Bucky Barnes (
advanced) wrote in
fossilised2017-03-14 08:58 pm
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It's AU time
Building 64 down in the East end of Brooklyn was not a fashionable place to live. The apartments were small, barely more than studio size, and the rent was pretty cheap. Not many people lived there permanently, most people only came and stayed a year or two to get enough money together to move onto somewhere better. But there were two residents who had been there a while.
Steven Grant Rogers, early twenties, who earned his rent doing tattoo designs part time to fund his college course, and occasionally dipped his toe into online art commissions. He'd moved in there when his mother had died four years previously, leaving him enough money to get by, but not enough that he could stop working. And right across the hall was Natalia Romanova, an aspiring ballerina from Russia. She was tough as hell, she had worked herself right through high school, paid her own way to America when she didn't even speak the language, and kept going through tenacity alone.
Somehow a friendship had struck up between them when Steve had been the first person not to look at her like she was an idiot or disgusting for not speaking the language. He'd helped her learn, and they'd been firm friends for the last three years. Everyone else was transient, coming and going, not really making an impact. Natalia had friends and a boyfriend outside of the apartment, but she sometimes worried that Steve never seemed to do anything but work and study.
Which was probably why he would be in his apartment when a loud crash sounded on the stairs outside. Said crash had come from a box of (now very broken) plates and bowls being dropped by the man just moving in to the apartment directly above Steve's, judging by the amount of cardboard boxes that were littering the hallway. He was tall, muscled, dressed in faded jeans and a hoodie with long slightly scruffy hair, leather gloves, and deep blue eyes.
Steven Grant Rogers, early twenties, who earned his rent doing tattoo designs part time to fund his college course, and occasionally dipped his toe into online art commissions. He'd moved in there when his mother had died four years previously, leaving him enough money to get by, but not enough that he could stop working. And right across the hall was Natalia Romanova, an aspiring ballerina from Russia. She was tough as hell, she had worked herself right through high school, paid her own way to America when she didn't even speak the language, and kept going through tenacity alone.
Somehow a friendship had struck up between them when Steve had been the first person not to look at her like she was an idiot or disgusting for not speaking the language. He'd helped her learn, and they'd been firm friends for the last three years. Everyone else was transient, coming and going, not really making an impact. Natalia had friends and a boyfriend outside of the apartment, but she sometimes worried that Steve never seemed to do anything but work and study.
Which was probably why he would be in his apartment when a loud crash sounded on the stairs outside. Said crash had come from a box of (now very broken) plates and bowls being dropped by the man just moving in to the apartment directly above Steve's, judging by the amount of cardboard boxes that were littering the hallway. He was tall, muscled, dressed in faded jeans and a hoodie with long slightly scruffy hair, leather gloves, and deep blue eyes.
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He rolled his hips in that same motion again, nearly sliding all the way out before he pushed back in. He started slow, careful, only letting loose a bit more when he felt Steve start to relax into it and really enjoy it. He had to use his hand for balance, pressed to the side of Steve's hip, but he made up for it by kissing him senseless as he moved.
He tried to find the angle that would have Steve losing his goddamn mind, begging for more, even while fighting off his own rapidly approaching orgasm.
"Feel so good, Steve, so-- Christ Almighty."
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He didn care that the walls were thin or that he sounded like he was in an overly dramatic television show where sounds were used instead of the actual actors to denote the sex they were play acting for their audience. He accepted every kiss and gave them back, leaving some hickies on Bucky's throat for his trouble, when Bucky could not longer hold himself back.
And that was all right. Steve was pleasantly sore and after Bucky had finished making it obvious that they needed more than just one condom, Steve and his boyfriend shared duties on getting him off for the second time. There was a lot of mess to clean up after that, though Steve happily had waste baskets and tissues everywhere and neither had to move far to remove the sweat and semen from their skin.
Steve curled up with Bucky, plucking at the buttons of his shirt, he found himself chuckling.
"That was-- I thought it was going to be... But you made it so-- I'm going to shut up now Steve decided and kissed Bucky sweetly instead, fingers tracing patterns in the skin of one of his hips. Maybe Nat could let him borrow a few more condoms later-- he'd buy her a whole box tomorrow when the stores opened up again. All he knew was that she was right. He wanted to never get out of bed.
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"Wait 'til you fuck me, Steve, that's a whole new kind of pleasure."
He wasn't sure what he enjoyed more, fucking or being fucked, but he knew that both of them were amazing in different ways. He didn't want Steve to feel like just because he was the physically smaller of the two of them, that he had to bottom all the time, Bucky would love to get pinned under him and let him do whatever he wanted.
