fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

I come from a land of ice and snow

Asgard sat atop the branches of Yggdrasil since time began, and little had changed in their society in the years since. Each Asgardian was long-lived into the millennia, their lands were fertile, their people brave and strong. They had their vassals, their allies, and their enemies. Yet even those who opposed them respected the might of the Golden Dias, and the royalty who sat upon it. Currently that was Odin Borson, though he grew weary more easily now and had begun to consider passing the throne to his eldest son.

He had been blessed with many children, but only two that he considered worthy of his lineage and status. His firstborn, Thor, strong and honourable and everything an Asgardian warrior should be. His second son, Loki, was not natural born, though none knew that but his wife. He was different, a creature of magic and mayhem, of sharp intelligence. Both were worthy, but together they would take Asgard to a new prosperity, he was certain of it.

Midgard, where the mortals dwelt, was a land raided every few centuries for stock. It was seen as a breeding ground, much like a corral for cattle. Mortals were lesser, short-lived and weak, they were fit only as slaves. The last raid had taken place when Loki had been but a baby, nearly a thousand years ago, but the mortals that had been taken had been bred and cared for so that a healthy slave population still thrived. Slaves were given a weakened mixture of Idunn's crop with their food, to extend their natural lives to at least a few centuries in order to make them worth the effort to train. They had no rights, but they were taught well that this was their natural position.

All slave children were raised in a central pen and taught the same when small, those that then displayed talent at cooking, riding, hunting, housework, artisan skills, or singing were then measured off to be specially trained for higher masters. Every five years those who could afford to buy a slave, or those of high enough status to simply demand them, came to the corral and chose. Those who were chosen were special, were envied, and those who were not ended up working the fields out in the far reaches of Asgard, the most menial of work.

Anthony and Steven had been friends since they were little and being raised in the large pens together. Both had excelled, Anthony at crafting and Steven at warrior's skills, but neither were chosen when they were five, nor ten, nor even fifteen. Now, at twenty, it was their final chance to be chosen before they would be assigned to one of the meanest farmers beyond the borders of the great capital. Steven woke Anthony as the dawn rose, mingled excitement and nerves on his face.

"Anthony! Wake up, I've got news! I heard the overseer talking to one of the passing guards, and Princes Thor and Loki are coming to the corral today."

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“Banner still asleep in the hall?” Tony asked, which probably was pretty rude. He didn’t know if he appreciated being ignored or visited more. He was constantly messing up potential friendships as it was and ruining existing friendships. “Buck put him out there when he came to visit. You just missed him.”

It wasn’t Steve that Tony wanted to see anyway. It was Loki. Evidently Jotnar had a different idea of liking someone than humans did because if Loki was laid up in some stupid half functioning medical ward, he’d be there to chat to her for most of the duration.

He had covered his ugly leg at least, and the fever was starting to subsisde. He looked less awful, that was for sure.

"Yeah?"

Steve smiled, the soft and fond sort of smile reserved only for Bucky or mentions of Bucky. It was so obvious how in love he was, he sometimes didn't know how he had managed to hide it for so many years.

"You guys really hit it off, huh?"

That was good. Maybe Steve wouldn't have chosen Tony as his only friend, but he was glad that Bucky had literally anyone and there could be much worse people for him to hang about with.

"Hit it off? Like we have play dates? No. He just stopped by to listen to me bitch," Tony said. He felt some sort of way about that. He didn't think Bucky would share his secrets but how could he know? He might tell Steve and Steve might do something about it.

There was a reason Tony kept to himself. He rubbed a hand down his face.

"He's going through some separation anxiety. You should probably check in on him." And if you can't find him, check the closet. But he didn't say that out loud.

He was an asshole but tried to keep it down to relatively low levels, chasing it up with a little huff of annoyance for his current situation and an ample fold of his arms over his chest.

Steve knew about the closet, of course he did, but he made sure Bucky didn't know that he knew and he certainly had no idea that anyone else would know. He wished it could be different, but he wouldn't stop whatever it took for Bucky to feel safe, even if that meant never sleeping together, never more than kisses.

