fossilised | For Steve

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.

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Steve was floored, he didn't think he had been so stunned since that mask had fallen off the Soldier on the bridge and revealed the face of his long dead best friend beneath it. The worst part, the worst thing, was that he didn't feel as repulsed as he should. Surely he should be condemning Grant right now for perverted feelings and trying to get him out of here, but he wasn't.

He found himself feeling a little dizzy and passed a hand over his face. God, what if he liked it too? What if he wanted to be with both of them? And then all of a sudden it clicked for him too, like the memory of lips on his own, and he looked up at Grant in astonishment.

"...I think I liked it too." God help him. "I don't love you like Bucky, but-- maybe you're right, maybe it's right."

"We love each other like family," Grant agreed. "But that doesn't mean it can't be more. I think I knew it when we started sharing beds in all of those motels. I like being with you." Steve against his back or curling up against his chest, it just felt good. And if it felt good, how could it be so wrong? "So... Okay yeah. We don't have to be jealous because we like it too. And we know, rationally, that we love him equally. And he loves us equally. And--"

Now he was just rambling because he felt incredibly giddy, the color crawling up over his face and he pressed his fingers to his lips.

"I just kissed you." His eyes were filled with mirth. "Oh gosh-- I have no idea what's gotten into me. Maybe it's the air. I always got s little loopy when I'm not in the city!"

As if he was filled with rocket fuel, Grant launched back down to kiss Steve again. Thst might be the hormones talking there.

Steve reciprocated this time, though he kept the kiss chaste. It was a different sort of relationship that he'd want with Grant, he saw now that it was right that they could all love each other, that they could both love Bucky, and maybe he might enjoy seeing Grant with Bucky now, but he wasn't sure how intimate he wanted to get between the two of them. It just felt a little like-- it was just more wrong than anything else was, they were essentially family.

He tugged back a bit and put his hands on Grant's shoulders, smiling, but not letting himself get carried away.

"I like you a lot, Grant, and I want the three of us to stay as we are, but maybe we shouldn't go rushing into things so quick?"

Well now that was embarrassing. The trouble was that he was having trouble keeping his hormone levels down. Bucky did so many things to him. Thst dance from earlier, that kiss-- But Steve was right. They might not ever get there with Bucky. It might be a celibate life for them ahead and be needed to keep his mind back down on earth where it belonged. Grant apologized immediately and went back to the kitchen. The pasta was cold by now and he carefully strained it out of the sauce so he could heat it all back up again and not feel so out of control with himself.

His skin just burned so hot. He wanted to be touched... Maybe he would take a cold shower. That ought to really so it!

It was either that or he was just going to crawl into someone's lap and demand that they undress him. Immediately. His heart probably wasn't even strong enough to get to heavy petting so he had no idea why he was just so worked up by all of it.

Hopefully Bucky came back soon.

Grant really just wanted to make sure he was all right. And ate something. And then maybe watch him for awhile. Ugh.

Grant wouldn't have chance to go and take a cold shower, but if he wanted to crawl into someone's lap and demand that they undress him, Tony Stark probably wouldn't say no. He had a thing for Grant that wasn't well concealed, and most likely would want a piece of those raging hormones for himself.

As the smaller Rogers was sorting out the pasta, the door would open and Bucky would slink back in. He looked exhausted, red eyed and hunched protectively into his hoodie like armour. He swallowed hard, already second guessing if he could have this conversation.

"Grant-- Hey, are-- is Steve here too?"

He had to do this together, he couldn't cope with having this conversation twice.

Ninety might be the new twenty but fifty was not. And Grant didn't fully believe that Tony was even remotely interested in him in that way. And. Also. It would be cheating. He turned at Bucky's voice but Steve was already standing. He didn't have a hat to hold in his hands but he did look a little crestfallen too.

"Hey, Buck. Yeah. I'm here."

"And you both have to wash your hands because I'm not heating this up for a third time," Grant said before he really took a good look at Bucky.

Oh. Steve had done a number on him. Grant turned the hot plate off and came forward. He looked worried.

Okay, it was now or never. Tony was right, he had to try and make them see that he couldn't have either of them right now, because there was no way that he could make a decision between them and no way that he could keep hurting one or both of them by stringing them along. Except he couldn't seem to make the words come from his throat.

Even if it was the right thing to do, it felt like he would be ripping his own damn heart out to do it. Just imagining the pain on their faces, of losing them both, of not being able to kiss both of them, it made him want to sink into himself and never come up for air again.

"It's..." One word. One pathetic word and the tears were already coming again, he battled them down as best he could, but ever since Grant and Steve had ripped his defences to pieces in that little motel it had been all but impossible to control his stupid raw emotions. "It's better if-- I don't want to hurt you, but-- I can't. I can't do it, I'm sorry."

