fossilised | It's AU time

"I'm not going to ask what's wrong but I come in peace," Steve said, note in one hand and the bag of burgers in the other. He leaned against the door and shook the sack. "Big Mac? I promise you'll either feel better or have a heart attack after eating this. So... Maybe partake at your own risk."

He dropped the bag on a clean looking kitchen counter. Huh. Bucky had done wonders since he was last up here. He'd unpacked. The boxes were all broken apart and gone from the apartment. Steve tried not to look around too much but... Well. He was only human. He couldn't help himself.

"Should I let you alone to deal with your overages?" he joked, making sure that Bucky was okay. "You shouldn't just leave the door open..."

"Damn it."

Bucky jumped when he saw Steve, and his expression just got a little more annoyed. "I left the door open so I would be able to hear you on the stairs when you got back and come down to see you, guess that didn't work out so well."

His apartment was mostly utilitarian, a ratty blue sofa, a bookcase with a few books, and a grey rug in front of an old TV set. The only pieces of personality were the drawing of outlaw Bucky on the fridge, and a photograph of Bucky arm in arm with a younger girl who looked a lot like him, both smiling like goofballs.

"It's what you said about my family, I can't get it out of my fucking head. I've been trying to work up the nerve to call since you left, just say Happy Christmas and I'm alive, and I still haven't done it."

Steve wasn't going to take that personally. He knew Bucky wasn't blaming him. So he moved into the room and oh, that picture was beautiful of Bucky and a girl that was likely his sister! He reached out to gently take the phone from his hand and then pushed it into Bucky's pocket. "It's not ready yet," he said. "You'll know when you're ready."

He wasn't qualified to be giving this sort of advice but he knew a little bit about obsession and the best thing to do was to distract. He could do that easily enough. He just neeeed to be the distraction. Steve thought that was one particular hardship he didn't mind.

Putting himself in Bucky's space, he gestured over his shoulder at the bag. "I didn't know if you were a burger guy so I got nuggets too. They're vaguely ball shaped."

Bucky snorted and leaned down to press a fierce and sudden kiss to Steve's lips. God, he had only been able to kiss him for like a day and it was already something that he didn't think he could do without in the future. That was a dangerous fucking thing, he was falling too hard and too fast and getting too attached, he needed to step back. But he wasn't.

"'Preciate it, Steve, but I've gotta do this now or it'll eat at me."

Steve's right, he's not even close to ready. But now that Steve had put the idea into his head that he owed his family that much, the guilt would never let him go until he did it.

"You do it, you dial, then I can't chicken out."

Their first kiss was only hours ago but it felt like this was just normal, like her kissed and been kissed by a icky a hundred, thousand times. It was an easy feeling to fall into, an easy way to be, but the real world was still there, poking holes in everything, and Steve let himself just a single second to savor the way it felt to be so fericely kissed before he slipped his hand back into Bucky's relaxed jeans.

The phone didn't have a passcode on it and he took it over to the couch to flip through the contacts. MOM was easy enough to find and he placed the phone on a small table being used as a foot rest of a coffee table before he glanced up at Bucky.

His eyes played off the couch and he let out a breath before he pressed the call button. It rang three times before a tired sounding woman answered. "Hello?"

Wait, no, he changed his mind. Could he not talk to his family and maybe just stay kissing Steve all night long? That would be a way better and far less terrifying use of his time. But then the number was dialled and the phone was ringing and he seemed to be frozen in place.

She sounded so tired. Why? It wasn't that late. Was she working shifts now? Did she still have the same job? Was she sick? His brow furrowed and his voice nearly died in his throat, but he forced the words out sounding weird and raspy.

"Mom, it's-- uh, it's James." His eyes flicked up to Steve for support, glad he'd put it on speaker because he didn't think he could hold the phone right now. "Merry Christmas."

There was a moment of silence. It seemed like it might stretch on forever before the woman's voice finally responded. "James? Oh my god, Merry Christmas!" The rest was spoken so quickly and with more emotion than she probably meant and Steve could barely make out what she was saying. "It's been months, I've had no way of getting in touch with you. The VA called a few times and there was someone from the Wounded Warriors program that stopped by-- Jimmy, are you all right? We've been so worried!"

There was more than that sobbed into the receiver by a scared and happy and relieved mother but the words were lost upon Steve's ears and probably to anyone else's either. Her tears were audible and it made the blond reach out to take Bucky's hand.

