fossilised | It's AU time

Bucky still wasn't good with social situations a lot of the time, and he had been more than a bit awkward once Steve disappeared, but had loosened up enough to laugh at a couple of jokes. He seemed a decent enough guy, at least, and Mickey said so when Steve finally poked his head out.

"Not bad, Rogers, but why hasn't he come in to get inked before now? I don't see any, unless all those clothes are hiding some nice art."

Bucky shook his head behind her just slightly. He knew that in the end the tattooist who inked him would have to know and see the scars, but he'd rather not mention why he had come in for a consultation so soon. He had managed to keep any of them from finding out he was a damaged vet, he'd rather keep it that way.

"I don't have any tattoos either," Steve said blandly. "And I didn't want you guys ogling him," he tried to pout but that actually came off a little fake. Steve wasn't good at this kind of teasing, and it made Mickey roll her eyes as she set her heavy booted feet up on an unoccupied seat. The buzzing sound of a gun in the background and some soft hisses and sighs blended into the low pop rock playing from someone's iPod.

"You don't have any tattoos because a needle would go right through your arm. I'm going to take your ink virginity one day, Steve. You just need to settle on your art," his boss grinned, leaning back. She was sleeveless, her arms wound up with roses. It was subtle. She was a safe sort of punk, the kind that made these fancy trust fund babies feel edgy and comfortable at the same time.

Steve laughed and marked down his figures in the ledger. "I can't get a tattoo. I always change my mind. And I'd like Bucky do me. He's got the steadiest hand I know."

Mickey arched an eyebrow. "That right?"

Bucky looked a bit taken aback, smiling in a slightly self deprecating sort of way as he waited for Steve to finish up what he needed to do before they could get out of there. Mickey seemed nice, but he didn't like the way she was looking at him now.

"Steady hand, sure, but I don't know shit about tattooing and my art looks the same now as it did in second grade."

He remembered what Steve said about maybe taking night classes in inking, about how he could use the gun with one hand, but it felt like that might be moving too fast. So he wasn't going to jump into anything just yet.

"Steve has to say nice stuff about me, it's like... the boyfriend code or something."

"My boyfriend is an asshole," Olivia piped up. "Can you talk to him about this Boyfriend Code? Like with your fist? I'll pay you in pizza and beer."

"That's the fee for helping you move, Liv, Jesus," Nate said, pulling off his gloves as Steve got his coat. The deflection had worked because now they were all talking about Liv's boyfriend and Mickey got up to count Steve out for the special favor he did her by coming in.

"Take tomorrow off by I need you Friday. All day. Bring your boyfriend. He managed to upsell two people just by flipping through the stock books," Mickey said and handed Steve a war of cash. "And you, take care of our Stevie. He's precious to us."

Bucky looked pretty pleased to be praised, though he might not be able to make it back on Friday depending on a number of factors, so he didn't give a response to that. He just grinned and led Steve out of the shop, winding his arm around his waist and looking like a smug asshole because of the other hand apparently carelessly in his pocket.

"So-- a whole day off, huh?"

He had to go into the VA in the afternoon, but that still left a few hours of fun that he could enjoy with Steve. No clothes type fun.

"I wonder what you could do with it? I suppose you need to spend most of it designing those incredibly details chat speak tattoos, huh?"

There was something magical about walking arm in arm with your boyfriend on a cold night in the city. Sure. Most of the buildings were dark. And yeah, there were patrols keeping pedestrians funneled towards safe zones or the various train and subway stations that were currently the only way out of Manhattan due to restricted car usage, but this wasn't something that Steve had done before. He knew that he had to watch for anything that might trigger an episode in Bucky, however. There were armed men and women all along their walk and stationed on the subway platforms too. It was dangerous, anything could spark, but Bucky seemed wholey focused on him.

"Believe it or not, the reason those sessions last an hour isn't because of design work. It's because those women change their minds on a curly bit or font size or color or message a hundred times only to go back to the initial concept in the end. I gotta say, I'm tired of drawing uniforms, though."

The train came and they got a seat so Steve slipped his hand into Bucky's.

"I'm thinking about a tribal smoke tattoo for you. Do you remember the tattoo I gave the bounty hunter down his arms? Not that I'm trying to turn you into a comic character but-- You'd look so cool. And it would have a sort of rising from the ashes theme to it. But mostly you'd look really cool."

And it would hide those scars perfectly.

