fossilised | It's AU time

It was exactly what Bucky needed. Sometimes he couldn't locate himself, or pin down which of his fluctuating realities was actually the true one, so to have it spelled out was really helpful. It still took about five minutes for him to focus on the walls, on the artwork around them, and then on Steve himself.

He let out a shuddering breath.

"Yeah-- yeah, I'm here, I'm okay. Movie. Fine. Space heater, I can be that."

He wasn't quite fine, but he sure as shit didn't want to flee to his own apartment where his only company would be his memories, he'd rather be useful here and help out with Steve who seemed to anchor him into the present. He even managed a shaky sort of smile.

"You pick the movie, okay?"

Once Steve had eased into the space between Bucky’s arm and his chest, knees still up because it felt better to breathe when he was scrunched up, he pulled up a menu from one of the food apps he had on his phone and opted for Chinese. He was just going to order a bunch of things and hopefully Bucky could get to the door to get them when they came. He wasn’t too hungry himself but he could practically hear the older man’s belly rumbling beneath his t-shirt.

In his sweater from the hospital, Steve tilted his head against Bucky’s shoulder and flicked through the offerings for rent on the screen before he settled on and finally selected Zootopia. Did he select a children’s movie for a reason? Absolutely. There was nothing in the animation that should be too frightening for Bucky and it had a good and wholesome message.

Also, Steve really loved Judy Hopps. She overcame her own physical limitations to be what she wanted to be. And that was a message he could get behind.

“You let me pick,” he murmured as he let his muscles go. “So this is all your fault if you don’t love it.”

Steve was a good friend to have, and he made a lot of the right decisions. Bucky nearly snatched the food from the delivery guy when he went down there out of a desire to be back up in the apartment, but other than that things went well. The cartoon movie was an excellent choice, and by the end of it Bucky would be a lot more relaxed by Steve's side.

"That was really cute, but if you ever tell anyone I said that, then I'll have to kill you."

He stretched and reached out to grab another egg roll, tossing it in his mouth in a much more casual way than the tense and efficient manner he'd eaten when the food first arrived and was unpacked.

"So-- if I'm gonna be a nurse for the next few days, you're gonna have to fill me in on how. I've never had pneumonia, or looked after anyone that does. Can I use my go-to flu nursing? Bed, pillows, bad TV, and lots of soup?"

“Minus the constant death threats, yeah,” Steve said, though he didn’t blame Bucky for that. That was just how male friends tended to react towards one another, with the constant jokes about violence. Steve had never had that before. He wasn’t a rough and tumble sort of kid, no matter how many times he tried to be. It didn’t always work out so well when scraped knees were the least of his worries. “But otherwise, you’re about right.”

Having Bucky around would be great, especially because he knew it was going to be worse before it got better. With fluid in his lungs, he needed to be extremely careful and hope that the medication didn’t affect anything in his inhaler.

He was trying not to make it seem like a burden, though. He didn’t want Bucky to be scared off. Having to take care of someone was a daunting task and Bucky had better things to do.

Probably. Then again, at least if he was here, Steve could make sure that he got himself some real food and not whatever was floating around upstairs. He was probably living off of ramen and ketchup packets.

“I only have one request. No daytime talk shows. I don’t care about anyone’s parentage. We’re going to be watching a lot of Disney.”

[This is totally the terrible sweater.]

"No can do, pal, Maury is my show."

Bucky put his feet up on the little coffee table, making sure that he kicked his shoes off first because he wasn't a total asshole, and wound his arm tighter around Steve to offer him that warmth that he needed. If his only job was being a space heater, then he would settle into it well.

"I watched a lot of it after-- in the hospital, before my discharge, the TV set in my room was pretty much Maury and Oprah, I got kind of addicted. America's Next Top Model too, I have to know how it goes."

He was only half kidding.

"So-- seriously, how can I help? I'm here for the long run, lay it on me."

((It is so perfect!))

Steve turned to try to get a good look up at Bucky but that seemed impossible. His neck was long and graceful but there was only so much it could do. Steve settled on looking at their reflection in the darkened TV screen, curtains drawn and remains of Chinese strewn about the table. His head slumped a little forward, cradled by the comfort of an arm.

"I guess you'll have to play go-for," Steve teased. "I'll wheeze and boss you around for a few days until you get sick of me. And I'll fall asleep on you right when you have to pee so you can't get up. It's your funeral. That's the price I enact for Next Top Model."

Steve handed the remote to Bucky, knowing he'd had to use the hand that was currently against his chest.

Pity. He liked that reassurance when he breathed.

