Steve "Stupid Beautiful Labrador Man" Rogers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
starspangled) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
checkingout2015-06-07 08:43 pm
starspangled) wrote in checkingout2015-06-07 08:43 pm
Entry tags:
[closed]
Who: Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes
Where: Steve's room - 111
When: June 7th
What: Steve returns from a canon update to find Bucky sitting vigil outside his door.
Warnings: AOU spoilers, angst, tbd.
[The air goes from being too thin to being heavy and humid in a single breath. Steve gulps it anyway as he lifts his head to take a look around the boiler room. He knows this place... That doesn't do much for his confusion, not when it just brings up questions that he didn't have before.
It's been a year, but it all rushes back to him once he step outside that door. The hallways, the stairwells, his room. Steve remembers it all, along with the others who were trapped here with him. Some where from his world, some weren't, but he can't understand how he could just forget about them, like someone flipped a light switch inside his head and threw them all into darkness. Did he escape or did they let him go? If it was escape, then how? And if the other thing, why? (But wasn't that always the question of the day in this place?)
Everything seems muted here, dreamlike, and Steve stops more than once to turn and look behind him, catching a glimpse of everything from a Hydra trooper to Ultron himself, making his shoulders tense even as they fade right in front of his eyes. Ghosts, but not ones he can blame the hotel for. Steve lives with his fair share of 'em.
So when he finally reaches his room and sees Bucky sitting outside his door, he expects him to fade into nothingness too.
But he doesn't.]
Buck...
Where: Steve's room - 111
When: June 7th
What: Steve returns from a canon update to find Bucky sitting vigil outside his door.
Warnings: AOU spoilers, angst, tbd.
[The air goes from being too thin to being heavy and humid in a single breath. Steve gulps it anyway as he lifts his head to take a look around the boiler room. He knows this place... That doesn't do much for his confusion, not when it just brings up questions that he didn't have before.
It's been a year, but it all rushes back to him once he step outside that door. The hallways, the stairwells, his room. Steve remembers it all, along with the others who were trapped here with him. Some where from his world, some weren't, but he can't understand how he could just forget about them, like someone flipped a light switch inside his head and threw them all into darkness. Did he escape or did they let him go? If it was escape, then how? And if the other thing, why? (But wasn't that always the question of the day in this place?)
Everything seems muted here, dreamlike, and Steve stops more than once to turn and look behind him, catching a glimpse of everything from a Hydra trooper to Ultron himself, making his shoulders tense even as they fade right in front of his eyes. Ghosts, but not ones he can blame the hotel for. Steve lives with his fair share of 'em.
So when he finally reaches his room and sees Bucky sitting outside his door, he expects him to fade into nothingness too.
But he doesn't.]
Buck...
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Steve's absence is keenly felt; like there's a hole in the world and nothing, not even time, can come close to sealing it over. The hotel is all the gloomier for it, and while in the beginning Bucky feared him dead, the undisturbed door and the jarring lack of evidence speaks to the contrary.
Gone, then. Gone.
Did he escape or did they let him go?
Bucky hears footsteps and lifts his head, quietly curious. He knows the familiar cadence of it, would know it even in death, in his deepest thoughts, and he swallows hard, both guilty and relieved that he's here and alive, right back in the thrall of this hotel and its mystery owners. Steve looks older. Sadder; bittersweetness mixed with relief.
The Winter Soldier is unshaven. Tired, but he raises his head and something sparks in the depths of his dark, dark eyes when he looks at him. ]
You're late. [ He says dryly. ] Breakfast was five hours ago.
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He's moving again by the time Bucky starts talking about breakfast. Steve falls to his knees in front of the door, reaches for Bucky, gathering him up and crushing him against his chest like Steve's trying to push his literal heart back into it. Bucky's welcome to struggle, even throw a punch. He deserves it.]
I don't suppose you saved me any muffins?
[Steve tries to inject a smile into his voice, even though it trembles with half a dozen other emotions. Bucky's stubble feels like sandpaper against his skin, but Steve turns his face into it anyway.]
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He's gripping him so tightly that it hurts to breathe, Bucky's breath knocked out of him at the force of it, and he wraps his arms around him in turn, immediately concerned. This is a man in so obvious pain that Bucky's surprised no one noticed -- he doesn't struggle, and only shifts to hold him tight anyway, unable to help himself.
