Young and a little stupid maybe. [And there was the war. Speaking up, saying anything? Wouldn't have changed Bucky shipping out. And it wouldn't have changed what happened to Steve, perhaps. And after? After Steve had eyes only for Peggy and—
And it wasn't a bad thing. Bucky had his own demons to work through anyway, and Steve and Peggy — they worked. They worked and Steve got that soft, goofy smile on his face when he talked about her and that was it, that was the plan: win the war, go home, be Steve's best man.
Really, it had been a good plan.
But right now, right here? This is good too, sitting on the counter and watching Steve form pancakes on the griddle, watching the expressions on his face and the faintest hint of pink that occasionally graces the tips of his ears.]
It wasn't the right time. We both know that. [One foot nudges against the side of Steve's leg, something he deems the safest because, well, hot stove top.] I think it could be a good time now though.
You saying we're not still a little stupid? [Steve can't quite hide the flicker of pain--he's made some tremendous mistakes, of late--but he lets it go a moment later, in light of pancakes and Bucky's touch.
And Bucky's proposition. If anyone can heal the two of them, it's one another, and Steve gives him an unintentionally coy glance in his peripheral vision, smiling awkwardly. Hopefully.]
Can we do it right, then? Flowers, dancing, all that kinda goofy shit? I mean, you can still chase me down with limericks, too. I'll count that as love poetry.
[Normally Bucky would twist that statement into a tease, lick into Steve mercilessly until they're both rolling on the floor with laughter. But it's the look in Steve's eyes that stops him. They're both still a little broken and trying to piece themselves back together. It's not necessarily a comfortable thing, but it's an important one.]
Maybe just a little. [He shrugs though; it's not a bad thing.] Maybe my stupid just needs your stupid.
And we could try, sure. I don't know how much of that I even remember how to do. [Isn't sure that he even wants it anymore, but he's not going to tell Steve something that he's having trouble reconciling himself. No, it's something he's got to dig into in terms of the whys, see if it's tied up in memories or the reality of his existence. It's not a struggle Steve needs to see, at least not yet — not until Bucky can explain it a little better.] But if you keep looking at me like that, I'm gonna have a hard time waiting until after breakfast to kiss you.
Our stupids compliment one another? I believe that. [The tension flees away again, and his smile goes from awkward to soft and warm.
Steve worries his lip, considering, without any particular concern that that gesture will make Bucky more inclined to kiss him. (Would that be a bad thing? The pancakes might burn.)]
Well, I never did learn to dance. And I'm not expecting to pretend we just stepped back in time or anything like that. Just let me try to be sweet here and there without laughing at me, okay? [Because flowers will probably be a thing before too long. Anything fancier than that can wait. Flowers, sharing a beer, and making out on the fire escape sound like a fair balance to Steve.]
Wanna know what's even scarier? Our smarts compliment each other too. That's downright terrifying.
[There's the smile again though, the one Bucky just wants to lean a little closer to — especially when Steve chews on his own lip a moment later. His eyes are drawn right to the sight and he can't help that his tongue flicks out to wet his own lips in response. Steve really is just that attractive, and a lot of it is tied up into how he doesn't seem to even realize it. It's just natural in the way he moves — or perhaps it's more that he moves this naturally around Bucky. Bucky isn't sure which it actually is but he's most certainly not complaining either way.
And really, it's the practicality of burned food and the inevitable cleanup that would follow that are keeping him behaving right now. Well, for the most part.]
Hey, have I ever laughed at you when it's counted? [Laughed with Steve certainly, out of mutual enjoyment and happiness. Laughed at him? There's a difference.] You do sweet and I'll be wicked and we'll meet in the middle?
We have smarts? [He laughs and drops batter into the pan. There's a brief crackle as it hits the hot surface and spreads, and then the chocolate chips start to melt and make the sweet smell in the room even sweeter.]
You suppose we fit like that because we grew up so close, or is it just who we are? Maybe a little of both? [Steve has no idea whether he's attractive, or what his exact appeal is. He used to think it was the bulk and strength, and maybe for some people it is, but he's come to understand that attraction is far more individualized than that. And if Bucky had eyes for him before the serum...well, who knows what drew him then, other than familiarity?
Bucky was always beautiful, though. He had that poise and cockyness that Steve tried in vain to imitate, full lips and steely eyes, and he looked like trouble--the fun kind of trouble--until he smiled, and then he looked like an angel visiting Brooklyn on holiday. Steve was the reverse; he always looked innocent and vulnerable until he cracked a grin, and then he looked like the cat that caught the canary.
The truth was that they were both trouble, of course, and still are, so when Bucky suggests he'll be the wicked one, Steve isn't surprised.]
I like that. That'll take some of the pressure to be wicked off of me. [He flips the pancake and reaches for his coffee, then changes his mind and rests his hand on Bucky's knee instead.]
You've got a smart mouth. [It's an automatic reply, one that comes with a twist of a smirk, the one that means there's some Bucky-esque wickedness incoming.] Maybe after breakfast I'll show you how smart my mouth can be.
[If his expression is anything to go by, he's fully expecting the statement to give Steve a wicked blush and maybe even some stammering. But there's also a serious question in there, one that makes his expression soften a little bit as he considers it.]
I think a bit of both, honestly. I mean, we've always just fit together, haven't we? [Sure, maybe not like this, not with the flirting and the lingering looks and little touches. But they have always fit right at each other's side from the very beginning, and it's always had less to do with Steve's appearance and more to do with his heart. Bucky's never met anyone like Steve, and he doesn't think he ever will. He's one of a kind for sure and Bucky thinks that this relationship, this whatever-it-is that they're tentatively building, is going to be pretty special too.
Steve's touch is welcomed, Bucky's leg shifting just a little bit closer to Steve. He wouldn't mind exploring a little bit more how they can touch, but it's going to wait until there's no hot stove to mind.]
Just wanna ease your workload a little. I know you overextend yourself. [Fingertips brush over the back of Steve's hand, feeling the structure of the bones under smooth skin.] We're in this together, remember?
['Smart mouth' is a fair assessment, and Steve is about to say so, but Bucky's flirt catches him before he can respond, so all that comes out is a faint noise like the start of a word, then a huff of air. Steve rewards that wickedness with a grin, and quite a bit of a blush, and can't think of a good response. Instead, he basks in his own awkwardness for a moment.
He's not quite the stumbling ingenue he was when he was in his twenties, but for an old soldier, he's pretty inexperienced. Even if he wasn't, Bucky would still be able to throw him off his game, just by being Bucky.]
Guess we have. I remember being a little jealous of you here and there, but never enough to want to push you away. [He watches Bucky's fingertips on his skin, and something deep in his chest is shivering with want.
