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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He didn't want to leave it at that, but he couldn't do much else for it. Anything more might toppled this all like a deck of cards, stood on end. A touch could knock it over. He could feel a sort of agony spreading in his chest and it scared him.
"Please don't break us up yet because I'm jealous."
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"It's not about you being jealous," he murmured, all trace of anger gone. "It's about knowing that what I do... that every time I kissed Grant, it would hurt you. I can't hurt you day after day, Steve, don't you get that?"
He took a step backwards, fingers flexing.
"I don't want to lose you, I don't think I could, but I can't-- I'm not saying anything, just that I need to think. Let me go."
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Steve had to blink away his tears, not because he felt less of a man for crying (he'd learned to disregard that particular emotion), but because Sam Wilson was suddenly at his side. He hadn't meant to walk in on anything, considering they were just outside where he had been flying drills with Redwing, but he had see. It. And man, wow. That was more of a gut punch than he'd thought possible, thst confirmation. And the outcome.
Steve was his friend. And when a friend needed to do some sorting out, well, that's when it was important to provide a shoulder. Or to seek one out. Should Bucky choose the same, he'd find Grant trying to practice dancing while he cooked or Tony back at the scotch again.
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Bucky couldn't go to Grant, not when it was Grant that might be affected by whatever he chose to do tonight, so it was to Tony that Bucky found his feet taking him. Appearing like a ghost right behind the man as he tipped the scotch into his mouth, voice low.
"I need help."
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Most was good. Not all but most.
He sank back into the couch and patted the back of the spot beside him. He wasn't sure how good he'd be right now on the helping, mostly because he wouldn't trust himself in the armor, but he'd do his best. Of course, once he heard about the problem Bucky was having, he would just level the his friend with dark eyes and a sigh.
"If only k had your problem, pal. Which way are you leaning "
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"How can I lean either way?"
He sounded miserable as sin.
"Choosing one of them means rejecting one, and I can't-- I don't know how to do that. Tony, they're my whole world, I don't think I can survive without them both. But I can't do this to Steve."
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Yes. Sometimes Tony cslled him by the nickname too. At first, it was just to see if he could. Now? It felt natural to do it. Tony propped his feet up on the table and sucked on the edge of a piece of ice before he set the glass aside.
"Your choices are Steve only, Grant only, both or none. So take them apart. None, everyone is completely miserable. Both, Steve gets a little hurt from time to time but maybe it stops bothering him or you figure out a way to make it so no one has to see what you do intimately with the other. Steve only... Steve would be guilt ridden. Grant would probably be crushed but he'd be all right. He's adorable. He'd get another boyfriend down the road and go back to school and be fine in the end. Grant only... Grant would be sad about Steve but maybe not feel as guilty? I don't know him that well but he seems young and impulsive and better able to bounce back. Steve would probably keep on Captain America-ing. He probably won't meet anyone else because our pool is tiny. But he'd be all right. He's an island. Always has been. He's been living and breathing without you for years now. He'd be okay."
Tony was just making broad stretches here.
"But you? Huh. You'd leave if you could have neither. You'd stay if you had both or Steve only, but if you had both thst might not be sustainable and I think you'd go back to neither. And you'd leave again if it was just Grant. So I'm really leaning towards the just Steve. Least amount of broken hearts. But Grant is probably better in bed. So-- up to you."
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But having them both... Tony was right, it would always end up in having neither, because he'd never be able to reconcile that what he was doing was selfishly hurting one or the other of them. But he honestly didn't know how to choose - Tony was right, they would both end up okay without him, they were strong, but he wouldn't end up okay.
He fisted his metal fingers into his hair in frustration, on the edge of tears but refusing to allow them to come.
"It's not fair," he muttered. "I can't do this. I can barely even choose what cereal to have on my own, how am I supposed to choose between them?"
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Now wasn't the time for a disjointed, out of time man to have romance issues.
"Plus, they'll both understand. And maybe in a year or five years when you've had all of your court ordered therapy and you know who you are, you can figure out which Rogers is the one for you. Maybe neither are. Maybe some hot therapist with dark curls and eyes will be your poison."
Yeah. He was talking about Banner there. Not in a serious way. He'd just had dreams sbkut him sometimes that they were married and had a little girl that they adopted named Ola. If his weird dreams were enough to reference out of hand, then the person who was waiting for him might not be either Steve Rogers...es.
It was just a thought.
"Feel better yet?"
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But that didn't make it easier to hear.
He couldn't imagine sitting them down and telling them this. They'd both be so hurt, Grant would cry, Steve would think that it was his fault that Bucky was breaking up with them, and maybe they'd both move on before he ever got his life together. Maybe they wouldn't even stick around to help him get his life together, too hurt by him breaking another promise and hurting them once more.
Bucky looked about as miserable as a person could look, hunched in on himself and swallowing hard every so often to keep himself from crying.
"I don't want to lose them."
Pathetic.
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He didn't want to be giving relationship advice. He wanted to wallow a bit and they go out and sleep around until he had another VD scare and then sequester himself away with his overpriced robot toys. He had some new ideas about Ultron now that he had the money and time to mess around with the programming again.
"Wait. Are you going to cry? Damn it." Down went the glass and he leaned over to lightly pat Bucky on the back. It was a little mechanical but his voice softened. "No one is going to leave you. Not again. You gotta know that."
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It was stupid, he was goddamn pathetic because of course Grant and Steve weren't going to leave him, but he was so scared. He didn't want to hurt them, he didn't want either of them to think that he didn't love them, and telling them that he needed to dial it back to just friends felt like he would be making them slip through his fingers.
Tears slid down his face and he turned himself in to literally cry on Tony's shoulder whether he wanted it or not.
