fossilised | It's AU time

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Loki had spent much of the time since he had woken up talking to himself. It wasn't something he did often, but he couldn't stop speaking in both Norwegian and English as if to reassure himself that his tongue was still there and functioning. Foolish, for of course it was. But he also found himself doing more exercise than he needed to, and he had shunned his usual chair behind the counter to stand, again as if he were proving that his legs worked.

It was almost a relief when he got his first and only two customers, one he recognised and one he did not. He was even quite chatty with Steven for once, asking him about his studies and his work, when usually he just served up the coffee. He glanced around when Anthony arrived and found that the anger he had been harbouring for the past two weeks had gone, almost as if they had gone through something worse and Anthony had proven his love by sticking by him.

So he simply surged into Anthony's arms and kissed him fiercely, before drawing back to slap him across the face for his anger was never wholly gone.

"Do not do that again. You are mine, and I do not permit things that belong to me to become damaged. Do you hear me, Anthony? I love you, you cannot leave me for something as foolish as a winch failing."

Though he’d been expecting more cold shoulder and neither show of emotion, he readily accepted both. Each hurt him physically (his arm was mostly healed but he wasn’t good as new) and his brain probably didn’t need to sustain any more injury. But that was all right. He could take the smack and the possessiveness in stride, his unbound arm immediately around Loren even as he winced and tasted blood.

“I got it, I got it,” he promised, jaw out of whack. “No more use of equipment while I’m alone.” And wow. Had Loren just....? "I love you too, baby. Always have, I'm pretty sure."

Steve couldn’t help but stare at this little exchange. Eyes wide, he paused with the scone halfway to his mouth. He had no idea that Thor’s brother was even seeing anyone. Thor was very boisterous about talking about his brother and he’d been with Loki at the last holiday but wow. An older man in his life? That was sort of brilliant. They played off of each other perfectly. He finally broke out of his romantic little spell and glanced over at Buck, resuming his nibbling. This was a good way to start off Christmas Eve.

This didn't mean that Loren had magically forgiven Anthony completely, or that he would become the doting boyfriend that he probably deserved. He was too selfish, too absorbed with his own issues, but he did love his older man. Had done for many months now, since their passionate string of one-night stands had become something more meaningful for them both.

Bucky smiled over at Steve, voice low so as not to disturb the seemingly cute couple. There was nothing to laugh at this time, so the tides of history were already changing to become something else.

"Wow, you never told me that your coffee shop was the premier gay spot in town. Did you bring all your other men here too?"

Loren glanced over at his two customers, one hand still on Anthony's hip possessively.

"I am sorry, but you will have to leave, I can transfer your coffee to take-out containers, but the shop is closing immediately."

He felt the need to get Anthony's clothes off and prove to himself in new and interesting ways that his tongue still worked.

To go cups gotten and a little extra bag of scones thrown in shoved under Steve’s arm, the moment he and Bucky made it outside, the door shut behind them and the lights went out. There was a little crash from inside and Steve’s cheeks turned pink. Not just from the cold. “Well, we should probably get to shopping,” he said, clearing his throat.

Most of New York City also had the same idea. It was just starting to flurry but the forecast didn’t mention any accumulation and so everyone was out doing some last minute shopping, even if most of the stores seemed to be barely functioning or open. The Mall, however, was doing just fine with older teens and twenty somethings forced in to cover shifts that they had forgotten that they had.

Workers not at their jobs were jamming the streets, so the through ways for pedestrians were quite…difficult…to maneuver. Steve was doing his best to clear the way, but he was a shrimp, he was tiny, and was getting elbowed as much as he was elbowing back. Maybe this wasn’t the best place to take a Vet suffering from PTSD. Steve just didn’t know when to be protective and when it was starting to become insulting.

By the time they got to the entrance of the mall, Bucky was tense as hell. He felt as though he had a sniper scope pointed at the back of his neck, every sound was too loud in his ears, and every person had a concealed weapon on them. He could feel his breathing picking up, he could feel his heart racing and his palms sweating, but he fought it all down.

He had to be able to do this.

