The Pen is Mightier! (penismightier) wrote in chaotic_library, @ 2015-07-20 23:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | bruce banner, bucky barnes, marvel, novel, pepper potts, r-rated, steve rogers, tony stark, yuuo, yuuo: marvel |
[Bucky Barnes; R] Puddle Of Grace: Chapter 3
Character/Series: Bucky Barnes; Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: R
Notes: No, I am not shipping them. Relax. Purely gen. Just two guys from a cultural era before society got weird about male affection.
Title: Puddle Of Grace- Chapter 3: Nowhere To Go
Author: yuuo
Word Count: 5685
Summary: With the cause of the pain gone, Bucky only really had to sleep off the lingering effects- mostly muscle fatigue -for a few hours.
and they don't understand
what they don't see
and they look through you
and they look past me
oh, you and I dancing slow
and we got nowhere to go
-Melissa Ethridge
With the cause of the pain gone, Bucky only really had to sleep off the lingering effects- mostly muscle fatigue -for a few hours. He hadn't argued with Steve when Steve dropped him into the bed in their guest room, just kicked off his boots and utility belt and laid down on top of the covers, curled up on his right side.
When he woke up, he felt groggy, as if waking up from not enough sleep. But the lingering pain was gone, and he didn't want to sleep all day, so he got up. Looking around the room, he realized just how big it was, even with a king bed dominating the center of it. Good, he could make Steve sleep on the bed while he took the floor, there'd be room.
It wasn't what he really wanted, but he didn't need to make Steve uncomfortable with what his brain thought he needed to avoid nightmares. Having Steve drag Bucky's bed into his room to share the space had been enough. He wasn't going to ask for more. He hadn't even asked for that much, but having been given it, he wasn't going to turn it down.
As he woke up more, he noticed that his hair was probably a mess and he had no brush to de-snarl it with, and his mouth tasted terrible from sleep. He wanted to brush his teeth, but there again lay the problem of no toiletries. He and Steve hadn't exactly packed for an extended stay at a friend's house.
At least there looked to be a private bathroom attached to the guest room.
In the bathroom, he discovered two brand new toothbrushes, both still in package, and a tube of toothpaste on one side of the sink counter, and a comb and a brush on the other side, set up just how their bathroom at home was. Someone must've run out and gotten the basics for them, and Steve had arranged them to Bucky's liking. He'd find out who all he had to thank later, for now, his hair needed brushing, his teeth needed brushing, and his bladder would really appreciate getting emptied.
Actually, he also really needed a shower. He smelled strongly of explosives and sweat.
If Steve could sneak in toiletries without waking him, maybe he'd snuck in some clean clothes too. A sweep of the room revealed nothing, but a search of the closet proved fruitful. Steve's uniform was already hanging up, along with Bucky's tactical vest, with his belt and face mask up on the shelf above the rod. Taking up the rest of closet were four pairs of clean jeans, two with shorter legs than the others, and six clean shirts that looked the right size. On the floor was a bag with other clothing needs, including two pairs of sweat pants and oversized t-shirts that could service as night clothes.
Good. He could shower and have something clean to change into. He tossed the bag with the sleep clothes up on the bed for later and headed back into the bathroom.
Once showered, which was something of a chore, the bathroom equipped with a tub and shower rather than the shower stall he was used to and vastly preferred for many reasons- one of which was a demon he wasn't ready to face yet- he dressed, and decided it was time to find where Steve was.
He knew that would probably plant him into the middle of an awkward social situation with at least one stranger. He was pretty sure that Tony would be downstairs, working on that new suit they were stuck waiting on, but that didn't account for Pepper.
There were voices just down the hall, one of whose was Steve's. He followed the sounds of people into what was the living room, if he remembered clearly from earlier.
Pepper and Steve both looked up when he stepped into the room. Bucky felt like he was the center of attention against his will and he didn't like it. Someone please say something so I don't have to.
"Feeling better, Buck?" Steve asked, immediately breaking that uncomfortable silence.
Bucky answered with a noise of confirmation, but not precisely with words.
"Come sit," Pepper said. "Consider that an official request from your hostess. Tony's downstairs, I'll make him come up for dinner, so you're stuck with me right now." She gave him a smile that he found immensely personable, rather like Mama's. If she was even half the woman Mama was, their stay might not actually be too bad.
Speaking. Right. Giving an answer usually required speaking. "You're Pepper?"
Way to state the obvious.
Her smile turned into an obviously amused grin. "I am. Tony's permanent keeper and occasional girlfriend."