A smile curled his lips up and he pressed a kiss to Steve's forehead. "Okay, so... I'm not drunk, maybe a bit buzzed from the sex, but-- I really am falling in love with you. Do you think that's fucking crazy this early?"
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Steve sat up, still just wearing a pair of white crew socks, and he turned so that he was facing the man laying on his bed. His hand slipped up Bucky's shirt without removing it. He was just touching. That was one of the rules after all.
"But i don't think it's wrong. Or too fast. Who gets to decide what works and what doesn't, other than the two of us? I know I'm going to be in love with you. I just want to wait until the lust settles down so I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt what I feel..." Steve leaned down to kiss Bucky gently before he bounded out of bed and found his phone in his pocket. "Just-- one sec..."
He scooted out of the room while texting, and then waited by the front door for a little knock and a laughing redhead with a shoebox for him.
"Thor and I decided you might wish to try many things. You are welcome," she said and pulled the door shut herself, Steve's bare shoulder and arm all that had been visible in the doorway anyway. She'd get the details out of him later, but he looked so happy. That made her happy too.
And it made her want to kick Loren and Tony out now too.
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Though he can't help wondering if his Ma has told Becca that he called, if they've found out where he lived, if one or more of them will show up when he's least expecting it.
All those thoughts drive out of his head when Steve comes back in with a shoebox full of supplies making him grin and lounge on the futon, shirt rucked up so that he was completely on display.
"You already thinking about trying me out for size, Steve?"
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He blinked at them all and then climbed back into bed, pushing most of the objects back into their box where they belonged. They could look through them later when Steve was less amorous and willing to google things.
Steve climbed back into Bucky, standing over him a minute before he crouched against his thighs and kissed him with slow, steady rocking movements. Getting hard for the third time that day would take a little effort. Touching. Kissing... And yes. He wanted the romance of it too. He wanted the build up. He brought Bucky's hand to where he needed it most and together they slowly worked him back to hardness.
In the hallway, six or seven minutes later, Tony glanced at the door literally just shut in his face as the music from inside turned up. It wasn't loud enough to drown out Bucky and Steve though, and Steve's soft huffs actually left Tony feeling hard too.
"I think it's now a prerequisite that we join in with all of the Christmas sex," he told Loren, licking his lips as Steve could be heard murmuring how good it all felt.
He'd taken Bucky on his stomach. It was just easier for him since Steve wasn't that athletic. He was moving slowly, taking his time, memorizing the curve of his back as he leaned over to kiss it.
This was why he was glad he had waited. Not for the root beer flavored lube exactly, but because making love properly required love.
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Out in the hallway, Loren grinned at Anthony and pushed him back against the wall to kiss him right there outside the two apartments. They had spent all day with his charming older brother and Anthony hadn't had eyes for anyone but Loren, that had just cemented his desire to keep Anthony forever.
"You may fuck me, my Anthony, but you had best do it quickly for we have much work to do. I have many books to pack, and the drive from my apartment to your house is long."
Perhaps not the most conventional way to ask someone to move in together, especially as he was inviting himself to live with Anthony, but Loren was nothing if not direct with his wants.
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Nothing else outside of his boyfriend even mattered right now anyway.
And that wasn't a terrible thing, considering how scandelous of a scene was going out just outside of the front door. Tony wasn't sure what he liked better-- the kink Loren was into or that, after a long time of dating, he was finally going to get his boyfriend to move in with him. He'd only been asking for three months now.
With the shined up old wood banister in fairly good condition, and with most of the building out celebrating Christmas, Tony didn't mind taking a chance on being caught. He pulled down their jeans, hooked one of Loren's pale thighs over the wood, and with a little saliva and many, many practice sessions, pulled the taller man back onto his erection.
"Does this mean I get to be blown every morning?" he asked, fist in Loren's hair. They were rarely gentle. It was a complete juxtaposition to how lovingly Steve worked inside of his new lover.
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"We shall see if you deserve to be woken in such a way each morning."
He made sure to grind back onto Anthony in a way well practised at making him hiss with pleasure, for this needed to be quick and dirty with how exposed they were. He took himself in hand and pushed himself to his own completion, twitching around Anthony's relentless thrusting as he came.
To live with Anthony would be a new and interesting experience. He hoped they would find themselves growing closer, rather than intruding on one another's space, but only time would tell with that. He knew that Anthony did not have many people, his parents both dead and no living family to rely on, just some friends and his mechanic business.
