(no subject)

[bottledblond]

Not every universe in the far and wide cosmos is as lucky (however unlucky itself that seems) to encounter Thanos during a time where people live who can do something about it. Steve Rogers, a particular version of Steve Rogers who had only just suffered through his first night of basic training in New Jersey as part of the Army’s Project Rebirth and thus had not yet become Captain America, bent to untie his shoes and saw his hands begin to disintegrate. He doesn’t panic, panicking is for people who do not live like every breath is their last. Instead, he blinks in surprise as the barracks fill with shouting. He has time to contemplate two things. One, he wishes he’d done more with his life. And two, he hopes Bucky will do all right.

He’s still thinking about that last issue when he exhales his last in a universe where Captain America never existed and finishes it bent over in the ruins of the barracks, roof half open to the sky and walls a burnt and ashy gray.

It takes him an hour to get to the road and by then, his asthma is already getting the best of him. He blacks out for the second time ‘that day’ and wakes up staring at the ceiling of what is obviously a hospital.

It just doesn’t sound or smell like a hospital. Sure. People are running around and yelling, but it smells painfully clean, artificially so, and there are machines he’s never seen before connected by wires to his body. He does the thing people should never do and yanks them loose. The machines squawk strangely and frantically and Steve is almost out of bed when two large men in green pajamas force him back.

Nothing makes sense to him for days. People come to talk to him, to find out who he is and who his family is. Evidently Steve Rogers is a popular name, because they bring in more people to talk to him, to ask him questions about his life, but no one has any answers.

He explodes, as he’s wont to do when frustrated, demands answers, but nothing they say makes sense.

By then, the war is over. Not World War II, which has evidently been over for over half a century, but this new war. And Bucky Barnes had been told of his presence. Steve is in bed, arms crossed, looking dour and getting an infusion of something that honestly is helping him breathe better when Bucky bursts into his now private room. It’s been two months

Comments

[starkingenuity]

“I think you’re sexy with them off or on,” Tony says. “The Big Guy gave me a few hours with you in private.” He carefully unbuttons Bruce’s shirt, not wanting the greener, larger body to destroy it. “If you don’t take large chunks of time from him, maybe he’ll let me have a few more private moments later.”

Tony isn’t going to sleep with the man. Not tonight at least. He’d never slept with his husband during the entire time they’d been in love and he’s not in a huge rush to get right to it.

Slow burns are the best burns, and ye, he realizes that’s extremely unlike him to think that way.

He does enjoy undressing Bruce, though, right down to his noticeably stretchy underwear, before he puts his hand on the man’s inhibitor.

“Thank you for tonight. For the date. I had a better time then I could ever let you know.”

[seven_phds]

"He will." A smile as he stills and lets Tony undress him. "We sort of came to an agreement about certain parts of our relationship."

Bruce leans in and kisses him, soft and sweet before stepping back. They aren't going to rush into this, even if his heart already wants Tony completely in his life. "I had fun too. It was nice."

Then he thumbs off the inhibitors and slides them off his wrists. Returning to his normal size is a little uncomfortable, but he can shrug it off quickly anymore and Bruce offers Tony his hand. "Come on. I promise I won't squish you."

[starkingenuity]

“Seriously? Maybe that’s one of my kinks,” Tony teases, still reeling from the feel of Bruce’s lips against his. Maybe his toes curled, maybe not, but he’s all for jumping into bed with the guy to enjoy the heat of his body and to watch him sleep.

He’s always loved being with him while he slept. Even as a little boy.

In the other wing, Steve is feeling his own sort of way. The mission planned, at least as a preliminary reconnaissance, none of his bones aching, and with a genuine sense of purpose now firmly under his belt, he can’t help but watch Bucky as he does a sweep of the room.

He doesn’t interrupt, he just leans back against the door and watches him check every potential entry point, nook and cranny.

“Can I ask you a favor? You can say no, Buck. But it’s been a few days since I’ve gotten the chance to draw anything. Do you think you could sit still for an hour or two?”

[woundedwinter]

He doesn't need to sweep the wing or the rooms or any of it, but it soothes an itch at the back of his brain and helps him try and calm down enough to sleep. There are people that matter to him in the villa and he wants to be aware of every sound, every possible entry and exit to keep them safe.

The question stops him and he turns towards Steve, fingers at the hem of his shirt, caught before he headed to the shower to try and let the hot water help him relax. "Uh, yeah Stevie. I think I can sit still so you can work."

[bottledblond]

Steve can’t help but grin at that, eyebrow arching, as he shuffles towards his bag. There’s a bunch of supplies in there but he chooses pencil and paper. He just feels the most comfortable with them. As he’s flicking through the book to find some blank pages, back to Bucky, he hesitates just a moment before he says: “you can take the shirt off.”