It was so nice to have that. But he had no idea how his friend might react.

Sometimes he just turned his own emotion to anger.

It was smart of Steve to think that Bucky might get angry, because the expression on his face certainly darkened with it. Not at his mother, but at the army and the VA who dared to fucking send someone to his family home like they had any right to contact him after what happened.

"If they come by again, slam the door in their face, I don't need the VA or the Wounded Warriors shit, I'm fine."

That was no way to talk to his mother, too rough and angry, and maybe all of this was a mistake. He swallowed hard and took a step back, clearly on the verge of just running out of the damn room.

"Steve-- Mom, this is Steve, he'll tell you, I'm fine. I have to go. Sorry... I'm sorry."

And he turned and ran like a coward, abandoning his own apartment with Steve in it and Winifred Barnes sounding like she was crying, her voice echoing down the line.

"Jimmy, no! Wait! Please-- Jimmy? James? S-Steve?" He had said someone else was there, right?

"Buck--". Damn it! Steve kept the curse in and stood only to see around the corner where Bucky was going, before he snatched up the phone and went to sit back down on the edge of the sofa. "Mrs. Barnes? Hi. It's Steve. I'm-- I'm so sorry. I really am. I'm Bucky's-- I'm James' downstairs neighbor. We've become friends over the last few months. I-- its not my place to really tell you... No."

Ah, he didn't even know what to say right now. He couldn't out Bucky to his mother to say he and her son were in a romantic relationship. She could figure out by the area code that he was calling from New York so saying it outloud was pointless.

And about his issues--

"He's having a hard time. Since his discharge--"

"His arm? They told me that he had missed an appointment with his-- I can't even say it," she wept.

"You don't need to. He's doing really well. He just is afraid that you'll be upset with him and-- Well I suppose that was realistic to be afraid of that, ma'am. But just know that he's doing all right. He has friends here thst really care about him. He just-- he wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. And so do I. But let me give you my number. You can call or text if you need anything. Just give James some time."

He hung up shortly after and headed into the hall. He hoped Bucky was there or downstairs. Otherwise he'd just wait for him in his apartment until he returned.

Winifred couldn't stop crying all through the phone call, feeling both as if she had found her baby and lost him again all at once. He sounded really bad, not like her Jimmy at all. There was no way that she would be able to keep herself from researching this phone number and finding his address, though she wouldn't go down there if she could keep herself strong. She'd probably have to try and keep Rebecca from haring off down there too, she wouldn't want to just sit idly by.

Steve sounded nice, she really hoped he was a good friend for her boy. She thanked him in a choked voice and took his number gratefully, telling him to call her Winifred, and then let him hang up.

Bucky wasn't far. He was just down a floor sat outside Steve's apartment with his back against the front door, glaring up at Steve as he came down as if this was all his stupid blond idiot friend's fault for putting the idea in his head in the first place.

"Well that was a fucking disaster."

Bucky had complicated everything by moving in upstairs. Steve had never had to work so hard for anything. It was as if Bucky's ease came at a price with all of the baggage towed under the surface. At least most of that was floating now, no less light but still visible.

Steve sat on the second to last step, looking at Bucky through the spindles of the staircase. Once upon a time, this place had been so nice. The cheapness and rent control meant that the building owner didn't do a whole lot of upkeep. The wood of the banister needed to be sanded and repainted.

"I'm real sorry."

And Steve was. He looked almost ashamed of himself, staring now at his hands as if he could blame them. "I'm... I'm not the best person for advice. I'll stop giving it."

"I'm not mad at you, you stupid punk."

Okay, maybe he was a little mad at Steve, but that wasn't fair because his advice was good advice. And even if he had complicated everything, Steve had already helped Bucky a whole hell of a lot more than he might realise. He smiled, he laughed sometimes, and he actually trusted someone. That was huge.

"It was hearing the VA had gone 'round and hassled my Ma. What right do they have to go butting in and telling her personal stuff about me? I didn't tell them-- I didn't want them to know what happened, and it turns out that they got told anyway by someone else. Fuck."

"From... What I gathered was that they had tried to set up an appointment for a new refitting for your arm. I guess you hadn't gotten around to changing your address yet so someone went to the house." Mrs Barnes didn't seem like she knew a whole lot. She'd been told when Bucky was brought home that he had been severely injured. That he'd lost a limb. And that he hadn't given family permission to come onto the base.

Steve bit his lower lip.