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She shrieked as Thor picked her bodily up and transported her to the sofa where he gave her a light spanking on an already bare bottom. "You should be more worried about what you can take. A whole week without sitting will take some skill and effort to cause and endure," Thor grinned, and before Tony finished coming into Loren, they were both clean and exclusive and had no need for condoms, Natalia's own voice joined the others in their link across the hall. Thor himself could be a beast. Luckily, the chair was pretty steady.
Tony and Loren were loud enough to coax Steve from bed, having been contented to just lay in Bucky's arms as his third afterglow overtook him, until that particular noise roused him from sticky sheets.
"I-- remind me to get some strong cleaner for the banister."
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"It's all your fault, Steve, you're so damn hot that everybody just had to get in the mood, so I'm blaming you if I get some weird disease from the banisters."
Okay, fine, he would move. He rolled off the bed with an undignified grunt and meandered into the living room to set the coffee pot going. He needed something to eat and drink or he was going to sleep the rest of Christmas away.
"Say, Steve? Merry Christmas."
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Three hours later, when it was quiet and they were showered and dressed, Bucky sat on the bottom step heading towards his floor and Steve was left polishing questionable stains from the wood when someone downstairs knocked on the door instead of buzzed.
Steve could just make out the shape, probably a woman and very petite. Evidently she didn't know that you had to use the buzzer? Steve made a move like he'd toss the dirty rag onto Bucky's head before he headed down the stairs.
His mind was mostly taken up with Bucky's dick when he pulled open the door. The woman looked familiar, and Steve narrowed his eyes. "Who're you looking for?" He asked, just as the girl looked up the stairs to see Bucky peering over.
"James!"
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And--
God.
He froze, staring over the banister in genuine horror. She had found him so quickly, and he wasn't ready, he wasn't even close to ready. There was a moment when he looked like he might cry, before he bolted into Steve's apartment, being the closest and also where his prosthetic had been discarded, and slammed the door behind him.
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Rebecca tried to get in the door but Steve was in her way and thanks to her own small size, he was actually bigger than she was. "You're Rebecca, right? Bucky's sister...?" Maybe he shouldn't get in the way here, but Steve just wanted to diffuse the situation a little.
"Who the hell are you? Get out of my way!"
This wasn't the time for giving himself a label so he just tried to smile kindly. "I'm Steve. I spoke with your mother two nights ago... Hi. It's nice to meet you..." He offered her hand and she finally bullied right passed him, leaving Steve bruised from the knob going into his back. Ouch. "Hey!"
She was already storming up the stairs, shouting, however. "Jimmy! I am going to claw your god damned eyes out!"
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He had managed to wrestle his prosthetic on, and then a long sleeved shirt over the top. He couldn't find his gloves, they were probably upstairs in his own place, so he had to settle for shoving the fake hand into one of the pockets of his pants. He was panicked as hell, but there was nowhere for him to run, especially not when he heard her screaming on the stairs.
Maybe he deserved this. No, not maybe, he definitely deserved this.
Feeling strung out and ready to snap any moment, a far cry from the relaxed and grinning man he had been most of the rest of the day, he braced himself for her incoming since he hadn't locked Steve's apartment door, eyes turned down to the ground like a kid caught doing something wrong.
"...hey, 'Becca," he managed, voice a bit raspy. "Merry Christmas?"
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But Steve stood his ground. The tables hadn't been put away yet but the dishes left here were done and most of the clothing left scattered from before were in his hamper. He smirked. "This is my apartment. And could you stop shouting?"
At least he hadn't asked her to stop cursing so that was a plus!
"Would you like some coffee--"
"No. No," she replied immediately. "I want my brother back."
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"Don't-- shove me again."
He kept his voice deceptively mild and very carefully neutral. He didn't want to yell at his sister and it was easier to do this by shutting down, Steve would probably recognise the danger signs even if Becca might not.
"I get it, you're pissed, but I had to go. I'm a grown ass man, I can make my own decisions about where and when I go."
Like the decision he'd made to go into the army against their better judgement. Idiot.
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It wasn’t his place, that’s what the voice in his head told him, to pry into any of this, but Steve wasn’t one to let a bully go. Rebecca wasn’t actually trying to get involved in picking on her brother here, but that was what was happening and Steve couldn’t just let that stand. He pushed his way between the two, receiving the next push (as a sibling, Becca couldn’t just back down from that sort of challenge), in place of Bucky. It didn’t hurt, but he did stumble back. “You’ve got to stop,” Steve said, being as commanding as he possibly could.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about it!”