It can wait. They have time now, enough time not to rush.]
Maybe because I mostly just wanted to be worthy of you. [Which is a weird way to put it, maybe, like somewhere in his head Steve thought he was some kind of knight with a chivalric bond to his best friend.]
I overextend myself? You mean, with being trouble? [He's not sure if Bucky's teasing him again or if he's speaking more seriously this time. Either way would be absolutely valid, but there's something more alluring about the kinder interpretation. Steve doesn't need to be coddled (at least, he doesn't think he does), and he's comfortable with the idea that he's always going to have more duty than time to do it in, but Bucky is good at finding ways to care for him, even when he puts up a fuss about it.]
Wouldn't have it any other way. [He says softly, and bumps their foreheads together gently.]
[The blush, he's quickly deciding, is a good look for Steve, a rush of color in fair skin. He likes it, likes how readily it comes to the surface, likes that he even can make Steve blush. It's endearing.]
Jealous of me? [It makes him chuckle, albeit not unkindly. Bucky can honestly see where it comes from, given their situations growing up: him with constant dates, Steve with constant potential to be left behind. But Bucky had never wanted to leave him, never meant to leave him, and wouldn't have left him at all save for the war. It had changed a lot of things in their lives, but it had also brought them a hell of a lot closer in the aftermath. He hated that they'd ever needed to fight, hated that the Nazi movement had ever even been a thing to begin with, but Bucky wouldn't give up the camaraderie that they'd had with the Commandos, the brotherhood that he shared with Steve. It's more precious to him than anything else.]
Steve. [He waits for a moment, to see if the other man will look up.] You're a lot of things to me, but unworthy was never one of them. Okay?
[No, Steve had always been the best friend, the complementary puzzle piece, the platonic other half. The constant in Bucky's life. To think he could be even more than that, its—
He honestly doesn't have the words for it. But he wants to find them out, too.]
Being trouble, finding trouble, all of it. Someone's gotta watch your back. [He almost says that it's not a bad view to have, but Steve's leaning close and Bucky lets the tease go in favor of this quiet little moment instead. His eyes flicker closed for the space of a breath, simply enjoying it.]
Hey. Let that one burn, okay? [The pancake he means, because he's curving a hand to Steve's cheek and leaning in to brush a kiss across his mouth.]
[Maybe it's the Irish blood in Steve that makes him show a blush so well. He was just as bad about it before the serum, if not worse. You'd think his anemia would have curtailed it, but no.
He means jealous in both the possessive sense and the envious one. Bucky was as poor as Steve, growing up, but he was also able-bodied, good-looking, and ridiculously charming. He was the protagonist of a classic romantic comedy, ready to go out into the world and find his fortune, and Steve was the minor character, the awkward best friend. Then their roles turned around abruptly during the war, with Steve suddenly strong and vibrant thanks to the serum, and Bucky half-haunted by his experience at Hydra's hands. (But they were still the same people and still needed one another).
Maybe it was inevitable that they should be pulled together this way, but it couldn't happen until they were both in the same place. He looks up when Bucky speaks his name, and he knows he's speaking the truth.]
I figured that's the kind of thing you'd say. Don't know what you ever saw in me, but I'd be an idiot to question it.
[His returning smile is warm and bright, and sure, screw the pancake. Steve will eat it burnt anyway, if Bucky won't. He tilts his head into the touch with a shiver and half-collapses into the kiss, silent but needy for it.]
[Maybe it always was inevitable that they'd end up together, some sort of cosmic fate that insisted they be put in the same place, and in a place that they could be together. Maybe Steve had needed to put that plane down in the water for more than one reason. Maybe Bucky had needed—
No. He's not going to bring thoughts of HYDRA into this. They're here, they're together, and they're exploring what that togetherness could potentially be. That's what's important.]
You're an idiot, but you're my idiot.
[Steve will surely be able to feel the smile that curls against his lips and Bucky can't help but turn one kiss into two, lingering as they figure out how their mouths fit together. It's easy to lose track of time and he'd stay here, just like this, just to keep doing this. But the smell of burning pancake and chocolate does interject its presence into their lingering and when Bucky breaks away it's with a laugh.]
Okay, too much burning! [Could pancakes even catch fire while cooking? He doesn't want to find out.] But we can do a hell of a lot more kissing after they're done.
[He meant it when he said he couldn't imagine life without Bucky. As badly as he wanted to come back to Peggy, maybe he would have tried a little harder to land the Valkyrie if he'd realized he was still alive somewhere. Maybe he would have failed, anyway.
It would be okay, in Steve's mind, to say his own journey was worth it. Bucky's, though--he can't even think about that. He pulls him closer, arms around his waist, and if he's just going to keep kissing him, Steve isn't going to object.
He looks a little mesmerized when they break off, and it takes his brain a second to catch up with what might be burning.
Oh, right! Breakfast! He scrambles to remove the singed batter from the pan, and turns the heat down.] Aw, you won't even taste the burned part if you cover it with enough syrup.
[He's still red, and lets out a huff of air that's forceful enough to blow a couple stray strands of hair off his forehead.] Breakfast, then kissing. I like this plan.
[His own appetite has flown out the window abruptly, but he promised pancakes and he will deliver.]
[This is nice, sitting on the counter, kissing Steve, leaning closer while arms snake around his waist. It’s all nice, much nicer than it probably has a right to be. Much nicer than Bucky knows he deserves. Much nicer than he should want. But he can’t help wanting Steve, wanting this closeness and wanting to explore what it can become.
And if it’s more mornings like this with silly poetry and burnt breakfast, he will happily take every second of it, just to see Steve’s smile. Oh, and his scramble to deal with the burnt bits is pretty funny too!]
We can split that one and do a taste test. [Okay that makes no sense at all but he doesn’t even care.] Unless you want to just refrigerate the batter for later and go right to the kissing now.
[Bucky feels broader and more solid in his arms than he expected. There's muscle memory, maybe, from when they were boys and both smaller, with less muscle layered onto them. Steve's change was more drastic, maybe, and sudden, but Bucky is certainly bigger. Funny how he should notice the shape of that change against him as 'bigger than expected' rather than equate it with the size comparison from when they were young and feel like he seems smaller.
At least they're finally about the same height. That's way more convenient for kissing.
Steve grins, putting the burnt pancake on a plate and cutting it in half with the spatula.] Go for it.
And no, I'm not refrigerating the batter. [No matter how much he suddenly would rather be making out.] I'll make the pancakes up and if we're more interested in kissing then, we can refrigerate them and microwave them later.
[Because then he will at least have fulfilled his offer to make pancakes. If Bucky chooses then not to eat them right away, that's not Steve's fault.]
