fossilised | It's AU time

Steve's voice slowly filtered into his fractured reality, making the desert sprout books out of nowhere and the smell of coffee mingle with the smell of blood and gunpowder. His brow furrowed and he tightened his hold on the man beneath him, instinct pushing him to protect just in case any further attack seemed to be forthcoming.

"...Steve?"

No. No, that couldn't be right. Who was Steve? There was no Steve out here, so why did he keep seeing intensely blue eyes and a smile that could outshine the sun? It just made him shake all the harder, his prosthetic bent at an odd angle on the floor where he had tried to shield Steve.

"It's not-- you have to stay down, I'll protect you."

"We're not over in Afganistan," Steve promised. "We're in a coffee shop." He would keep repeating these words, softly and without frustration, until Bucky saw him, and once he realized what had happened, he would smile and he would push a strand of hair over Bucky's ear and he would wait until he was helped up.

That could be ten minutes from now, an hour from now, Steve wouldn't give up.

"You know me. And you know where we are and nothing here will hurt you." He repeated the promises for coffee and for Maury on TV and his eyes never once strayed to Tony, who was looking uncomfortable and pulling Loren away, or to Loren and that intense, not quite right look on his face.

It didn't matter to him.

None of it did. Nothing but the shaking man trying to save him from his own mind.

It took another twenty minutes for Bucky to come properly back to reality, aching all over as if he had run a marathon and feeling an equal mix of shame and fear. When he finally got off Steve and offered a hand down to help him up, he couldn't quite bring himself to look over at where Loren stood with his hand entwined with his boyfriend's, though he did address all three of them.

"Sorry. I'm really sorry."

He was such a goddamn idiot. He could really have hurt Steve, maybe he had really hurt him, the poor guy was just recovering and now he had spent who knew how long on his back on a cold floor with a heavy idiot on top of him.

"Fuck."

Fuck.

"No need to be sorry," Steve said gently. "You've spent the last week playing fetch for me." He didn't make a show of doing anything and he moved slowly. On went his coat and his scarf. His smile was warm for Bucky and he looked at him carefully as he asked Loren for another two coffees and some scones. To go. "Don't forget to bundle up, Buck. Only one of us is wearing an eagle sweater."

Tony wasn't sure what to make of the two. Not dating, the little one said that, but man, that was some loyalty. If the brunet had taken care of the blond for a week and the blond just so easily brushed off the last half an hour here... Wow. That was love. That was love visible right before his very eyes. So excuse him, all right, if he found the whole thing just ridiculous. Tony didn't do love. He didn't think he could. Loren was something else all together. Something that they did not bother naming.

Whatever. It didn't matter.

"Coffee's on me, folks," Tony said, shelling out a twenty to slide over to Loren. He dared his boyfriend to argue with him.

Loren felt that he had more than got his revenge for the laughter aimed his way, and that left him on top in this little battle that only he knew had taken place. Which was enough to put him in a good enough mood to wave away the twenty and offer the scones and coffee for free, before ushering the two of them out of his store.

Bucky mumbled a thanks to both of them, but his attention remained almost solely on Steve right up until they got back to the apartment building and Steve's front door had closed behind them. Only then did he sag forward and grab Steve in a bone-crushing hug, muttering thanks into his neck.

What had he ever done to deserve a friend like this? Steve was pretty much a goddamn angel in human form and he wished so hard that he could have met him back when he had been functional. He would already have kissed him, he was sure of it.

"--did I hurt you? Are you cold? Does your chest hurt?"

There would have been no kiss back before the tour of duty that Bucky had last been sent on. That Bucky could have had anyone...up to and including the gaggle of ballerinas or the male dancers of the troupe, all at once, if he had wanted them. Steve had been no one special. Just a tiny, sickly guy with vibrant eyes and an easy smile. Bucky never would have looked twice.

And Steve would have just admitted the handsome soldier from afar. He probably never would have gotten to know Bucky like he had.

The hug was not unwelcome, but it had taken Steve by surprise enough to leave him barely balanced on his toes against Bucky's chest. He half hugged back and half clung.

"You didn't, I'm not and it doesn't," he said in response to the rapid fire questions, glad he'd gotten the coffee down before they were locked in another brown deluge. "But what about you? Are you all right, Bucky?"

Bucky wasn't sure how much to believe that Steve was okay. The man was recovering from goddamn pneumonia and had just spent god knows how long on the floor of some cold coffee shop, he couldn't be doing that good. Besides, he wouldn't put it past Steve to be lying just to make him feel better, he was a selfless asshole that way.

"Shut up, don't even try and worry about me."

He finally pulled back, eyes intent on Steve's face as if to find any clues that he might not be doing as well as he said he was. If Steve relapsed because of him, he'd hate himself for a long time.

