вυςку (winterly) wrote in avengers_logs, @ 2020-03-01 08:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | -complete, bucky barnes, steve rogers |
Who: Steve & Bucky
What: Old geezers on vacation
When: Now?
Where: Tønsberg
Status: Complete
Well, here they were. Among Viking burial mounds, lots of crumpled, ruined churches (ones were the skeletal structure still remained, anyway), and trading houses that were once 19th century bars and restaurants. Even a stone tower that was also, you know. Old as shit. Apparently, Tønsberg was the country’s oldest city - so to Bucky, it made sense why the Asgardians would want to set up shop here. And also invite two fossils to come sightsee, which is what he was currently doing with Steve right now. They’d enjoyed the sea breeze that smelled fresh, salt scraping Bucky’s cheeks, walking along the coastal trail to observe the views and the birds. Now they were approaching the art museum - inside, there were works inspired by Edvard Munch, who once had a home in Åsgårdstrandafldsfshauaberg (that wasn’t it, but Bucky wasn’t great at remembering Norwegian names due to their whackadoo spellings). An art museum was more Steve’s thing, but Bucky tried to be a supportive friend. He liked the scenery though, and trying to capture it with a camera - trying being the operative word, because what the hell. “Wait, I need to get a shot of this,” Bucky said, pulling out his phone to attempt to capture a splash of color in the sky that was an exotic bird flying right above them, behind Steve and - “Oh. I think I just got mostly my thumb,” he lamented, scrolling through the phone. Yep. Most of these pictures were awful. --- Steve was all in for a trip to New Asgard, and a visit to his friend and ally Thor. He had something of his to give to him, and finally he was able to do that. It was also a way to get Bucky out of the apartment and doing things, even if they were things that weren’t of much interest to his best friend. At least it was something, and the two of them had a way of making fun out of things that weren’t necessarily the most interesting. One of the first things Steve had noticed upon their arrival was how fresh the air was. It was a far cry from the smells of the city back in New York, though those scents (no matter how awful they could get) were home to him in a lot of ways. That being said, if he thought for a second that Bucky would thrive better in a place like this? Well, he might have to have a couple of conversations with a couple of people about setting up residence here. They could fit in with the Asgardians, right? Steve tried to stay still and wait for Bucky to capture the photo. He was probably making some dumb face because he never knew when the photo was actually going off unless there was a flash. “It’s because the dang blasted thing is so small,’ he said. “Every time I try it ends up taking a video of my face from the worst angle.” --- “I don’t think there’s any angle of your face that’s a bad angle,” Bucky pointed out though, wait, he should reconsider that. Maybe the angle that happened when you accidentally went into video mode on your phone while looking down, so it appeared like you had six chins. Was that what Steve was talking about? Hell, he had no idea. He slipped his phone back into his coat pocket and both hands, flesh and vibranium followed suit (because it was a little chilly in New Asgard right now - but a delicate kind of cold, like frozen lace on the skin) and he turned toward Steve, willing to pause for a moment at one of the bird-watching stations before they went into the museum and Bucky inevitably fell asleep. “So, um. I kind of wanted to talk to you about something?” he hedged, certain it wouldn’t take long. But he’d promised at the SHIELD meeting, and thus he had to follow through. --- That was definitely the angle. Steve wasn’t a vain guy by any stretch, but he’d learned no one looked good when you had the camera facing you from down below and your head was kind of tucked downward too. He didn’t have to be tech savvy to know six chins wasn’t a good look. He made a little face when Bucky said he didn’t have any bad angles and rolled his eyes. “Okay, Sergeant Dreamboat.” Because Bucky had always been the handsome one of the two of them. Not that it’d ever been a competition. It was just a fact. He did look over curiously at Bucky when the other man posed the idea of needing to have a chat about something. Steve wasn’t sure what it could be, but there weren’t really any topics of discussion that were off limits between them so he nodded. “Sure, Buck. What is it?” He asked. It must’ve been something not vacation related, and probably not something Bucky wanted to talk about because otherwise he just would’ve started talking about it without the preface of wanting to bring something up. --- Sergeant Dreamboat. Bucky snorted, the reaction accompanied by an eyeroll of his own - maybe back in the days of wining and dining pretty dames (he’d always liked redheads) he turned on the charm to attempt to hit dreamboat status, but now he was just tired. He didn’t want to have to impress anyone, just leave him alone with his plums and his old-timey radio shows. But alright, back to the issue at hand. A gust of sea breeze blew by, he tasted salt again, fingers brushing the mess of dark hair back to tuck up under his baseball cap. “At the SHIELD meeting, people - “ Or actually, it seemed to be just Bobbi, and originally he assumed she had better things to do as Co-Director of SHIELD, but, “...were concerned about you? That you’d find out the other you that was here, in this universe, was engaged to Peggy and now you’re...not.” Goddamn, that sounded even stupider when he said it out loud. --- Didn’t matter if it was a century ago or right now, Steve still saw Bucky as he was, and he was definitely a catch. And Steve was tired, too. Hell, they earned the right to be tired. They were old as dinosaurs and had both been to war and seen too much. It was time for a rest, even though there never seemed to actually be time. But give him his best friend, a comfy couch and the old-timey radio shows and Steve was happy as could be. Even if they had to watch them on the YouTube screen. As he listened, a deep