Bucky Barnes (
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fossilised2017-04-26 04:19 pm
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For Steve
[This is a bad idea.
Bucky knows it as soon as he stops outside the little community centre where these classes run and he sees the other students milling about, chatting to each other in their own little cliques. The thing has been running for a while, it's an art group for anyone with any sort of mental health issue - depression, anxiety, psychosis. He's here for PTSD, practically bullied into it by his therapist at the VA, under the instructions that he needs to get out and start socialising more.
There are only six other people, four women and two men, and it already feels like too large a crowd. He makes sure his prosthetic is properly covered by a glove and long sleeve, stuffed into his pocket so nobody can tell it hangs strangely, and slouches in at the back. From the conversations he can overhear, blonde woman and redhead woman have anxiety issues, brunette #1 and the two men all have depression, and brunette #2 has psychosis. They're all so open with each other, chatting about medications and coping techniques and the work they've been doing in class already.
One of them approaches him and asks his name, and what he's there for, but he just glowers at her until she retreats again. He doesn't want anyone to know why he's here, and he's only here so Wilson will stop goddamn riding him about it.
He slumps into the seat nearest the back and waits for the teacher to arrive, already sure this is going to be a waste of time...]
Bucky knows it as soon as he stops outside the little community centre where these classes run and he sees the other students milling about, chatting to each other in their own little cliques. The thing has been running for a while, it's an art group for anyone with any sort of mental health issue - depression, anxiety, psychosis. He's here for PTSD, practically bullied into it by his therapist at the VA, under the instructions that he needs to get out and start socialising more.
There are only six other people, four women and two men, and it already feels like too large a crowd. He makes sure his prosthetic is properly covered by a glove and long sleeve, stuffed into his pocket so nobody can tell it hangs strangely, and slouches in at the back. From the conversations he can overhear, blonde woman and redhead woman have anxiety issues, brunette #1 and the two men all have depression, and brunette #2 has psychosis. They're all so open with each other, chatting about medications and coping techniques and the work they've been doing in class already.
One of them approaches him and asks his name, and what he's there for, but he just glowers at her until she retreats again. He doesn't want anyone to know why he's here, and he's only here so Wilson will stop goddamn riding him about it.
He slumps into the seat nearest the back and waits for the teacher to arrive, already sure this is going to be a waste of time...]
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[He gives Bucky a wry grin next time he glances up, meeting Bucky's eyes. Prepare for a ramble, Bucky Barnes.]
I actually don't remember when I started drawing. It was just something I always did. May as well have been born with a pencil in my hand - pretty sure that's what ma told people anyway. I was alone a lot and it was something I could do alone, and ma encouraged it. She said dad did too. I don't think either of them actually wanted me to be military in spite of 'family tradition' on both sides.
After ma died I thankfully had medical coverage from being the kid of two military personnel - probably the only reason I'm still alive today. It was touch and go for a little there, though. I had to do my junior and senior year of high school online, basically, I was in the hospital too much and then there was the surgery and recovery from that... so even if I did have the talent to get into an art school I didn't have the time for a scholarship or the money for it. Except one of those "art institutes", and those places are scams anyway.
Making it in art is less about what you more and know about who you know, so. I work the jobs I have to so I can get by, and I do my art in whatever time I have leftover. I don't really mind, I don't have to be famous. Just doing it is what matters.
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Do you know who those 'who you know' people are? Because if you need your art sneaking onto their desk, I might know a few special forces guys who are really good at infiltration and extraction.
[He's joking. Mostly.]
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And now he's got Bucky in his life.]
What about you? What made you enlist, if that's an okay subject? You can always answer "I don't wanna talk about that" too, you know.
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[It's not the most pleasant subject in the world, but neither was Steve's extended hospital stay, so he doesn't mind.]
I decided I wanted to be in the military shortly after Ma died, for my sisters. Our Dad is kind of a deadbeat, not abusive, just-- lazy, selfish. Anyway, I have three sisters and they all were gonna want college education, and I couldn't help with that if I was getting into debt myself. But if I joined the army then I had a place to stay, food to eat, my bills were paid. I could use all my pay for their college costs. Obviously Becca went through college while I was in the service, but both Sarah and Helen have a fund set aside for them when they get old enough.
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[He's relieved he didn't stumble onto a subject that had Bucky cringing back and away from him, at least. Steve smiles again next time he looks up from the paper, hand moving the pencil across it as he sketches out Bucky's features and fills them in, the dynamic of light and shadow.
It's nice having an excuse to stare at him.]
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[He does love them all though, his family has always been really important to him. Becca has been his best friend since he was little.]
You don't have any, huh? No cousins or anything?
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I had something of a foster dad after mom died since I was underage, one of the doctors she worked with who knew me, but he's also passed. I have a lot of friends now, so I can't complain. Provided you aren't worried about me being a bad luck charm.
