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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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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"I'm-- I'm putting a pin in that because-- that was out of line, and I'm sorry," Steve said immediately. He oh no way wanted to make Bucky uncomfortable and he had a feeling that he was doing that anyway. Rebecca was enough for now. "Anyway, if she asks you questions you don't want to answer, then you don't answer. And if she tries to punch you-- Buck, she's smaller than I am. Suck it up."
He was teasing there. If Becca did make a swing for Bucky, she'd find Steve there acting like a shield. It was pretty bad how protective of the other man he was.
"I'll talk to her. Lay down some ground rules. It's going to work, Buck. You don't have to be without your family."
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He exhaled a deep breath and reached out to take hold of Steve's hand, tugging him back into the apartment where Becca waited, looking red eyed but a bit calmer than before.
"You're gonna stay tonight," he said without preamble. "Make sure you thank Steve for that, he really seems to think we should keep seeing each other and I never could say no to my boyfriends."
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"Guess that makes me the one that breaks the mold," he said in his good natured way, squeezing Bucky's hand. "But you're more than welcome to stay the night. I don't want you to drive all the way back tonight. I'll get you some blankets and a pillow-- I don't think we have any left overs from dinner, but Bucky's a great cook--"
"Yeah if you like rat poison," the girl said, but she looked so much more relaxed now. Her smile was just as perfectly appealing as her brother's. They shared the same blue eyes too.
"Hm. I've got fatter tots and chicken nuggets-- Yes I realize that makes me look like I'm five but they're the best comfort food available and I think we can all use some comfort food right about now."
"Fuck yeah we can," Becca said, stretching out. "And alcohol...?"
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"Yeah, and alcohol."
If he had to spend an evening with his sister, then he needed something to get him through it. Even if drunk Bucky was a bad idea at the best of times, let alone in such a volatile situation.
"I've got some upstairs, I'll, uh, I'll go and get it."
He retreated again for the door, aware of two sets of eyes on him, and made his escape. Rebecca sighed when the door was closed, looking up at Steve as he bustled around getting tater tots and chicken nuggets.
"Sorry I yelled at you, I didn't know he even had a boyfriend. Steve, right? Is he-- is he okay?"
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"He's coping," Steve said honestly. "And after what he's been through, that's pretty good. The whole dating thing only just started though so it's all right. My best friend only found out about it too." He was easy to talk to, which was why Bucky latched on so quickly. Becca was going to be the same, and she hopped right on over to the kitchen to watch him arrange the frozen food on a sheet pan. "I just-- could I ask a favor? Can this just be a visit? Maybe not ask too much about how he is or what he went through...?"
His smile was bare, but earnest. He wanted to keep this light and pleasant and that meant that Rebecca had to play along here.
She looked a little skeptical. Steve didn't really blame her, but eventually she did agree and they waited together for Bucky to come back.
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Bucky reappeared after a few more minutes with a different shirt on (a clean one), and a duffel bag in his hand. He put it down on the counter and extracted one bottle of vodka, a six pack of beer, and a small bottle of rum. Also in the bag were some sweat pants and t-shirts, which he took into Steve's room with a slightly challenging look as if to say 'you asked me to move in, now some of my clothes are here'.
"Okay, so--" He cleared his throat, before going for a lighter hearted attempt. "You better not have been telling Steve horrible stories about me."
"Who me?" Becca asked, also trying her best because of what she'd agreed to. "You mean like the time you cried because Mom sold your barbie in a yard sale?"
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He made an effort to try not to laugh but that was proving to be impossible. He settled himself down on the edge of the sofa, hunkering in for the story, before the timer on the oven went off.
"You're so lucky-- Bec, I need that story later. We're going to exchange emails," Steve promised.
Bec and Buck. Evidently Steve just liked to shorten names like that.
"Now-- you're over twenty-one, right?" He didn't know the age difference between Bucky and his sister.
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