Bucky privately thought that Steve was wasted on most of the things he did in that tattoo shop, but he was obviously friends with the people who worked there and it earned him money to help keep him in art school for other projects, so maybe it wasn't such a bad thing for a while. Still, he knew that one day he'd be proud to tell people that his tattoo was a Rogers original, no kidding.

"That sounds really cool."

He hadn't been kidding when he said that he trusted whatever Steve wanted to put on him, much more than he'd ever trust his own judgement. Something beautiful and ethereal like smoke and patterns sounded good, sounded respectful. He didn't want to cover it up with nonsense.

"But don't bullshit me, you're absolutely trying to turn me into that bounty hunter. I'll wake up one morning to find wild west clothes in the closet for me."

He grinned, a little tense in his body as they were walking, but all his attention fixed firmly on Steve to keep himself from being too scared.

"What do you mean, one day? I measured you in your sleep yesterday and I ordered it on Etsy. I like drawing fringe anyway so I put fringe on the chaps and had the facets shaped into clock gears. Maybe if you start walking around New York like that, it will predispose people to buy the comic. If I ever write it."

He had some shorts, some concepts, but he never actually sat down to work on pages. He had too much going on otherwise.

And maybe he was a little scared to actually try his hand at that. Designing vapid tattoos for vapid young adults paid well. And he loved school...

Steve gripped Bucky's hand a little tighter as the train jostled. It was right about here that the lights went off the day after Christmas and he had to fight blindly in the dark for hours to get to a platform.

He snorted, but his hand tightened around Steve's when he felt his own being gripped hard. He didn't know exactly where on the line that Steve had found himself when all hell broke loose, but he knew it must have been horrible and he wouldn't be the only one with trauma leftover from that night.

"Steve Rogers, I love you," he murmured, just wanting to keep his boyfriend's mind off whatever horrible thing was going through it right now. "But if assless chaps show up for me, then I'm kicking you out of our apartment and making you sleep across the hall with Nat."

Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her in a while, not since Thor arrived and swept her off. He hoped they were both okay. That neither of them had lost anyone a few nights back.

"There's a lot of fun to be had with...uh... Those. But you'd wear leather pants under them if you wanted to be properly in costume," Steve grinned before he leaned his head on Bucky's shoulder and rode the rest of the way counting his breaths. They did arrive safely at the station and then picked up their dinner before heading home, still hand in hand.

If Bucky had been worried about Steve's best friend, he wouldn't have to worry for much longer. She was out on the step smoking, which was strange because almost no one smoked these days and Nat was a dancer so this was worse for her than her occasional Steve-provided Big Mac. She looked unnerved, fingers twitching under her full lower lip before she looked at them as they approached with big, blue eyes.

"Nat--"

She'd lost half her troupe, it turned out. Thor was fine but her friends were decimated. And when she hadn't been able to find Steve thst day, she'd gotten scared. Bucky was going to have to wait to throw Steve down and have some pantsless fun. Natalia evidently was going to insist on a sleep over.

Even if Bucky wanted to toss Steve down and kiss every inch of that pale skin, he wasn't a jerk and so he didn't even hesitate before stepping back and making himself scarce with a murmured excuse of needing to box his things up in his own apartment. Natalia barely watched him go, just leaping in and hugging him tightly.

"I had thought America was safe, Steven."

She tugged him into the building and up to her apartment, where there were clothes and dishes everywhere because she was not a particularly neat individual. She didn't let him go as she tugged him down onto the sofa in really strong arms and hugged him tightly.

"Do not die, you are my best friend. I did not expect to have so scrawny a best friend, but now I would not change you."

“It’s a good thing that I’m scrawny,” Steve teased, “otherwise, all of your potential boyfriends would have probably threatened to beat me up.” Steve didn’t mind being clung to, but Natalia wasn’t being very considerate of his arm right now. He had to bite his tongue, and hard, to keep from saying anything. “But I’m not going anywhere. Buck saved me. And he came to walk me home to make sure I got in all right. It’s okay, Nat. Promise you.”

She ended up taking half a valium – Steve didn’t approve of that but he understood that her nerves were shot – and removed her octopus arms to replace them with her feet over his lap. “I have had dreams.”

Steve arched an eyebrow. “I think we’re all having nightmares, Nat.”

“Not nightmares. Dreams. Thor talks to me but he is hard to make out and his accent is wrong.”

Steve lightly patted her leg. “It’s just stress, Nat.”

"No, it is not stress. I know my dreams, Steven, and these are not the usual dreams. If I had the stress then I would see him dead, but I see him with beard and long hair speaking odd words to me."