[Hugging Steve like this is kind of strange too. It almost reminds him of their youth, except now the difference in their height is from Bucky sitting on the counter, not from their genetics. And Steve's certainly broader and more solid; he doesn't fit in Bucky's arms the way he used to for the few hugs they had shared. But he likes it. He likes it a whole lot, likes knowing that Steve isn't going to break, that he's not going to hurt Steve with an accidental grab.]
You know that the way to my heart is through burnt breakfast foods, right? [Hey, it wouldn't be Bucky is there isn't at least a little teasing!
He leans away from Steve in order to reach for the drawer with the cutlery; the action causes his shirt to ride up just a little at the side. But he's sitting up again in a moment anyway, a pair of forks clutched victoriously in his hand. Winning!
And the pancake? Most definitely burnt, but there are worse things in life. He snags another bite and offers it to Steve off the fork.]
Your dedication to breakfast is inspiring. Did they have you make a nutrition video? [Those PSAs had been an absolute delight to find out about, and had left Bucky in tears from the laughter the first time he watched them. Still, he only ever brings them up when they're in private like this, because he knows it's likely to embarrass his friend.
Boyfriend? They'd have to figure that out.] Steve, I'm gonna be honest with you, I'm probably going to be more interested in kissing you than in just about anything else. Just saying.
Is that so? [Steve gets the syrup out of the fridge and sets it by the plate.] Burnt ones, specifically?
[His mouth goes dry when Bucky leans over and inadvertently exposes his side. It's not much, but it's enough for Steve to see scars and muscle, more than enough to make him imagine running his fingers down that exposed skin.
Oof. Yeah, he's definitely not going to be eating much before they fall into making out. There's a little ache in his chest, like his body is rebelling against being pulled away from Bucky's so soon.
When offered the bite of pancake, Steve can feel the blush creep down his neck, but he leans in and takes it, anyway, halfway between laughter and lust. But of course Bucky has to harass him, too, and--that's okay right now. He rolls his eyes, mildly pained, but manages to chew and swallow the bite of food before answering:] Three of 'em, but I don't know if they ever edited the clips into anything. There's a lot of terrible footage of me out there somewhere.
[Which is embarrassing, but no more so than the theatrics of his USO days. As long as Bucky doesn't tease him too much in front of the other Avengers, it's all right.
He raises an eyebrow then, studying Bucky's expression, and damn but it's gratifying to see an echo of what he's feeling there. He thought they were going to play it safe, take it slow, but it feels like now that they've crossed the barrier this far, they can't stop.]
...well, we ate one of them. [His voice crackles a little.] That's a start, right? I guess we could just...finish up later?
Only if you're the one who's burned them. [Clarification is important!
And it's probably a good thing that Bucky is ignorant of the effect that that leaning has on Steve; he'd been much too focused on grabbing cutlery. Otherwise he might have said screw it to pancakes and batter both, and just hauled Steve right in for a makeout session. But no, there's a burnt pancake to share and Bucky's going to keep feeding Steve little syrup-drenched bites in between taking his own.
And as far as the videos? Bucky's honestly not going to say too much else about them. He knows how it makes Steve feel and he'll poke a little fun when they're alone, but more than that is stepping a little too close to being cruel and he doesn't want to hurt his friend like that.] I can't imagine anything you do being terrible, I hope you realize that.
[It probably sounds a little sappy, but it's true. Bucky can't remember a time that Steve hasn't thrown his all into whatever task was in front of him, and there's a kind of beauty in that dedication, that determination. Even when it was back alleys and guys who were bigger than he was, Steve never actually backed away from something he thought was right. Bucky thinks that it's that more than anything else that makes people want to follow him: his charisma, his determination, his sense of what's right.
It's only one of the things that Bucky finds attractive about him.
Another one, a very big one right now, is physicality. Bucky's always been very physical himself and right now he's very, very aware of Steve's presence next to him: how his gaze lingers, how he's drifted a little closer, how his voice betrays him and his skin is still a little flushed. And he likes it. He likes it a lot.]
Yeah. [He eyes what's left of the batter, eyes the stove; it's clear that Bucky's calculating.] Finish making them, but I'm gonna package them right away. Not much interested in eating right now.
[Microwaved pancakes aren't as good as fresh but fresh pancakes aren't as good as the prospect of making out with Steve.]
Aww. [Steve breaks into laughter.] Only my burned pancakes. I'm not sure if that's sweet or insulting.
[Why can't it be both? They're good at pushing one another's buttons, both sweet and sour.
There's something unexpectedly sensual about Bucky feeding him little bites of pancake. Steve is not sure what it is in his psyche that's getting off on that little gesture. He doesn't like being taken care of, for the most part; he had way too much of that as a kid. But Bucky makes it different, maybe because of their history or maybe just because he's goddamn Bucky Barnes. Steve would lick stray drops syrup off his fingers if he wasn't afraid that would bring their cooking venture to an abrupt conclusion.]
And now you're buttering me up. [He accuses, prepared to act as if he doesn't believe a word of Bucky's flattery. His eyes betray him, though. He's grateful for that kindness. Personally, Steve feels he does quite a few things that are terrible, mostly in the sense of embarrassing and laughable, but every now and again in the sense of ethically debatable. His moral core is rock-solid, but his actions have consequences that hurt to watch. It makes a guy wonder, is all.
His relentless determination, though, is undeniable. He knows that's something Bucky has always recognized in him, and maybe it made him pull his hair out in frustration years ago, but he seems to like it now.
Bucky himself, meanwhile, is made of charisma, head to toe. He was smooth as silk when they were boys, and now the years have roughed him up badly inside, but somehow he's lost none of his charm. And in the same way, even if he's lost his left arm, the physical grace remains. Maybe he doesn't see it in himself, but Steve sees the unquenchable light at the heart of James Buchanan Barnes, and loves it.
He nods, going back to cooking, and his concentration is utterly shot now, anticipation making his breath short and his face pink. At least he manages not to burn any more of them, even if he has to carefully not look at Bucky for most of the rest of the time he's flipping the pancakes.]
Well, when you decide which one it is you let me know and we'll go from there. [Sour and sweet and all the shades in between; it's the summation of their friendship and something special to them. Steve breaks all of Bucky's rules about keeping people at arm's length. Everything that Bucky tries to do to keep himself apart from people, to keep them safe from him — and Steve breaks right through it like he belongs right at Bucky's side.
He always has; that space has always been for him. Bucky just never thought that he could deserve to have so much of Steve's attention, not anymore. To know that he does is something he both treasures and guards fiercely.
And the looks that Steve's giving him? They make his stomach flip flop a little bit because while Bucky most certainly knows how to flirt — and he's damn good at it — flirting with Steve and knowing that the attraction is mutual? That's something entirely new.
