Bucky says he doesn't want to be a lab rat and Steve holds his breath as the lottery wheel spins once again. This time, however, there's another ball added to the rest. It slipped in the minute Bucky's hands touched his arms. Steve still feels static energy whenever he moves so much as a hair.
Bucky licks his lips and Steve is consumed by wondering what they feel like.
The truth is, of course, that this feeling isn't novel. It isn't the first time he's met Bucky's eyes and felt guilt over where his mind had gone. Steve thinks he'd always felt the draw in his lower stomach whenever Bucky smirked his way. He'd at least known well enough what it meant when he woke up in the morning and only got wood after knowing Bucky was the one curled close around him. It had been shameful and embarrassing and Steve had perhaps indulged in a moment or two more than he should have. But they'd never crossed the line. Steve had never taken that step. He might have been the sick one but he wouldn't bring Bucky down with him.
And then, Rebirth.
Steve can remember the first time he relaxed at camp and looked over at Bucky after Erskine. Those same butterflies rising up and making his heart flutter. It was then that Steve knew his feelings hadn't been a sickness. It hadn't been wrong. The serum hadn't cured him because there was nothing to cure. And he'd used that incredible knowledge to do fucking nothing.
But here Bucky is. And that ball spinning inside of Steve is painted red with all the furious desire that he's kept contained.
If it's the one that bubbles to the top, Steve is frankly worried about what he might do.
"You keep us safe," Steve says evenly. He bends his elbows, carefully drawing Bucky in. "You always keep us safe, Buck. God. I want so bad right now to do that for you."
The wheel stops and there is no decision. No laughter. No tears. No ripping Bucky's clothes off and tossing him to the floor. Steve has to make a choice, it seems.
It may be he already has.
Bucky is close enough that one of Steve's hands can wrap around his waist and press against the small of his back. It's a simple move that breaks any semblance of naive misunderstanding. Steve runs his fingertips slowly up and down Bucky's lower spine.
"I shoulda known better. I shoulda seen it. But you were always so incredible to me, Buck. I was used to thinking you hung the stars. Even when I became a super soldier, it only made sense for you to still be so...so fucking amazing."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-04-21 05:05 am (UTC)Bucky licks his lips and Steve is consumed by wondering what they feel like.
The truth is, of course, that this feeling isn't novel. It isn't the first time he's met Bucky's eyes and felt guilt over where his mind had gone. Steve thinks he'd always felt the draw in his lower stomach whenever Bucky smirked his way. He'd at least known well enough what it meant when he woke up in the morning and only got wood after knowing Bucky was the one curled close around him. It had been shameful and embarrassing and Steve had perhaps indulged in a moment or two more than he should have. But they'd never crossed the line. Steve had never taken that step. He might have been the sick one but he wouldn't bring Bucky down with him.
And then, Rebirth.
Steve can remember the first time he relaxed at camp and looked over at Bucky after Erskine. Those same butterflies rising up and making his heart flutter. It was then that Steve knew his feelings hadn't been a sickness. It hadn't been wrong. The serum hadn't cured him because there was nothing to cure. And he'd used that incredible knowledge to do fucking nothing.
But here Bucky is. And that ball spinning inside of Steve is painted red with all the furious desire that he's kept contained.
If it's the one that bubbles to the top, Steve is frankly worried about what he might do.
"You keep us safe," Steve says evenly. He bends his elbows, carefully drawing Bucky in. "You always keep us safe, Buck. God. I want so bad right now to do that for you."
The wheel stops and there is no decision. No laughter. No tears. No ripping Bucky's clothes off and tossing him to the floor. Steve has to make a choice, it seems.
It may be he already has.
Bucky is close enough that one of Steve's hands can wrap around his waist and press against the small of his back. It's a simple move that breaks any semblance of naive misunderstanding. Steve runs his fingertips slowly up and down Bucky's lower spine.
"I shoulda known better. I shoulda seen it. But you were always so incredible to me, Buck. I was used to thinking you hung the stars. Even when I became a super soldier, it only made sense for you to still be so...so fucking amazing."