Steve Rogers (manwithaplan) wrote in avengers_logs, @ 2018-01-28 20:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | -complete, -rating: red |
Who: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes
What: a reunion
Rating: yellow for language
Bucky couldn’t help but feel relieved that Steve was there. Of course a part of him would rather Steve was safe and sound away from any kind of danger, but was the normal timeline any less perilous? Probably not. But who really knew?
He hurried to Steve’s room and tapped on the door. He felt some measure of guilt for leaving Steve to deal with everything while he went back into cryostasis, but he had his reasons. He still wasn’t sure whether or not his brain had been deprogrammed. He was still waiting to hear from Stark on that point, too.
Steve had been waiting eagerly. He flung the door open with a big grin and cried, “Buck! Oh my god, I’m so glad to see you!” He reached out, pulling Bucky in for a hug. He’d missed him so much. He knew Bucky was safe in Wakanda, in cryo, but he’d still worried… he still didn’t understand why they were all here but it didn’t matter as long as Bucky was safe.
Steve’s reaction was overwhelming. Bucky leaned into the embrace, enjoying it for probably a lot longer than he should have. “Hey,” he said, finally leaning back a little. To say that he was glad to see Steve was something of an understatement. “So Stark put you in this dump, too, huh?” he said, smiling a little. It was an effort. It wasn’t an expression he used much anymore, and the muscles in his face felt a little like they’d long since atrophied.
Steve chuckled. “I was surprised he put me anywhere, but yeah. Come in, come in,” he said, stepping back. He surreptitiously looked over his best friend. He looked well. Better than he’d seen him for some time. He closed the door and just drank it in. “I still don’t know what’s going on, really. Do you understand it?” He wanted to hug Bucky again, over and over, to make up for the time they’d lost. Not that he could ever make up for leaving Bucky for dead after he fell from the train. That would haunt him forever. He pushed that thought away, trying to smile again.
Bucky took a few steps inside. “Something about… the timeline splitting off… anomalies… I don’t really get it, either. I only know that I woke up downtown. Then that Doctor Strange guy game me money and a phone. And the key. Stark and I talked. Mostly civilly.” Steve’s very presence dialed down Bucky’s anxiety almost to zero. He didn’t want to endanger his friend, but knowing where he was soothed something inside of him.
Steve nodded. “Yeah. That’s about all I got too. I guess we gotta go with the flow, then. Just assume we’re not dreaming and go forward.” He stepped closer. “I gotta ask, Buck. I see you have a new arm,” he said waving his hand at the appendage, though he couldn’t see what it looked like, it was definitely there. “Were they able to get the programming out of your head?” Not that he was going to treat Bucky any differently, either way. He just wanted to know.
Since they were alone in Steve’s room, Bucky shrugged out of his hoodie and tugged off his gloves, stuffing them in his back pocket. He pulled his shirtsleeve up so Steve could see the new arm. It was a darker shade of vibranium, with gold-colored joints between the plates. “It’s a damn shame I can’t show this thing off,” he said. “But yeah. I have no idea if they got the programming out of my head or not. I showed up in New York just like you, with no idea how or why. And there’s no one here who would know. I haven’t run across any Wakandans. As far as I remember, I was in cryo until I was here.”
Steve whistled. The arm was gorgeous, a marvel of engineering, devoid of the harsh red star. “Does it feel the same?” he asked about the arm. “You probably haven’t had a chance to test it. If there was some kind of gym here, I could help with that…” The news about the programming was worrying, though. There was no way to know for sure without saying the words.
“It’s lighter, which is great.” Bucky moved his shoulders a little. “You have no idea what that thing did to my fucking back. I haven’t tried to bust anything with it, but it moves great. I could probably play piano with this thing,” he added. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter, and proceeded to show off by flipping it across his metal knuckles one at a time and back again.
Steve watched, impressed. “I remember there was a guy at Coney Island who could do that. I was so frustrated because I couldn’t figure it out.” He looked back up at Bucky’s face, unable to stop smiling. Bucky was here, so whatever was happening he could handle it. He’d spent too long away from his best friend. “I missed you, jerk.”