It's a good thing he doesn't know about that half-formed impulse to lick syrup from his fingers or else things would escalate very very quickly.]
Maybe just a little. [He laughs though, and not unkindly. Even in lightheartedness like this there lurks a potential for heavy topics and heavy concerns and Bucky doesn't want to steer toward those waters right now. It's not complete avoidance; they've talked about the darker cast their lives now have, talked about how they've ended up where they are and even talked a little bit about hardships endured. But this isn't the time for those thoughts to intrude. No, this is a time for everything that's warm and welcoming, time for Bucky to retrieve clean plates and plastic wrap from the cabinets so that pancakes can slide right on with the wrap stretched carefully over top.
It gives him a good opportunity to watch Steve, as well: to watch his blush, to watch his hands as they maneuver the spatula, to watch the play of the muscles across his shoulders as hands and arms move. To just sit and watch, because he hadn't been kidding earlier: Bucky likes looking at Steve. A lot.
And once the pancakes are done? Once everything that needs to be packaged is packaged, once the stove is turned off so that there won't be any more adventures in burning? Bucky reaches out to touch Steve's shoulder, to let his fingers drag along it to find the side of his throat, his cheek. He keeps it gentle, not forceful; wants to draw Steve in with an invitation, not a command.]
It's you, is what it is. [Steve tells him warmly, just barely holding back laughter in his voice.] You're the only guy I know who can be sweet while he's being a jerk.
[The stalking delivery of his limerick earlier is a perfect illustration. Steve couldn't ask for better. In spite of everything they've been through and everything that's hanging over their heads, he feels content right now. Happy.
That's Bucky's fault.
Once the pancakes are packaged and ingredients are put away, Steve is drawn into his friend's touch like there's a magnet pulling him in. Wouldn't matter if it was more aggressive; Steve's not scared of him and he'd come in close willingly. Still, the softness is nice.
When they were younger, that gentleness would have been offputting. Steve never wanted to be coddled then, wanted to be seen as strong and masculine and a force to be reckoned with. Now, he wishes he hadn't taken tenderness and care for granted for so many years. Now, gentleness makes him melt inside.
His arms go around Bucky's waist tentatively.] You want to stay here or go sit on the couch?
It's a skill. [What can he say? Aside from the fact that maybe Steve brings it out in him.
Steve brings out a lot of things in him. One of them is possibility. With Steve sliding close like this, that one word holds so much weight. And it's not an uncomfortable burden; it's one of the few things that isn't a burden at all.
Like cleaning the kitchen, like putting away ingredients and getting things into the sink to soak in some soapy water. Like putting the ingredients away and folding the apron over a stool by the counter. Like sharing a look with Steve, one that leads to getting close again, to a gentle touch and a smile and when Steve moves to return the embrace? It's perfect.
Bucky sways closer, into the embrace of those arms, his free hand curling against Steve's shoulder. There's a smile on his face, warm and open.] Both. Is both an answer?
[No Bucky, you really need to pick one.] I think the idea of the couch wins though. As much as I'm always going to like this kitchen for witnessing our first kiss, I'd really just like to be closer to you.
[It's a lot less teasing than most of Bucky's recent comments, and that's because of how important this is to him. How much he wants to do things right, how much he wants to match the sweetness Steve said he wanted. Not that there isn't room for teasing, for wickedness, even for a little bit of rough play; they're all things that Bucky knows he likes. But he also thinks he likes this, likes how it fits a lazy morning with half a burnt pancake shared and he's betting that Steve's kiss is going to taste sweet now, like syrup and chocolate.
[Bucky is many things to Steve; he's a reminder of who they were before the war and the serum and goddamned Hydra put them through the wringer. He's a reminder of who Steve once was, and when he's questioning his own identity, that's grounding. He's also a refuge, someone who put himself on the line for Steve more times than he can count, who actually used to irritate Steve by being so damned protective.
Now his raw nerves seem to stop aching so much in Bucky's presence. Sure, he's a mess himself. There's still guilt and there will always be a fight they can't get away from, but when Steve is with Bucky, he is home. His head knows it, and so does his body.]
Witnessing our first kiss? Now you really are being sentimental. [And he likes it. He's even a little desperate for it, and Bucky's reward for it is a tighter embrace, Steve burying his forehead against his shoulder for a moment.
But then, because he's pretty sure even with Bucky's increased bulk he still can, Steve pulls him off the counter and into his arms and makes for the next room, where the couch can be found.] All right, let's do this! That sofa won't know what hit it.
[They've always been a matched set: Bucky and Steve, Steve and Bucky. In all of their forms, all their shades, they've always been a duo. And sure, it hasn't always been an easy thing and the dynamic they'd once had is long since gone. But this is good too. It's more than good in fact; its grounding in the way nothing else is.
Being with Steve is being home, no matter where they end up — to the end of the line and back again.]
You bring it out in me. [It's true; Bucky isn't really the sentimental sort, and most of the things he'd be sentimental about anyway are all tied up in Steve. And a moment like this, with Steve holding him closer, with Steve leaning closer? It's perfect for sentiment, for turning his head to nuzzle softly against Steve's temple.
And for clutching to Steve's shoulders when he's lifted off the counter! It's definitely not something he was expecting — Steve had certainly never been able to do it in their youth — and the action makes him laugh and wrap his legs securely around Steve's waist. He's going to be near breathless by the time they make it to the couch, eyes shining with the happiness he feels at just being together, just having this chance.]
Just don't drop me! [It's clear that it's a tease more than anything else; Bucky trusts Steve with his life and he most certainly trusts in Steve's strength now. He knows he won't be dropped. Playfully tossed on the couch and pounced, now — that would be a different story.]
[Steve is a little surprised at himself. He had no doubt in his mind he could lift Bucky--he can lift a lot of things, can demonstrably hold down a helicopter trying to take off, so one guy, even one with a metal arm and a lot of muscle, isn't that hard to carry--but carrying him to the couch for a makeout session is bolder than Steve's usual approach to intimate contact.
Maybe it's a little easier with Bucky. It means more, and the stakes are higher, but they've been close for a long, long time.
Steve is breathless by the time they reach the sofa, as well, because the feeling of Bucky's thighs wrapped around his waist is really intense. There's a lot of muscle, he can feel it, and there are some connotations his brain isn't prepared to deal with calmly. He bites down on his lower lip, grinning and blushing, and when they get to the couch, he pauses for only a moment, metaphorical wheels turning in his head as he tries to decide whether he wants to pounce on top of Bucky or let himself be pounced.