Maybe it was a dumb thing to feel proud over, but Bucky couldn't help but feel a small glow of pride that he was actually going to do something to help someone else. For so long his world had been painted in blood and violence, and then it had been an endless cycle of self hatred over his inability to function like a normal person any longer, but this? This was good. He could do this.

He snorted and took the remote, deliberately flicking through the channels until he found the most vapid and stupid reality TV show possible. Only then did he slip his arm back around Steve, somehow the gesture not feeling awkward.

"You like the sweater, then? I had Nat pick it out, we met a couple of days back. She was really interested in if I was single, do you know anything about that?"

"I hate the sweater so much that it's now my favorite," Steve said, just the top of it peeking out before he shushed Bucky until the commercial break started. Honestly. How was he supposed to follow along if Bucky wouldn't let him pay attention?

He'd already dozed a little during Zootopia and had taken a little more medicine. His head wasn't exactly on straight though. He felt cotton mouthed and wheezy. His head ached. But Bucky felt good against him. Warm. Comforting and comfortable.

So he answered him when the Charmin commercial started, yawning and having to repeat himself. "She wants to set you up. Probably with Thor's friends. You'll need to tell her you'd rather date men or she'll start you off with the girls from her troupe first."

Somehow Bucky doubted that Nat actually wanted to set him up. Although they hadn't talked about it in so many words, within a few seconds of meeting she had already seemed to understand that he was pretty broken and not ready for going out on dates and that sort of thing. She had just come right out and said that her grandfather had fought in World War II and ended up with PTSD, she could still remember him and the effect that had on his entire family. He hadn't known what to say to that, so he'd just sort of pushed money at her and asked her to go and buy Steve a sweater.

That's when she'd asked if he was single. He had a feeling there was only one person she intended to try and set him up with.

"Wow, a load of hot ballerinas, sign me up. Now c'mon, I think you need to go to bed. You need any help getting there?"

"I've got it," Steve said, but only because he wasn't sure if he could get away with being carried. His personal belief was that he shouldn't be doing anything that made himself look weak because he wasn't weak, but it might have been nice to be carried just the same.

He did need help out if the blanket burrito he'd wrapped himself up in however, fighting it off as if it was some sort of evil living thing.

Sweater and all would end up heading to the bedroom with a stop off at the bathroom, preparing the moment he was in bed to once again Cleopatra himself in the quilt. He sounded terrible, still wheezing, and he asked for another glass of water he was probably not going to drink much of.

The stripes on the sweater peeked out of the blanket after Steve was comfortable, hair more of a mess looking than he had been before, and smiled softly at the worried man taking care of him.

"Couldn't do this without you, Buck. Thanks so much."

Bucky didn't insult Steve's pride by insisting on helping him, or by lifting him up, but he did stay pretty close behind him just in case he fell or swayed too much in getting ready for bed. At least he seemed fairly able to handle it, and was soon wrapped up in his blankets ready for sleep.

"Don't mention it, pal. Get some shut eye, I'll be out there so call if you need anything."

He slipped back out to the lounge and began to tidy up more carefully than he ever did in his own apartment, wanting to make sure that Steve had a good place to rest and recuperate. He meant what he said, he intended to stay on the couch for however long it took for Steve to get better, even if that was the full month up until Christmas and beyond.

He'd be there with soup, cold cloths, comforting words, or just company. Whatever was needed. He would be here when Steve needed him.

A few days of sickness turned to a few days of recovery and though Steve was feeling a lot better by the end of the week, he almost wanted to kill his illness just for a little while longer. It wasn't his fault that he enjoyed being taken care of, was it? He'd been on his own for a few years now and had taken care of his mother for a few years longer than that, which made it really hard to trust anyone that wanted to come into his life to look after him. Or it should have. Bucky was on another level. Perhaps because he understood what it was like to have a disability and a need to take care of yourself. Perhaps because it was easier to let go to someone that could commiserate, even if not in the same way.

"Do you feel like going for a walk?" Steve asked, wearing his already thrice washed sweater and a pair of boxers like it was normally to just hang around with your friend in your underwear. "That coffee you really liked when you were drunk comes from a shop two blocks up the road." Maybe he could get Bucky to be more comfortable being out if they took it slow and he was still a little sick and needed caring for?

Eight days he had now slept on Steve's couch, only disappearing upstairs to his own apartment once to fetch a bag full of clothes, and he hadn't had a nightmare once. It was a goddamn record, he had never gone so long without waking up in a cold sweat or, as on one or two completely humiliating occasions, with sheets the needed changing. But somehow being here had helped, and though his dreams hadn't always been pleasant, they had never woken him or caused him to cry out.