Bucky slid the quarter back into his pocket and took a step closer, giving Steve another hug. “Shut up, punk. We’re stuck together now.” He gave Steve a squeeze with his real arm before stepping back again. “So… I’m working on getting a fake ID so I can get a job. If I can manage it, you want one?”
Steve’s eyes widened. “You think that would work? I mean… people would still recognize us, wouldn’t they?” He didn’t mean to sound conceited, but his face had been splashed all over the news for years now. He wondered how long Bucky had been there, to be so far along in figuring things out.
“Yeah, about that…” Bucky said, wincing a little. He wasn’t really proud of the fact that he’d gone to Loki for help, but he wasn’t gonna lie about it. “So I kinda got a spell put on me that makes me look different to everyone who doesn’t know me. Here, I’ll show you.” He took out his phone and stood next to Steve and took a selfie of the two of them together. Then he showed him the photo. “See?”
Steve gasped as he looked at the picture. “A spell? I know there’s magic involved, obviously, since we’re here. But… is that wise?” He asked. “Do you trust the one who cast it?” He didn’t trust magic as a rule. It seemed like cheating. But then again so was the serum, so he didn’t voice that thought.
Bucky knew he was just gonna have to come out with it. “So that Doctor Strange guy, did you meet him? He suggested that I go to the only other magical person who could take care of it easily. Loki.” He knew that Steve fought against Loki, and he was sure he was going to have an opinion about it. “He’s the one who did it.”
Steve’s mouth dropped open. “Wait. You’re telling me you let Loki… Thor’s mass murderer brother… cast a spell on you?” He knew he sounded incredulous, because he was. “Buck…”
Bucky was not surprised at Steve’s reaction. “I know. I know. But… I mean, do I really have a right to judge him? All things considered? I wouldn’t have done it if the other guy didn’t suggest it. And it worked pretty good, right?”
Steve blinked. “I wasn’t judging. I was questioning his intentions with respect to your well-being. The other guy? You mean Strange?” He’d been reading as much as possible on the network. “How do we know we can trust him?” Although, he was living off his--or maybe Stark’s--largesse right now, so he couldn’t really talk.
“I met with him. Talked with him. I wasn’t gonna do it, but then… I don’t know. It didn’t seem like such a terrible idea. I felt like… he needed a way to get some points for helping out with the powers that be. I mean not that helping me was gonna endear him to Stark. He was doing the same for someone else, too. And he said he would…” Bucky paused, realizing the comment that was about to tumble off his lips. “He said he would help Rumlow, too.”
Steve was about to say something when he stopped cold. “Rumlow? Rumlow is dead. He’s gotta be this time.” He’d thought he was dead the first time though. He could still remember the moment he’d realized Rumlow meant to blow them both up. He wasn’t sure even he could survive being that close to a bomb.
“Yeah, not so much. He got caught up in the time thing, and he ended up here. He thought he was dead, too, so… must have been from whenever that was,” Bucky said. Something about the way Steve said it troubled him, though. ‘He’s gotta be this time.’ What did that mean? “Were you there when he… died?” he asked. Rumlow hadn’t given him any details about it.
Steve narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, I was there when he died.” He was surprised Bucky didn’t already know about it. “I was there because he was trying to kill me by blowing us both up.” As it was, other people had died, and that was on his conscience.
Bucky’s eyes went wide. “Well. That explains why he didn’t go into detail about how it happened,” he said. He couldn’t believe that Rumlow had tried to kill Steve and just didn’t tell him about that. “Steve… I didn’t know,” he said.
Steve took a step closer. “Rumlow’s here… and you’ve been talking to him?” Steve couldn’t conceive of a reason Bucky would want to see Rumlow, let alone talk to him. He would say it was none of his business who Bucky hung out with, but in this case it kind of was.