He made a noise of acknowledgement and looked at Steve. "Steve needs the same. I'm a decent substitute."
Steve covered his face with his hands while Pepper laughed. "Okay, I said this before, but he is the only one that gets away with that joke."
"Tony's gonna make it anyway," Pepper warned him.
"Tony might find himself beaned upside the head for it," Steve said, then looked at Bucky and pointed at the couch next to him. "Come sit. You make me nervous when you stand like you're some kind of Secret Service bodyguard."
Bucky gave him a bland look, but went to sit down anyway. "I'm not going to do anything."
"I remember how you were as a kid, it's a valid fear."
Pepper grinned at them. "It's exciting, getting to see how the two biggest war heroes of the twentieth century interact just like normal people. It's definitely not the part I learned in history class."
Bucky couldn't tell how much of that was teasing, and how much of that was dead serious. In a deliberately slow fashion, Bucky turned his head to look at Steve, wanting to ask if this was how Steve normally felt around his modern friends. Steve just gave Pepper a look that said she was lucky he liked her. "You get used to this," he said in answer to Bucky's unspoken question.
"Sorry," Pepper said, although she seemed more excited than sorry. "My final paper in high school history class was on you, so this is kinda cool for me, getting to meet a childhood hero."
Bucky stared. He wasn't sure he'd heard that right. "I'm the subject of high school history papers?"
"Well, you were of mine," Pepper said. "And I really doubt I was the only kid in this country since the end of World War II that did a paper on you. All the old comics, the news footage, you were all part of that. You're part of the Captain America story." She shrugged. "Everyone always did their reports on Steve, but I admired your loyalty in the stories, so I wanted to do mine on you." She grinned. "Just so you know, I aced it."
Bucky didn't feel he should be admired for loyalty when he'd tried to beat Steve's face in, but he didn't want to really go there, not with himself, not with Steve, and most definitely not with someone who was almost a stranger who apparently had been an admirer. "I'd be disappointed if you hadn't."
There, that was safe to say, right?
Something about the way he said that must've betrayed his thoughts- when did everyone start being able to read him? -because Pepper's expression turned a bit more solemn as she said "don't worry, you might not remember, you were in a lot of pain, but I was down there. I heard. I don't think you should blame yourself for anything Hydra made you do. That wasn't you." She looked at Steve, a fond smile on her face. "You nearly got yourself killed taking a hit for Steve. That tells me you've still got that loyalty."
Steve put his arm on Bucky's shoulder, using it as an armrest the way he did whenever he wanted to remind Bucky that he was now the taller one because he was a jackass. "He likes me too much to let someone else hurt me. Only he gets to do that."
Bucky could tell that Steve was trying to make interacting with Pepper as normal for Bucky as interacting with just the two of them was. But it just made him feel awkward, so he didn't give one of his usual responses, just shot him a glare before looking off somewhere over Pepper's shoulder.
Pepper moved her head, getting more directly into his line of sight again. "My face is a few inches to the right from there."
Bucky refocused his eyes on her, not sure how to respond. He didn't know her, he wasn't even used to talking around other people anymore. While he knew how to act, he was pretty sure he couldn't actually do it, not anymore, not yet. "Sorry."
"No no, it's okay," Pepper said, giving him that smile from earlier. "Just wondering if you're still tired. You were spacing out a bit."
Bucky's skin crawled from the sensation of Steve staring at him, and he turned his head just a few degrees towards Steve, but refused to meet his gaze. Steve was pushing; he was supposed to push, at least a little, but it didn't feel like something he was ready for. Bucky didn't want to do it, not then, but... well, if not then, when? They weren't in public, they were in a private home with time to at least try to learn to socialize again, with people Steve trusted.
People Steve was lying to, but that was another matter to be dealt with later.
"Sorry," he said again, looking down at his mismatched hands, flexing the left one slightly. It was a weapon, and weapons didn't belong in a social setting. "I don't know what your high school report said, but I'm ... I'm not exactly good at talking to people like I was back then."
"That's fine," Pepper said. "I understand. I wouldn't be terribly social with other people in your shoes either." There were the sounds of her shifting in her chair, and Bucky looked up to see her crossing her legs under her, the giant fluffy bucket chair she was in big enough for the freedom of movement. "But to restate something said earlier, you're safe here. Nobody's going to hurt you, nobody's going to use what happened to you against you. And if you don't want to talk, that's fine too. I can talk to Steve. But stick around, listen in." She grinned, tilting her head forward a bit. "You might find that socializing with me isn't so hard."