"I'm fine, it was nothing. That-- it was a mistake, forget it happened."

Dumb to try and pretend he was still fine, but he didn't want Steve to join the brigade of people who tried to convince him that he had PTSD and that counselling was the best option. He didn't, he was fine, he just needed to stop being so weak and pull himself together.

Bucky wasn’t getting off so easily, not while he was hugging Steve so tightly, not even after he pulled back, leaving Steve unsteady on his feet and missing the warmth of Bucky’s chest and single, all encompassing arm. “I’m not going to forget what happened. I want to help you,” Steve said firmly. “I’m not going to toe the line about you needing to talk to anyone-- They told me to do that when my mom died but I couldn’t. I’m not even going to tell you that you should talk to me-- You can, obviously, you can talk to me about anything, but I want to help you with it just the same.”

And maybe he’d spent a little time looking up how soldiers were taught to deal with their PTSD. It wasn’t like that could ever be cured. Of course, most of the things they mentioned required two hands…knitting for instance. Something to keep active.

“And… I want to help me too, so don’t pin all of this on me being a good Samaritan. I mean, I’m in the Eagle shirt but that doesn’t mean I’m completely altruistic right npw!” Steve’s smile was never crooked and his perfect teeth almost outshone his eyes. That was one health issue he didn’t have at least. “Do you think-- Can you train me? The doctor did say that if I can build up the muscles in my chest, it will help with the asthma. But… Cardio doesn’t really go with asthma so… I really need someone that can monitor me and there’s no way I can afford a personal trainer at a gym around here.”

Bucky had been all ready for the talk, the sympathy, the way that people seemed to look at him as if he had no worth beyond being broken. Even the doctors had done it, careful to suggest activities that were soothing and gentle, oh-so-careful all the time, like he might shatter if they treated him like a person. And here was Steve, after seeing him meltdown, asking for training.

He used to be good at fighting, even before the army, a boxer. Having one arm might hinder him a bit, but he could sure as hell help Steve get the basics down and teach him breathing techniques so that he might be able to jog, all that sort of thing.

"--yeah." He couldn't help but smile, gratitude and fondness in his eyes. "I think I could help you do that. But are you sure that's what you want? I mean, I'm pretty ruthless, I'm used to training up shitty cadets. I'm not a nice guy when I train people."

"Well I'm good for it. I can take it. Nat only sets me up with jerks anyway," Steve pointed out, crossing skinny arms over his skinny chest. "I doubt you can beat them in asshole-ness. But you can try. Actually, I'd seriously love for you to try. Because I'm not buying that you're anything but a nice guy."

Steve kicked off his boots, or rather, he kicked off one and tried to toe out of the other before giving up to plop on the coffee table and unzip the other. It was tossed towards the door and he leaned back on one hand, knees splayed and socked feet crossed at the ankles. There was no attempt to look sexy so much as a little tired.

"I guess it's too bad that Loren has a boyfriend. I had no idea he liked men. I would have tried to pretend to be a at and set you two up. Even if that would make me a fifth wheel since Nat is dating his brother."

"Really not interested, but thanks."

How could Steve so effortlessly do this? Usually when Bucky had a bad day, let alone lost himself so completely like that, it could ruin the rest of the damn week. It should have sent him huddling into his apartment for days, but here he was flopping on the couch next to Steve after an hour. Shaky, yes, but not losing himself.

"I don't think it's a good idea for me to be dating anyone, Steve. I'm a project case, not a boyfriend."

There was a trace of bitterness in his words, but he kept a smile at his lips the same time. He knew the score, being angry about it wouldn't change it. Casual dating was pretty much off the table.

"Maybe," Steve gave in, climbing off of the table to occupy his usual spot on the sofa, legs folded up and blanket pulled from the back of the sofa. He would get the coffees in a minute, he just wanted to warm up. "I'm not exactly a therapist, so I can't really comment on it but it's probably better not to add someone else's baggage when you're dealing with your own stuff," Steve sympathized. He did not put the onus on Bucky, however, just on everyone else. Loren was strange and quiet and intense. And Bucky probably wouldn't be able to juggle that.

Heck, Steve couldn't juggle that either. He wasn't good with dark and mysterious.

He also wasn't good with big and muscley or cute and dumb or vapid and tall-- so just about everyone that Nat set him up with was never a good fit. Sure, it was his dream to have someone. To love someone and be loved back--

"And you're young. You have years to find someone. Or someones if you date the ballet troupe."

Now was the time to be finding someone, when he was young and supposedly in his prime. The longer he waited, the less likely he would end up with someone. He'd be a washed up soldier with PTSD, one arm, a shit-load of unattractive scarring, and be old. He read somewhere the statistics once, when he had been drunk and self-pitying, that if soldiers weren't already in a committed relationship when they went off to war then the chance of them finding someone when they got back was minimal. Hell, even established relationships fell apart 65% of the time if the vet had the sort of issues that he did.