His relationship with Steve was too new, too fragile, for him to show off just how damaged he really was. Hell, he couldn't even admit it to himself, refusing all counselling and medication in the view that he could just get on with it if he stopped being weak. He only noticed Steve trying to shove a path through for him when the poor guy nearly got knocked over by a soccer mom carrying six bags and walking at top speed.

"Steve, stop it," he murmured, voice husky and only half present with how his eyes were darting around the upper levels as if looking for a sniper. "Just walk with me normally, I'm not-- I don't need nannying, I'm fine."

“I’m not-- I’m just staking our claim to be able to walk,” Steve said, as if he hadn’t just been found out. Ah, God, poor Bucky. He could almost see his hackles raised. That couldn’t be healthy. At all. Steve tossed his coffee and took Bucky away from him so he could hold his hand properly. They were in the corner between a potted plant and the Auntie Ann’s pretzel line, one little piece of quiet oasis in the jumble of the holiday.

He waited until Bucky actually looked at him before he smiled, comforting and sincere.

“I’m making a game plan, Buck. Like… a strategic operation. Nat likes those yoga pants from Victoria’s Secret with the words written across the butt. That store is on the third floor. There’s a back escalator that we can take to our left but we have to cut across the catwalk to the next one. And once we’re there, we have to make our way to the very back at the store and just pick up anything you see in an extra small. If it looks like it will fit me, it will fit her. Doesn’t matter the color, but she likes red if they’ve got any left. You with me on this?”

Perhaps if this was later down the line, or even if he got his head out of his butt long enough to admit that he actually did have some problems, then he would appreciate this. Steve was being sweet and genuinely understanding in a way that a lot of people would envy, thinking of him while respecting that he might still be able to do it, but all it did right now was bring his hackles up further.

"I told you, I don't need to be coddled," he growled, a bit rougher this time, though it was obvious the anger was a shield for how afraid he was. "I can handle a bit of shopping, and I might even work here shortly, I saw a lot of help wanted notices and I'm not exactly qualified for much else. I can handle it."

His fingers twitched inside of Steve's grip, but he didn't pull his hand away yet, even though it made him feel pretty vulnerable to have no hand free in case a fight happened.

"Let's just go to Victoria's Secret and get your yoga pants, okay? Is there anything else you need?"

Any other person would have gotten upset or worried or incensed by Bucky’s sudden behavior, but Steve just nodded. He wanted to be playful, like this whole ordeal really did need a game plan, but Bucky was too in the zone. So he tried a different tactic. “Actually… And this is going to sound bad… But um… Can you get me a pretzel? Or since I’m totally see through, can you wait here because I have to do something while you’re not with me…?”

Steve managed to make sheepishness look hot. He lifted his bright, big eyes up at Bucky, almost pleading.

“I’ll be no more than fifteen minutes. And I’ll meet you right back here.” He wasn’t sure what to get his…friend…that kissed him…but he should probably get him something. Even if fifteen minutes really wasn’t going to be enough at this point, but he didn’t want to drag Bucky into a crowd and he didn’t want to leave him for too long either. This was a fine line to walk. “but yeah, I really do want a pretzel. Extra cinnamon. And one of those little frosting buckets?”

He’d rush off to the store after that… Can get Bucky some fuzzy pink socks. Because that would be hilarious.

Steve was such a good guy, Bucky knew that underneath the anger and the fear. He asked in just the right way, making it seem like he needed to get Bucky a gift just like any couple might do, no other reason for leaving him behind here where it was a bit quieter, and that soothed Bucky's ire because it meant he was able to accept without losing any face over it.

God only knew how he would manage to split off and shop on his own for Steve, though.

Fifteen minutes wasn't a lot of time, and even if Steve ran to Victoria's Secret and bought the first pair of yoga pants in the right size (bright cherry red with the word 'Dangerous' written across the butt), he would still get back to the sort of murmured buzz of conversation that started after shock had worn off. There was no sign of Bucky, but a woman was scolding a teenager so hard that he looked like he might cry, and not bothering to keep her voice down.

"--would he say? Your father hasn't slaved in the army all these years to bring you up with that kind of disrespect to veterans, Billy, do you hear me?"

He shouldn't have left. Steve had a pair of yoga pants and some steel gray fuzzy socks with red stars across the toes, but his not exactly boyfriend was missing. He turned twice to see if he could spot any aftermath but it was no use.