“Well… yes. He showed up here and no one really knew he was here so he didn’t have anything. No money. No room. No phone. No clue why he was here,” he said. He wished that Rumlow had told him about Steve up front. “So I helped him out. Strange found him now, though. He’s got his own hotel room.”
Steve crossed his arms. “How exactly did you help him out?” He pushed away a feeling in his stomach he didn’t like. It felt too much like jealousy, and he wasn’t entitled to that feeling. Bucky was a nice guy. He always had been, and loyal to a fault to his friends. He just hadn’t known Brock Rumlow was one of those.
Bucky felt like he’d disappointed Steve. “He… was in a fight and… he was outnumbered, so I got him out of it. He didn’t have any money or a place to stay so… I bought him some food and he was sharing my room with me until he got his own.” He lowered his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t know he tried to kill you.”
This just got better and better. Steve took a step back this time. “He— he shared your room? A room this size?” He looked around. The room was small. Only one bed. He couldn’t say it out loud but the implication was clear.
Bucky felt the sudden distance between them like a cold breeze. He looked up at Steve, feeling an anxiety he hadn’t felt since Steve had found him in Romania. “He… didn’t have anywhere to go.” At the time, he hadn’t hesitated for a moment. There was no question that it was the right thing to do.
Steve had been so happy to see Bucky. He still was. But this… he had to think. Bucky hadn’t known Rumlow had tried to kill him. Bucky had done what he thought was right. “Of course,” He said softly. “But I thought… I thought he…” He knew how HYDRA had treated Bucky. And Rumlow had been HYDRA.
Bucky knew it was the perfect time to mention what Rumlow had done for him, but a part of him wanted to know what Steve was thinking. “Rumlow kind of protected me… from some of the others. When he could.” Talking about all of that made Bucky feel worthless and broken. He swallowed past a lump in his throat. He exhaled a shaky breath and turned slightly away from Steve. “Anyway. He’s gone now. He got one of the rooms in the nicer hotel. If I knew what he’d done I would have kicked him out.”
Steve’s heart broke at the memory of what Bucky had gone through. And it was all because of him. His fault. He hadn’t gone after Bucky. He’d left his best friend to the mercy of HYDRA. He stepped forward and put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I didn’t know he protected you,” he said softly. He should have been the one to protect Bucky.
Bucky really didn’t want to go there, even in his own head, but it was too late. “Yeah. I guess he realized I was… helpless. So he… He was the one taking care of me for a while.” His handler. Like he was a wild beast.
Steve had always got the feeling that Rumlow had had something of a proprietary attitude toward Bucky. And even when they’d worked together he’d felt that Rumlow didn’t like him. This might explain that somewhat. “I’m sorry, Buck. It’s none of my business who you help. Or who stays with you.” They weren’t kids any more. So much had happened. It was naive of him to think nothing had changed between them.
There was something going on that Bucky wasn’t sure he understood completely. “Steve… I never would have invited him in if I knew he’d tried to hurt you. I mean… besides the fact that I tried to kill you, too, but you know… I can’t kick myself out.” He watched Steve’s face carefully, hoping to get at least a little ghost of a smirk out of him.
Steve wasn’t feeling very amused. “That was different. You know that.” He was sorry he was bringing all this up. It wasn’t the reunion Steve had hoped for when he’d realized Bucky was here too. He really was naive. There was so much about Bucky’s life he didn’t know, because he hadn’t pushed him for details. When it came down to it maybe a part of him didn’t really want to know. “I’m just worried about you, Buck.”
Bucky felt like he’d messed everything up. He’d felt sorry for Rumlow, and maybe he’d felt a little like… he didn’t deserve Stark’s help. And if things were reversed Rumlow might just help him out if he could. “But it’s not… none of your business. I don’t have anything that’s not your business, Steve,” he said quietly. “You weren’t here, which… I hoped maybe meant that you were safe. But you are here now, so… I wouldn’t want to stay with anyone but you.” He had no idea why Steve would seem to doubt that, but he felt like saying it aloud anyway.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Steve said, though he knew it was ridiculous because he’d had no control over getting here at all. “I’m sorry for so many things.” He would forever carry the weight of what had happened to Bucky on his shoulders. To go through what he had gone through, a victim, then to be blamed and chased like a criminal for it? Still now he was forced to hide. Steve could never make up for what Bucky had lost. He could only be a friend. “I’m here now.” He wasn’t going to fail Bucky again.