Bucky practically upended his brain, looking for an appropriate response. But since he couldn't really read her tone or her intentions, he had no idea how to respond.
So he simply didn't.
Pepper didn't seem deterred by his silence. "And I don't entirely know how social conventions were back in your time, but if there's any issue about chatting up a woman without her significant other present, trust me when I say chat away." Her expression changed to one of adoring exasperation as she glanced behind her towards the stairs to the basement. "It's never stopped Tony. Although with him, it now stops at merely chatting. He knows better."
"Pepper Potts, the miracle worker," Steve said, motioning towards her for emphasis. "Settled down a Stark man."
That statement seemed to please Pepper. She sat up taller, hands folded on her ankles in front of her. "Unto each generation, a chosen one is born."
Helluva thing to be chosen for.
"Okay, that's a reference to something," Steve said. "Wanna catch the old guys up on this?"
"What, catch you up on my college days?" Pepper said. Her smile was disarming, pleasant and rather catching. Bucky found it easier to relax around her now than he had earlier, when her attention was focused solely on him. She'd simply made him part of the conversation, even without his participation.
"I don't think we need a blow-by-blow," Steve said. "Just what show is that from?"
"Buffy: The Vampire Slayer," Pepper said. "It started in the late nineties, just as I was going into college. Some of it's dated, but some of the snark remains strong."
That sounded familiar, and apparently to Steve as well, because a look of recognition crossed his face. "Oh, okay, yeah, I've heard some of the jokes. Joss Whedon, right?" He looked at Bucky, and Bucky wasn't sure why, not at first.
Oh.
Either Steve was turning to Bucky to be his internet nerd source, or he was trying too hard to include him. He flexed his left hand, trying to put away the weapon and be the friend. Or at least the person. "He's a nerd god, if social media is to be believed."
There. The words of Bucky, Steve's friend, and not the tight-lipped, complete psychotic mess of a partner that Steve had begged his friends a favor for. It wasn't a huge victory, but it was something.
"That's what I've heard," Pepper said. "If it wasn't secure before, it's been pretty much set in stone, at least according to People Magazine, with a series of comic book-based movies he directed a while back. I didn't see them personally, but the merchandising was everywhere."
"Comic books. Something I'm glad to see is still in the mainstream," Steve said. "My mom didn't like them, thought I could spend my time on better things, and we didn't really have the extra money for them anyway. Fortunately, I could read them when I was visiting Bucky and his family. One of his brothers collected them."
"Tony has some comic books," Pepper said. "Mint-condition, original print, some almost as old as he is. He considers it a good investment."
Steve raised his eyebrows, tilting his head forward. "Pepper. Tony has more money than China. Why does he need to invest in comic books?"
"We're discussing a man who felt a giant stuffed toy rabbit was an appropriate Christmas gift for me one year simply because it existed and he could buy it. You have to ask?"
Bucky had to resist the urge to tell Steve that he made such interesting friends. He also wanted to ask how that rabbit fit through the door, but the way Pepper said that made him think it probably didn't.
Steve shook his head. "You know, if he weren't obviously such a genius, I'd have to say that he had more money than brains, but it might just be common sense he's lacking."
Bucky turned his head to look at Steve with an incredulous expression. He wasn't even sidetracked by Pepper saying that Tony was certainly capable of being as dumb as bricks. Steve had just accused someone of not having common sense. Steve. There were so many ways the man had no common sense.
Steve caught the look and pointed a finger at him. "You have no room to talk."
"You jumped on a grenade," Bucky said in that same slow and deliberate manner, as if talking to someone slow on the uptake and if he just spoke at the right speed, it might sink in.
"I thought it was gonna hurt someone!" Steve protested. "It was a dud anyway, and you've already burned my ears off on this issue."
"That is far from your only stellar example of idiocy."
Pepper interjected at that point. "Didn't you just play racquetball with one of those?"
While Steve gave him a smug look that he'd had perfected since they were small children, Bucky spared him a glare before looking at Pepper. "My arm can handle the blast, his tiny body would've been in little pieces all over the place." Then he shot Steve another dirty look. "And I was actually protecting someone who mattered."
He knew that might not have been the best subject to bring up around someone he still counted as a stranger, but then, if they all wanted for Bucky to become part of their circle of friends, they were going to have to get used to his fucked up morals.