"She just was so happy to know you were all right. I didn't... I didn't tell her anything real, Buck. No real information. But I said you were settled in and had friends that cared for you." He ended up pressing his thumbs against his eyelids.

He'd give anything to have his mom poking and prying into all of his stuff. He really would. But he understood that every family and every son and mother were different.

"She loves you. She just wants what's best for you. And I really don't think she knows everything." Steve didn't think anyone but Bucky did.

She wasn't even meant to know that he'd lost a limb. He had wanted to keep everything from his family and let them preserve his memory as what he used to be, a literal idiot's pipe dream because there was no way of making it happen. A part of him knew it had been unsustainable and he hadn't been protecting his family by staying away so much as protecting himself by burying his head in the sand, but now he couldn't lie to himself any more.

It was probably for the best, it was just terrifying.

He scrubbed his hand over his face and then pushed himself up from in front of the door, offering his hand out to Steve to help him up from his perch on the stairs if he anted it.

"I know she does, that's why I was trying to protect her. She doesn't deserve to have to deal with the mistakes I made, and I'm just-- I'm so angry they couldn't leave her alone. But I swear I'm not mad at you, don't stop-- giving me advice and being the little asshole you are, because you mean a lot to me."

"I kind of think it's mandatory to tell next of kin...." Which meant that his mom very likely was aware that he'd gone missing too. Steve felt badly for everyone in this situation and the liquid of his eyes collecting along his lash line pretty much said as much even as he accepted Bucky's hand up. "You need to go and lock up your apartment. There aren't as many nice people living here as me and Nat make it seem."

They were in a low rent area. Thst meant that it wasn't all that safe.

"And I brought you dinner. Can you-- will you stay tonight? I know you've been staying every night for a week, but I want you to stay with me." The words were loaded. He knew that. Standing on the second step, at least he could look Bucky directly in the eye while they spoke. "Get the McDonald's and a change of clothes, okay?"

That wasn't quite an order but it certainly was forceful.

Bucky's eyebrows rose a little. Now that they'd kissed and admitted that they liked one another, it was certainly a more loaded question than before. But he didn't think that Steve was the sort to want to jump into bed with just anyone so soon, especially when they weren't even formally dating, so he was just going to assume that he was being asked to sleep on the couch again.

He hadn't even thought about how his Ma would probably find out where he lived now, and that meant he was probably on a countdown to Rebecca showing up and chewing him out for disappearing on them. He just knew that he was starting to relax now the call was over and there was just Steve again.

"Yeah... yeah, okay. Maybe-- maybe you can show me some more of your art tonight? You know I really love it, you're so talented."

Also he really wanted to not focus on himself for the night. So he darted past Steve upstairs to his apartment to grab what he'd been told to bring, before slipping back down again to Steve's place.

Steve actually hadn't planned on Bucky getting the couch again. His bed was just small, though, but with Bucky's help, he could pull out the futon to a bed. That would be big enough for the two of them. If Bucky slipped up close to him. He just wasn't ready for for sex. His first time had to be meaningful and amazing and he wasn't in any rush. But that didn't mean that the idea of a body sleeping beside him wasn't thrilling.

He was already trying to unfold the futon when Bucky came back. He'd get his art supplies after that and they could sit up and look at them or discuss a comic maybe? It could be fun to collaborate and eat that fifty piece of chicken nuggets he'd gotten Bucky until they flopped together like puppies.

The futon was really fighting him though. All of his romantic fantasies were on hold as he growled and pulled at the wooden slats.

"Come. On!"

Bucky set the chicken nuggets down on the side table and dumped his clothes by the end of the couch, and then just leaned against the door jamb of the bedroom and started to laugh. Silently at first, but it built and built until he was almost hysterical, the sound rare but chasing away the dark clouds that usually existed on his face to make him look younger and more carefree.

He couldn't help it, it was just the most adorable sight he had ever seen. Because of course Steve would struggle with the furniture and get frustrated at it in such a family friendly manner.

He was just... unreal. Fucking perfectly unreal, and he couldn't go and help out because he was too busy dying of laughter watching.

The laughter startled Steve enough to drop the tension rod and it flung itself back and snapped into place. He glanced over his shoulder and Bucky and put his hands on his hips before he crossed his arms over his chest for a more masculine appearance.

"Thanks for all of your help, Sergeant," he said as gravely as possible. "If we end up folded into a couch at some point tonight I will be blaming you."

