lefthandfree | [meme] open post / picture prompt catch-all

[A bit of breath escapes him, and his nerves tingle from the praise. Steve always knows the right words. It’s a gift and a curse bundled together, something the makes his heart swell but means he’ll do anything Steve asks him to. He knows better, but he grips on to it tightly, not wanting to let go.

He eyes Steve’s beaming grin. He can’t help but match it with his own.]

Well, I’ll give it a shot, if you think I’ve got it in me.

[He says it like he would in the old days, knowing the Steve knows just as well as him that he’s only saying it ’cause he wants to hear Steve tell him he can do anything, that he’s good and worth something. It feels so desperate now, but time never changed what Steve’s thoughts meant to him.]

I'd like that.

[ If only because seeing he's still capable of whatever he puts his mind to might be good for Buck. He can manage with one arm — they both know the inside and out of that word. Managing. It'd be nice to have something that wasn't wired into his body without care for his long-term health. They can do anything in that lab; Steve's overheard them discussing printing organs from their 3D printer. They could probably have a new arm in under an hour. ]

[He nods, smile weakening as he looks back to the sky.]

I’ll do it.

[He says it to remind himself he will, and to make the promise more real. He never wants to leave Steve hanging.

The sun’s almost up proper, but he doesn’t want to move. He wants to keep Steve at his chest and feel every little move his best friend makes. It hurts that time moves so quickly when it’s just them.]

You got any plans yourself? I hear Sam's been jogging solo the last couple of days.

[It’s the nicest way to ask, but Bucky wants to make sure things are still solid between the two of them too. Steve needs more than just Bucky. Someone better. Someone who isn’t a ghost.]

[ Sun's almost up. They're shaded from the rays directly by the trees, but light is filtering through the branches. ]

I thought about askin' if there was any work around.

[ He likes — needs — to keep busy. Twiddlin' thumbs waiting for the next crisis was never his style, and even here in Wakanda it doesn't feel right to be just passing the days doing nothing in return for people risking and doing so much to protect them. Sam volunteers and so does Wanda, and he knows Buck would want him out there doing what he feels good about. ]

[ Steve would never see it as being trapped inside with Buck. There is no cause less worthy than one's friends. ]

Just somethin' like construction. I'd stick out, but — what d'ya think?

Edited (words) 2016-08-15 05:31 (UTC)

[He figures it’s something like that, and the confirmation makes Bucky smile properly again. Steve has always been a doer, unable to lie in bed sick if he can sit up ’cause his hands are too fidgety, and he wants to draw. It’s definitely an endearing trait when it’s not annoying.

He remembers arguing with Steve so many times about how Steve can’t come with him to the docks or the scrapyard, how his skills are better put to use with other things. Back then, Steve had everything to prove and too much to lose. ~~So much even for Bucky to lose.~~ ‘What do you want me to do, collect scrap metal in my little, red wagon?’ Yes, because it means Steve will live even if Bucky can’t.

But now it’s different. It’s so different, and it’s still jarring that Steve is who he is now and not the same guy Bucky grew up trying his damned best to protect. While he loves that Steve has found his place, he hates that they also gave him every single chance to die.

At least today isn’t the day Steve’s askin’ Bucky if it’s okay for him to do that.]

I think you’d do swell, pal. You were always good with your hands. Hell, you fixed our cabinets enough times while I was out. They’d be damn lucky to get someone like you helpin’ ’em.

[ He put his mind to use doing other things. Buck working long hours meant he wouldn't have time or energy to cook or clean, so Steve handled that. He had a steady job bagging produce, when Buck wasn't nagging at him to go to art school. Even then, Buck thought the world of him. Steve is closing his hands over that cautiously now, because it means something he's not so sure about. ]

All right. I'll ask around.

[ It does mean less time with Buck. Steve elbows him in the side playfully. ]

Why don't you come jogging with us in the morning?

[ Yeah, things are okay between him and Sam. Steve's made sure his ma and sister know he's all right, or there'll be a galvanising social movement (#wheresfalcon) which might mean people getting hurt when they don't have to be. It'd be nice to have Buck around with them in the morning runs, too; he knows Sam would like the opportunity to know him better. Steve might roll his eyes at their sniping, but it's all in good fun, and besides, Buck needs Sam. Someone who's free to form his own impressions and takes him as he is. Not Steve, who's holding both their memories as well as what they are now. He's not one for letting go.]