He can't let them go, he can't choose. He just can't.

Steve almost felt himself die inside. His heart seemed to audibly shatter in his chest and he felt himself lose balance and fall back slowly into the chair. Grant too looked stricken but his words were measured. At least he could speak.

"Are you leaving? Are you done being our friend?" That was the crux of the matter here. Oh God, Grant wanted so badly to fall into bed with Bucky but that was never going to happen. Not now. And he could absolutely live without it. If he never had a kiss again, he'd Be all right.

But if Bucky left?

Grant's eyes filled with tears to mirror Bucky's own. Steve just looked like he'd throw up.

He shook his head at once, a jerky and desperate sort of movement. He wasn't going to leave, he didn't think he could any more. He sank down himself to sit on the floor, just a ball of unhappy wrapped inside a hoodie.

"I can't choose, I can't let either of you go. But I can't hurt you."

He was utterly pathetic. This was stupid, Tony had shown him what the right answer was, ubt he just couldn't bring himself to tell either one of them, let alone both of them, that he needed to just be friends. He was so scared of losing them, and god he didn't want to stop kissing either.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do."

"Can we... We can take a step back...?" Again, Grant took the reigns, felt the straps in his hands and tried to stop the charging horses who all seemed hellbent on taking them right over a cliff. And he couldn't stand that. His own pain was horrid but the pain Bucky was in happened to be so much worse.

He could tell Bucky about the kiss but that might end up making their friend blame himself. And he was pretty sure that Steve was having a hard time with it too. It was better to just be their secret, for now, until Bucky was squared away.

"Can we go back...? I mean, not all the way back to running from Steve, but back far enough that we aren't just weighing down on your?" It would be all right, Grant thought, if the romantic part of this relationship was over. It had been wrong of him to want something from a man so broken and wronged. "I can't--"

Grant looked at Steve, the guilt written all over his face. Maybe he'd made the wrong move here.

"We can't lose you, Buck. However we feel, you're our best friend. Nothing can change that. Please-- I'm so sorry you're in so much pain." Why was it always two steps forward and a flying leap back? "We don't even have to talk. Come on and eat. You'll feel better."

Grant seemed like the smartest one of them all right now, but everything he was saying just poured cold water down Bucky's back. He was selfish, but this was the first thing that he had wanted for himself in a long time, the first choice he had made, and it was for both of them. So just going back a few steps wasn't going to help, it was a temporary solution at best.

"No."

He exhaled a long and shuddering breath, trying to get hold of himself so that he could explain this properly. Or as best he could.

"I can't go back because then I can't kiss either of you, and I don't want to lose that. I might not know which one of you I want, because God help me I love you both, but I know that I do love you. More than a friend, more than anyone else."

Why did the world have to be unfair? Why couldn't Steve be okay with them all being together? Just a few hours ago he was kissing them both, he was dancing, they were all smiling. Why did jealousy have to be a thing?

"I can't lose that, but I have to."

Just a friend wasn't enough for him any more, selfish bastard that he was. He wanted all of them in every way.

"No one said anything about making you choose," Grant said, his hands shaking badly enough that he had to hold onto them at his waist like his mother did when she was scared he wasn't going to pull through some nights. Grant didn't like this conflict, he didn't like what it was doing to them. "No one has ever made you choose between us-- maybe we've both offered to step back so you could have the other but-- No. I'm committed to the three of us. It's got to be all three. This isn't-- it's not incest. We don't even have the same DNA anymore." He knew that because Banner had given him a lot of lessons in science during their time together when Bucky was gone and Steve was always away.

He didn't know why he was alone in this. He didn't know why they were fighting this war. Angry blue eyes turned towards Steve as if demanded that he pick up his damned gun and help them keep the Nazis out of their trench.

He almost had to go over and pinch the stoic blond before he seemed to finally wake up. He'd been thinking. He'd been going over all of the angles. He'd been trying to ask God for help and trying to see if this was too much or not enough. He didn't know how wrong it was. His heart was even conflicted.

And yet, not having Bucky and Grant in his life? Unacceptable. That would be hell.

"It has to be all of us."

Not incest? Bucky had no idea what Grant was talking about for a few moments, before his head snapped up to look between the two of them. Was he talking about getting together with Steve as well? A three of them in more ways than just both with Bucky, but with Steve and Grant together as well. His eyes slipped over to Steve after that, imploring and questioning all at once.

"You said you were jealous, you said it hurt you."

It came out as an accusation, but it wasn't meant to.

"Are you telling me now that was a lie? Are you okay with it or not, Steve? Because I can't do it if it's going to hurt you, do you get that? Are you-- Are the two of you seeing each other as well?"

