Bucky’s eyes lower to watch the tiny wrinkles caught on Steve’s shirt ease out as he smooths a splayed palm over them; they don’t usually get guys as big as Steve out here, and if any strong men got drafted, they lost a lot of it on the front lines where rations could get tight. So sometimes they got trouble with Steve’s measurements; close but not perfect, so the shirt looks like it’s clinging tight to Steve’s broad frame. Steve’s built like a Greek God because Rebirth made him that way. Bucky’s finally used to it. Of course he can admit he looks good.
But something soft, wistful, settles on Bucky’s face. If he’d been braver, he could have been exploring Steve before the war. “We’d have landed in hot water quick. I don’t know about you, but - “ Bucky’s gaze slides back up to Steve’s eyes, his grin wicked. “- I know I can’t keep it down.”
Just something to leave stuck in Steve’s head the rest of the week.
He trails his touch along his shoulder, imagining it bonier, narrow. Steve would be light and slender, but you’d better prepare yourself for a living hell if you figured him delicate or busted. Maybe his hands would have some charcoal dusting along the fingertips and knuckles; just enough to leave smears on their skin while they had Sinatra floating in the night and no real hurry to hop to anything.
It’s when Steve mentions after the War that something falters in Bucky’s face; it’s quick as a blink, a moment’s uncertainty, sadness, uneasiness all flickering across Bucky’s face before he covers it up. He’s not supposed to make it through the war.
Bucky’s also never gonna put that on Steve. Instead, he squeezes his shoulder and grins broadly up at Bucky. “Of course I want to. Just gotta play it smart, I don’t want to give my folks a heart attack. But we’ll find a nice place, thick walls, maybe a nice view of the ocean or something. Hell, I bet I can afford to take you to the Ritz at least once in my lifetime. It’ll be our first real date.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-07-09 04:12 am (UTC)But something soft, wistful, settles on Bucky’s face. If he’d been braver, he could have been exploring Steve before the war. “We’d have landed in hot water quick. I don’t know about you, but - “ Bucky’s gaze slides back up to Steve’s eyes, his grin wicked. “- I know I can’t keep it down.”
Just something to leave stuck in Steve’s head the rest of the week.
He trails his touch along his shoulder, imagining it bonier, narrow. Steve would be light and slender, but you’d better prepare yourself for a living hell if you figured him delicate or busted. Maybe his hands would have some charcoal dusting along the fingertips and knuckles; just enough to leave smears on their skin while they had Sinatra floating in the night and no real hurry to hop to anything.
It’s when Steve mentions after the War that something falters in Bucky’s face; it’s quick as a blink, a moment’s uncertainty, sadness, uneasiness all flickering across Bucky’s face before he covers it up. He’s not supposed to make it through the war.
Bucky’s also never gonna put that on Steve. Instead, he squeezes his shoulder and grins broadly up at Bucky. “Of course I want to. Just gotta play it smart, I don’t want to give my folks a heart attack. But we’ll find a nice place, thick walls, maybe a nice view of the ocean or something. Hell, I bet I can afford to take you to the Ritz at least once in my lifetime. It’ll be our first real date.”