[While he’s glad Steve is going to venture out, he does feel rather envious that he can’t go with him. It brings up so many regrets in his mind that Bucky has to shove it all down to keep from needing a moment. He can’t ruin this right now. He’s got Steve.]

Jogging? It’s bad enough they make me do it on a treadmill for half an hour for the damn physical.

[He gripes, but it really doesn’t bother him. He just needs something to fill the air while he tries to clear his head. It takes him a few extra seconds to get there, but he does and hopes silently it’s not jarring enough that Steve will get all worried about it.]

...sure, I’ll come. Just didn’t want to intrude on anything without your say so.

[ You would never. Steve opens his mouth to say it, then, thoughtful, and quietly, ]

I'll ask Sam.

[ Let Bucky be nowhere he's not wanted, and there'll be time to build the kind of belonging. Still getting used to that — sure the JCTC's after them but Steve figures it'll be a little while before anyone knows they have a safe haven here. ]

[There’s some relief in that. He knows Steve will say yes to everything when it comes to him, but his concern is out of respect for both parties, not just Steve.]

Thanks, kid.

[He squeezes Steve’s shoulder gently, the current equivalent to a pat on the shoulder with the way they're laying.]

And even if he says no, we’ve got plenty of other things we can do. There’s all those board games in the lounge.

[Just a reminder. In case Steve has already become dead set on wanting Bucky along, ’cause he doesn’t want to make Steve think he doesn’t want to hang out with him and Sam. Sam’s good. Bucky likes Sam. He’s just not Steve, and Steve is the best.]

And there's Casablanca.

[ Which is not something Steve has a particular need to do, honestly, he just flashes Buck a shit-eating grin. ]

[He’s not the keenest on rewatching Casablanca if a personal choice is involved, but he’s there if Steve wants to go down memory lane.

And there’s also the fact that maybe—just maybe—he can actually talk to Steve this time about why he went so quiet before, that it brought up so many thoughts that he didn’t know how to put into words, especially to his dearest friend that already carried more than was necessary.

Actually, now that he's thinking about it, that's mildly terrifying.]

Yeah. You rewatched Wizard of Oz yet?

[ Steve hums in the affirmative as he sits up, reaching for the sketchbook and flipping it open to the half-finished drawing. He rests his palm flat over Buck's heart, briefly. ]

Don't go anywhere.

[Instinctively, he wants to rise—ask if he said something wrong—but Steve’s hand reassures him, and he settles back down the inch that his head had raised in concern.]

Guess that’s out, then. [Idly, as he watches Steve with an intense curiosity that’s likely familiar.]

City Lights?

[Nothing like a little Chaplin to grease Bucky’s smile.]

[ Playfully, ]

I thought we were stargazing.

[ He brings his knees up, tilts the page so Bucky can see the sketch as it forms. Steve just has the details of his face and clothes left, anyway. ]

You choose, Buck. I ain't fussy.

[The corner of his lips quirks upward at that.]

You know what I meant, punk.

[His eyes watch Steve’s hands at work, always so meticulous and aware. Steve’s on a whole other level of talented, and Bucky loves seeing the world Steve sees with whatever he puts on the page. It's much more pleasant than some of the hardness of reality.]

...but I ain’t picky either. I just wanna watch somethin’ with my best guy that we can both gab on later.

[Like the old days, when they'd stay up and talk and not regret in the morning.]

[ The smile he has on flickers briefly to an earnestness Steve hasn't indulged in a long time. That's what it is: indulgence. He's only ever been a soldier in this brave new world, and the only reason he has his sketchbook with him is because Buck found an empty one somewhere and pressed it into his hands. He's not so sure this piece of him fits so well anymore. Artistry is wasted on a battlefield. ]

Yeah?

[ His pencil stops on the page as Steve taps it in thought. ]

I have a list in my notebook, you can look over it when we're in the lab. Somethin' animated might be swell.