“Yeah, yeah I do,” Steve said right back and moved forward to regain the ground she’d forced him to lose. His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. “And you’re going to have a seat, over there, and drink some coffee and have a cookie. And then we’re going to talk.”
Becca was left scowling on the couch, though her eyes were mostly taken in by the painting that sat almost finished by the window of the woman with the red umbrella in the rainy city. Steve made everyone coffee and put out safe to consume cookies on a plate decorated with tinsel. He offered Becca the cookies first, and then Bucky before he took one for himself. By then, Becca had calmed down enough to let her shoulders slump.
“Jim… We’ve just really missed you. I’ve been harassing the VA about you for months now. We didn’t hear anything until one of your doctors called about a missed appointment-- We thought you died. We were so worried.”
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He just ended up crumbling his cookie in his hand, eyes darting anywhere but to look at her face. He didn't want to see Steve's either, sure his boyfriend would be disappointed with him over missing appointments he should have gone to. Prosthetic appointments, VA appointments, physical and emotional therapy, he had just run from them all.
"Yeah-- well, I'm not dead, see?" He had no idea how to handle this, voice sounding weird to his own ears. "I didn't know you'd been in to see me, I thought-- I thought it would be better if you didn't see. You and Ma, you warned me what would happen, you don't deserve to have to deal with the fallout."
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“You’re seriously a massive idiot.” Becca frowned as she watched her brother crumble cookies into the nice blue area rug under him. “I’ve been literally dealing with you for a thousand years. Or it feels like it, man. My whole life, you’ve been nothing but a pain in the neck and evidently you forgot to calculate that your family would want to be there for you. Gee thanks. You’re insanely bad at decisions, dude. That’s like, the story of your damned life.”
Steve had sat down on the other end of the couch with Rebecca, more than willing to step right on back into the fray if it meant protecting Bucky. He did, however, keep his mouth shut. This wasn’t meant for him.
“Mom and I are always, always gonna be there for you. Even when you run away from us. And from your doctors. Jeez, Jim. Can’t you just…like…come by and say hello? Pick up the phone? We love you.”
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But at the same time he just wanted to hug her so tightly and never let go. She looked so grown up now, like a real adult instead of someone almost there.
"No, I can't," he stood up as he refused and backed up a step, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry. You have to go. Now. I'm sorry you wasted your time on Christmas coming out here, but I can't do this, I'm not-- I'm not who you think I am any more. He's dead, he died out there, so just go."
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"She shouldn't have to drive home tonight. We should let her stay on the couch. I know-- I know how you feel. Like this has to be on your terms, but you guys are family. And it's Christmas. And I want to hear all about how much of a snot nosed brat you used to be..."
He gently brushed his fingers up into Bucky's hair.
"If I can get her to stop shouting profanity...? Please? It just means that we have to be really quiet tonight is all."
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"I can't do it, Steve. You don't get it, you never knew me when I was me. I was so confident, the biggest damn extrovert, nothing scared me. How can I let them see what I am now? Jesus, Steve, they took everything that was me away, I still don't feel real most of the time."
He was rambling now, fingers clutched tight to the front of Steve's shirt.
"It's like when I close my eyes I only have there or home, and I can't let them get mixed up together, or I won't have anything good left. I don't want this to destroy them too, please, Steve, don't make me do this."
He should, though, because it would be good for him. Because if he pushed Rebecca out now then he might never reconnect with his family, and the only reason he wanted her gone were his own fears.
"I love them, I can't let them see."
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It broke his heart to see poor Bucky like this. Steve almost wilted, but Bucky's need for him to be strong kept him together. He nodded very gently and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.
"You love me and let me see you like this." It was presumptuous. He knew that. He should have used different terms but he wanted Bucky to understand. "You're not lost. You're different from how you used to be because we are all different from te people we used to be. You can do this. It's just for a little while. And then she can visit again in a few weeks. How's that? Compromise, okay? Work with me. We can put her upstairs in your place and you can stay with-- there's really no reason for you to keep that apartment anyway."
Love and sex and moving in on the same day?
Bucky needed to stop Steve's run away mouth here.
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"Are you-- asking me to move in with you? Seriously?"
He gave a kind of half hiccup and half laugh, before he pushed himself back enough to wipe roughly at his eyes. He really didn't want Becca here, but Steve wasn't backing down and he just didn't want to fight any more. He was tired and drained and scared as shit.
"She's gonna ask me stuff I can't answer, or maybe just deck me in the face."
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