Steve looks at Bucky like he hung the moon. He's proud. So obviously and ferociously proud of his friend that it's clear he would have slapped a medal on his chest, were one available. How could he not be? Steve fell off a train and died and Bucky picked himself up and took the shield. Carried on the Captain America legacy for the nation. For him. It's the best gift he could have been given.
"Yeah. You know what? I think they can. But I'm gonna have to get used to not outranking you." He nudges back feeling that same rush of intoxicating nostalgia. He's hanging on by his nails and that probably means Bucky is too. As though it matters. As though they needed to be strong with each other. He grips his arms, holding on tight.
"If I order you to stick around here for the night, will you do it anyway?" There's a softness to the request. An honest yearning. "Call me a moron, but I'm still half afraid this is a dream. And if it is, I want to make sure I spend enough time enjoying it."
Bucky's almost, honestly, taken aback by the look in Steve's eyes. He knows
he's done the job differently than Steve would have, even trying to be the
man he knows Steve was - is, because he's standing right here in
front of him, and he might not even be dead back home. Shit. Shit.
It's almost a relief when Steve cracks a joke, nudges him back, and Bucky's
maybe about to make some smartass remark about how Steve never should've
outranked him in the first place, but then Steve's voice and his face get
soft, and he asks that question, and - "Shit, Steve," he says, just as
softly. When was the last fucking time Steve enjoyed anything - or admitted
to it? Probably the last time Bucky had, and that was way, way too long
ago. "You don't have to order me to do anything. If you think I'm leaving
you alone in here... just don't. I'm not gonna." He lets out a breath.
"It's not exactly a hardship. I've been sharing space with you pretty much
my whole life."
Just in case that might have been different, somehow. But he doesn't think
it was - not given the way Steve's looking at him. "If I'm stuck here... at
least I'm stuck here with you." He might be all too aware of the fact that
he's going to - probably - end up going home someday, leaving Steve behind,
going back to what he had, and what he didn't have. But suddenly, being
kidnapped is maybe not the worst thing that's happened to Bucky in his
life. (Okay, given everything else, it was maybe number five on the top ten
list anyway, but still.) "Are we staying here?"
Steve relaxes visibly. He smiles, shaking his head and patting Bucky hard on the shoulder so he doesn't start bursting into tears and hugging him all over again. "I have some cushions. For the chairs. We can put them on the floor like we were kids." He could take Bucky back to his room on the Bishop but it's so small. And a selfish, selfish part of him doesn't want to share this. Not yet. He just wants Bucky to himself.
He pulls away, getting the supplies and spreading them out for the night. "In the morning...we'll figure everything out. Introduce you around and everything. In the morning." Not yet. For now, it's just them. Just them and a small, interstellar art studio provided by their benevolent kidnappers.
Christ. Life here just got impossibly more complicated.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2019-02-06 06:31 pm (UTC)Steve looks at Bucky like he hung the moon. He's proud. So obviously and ferociously proud of his friend that it's clear he would have slapped a medal on his chest, were one available. How could he not be? Steve fell off a train and died and Bucky picked himself up and took the shield. Carried on the Captain America legacy for the nation. For him. It's the best gift he could have been given.
"Yeah. You know what? I think they can. But I'm gonna have to get used to not outranking you." He nudges back feeling that same rush of intoxicating nostalgia. He's hanging on by his nails and that probably means Bucky is too. As though it matters. As though they needed to be strong with each other. He grips his arms, holding on tight.
"If I order you to stick around here for the night, will you do it anyway?" There's a softness to the request. An honest yearning. "Call me a moron, but I'm still half afraid this is a dream. And if it is, I want to make sure I spend enough time enjoying it."
no subject
Date: 2019-02-06 07:22 pm (UTC)Bucky's almost, honestly, taken aback by the look in Steve's eyes. He knows he's done the job differently than Steve would have, even trying to be the man he knows Steve was - is, because he's standing right here in front of him, and he might not even be dead back home. Shit. Shit.
It's almost a relief when Steve cracks a joke, nudges him back, and Bucky's maybe about to make some smartass remark about how Steve never should've outranked him in the first place, but then Steve's voice and his face get soft, and he asks that question, and - "Shit, Steve," he says, just as softly. When was the last fucking time Steve enjoyed anything - or admitted to it? Probably the last time Bucky had, and that was way, way too long ago. "You don't have to order me to do anything. If you think I'm leaving you alone in here... just don't. I'm not gonna." He lets out a breath. "It's not exactly a hardship. I've been sharing space with you pretty much my whole life."
Just in case that might have been different, somehow. But he doesn't think it was - not given the way Steve's looking at him. "If I'm stuck here... at least I'm stuck here with you." He might be all too aware of the fact that he's going to - probably - end up going home someday, leaving Steve behind, going back to what he had, and what he didn't have. But suddenly, being kidnapped is maybe not the worst thing that's happened to Bucky in his life. (Okay, given everything else, it was maybe number five on the top ten list anyway, but still.) "Are we staying here?"
Thread Wrap <3
Date: 2019-02-10 01:48 am (UTC)He pulls away, getting the supplies and spreading them out for the night. "In the morning...we'll figure everything out. Introduce you around and everything. In the morning." Not yet. For now, it's just them. Just them and a small, interstellar art studio provided by their benevolent kidnappers.
Christ. Life here just got impossibly more complicated.