In the end, he opts for the former, more or less flinging them into the cushions and rolling on top of the other man. There's a little less space on the couch than is ideal for two tallish guys, so Steve's legs trail off the cushions, but it's pretty cozy anyway.
He props himself up on his elbows and smiles fondly down at Bucky. He's rose-pink, all the way down his neck.]
[There are implications to the way they're positioned. Those implications had been there in the kitchen when Steve leaned close, and they're most definitely present when he wrapped his legs around Steve's body. And Bucky can't deny that there's a very physical aspect to it: they're both physical people, both very much present and comfortable in their skin. And Bucky's flirting has always been very physical: getting close, holding hands, putting arms around shoulders. So wrapping his legs around Steve's waist?
Steve's not the only one who's face is getting a little bit pink.
But what really does it for Bucky is as they pass from kitchen to living room and he has the stray thought — in Sam's voice no less — about walls and sex ninjas and it's so ridiculous because they are nowhere near anything like that (yet...?) for all that they'd teased a little while Steve was cooking. And that actually helps with the tension, helps him to let go some of the embarrassment that is those implications and just enjoy the simplicity of being in Steve's arms, of trusting in Steve to move them.
Because he trusts Steve with everything — apparently even his heart. And that thought? That brings the laughter right back and he holds to Steve a little tighter, shoulders shaking with his mirth.
Bucky's in stitches by the time his back hits the couch cushions with Steve pressed atop him. It's a pure kind of laughter, free and clear and happy and delighting more than anything in just being a little bit silly with his best friend. With Steve. Who he gets to hold now too, gets to hug and kiss and feed burnt pancakes to and—
—and it's okay that Steve's blushing because Bucky is grinning like a fool. It's okay that they don't quite fit on the couch, that feet hang off and there's not really a good way to manage things like elbows and knees. It's perfect actually because it's not perfect, and that's just fine for two kids from Brooklyn.]
This is perfect. [He raises one hand to brush the hair back from Steve's face, trying to combat the bit of gravity that's working against him.] Nowhere else I'd rather be.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2018-03-29 06:06 pm (UTC)And it wasn't a bad thing. Bucky had his own demons to work through anyway, and Steve and Peggy — they worked. They worked and Steve got that soft, goofy smile on his face when he talked about her and that was it, that was the plan: win the war, go home, be Steve's best man.
Really, it had been a good plan.
But right now, right here? This is good too, sitting on the counter and watching Steve form pancakes on the griddle, watching the expressions on his face and the faintest hint of pink that occasionally graces the tips of his ears.]
It wasn't the right time. We both know that. [One foot nudges against the side of Steve's leg, something he deems the safest because, well, hot stove top.] I think it could be a good time now though.
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Date: 2018-03-30 02:00 pm (UTC)And Bucky's proposition. If anyone can heal the two of them, it's one another, and Steve gives him an unintentionally coy glance in his peripheral vision, smiling awkwardly. Hopefully.]
Can we do it right, then? Flowers, dancing, all that kinda goofy shit? I mean, you can still chase me down with limericks, too. I'll count that as love poetry.
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Date: 2018-03-30 03:10 pm (UTC)Maybe just a little. [He shrugs though; it's not a bad thing.] Maybe my stupid just needs your stupid.
And we could try, sure. I don't know how much of that I even remember how to do. [Isn't sure that he even wants it anymore, but he's not going to tell Steve something that he's having trouble reconciling himself. No, it's something he's got to dig into in terms of the whys, see if it's tied up in memories or the reality of his existence. It's not a struggle Steve needs to see, at least not yet — not until Bucky can explain it a little better.] But if you keep looking at me like that, I'm gonna have a hard time waiting until after breakfast to kiss you.
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Date: 2018-04-02 02:56 am (UTC)Steve worries his lip, considering, without any particular concern that that gesture will make Bucky more inclined to kiss him. (Would that be a bad thing? The pancakes might burn.)]
Well, I never did learn to dance. And I'm not expecting to pretend we just stepped back in time or anything like that. Just let me try to be sweet here and there without laughing at me, okay? [Because flowers will probably be a thing before too long. Anything fancier than that can wait. Flowers, sharing a beer, and making out on the fire escape sound like a fair balance to Steve.]
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Date: 2018-04-02 04:47 am (UTC)[There's the smile again though, the one Bucky just wants to lean a little closer to — especially when Steve chews on his own lip a moment later. His eyes are drawn right to the sight and he can't help that his tongue flicks out to wet his own lips in response. Steve really is just that attractive, and a lot of it is tied up into how he doesn't seem to even realize it. It's just natural in the way he moves — or perhaps it's more that he moves this naturally around Bucky. Bucky isn't sure which it actually is but he's most certainly not complaining either way.
And really, it's the practicality of burned food and the inevitable cleanup that would follow that are keeping him behaving right now. Well, for the most part.]
Hey, have I ever laughed at you when it's counted? [Laughed with Steve certainly, out of mutual enjoyment and happiness. Laughed at him? There's a difference.] You do sweet and I'll be wicked and we'll meet in the middle?
(sorry for the lag; got sick and fell behind on tags)
Date: 2018-04-10 06:51 pm (UTC)You suppose we fit like that because we grew up so close, or is it just who we are? Maybe a little of both? [Steve has no idea whether he's attractive, or what his exact appeal is. He used to think it was the bulk and strength, and maybe for some people it is, but he's come to understand that attraction is far more individualized than that. And if Bucky had eyes for him before the serum...well, who knows what drew him then, other than familiarity?
Bucky was always beautiful, though. He had that poise and cockyness that Steve tried in vain to imitate, full lips and steely eyes, and he looked like trouble--the fun kind of trouble--until he smiled, and then he looked like an angel visiting Brooklyn on holiday. Steve was the reverse; he always looked innocent and vulnerable until he cracked a grin, and then he looked like the cat that caught the canary.
The truth was that they were both trouble, of course, and still are, so when Bucky suggests he'll be the wicked one, Steve isn't surprised.]
I like that. That'll take some of the pressure to be wicked off of me. [He flips the pancake and reaches for his coffee, then changes his mind and rests his hand on Bucky's knee instead.]
(no apologies needed! i hope you're feeling better and i'm totally okay with slow tags, seriously)
Date: 2018-04-10 10:04 pm (UTC)[If his expression is anything to go by, he's fully expecting the statement to give Steve a wicked blush and maybe even some stammering. But there's also a serious question in there, one that makes his expression soften a little bit as he considers it.]
I think a bit of both, honestly. I mean, we've always just fit together, haven't we? [Sure, maybe not like this, not with the flirting and the lingering looks and little touches. But they have always fit right at each other's side from the very beginning, and it's always had less to do with Steve's appearance and more to do with his heart. Bucky's never met anyone like Steve, and he doesn't think he ever will. He's one of a kind for sure and Bucky thinks that this relationship, this whatever-it-is that they're tentatively building, is going to be pretty special too.