"My jealousy is for me to get over," Steve said again. "Grant was able to deal with his and it's absolutely not a deal breaker for me. You're not hurting me. You've been completely honest and upfront with me about everything. Can't you let it be my decision--" But Bucky was talking over him and drawing conclusions that made both of his boyfriends color a little. "Well, I--"

"It's different for us," Grant stepped in. "But I don't think it should be a problem. We aren't like the Mormons. You're not going to be moving from bed to bed. We want to be together. With you. Which means we should be open to being together... With each other."

Steve was almost steaming with shock at how easily Grant could get through it and how easy it sounded when spoken out loud. It made sense.

"We're already sharing everything. Why not one step more?"

Bucky stared between one and the other for a very long few moments, almost a full minute where nothing of what he thought about the two Rogers boys potentially entering into a relationship together as well showed on his face. But then he finally uncurled slightly from his ball of woe on the floor, tiny furrow at his brow but relief in his eyes.

"Good."

That probably wasn't the reaction they were expecting, but it made sense to Bucky. Not because he especially thought the two of them together would be hot (though they would), but--

"You both deserve someone good, someone strong, like-- well, you. I'm glad you're both going to have another leg to support this weird relationship so when I can't do it, the whole thing doesn't topple. You deserve intimacy when I can't manage it, you deserve someone who can hold your hand and go out for the day without freaking out. And if I get to be part of that too-- then... only if you're both sure. I can't hurt you, that's the only decision I'm sure of."

Hand holding in public was probably never going to be something that the two blonds would do. They looked too much like each other for any of that to be public. But Bucky was right. They might want intimacy, or at least to share in the intimacy with each other. It needed to stop being strange to share kissing with Bucky. This had to be a group effort. It just had to be.

Grant looked and sounded relieved, and though Steve was still mucking through all of this, he felt the same. Sam hadn't been so much as an advisor on seeing this through, because he hadn't told him everything, but his friend had suggested that he try to be as open as possible. To really communicate. Even if it was strange or even if it hurt. Even if he was afraid of the conflict, he had to open his mouth.

"Can we-- I'm going to need to go slow. With everything. We just went steady," Steve confessed. And at his heart, he was still a man from last century.

He couldn't just jump into bed. Not with anyone. He didn't even masturbate! That's how wholesome he was!

"I'm not asking for anything else," said Bucky, eyebrows shooting up. "I'm not ready for that."

At least he felt more comfortable admitting that now that it didn't come with a potential for losing the two of them. This wasn't him wanting to backstep to being friends, it was just wanting to take it slow before he made it into bed with them. Though for Bucky, it was less about old century sensibilities, and more that he could barely handle his own penis to go to the bathroom let alone do anything more sexual yet.

Poor Grant might just have to figure out how to relieve his own tension for a while.

"It's not that I don't want either of you, but I can't do that. Not yet."

He didn't say 'maybe not ever', but the implication was there. Though he would try damn hard to not let it be so, he didn't want the two of them to be celibate because of him; though now that they had each other two, perhaps that was less of an issue.

So pleased was Grant that no one one we going anywhere that he didn't quite pick up on the whole having to put a lid on his desires. He just felt so full all the time, like every little thing could set him off. It was an itch he would have to learn to scratch on his own for awhile, but that wasn't even on his mind. He was so relieved to just have Bucky, and now to really have Steve, that his grin became infectious enough to even make Steve smile too.

"Can we all please eat dinner now or are we taking thst slow too? The pasta is going to turn hard again. So wash your hands. Both of you!" He wasn't sure why he enjoyed bossing them around sometimes but he did. Probably because they could both toss him around but still deferred to him a lot of the time.

Dinner went well now that he had learned how much to make for each of their appetites. Bucky still got all of his proteins in easy to digest forms and Steve had enough to fill him. After dinner was Netflix on the couch, sleep in seperate beds and a new day ahead of them.

That night there was a storm, however. Something incredibly big, something centered on Building 7 where Banner was asleep watching Independance Day, where the machine was located to open up paths between realities moving concurrently with their own.

Banner and all of Building 7 vanished, unraveling like a sweater until he and it were gone like radioactive yarn. It singed the ground and the atmosphere, kicking up grass and dirt around the only thing they remained.

Grant was not the only person who didn't belong in this time and place. Not any more.

No, no, he was not.

While the residents of the compound buildings slept, the Rogers boys and Bucky tired but no longer so fractured, Tony drunk and sore over Pepper, Sam sleeping in his own room, and the others away on various missions, none noticed that Bruce Banner and his particular building were no longer in residence.