Steve trotted over to the mother, not to ask what happened, but to see if she could tell him which way Bucky had gone. "Even just a general direction is helpful," Steve said, and she gestured apologetically towards the fountain. Or maybe the glass elevators.

Steve felt his stomach sink and he pulled out his phone to ask Bucky where he might have gotten to via text so the man didn't have to listen to the way his voice trembled... Or have his own voice tremble noticeably when he replied back.

There was a flash of a subway tunnel and blood, but Steve ignored it when it dissolved almost immediately away from him. Maybe he'd recall it later but his fear for Bucky outshone everything else.

Thankfully nobody seemed to be screaming or making a commotion, so maybe Bucky hadn't attacked anyone yet. That could happen with PTSD, if someone got too far into a flashback and only saw enemies, though Bucky had managed to get this far without really hurting anyone. Himself, his wall, and once some asshole outside the hospital, but never an innocent civilian.

Steve wouldn't get very far before the worker from Auntie Ann's, a skinny college age girl with pink tipped dark hair and a nose ring, darted out from behind the counter even though she wasn't supposed to.

"Mister?" She called out. "You're with the army guy, right? I saw what happened, and my manager had security take him in back to calm down. If you wait at the counter a minute, I'll radio up for them to come down and get you."

She tried to hustle him back to the counter. "It was that kid's fault. He had a nerf gun and he was just firing it at random people. I think he thought it was a real gun and, well, it was kind of sweet. He jumped right in front of me to take the nerf hit, then he ended up curled on the floor like he'd really been shot and not with a foam thing. I'm pretty sure that kid's Mom is gonna ground him for life."

Oh god.

Steve thanked the girl with a nodding head, thankful for all of her effort to help him and because she had been terribly sweet herself making Buck out to be a hero. It didn't stop Steve from worrying.

Security came for him a few minutes later and he craned his head up to look between the two tall woman in severe buns before they took him to the quiet, cool backstaging area of the mall. The gray painted cement led to a gray metal door where Bucky was relaxing.

One guard knocked lightly before she pushed the door completely open. "Sir? Your friend is here."

Steve dropped the bags and went immediately to Bucky. He felt so bad. So bad to have let this happen.

She made sure to give him a pretzel and a free coffee while he waited, she was touched that this random stranger had jumped in front of a nerf bullet for her, it was the sort of thing she'd be telling her classmates about when the Christmas vacation was over. The security were nice enough, if stern, and were content to let him go into the room alone when the door had been opened.

Bucky still felt odd. His head was pounding as a result of the adrenaline that had flooded his system, and he was shaking head to foot hard enough that his teeth were even chattering. But he no longer thought he was in Afghanistan, and the quiet of the security room had stopped him from making more of a spectacle of himself.

As soon as the door opened, Bucky wound his arm around Steve tightly and pulled him in close, trembling. "I think someone shot at me, Steve," he muttered, voice tight. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

Jesus, people heard about mall shootings and things like that on the news, but never expected it to happen to them. He was just lucky that apparently he hadn't been injured, but what if other people had been? What if Steve had been?

"Someone did," Steve said kindly, letting Bucky hold him as close as he wanted because he wanted to be held just as close too. "But it was a toy gun, Buck. The cashier at Auntie Ann's says you stepped in the way of it though. You protected her ever if you thought it was real. That takes amazing guts. You're so... I don't know. Brave. So brave."

This whole trip to the mall bad been brave. Steve couldn't know that this was more severe than what would have happened the last time around at Loren's store, that time had a way of repairing itself to meddling in the initial time line. But it didn't matter when none of the players remembered their moves when they traveled this part of the board before.

"Do you want to stay for awhile? Or go home? I'll get a cab I think. It's pretty cold out there."

And Bucky shouldn't be subjected any more to the crowds.

Bucky exhaled heavily feeling like a goddamn idiot, because of course it had been a toy gun. He felt like a moron now, and there was Steve being a sweetheart and making out like he was a hero for overreacting and getting in the way of a big fat nothing. No bullet, no danger.

Yet somehow he had the idea that Steve would do the same. You got a sense of that as a soldier, and Bucky knew that Steve might be skinny, but he was the sort of guy to jump on a grenade to save everyone else. He was a good guy, maybe one of the best, and he just made this shopping trip stressful for him. Good job.