He liked taking care of Steve, he liked being around the other man a hell of a lot, and he was almost dreading Steve being better again. Such a selfish and mean thing to think, he should be happy that the pneumonia should be gone for Christmas. Steve would probably spend it with Nat, right? Dumb to think they might do something together.

Bucky had been reading a book when Steve asked the question, giving it proper thought before responding.

"You sure that your lungs are up for the cold air yet? Weather forecast said it's gonna freeze tonight."

"It's two blocks. And the eagle will protect me," Steve said, eyes brighter than the day before and armed with his inhaler. He was going stir crazy. Nat had been over the day before with photos of her vacation and Steve have been so completely moved by the fjords and the mountains that he had already been making plans in his head to travel there before they even got to the pictures of the Northern Lights. It all seemed so beautifully romantic and though Steve didn't consider himself to be, anyone that knew him would have said otherwise.

He was an artist. He saw the world in charcoals and water colors. And what more could the aurora be likened to if not that?

"I'll put an extra pair of socks on if that will make you happy. And bribe you with a pastry if you promise to sneak me out passed Nat's door so she won't insist I march back inside and get to bed. I have to start work Monday anyway." Steve thought he was making very good points right now. He was also putting on his boots. It had snowed a few days back but nothing had really stuck. Even so, this was meant to be a placating maneuver.

Not that he was asking for permission. He was going no matter what.

Bucky had stayed mostly out of the way when Nat had come around, they had shared a brief hello and friendly smile, but then Bucky had retreated to Steve's bedroom muttering about changing the sheets to leave them alone. He had caught snatches of conversation, though, and he knew it hadn't all been about Norway. There had been mentions of Steve and his love life too.

He frowned, still unsure, but he didn't want to stop Steve. He didn't want to trap him when he should be walking around and strengthening himself, not because Bucky was too much of a coward to go far beyond his front door.

"Yeah-- yeah, okay. But we're only going for coffee, and you have to wear a coat over the sweater and a scarf. And pants. No going out in your boxers, you'll cause a riot."

"Wow, that's rude," Steve said, but he really had forgotten to put pants on. Or rather, he was so distracted showing Bucky that he was fine and so used to walking around without much on that he'd forgotten utterly. A little hint of red creeped into otherwise still fairly pale cheeks. "My legs are not usually the cause of riots." He stormed back into his room to change into thick jeans and wrapped a scarf around his neck, pulled a stocking cap over his hair, and located his coat and gloves before he presented himself again. "Is this acceptable?"

He was such a happy young man as he and Bucky stole down the stairs, as happy as he'd been in awhile though his sickness had not made his spirits dampen. A large part of that was due to the tall, handsome man hanging out on his couch for the last week.

Stomping around down the street at dusk, the hustle and bustle of the city less than it would be in an hour when most offices let out and people were on their way home. Lights were just starting to come on inside homes and dotted the street corners as the lamps flared up. Steve kept his hands in his pockets, walking close to Bucky. He smiled up at him at the pedestrian crosswalk and then again when he got the door for his tall friend.

Just coffee. But they could enjoy it here right?

Bucky felt better with Steve than he would if he had been on his own, perhaps because of the inescapable presence and delight of his friend. Steve had an aura all his own that nobody else could quite replicate, it helped remind Bucky that there were good things in this world. But it didn't completely erase the bad, and he was tense as a bowstring when they finally made it to the coffee shop.

He glanced around at all the books when they made it inside, pleased that it seemed quiet in here, though his eyes immediately zeroed in on the man working here as if to assess him as a threat. Slight, handsome, and completely buried in a book. He glanced up when the door went and offered a small smile at Steve.

"So, you return from the depths of illness. Your usual?"

Loren had already begun to make it as he asked, pleased to have something to do. He had fought with Thor on his brother's return - Thor wanted them to share an apartment again, Loren had refused - and it had become very vocal. A distraction in the form of one of his more pleasant customers helped.

"And your friend, what does he want?"

Bucky concentrated very hard on being normal as he ordered a black coffee with an impressively steady voice.

"You almost sound like you missed me," Steve said, making the sentence finite so that Loren could shrug or smile and not have to talk to him again. He took off his gloves at set it down at one of the small tables along the wall, away from the window, and was in the process of removing his coat when the door swung open loudly. Not only did the bell chime but the door frame smashed against the wall too.

A man a little shorter than Bucky with a butterfly bandage on his forehead over his left eyebrow and a smarmy sort of smile headed right for the counter, arm in a sling over his coat and facial hair shaped a little strangely. On the back of his black bomber jacket was the logo of a mechanic shop Steve had seen in passing a few times near the ferry

He cleared his throat as Steve sat down and watched Loren, eyes significantly lower on him then about where his face would be when he turned around.