Instead, stood in the middle of the singed ground was a woman with long flowing black hair and brilliant green eyes. She did not know this place, this time, but she recognised the smell of Midgard. The sense of magic was different, the pull to her Asgard was gone, the pull to her Jotunheim similarly destroyed.

Suddenly dressed in skin-tight leather trousers and stilettos, with a low scooped green top, the woman sashayed over to the nearest building and rapped impatiently on the door.

Wherever this was, this was not where she held sway as Queen.

Because no one one else ws going to answer the door to his own garage, and DUM-E was totally banned from doing anything but pouting in the corner and thinking about what he had done, re: the scotch, Tony shuffled over to it (well, stumbled), ready to think Barnes for not scaring the shit out of him again and learning down to knock.

He was not expecting a woman he didn't know to be standing there. He rubbed furtively at his eyes. "N? Likelihood that I'm dreaming?"

"You are awake, sir. I am completely certain of that, but I welcome you to pinch yourself if you don't believe me," he sassed and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Are you a reporter? Becsuse your press pass was revoked this morning." This was t good. How long has she been snooping?

That was definitely not where she held sway as Queen.

Mortals on Midgard now knew how to recognise their Queen on sight and, though she allowed them many freedoms, none would dare speak with her this way. Interesting, a touch concerning, but she was a powerful sorceress and she knew how to travel between realms. Wherever she had ended, she was sure that she would find her way home.

She had better, for her sister would become restless and foolish without Loki there to temper her brash need for war.

"I am no reporter, mortal," she pushed past him with ease and into the building, disappointed at the lack of useful things around. "Tell me, what year and country is this?"

Mortal? He last person that Stark knew that called them periodically by their short lives in that particular accent pretty much hung around to decimate the Poptart and Coffee population before he rode back home in a rainbow. Tony knew that there had to be a lot of other Asgardians hanging around but he didn't expect to meet one.

Not exactly.

He stood by the door as she swept passed him and he might have checked out her ass in passing. He was only human and wow. That was amazing. "2014, United States of Tony Stark. Hello. Who are you?" There were sensitive things in this room. He had lots of projects going on and all of his legal stuff was still out and about.

He didn't need a visitor right now.

It was so strange to see a mortal so relaxed around her. Midgard had become enslaved centuries since, it had fallen in Jotun rule before she was even born and the rule of it passed to the second child in the royal lineage. Helblindi had become King of Jotunheim once Laufey had died, and Loki had taken rule of Midgard. The mortals did not have a bad life, they had adapted well to live in the colder climes of their realm once the Jotuns had taken it, and it had never been frozen quite to the degree of her home. But they knew their place, servants and slaves to the Jotnar and, since the iconic treaty was signed in her birth year, to the Asgardians too.

She had spent much of her childhood on Asgard, forging links with Thor whom she loved just as much as Helblindi and Bylestir. Thor, too, had spent many years upon Jotunheim, for the two realms that had once been such bitter enemies were now the closest of allies.

United States, she did not know that name. The settlements on Midgard were densely populated monoliths of glass and concrete, massive leaps in technology occurring to assist in communication and survival. But almost no weapon increases, for they were a world at peace under vassalage. So this, this was very strange.

"Who rules the United States of Tony Stark, mortal?"

She chose not to introduce herself, she did not owe courtesy to one who should be as a slave to her. It was so fascinating, usually mortals would kill for a moment in the presence of their Queen and being chosen to become her personal slave was the highest honour that most mortals could only dream of for their young.

"Sort of a joint rule," Tony frowned. He couldn't tell if she was just dumb, like Thor was about coffee makers and pocket watches, or if she was messing with him. "Me and Cap. Or maybe Wilson. Haven't pieced together if Cap is back-back or-- Wow. Stop flaunting your feminine alien wiles at me." He'd just been blabbing about things that didn't concern the general population. Not on Earth. Not on Asgard. No. "Listen, did you get lost? Wrong turn at Albuquerque?"

Did Asgardians just think it was okay to plop down? And why hadn't Veronixa let J know about the magnetic activity from the Bifrost opening? He hated it when Thor just showed up.

"Thor's probably still hanging around." He'd be with Jane Foster. Who was not as awesome as Pepper Potts no matter what Sir Drapes said. "If you're stuck I mean. If not. Uh. Okay, nice to meet you? You can go now. Bye."

Fortunate of her to meet the ruler of this particular settlement, though there needed to be discipline implemented if they did not know who was truly in charge. She would speak with Thor and see who had control of Midgard in this strange reality that she had found herself in, and she would take them in hand to tell them how to rule.

She pushed herself up onto one of the workbenches and crossed her legs, the leather of her pants sinfully tight against her skin.

"You will call my sister and have her come at once."

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