Not good odds.

He slumped back and reached out to nudge Steve on the shoulder instead, giving him a smile and deliberately moving right past himself and into someone else's personal lives.

"What about you? You're young, you're artistic, you're smart, sweet, funny, and sexy as fuck. Why don't you have someone?"

"Me? Do people really have serious relationships when they're my age?" He brushed off the implication. People dated in high school and sometimes you still heard about those people getting married but it was less and less. "I want a best friend. A partner in crime. It's hard to meet people when you're always sick. And its kinda cruel right? I don't want to push my health issues on people and-- I don't know what was in that scone but sexy as--"

He wasnt going to say the word. Steve and vulgarity rarely mixed. He did, however, outright laugh at Bucky.

"You can see my ribs. And my spine. And my knees-- that's not sexy as anything. I look fifteen. There's nothing sexy about me." He unfolded himself to fetch the coffee and the parties in their little white bag, which he dangled in front of Bucky. "You bought me a sweater in a men's size small," he reminded him.

"Oh my God, will you not even say fuck?" Bucky's eyes widened incredulously. Not in a cruel way, he just hadn't thought that even Steve was quite this pure. "That's amazing, and I thought that I had a clean mouth, just because I don't pepper every other word with a curse like the other people I served with."

He reached out to take the pastry rather than the coffee, it was always a choice when there were two things and one hand, but he'd always pick sweet pastries over coffee any day of the week.

"And hey, shut up. Steve, look at me, I'm not bullshitting you. At the risk of making this super awkward, if I weren't so fucked up then I'd have asked you out weeks ago. You're handsome, so quit being down on yourself."

"First of all, there's no good reason to curse. Not even if some studies show that cursing means you're smarter or... Whatever. I just don't like to do it. There are a million other words out there and-- And second of all, don't be like that. Don't do the 'oh I would totally be into you if x, y or z wasn't a thing'-- I hate that."

He set the coffee down on the table and pulled the blankets around himself and his own cup. He didn't want to sour the mood but that was a phrase he heard. A lot. Usually when someone didn't want a second date. Or a third. Steve didn't usually get passed the third date. And yeah. Yeah it was a hard one to swallow.

He offered a sort of consolation smile to explain himself. "Thanks for the compliments but you don't need to do that either. I don't want-- I'm like you. I don't want people to feel sorry for me or give me a reason for-- no. This is friendship bread. Not I would date you if I could bread."

"I'm not doing any consolation thing, and I don't feel sorry for you," growled Bucky, getting a bit annoyed now. Why did Steve have to be so down on himself that he couldn't accept someone might actually find him attractive? Why would it be a big deal? He already knew why Bucky couldn't date and it had nothing to do with Steve.

He reached out and took hold of Steve by the back of the neck on a whim and pressed a sudden, light, but pretty intense kiss to his lips. Before he just sat back and hoped he hadn't ruined the friendship they had.

"I don't fucking lie, Rogers. If I say that I would date you, it means that I would date you. Maybe if you're still single when I'm less fucked up then I will ask you out, but you have to goddamn stop acting like it's impossible anyone could be attracted to you."

For the record, Steve wasn't down on himself. He liked who he was. He believed in himself. He just saw the reality of it. He knew who he was and what he was and he regularly put himself out there to test waters he was even afraid of. He might be annoyingly pure, he might have a clean mouth and never got passed second base on the grand slam homerun of life, but he wasn't an idiot either. He knew his limits. He pushed them when he could but he also thought he knew when people were messing with him.

He'd been so sure.

But that kiss ripped through him, right from his guts. There was nothing light and quick about the aftermath and Steve was still paused and hovering from the position Bucky had pulled him into, gripping the thankfully very secure cup with both hands like it could give him insight onto what happened.

"Uh. So I never said--". Wait. Maybe he had said no one would find him attractive. Well no. He said no one would find him sexy. Different things. He waited for his brain to click back into focus. The look on his face was positively charming. "You're not-- you don't need to be fixed. You just-- it's just-- How dumb is the look on my face right now? Am I speaking English? My tongue feels numb."

That was a dumb fucking move, wasn't it?

Bucky shouldn't have just kissed Steve like that, what if he ruined their entire friendship by being so inappropriate? But God, the kiss had tasted good and it made him want more, Steve felt like he would fit right in his arms no problem, and that was a dangerous path to let his mind go down.

"It's pretty dumb, you look like I just hit you in the face with a pan," he said, managing to sound somewhat normal even though he was now self conscious and nervous as all hell. "Look, you deserve a nice guy who can take you for coffee and not throw you on the floor, but don't doubt that you're a sexy bastard again."

