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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"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.
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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.
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"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."
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“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.”
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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."
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“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.”
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"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?"
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“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.
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"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?"
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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."
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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."
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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.
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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."
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"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.
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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.
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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.
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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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Though he was trying not to be angry here, as he did know that Natalia was trying to lead through example in her own life, he didn’t care to be told what to do and he absolutely didn’t care to be bullied into anything. His friend, unfortunately, had a lot of bully in her, forcing into shape her life the way she wanted it. She didn’t mean to be awful by it. She didn’t have anything but the very best of intentions, but Steve didn’t want to be shoehorned here either.
“He’s not like your other boyfriends. I’m not waiting a year or two. I don’t need your permission and I’m not asking for your permission. I don’t tell you what to do and I don’t appreciate it coming my way either. I’m noting your caution here, and I respect that, Nat, but I love him.”
And that was probably too soon too, but Steve lived every day like it might be his last. He was too stubborn to let life kick him down for long, he was even acting almost as if he didn’t even have a gunshot wound to his shoulder! But in reality, a bad cold could take him down. The next asthma attack could be his last.
Just walking down the street in this weather could be fatal.
He wasn’t going to live safely. He was going to live fully.
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"Very well, these are your mistakes to make. But I will be saying I told you so when this is proven to be too soon."
She span on her heel and stalked out of Steve's bedroom to go back to the couch, where Bucky was pretending he hadn't heard any of them, jaw clenched tight and staring intently down at his knees.
Well, fuck. He knew he wasn't good enough for Steve, but it majorly sucked that Steve's closest friends thought that too.
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It didn't take a genius or a spy to read Bucky right now and Steve felt his stomach sink. He didn't want to choose between people he cared about but Nat wasn't giving him a choice. Loyalty was profoundly important to Steve but so was following his heart.
Steve paused for just a moment before he strode over to his boyfriend and half collapsed on his lap, arm around Bucky's neck.
"You gotta promise me something," Steve said, mumbled and low enough for only Bucky to hear. "You've got to trust the things I tell you and not the things you hear other people say. I want you here. It was my idea. I love you. This is right, Buck."
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Bucky's voice was low and warm with affection, even if he still looked unhappy. His arm wound around Steve in return, feeling how right that weight was against him, like they had been created just to hold one another like this.
"I trust you, I know this is right, I just don't want to come between you and your friends. I kinda wanted them to like me, y'know, because they're so important to you."
He sighed and looked up to where Nat was stood a short distance away. "Listen, Nat, I get it. You're not happy about this, you want to protect Steve. I can get behind that, he's amazing enough to want to protect. So if I hurt him, I'll personally deliver myself to you for an ass kicking, deal?"
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"Nat," Steve warned, because that was extreme and the look on her face? Well that told him that she was serious. It was worrying sometimes how brutal she could be and it made him wonder if the things she sometimes let slip about her life in Russia were true or if they were actually more exaggeration as he tried to maintain was the truth.
"It is my only real. He will either take it or he will leave it." And then she cracked her knuckles, which actually had Steve blanching because well-- Jesus!
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"You've got it, deal. If I hurt him, you and Thor can beat on my ass as much as you want to. But you've got it all wrong, I'm no freeloader and if Steve never wanted me to live with him then I'd still love him. I'm gonna get a job and contribute, wait and see."
Nat considered for a moment, before spitting on her hand and holding it out seriously to shake. When Bucky did the same and they had sealed the deal, she flopped next to them as if everything was right with the world now.
"Is there not supposed to be things on the television now? Every year, there is a celebration and a countdown to the New Year beginning. There should be alcohol too, what kind of girl party is this with no cookie dough and no alcohol? You should be ashamed of yourself, Steven."
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Steve tilted his head back, trying not to think of the spit all over the hands of the people next to him, and frowned. “Probably won’t do anything in New York,” he said, “but maybe they’re going to broadcast one of the other cities—“ Boston and Philadelphia both had New Years broadcasts and they flipped between one annoying music act after another until Steve was forced to vacate Bucky’s lap to get out some wine for a toast.
He didn’t have any champagne—he didn’t have that sort of money or the tastebuds for it – and was just about to pop open a nice pinot when there was a knock at the door. Well, it was more like a kick. “I request entry!” that would be Thor. “My hands are too full to open the door on my own!”
At least no one could ever misunderstand Thor. He was always a very literal person.
Steve stepped out of the kitchen to the front door to yank it open, the firefire standing in the doorway with a grin on his face and a bottle of bubbly. “Am I too late?”
Nat jumped off of the couch and opened the bottle immediately. “Three minutes, perfect timing!”
Thor grinned. “I have as well your cookie dough.” It was a good thing he’d been out of the dead zone of Manhattan when she texted!
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Bucky took a glass of the wine rather than the champagne, but he did dig into the raw cookie dough as well when Nat left it unattended for a moment, giving Steve a slightly guilty and slightly challenging sort of smirk.
When the countdown began for the New Year, Bucky casually rose to his feet and stretched, heading for the bathroom. "Just gonna take a leak," he muttered. He knew fireworks were going to be an issue, so he planned to spend the few minutes right after midnight in the bathroom with his hands over his ears and the water running to try and avoid being triggered and spoiling the evening for everyone else. "Save me a New Year kiss, Steve, okay?"
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get your butt on plurk and tell me how things went yesterday <3
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Heading out now but will tag you when I can <3
Mmmkay
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