Bucky physically and noticeably jumped when the door slammed open so violently, going ashen as he sank down into a chair next to Steve and tried to keep his mind on the here and now. Whoever that jackass was, he needed to learn to enter a place more quietly, and he needed to not be looking at the barista that way. What an absolute dick.

Loren raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow as though unimpressed himself, though a tiny smile played the corner of his lips, and he very deliberately took his book out and sat down to start reading as if he hadn't noticed the audacious entry of the mechanic.

After Steve retrieved the drinks and the scones that would be forever known as Friendship Bread, he lightly rested his knee against Bucky's. It was just to ground him, or to try to. He couldn't help but be drawn into the drama happening a few feet away, though, and he settled his chin into his hand as he picked out the bits of cranberry from the pastry in front of him.

The older man in the bomber jacket scoffed loudly. "Don't do me like that, Ren. I actually took the subway all the way over. The doc won't let me on the bike yet," he complained, and Steve nudged Bucky and openly gaped at him.

"Wait, I recognize him... Wasn't he in the hospital...?" The guy with the towels around his head and his hand. Small world.

"Is that book really more interesting than I am?"

Tony was Loren's little secret, something that was his and his alone, something that Thor didn't know about.

Nobody would have thought the two would match well together, not with Loren's issues and Tony's audacious lifestyle, but they ended up forming a bond in the most unlikely of ways and had been together for quite some time now. Nearing a year, though Loren had determined not to tell his boyfriend to see if he would recall himself the date when it came around. Somehow he doubted it.

However, Tony was in his bad books at the moment after getting himself hurt in such a stupid way, and Loren had refused to take his calls for a few days. He shouldn't have come to the shop, there was a risk he could run into Thor and Loren did not want his brother and boyfriend to mix - partly because Thor did not know he was gay and partly because he feared Tony would like Thor more, everyone did.

So he continued to turn the pages of his book as if completely deaf to the man in front of him, though the smile at his lips did grow.

Tony sighed as if the whole world was set on the most annoyingly loose and loudest freaking floorboard in the house. "I can see you smile. It's in your eyebrows," he pointed out becsuse Loren's face was incredibly expressive even when half hidden behind a book. "I know my way back there. Or I'll just jump the bar."

He was very insistent and Steve was rooting for him, not because he suspected that this was a romantic relationship so much as he thought Loren was just playing around. He could see the side of his face anyway. And that face really was smiling.

"Listen. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I thought I could change the winch and that I did it without anyone around. And I'm sorry that you had to find me. But I'm glad you did. I owe you my life. That's got to be worth a direct smile right?"

That smile completely dropped from Loren's face and he snapped the book shut as if a call to arms. When he stood up, he completely towered over Tony even though he was thinner, green eyes intense and dangerous. Gone was the indulgence and affection, and in its place was genuine ire and, beneath that, fear.

"I thought you were dead when I found you."

His first words, and they were hissed out venomously in that lilting accent.

"You did not deserve to be saved, attempting something so foolish alone. I had thought you possessed even a small amount of intelligence, but it seems I have been proven wrong and your head is completely empty." He picked up his book again, hands shaking slightly as he repeated himself. "I thought you were dead."

This time Tony got to the book before Loren could open it again and return to ignoring him. "I know, baby I know and I'm sorry. I thought I had it and you have every right to be mad at me." And decide not not come over and help nurse him back to health. He understood. Loren was the sort to be brutal with his emotions. He held them close. Tony really did not.

But when Loren started talking in that incredibly sexy Scandanavian accent of his, oh Tony's heart (and loins) happened to be set on fire. Tony pulled up the edge of the bar and scooter passed the hinged board.

"It won't happen again. Why don't you tell your customers to finish up and come home with me?"

Loren may hold his emotions much closer to his chest than Tony did, but when he chose to love then he loved fiercely. He did not let many people past his barriers, did not consider most to be worth his time, and so his few worthy chosen few were hoarded as jealously as if they were actually his possessions.

He had thought he had lost one of them, and the healing wounds proved that he very nearly had. Still, perhaps he had punished Tony enough, and so he did bestow a small and wicked smile to him.

"I do not think that would be wise. Were I to take you home, your injuries would get no rest."

Bucky snorted from his table, unable to pretend he wasn't listening any longer. But at least the mini soap opera (seriously, who were these clowns?) had helped anchor him back in reality.

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running out to an appointment and then the theatre so won't be back til later <3

I'll be here during work and the train home but probably not tonight unless Jen goes to her mom's

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