Sure, drawing the folds of clothing can be satisfying, but he can openly gawk at the guy while he draws him, so why not take a slightly edgier step in that direction?

[woundedwinter]

"Oh." Now he understands. It's not like Steve hasn't drawn him before, but that was before their relationship had changed. With a huffed laugh he tugs his shirt off, dog tags jingling as they fall to rest on his chest.

"Okay pal, where do you want me?" He can move and sit however Steve wants him. Bucky has always liked watching Steve draw, the way his brows furrow and how quickly and sure his hands are on the paper. "I'm all yours."

[bottledblond]

All mine, Steve can’t help but repeat in his mind. It fills him with a certain thrill, heart pounding noticeably before he can tap it down. “I wonder if it will be different to draw like this,” he says, trying to be nonchalant, like he’s not feeling emotional and excited.

He’s seen Bucky without a shirt on. He’s seen Bucky in the shower. He’s seen the joint where his arm is socketed.

But knowing Bucky is in love with him flavors this moment.

Steve turns and holds his breath as he looks up at his friend. “That wingback chair by the window?”Steve intends to sit on the floor against the bed so he can balance the book on his knees.

[woundedwinter]

"You're a great artist, pal. Why you want to draw this ugly mug I don't know," he teases as he sits down in the chair. Everything is new for Steve now that he has the serum and it's calming to hear how even and strong his heart is.

"Want me to read to you while you draw? Like we used to?"

[bottledblond]

“There’s no part of you that’s ugly, you idiot. Don’t even try to pretend otherwise,” Steve laughs, forgoing his usual pillow to keep his back from aching. Or his hips from hurting. It’s freeing.

He licks the end of the pencil because he can’t help himself, and then mentions how he isn’t sure if that particular habit will die hard.

“Can you read the Lord of the Rings to me? I can’t believe he wrote a sequel to the Hobbit!” Steve squirms for a moment, taking Bucky in completely.

Gorgeous.

He’s gorgeous.

Steve has to hold his breath before he starts.

[woundedwinter]

He's grateful that the half-light hides the way that he blushes at Steve's assertion.

"Yeah sure, and when the job is over we can watch the movies. You'll love them. They're beautiful."

It's probably not as romantic for him to read from his tablet instead of a heavy book, but it's what he's got. "I can't promise I'm still gonna be good at the voices," he warns with a grin.

[bottledblond]

“I’m going to want my money back if you butcher this for me,” Steve scoffs, lightly tracing out Bucky’s general shape on the page. It’s rough, he’s not sure of the exact gesture he wants to capture just yet, but the elements are all faithfully recorded.

He knows it’s pretty late. The shadows cast by the darkness and soft glow of the tablet make the hour seem even later still. He enjoys this particular time, when nothing else has to matter and they are left alone.

In the distance, he hears a car door shut and he thinks Tony and Bruce must be home. His hand is heavier at the thought of the two stealing glances and he doesn’t immediately force his thoughts elsewhere. They linger on the two men as he shades in the barely visible v-shaped patch of skin above Bucky’s belt buckle.

His hand is faster and more precise than usual but his face still contorts beautifully in concentration.

[woundedwinter]

It's late, but he can hear Tony and Bruce coming back as well and he's happy for them. Bruce deserves to be happy after the losses he'd endured.

He chuckles quietly at Steve's threat and starts reading. It was one of the first series he started once he'd regained any sense of self. Tolkien had built an incredible world of hope and faith in the face of incredible darkness.

Bucky had read the trilogy several times since Steve had been taken from him. So he reads easily, listening to the scratch of pencil on paper. He'll read until Steve tells him to stop, content to give him whatever he needs.

[bottledblond]

This feels good. Bucky reading almost makes Steve feel calm enough to sleep, though the current subject matter before him certainly does not. He puts as much effort into listening to his friend as he does to getting down his image, though. It’s a perfectly pleasant way to spend the next hour or so.

Of course, as interesting as it is to sculpt the body of a man who loves you into paper for your viewing pleasure at a later date and time, the story sweeps Steve right up and he finds himself paying much more attention to the plot than to his art.

That’s probably for the best, of course. Any more detailed and the sketch would jump off of the page.

[woundedwinter]

Once the Fellowship make it to Rivendell he has to call a stop to reading. They're both tired after training most of the day and they'll have an early morning tomorrow. He marks his place before closing down his tablet and plugging it in.

"C'mon pal. It's late as fuck and morning is going to come all too soon." Bucky holds up a hand. "I know, with the serum you won't need to sleep as much, but you still need sleep."

[bottledblond]

Mouth opening and closing again, all Steve can do is suppress a whine. “You’re at a really good part,” he finally says just as a yawn breaks. He manages not to call Bucky ‘’mom’ as he closes his sketch book.

“We are going to have to make a pact here to finish this mission fast so we can get back to the story,” Steve says, reaching for Bucky’s hand.