frown etched its way into his features. Steve didn’t really understand the point of what Bucky was talking about. From the sounds of it, the Steve who’d been here before had a relationship with Peggy. Fair enough. There’d been a time when Steve would’ve wanted that, and apparently there was a part of him that would go on to have that when given the chance given what Bucky told him of the future. But right now, at this point? He didn’t feel that way. He couldn’t explain the actions of his future self, or the Steve who’d preceded him, but it wasn’t his place to. All he could be accountable for was right now, and none of that had anything to do with him. “So?” Was really all he could respond with at first. It wasn’t like he felt like he was missing out on anything. That wasn’t him, and it wasn’t like the Peggy that Steve had been apparently engaged to was there heartbroken, so he didn’t see why anyone would be concerned. There might be questions from the press, he guessed, or the general public. But Steve hadn’t exactly made his love life a public spectacle to begin with. It was his business, and he was notoriously private about it. “If they’re concerned about me, why don’t they reach out to me instead of talking to other people about it? Sorry you had to be a mouth piece, Buck. That’s not your responsibility.” --- Bucky cleared his throat, feeling awkward. He’d felt awkward at the meeting and he felt awkward now - it wasn’t Steve’s fault, of course; mostly Bucky was just trying to do his job, or at least, what he thought was his job. Apparently he’d been given the role of mouthpiece. “They were just talking about how to drum up some positive press for the Avengers,” he said. “Since it’s in short supply now. Bobbi mentioned other you and Peggy were...favorites of the press. But it’s not your responsibility to be a dancing monkey either, you know, just because I’m telling you this. I mean, screw the press.” He wasn’t particularly concerned. Not when there were bigger fish to fry. ---- It was really awkward and Steve immediately understood why Bucky had prefaced it that way. He hated that his friend had been burdened with that information. It wasn’t for Bucky to have to deal with. If someone had something to say about him, then they could say it to Steve directly. Not hide behind his best friend to address it. It was in the past, and wasn’t the current present. Why hang onto it? If people had questions, they’d ask. Until then, it was best to move forward. “Screw the press,” Steve repeated. “I did the song and dance before and hated it,” he said. Steve did not like recalling his days as the Star Spangled Man with a Plan. “I’m not one to put my business out for the public to see anyway. They see Captain America, and that’s fine. I can give a motivational speech about humanity and the greater good or whatever. But my personal life is mine. Whatever a past version of me did is his business. They get who they get now. Whether that’s positive or negative is really up to the press and how they decide to spin it regardless of what I actually say.” He moved to clap Bucky on the back and let his hand linger on the back of his neck as he so often did. “Let’s just have a good vacation, yeah? We’re just two old men from Brooklyn right now. Everything else can wait.” ---- The fact that Steve had done the whole song and dance before was what confused Bucky when Bobbi mentioned ‘press favorites.’ It didn’t compute, as to why Steve would be out there parading his best gal around, but then again - maybe it wasn’t Bucky’s business. They were literally two different people, then and now. Copies of each other. Maybe those copies had brain damage. It was possible. “Yeah, I didn’t mean to kill the mood,” he chuckled; at the touch to the back of his neck he tilted his head so he kind of rested it against Steve’s arm, lingering there too. And most of the time, he wasn’t into lingering. Or touching at all. But, again, they were two old men on vacation, the scenery was beautiful, and damn if Bucky wasn’t going to learn how to take a proper picture with this phone. He would, he was determined. “Well - “ He exhaled a big sigh, then took a breath; the air was so fresh, he kind of loved it out here. World’s better than smog and pollution and whatever wafted up from the subway grates in New York. “How about we check out this museum and then see if we can get sloshed from Asgardian ale?” Steve might even be able to feel a buzz off of that stuff. It was impressive. --- Steve knew, of course, of Bucky’s hesitation when it came to touch. But he also knew it didn’t really apply to him in most situations. He counted himself lucky for that, because it would’ve been terribly difficult not to be able to express himself around Bucky the way he always had. He would’ve respected it, naturally, and abided those boundaries, but he was happy that they didn’t have any. Their connection wasn’t broken, or even fractured, no matter what was thrown at it. World War II, HYDRA, the government, Thanos, not even a pretty red headed dame in the 1940s could sever the bond they had, and Steve took great comfort in that, always. Even though he’d not been too pleased with the subject, Steve was glad to have it out in the open. He was tempted to go onto that network and address the matter himself -- to say that if anyone had any concerns or remarks about him, to address it with him head on so he could put any of those worries or whatever to rest in his own words. And he’d request they not use his best friend to parrot words back and forth. That was too much. He respected Bucky far too much to let anyone use him as the middleman when Steve was a grown ass man himself who could answer whatever questions they had. “A challenge I’ll accept,” he said about the Asgardian ale. If it was strong enough to give Thor a buzz, surely Steve would feel it. He’d seen an Earthbound elderly man ingest some and have to be escorted out to a cab but he was excited to have some, and for Bucky to have it too. They both could stand to let down their guard a little. “C’mon,” he said, his hand falling from Bucky’s neck to his shoulder so he could give it a quick squeeze. “Let’s go get some photos of your thumb in front of me and a painting.” |