[While the end results are always still great, the hesitation Bucky sees isn’t so good, but he thinks there’s progress with Steve gettin’ used to drawing again, and he likes that there is. He could tell Steve had stopped, and that had always been his outlet before. It’s why he finds a blank book as soon as he can and makes Steve start again. Especially since he knows he can’t always be there for Steve, he wants Steve to have this again, at least for himself. The payoff is still good, and Bucky reminds himself to write in his new notebook every day because he sees Steve trying too.]

Stevie, I’ve seen your list, but it ain’t got it said anywhere what’s animated or what’s music or history or somethin’ else.

Why don’t I just let you pick? You only let me pick these days, and that’s not fair to ya.

[More like completely unfair because he knows what Steve’s tryin’ to do with it, but Bucky isn’t gonna make a stink about it since Steve is the only one that cares like that anyway.]

[ Hard to draw when the muse was gone. Bucky was his favourite subject; Steve always used to complain the man couldn't sit still. Even in the War, he was doing something with his hands. ]

[ His mouth thins into an unhappy line. Steve rubs at his jaw, then, softly, ]

Make sure it's somethin' you want, all right? You don't gotta just for me.

[He had held back before, but this time he genuinely sighs and presses his hand to Steve’s leg. It’s that same old concern that Steve always has, so Bucky needs to knock up his reply a notch with the old familiar,]

You know I’ll enjoy anything you like. I just wanna see you happy ’s all.

[It’s something of a low blow—was back then too—but it has to be said at some point because as much as things aren’t the same, they’re still the same, and Bucky wants Steve to remember that he loves everything as long as Steve’s with him. If this is the only way to hammer it into that noodle of his, then Bucky's gonna take it.]

[ It's a low blow. Steve doesn't even know what that means anymore, he had a place in the War, but it was only bearable because they were there, together. Bucky on his left always means the world is less cruel, and worth seeing for what good it possesses. His hand drops, brushing over Bucky's wrist. Yeah, he's real. ]

[ He inhales slowly. It's been almost five years since his last asthma attack. Roughly, ]

Back at ya, buddy.

[Oh, this shit... You little...]

Don’t make me give you a noogie, Rogers. ’Cause I fuckin’ will, pal. The whole nine yards, so it’ll smart til next week.

[He says it grinning because even even with all this baggage, it’s one of the purest things he feels about Steve, how much he loves the guy but also can’t stand his bullshit sometimes.]

I can’t be happy unless you are, and I’m sayin’ we start with you first. Ain’t havin’ it any other way, kid.

Will it?

[ Never could resist a dare like that, and he would never say no to playfulness from the only person who ever extended it to him in the old days. Steve ducks his head, the lines of him soften. Honesty is never the problem, it's straightforwardness. What right's he got to put his shit on Bucky? None at all. ]

[Oh. Now that’s done it. There’s a second’s pause as he gives Steve a Look that warns him he’s fuckin’ asked for it before he sits up smoothly and grapples Steve to the ground.

...

And then that’s as far as he gets because he was so taken by the instinct to show Steve up, he completely forgot that he only has one arm, and it Fuckin’ Sucks because now he’s got Steve pinned, and he can’t noogie him properly, and the bad feelings swallow up everything that was perfect just seconds before.

He breaths out shakily.]

Shit. [He says it too himself and draws back from Steve anxiously, plastering on a smile and laughing weakly.]

Guess I didn’t think that through so good.

[ He's smiling helplessly just as Buck moves, knowing what's coming next and makes no effort to resist. They realise the missing arm too late, but Steve chases after him to close the distance. ]

Hey.

[ He tucks himself against Bucky's side. He used to curl up like this often, and nudges Bucky's chin gently. He can use his good hand. Steve will stay perfectly still. ]

[Fuck, he doesn’t deserve Steve. How can he when he fucks up so much? Why is Steve such a perfect goddamn human?

He aches as he chuckles weakly, his throat clamming up a bit and making it rasp. He adjusts his arm to get it right this time, but the fever’s gone, and the rub of his knuckles is more affectionate than punishing.]

You’re such a shit, Stevie.

[There’s no heat in it. It’s all fond and feeling.]

God knows why I put up with you.

[His fingers splay, and Bucky starts running his fingers through that damn hair he hasn’t felt in his hands in ages. He wants to cry because it’s as soft and real as it always was, but he can’t, and he doesn’t know which is worse.]

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