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

[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.]

My good looks.

[ He shoves at Bucky gently, and just hums contentedly at Bucky ruffling his hair, settling on the grass next to him. This sketch is never getting finished and they should probably troop back for breakfast in the mess, but he can't be bothered. ]

[He gives a short laugh at that and shakes his head.]

Yeah. You’re prettier than some of the dames I took out dancin’, that's for sure.

[And now he doesn’t want to move because this is the closest he’s been to hugging Steve. He wants to finish it, pull Steve into his arms and press him to his chest like he can melt into the annoying shit he calls his best guy, but he doesn’t have another arm to do it with.

He leans in closer, pressing his temple to Steve’s as his hand drops from Steve’s hair.]

I miss us.

[He says it flatly, like he doesn’t believe it exists anymore, but he knows it’s there because they’re here, and Steve cleaned up his fop like it was nothing.]

I miss us so goddamn much, Steve—Christ.

[He knows he shouldn’t be saying this now, before they have to go in and face everyone else, but he can’t help it anymore. He’s tired. He just wants to breathe.]

[ He doesn't hesitate. Ain't much of it to be doin', not where Bucky's concerned. Steve draws him into a tight hug, mumbles something soft in his ear, akin to all the calm little nothings Bucky used to say when Steve was delirious. All the gentleness he showed — 'course, Steve hated it then. The best guy a fella could never know, stuck at the bedside of a kid who wasn't going to make it to eighteen. ]

It's okay.

[ He runs his fingers through Bucky's hair, gently. ]

I know. It's okay.

[The air feels like it’s being ripped from his lungs. He presses harder into Steve, just the way Steve used to when he couldn’t make sense of things but only knew that Bucky was there and that he wanted Bucky. He draws Steve as close as he can with his single arm and tries to keep his breath steady while his nerves dance anxiously at how much he feels but doesn’t know how to express anymore. His mind has trouble keeping up, so his eyes squeeze shut to focus on just breathing.

Gradually, Steve’s gentle coaxing eases him down. Then, there’s only guilt left.]

Shit— sorry— I shouldn’t— I can’t do this to you—fuck—it’s damn unfair, and I don’t wanna ruin things.

[It was going so good and then you had to fuck it up, Barnes. Fucking typical.]

You ain't.

[ His breathing slows, knowing Bucky's will synchronise. It's an old trick of Buck's borrowed for now. Steve only has his example to go from when it comes to worryin' about other folk. He isn't the kind to sit at someone's bedside. He would for Bucky, but even that feels something he doesn't know how to do. ]

[ A voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Natasha says he might want to work on that. ]

We just need a little time, that's all, pal.

[He’s having trouble catching his breath until he hears Steve taking noticeable, slow breaths of his own. As soon as he recognizes the intent, he starts matching his breaths to Steve’s. His heart clenches briefly from the sudden change, but gradually Bucky feels control return and, along with it, the air Steve gives him. He takes a few seconds before he tries speaking again.]

Y- Yeah. [Croaked. He clears his throat and tries again.] Yeah. Time.

[It was never on their side though. They’d lost how many years? Geeze...]

I ain’t leavin’ you on a damn beach again, that’s for sure.

[He chuckles quietly, trying to lighten the mood.]

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