Steve's touch is welcomed, Bucky's leg shifting just a little bit closer to Steve. He wouldn't mind exploring a little bit more how they can touch, but it's going to wait until there's no hot stove to mind.]
Just wanna ease your workload a little. I know you overextend yourself. [Fingertips brush over the back of Steve's hand, feeling the structure of the bones under smooth skin.] We're in this together, remember?
<3
Date: 2018-04-11 03:24 am (UTC)He's not quite the stumbling ingenue he was when he was in his twenties, but for an old soldier, he's pretty inexperienced. Even if he wasn't, Bucky would still be able to throw him off his game, just by being Bucky.]
Guess we have. I remember being a little jealous of you here and there, but never enough to want to push you away. [He watches Bucky's fingertips on his skin, and something deep in his chest is shivering with want.
It can wait. They have time now, enough time not to rush.]
Maybe because I mostly just wanted to be worthy of you. [Which is a weird way to put it, maybe, like somewhere in his head Steve thought he was some kind of knight with a chivalric bond to his best friend.]
I overextend myself? You mean, with being trouble? [He's not sure if Bucky's teasing him again or if he's speaking more seriously this time. Either way would be absolutely valid, but there's something more alluring about the kinder interpretation. Steve doesn't need to be coddled (at least, he doesn't think he does), and he's comfortable with the idea that he's always going to have more duty than time to do it in, but Bucky is good at finding ways to care for him, even when he puts up a fuss about it.]
Wouldn't have it any other way. [He says softly, and bumps their foreheads together gently.]
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Date: 2018-04-11 04:03 am (UTC)Jealous of me? [It makes him chuckle, albeit not unkindly. Bucky can honestly see where it comes from, given their situations growing up: him with constant dates, Steve with constant potential to be left behind. But Bucky had never wanted to leave him, never meant to leave him, and wouldn't have left him at all save for the war. It had changed a lot of things in their lives, but it had also brought them a hell of a lot closer in the aftermath. He hated that they'd ever needed to fight, hated that the Nazi movement had ever even been a thing to begin with, but Bucky wouldn't give up the camaraderie that they'd had with the Commandos, the brotherhood that he shared with Steve. It's more precious to him than anything else.]
Steve. [He waits for a moment, to see if the other man will look up.] You're a lot of things to me, but unworthy was never one of them. Okay?
[No, Steve had always been the best friend, the complementary puzzle piece, the platonic other half. The constant in Bucky's life. To think he could be even more than that, its—
He honestly doesn't have the words for it. But he wants to find them out, too.]
Being trouble, finding trouble, all of it. Someone's gotta watch your back. [He almost says that it's not a bad view to have, but Steve's leaning close and Bucky lets the tease go in favor of this quiet little moment instead. His eyes flicker closed for the space of a breath, simply enjoying it.]
Hey. Let that one burn, okay? [The pancake he means, because he's curving a hand to Steve's cheek and leaning in to brush a kiss across his mouth.]
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Date: 2018-04-12 02:47 pm (UTC)He means jealous in both the possessive sense and the envious one. Bucky was as poor as Steve, growing up, but he was also able-bodied, good-looking, and ridiculously charming. He was the protagonist of a classic romantic comedy, ready to go out into the world and find his fortune, and Steve was the minor character, the awkward best friend. Then their roles turned around abruptly during the war, with Steve suddenly strong and vibrant thanks to the serum, and Bucky half-haunted by his experience at Hydra's hands. (But they were still the same people and still needed one another).
Maybe it was inevitable that they should be pulled together this way, but it couldn't happen until they were both in the same place. He looks up when Bucky speaks his name, and he knows he's speaking the truth.]
I figured that's the kind of thing you'd say. Don't know what you ever saw in me, but I'd be an idiot to question it.
[His returning smile is warm and bright, and sure, screw the pancake. Steve will eat it burnt anyway, if Bucky won't. He tilts his head into the touch with a shiver and half-collapses into the kiss, silent but needy for it.]
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Date: 2018-04-12 03:51 pm (UTC)No. He's not going to bring thoughts of HYDRA into this. They're here, they're together, and they're exploring what that togetherness could potentially be. That's what's important.]
You're an idiot, but you're my idiot.
[Steve will surely be able to feel the smile that curls against his lips and Bucky can't help but turn one kiss into two, lingering as they figure out how their mouths fit together. It's easy to lose track of time and he'd stay here, just like this, just to keep doing this. But the smell of burning pancake and chocolate does interject its presence into their lingering and when Bucky breaks away it's with a laugh.]
Okay, too much burning! [Could pancakes even catch fire while cooking? He doesn't want to find out.] But we can do a hell of a lot more kissing after they're done.
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Date: 2018-04-13 07:43 pm (UTC)It would be okay, in Steve's mind, to say his own journey was worth it. Bucky's, though--he can't even think about that. He pulls him closer, arms around his waist, and if he's just going to keep kissing him, Steve isn't going to object.
He looks a little mesmerized when they break off, and it takes his brain a second to catch up with what might be burning.
Oh, right! Breakfast! He scrambles to remove the singed batter from the pan, and turns the heat down.] Aw, you won't even taste the burned part if you cover it with enough syrup.
[He's still red, and lets out a huff of air that's forceful enough to blow a couple stray strands of hair off his forehead.] Breakfast, then kissing. I like this plan.
[His own appetite has flown out the window abruptly, but he promised pancakes and he will deliver.]
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Date: 2018-04-13 10:49 pm (UTC)And if it’s more mornings like this with silly poetry and burnt breakfast, he will happily take every second of it, just to see Steve’s smile. Oh, and his scramble to deal with the burnt bits is pretty funny too!]
We can split that one and do a taste test. [Okay that makes no sense at all but he doesn’t even care.] Unless you want to just refrigerate the batter for later and go right to the kissing now.
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Date: 2018-04-16 01:18 am (UTC)At least they're finally about the same height. That's way more convenient for kissing.
Steve grins, putting the burnt pancake on a plate and cutting it in half with the spatula.] Go for it.
And no, I'm not refrigerating the batter. [No matter how much he suddenly would rather be making out.] I'll make the pancakes up and if we're more interested in kissing then, we can refrigerate them and microwave them later.
[Because then he will at least have fulfilled his offer to make pancakes. If Bucky chooses then not to eat them right away, that's not Steve's fault.]
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Date: 2018-04-16 03:50 am (UTC)You know that the way to my heart is through burnt breakfast foods, right? [Hey, it wouldn't be Bucky is there isn't at least a little teasing!
