Bucky Barnes (
advanced) wrote in
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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I'm not so sure, I might have to check again later.
[Sue him, he feels like a teenager in puppy love again, about ready to grin stupidly all day. Yasha, having noticed her human is as relaxed as he's about to get, has flopped down in a corner to go to sleep for a while.]
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[Oh god is he even saying the things he's saying? Was that actual sort of suggestive flirting? From Steve Rogers? Everyone except Thor would probably have a heart attack.
Thor would give him a thump on the back and say he knew he had it in him.]
Um, did you, uh. Have another question? Wait, can I ask mine first? You liking the pancakes?
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Seriously? That's what you're gonna waste a question on? You could ask my deepest and darkest secret and you wanna know if I like your pancakes?
[He fixes Steve with a smouldering intense look, voice suggestive.]
Steve, yours are the best pancakes I've ever tasted.
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It's not a waste if I value the answer. I wanted to make sure you wouldn't try to spare my feelings if they were bad. ... and also to hear you say how much you liked them.
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I still say it was a waste, you could ask something good like I'm going to. Hm... like... most embarrassing story from school? Unless it was the naked campus thing, in which case, first kiss story.
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Okay so... they're both ... kind of the same story. But I cannot emphasize enough how this cannot get back to Natasha, or Clint, or anyone. Only me and the other person involved know about it and I made him swear to take it to his grave.
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I swear, I won't tell anyone.
[Trust him, he's had a lot of practise keeping his mouth shut in the face of torture, not even Natasha will get it out of him.]
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[Steve cannot believe he's telling another person about this okay. It shows. He takes a deep breath then exhales heavily.]
Okay, so... this was back in freshmen year of college - late in the year. Same height I am now but almost no muscle - the 'almost' though makes it probably the first time in my life a stiff breeze wouldn't knock me over, though. I got press-ganged into going to a frat party with our buddy Thor - yes his real name - because by that point we knew that if Thor was drinking and didn't have someone around, Thor would probably end up being arrested. Not violent, just very... enthusiastic about everything. And probably even bigger than I am now at the time.
And of course he'd found out that I had never even really held someone's hand in a romantic fashion before that and so he decided that it was his solemn duty to see that "fixed".
[Steve pauses there for emphasis, giving Bucky a look that says that yes it's obvious where this story is going, probably.]
Neither of us are twenty-one, but college party, that doesn't really matter. Especially not for Thor who played like every sport and knew every athlete on campus already and I might have been a nobody but I was a nobody who was with him, so that was where I got beer for the first time too. It was probably the most awkward party I'd ever been to - not the least of which because of Thor trying to set me up with literally anyone with a heartbeat. I didn't manage to get any phone numbers but after like two beers I did manage to get in a fistfight with two football players and a lacrosse player.
... Needless to say I kind of got my ass handed to me and only avoided breaking something because Thor was there.
So we left the party, both pretty wasted and at least slightly bloodied. Thor lived off-campus with his brother who was out that night and he lived closer, so he said I could sleep in his brother's room that night so I didn't have to find my way back to the dorms. That part was actually nice, the walk back. It was dark by then, pretty quiet, we stopped to make idiots of ourselves at a park on the way and Thor split his lip trying to do the monkey bars. When I was helping him clean the blood off his face we kind of... uh .... ended up ... making out.
... And then doing a lot more than making out.
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So he didn't laugh, though he did smile softly.]
Was he okay with you the next day?
[He's a little worried this is where it's going, that his friend would claim drunkenness and have made it a bad experience for Steve.]
Or-- did you really like him? Did it not work out?
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[Steve siiiighed.]
He didn't get why I was so adamant that he not tell anyone about it but he was willing to respect that. We... fooled around here and there a little after that, but I wasn't at a place in my life then where I was ready to be as free and open as he was, so that was that. Felt really awkward meeting his fiance last year though.
So yeah that's also the how I lost my virginity story.
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Wow, I bet. At least he's been cool about it, right?
[He scrubs his hand through his hair a little awkwardly.]
Better'n my first time kissing a guy, I was the jerk. I was the jock in school, boxer, always knew I wanted to go into the army, so I thought... I don't know, being gay wasn't manly enough or something? Anyway, I was fourteen and at this house party, and we'd all got kinda drunk too, and I ended up kissing this guy in the bathroom. I still don't remember which one of us initiated it, but I freaked out and called him a fag. Not my proudest moment.
[Maybe he shouldn't tell stories that paint him in such a negative light, but he wants Steve to know the good and the bad.]
I caught up to him about a year later and apologised, he didn't even remember it, too drunk.
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Hey, no harm no foul then, right? Still sweet that you wanted to make it right.
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Most people call me a jackass when they hear that story, guess you don't play by the rules, huh?
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[Steve laughs a little bit, and it's kind of nice to break the tension again.]
But you were also fourteen. Fourteen year old Bucky didn't have the same information the Bucky of today does to know better. No one was truly hurt and you still tried to make it right - that's all that matters. No one's going to look good if they have to answer to things they did in their early teenage years.
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[He grins, before finally picking his fork up to dig into more pancakes and bacon.]
So, your question, I think.
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Any actual misdemeanors? Were you a troublemaker?
[Steve seems more entertained by the question, if anything.]
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[He had been that rare kid in school who fit in with most people. A jock, but one with good grades, his had been the high school that not many people got to experience.]
I did get into some trouble in boot camp. I had this CO called Samson and, man, she was a ball-buster. A good CO, but strict, and one night after I got yelled at about six times I went and mixed her boot polish with sugar paste. Next day, she was trying to lead drills with bees swarming her legs, it was kinda funny until she figured out it was me and put me on double punishment detail for a month.
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No idea what that is but I'm guessing it's as unpleasant as it sounds.
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Okay, so now you've got me all fat and bloated, where do you want me so you can do your artist thing? Or was that just a ruse? Get me here and tell me it's for art, y'know, tasteful nude modelling...
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[Since Bucky is full though, Steve stands and goes about putting away and covering any leftovers if there are any or cleaning the little table.]
Although, uh. Only real place to sit is the bed and you're going to want to be comfortable, so...
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Okay, you're the boss, just put me wherever you want me.
[He'll let himself be placed and posed, though he won't even take off his jacket. Weirdly, he'd be more comfortable flashing his junk at Steve than he would letting him see the prosthetic.]
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He wasn't joking about being a skinny kid.
He's got his pencils and paper all set out on his desk already, the window open to let a good amount of natural light in.]
Uh, any way you feel comfortable really, you're going to need to hold the pose for a bit. Just - face the desk if you can, that way the lighting accents your features best. I have music, if you like. It's probably going to be pretty boring, so...
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Do you mind if I take my boots off?
[Assuming Steve says that's okay, he toes off his boots and sits cross-legged with his hands in his lap.]
Does it have to be music, we can't talk?
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He hopes someday they'll get to a place where Bucky is comfortable enough with Steve that he'll let Steve hang around for that. He clearly does keep in shape, Steve can tell that even through the layers.]
We can talk, just don't move too much.
[Steve smiles a bit as he glances up at Bucky to say that before he takes a seat at the desk and gets to work, glancing frequently between Bucky and the paper.]
I think it's your turn to ask the next question, if you still want to.
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Damn right I want to, you're a fascinating man, Mr. Rogers, I want to know everything.
[He really means that too, goddamn but he's already deep.]
So... why don't you tell me how you got into art? And why you're not off somewhere being a famous artist instead of working for Parks and Rec?
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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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