Captain Steve Rogers (rightoutoftime) wrote in avengers_logs, @ 2018-05-03 21:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | -complete, bucky barnes, steve rogers |
Who: Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes
What: Long overdue reunion
When: Sometime after this
Rating/Warnings: Green
It honestly felt surreal to think that Bucky was here, in New York, and not in Wakanda where from all reports he was doing pretty good so Steve being Steve had left him to his own devices. He’d only just recovered his memories and had been thrust headfirst into a war between two sides, the last thing he’d needed was Steve breathing down the back of his neck, but he’d kept in touch and up to date. Of course, now that Bucky was here there was no reason not to meet up and see for himself that he was in fact in one whole piece and doing as well as the reports had told Steve. The pizza was ordered and the beer was cooling in the fridge so the only thing Steve now had on his hands was time. Lots and lots of time. Too much time if you asked him. “Christ,” he muttered as he decided instead of just waiting around awkwardly he should at least make his spare room hospitable. It took Bucky less time than he was proud of to make his way over to where Steve was living. He hadn’t unpacked, he’d barely sat down in the hotel room. It was warm, functional. There was a fruit basket on the table and fluffy towels. Honestly though all he’d done was set up the laptop, connect to the network and reach out. He’d been googling, too, catching up on what he’d missed while he had been unplugged in Wakanda. Flying sharks, a Hulk rampage? Those kinds of things he would have heard about even in Wakanda, it added some credibility to this alternate timeline bullshit that Ming the Merciless had commented on, but it didn’t fill him with confidence that this was safe. Still, he wanted to see Steve probably more than he should do. Two years was a long time, and even though he’d spent a large part of that in cryogenic stasis, he felt the passing of time even more keenly when he’d been woken and Shuri had confirmed that she’d removed the programming from his mind that made him a liability. Time passed even more slowly when unplugged from information that he’d been streamed, force-fed, for a really long time. Filling the hours with something helpful was beneficial to him. Stopped him thinking too much about a past he couldn’t change. About a past that he knew people still held against him - and he couldn’t blame them. He held it against himself. It might not have been his choice but he still did it. Their blood, all of the blood, was on his hands. So much of history. He lifted his right hand, curled his fingers into a fist and tapped on the door, left hand clutching the strap on his duffle. He cleared his throat, scratched at his beard and waited. Steve was midway through putting a cover on a very uncooperative pillow when he heard the knock and immediately he felt something akin to excitement leap into the back of his throat. Of course he did his best to quash that because last thing he wanted to do was be too excited and scare Bucky off. Sure he wasn’t as jumpy as he used to be but it had been a long time and he didn’t want to come off too strong. It was just- Well, he’d lost him once and then again by the time they’d hit Wakanda so actually being able to see him face to face and have a conversation with him was definitely an exciting prospect. He took a deep breath and padded over barefoot to the door before opening it with a warm welcoming smile as sure enough there stood Buck. “Hey Buck,” he said as a smile caught his lips. The first thing Bucky noticed was that Steve was barefoot. Barefoot meant that he was comfortable, and if Steve was comfortable, then that meant this place was safe. Bucky felt the tension in his shoulders drop just a little bit, though he did find himself looking over Steve’s shoulder into the apartment briefly, and doing a peripheral check of his surroundings. He supposed some habits died hard, especially ones that had been ingrained for seventy years. He met Steve’s eyes and his lips curled up into a small, reciprocal smile. “Steve,” he offered simply, chin lifted in greeting. Steve looked good. New York suited him. Home suited him. Being the hero that Bucky had always known him to be… it suited him. Steve Rogers had always been meant for great things. It was just a shame that no one else had seen it. He looked away, breaking the eye contact at that thought. Steve was a hero. Steve had sacrificed a lot to try and help a borderline amnesiac mass murdering weapon who had played everyone against each other. Steve who had ended up pulling those loyal to him - because he had that ability, to inspire loyalty that was sometimes dangerously blind - into the frey and they had willingly taken the fall, let themselves be arrested so that they could escape? Something that Bucky couldn’t consider himself worthy of. Right now, even being in Steve’s life wasn’t something he was entirely sure he deserved, let alone someone who looked so pleased to see him standing on the other side of the door. He caught himself thinking that maybe this was a mistake. But now he was here, there was no way Steve would let him leave. “Nice place you got here,” he settled on saying with a slight tease in his voice. “Moving up in the world.” Bucky was right about the whole Steve not letting him leave because that was exactly what would happen if Bucky mentioned he was thinking about it. “It’s good to see you,” Steve said with a smile that broadened as he ushered the other man in so he could shut the door. He chuckled softly at the remark and arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. But you know my place is now your place so we’re both moving up in the world.” Because if Steve was going up then so was Bucky, that was just how it was and would have been earlier if fate hadn’t thrown them the curveball that it did. “I uh set up the other