"People should stop assuming what I want or what I deserve. Don't act like you get any say in what I want, Barnes," Steve said in what he hoped was a sassy sort of snap and not taken as bitterness or anger. He didn't currently feel either. Lightly biting the inside of his upper lip, ruining the smooth tissue, Steve put the coffee aside. He really had no idea what to do with it right now except maybe dump it on Bucky's head for making him feel this sort of thing that was either actually reciprocated or maybe just partially--

Ugh. Everything was stupid.

Right now, everything was just... He smoothed a hand over his nose and cheek, as if he had been hit with said frying pan in reality and not just jest and flipped those devistatingly blue eyes of his up at Bucky. "So okay, can I ask you something? What do you think would happen if I asked this guy that half lives on my couch like he's afraid I'll stop breathing in the middle of the night for a date? Like, an indoor picnic sort of date? In your opinion I mean. Hypothetically."

Bucky wasn't sure what he was expecting here. Steve to yell at him, maybe, or just get all awkward and try to politely get him to leave without actually throwing him out. That would probably be more likely, Steve was too much of a nice guy even when he should be sticking up for himself more. Always more willing to stick his neck out for other people than for himself.

"What?"

He stared.

And then stared some more.

For a little while it seemed as if he might have forgotten how to speak English, because there was no way that Steve just insinuated that he actually wanted to ask Bucky out on a date. His eyebrows had practically disappeared into his hairline he looked so surprised.

"Jesus, Steve, you deserve better."

"Yeah? I don't see any other guy making me his point of contact when he's having a rough day. I don't see anyone else lined up to hang out with me for a full week when I'm sick, just in case I need some help. Oh. And that hospital stunt? Who else is planting their backside in a chair all night after insisted on riding in the ambulance with me? So define better. No. Really lay out how anyone can care about me and my welfare more and then we can discuss what better actually means. I should probably update my rating matrix to include commissioning gold statues of me, I guess?"

He knew Bucky had issues. Asking him out wasn't going to be possible. They weren't really ready for going out. But why did that stop them from whatever else this was? Bucky was comfortable enough not to wear the arm with him. He'd seen the scars. He knew some of the trauma and could guess at the rest.

So honestly...

What was the harm in trying something out?

"Oh... Oh do you think that guy I'm talking about is just afraid? I mean yeah, I get it. I'm super intimidating. I'd be scared too if I was him. But then how do I let him know that I'm not going anywhere? Like if it doesn't work out or whatever, I'm still the guy who makes cool comics with him in them and plan on staying friends?"

Bucky continued to stare at Steve as if he were an alien and speaking some sort of nonsense language, all the good things he had done just laid out there as if they were something to be proud of instead of something any decent person should be doing. But it was the look in Steve's eyes, those amazing brilliant blue eyes, that arrested his heart completely.

He looked so sincere. Yet also like he might bite Bucky's shins like a little terrier dog if he refused to acknowledge what was growing between them, stubborn punk that he was. It was just-- god.

"Oi, I'm not scared, don't be such an ass." Bucky reached out and tentatively brushed a few blond hairs off Steve's brow. "I still think you deserve better, those gold statues would be a good touch. But I think if you asked that guy out sometime, he might just say yes."

Because why not? Because Steve knew he wasn't normal, and Bucky knew that Steve got sick, why shouldn't they try and work something out together? Small and slow and tentative.

Steves eyes followed the edge of Bucky's fingers until they touched his forehead. He imagined they they used to touch his trigger gently like that, or whatever sort of sports equipment he had used. You could tell there was raw power behind that touch and yet he was so gentle-- Steve let himself get smitten this time and he leaned into the touch.

"For the record, I wasn't calling you a coward. I was calling him one," Steve teased. "And yeah. Maybe tomorrow I'll see if he's still on my couch and ask if he has plans. Worth a shot right?"

One could only hope. He didn't really want to wait to do any more kissing though, so he took the Iniative on this one. It wasn't light and quick. There was no tease this time.

Bucky half expected Steve to taste of apple pie and freedom, but his lips tasted of a weird mixture of cough syrup and coffee. Not exactly unpleasant, but pretty distinctive. Not that he would have cared if Steve had tasted like a week dead skunk right then, because he was just so happy to be kissing him.

This was dangerous. He had already got dangerously close to falling for him, and he cared for him a lot more as a friend than he really should after only a couple of months, so he should be taking it slow instead of sinking into the kiss. Shame that his body didn't seem to get that memo, as he leaned in and threaded his fingers into blond hair to keep Steve close as he returned that kiss more than enthusiastically until his breath ran out.

Panting a little, he pulled back and smirked. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't have any plans except eating all the food in your fridge."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

off to work, catch you later

I'll be here when you get back!

<33