He leans away from Steve in order to reach for the drawer with the cutlery; the action causes his shirt to ride up just a little at the side. But he's sitting up again in a moment anyway, a pair of forks clutched victoriously in his hand. Winning!
And the pancake? Most definitely burnt, but there are worse things in life. He snags another bite and offers it to Steve off the fork.]
Your dedication to breakfast is inspiring. Did they have you make a nutrition video? [Those PSAs had been an absolute delight to find out about, and had left Bucky in tears from the laughter the first time he watched them. Still, he only ever brings them up when they're in private like this, because he knows it's likely to embarrass his friend.
Boyfriend? They'd have to figure that out.] Steve, I'm gonna be honest with you, I'm probably going to be more interested in kissing you than in just about anything else. Just saying.
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Date: 2018-04-16 06:58 pm (UTC)[His mouth goes dry when Bucky leans over and inadvertently exposes his side. It's not much, but it's enough for Steve to see scars and muscle, more than enough to make him imagine running his fingers down that exposed skin.
Oof. Yeah, he's definitely not going to be eating much before they fall into making out. There's a little ache in his chest, like his body is rebelling against being pulled away from Bucky's so soon.
When offered the bite of pancake, Steve can feel the blush creep down his neck, but he leans in and takes it, anyway, halfway between laughter and lust. But of course Bucky has to harass him, too, and--that's okay right now. He rolls his eyes, mildly pained, but manages to chew and swallow the bite of food before answering:] Three of 'em, but I don't know if they ever edited the clips into anything. There's a lot of terrible footage of me out there somewhere.
[Which is embarrassing, but no more so than the theatrics of his USO days. As long as Bucky doesn't tease him too much in front of the other Avengers, it's all right.
He raises an eyebrow then, studying Bucky's expression, and damn but it's gratifying to see an echo of what he's feeling there. He thought they were going to play it safe, take it slow, but it feels like now that they've crossed the barrier this far, they can't stop.]
...well, we ate one of them. [His voice crackles a little.] That's a start, right? I guess we could just...finish up later?
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Date: 2018-04-17 12:37 am (UTC)And it's probably a good thing that Bucky is ignorant of the effect that that leaning has on Steve; he'd been much too focused on grabbing cutlery. Otherwise he might have said screw it to pancakes and batter both, and just hauled Steve right in for a makeout session. But no, there's a burnt pancake to share and Bucky's going to keep feeding Steve little syrup-drenched bites in between taking his own.
And as far as the videos? Bucky's honestly not going to say too much else about them. He knows how it makes Steve feel and he'll poke a little fun when they're alone, but more than that is stepping a little too close to being cruel and he doesn't want to hurt his friend like that.] I can't imagine anything you do being terrible, I hope you realize that.
[It probably sounds a little sappy, but it's true. Bucky can't remember a time that Steve hasn't thrown his all into whatever task was in front of him, and there's a kind of beauty in that dedication, that determination. Even when it was back alleys and guys who were bigger than he was, Steve never actually backed away from something he thought was right. Bucky thinks that it's that more than anything else that makes people want to follow him: his charisma, his determination, his sense of what's right.
It's only one of the things that Bucky finds attractive about him.
Another one, a very big one right now, is physicality. Bucky's always been very physical himself and right now he's very, very aware of Steve's presence next to him: how his gaze lingers, how he's drifted a little closer, how his voice betrays him and his skin is still a little flushed. And he likes it. He likes it a lot.]
Yeah. [He eyes what's left of the batter, eyes the stove; it's clear that Bucky's calculating.] Finish making them, but I'm gonna package them right away. Not much interested in eating right now.
[Microwaved pancakes aren't as good as fresh but fresh pancakes aren't as good as the prospect of making out with Steve.]
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Date: 2018-04-17 02:33 pm (UTC)[Why can't it be both? They're good at pushing one another's buttons, both sweet and sour.
There's something unexpectedly sensual about Bucky feeding him little bites of pancake. Steve is not sure what it is in his psyche that's getting off on that little gesture. He doesn't like being taken care of, for the most part; he had way too much of that as a kid. But Bucky makes it different, maybe because of their history or maybe just because he's goddamn Bucky Barnes. Steve would lick stray drops syrup off his fingers if he wasn't afraid that would bring their cooking venture to an abrupt conclusion.]
And now you're buttering me up. [He accuses, prepared to act as if he doesn't believe a word of Bucky's flattery. His eyes betray him, though. He's grateful for that kindness. Personally, Steve feels he does quite a few things that are terrible, mostly in the sense of embarrassing and laughable, but every now and again in the sense of ethically debatable. His moral core is rock-solid, but his actions have consequences that hurt to watch. It makes a guy wonder, is all.
His relentless determination, though, is undeniable. He knows that's something Bucky has always recognized in him, and maybe it made him pull his hair out in frustration years ago, but he seems to like it now.
Bucky himself, meanwhile, is made of charisma, head to toe. He was smooth as silk when they were boys, and now the years have roughed him up badly inside, but somehow he's lost none of his charm. And in the same way, even if he's lost his left arm, the physical grace remains. Maybe he doesn't see it in himself, but Steve sees the unquenchable light at the heart of James Buchanan Barnes, and loves it.
He nods, going back to cooking, and his concentration is utterly shot now, anticipation making his breath short and his face pink. At least he manages not to burn any more of them, even if he has to carefully not look at Bucky for most of the rest of the time he's flipping the pancakes.]
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Date: 2018-04-18 03:54 am (UTC)He always has; that space has always been for him. Bucky just never thought that he could deserve to have so much of Steve's attention, not anymore. To know that he does is something he both treasures and guards fiercely.
And the looks that Steve's giving him? They make his stomach flip flop a little bit because while Bucky most certainly knows how to flirt — and he's damn good at it — flirting with Steve and knowing that the attraction is mutual? That's something entirely new.
It's a good thing he doesn't know about that half-formed impulse to lick syrup from his fingers or else things would escalate very very quickly.]
Maybe just a little. [He laughs though, and not unkindly. Even in lightheartedness like this there lurks a potential for heavy topics and heavy concerns and Bucky doesn't want to steer toward those waters right now. It's not complete avoidance; they've talked about the darker cast their lives now have, talked about how they've ended up where they are and even talked a little bit about hardships endured. But this isn't the time for those thoughts to intrude. No, this is a time for everything that's warm and welcoming, time for Bucky to retrieve clean plates and plastic wrap from the cabinets so that pancakes can slide right on with the wrap stretched carefully over top.