She nudged his ribs with one foot, glad to have him here and real and mostly okay. She would have to make sure to thank Bucky when she saw him for protecting one of the most important people to him.

"He has gone back to the hospital. His brother was injured, I do not know how badly. But you will stay here with me tonight, yes?"

She didn't want to be alone. "I will make you the cookie dough and we can watch one of your chick flicks."

“How about we cook the cookie dough into cookies first so no one gets sick from potentially contaminated eggs?” Oh Steve, always thinking. Or always skirting danger by going by the package directions and not leaving his health or the health of those he loved up to chance? “And you can come over to my place. The couch is bigger and Bucky should get to experience one of my Chick Flicks.”

Steve just liked sappy romance stories, all right? He liked war films too but he figured that romance was a little better considering all he’d been through…and all Bucky had been through.

“I’m real sorry to hear about Loren, though,” Steve said, helping Natalia pack up some things from her gross refrigerator. He’d come back this weekend to help her clean it, if work let him. He didn’t want to look at that yogurt. It looked like it had sprouted previously unknown life inside of it. “Next time you see Thor…” Preferable the real one and not the dream one with the beard… “You tell him I wish his family the best. Now get changed. You smell like smoke.”

Nat rolled her eyes, how could Steve not eat raw cookie dough? That was the most American thing she could think of, and she loved it, but he wouldn't do it. It was endearing and ridiculous, and she wouldn't change him. But she would change this new need to be with Bucky all the time; he was a nice guy, and she wanted to see him in a relationship, but not be attached at the hip.

"You can leave him for one night, yes?"

She settled her legs a bit more firmly over his lap to keep him there, though she wouldn't actually argue that much if he insisted.

"I am wanting a girl's sleep over, just you and me, we can even paint your nails a nice colour, hm?"

“I’m all he has,” Steve said, not about to be bullied even if Nat was just being possessive at the moment and meant nothing by it. “And I want you to paint his nails too. He can be one of the girls.”

Nat gave him such a look for that, and then laughed. “All right. Price of admission to girls night is manicures.”

Steve might have checked with Bucky first on that but it was the best compromise he was going to get. Therefore, when Bucky was balancing two boxes in one arm down the stairs to put into the corner in the studio, Natalia greeted him with a shoe box of nail polish and demanded that he pick his color. Over her shoulder, Steve hummed, avoided eye contact, and shoved a tray of dough into the oven for the 8-10 minutes it would take to cook up.

He was not taking sides. Nat would win anyway.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, but Steve seemed to be very concentrated on avoiding looking at him, so this must be something he had got Bucky into with Natalia. But he wasn't that insecure in his masculinity, and so he immediately put the boxes down and came over to poke his finger through the shoe box in proper contemplation.

"What do you think? This blue is the same as my eyes, but you can't beat a classic emo punk black?"

"Not black."

"Alright, alright-- hey, this one. It's the same colour as Steve's eyes," he said and held up a bright periwinkle blue with a lopsided grin. "Do we get to pick for Steve too, since he doesn't seem interested?"

"Yes," Natalia grinned suddenly, looking dangerous. "Yes, I think that is so."

"Oh good. Uh... how about this orange and this pink? We could do them in stripes and then seal them on with clear?"

"Orange and pink?" Steve cringed as he checked the oven light on the cookies and decided to keep in his kitchen lest he be saddled with neon colors meant to mock a sunrise on his fingers. It wasn't as if nail polish couldn't be removed, but pink and orange stripes just seemed so cruel. He wrinkled his nose.

It was good that Natalia was being less possessive, but he didn't like the idea of these two ganging up on him. At all.

"I'm the keeper of the cookies, so don't piss me off," Steve offered, guarded, which made the redhead look back at him.

"I wished the have the dough only so that is no problem," she said. "Now you come here and sit. We will finish with you first while you cook out the point of the dough."

"You mean salmonella?"

"Steven, do not make me send him in after you."

"Sorry, Steve, but the pink and orange is your destiny, you can't fight it."

Bucky plucked out the most lurid shade of each with dexterous fingers and waggled them at Steve. "You said this was my place too, our place, so you can't hold anything hostage in our oven."

"You are moving in together?" Natalia didn't necessarily look happy about that, her expression impassive but her eyes threatening to talk sternly to Steve as soon as they got a moment. It was so soon, they hadn't known each other that long, surely moving in together was a terrible move.

"Yeah," replied Bucky, still advancing on Steve with the nail polish. "He offered and I accepted, turns out that I'm crazy about him and kind of addicted to his cock."