"I thought I had somewhere I could make them both happy." Stupid, so fucking stupid.
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"You make them both happy just by being with them," Tony pointed out. "And that's a lot more to offer people that I've ever managed to."
And was t that telling? Bucky had nothing, not even himself, and made people love him and made those people happy but him? He had bundles of cash and everything in the world to over and no one ever stayed with him.
Well. This wasn't his pity party. Not in the slightest.
"You'll feel better when you see it for yourself. Have a little faith in them. They're seriously the most perfect human beings alive."
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Bucky mumbled the insult out into the hollow of Tony's throat. There was nothing intimate about the position, this was just where he had slumped to when he had come sideways to get comfort from his friend.
"You offer that to me. You're pretty much one of my best friends, or didn't you notice that? You think I trust just anyone?"
Tony was pretty much the only person that he did trust outside Grant and Steve, and that was a massive deal. He had made that happen just by being himself. Not because of his money, not because of his massive home, but because he had been exactly the sort of person that Bucky needed to help him heal.
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Today had been a hard day on everyone, except Grant. Grant was just sitting at the little table in their not exactly a house building with two empty chairs and a full meal slowly getting cold.
He had no idea where Steve and Bucky had gotten to, but he was trying not to be too nosey.
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It would be Steve who got back there first. He had talked with Sam, though not about everything because he was still a man who preferred to keep his issues on the inside, and he felt no better than before. Guilt was twisting in his gut when he made it back to the little house, half expecting Bucky to have done a bunk again.
When he caught sight of the table and empty chairs, his stomach sank further.
"He's gone, hasn't he?"
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Blaming Steve didn't even come to mind. Steve was his brother and his family. Steve took care of him and in return, Grant made sure to do the cooking and the housework. It wasn't glamorous, but it wasn't beneath him either. He just had so much love for these men anyway. He kept putting his life on hold for them and would continue to do so as long as he was wanted.
"And are you all right?"
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Steve wasn't looking forward to this conversation at all, but he faced it as he did everything, head on. He would never run away from something unpleasant, even if he felt as if he might throw up from how guilty he felt right now. He should have kept his mouth shut, having a part of Bucky was better than nothing at all, and now he had ruined it for them both.
"I told him that I was jealous when he kissed you, and that it hurt when he only thought about you. He said he didn't want to hurt either of us, I think I might have driven him away."
He was a stupid, stupid, fool.
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He had to believe that. It would break his heart otherwise. All he wanted was for Bucky to be safe and happy. Evidently he wasn't happy. But if he was at least safe, Grant could be content. Bucky had forced him to see everything about himself. He could t shove that all away again and there was no road left to take him back to the path of Captain America.
So this was it.
"Wash up for dinner. He'll be back." And then they would talk. All of them. Because, at least for Grant, they had all been together. They had been one. And though it hurt him to hear that Steve wasn't happy, he had to compartmentalize that for now.
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"Grant, I need you to tell me how you aren't jealous."
He came over to stand by the smaller man, eyes imploring as if Captain America really could need help from the man he had been in his past.
"I don't want to be. God knows I love the both of you, and I want us all to be happy, it's just something I can't help."
But they were the same person, right? So what had Grant discovered that Steve hadn't, how had he managed to be okay with it?
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It was a little sharper than Grant would normally be and though he was afraid that Steve might take that as a slight against him, he was being truthful.
"It doesn't feel right when you're not there, Steve." He wanted to explain himself but he couldn't just out and say that he found himself attracted to the idea of Steve and Bucky. And that seeing them together made him feel nearly the same way as being with Bucky himself did. "I don't know what to tell you about when the switch flipped, because I was jealous at first too. It just seems right."
That Steve was hurting because of this hurt Grant too and he let his touch longer as if he was somehow able to help the hurt that Steve was feeling.
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He sighed and looked down at their entwined hands, looking and feeling tired.
"I wish I knew how to do that, Grant. Buck is all I've ever wanted, ever since I was a kid in Brooklyn, and you're like a brother to me. I don't want to hurt either of you, I wish I hadn't said anything. I think we might both lose him because of this."
And it would be his fault.
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Some men flaunted their wives and their mistresses. Bucky had always had two or three girlfriends. No one serious, but there were always more than just the one hanging around. They were just programmed to want exclusivity.
But Grant was seeing a whole new side of life. Whole new family structures too. It was amazing and it was terrifying but it felt right to him. It kept coming back to that word.
"Can I try something? Probably going to be weird, but I don't know. It's worth a try," Grant said as he let go of Steve's hands and stood up, small fingers moving to cradle his jaw. This might mean that there was a crazy hell waiting for him, but at worst this was masturbation. And even that wasn't so bad anymore. According to a study he'd read, everyone masturbated. Even girls!
He kissed Steve gently, on the lips, exhaling the way Bucky always did when he kissed him. It was not platonic at all, open mouthed and a little moist.
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"What do you think you're doing?"
It wasn't exactly accusatory, more totally and completely confused. What bothered him the most was that it hadn't been the worst thing in the world, and didn't that make him a monster? It wasn't like with Bucky, but it wasn't bad either.
Was he some sort of pervert? Were they both? God Almighty, they were going to hell.
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"I was kissing you. What do you think you were doing?" he sassed, shifting to cross his arms over his chest. "If we aren't hurting anyone, and neither of us are too against it, I don't really see why it should matter what we do."
He could almost see thst glazing over of personal terror in Steve's eyes, so he rolled his own with a little half snort.
"I liked it. That's probably why I'm not jealous. I liked it. And I like watching you and him together too. It just makes sense to me. All of it. You make me tingle too." Not as much as Bucky did but wow. Bucky was just his everything.
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