His smile stayed in place, but his eyes were slightly sadder. Separation anxiety, right, something else to have to deal with.

"I'm glad that he had you to help him out then, Tony. You're a good friend."

"Yeah, I'm really not," Tony bit back, feeling idiotic. Only Steve Rogers could do that to him. Or Steve Barnes. Or whoever he was now. "Not at all. Thanks for stopping by."

Steve felt weird about the exchange. He didn't press because Tony looked uncomfortable enough, so he made his report about their rescue, mentioned that they would be flying a recon mission with Loki in two weeks to get close enough to the training moon to scan it before returning, and that there would be a meeting about it soon.

He left the stoic engineer, and passed the still sleeping Bruce, to try and locate his husband. He had good news to share. And it was all because of Bucky that he could make this all happen.

Bucky had been genuinely offended by Tony and his flippant outlook on his problems, especially when it was hard for him to open up at all and he had tried to be as understanding as possible when it came to Tony's problems in return. It had left him discomforted and twitchy, so he wouldn't be in their little quarters when Steve got back, he'd be up on the roof.

Steve would probably find him because of the shadow through the window, or the faint whirr of his metal arm, things that people without super soldier senses wouldn't see or think to investigate.

He was taking apart and putting back together again one of his guns with practised ease and speed, just something to occupy himself.

Not a good sign at all. Steve proceeded with caution as he went, carefully heading to the roof in a way that would make his presence known long before he came into view. "Been looking for you," Steve said, settling down beside Bucky before stretching out on his back to look up at foreign clouds. The patterns were just as random as he was used to and yet they seemed so different and strange too. He'd miss this little planet, the third he'd made his home on and the fourth he'd visited before Loki shopped him around to Vanaheim. "It was something, Buck. Straight out of some history lesson about feudal Europe. Sort of amazing. I wish you'd come."

If tony was right and Bucky was having anxiety with him being gone? Well he wanted to make sure that the man knew he'd been missed.

"Think you can put that down...?" The clicking was not distracting and Steve was not afraid of it. He just wanted Buckys attention.

He knew it was Steve even before the man came into view, distinctive footsteps and breathing pattern. He was relieved, even if he didn't show as much, only tilting his head up to give Steve a once over to make sure he wasn't hurt. He didn't smile, he still didn't do too much of that these days, but his expression did soften a little.

"Wasn't sure you'd be back so soon."

It had only been a couple of days for him, but it had been nearly a week for Steve due to the time differences between the worlds. He hesitated a moment, before finishing up setting the gun back together and then put it down as requested.

"The people I spoke to were very willing to help us out. Pretty much opposite of what I keep expecting." He didn't have a good track record with that. Usually he had to go and do something heroic on his own before anyone stood to take notice. But this was pretty nice for a change. He shifted his head so that it rested on Bucky's lap. It wasn't the first time he'd done that and it gave him a little thrill. Being close to Bucky like this made him think of all the times he'd hung out with Bucky and Bucky's gal of the hour. And how often Bucky or one of their other friends would let his head be pillowed by the skirts of the girl they were seeing.

He never thought that would be for him and now it was.

"What happened with Tony? He's looking better but... Did you two go at it again?"

For a moment Bucky was startled, but then the fingers of his flesh hand slipped down to card through soft blond hair as if this really was a dame on his lap back in the old days. It was good, a contact between them that was another intimacy point without ramping it up too fast.

"Did he say that?"

Which was as good as a confirmation, but Bucky didn't want to actually go into it with Steve. He didn't want to admit what they had talked about and why it had upset him-- actually, he probably only had to admit the first bit for Steve to figure out why it had upset him and probably go and punch Tony in the nose.

"He didn't have to," Steve said lightly. "He was acting the way he gets when he thinks the whole world is being unfair to him," he said. "He mentioned you, kept his eyes forward, and deflected. I did the math." It was relatively easy math too. No carrying of numbers or awkward equations needed.