But he could hardly manage to look angry. Not when Bucky's laughter was infectious and felt good to hear after he was so hurt and angry.

He turned fully, tilting his head to the side.

"We aren't both going to fit on the sofa and I'm a little too old for sleeping bags on the floor."

Even Steve looking faux annoyed couldn't stop his mirth. He really needed that after today, it helped to push the terrible conversation with his mother out of his mind (stupid, really, that was just burying his head in the sand some more), and let him focus on the good points in his life. Namely, Steve, who was pretty much the best thing in his life at the moment.

"If we end up folded into a couch, you can blame your own bad craftsmanship. Come on, who can't put up a futon?"

He didn't even mind being called Sergeant, stepping forward to put his hand on Steve's hip, eyes full of warmth.

"Jeez, has anyone told you that you're gorgeous today?"

Bucky made Steve's heart regularly stop beating. It was probably the most amazing thing about all of this and it was the only medical condition that didn't immediately freak him out feeling.

"This guy I'm probably going to ask out did say my eyes were gorgeous," Steve said, leaning towards Bucky. His hand moved up the chest of the man in front of him, feeling muscle and sinew and none of the ugly scars that told entirely too many stories.

He found Bucky to be the beautiful one here and he gazed up at him with heat and attraction and a surety that this was real and it was good and even if it wasn't entirely conventional, it didn't matter.

God... He wanted him.

"You're going to have to try real hard to win me over. My heart's set on that other guy."

There was something so very honest about Steve, as if nobody with those eyes could ever tell a lie. Which was stupid, everybody lied sometimes, but he just seemed so open and like every emotion crossed his face without any boundaries on it being appropriate or not. To be looked at with that heat... it was amazing, it was something that he never thought he'd have again after the war.

"Forget him, he sounds like a jerk."

He bent his head and pressed a feather light kiss to the corner of Steve's lips, and then another and another in between his words.

"He's not even here. You snooze you lose, buddy, you need to move on and find someone else."

It was hard to really concentrate and to play the game when Bucky took his breath away like that and so the best Steve could come up with as a retort between lips being pressed to his was that: "I think you two would get along, actually." After that, he took as much command as his five foot, four inch body would allow him and tugged Bucky into a kiss much better than the few light pecks pressed to his mouth. That was a tease. This was passion.

Sure, it was too fast and too heavy for the both of them. Bucky should have focused on himself. Steve was never quick about anything and still inexperienced. If Bucky wanted a lover, there were a thousand better people to choose!

Steve just decided that he wasn't letter go. It felt right to back them up so that Bucky and he collapsed against the couch-mode futon. He had no intention of going too far but surely this whole thing called for a lot of making out, right?

That's what they had been doing right around the time that Nat pulled him away anyhow!

It was almost midnight. The air was cold. Christmas lights dazzled across the city. But all Steve wanted was the man he hoped he could help put back together because Bucky was so, so special.

A whole load of making out sounded good to Bucky. He had never expected to find someone who looked at him with such desire in his eyes, especially not someone like Steve who should have a million and ones guys and girls falling over themselves to ask him out and treat him right. But he wasn't complaining, especially not when Steve toppled them onto the futon together.

He wound his arm around Steve's slender waist to hold him close, just savouring the kisses without needing to progress to anything more. He had already mentally decided that he was going to let Steve set the pace for their physical relationship anyway, he didn't want to force the man to be okay with getting naked with all those scars, so... it was all on what Steve wanted.

By the time he came up for air, his lips and cheeks were red and his eyes were much darker with desire, curled up in a proper smile for once.

"Seriously, Rogers, that other guy... dump his ass, date me, I'll be a good boyfriend."

"Are you asking me out then, Buck?" They probably should unfold the futon. As much as Steve liked being curled around Bucky like this, limbs entwined, he figured that if he had an asthma attack in the middle of the night, he wanted to at least attempt to not wake Bucky up. "Because if you are, I'm going to say yes. You're a much better kisser and that guy told me to lie to my best friend about how he made my toes curl. You actually did."

Half an hour later, with the windows fogged from the temperature that Steve kept the place and with snow falling outside, not wet enough to actually stick to the pavement, Steve convinced his friend to pull out the futon with him. And convinced him to take off that stupid prosthesis to sleep because, honestly, it probably needed to be refitted anyway so that it would stop hurting so much, and, once all that was done, he stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and climbed into a proper bed for the first time in who knew how long.

He never had trouble stretching out before. But stretching out next to someone else? That was nice.

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