Bucky swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Steve… what the Hell do you have to be sorry for? There was no way you could have willed yourself into another time. I mean… you’re pretty smart, but that might be a little beyond your powers.” He reached out and put his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong, pal. None of this is your fault.”
It was his fault, though, ultimately. Because of that moment he’d given Bucky up for dead. He couldn’t say that, though. It sounded too much like Steve was making it all about him. He’d keep that to himself. “And none of it is your fault either,” he responded quietly, putting his hand over Bucky’s. He tried a wan smile.
Bucky wasn’t going to get past his guilt that easily, but he gave Steve a smile. “So can we get past this? We gotta get out of this place that Stark is paying for, and that’s the number one priority. And finding out if I still have the words in my head. I already mentioned that to him and he’s gonna look into it. Seems like we’re stuck in New York for the time being. Am I forgetting anything?” he asked. It was the most words he’d said in a lot time.
Steve could feel part of his soul settle a bit now that he and Bucky were together again. He’d always felt more complete with his best friend by his side. “So Tony is being… helpful? Really?” He was wary of Tony’s motivations but he really did feel deep down he could trust him with the big stuff. He wanted to know more about Rumlow but he didn’t want to argue with Bucky.
“Pretty sure Stark doesn’t want to run the risk, which I can’t blame him. He was still kind of a dick about it, but I can’t really blame him for that, either,” he said with a shrug. “He was civil enough.” Bucky knew there was no way to make things right with Stark, but he still hated that he was the reason for Steve’s rift with him.
Steve was guardedly hopeful. Maybe all wasn’t lost between the Avengers. He knew he was overly optimistic most of the time but that was his nature. All he knew for sure was that Bucky was here and so was he. The rest would work itself out. “So what’s your plan now? Try to get a job with your new face?”
“Yes. That was the point of it. I gotta get some fake ID first, but…” He remembered how he’d sent Rumlow to get a fake face from Loki so they could both get jobs. He still felt like he wanted to help him, but he was definitely going to read him the riot act about Steve. “What about you? I’ll bet if you could make up with Stark he’d have a place for you to live nicer than this.”
Steve chuckled. “It’s not so bad. I’ve lived in better, but I’ve lived in worse. You know that.” Their apartment in Brooklyn would have been a hovel by modern standards but he’d loved it. Mostly because it was his and Bucky’s. He wished they could share a place again but there he was being naive again. “But yeah. I’ll talk to Tony. See where his head is at. Which could be scary.”
Bucky smiled a little at the reference to when they’d lived together. “I was back in the old neighborhood the other day. Diner’s still there,” he said quietly. “Remember when we used to share a meal when we couldn’t scrape together enough for both of us?” He wished they could live together. “Maybe… If Stark won’t put you up… we could split the rent on something. No pressure, though.”
Steve’s eyes widened and his hopes rose a little. “Well I have this lovely place for a month apparently. But yeah. You don’t snore too bad, so. I’d like to share a place again.” He knew they’d never be like they’d used to be but Bucky would always be his best friend. “And I eat a little more than I used to,” he added. “And I still don’t know how to cook anything more than I used to.” Which wasn’t much.
“I got pretty good at cooking beans and rice,” he quipped. “And ramen noodles.” Bucky had acquired a lot of valuable survival skills after leaving HYDRA and hiding from the entire world. He didn’t need to stay in the hotel at all, in fact. Now that he’d gotten himself fairly oriented, he would be able to find a place to sleep with little difficulty.