"Uh-- I'll stay here, it's..."

Quiet. Peaceful. He couldn't quite face going out of this room again yet, and the security guards had been so kind in letting him sit there for this long already. Probably pitying the nut-job.

"But you should go, it's cold and you just got over pneumonia. I can head home on my own later. Maybe I'll even pick you up dinner on the way?"

Steve worried his lower lip and then dragged a chair over. "I want to spend Christmas Eve with you. It's stupid, I know. You think I'm just this kid from downstairs trying to put my nose into everything but-- I care about you. I really care about you, Buck, and there's no where else I want to be that isn't right here. With you. Maybe we can find a place to sell us some balls on the way home when you're feeling up to it."

His grin was pristine and kind. Bucky lucked out with his downstairs neighbor indeed. It was almost as if they were destined to be together.

A few hours later, when the mall was closing, Steve guided Bucky out of the building hand in hand. The streets were emptying out, a light snow on the ground, and bars and dinners full to the brim with people just trying to get through the holidays in one piece. Snow caught in Steve's eyelashes as they passed a hole in the wall joint that looked like it had some seating and Steve got them both a table to share some Mac and cheese balls and a beer together. Their knees touched under the table.

It was just about ten when Steve's phone lit up with a text from Natasha reminding him about Christmas Day dinner. She and he had talked about this the night before when he went gushing about his kiss with Bucky.

Steve couldn't for the life of him recall if he actually invited the other man or not. It seemed like all of that happened a month ago.

"Still up for our double date with Natalia and Thor?"

Bucky didn't know what he had done in his life to be lucky enough to land someone like Steve Rogers to care about him, but he must have been a goddamn Nobel Prize winner or something. It could have been awkward, sitting in that little security room waiting for him to be brave enough to just leave the mall, but it wasn't. They ended up talking about all sorts of random things, Steve's presence really helping him calm down and get grounded in where he was.

Which was why he didn't argue a meal out, and Steve picked somewhere that didn't bother him too much. It was nice-- good, almost normal. Except for the part where he had absolutely failed at getting Steve anything for Christmas and, even if he had someone he could call for help, all the stores were closed now. Too late. He'd have to go through his own belongings and try and find something Steve might like.

"Wait, me too? Really?"

He beamed over at Steve, suddenly so touched that he wanted to hold him close. But he didn't want to overstep the mark, Steve had made it clear he wasn't about to just leap into bed with anyone, and Bucky didn't want to pressure him.

"Listen, I know we only kissed like-- twice. But this was so a date, balls and all, so maybe-- would it be okay if I took you out some more, maybe as a boyfriend?"

Steve hadn't meant to suggest that it would be a real date, oh no, had he just pushed Bucky into a guilt induced need to ask him out? The blond blinked down at his hands before he forced himself to knock it off. Of course that wasn't it. Of course not. Bucky liked him. He could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. Steve was just not used to this.

So he put on his best, most gracious smile, and tilted his head slightly towards Bucky without exactly looking up at him.

"So are we counting this as our first date or should we wait? I just want to get the anniversary down." He set his coquettishness aside and turned those baby blues upwards. "I'm voting for tonight. But only if you kiss me when we get to the apartment. Like a gentleman."

Anniversary. God, could Steve get any more adorable? Didn't he realise that most guys would be scared off by a first date even hinting that things might last long enough and be committed enough to have to remember an anniversary? Bucky wasn't scared off, it was endearing, it told him that Steve didn't really do casual dating.

So he grinned and stuck his elbow out like he was some old time man from the forties or some shit.

"Sure, I'd be honoured to escort my best guy back to his door and kiss him goodnight, it would be my pleasure."

If Bucjy had made a face about the word, then Steve would have known it wasn't meant to be. He wasn't going to date someone he didn't think would last. His heart wasn't built that way at all. Luckily, Bucky didn't go running the other way and instead, sweetly, offered his arm. That made Steve laugh, but he took it. "So don't go thinking that I'm just going to be your dame, sir, but thank you just the same for the escort."

Politeness was the key living in the past, right? Steve wasn't that much of a history buff. He liked World War II, but mostly preferred learning about the battles and the politics.