room for you,” Steve said as he gestured. “It’s yours for as long as you want it.” “I looked at the house prices,” Bucky said, rubbing the back of his neck and letting out a low whistle, indicating just how he felt about the prices of real-estate. The future was expensive. It had never been a priority for him before. He couldn’t once remember even thinking about buying a house, finding somewhere to live or settle down when he was done. As the Winter Soldier, he’d not had a sense of retirement. It was only the now, the current mission, and the knowledge that he would be tossed aside when it was all done, put down. He moved in as Steve gestured with his hand and, clutching the small bag of belongings he had with him, pushed the door closed. Officially, he was now standing awkwardly in Steve’s home. “Thanks, Steve, I mean you didn’t have to.” He cleared his throat and offered his old friend a smile. Dropping his bag, he asked, “I know the beard’s intimidating, but what, no hug?” “Don’t even get me started on those,” Steve muttered with a shake of his head. “Trying to find anything affordable in Brooklyn? Absolute nightmare.” And to think at one time that neighbourhood had been one of the more impoverished around but now the real estate was a pretty cent. He gave a playful roll of his eyes when Bucky complained about no hug and just smirked. “Didn’t know if you’d outgrown those in your time in Wakanda.” Though he immediately remedied the lack of hug by wrapping his arms around Bucky, firmly and not at all… desperate because it had been a really long time since he’d last been able to hug his friend. Too long. “That why you’re not in Brooklyn?” Bucky asked, because he’d almost missed his stop when he was heading over. Old habits, he supposed, wasn’t expecting to get off for a few more stops at least. The laugh that escaped Bucky at Steve’s comment seemed to catch him by surprise but he recovered quick enough. Even in Wakanda he hadn’t laughed much; he’d been busy working and catching up on everything he’d missed. “Well, you know, two years in an African nation definitely beats out a hundred years of-“ he cut himself off, “C’mere, you punk,” he said changing tack and hugging Steve back just as tightly, fingers catching in the fabric of Steve’s shirt. He took in a slow breath. “Pretty sure you don’t grow outta that shit, Stevie.” Steve let out a soft laugh which sounded way more desperate than he would have liked to admit aloud but it was okay. This was Bucky after all, he wouldn’t judge or if he did he wouldn’t say anything. “Good to know,” he shared with a small smirk as he flexed his fingers in the material of Bu-cky’s shirt and just savoured this moment because fuck he’d missed him, he really had. He belatedly realised that perhaps they had been hugging for longer than absolutely necessary and he very reluctantly let go, but didn’t go so far as his hand found its way to Bucky’s shoulder where it squeezed. “It really is good to see you.” “You trying to grow that beard you never could?” Bucky asked, nudging Steve’s jaw gently with his right fist, fingers curled towards his palm. There was the start of stubble there. “Not that I can talk,” he added a moment later, grimacing as he scratched at his own. It wasn’t rough, though, or coarse to the touch. In fact, it was quite soft. The grooming products out in Wakanda were something to marvel at. He almost wished that some of them had come back with him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had much prior notice before being scooped up of Africa and dumped in New York. Not even in a good part of New York. He stepped back out of Steve’s space, but not so far that the touch to his shoulder disappeared. “Yeah, you too.” Steve let out a low whistle at the remark about his beard growing prowess before he chuckled, rubbing at his jaw. “Something like that.” He watched Bucky scratch at his beard and tipped his head. “I dunno, I think it kinda suits you. Ladies will love it.” Bucky had after quite the way with the ladies. Steve? Not so much. “I ordered some pizza and I have some cold ones in the fridge. You want one?” “You’ve already got more of a beard than you were ever able to grow before,” Bucky teased, scratching his hand through his own once more and finally pulling away to pick up his discarded bag. He hoped it hadn’t fallen too hard; he’d put the laptop and phone in there and he knew from experience just how fragile technology was. Easily broken. Used to serve him well; smash something and they couldn’t call for help. Look for the blind spots and- He shook his head to dislodge the thoughts. Shuri might have gotten rid of the programming that turned him into the mindless weapon he’d spent the better part of the last century as but she couldn’t do anything with the memories. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to. “Pizza and beer? You planning on throwing a party, Steve?” He nodded, “But yeah- please. Could I, dunno, maybe take a shower first?” “Oh yeah, sure,” Steve said with a nod before he gestured. “The bathroom is the third door down the hall on your right.” He smiled. “Knock yourself out.” There were towels already in there so Steve didn’t need to fuss with that, thankfully. He felt sort of fussy truth be told but he also knew better than to do that, Bucky needed room to breathe. “Shouldn’t be too long,” Bucky promised, sensing a bit of hesitation. He offered Steve a grin and patted his old friend on the shoulder as he passed, “Promise I won’t leap out the window while you’re not looking.” If that was what Steve was worried about. Still had a shit poker face. At least some things never changed. Steve gave a small self conscious laugh because apparently his face had given him away. He’d always been a pretty open book after all and that much hadn’t changed in all the years. Once Bucky was out of sight Steve pushed a breath out and went delving into the fridge for a beer and glanced at the clock, hopefully pizza would be here soon. |