[Like with the hospitalization, Steve thinks of it as an 'it is what it is'. Loss is never easy, but he's become very acquainted with the acceptance of it.]
Did you have something else you wanted to be when you were a kid? Like, firefighter, astronaut? Zookeeper?
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Not that he shows this, it's not his place and Steve has obviously made his peace with it, so he just shrugs and focuses on the next question.]
Oh sure, I wanted to be a boxer. I took classes since I was about four, I was middle-weight champion in the tri-state area in high school.
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He's got a lot of acquaintances, he's a friendly guy, but he finds it hard to connect on a deep level. Mostly he blames himself and his lack of trying hard enough.
He does smile again at the idea of Bucky as a boxer.]
Yeah? I can see that - you being a boxer. Not surprised you were good at it.
[And, you know, the imagining him in the outfit is pretty nice, too. The strong lines of his shoulders are clear even under the layers of clothes he wears, and seeing as Steve is making a point to study them to commit them to paper it's hard to not imagining what they might look like.]
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You should be glad I didn't get into it, they'd have messed up my pretty face.
[He grins, a lopsided sort of grin, and resists the urge to move and flex his muscles teasingly.]
So, uh-- sorry about the other day when you met Becca, she's not usually so grumpy.
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Aaaaand then right, Becca. Steve had been unsure of how to broach the subject, but this looks like a perfect opportunity.]
Oh, no, it's fine. Uh, I do have a bit of a confession though and ... you can't be mad, okay, please. Um. I had already met her earlier that day when she came by my work.
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Why would she come by your work?
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[Hopeful smile?]
We got bagels. She also asked me not to tell you but I didn't want our relationship to start off on me hiding anything from you. That doesn't seem like a good precedent to start with even if it's something small? I thought her visit was really sweet, actually - as someone who doesn't have any siblings anyway.
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And what did she tell you?
[Because he's very closely guarded with his past and his secrets, and it'll taint this easy thing he has with Steve if he knows.]
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He can get, he supposes, if someone violated your privacy. He was angry and hurt at Natasha after all for that, even if it was for the best. He also hasn't exactly gone on many (any) dates to give Natasha a chance to do that for him.]
That you're a good brother, that you looked out for her, that she'll find a way to hurt me if I hurt you and that would be a tragedy to mess up my 'pretty face', that you don't have any allergies but you hate seafood and you used to like to dance. Are these state secrets I shouldn't know?
[He can understand being upset, but he can also understand Becca being worried, even without knowing Bucky's romantic history. Caring about someone means it doesn't matter if you've got no reason to worry.]
... You've never done that for any of their boyfriends? Girlfriends?
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Once, but never again.
[He raises an eyebrow, prepared to out Becca for her hypocrisy.]
I started to question her prom date and she yelled at me for half an hour about the autonomy of choice, respecting her right to make her own decisions, and trusting her to be a good judge of character for herself. Never did it again.
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Okay, okay. I get now why she was so desperate about me lying for her. That does seem a bit hypocritical.
[He still wants to ask more, what happened, what is Bucky so afraid of him finding out but he alternately doesn't want to fuck up their first date already and he doesn't want to ask it when Bucky's still on the edge.
Steve thinks all this walking on eggshells and not knowing where the things to avoid are is probably worse than whatever Bucky is so worried about Steve discovering.]
I think it's your turn?
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Sorry, not your fault that she came to see you, we're good. It just pisses me off, ever since I got back she can't stop babying me. It's like she thinks I'm made of glass or something.
[It drives him nuts, because all it does is remind him of everything that's gone wrong. He wants her to treat him like normal, like he's still just Bucky.]
Okay, okay-- uh... Let's go with the magic number?
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Because Steve is also a chronic worrier. He gives a little sigh, looking down to adjust the shading around the collar of Bucky's shirt.]
The magic number?
[He glances back up when he asks that.]
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You haven't ever had the magic number talk before?
[A tiny smile tugs at his lips.]
To put it crudely, it's the amount of guys and girls you've been in a relationship with, or been intimate with.
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Uh.
[Steve is too distracted to even complain about the pose breaking]
... well, theres... I mean how many dates do you have to go on for it to count?
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[How is Steve so adorably naive?]
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... two... uh, you?
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Seven, but only three of them were relationships, the rest were just a one night stand.
[He used to be a lot more promiscuous before he shipped out, he'd have eaten Steve alive if they'd met then.]
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It isn't that Steve doesn't get flirted with, but the formative years being spent where being flirted with was a cruel prank has him a little on the defensive about it.]
Is it okay to ask why they didn't work out?
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"to be kind of wonder" oh dear... fail brain
Dude I did not even notice.
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sorry for the wait, I've been ridiculously busy this week
Life happens, no worries!
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