As expected, Steve took in a deep breath before putting his hand on Bucky's shoulder, not quite a 'there there' gesture, more of a 'I don't like it but I accept it.' If Bucky ever changed his mind on that matter, it was going to take a long time to get there.
Pepper to the rescue. "Even so, it's rather disconcerting to know that Tony has friends with similar brains."
"Oh, Pepper, you knew that already," Steve said, not dropping his hand. "Or did you forget about something called New York?"
Pepper groaned, leaning back into her chair with a hand theatrically over her eyes. "Don't remind me." She looked at Bucky. "Have you been told this story?"
"I read the news reports."
"Not quite enough," Pepper said. "You're familiar with the Iron Man suits?"
"I know what the public knows." Which was actually quite a lot, given that SHIELD had records on it that went public, thank you Romanov. But he had a feeling that what he knew wasn't going to be enough for this story.
"His suits run on the arc reactors," she said. "Have you heard of them?"
Bucky nodded. "I don't know the technical details."
"I don't either," Pepper said. "So don't feel bad. But Tony uses them to power his suits. He took a low-on-power suit up into an enemy dimension through a portal carrying a live nuke."
That sounded exactly like something Steve would do, and Bucky frowned, wondering how he was suddenly supposed to keep up with two assholes that did shit like that. "We're all dumb here, aren't we?"
Pepper held up her hands, clearly wanting nothing to do with that title. "As long as nobody dies and I don't have to put my hand into anyone's chest cavity again, we're good, I suppose."
Bucky was forced to momentarily shut his brain down, because it just didn't want to parse what Pepper had just said. Surely that was not what it sounded like. People didn't have holes in their chest cavities big enough for a human hand, not even a smaller woman's hand. Unless they were dead. Maybe she was talking about someone who was dead.
He decided that had to be it.
"He must've had you helping with the arc reactor," Steve said, moving his arms to rest them on the back of the couch.
"He had me help change the original out with a stronger one," Pepper said.
Bucky suddenly found himself completely lost. He looked between them, hoping one would offer an explanation, because it was obvious that the chest cavity she'd reached into was Tony's and definitely not a dead person.
"We lost you, didn't we?" Pepper asked.
Yes. Thank you for noticing. He nodded slowly.
"Welcome to my life the first couple years after I was found," Steve said. He motioned to Pepper. "He's her boyfriend, I'll let her explain this one."
"Actually, it's not a bad idea to try to catch him up on all the Avengers lore," Pepper said. "You're the only one he's familiar with, and he's missed a couple years with you, and everything with the rest of us."
Oh, story time. Bucky almost pulled his feet up onto the couch to cross them underneath him until he remembered that he had his boots on, and they were rather dusty and probably not furniture appropriate. Oh well. Instead, he just leaned forward a bit, his elbows resting on his knees, ready to listen intently.
Steve pointed at him, looking at Pepper. "That's Bucky for 'I approve of this plan.' I'll let you start off, Tony's the one that was first approached about the Avengers Initiative."
"Yes, but you were the first Avenger," Pepper pointed out.
"And as you said, he already knows all that part of my history in this group. Tony was the first one Nick approached, you start."
Pepper sighed with a dramatic flair. "Well, okay, but we don't tell Tony that his girlfriend finds him an interesting subject to talk about. It might go to his head." There was that fond sarcasm that only a smartass who loved someone could manage.
Steve laughed. "Don't worry, my lips are sealed and his-" he nodded in Bucky's direction "-are pretty much permanently stitched shut."
That wasn't really true, Bucky spoke to Steve, far more now than he had when he first came home, but Steve was right in that he didn't talk around anyone else ever. He let it slide.
It took a surprisingly long time to catch him up. There was a good decade or so history, starting with Bruce's experiment-gone-wrong and, to- as far as anyone knew- the destruction of SHIELD. Pepper had obviously done some self-editing when she got to the most recent excitement in her and Tony's part of the story. Bucky decided that as long as she didn't pry into what happened to bring him back home, he wouldn't pry at whatever she wasn't saying.
"Hopefully, it'll stay quiet for awhile," Pepper said once they'd gotten to 'the end'. "Although I know by saying that, I just cursed us all."
"Thank you, I'll be sure to blame you when something bad happens," Steve said.
"I can own that," Pepper said, then glanced at her watch. "Oh god, time went fast. JARVIS, let Tony know that it's dinner time, and he has thirty minutes to get to a stop point to come join us for food."
"Of course, Miss Potts."
Pepper didn't move to get up to go make that food or call for it or anything, sitting still with her head tilted to the side slightly, as listening for something.