"But just for clarity, if you say that I'm your best guy, how many others do you have waiting in the wings?" He managed this with a straight face, as if he was asking a genuine question. Like how often Bucky needed new shoes. "Should I get their emails so we can coordinate date night? I just want to be fair to everyone."

"I'm not sure, I lost count, but it has to be over twenty. But don't worry, Steve, you're my best guy. That means you're king of the harem and get to wear a crown. And it means all of our dates take precedence over any others."

He felt like kind of an idiot walking down the street arm in arm like something from an old black and white movie, but it also felt right. Like he and Steve were meant to be together, in goofy ways and serious ways and all the other ways in between. Bucky also kind of liked the term 'best guy', it seemed to suit Steve more than boyfriend. Something more, but not so much more as to be crazy.

"Is this the part where I'm meant to tip my hat at you and lay my coat on the ground so you don't have to walk on all the snow? Because I like you, but this is my only coat and the streets are gross."

King of the harem was not a title that Steve wanted to wear, even in jest, and so he skipped over any further comments to get right at the much more amusing thought of Bucky brandishing off his coat to protect his shoes from the snow. “I think we can safely pass on the coat. Not because I care so much about it being your only coat, but because I really don’t want to have to hold onto your arm after if it’s muddy and covered in hepatitis.”

They rounded the last corner of old brownstones with their four floor fire escapes cascading down the side, passed the alley between the Chinese take out place and the Deli and their own apartment and headed up the stairs to the front door and then to Steve’s second floor apartment.

“Well this is me,” he said, thumbing the door behind him. He couldn’t help but bite on his lower lip again. Waiting. Expectant. Crazily falling in love with someone that really needed to sort themselves out before they could commit. Steve didn’t seem to care.

Bucky snorted very quietly when Steve needed to say this was him, like Bucky didn't live right upstairs and hadn't slept on his couch to help him through pneumonia. It was cute, though, and that lip bite set his blood aflame. He could just eat Steve with a spoon, but he would take this at his pace.

So he just bent down to capture Steve's lips with his own, pouring passion and want and affection into the kiss. Steve deserved to feel wanted and desired, he knew that the poor guy was self conscious over his size and stature, and he shouldn't be because he was goddamn gorgeous. But more than that, there was an underlying current of tenderness too, of thanks for how he had been with Bucky at the mall that day.

When he eventually pulled back, slightly short of breath, he gave Steve the cockiest smile that he had while speaking super politely.

"Good evening, Mr. Rogers, it was real swell."

It had been real swell, Steve decided, the flush to his cheeks a bit of a double entandre. Something was obviously swelling. He had dropped his bag in the process to feel the broad expanse of shoulders beneath his fingers and lightly thumbed along the edge of Bucky’s hairline and neck before he pulled back.

“Feel like coming in for a night cap, Mister. Barnes?” Steve wished he knew what rank Bucky was. That thought was exciting to him. He knew was was terrible. It claimed some of Bucky’s sanity and his own father’s life but the military was an important institution and the men and women that served in it happened to hold the majority of Steve’s respect.

Steve had no idea what a night cap actually was, if it was supposed to be a drink or not, but he had a very good idea of what he would like it to be.

If Bucky just wanted some coffee with a shot of Baileys, though, that was fine too.

Bucky knew exactly what a nightcap was, this was hardly his first rodeo. He might have shipped out when he was just out of school, but he used to be a real charmer and he had enjoyed more than a few dates both in high school and while he was on leave. His eyes darkened a little in interest, unable to hide how attractive he found Steve, but all he did was nod.

He would come in, and if Steve actually meant a drink then that's what he'd have and not pressure him for more. It was weird that he wasn't more nervous. He didn't think he had been shirtless in front of Steve other than the time he had pulled his prosthetic off in a fit of pique, and he was usually self conscious about his scarring. Weirdly he wasn't, like it didn't occur to him that Steve might not still find him attractive.

Bucky stepped past Steve into the apartment and pulled off his wet coat a bit awkwardly, tossing it over the back of a chair before surging forwards and tugging Steve in for another heated kiss. God, he could do this for the rest of his life and never get bored.

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

no subject

no subject

no subject