The touch of a hand against his hair left his lips turning upward. He was all right with this sort of intimacy. He would never push Bucky for anything and he already felt like the luckiest guy in the whole world to have what he did. He'd wanted it for so long without letting himself know he wanted it that each moment passing by was bliss.

His eyes closed but he wasn't about to fall asleep during this conversation.

"Can't let him get to you. He does that double talking because he's unhappy. And I feel for him, but you should t go down with him."

Bucky left his hand in Steve's hair, but ceased moving it for now, almost as if he were shielding Steve from looking at him while he spoke. He couldn't tell his husband any part of the conversation with Tony without all the other bits coming out, but he was so tired of lying and pretending to the one person he knew he could trust above everyone else.

"I told him about sleeping in the closet."

He knows that Steve knows, Tony was right about that, there's no way he's managed to keep it quiet.

"I told him that I want to touch you, but you deserve to be touched by someone human. He offered to draw pornographic art of what you might want and treated it like a joke."

They were going to talk about the closet? Steve wasn't sure how to even approach that. Nothing good was ever going to come of it. It was Bucky's decision and Steve just thought it would come with time. But obviously not time soon enough. It hurt. Under Bucky's hand, Steve's forehead bunched up. He was opening his eyes and looking up, though his vision was completely blocked.

"He was just being inappropriate. I think that's the only way he knows how to be," Steve said soothingly. Or at least tried. It was hard to get himself together here. "It's... Buck, if you want to look at that stuff-- It's normal right? Mostly normal? Maybe not if Tony draws it but it's fine. I'm not asking to do anything here. When it happens, it happens. I'm not rushing you. But if you want to talk about it-- you can still come to me. We can talk it out together and figure it out together, right?"

And if this was really about Bucky wanting drawings... Steve was a better artist.

Of course it wasn't about him wanting drawings, it was about him sharing with Tony and then Tony treating it like it was all a hilarious sex joke. His hand remained where it was on Steve's forehead to keep him from looking up at him with those piercing blue eyes, discomfort evident in his voice and the way his body had gone completely tense underneath his husband.

"I don't want to look at that stuff, Tony was just trying to make a joke because I can't even have sex with my own husband."

God, it sounded even worse when he put it like that.

"...I'm sorry, Steve."

Steve reached up to grab Bucky's wrist but he didn't pull his hand away, or get into a battle to do it. He just held on. "It's no ones business but ours," he said. "And no one else's opinion matters. I told you already, I don't need--"

It was just hard to talk about. There was no polite way to do it and even if Steve wasn't completely polite, he was still gentleman.

"We don't need it. It doesn't matter what Tony Stark says. You were.... Things happened. I get that, Buck. Don't be sorry. If you love me and I love you, what else matters?"

"It matters because I'm your goddamn husband, Steve."

Bucky's voice finally betrayed some of the irritation he felt at this whole situation. He wanted to be with Steve in all the ways that a husband should be, he just couldn't seem to get past this stupid roadblock in his head.

"I don't care how much you say you don't need it, you shouldn't have to be celibate because of me. You want it, Steve, don't try and deny it."

If Steve wasn't a super soldier, his palms would be sweating from embarrassment right now. The thought of Bucky... Just the thought, it made his breath quicken and his pulse race. He couldn't deny the fact that since he no longer had to hide how much he wanted his friend and now husband, it was impossible to do it.

"I think... I think that you think pretty highly of yourself there, pal," Steve tried to deflect. His half laugh was horribly timed and fell flat. "I'm still running off of that memory of what your hand felt like. And that's a pretty good memory. When you're ready, the rest will happen. It's not something I deserve. It's something worth waiting for."

Tony was going to get punched. This might have set Bucky back, and anything that harmed his husband's progress was an affront to nature.

Bucky hated this, he knew that Steve was a good guy and he would never push Bucky beyond what he could handle, but it just made Bucky's skin crawl every time he failed at something he wanted to do. Because god did he ever want to have his mouth and fingers on and in Steve, but he just couldn't seem to make that leap.