"Mister Stark says he will eat later," JARVIS said after a few seconds.
Pepper nodded once, clearly expecting that answer. "Tell him that he's not allowed to live on Red Bulls and No-Doze anymore. He comes up for dinner, or I come down and take away his toys."
Another moment of silence, followed by "Mister Stark says that is unfair, but you have won. He will be up in thirty minutes."
"That's better," Pepper said, getting up. "Excuse me, guys, but I have to go cook if we want to eat tonight."
"You want help?" Steve asked, and Bucky had a feeling he might get volunteered if she answered that she did.
Thankfully for Bucky's nerves, she shook her head. "No, guests don't do the cooking around here," she said. She motioned to the TV. "You're welcome to turn something on if you want."
"Thanks, Pepper," Steve said. "Just call us if you want help."
She smiled. "I'll call you when the food is done so you can eat it." She turned and headed out of the room, leaving Steve and Bucky and the TV alone.
Bucky looked over at Steve. "So did I pass your social test?"
"You didn't do bad," Steve said, which wasn't really a yes, but not precisely a no, either. And he didn't have to say it like someone proud of a little kid for trying really hard to play a band instrument and only having marginal success.
"You should be grateful you got anything." He didn't give Steve time to do more than make an expression like he was going to say something that might just piss Bucky off. He didn't know what, but there was probably something. "I'm trying, okay? I'm doing better than I did with Sam, aren't I?"
Steve's expression went from placating to acceptance. "You are. If you're not careful, you'll end up with a couple friends out of this."
Bucky didn't answer. He didn't want Steve to know that he really didn't want any other friends. Having friends meant more people who knew what was done to him, things that brought up all sorts of negative emotions. It meant more people who might look at him with pity, or get frustrated with his abrupt departures from social situations. More people he'd have to hide from seeing the effects of what Hydra did.
His sickening display over the chair was more than enough for them to have seen, but at least he could argue that most of that was due to the pain. They probably wouldn't believe him, or at least Steve wouldn't, but he could throw up that smoke screen.
"I really wish you'd tell me what's bothering you," Steve said. "I know something's going through your head, and you're not going to tell me."
"I'm trying," Bucky repeated through clenched teeth. He didn't want to have this argument again, didn't want it at home, and definitely not here, where there were other people Bucky wasn't actually ready to have in his life.
With a sigh, Steve gripped the back of Bucky's neck, giving him back the comfort of human contact. "All right. I'm not going to make you."
Not yet, anyway, Bucky heard that unspoken part. He'd been dodging most of Steve's attempts at getting him to talk about the things actually bothering him for the last five months, but sooner or later, Steve was going to manage to catch him at just the right time for Bucky to start babbling things at him in the middle of an episode.
If Bucky were a praying man, he'd be praying that Steve would at least have the mercy to not push him until they got home and Pepper and Tony weren't around anymore.
After dinner was a few hours of more socialization, although it was more accompanied by the TV than direct interaction. It helped his nerves from winding up tighter, but it didn't help relax them.
Pepper had declared bedtime for her and Tony, entirely without input from Tony, and while she'd offered to let Steve and Bucky stay up with the TV, they both declined. It'd been a long damn day.
That left them in their bedroom, the bag with the sleepwear on a single king-sized bed that Bucky thought was comfortable enough, but he'd already planned on sleeping on the floor.
"Which side of the bed do you want?" Steve asked.
"Neither," Bucky said, walking over to the bed and digging around in the bag. "I'm sleeping on the floor."
"No, you're not," Steve said, tone firm and promising a full-blown argument if Bucky didn't give him his way.
Bucky finally pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that would be too chilly to wear anywhere but under the covers. He tossed the bag to Steve for him to find his own clothes. "Steve. I am sleeping on the floor. I did it all the time back in DC."
Steve scowled at him, walking over and dropping the bag on the bed. "Yeah, I remember how little sleep you got when you did that too." He searched the bag. "If sharing a bed is that awkward, I'll take the floor."
"Oh sure, make it sound like it's my fault," Bucky said as he started to change clothes. "I'm not going to make you feel uncomfortable when I can sleep on the floor. I'd be a bad boyfriend if I did."
"You know, if you're going to run by that joke, you just gave wonderful incentive as to why we should share," Steve said, pulling out the other pair of sweat pants that were slightly longer in the leg than the pair Bucky was pulling on. "However, since I don't want my brain to go down that path for fear of my sanity, I'm going to point out that I have not had one problem since you came home doing whatever I had to to help you feel better. I don't mind sharing the bedroom; it was my idea to begin with. I don't understand why that helped, but it did, and it doesn't bother me to do it. And if you're wanting to take the floor for my sake, don't. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before."