“Ramen noodles. I’ve heard of them but I don’t know what they are.” He chuckled. “Between the two of us, I bet we could put away some groceries. Maybe we’d better split rent so we won’t be hungry all the time.” He could survive without food for an indefinite amount of time, of course, but it wasn’t fun. He couldn’t stop gazing at Bucky. It was almost too good to be true.
“Maybe I should’ve got a better looking face. If I get a bartending job, I’m gonna need lots of tips,” Bucky said. He was already starting to feel more relaxed around Steve. It was like… being home again. “What about you? Were you thinking about trying to get a job?” he asked.
Steve shrugged. “I guess. I hadn’t got that far yet. Finding out you were here kinda distracted me.” He knew he was blushing slightly. He could feel it. His fair skin showed everything. He ran a hand through his hair. “I got no real experience. But I could dig ditches or something. Is that still a job now?”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t know, pal. But I’m willing to bet you could aim a little higher than that. What about something with drawing? Or… I could teach you some computer things. I bet you’d pick stuff up as quickly as I do. You could do pretty much anything you wanna do.” One thing Bucky had appreciated about his enhanced abilities was his ability to retain information.
The only thing Steve wanted to do right now was talk with Bucky. Make sure he was okay. And maybe beat the heck out of Rumlow, but he couldn’t do that. He felt sure it was against the rules. “I look like I could be a personal trainer, but I don’t know a damn thing about working out.” He did, though, he supposed. He had a detailed knowledge of human anatomy that he could extrapolate from. He had a lot of knowledge that just popped up when he needed it.
“Hey, that’s a good one. You could probably watch enough exercise videos on youtube to come up with some routines of your own pretty easily. People pay a lot of dough for those personal trainers.” Bucky had the random thought that he’d like to see Steve in one of those loose-fitting tank top things and a pair of shorts. He’d definitely look the part. “Hey, ya wanna sit down for a while? I don’t have anywhere to be. Do you?” he asked.
Steve smiled. “Even if I did—which I don’t— there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I don’t have anything to offer you though… well, maybe water.” He walked toward the bed that was the only seating in the room. “This is gonna have to do.”
Bucky kicked off his boots and sat on the bed, pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged, leaning back against the wall. “You don’t mind if I just make myself comfortable, right?” he asked. He didn’t need anything else. Just being there with Steve, with time on their hands… it no longer mattered how shitty the hotel was. They could be in jail for all he cared, as long as they were there alone together.
Steve joined him, leaning back. “If you can get comfortable on this bed, be my guest.” He sighed happily. This was all he’d ever wanted when he was younger, just to hang out with his best friend. They always had good time no matter what happened.
“Ha. It’s not really that bad. Have you slept on it yet?” He shifted a little and stretched out flat on his stomach in front of Steve, pillowing his head on his arms. “Maybe you could train to be a massage therapist. I could be your practice dummy,” he said, smirking.
Steve felt a little twist in his stomach. He pushed it away. Bucky didn’t mean anything by it. “Actually I do know how to give a massage. You in need of one?” He knew how to relax strained muscles. And he was strong enough it wouldn’t tire him out.
“Oh Hell yeah,” Bucky said. He leaned up on his elbows and yanked his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the floor, the flopped back down. “Just not too close to… that part where it turns into metal,” he said, stretching out. “I’ve been one big knot since about 1965.”
Steve swallowed hard at the expense of skin stretched out before him. He’d seen Bucky shirtless before of course. But that had been a long time ago, and even then it had made him blush. And Bucky’s body was so different now. So hard. So muscled. “Okay,” He said a little hoarsely. “Um. This will work better if I…” he shifted, getting up on his knees and straddling Bucky’s waist.
Bucky was glad he was lying on his stomach. He inhaled a shaky breath and cursed himself for an idiot. “Sure. Whatever works,” he rasped. “You sure this is okay? I mean… you definitely volunteered, so… it’d be bad form for you to back out now.”