"Shut up being so understanding for once, you punk."

It made it worse.

"At least Tony knew what a fucking crime it is to have a guy like you and not touch him."

Uh... "Okay so now Stark is the good guy here? That's pretty low," Steve said, only partially joking. "And that almost sounds like... I don't even want to think about Tony touching me."

His laughter was lighter now and he lightly tugged on the other man's wrist.

"Can I please look at you? I might be too understanding but I like what we have. And I like the idea of what might be coming. But I'm a little terrified of it too. If God didn't smite us for getting married, it's probably fine but... You're not the only one with hang ups here, Buck. But you can... Always touch me. Whenever you want. However you want. Or don't. You have the option. Maybe Tony's jealous of that."

Strangely, he had never even considered that Tony might be jealous of what they had, but who wouldn't be? Steve was a catch in literally anyone's eyes, he was handsome, smart, caring, and just all-round perfect, and somehow Bucky was the one who landed him. It made him half smug and half feel even worse about being unable to give him what he damn well deserved.

"I want to touch you in every way god intended a married couple to touch one another and a few more, it ain't about want."

But he did remove his hand from Steve's face finally, letting his arm fall by his side.

"I just want to be normal again, Steve, is that really such a bad thing?"

"I'm gonna be blunt here, Buck. None of us are ever going to be normal again. You're doing better with what you got than I think any of us would. You are, and you've had it the worst. So hey. If you want to, and I want to, and there's just this fear in your head that it can't happen and you're gonna disappointment if we stop in the middle-- how about we just try? You can touch me. Or I can touch you. And if it's too much, we'll go have some ice cream."

With Helblindi here in the frozen building, and Jotunheim's donation of fish and vegetables and creams from whatever strange beasts they must have on their world, vanilla ice cream was once more a reality.

"Maybe I can go over those marks they left on you. Then you'll only have me. It's just an option if you want it."

Of course he wanted it. He wanted it more than he could breathe most days, he wanted to erase the Soldier and be Bucky again. He wanted to be able to flop in bed with his husband in his arms and not have to get out because the damn thing felt too exposed to sleep in.

"Yeah."

Just that one word, but it was permission for a whole lot more. He wanted Steve to try and put his hands on him, he wanted to do the same in reverse, and he wanted to power through when the fear came. Prove to himself that he could do it.

"Okay." This wasn't how he imagined it. That didn't mean that he wasn't interested, but he'd always pictured a whole different scenario. Then again, his first attempt at anything sexual had been when he was sick in the bathroom of his mother's house after she died.

Steve took Bucky's hand and lightly kissed his knuckles as he sat. He kissed his cheeks and then his lips. Briefly.

"But not on the roof. Come downstairs with me?"

He stood and offered his husband a hand up. It was hard to hide the lust in his eyes. Even Steve, perfect Steve, could want sex.

That look in Steve's eyes lit a fire inside of him that was half anger and half lust, it was reminiscent of the way others had looked at him unwanted, but it was also Steve and those beautiful blues darkened by desire was pretty intoxicating. The kiss helped tip it towards lust and away from anger, because Steve was the only one who had ever kissed him, none of the others had ever been so intimate.

"I'll go wherever you wanna lead me, Steve."

Downstairs, into hell, literally anywhere. He took that hand and pulled upwards with the grace of a predator and then swung down in through the window to their little bedroom.

Steve was a fumbler. He hadn't been lying about being unskilled and all he knew at the moment was that he wanted to touch every part of Bucky he could as quickly as he could. He was a graceful man, the serum enabling his body to do whatever his mind wanted it to, and while that meant that he could stay on his feet, he was still half tripping as he got Bucky into bed.

And that was before he accidentally tore his own shirt off. "Oh crap," he lamented. Textiles were pretty difficult to come by and stuff that fit him was even harder. He knelt over Bucky, in just his jeans and boots and wedding right, and absolutely pouted down at the mangled white cleaning rag he'd just made.

Maybe Bucky could help with the undressing before Mr. Understanding ruined their whole wardrobe.

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