fossilised | It's AU time

"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."

Steve hadnt kissed a whole lot of people. More people had kissed him than he'd ever returned so this was pretty amazing. To want and be wanted was not a thing that Steve was really all that well aware of. He had almost no experience in it either.

Steve opened his eyes as Bucky spoke, pressed against him the way he'd been very much like while he was ill. He had to snort, his thumb trailing over Bucky's neck stubble.

"There's probably nothing in that fridge," Steve laughed. "I haven't shopped in a week."

It was so strange to have Steve touch him and know that he wasn't repulsed by the scars that were hidden so close by. It was the only reason that he didn't pull back from that gentle thumb over his stubble, though it roamed a little close to his neckline for his liking, smile still at his lips.

"Are you kidding? That's what online shopping is for, you idiot. What kind of person doesn't make sure their fridge is stocked for a freeloading couch surfer? Shame on you."

He did step back then, but not too far, just to a comfortable distance.

"You've gotta have food and build yourself up if you're starting work and school again."

"Jeez, Mom, okay!" It was easier to online grocery shop but certainly not cheaper. Still, Bucky made a valid point. It was less expensive than constantly ordering out too. Steve shifted to pull his phone out of his back pocket and, as if it was normal, flopped against Bucky's chest with his feet stretched out along the couch so that they could put together an AmazonFresh order.

Yes, Steve's mouth was glowing red and his cheeks were pink. Yes, Bucky had made his heart flutter in the only way that didn't scare doctors. And yes. They were going to hang out on the sofa on a Friday night after kissing and a traumatic occurrence in a coffee shop and order milk and eggs to be delivered tomorrow between ten and eleven in the morning.

Technology was wonderful.

"Are you a Captain Crunch sort of guy or do you like Cinnamon Toast Crunch? answer wisely," Steve warned, though he didn't have the ability to sound very ominous.

If there hadn't been online shopping then Bucky would be dead already, he only managed to get enough groceries for himself because they could be delivered right to his apartment door at a time that suited him. He was getting better now, a little at least, he had stepped outside three whole times and only melted down once. That had to be progress.

Steve flopped against him was way more progress than he was expecting, though, and he stiffened for a moment before winding his arms around the slighter man from behind. It was nice, and it was just goddamn typical that Steve was so open and affectionate once he decided to be. Because of course he was.

"Captain Crunch, how is that even a question? Anything with cinnamon on it is immediately made by the devil."

Was it weird that they were doing a joint grocery shop like they lived together?

"Hey, Steve... are you sure you're ready to go back to work?"

Steve wouldn't think it was weird. He was just pleased that someone else had the same aversion to cinnamon he did and happened to either like the Captain or peanut butter a whole lot. Steve fell into both categories. He was very, very comfortable with Bucky like this, as if they'd spent a lot more time doing this and it had just become normal to constantly touch.

Steve toed the blanket up so he could drape it over his lower half and then tilted his head back to look at Bucky, upside down.

"Hey,I have clients counting on me. I've been out for a long time. Some of them have been ready for the next portion of their tattoo for a week. I promise not to overdo it," he promised, thumbing over Bucky's knuckles. "You don't have to constantly worry about me. I've got this far and one little trip to Manhattan and back isn't going to do me in. That would be really anticlimactic."

He promised to have a car take him back and forth so he wasn't walking so much in the cold.

"I'll be extra careful too. Christmas Eve is our second biggest night of the year. The tips are great and the drunken masses usually just want special lettering or something mundane. Trust me. I'll be fine."

It was still weird for Bucky to think of Steve in a tattoo parlour, he just didn't seem the type to be helping drunk idiots pick out fancy lettering for inking their girlfriend's names onto their skin. But then, he didn't really grasp just what a high end place it was and the type of inheritance brat that made up nearly all their clientele. Getting to do an amazing design on someone who really wanted it was often few and far between.

"Alright, alright. I won't nag any more, happy?"

He would, however, be waiting up to make sure that car got Steve home okay and that he had his medicine and something to eat before he went to bed. He wanted to make sure the poor guy wasn't sick again on Christmas Day, and-- oh shit, Christmas Day.

"--I forgot it was Christmas Eve. We haven't even decorated at all, and you haven't told me what you're doing on Christmas Day yet? Nat and Thor? I bet Thor cooks a whole goose or something ridiculous like that."

"I don't exactly have a lot of family, Buck," Steve chuckled. "Nat and I usually do something, but she's been so wrapped up in Thor... I don't know. I'll text her later. She might just be going over his place? His family is in Norway, so maybe not. I don't know. She gets like this when she starts seeing someone knew. I won't say obsessive...but...yeah. He's still in the four month grace period."

Steve wasn't really that down about it.

"I'm guessing you don't have any plans? You're not running up to Boston on me, are you?" The wind outside battered against the windows loud enough for Steve to pick up his head and stare out at the lights shining through. "I have some stuff in the closet if you really feel like stringing lights up for a day or two. Christmas was never about presents or decorations for me. Mom did her best, but she usually worked holidays."

Bucky's expression shuttered when Steve mentioned him going to Boston, though it probably wouldn't be noticed with how he was sat behind Steve to hold him that way. He never should have mentioned where his family lived, but he hadn't expected Steve and himself to get this close.

"They don't know where I am, I haven't spoken to them in months, I won't be going back there."

Because he was a bastard. God only knows what they thought, all he had told them was that he had been discharged and was going across country to find another job. They probably thought he had been dishonourably discharged or something, they were probably mad as all hell, especially Rebecca.

"If, uh-- if you don't have plans with Nat, maybe I can make you dinner?"

Okay, there was a ton to unpack there. A huge amount. Actually, Steve was at a little loss for words. He knew Bucky probably was ashamed of himself. He knew he was not the same as he'd been before he was shipped off. But to cut out his family? That part had not come up when they were talking to Drunk Bucky.

Steve pulled himself up only so that he could stretch out and lay his head on Bucky's knee.

"So this is the part where I'm supposed to tell you that you're being stupid and you should at least call them for Christmas. But. You're a grown man. And I don't know anything about your family except that your sister's name is Rebecca and she was pissed off at you for enlisting. Don't give me that sour look. You told me, you can't hold that against me."

Steve lifted a hand to flick Bucky on the nose.

"But anyway, yeah. You can cook dinner for me. Are we have some sort of balls again? I just want to be prepared."

Bucky had dated before, but he had never been with someone who was so openly tactile from the beginning. It didn't bother him to have Steve's head on his knee, waiting only a moment or two before he threaded his fingers into soft gold and began to stroke a gentle rhythm.

"It'll probably be tater tots and meatballs, my cooking doesn't exactly extend to a full Christmas dinner. I'll make melon balls too, everything balls for you."

Wait, that sounded even more wrong than he intended, and he snorted in mild embarrassment. It was good that Steve hadn't pushed him to call his family, but maybe he deserved to know just what kind of selfish ass he had got himself involved with. He wouldn't blame Steve if this made him throw Bucky out.

"They're good people, my Ma and sister. They always looked out for me, supported me, loved me... but neither of them wanted me to enlist. My Ma wanted me to go to college first, get some life experience before I made such a big choice, and Rebecca didn't want to risk losing me. They both got real mad when I joined up anyway, but I thought I knew what was best." He snorted again, this time bitterly. "Now look at me. They were right, and they don't deserve to have to deal with my mistakes. It's better for them if they just remember how I was. I told them-- I said I'd been discharged, that I had a job across country, and that was it. They don't know I was hurt, captured, or even why I was discharged."

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off to work, catch you later

I'll be here when you get back!

<33

Re: <33

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