“Have you ever seen me back out of anything?” Steve pointed out, though he felt less than confident right now. “I hope I don’t crush you. I’m told I’m heavier than I look.” He settled down, closing his eyes briefly at the heat from Bucky’s skin. “This okay?” He asked as he laid his hands on Bucky’s back.
Bucky snorted quietly. “Yeah, I think I can handle it, big guy. Don’t worry about me.” Steve’s touch sent a little shiver through his shoulders. “And don’t worry about being too rough. You’ll probably have to be.” Bucky really had no experience with being touched gently, except by one person, and it wasn’t a memory he wanted to relive. Ever.
Steve grinned. “Is that a challenge?” He loved the fact that Bucky was as strong, if not stronger than him. It was something they had in common. He also didn’t have to be too careful. He began to knead the muscles just below Bucky’s neck. His trapezius, his mind supplied helpfully. He could see the muscle diagram in his head and he instinctively knew where to press and how hard. “Lemme know how that feels.”
Bucky squirmed a little under Steve’s strong hands. A moan issued forth from his throat before he even realized it. “Jesus, Rogers. Where’s you learn to do that?” he croaked. He could feel each muscle releasing tension that he hadn’t even been consciously aware of. “Did you date a masseuse and not tell me about it?” Considering Steve had never told him about anyone that he’d been dating, that wasn’t much of a stretch. But surely Steve had dated. He must have.
Steve hadn’t been expecting that kind of reaction, let alone a moan like that. His face burned scarlet, though luckily Bucky couldn’t see it this time. He had to clear his throat before he could answer. “Um. No. I didn’t date a masseuse.” Or anyone else. He focused on working his way down the same muscle, one hand on either side of Bucky’s spine, steering clear of the metal arm and its associated scarring. Steve wanted to ask whether it hurt, but it didn’t seem the time for that.
Bucky took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “Mmm. Well whoever taught you this deserves a pat on the back,” he purred. “If I fall asleep in your bed you can just toss me out the door.” He thought about sharing the bed with Rumlow, and it made him frown a little. Rumlow who protected him, and then tried to kill Steve. He never should have done it, but… at the time it was the only decision he could have made.
Steve scooted back a little so he could massage lower, moving his hands further to the sides now that he was clear of the arm area. Unfortunately that meant he was sitting right on Bucky’s ass. He bit his lip and tried not to think about how firm it was. To distract himself, he said, “You can sleep here. It wouldn’t be the first time we slept together. I mean...oh god.” He would have buried his face in his hands if they weren’t occupied.
Bucky snickered a little. His eyes were closed, but he smiled. “You’re blushing, aren’t you, punk?” Like this he could almost pretend that he was still himself and Steve was still his little best friend that didn’t belong to anyone else in the world but him. “We slept together more times than some guys slept with their wives,” he murmured. And probably enjoyed it more.
“I’m Captain America. I don’t blush,” Steve lied, grinning. He felt a little too warm also, thinking of the two of them… sleeping together. Like guys slept with their wives. He couldn’t pursue that line of conversation. Instead he blurted, “Does the arm hurt? I mean. Like to touch it? You said to avoid it, so…”
Bucky found the abrupt change of topic telling, but he was glad that Steve wanted to talk. There was nothing he wasn’t prepared to tell him. Well… almost nothing. Some things he wasn’t exactly going to volunteer. “Not normally. But the flesh is fused to the metal at the seam, and obviously the metal is a lot sturdier, so if there’s any separation, it’s gonna be the real part that gets the brunt of it. It heals up again quickly, but it’s never going to be 100% healed over. It’s like… the weakest link.”
Steve reached out tentatively and brushed his fingers over the seam of flesh and metal. “I… I can be very careful, if you trust me. I’m sure the muscles attached to it could use some attention.” He wanted to take away every bit of hurt Bucky had ever felt.
“I trust you with my life, Stevie,” he murmured. “You can touch me anywhere. You can ask me anything. There’s nothing I would hide from you.” It was easier to say such things with his eyes closed, and especially now that he was feeling pretty relaxed.
