Maybe he'd even get to a place where he felt as if he deserved it one day, or maybe not, but either way he'd work to get there for as long as they let him be a part of things.

The second ring made him jump again, eyes going wild and hand instinctively reaching for a weapon for a moment or two, before he made himself relax. Sudden noises, sudden movements, they still did for him a lot of the time. Strangers too, he knew he was still a fractured creature just hiding under a veneer of calm. But it's a start.

He scowled at Grant, but he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Hey-- Hey, Steve, it's me."

Bucky. Though he didn't really refer to himself by that name if he could help himself, it still made him feel a little like an interloper. He heard the soft rush of breath from Steve as he tried to compose himself from reacting, it made him smile and ache with guilt at the same time.

"I'm gonna be moving in with Grant; I kind of thought you were here too, but it's okay. Grant tells me why you're at the compound, and that makes sense."

He glared at Grant, he would work up to asking him to go steady. Little punk.

Steve was obviously surprised and then even more obviously relieved. "Yeah? Good. I was starting to worry about you being stuck with Tony-- actually, that makes a lot of sense why he decided to come out of retirement. I guess you were a good influence on him," Steve said, and Grant handed Bucky the phone to carry because he was still going to get out the linens for the bed, mattress or floor was a decision to be left up to Buck. "Grant can use the company. I haven't been able to get to Brooklyn as much as I want. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen has been doing some good work in New York, which really has let us get to some of the mess across the globe but-- He's been threatening me with getting a cat."

Steve chuckled, sounding calm and happy.

"So we're just finishing up here. Should be back tomorrow night your time. If you're going to be around, think I could swing by? See you both? Maybe take Grant out for a real dinner to celebrate?"

Even Grant looked up at that. Being seen with Steve Rogers? Probably not the best idea. "Why don't we all cook together, Steve?" he called from the bedroom.

"Yeah that sounds great. What did you want to ask?"

Perhaps a part of Bucky was disappointed that Steve had not immediately said that he would drop the compound and come and live with them, logistics be damned, and it made him hesitate. Could maybe swing by, might get some time, it sounded as though Steve had really moved on with his life in the time that Bucky had been gone. He sounded happy, like he had a purpose, not the stressed out a tired that he often seemed when he had to deal with Bucky's mess.

It made him hesitate, and Grant would probably see it as he ferried linens in the way his expression closed up and guilt etched itself across his eyes.

"Nothing."

Stupid.

The cocky man of ten minutes ago had gone already, hypocrite himself as he did just what he had told Grant off for doing and talked himself out of doing anything that could jeopardise Steve's happiness.

"We'll see you tomorrow if you have time to swing by."

"Less worried about my time and more-- I don't want to crowd you." So this was Steve acting like Grant had. He just couldn't make the face, or at least, Bucky couldn't see his face, so he had tried to make his voice seem happier. More chipper. He felt just as Grant had. That maybe Bucky had enough with just Grant. Or maybe if he came out of hiding now without calling him, he just wanted to take one step at a time. Bucky was going to have to remember that, at their roots, Grant and Steve were the same, fundamentally, and they reacted similarly.

There was a pause on the line and during that time, Grant reached up and flicked Bucky on the ear. He deserved it. And so did Steve.

He sounded exasperated as he made a reply for Bucky over the speaker phone. "Swing by around six? I have a shift after class until five-thirty. And you've got a key so if you're early, just come in. Or maybe give Buck a call first so he isn't startled? Mr. Stark gave him a phone. I'll make him text you so you have the number."

Grant shook his head at Bucky and said his goodbyes to Steve, who seemed more than a little hesitant as they hung up the phone.

"Hypocrite, by the way," Grant added to Bucky. It had taken that month apart and, honestly, that speach from ten minutes before, for Grant to let himself settle down. He would never be as crass as Tony but he couldn't always handle Bucky with kidgloves either. "Make sure you text him."

It was good. Better. There were times when the kid gloves would be necessary, and the right way to react, but there needed to be a balance and it seemed like Grant was finally finding it. Bucky reached up to touch his own ear where he had been flicked, looking a little shame faced, but he didn't back down.

"He sounded happy, Grant."

Honestly, this was all still tied up with the loud insistent voices in his head that said he wasn't a person, wasn't human, and didn't have the right to press his wants and needs onto anyone else. Stupid, but there all the same.

"He's got his purpose, working with the Avengers, living at the compound. I don't want him to feel like he has to drop everything for me, I don't want you to feel like that either."

They were all idiots.

"Yeah of course he's happy. He got to talk to you. He sounded really tired until I put him on speaker phone," Grant pointed out as he put new pillowcases on the pillows Bucky would likely use. "And he's been living up at the Compound since he gave up his place in DC actually. Where else is he supposed to live if he's going to keep on leading the world's best super heroes? Take a step back. Don't read into everything. We're happy because you're back with us. That's all," Grant said, fluffing the pillow against his chest, his smile gentle. "And if you doubt me, as him tomorrow."

Bucky had a full docket of meetings tomorrow. Breaking up with Tony Stark (in so many words) was going to be difficult. And then preparing for Steve Rogers to race back to the apartment once he finished up with the clean up on sight was going to be another hurdle. And, obviously, Grant was expecting to be asked to go steady soon enough--

It might be a little too much pressure on a fragile creature but Bucky needed to toughen his way through it to get what he wanted.

"I have to be out of the house early," he told Bucky a little more softly now. "So if you hear me roaming around, don't worry too much. I--- I'm real glad you're back. And I'm real glad we're all gonna be together again tomorrow."

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sorry was doing the aforementioned housework, done now

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