Nothing could’ve prepared Bucky for the sharp stab of disappointment that goes through him when he realizes he’s back in his time, and not waking up tangled up with that other Steve from a far future. Shame flushes hot in a brief, curious flicker across Bucky’s face, but for all this - his - Steve knows, it’s only ‘cause he’s the reason Steve’s hovering over him looking as worried as Bucky used to when he thought he’d have to call that priest.
Jesus, I’m a real piece of work. I’m back here with my best friend and this is how I’m feeling? Get it together, Barnes.
“Maybe I like keeping you on your toes,” Bucky says, even as he’s scrambling to figure out what happened. All he’s got is the faintest trace of incense lingering on him;the kind that seems exotic, faraway and slowly fading. Just for a moment, Bucky’s curls his hands into the comforter thrown over him, mostly so he doesn’t go doing something stupid like dragging Steve down into a fierce kiss. One thing to talk about it with that other Steve. One thing to press kiss after kiss to him like he’s never planning on stopping. Another thing to come face to face with his Steve who doesn’t got a clue. Bucky’s resolve wavers.
Then Steve’s grabbing his hand, and Bucky sucks in a sharp little gasp like he’s feeling his hand on him all over again. His fingers tangle with his and squeeze tight, holding Steve in a way he’s never let himself after the 107th’s rescued. People can overlook it after you get dragged out looking half dead. Just not any other time. Bucky gives him a squeeze, resting his hand over there’s. See? He’s not going anywhere.
His eyebrows shoot upwards all the same as he echoes;.“Hours? You kidding me?”
Bucky has to fight a little with the pillows -who’s bed is this, anyway? - until he can sit up. Reaching for the water, Bucky cradles it in his hands as he searches the room like it’ll give him a clue, then Steve’s face.
What happened is a version of you and I practically wore a bed down to scrap metal. Bucky thankfully doesn’t blurt out. “I just came here to have a couple drinks and that it’s. Been a long week and that last mission was pretty rough. Guess I must've been more beat than I thought.”
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Jesus, I’m a real piece of work. I’m back here with my best friend and this is how I’m feeling? Get it together, Barnes.
“Maybe I like keeping you on your toes,” Bucky says, even as he’s scrambling to figure out what happened. All he’s got is the faintest trace of incense lingering on him;the kind that seems exotic, faraway and slowly fading. Just for a moment, Bucky’s curls his hands into the comforter thrown over him, mostly so he doesn’t go doing something stupid like dragging Steve down into a fierce kiss. One thing to talk about it with that other Steve. One thing to press kiss after kiss to him like he’s never planning on stopping. Another thing to come face to face with his Steve who doesn’t got a clue. Bucky’s resolve wavers.
Then Steve’s grabbing his hand, and Bucky sucks in a sharp little gasp like he’s feeling his hand on him all over again. His fingers tangle with his and squeeze tight, holding Steve in a way he’s never let himself after the 107th’s rescued. People can overlook it after you get dragged out looking half dead. Just not any other time. Bucky gives him a squeeze, resting his hand over there’s. See? He’s not going anywhere.
His eyebrows shoot upwards all the same as he echoes;.“Hours? You kidding me?”
Bucky has to fight a little with the pillows -who’s bed is this, anyway? - until he can sit up. Reaching for the water, Bucky cradles it in his hands as he searches the room like it’ll give him a clue, then Steve’s face.
What happened is a version of you and I practically wore a bed down to scrap metal. Bucky thankfully doesn’t blurt out. “I just came here to have a couple drinks and that it’s. Been a long week and that last mission was pretty rough. Guess I must've been more beat than I thought.”