He feels solid, strong in his arms, and he bites his lip. ]
I did. Banana. [ And something makes his voice just a little hoarse. Probably the lack of air. ] I think you just crushed it.
[ Because Bucky always takes one for him, wrapped up carefully in a serviette, just in case Steve comes back to this hotel -- no, to him. ]
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It's the thought that counts. [Steve's still smiling, but his eyes are a little bit shiny. He has a question, and he dreads the answer.] How long was I out?
[Gone?]
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[ Has he been counting? Yes. It gives him something to focus on, something to hold on to. Also, no one's going to try an unshaven, angry bear in black leather and a fuck-off metal arm who wants muffins, just so you know.
Steve anchors him here, to the present, and Bucky can't help but reach out to touch his cheek, frowning at the dust, a thumb wiping it clean. What has he been doing? ]
How long did you think you were out?
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[Steve looks at Bucky's face for clarification, surprise written all over his own. He'll be grateful later, because it means that people, means that Bucky didn't have to miss him for very long.
Except he knows just how long days can actually feel when you miss someone.]
A year.
[He lowers his head, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. It's been a year, and this was how he had to find him again.]
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Steve's been looking for him a year. Bucky's face sobers, cupping his face in his hands and gently tipping it up to look at him. Steve's been lonely for a year, unhappy and sad, and what Bucky feels is a fraction of what he's likely felt.
Four days is so very small compared to three hundred and sixty five.
He leans in to brush his lips over his, a hand coming to cup the back of his head. His heart aches for him, hurts for the way he cannot protect someone he loves. ]
Next time, we go home together.
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Home, family. A lot of the other Avengers have that, but he doesn't have the slightest damn idea what those things are without Bucky. Steve swallows hard before nodding.]
Together. Hang on to me with everything you've got. I'll do the same.
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[ Bucky is quietly guilty, his grip on him even tighter, almost bruising, when he hears those words. He hadn't held on to him tight enough -- he allowed him to go off on his own.
He cups his face then, having released him after a few moments before he draws him close to press his forehead against his, quietly basking in the warmth of his presence, the fact that this important, crucial piece of himself is back where it belongs again.
Things make sense again. His thumb brushes over those lips, and he exhales quietly, before he leans forward to give him a slow, tentative kiss. Has a year changed him very much? Does he still remember this? ]
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[Steve hadn't held on to him tight enough, hadn't reached far enough, and that's how he lost him the first time. That's when the worst of it happened, because even if Steve still had to put that plane down in the ocean, you can be damn sure that Bucky Barnes would've been on it with him.
He's reorienting himself now, to the hotel, to Bucky, his home. Steve grows still when he feels the brush of his lips, like he thinks he might spook him if he moves too suddenly. It's not uncertainty. He remembers this, just the start of it before he left. Well, "restart" might be a more apt word. Steve kisses him back to ease the last of Bucky's fears, and what terrible things they must be to scare the Winter Soldier. But he lays them to rest before pulling away.]
You should move into my room so we can keep an eye on each other. It beats you hanging around outside the door all the time.
[Steve smirks gently at that. He knows him to well.]
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There are many things buried in the treacherous recesses of his mind, pieces of his past he can't reach no matter how much he tries, but he's far from an empty vessel. There are emotions that course within him, age-old and instinctive, and the touch of Steve's soft, willing lips against his makes his heart skip a beat.
Yes. He's missed this. He's wanted this.
Bucky pauses for a moment at his invitation, that knowing look, before he leans back to meet his eyes, unabashed at the fact that he'd just got caught for lurking outside his room. Still, he's curious. ]
How long have you known?
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[Steve amends, suddenly feeling like Bucky might be more disappointed than surprised to hear that, to know that he's no longer a ghost. But Steve's a match for him in a lot of ways, even more since he learned who the Winter Soldier actually is. Bucky was a lot more successful in lurking outside of his apartment back then.
He reaches for his hand and gives it a squeeze, mostly to remind and reassure himself that Bucky's real.]
You don't have to do that anymore.
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It's terrifying, the idea that he doesn't have to do it anymore, the idea that he finally has... this. Whatever this is. He squeezes his hand back before he gets up onto his feet, drawing Steve up with him, too. ]
Why didn't you say anything before?
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[Bucky thought it was something he needed to do, and Steve of all people can respect that.]
And I wasn't sure if something something about it would drive you away or not. That's the last thing that I wanted to do.