It gives him a good opportunity to watch Steve, as well: to watch his blush, to watch his hands as they maneuver the spatula, to watch the play of the muscles across his shoulders as hands and arms move. To just sit and watch, because he hadn't been kidding earlier: Bucky likes looking at Steve. A lot.
And once the pancakes are done? Once everything that needs to be packaged is packaged, once the stove is turned off so that there won't be any more adventures in burning? Bucky reaches out to touch Steve's shoulder, to let his fingers drag along it to find the side of his throat, his cheek. He keeps it gentle, not forceful; wants to draw Steve in with an invitation, not a command.]
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Date: 2018-04-19 02:39 am (UTC)[The stalking delivery of his limerick earlier is a perfect illustration. Steve couldn't ask for better. In spite of everything they've been through and everything that's hanging over their heads, he feels content right now. Happy.
That's Bucky's fault.
Once the pancakes are packaged and ingredients are put away, Steve is drawn into his friend's touch like there's a magnet pulling him in. Wouldn't matter if it was more aggressive; Steve's not scared of him and he'd come in close willingly. Still, the softness is nice.
When they were younger, that gentleness would have been offputting. Steve never wanted to be coddled then, wanted to be seen as strong and masculine and a force to be reckoned with. Now, he wishes he hadn't taken tenderness and care for granted for so many years. Now, gentleness makes him melt inside.
His arms go around Bucky's waist tentatively.] You want to stay here or go sit on the couch?
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Date: 2018-04-19 04:53 pm (UTC)Steve brings out a lot of things in him. One of them is possibility. With Steve sliding close like this, that one word holds so much weight. And it's not an uncomfortable burden; it's one of the few things that isn't a burden at all.
Like cleaning the kitchen, like putting away ingredients and getting things into the sink to soak in some soapy water. Like putting the ingredients away and folding the apron over a stool by the counter. Like sharing a look with Steve, one that leads to getting close again, to a gentle touch and a smile and when Steve moves to return the embrace? It's perfect.
Bucky sways closer, into the embrace of those arms, his free hand curling against Steve's shoulder. There's a smile on his face, warm and open.] Both. Is both an answer?
[No Bucky, you really need to pick one.] I think the idea of the couch wins though. As much as I'm always going to like this kitchen for witnessing our first kiss, I'd really just like to be closer to you.
[It's a lot less teasing than most of Bucky's recent comments, and that's because of how important this is to him. How much he wants to do things right, how much he wants to match the sweetness Steve said he wanted. Not that there isn't room for teasing, for wickedness, even for a little bit of rough play; they're all things that Bucky knows he likes. But he also thinks he likes this, likes how it fits a lazy morning with half a burnt pancake shared and he's betting that Steve's kiss is going to taste sweet now, like syrup and chocolate.
He should find out for sure.]
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Date: 2018-04-20 02:04 am (UTC)Now his raw nerves seem to stop aching so much in Bucky's presence. Sure, he's a mess himself. There's still guilt and there will always be a fight they can't get away from, but when Steve is with Bucky, he is home. His head knows it, and so does his body.]
Witnessing our first kiss? Now you really are being sentimental. [And he likes it. He's even a little desperate for it, and Bucky's reward for it is a tighter embrace, Steve burying his forehead against his shoulder for a moment.
But then, because he's pretty sure even with Bucky's increased bulk he still can, Steve pulls him off the counter and into his arms and makes for the next room, where the couch can be found.] All right, let's do this! That sofa won't know what hit it.
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Date: 2018-04-20 03:47 am (UTC)Being with Steve is being home, no matter where they end up — to the end of the line and back again.]
You bring it out in me. [It's true; Bucky isn't really the sentimental sort, and most of the things he'd be sentimental about anyway are all tied up in Steve. And a moment like this, with Steve holding him closer, with Steve leaning closer? It's perfect for sentiment, for turning his head to nuzzle softly against Steve's temple.
And for clutching to Steve's shoulders when he's lifted off the counter! It's definitely not something he was expecting — Steve had certainly never been able to do it in their youth — and the action makes him laugh and wrap his legs securely around Steve's waist. He's going to be near breathless by the time they make it to the couch, eyes shining with the happiness he feels at just being together, just having this chance.]
Just don't drop me! [It's clear that it's a tease more than anything else; Bucky trusts Steve with his life and he most certainly trusts in Steve's strength now. He knows he won't be dropped. Playfully tossed on the couch and pounced, now — that would be a different story.]
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Date: 2018-04-23 02:43 am (UTC)Maybe it's a little easier with Bucky. It means more, and the stakes are higher, but they've been close for a long, long time.
Steve is breathless by the time they reach the sofa, as well, because the feeling of Bucky's thighs wrapped around his waist is really intense. There's a lot of muscle, he can feel it, and there are some connotations his brain isn't prepared to deal with calmly. He bites down on his lower lip, grinning and blushing, and when they get to the couch, he pauses for only a moment, metaphorical wheels turning in his head as he tries to decide whether he wants to pounce on top of Bucky or let himself be pounced.
In the end, he opts for the former, more or less flinging them into the cushions and rolling on top of the other man. There's a little less space on the couch than is ideal for two tallish guys, so Steve's legs trail off the cushions, but it's pretty cozy anyway.
He props himself up on his elbows and smiles fondly down at Bucky. He's rose-pink, all the way down his neck.]
How's this work for you?
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Date: 2018-04-23 04:20 am (UTC)Steve's not the only one who's face is getting a little bit pink.
But what really does it for Bucky is as they pass from kitchen to living room and he has the stray thought — in Sam's voice no less — about walls and sex ninjas and it's so ridiculous because they are nowhere near anything like that (yet...?) for all that they'd teased a little while Steve was cooking. And that actually helps with the tension, helps him to let go some of the embarrassment that is those implications and just enjoy the simplicity of being in Steve's arms, of trusting in Steve to move them.
Because he trusts Steve with everything — apparently even his heart. And that thought? That brings the laughter right back and he holds to Steve a little tighter, shoulders shaking with his mirth.
Bucky's in stitches by the time his back hits the couch cushions with Steve pressed atop him. It's a pure kind of laughter, free and clear and happy and delighting more than anything in just being a little bit silly with his best friend. With Steve. Who he gets to hold now too, gets to hug and kiss and feed burnt pancakes to and—
—and it's okay that Steve's blushing because Bucky is grinning like a fool. It's okay that they don't quite fit on the couch, that feet hang off and there's not really a good way to manage things like elbows and knees. It's perfect actually because it's not perfect, and that's just fine for two kids from Brooklyn.]
This is perfect. [He raises one hand to brush the hair back from Steve's face, trying to combat the bit of gravity that's working against him.] Nowhere else I'd rather be.
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From:"upstairs brain" and "downstairs brain" is the greatest thing i have read all day
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