Bucky drew in a deep breath, holding it while he counted to five in three different languages, before exhaling in a rush of air. "You know, despite our jokes, we're not actually supposed to be sharing a bed unless we have no choice." He knew that would go over like Titanic; Steve and Bucky had never cared about the present day's cultural hang ups over platonic affection between male friends.
"That's awful modern of you," Steve said. "Why would you even make that argument?" Yeah, that was what Bucky had expected him to say. "A few days, or even a week, of sharing a bed so big we probably wouldn't even notice we were sharing, is really not that big of a deal."
Bucky couldn't even get a chance to open his mouth in protest, before Steve kept going. "Bucky. Listen to me. I don't want you sleeping on the floor, and I don't want you thinking you have to for my comfort. We're family. If there were two beds, I would be telling you to sleep in your own bed. But there's one bed, it's big enough for us to have plenty of room so you won't kick me in your sleep. I'm fine with it. I don't see why you aren't."
Bucky didn't want to admit why. Admitting it to himself had been hard enough, he wasn't sure he could admit to Steve why he was craving the safety of being close by sharing the bed. The nightmares would be easier to dismiss, maybe even easier to avoid.
"It's not strange to you?" he asked, one last attempt at getting Steve to see his side without him able to actually say what his side was.
"No," Steve said, shaking his head firmly. "I don't see how it's any different from the stunt you pulled on a regular basis to get me sleeping in a bed that wasn't terrible like my own was."
"That wasn't much of a trick when you knew what I was doing," Bucky pointed out. "And that is completely different, you're not trying to take care of someone with a bad back like yours was."
Steve dropped the bag in the general direction of the closet and sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's not different, because I say so. I can tell something about it's bothering you. If the best thing I can do to help you get past something that Hydra did to you is share a bed with you for a few nights while we stay with friends, I'll do it. Besides," there he gave Bucky a stern look, "you spent several hours of the last twenty-four in shock from mechanical nerve damage. If you can trick me over a bad back, I can do the same to you for even just one night over your injury."
With a noise of frustration, Bucky sat down next to him. "Fine. But I still think it was different when I did it because of your back. I slept off the shock earlier."
"No, it's not." Steve sounded frustrated by that point. "There's something more going through your head, and I think some of it is a result of earlier. Just because the condition isn't apparent doesn't lessen its need to be taken care of. I don't know what they did that caused this, but I want to help fix it."
Bucky tapped his finger in agitation on his left knee, trying to formulate a response that Steve really did deserve at this point. But when he thought about actually trying to put into words what they did in a way that the clinical project files couldn't convey, his brain shut down and he developed psychological lockjaw. "I'm trying," was all he could manage, just repeating himself from earlier. It sounded rather empty.
Steve put his arm around Bucky's shoulders. "I know you are, Buck. I'm not trying to be impatient. I just want to help. So let me help a little bit by making you sleep on the bed. Let me do that much, please."
"All right, you win. It was a dumb argument anyway." Bucky glanced back over his shoulder once Steve and taken his arm back. He slept on his right side, and would not normally want to be on the side of the bed that had him facing Steve, but the bed was big enough that sleeping there would not force them to spoon so they both fit. Good. Sharing a bed with an annoying little brother for a few days wasn't all that strange to him, but having to cuddle just to fit was going too far. "Pick a side then."
"I'll take this side and make you walk around the bed," Steve said like a jackass.
"I'm smothering you in your sleep," Bucky said, standing.
While Bucky made the trip around the end of the bed to the other side, Steve half stood and yanked the covers down for him to settle in. "What, you take a hit from a grenade for me, but you'll threaten me just for picking a side of the bed for you to sleep in?"
"You're a punk," Bucky said, pulling down the covers on his side of the bed. "Go to sleep."
"Jerk."
Once they were settled, Steve sounded like he'd drifted off fairly quickly, his breath becoming noticeably even, steady. The sound of not being alone while trying to sleep was comforting. He still had never told Steve why he needed that, wasn't sure he'd be able to get it from his head to his mouth. Maybe someday. Not yet.
He glanced backwards over his shoulder, making the irrational voice in his head shut up by making sure that Steve was actually there. See? He's there. Shut up.
For once, the voice listened to him.