"You can't say stuff like that unless you're drunk and can't help yourself!" Steve said, the brightest shade of pink of them all. He held up his oven mitted hands as if they were boxing gloves and shook them at Bucky. "No one needs to hear how much you like-- Any of that!"

Flustered, he tried to push off the way he was feeling about this situation and how much he really wished Nat hadn't needed some Girls Night in right now. That made him feel guilty a moment later, of course. Natalia needed him right now. Sex would Bucky could wait until later. He'd live having his pants on in the apartment for a little while, right?

Nat was still half glaring needles in Steve's direction, arms crossed under her breasts in that sassy way she had when she wasn't pleased. She'd never have pegged him for the sort of guy that would just fall head over heels for the first guy that fucked him..but there he was, doing the most stupid thing ever.

"Really? Because I think that it's perfectly appropriate to talk about how much I love my boyfriend's cock and how much he satisfies me in the bedroom. Is that not right?"

Bucky was full on smug smirking now, eyes clear and present and twinkling with fun. Clearly coming to the tattoo parlour and spending time with Steve had done wonders for his mood, though he couldn't help but feel a small ember of dread for the fireworks bound to happen at midnight.

"We can do this the easy way, Steve, just take off the gloves. Nice and slow, nobody needs to get tickled here, Steve."

"Ah, we do not want to tickle him! He has great farting potential," Natalia said because evidently the only thing in the world that truly mattered was making Steve pay with blushing. The poor guy wasn't even sure what to say about it, he just stood with his jaw slack and blinked a few dozen times.

At least he did take off the gloves. "Can we be finished talking about my body and it's functions?" he asked, pouting just a little in a way that made Nat hop over to him and enfold him in an embrace. Steve didn't hold grudges and so he hugged her back, still pouting a little. "If that's a yes, fine. I submit to your terrible color choices."

The movie of choice for this evening was the classic Heath Ledger Ten Things I Hate About You because it was romantic and Steve loved the grand gestures of it all.

It felt like more than just a retelling of the Taming of the Shrew.. It was more like something from another time, when guys could be utterly stupid and sweet.

At least there were cookies to go with the sap and polish fumes as chasers.

Bucky had never seen that movie before, but by the time Heath Ledger was running along the bleachers singing I love you baby, he had utterly fallen in love with it. It was so cheesy but so charming for it, how could he fail to like it? Besides that, he had Steve next to him and he could watch the smile at his lips. He was determined this was going to be a turning point, things would be good from here on out.

After the movie, Nat cornered Steve in the bedroom as he was changing into more comfortable sweats in preparation for a long girly night and to see in the New Year with his boyfriend and best friend. She wasn't at all embarrassed to catch him in his underpants, just closing the door behind her to sit on the bed.

"I like James, he is nice, but he is too soon to be moving in. Steven, you have known him so little time, do not be so quick to give your heart away."

She didn't want to see him hurt. He might be tough in a lot of ways, but she didn't think that he'd deal with heartbreak at all well. And she was worried about him being taken advantage of, he was too eager to see the good in people.

Steve pursed his lips as he watched his well intentioned friend get her dander up. It wasn't her fault. She was trying to do right by him but Steve didn't see things the way she did. She knew all about taking advantage of people. It was how she had lived in Russia. You play weak and scared and you can get people to do things for you. She saw Bucky less as a threat and more of a guy without any income who had somehow gotten himself the best guy in the world that paid for him and now was letting him live in his place. Rent free.

She didn't dare say that to Strve. He had on his rose colored glasses so tightly that they might well be welded to his head.

"Yeah. I know it's really quick but wow, Nat. You just know sometimes. And I know. It's like we grew up together. Like he knows everything about me. I'm going to help him. I just want him to be here."

That probably sounded desperate but Steve knew it wasn't. He didn't expect anyone to understand but he didn't really need them to either.

"Listen to what your words are, Steven. You want to 'help him', that does not sound like an equal relationship, that sounds like you are allowing his issues to cloud your judgement until there is nothing but a desire to help. He may take advantage of you. Does he have money to assist with rent? Does he work? Does he expect you to support him? Steven, this is too fast."

She knew that he was stubborn and she would likely not get through to him, but it just felt wrong. She loved him dearly, with his prickly pride and generous heart, and she would not have someone take advantage for a free ride and meal ticket.

"There is no shame in continuing to date in separate apartment. Maybe in a year or two when you do know all there is to know, maybe then it is not so foolish an idea."

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