He doesn’t feel much like letting go, so he threads their fingers together instead. “Will you stay with me for a little while?”

Bucky will likely shift to the floor but Steve wants to feel that body pressed against him first.

[woundedwinter]

"Yeah. I'll stay." Bucky's smile is a small and warm thing as he lets Steve tug him towards the bed. It's incredibly soft and overrun with pillows, but with Steve wanting him close, he thinks it'll be okay for the night.

Bucky can close his eyes and fall asleep to the steady and clear sound of Steve's breathing.

[bottledblond]

As tired as Steve is, he doesn’t sleep. He can’t afford to. Bucky is half on top of him, face against his shoulder, and Steve’s arms are tight around him. It feels like it always should have. It’s titillating and leaves his imagination running in all sorts of directions that he simply can’t do anything about but tamp down.

It’s not like they can just kiss for the rest of the night, even if that’s exactly what the twenty-two year old wants to do. They have a job... And Bucky has been keeping it chaste enough to put little pressure on them both but all it really does is leaves Steve wanting more.

When Bucky stirs, Steve has barely shut his eyes. Just as well. He can’t calm his brain down.

[woundedwinter]

Bucky makes a sleepy sound as he reaches up to poke at his face. "C'n hear you thinking punk," he mutters into his skin. "Still got an hour or two before we gotta get up."

The serum reduces their need to sleep, but rest is still important.

And to be honest, Bucky is comfortable right where he is, laying tangled up with Steve in bed. They'll worry about the mission later. Right now everything is still hazy and sleep-soft and he's going to soak it in for as long as he's able.

[bottledblond]

For a moment, Steve actually panics over the possibility that Bucky really can hear him thinking. Even though telepathy isn’t one of the serum’s little gifts, of course, the blond still curtails anything untoward he might have in his brain.

He stretches and bends one knee to gently rest it against Bucky’s hip. His fingers make a semi-thoughtless cup against the back of his neck before he lightly scratches short fingernails into his hair.

“Stop being obsessed with trying to hear my thoughts and sleep for another hour or two,” Steve counters.

[woundedwinter]

Bucky hums as Steve moves closer, sighing when he starts scratching through his hair, something he's always been a sucker for. "That's cheating and you know it."

His own hand slips to rest on Steve's chest, thumb moving in a slow sweep back and forth as he listens to his heartbeat. "You're gonna need to rest sometime, pal. What's got you all distracted?"

[bottledblond]

Bucky can’t be serious. Steve lifts his head briefly off of the pillow, notes the look of enjoyment but not amusement on the older man’s face, and sighs as his head drops back down. How can this great big idiot not know? Steve closes his eyes on the upward tick of a roll and smooths down the ruffle he’d caused in Bucky’s hair.

“You,” Steve replies with a joking sort of malice in his voice, as if this particular problem is unwanted and annoying. He’s got a whole lot of bare skin against him and license not to be chemically castrated or jailed for liking it.

[woundedwinter]

He cracks an eye open when he feels Steve move, his head dropping back to the pillow with a huff. Bucky opens his eyes completely, shifting to prop himself up on his elbow and then it hits him. They've slept in the same bed before but he's always had a shirt on and last night he hadn't bothered to put one on.

Fingers gently touch his jaw, turning Steve towards him. A smirk of pure mischief curls his lips.

"I think I know how to take care of that particular problem. C'mere."

[bottledblond]

Though it’s the exact opposite of what he wants, Steve gently and playfully pushes Bucky’s shoulder away from him. “How is this less distracting?!” he asks in a falsely higher pitched voice, as if he’s fully outraged. “This is just making it worse!”

Of course, he doesn’t want Bucky to go anywhere and if he even tries, Steve plans to grab at his shoulder.

It’s so much harder to know that he can feel this way about Bucky and no one will really judge him. It makes wanting him utterly impossible.

[woundedwinter]

The mock outrage only pulls a laugh from him as he leans in to kiss him soundly and silence any further protest. If Steve really wanted him to stop he'd say so, or even put him through the wall with one good push. So he lets himself enjoy the moment of laying with his best guy and kissing him. In the privacy of the bedroom he can deepen the kiss, taste his lips and not worry about anyone interrupting.

"Making it worse huh?"

[bottledblond]

Steve thinks kissing is the best thing ever. Hopefully Bucky can hear him think that. Hopefully he can understand just how remarkable this is for him. Two months away from his time has opened up his entire self to things he had never thought possible.

He kisses Bucky back with the abandon shown in films, and when the older man corrects him gently with little shifts of his hands or his lips, Steve feels the heat settle into him in areas he didn’t know it could.

Steve’s not a great kisser, but he’s learning. He wraps thin arms around Bucky’s shoulders and really leans into it. There’s a half whine to his voice as his fingers trail down Bucky’s arms and back. He hadn’t known he could be so attracted to someone like this.