Steve couldn’t help where his mind went at Bucky’s statement. He thought he might spontaneously combust any moment, his face was so hot. “I trust you too, Buck,” he breathed, leaning forward so he could work on the muscles near the arm. He closed his eyes and touched gently, feeling the way they attached, and began to massage. He wanted to ask Bucky other things. But he couldn’t.
The careful touch slowly eased away a sort of… cramping that Bucky had grown so used to that he’d hardly noticed it. When it slipped away, however, the resulting relief felt like pleasure, so warm and soothing that he damn near sobbed from how good it felt. Maybe it was accumulated worry. Maybe it was the unhoped for kindness. Either way, Bucky found himself feeling suddenly emotional. “That’s good,” he whispered hoarsely, trying to keep talking to a minimum while he tried to get ahold of himself.
Steve could hear the tone of Bucky’s voice, though. He was so attuned to his best friend’s emotions that he knew something was up. “What’s wrong, Buck?” he said with worry, leaning close so his lips were inches away from the other man’s ear. “Am I hurting you? You want me to stop?” He so desperately wanted to make Bucky happy. He’d do anything.
“No. It doesn’t hurt,” he whispered. He sucked in an uneven breath. He could feel Steve’s proximity even if he hadn’t been able to hear it. He licked his lips. “I get like this sometimes. When… they used to have me on a cocktail of meds that suppressed things like… happiness, sadness, libido. After all that wore off… sometimes it just hits me outta nowhere, you know?”
“Oh Buck,” Steve cried, forgetting any kind of propriety and sagging onto Bucky’s back, hugging him as much as he could from that position. “I’m so sorry.” The more he heard about Bucky’s plight, the worse it got. And the deeper his guilt ran. “You can let it out. Say anything, do anything. I’m here.”
Feeling the solidness of Steve pressed against him was more reassuring than anything he’d ever felt. “It… wasn’t even… anything. Just… I didn’t even realize that spot hurt until… suddenly it didn’t and…” He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling ridiculous. “Jesus. It’s okay, Steve. I’m okay. It’s like… fucking mood swings. They go away eventually.”
Steve’s lips were pressed against the hot skin of Bucky’s neck. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. Ever. You know that, right, Bucky?” He didn’t want to let go of his best friend. Ever. He’d never felt anything as good as the hard body against his and he suddenly realized how starved for physical affection he was.
That didn’t send Bucky’s thoughts anywhere good. “I know,” he whispered. But he wasn’t ready. Some of the things were too raw to hold up to the light just yet. It was still difficult to wrap his head around gaining acceptance from anyone else when he still couldn’t give it to himself. “Don’t… take this the wrong way, but… I wanna turn around. But I don’t want you to go away.”
“You don’t want me to massage you any more?” Steve asked hoarsely. “Or… you want me to massage your front?” It was an innocent question. Really. He pushed away any other thoughts that came up. “But either way I’m gonna have to move a little.”
Finally he managed to push the darkness back enough to smirk a little. “I just knew if I said ‘get off me’ you’d be off the whole fucking bed already. But just… back up temporarily,” he said, leaning up on his elbows again.
Steve mused that Bucky was probably right. He pulled back, sitting back up on his knees. He hoped his blush had subsided somewhat. He didn’t quite know what Bucky wanted. Whatever it was he would do it.
Bucky shifted around onto his back. Steve still looked ready to bolt at the slightest discouragement. “C’mere,” he said, holding his arms open. They were alone, just the two of them. No one would care what they were doing. He just wanted to put his arms around his best friend and hold him tight. Well, he wanted more than that, but he’d settle for that.
Steve’s breath caught. It was unusual. But who cared what anyone thought? Just because the world thought that two men couldn’t embrace didn’t matter. The world wasn’t here. He didn’t reply, just lay down next to Bucky and wrapped his arms around his best friend.
Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve, holding him close. “Thanks, Steve. That was a damn fine backrub,” he said quietly. Maybe everything would be okay.