( the kiss catches him off guard, bucky having stood straight again after alex set his bag down, assuming they'd likely be heading out. instead, he's suddenly quiet breathless and his knees buckle under him, enough so that he has to grasp onto alex with both hands to keep himself steady and to keep from knocking the both of them down in the process.
huffing nervously against alex's cheek, bucky smiles after a moment, nudging gently against alex's ear with his nose. )
Sweet talker.
( but it seems to have done the trick. whatever had been bothering him seems long forgotten now, bucky's grasp shifting to be more intimate and less reactionary before he turns further to brush his lips against alex's cheek. )
[ oh thank god, when that rizz nat 20 hits. but also — wow, he was not expecting that. knees buckling? is he truly that powerful? it all happens so fast that alex's free hand is unneeded as it ends up resting against bucky's back.
do not say something stupid. do not say something stupid. every cell in his body is chanting for him to not fuck this up by talking about anything tangible, especially fucking furniture —
it becomes a non-issue when bucky is the one kissing him, though. receiving attention he didn't initiate from someone he actually cares about? even when it's relatively — comparatively — minor? still makes his insides nervously twist around. he kisses him again, still keeping things mouth-centric, biting at bucky's lip as he puts .005 centimeters of space between them to breathe. his mind is as blank as the clear blue sky. ]
( he makes a quiet noise, both in surprise and pleasure, when alex's lips find his again. god, if that doesn't get his heart racing, bucky isn't sure what will. the nip against his skin has him part his lips, a faint moan at the back of his throat as his fingers dig into alex's shirt. )
Missed you, too, ( he breathes, barely able to speak with more force with the wind having been pulled straight from his lungs. ) You always know how to make everything okay.
[ it's one thing for alex to say that he misses bucky, it's another to feel it in his bones. to need someone and to be needed in return, and for him exactly as he is to be enough. this is the sort of emotion that wells up in him until he can't contain it anymore and has an ugly cry. not right now, but it's going to happen at some point on this trip. or, more realistically, some point this evening. but that's the thing: bucky is possibly the only person who makes him feel like having an ugly crying jag could be okay, and not something worthy of punishment.
but, again, he's not crying right now. right now, alex is mouthing along the curve of bucky's neck. calculating the best place to make a hickey? maybe. shh, don't worry about it. mumbled against his skin, breath hot — ] Yeah? You, too.
[ he wants to say more, more about how he makes him feel safe and protected and more comfortable being himself than anyone else, but the word don't come — or at least, they barely cross his mind before being immediately thrown out for being detracting. ]
I'm the most me when I'm with you. [ he punctuates this by licking his neck, apparently one of those "most me" things. ]
( breath audible as he shivers, bucky tries not to fidget from the way heat stirs in his gut, but his fingers twist harder into alex's clothes, unable to mask the growing desperation. alex's breath is hot and wet against his skin, lips still scented of coffee, and bucky already wants to taste them again. when alex's tongue then dips free, the soldier can only groan as he chews on his lower lip. )
S. Starting to feel that way, too, I think.
( backed against the counter, his hips roll forward slightly to press up against alex. )
All these parts of me that I forgot, but you didn't mind waiting to find. I feel safe, when I'm with you.
[ whenever bucky is the one saying stuff like this, alex never ceases to be surprised. bucky is a cool and amazing superhero (shut up, he is) and alex is a jackass with scrambled egg psychic brains. he's not smart or good at anything (source: poor self-esteem and emotional abuse 👍 ) besides breaking everything around him. but here bucky is, saying stuff like he feels safe with him, and it defies logic — but gives him a sense of importance, too. maybe he could protect — not just bucky, but anyone, anything — instead of destroy.
anyway — those are all very nice thoughts, but they pass through like a light breeze when more important things are happening, like the the way licking turns into biting along the curve of the other's neck and shoulder. ]
Uh-huh. [another kiss ending with his teeth needling into bucky's shoulder, followed by — ] You're worth waiting for, though.
[ it's true. imagine getting to know someone before initiating anything physical? and caring about them first? alex would've said "sounds fake" until now, after all this.
(related: if this man does not stop trying to roll his hips against him?? being tired and gross does nothing to dissuade the prospect of Getting Some; anyone who says otherwise is weak and a coward.) ]
( he gasps with the graze of teeth, moaning gently as he leans his head further to the side, encouraging alex to keep his attention there. pressing up harder, hands pulling against alex's clothing to bring him more firmly up against his body, bucky hums to stifle another moan, instead huffing after a moment to answer, )
I never would have thought. Or known. Without you.
[ at this point in time, alex is faced with a dilemma: bucky seems super invested in the attention being paid to his neck/shoulder and would like to keep his own supply of (mostly incoherent) approval and praise coming, but also he bucky is grinding against him and grabbing at his shirt like a security blanket. not that he's one to complain about whatever remaining space between them being closed, but it sure does remind him that he's a simple boy with simple needs who did not almost die in connecticut for nothing. ]
I can take my shirt off if it's a problem, y'know. Or more. Or...?
[ the last "or" is punctuated by both hands moving to bucky's sides and moving lower... lower... to the waistband of his pants. ]
( oh, fuck. the feeling of alex's hands running down his sides makes him shudder noticeably as his breath catches in his throat. bucky needs a moment after to remember his place, where his thoughts had wandered off to with alex so close. )
Best I've got is gun oil.
( which sounds more like a suggestion than an excuse. )
[ that makes him pause. he is not taken completely out of the moment, but he does have to pull over to the side of the moment's road. ]
Don't worry, I came prepared. I should've been a boy scout, dead ass. [ tbf, he is rather proud of himself for including lube with his toothbrush, throw blanket, and coffee mug on the "things i'll bring to spruce up the apartment" list. (but he doesn't immediately move to grab it. why would he when he can just keep his hands on bucky's hips just a little bit longer?) ]
Unless you really wanted to bring guns into this? Seems kind of early for it, though...
[ as in: not opposed, he just figured maybe there would be some steps along the way 😂 😭 ]
Nah, it's good. I remembered because I was thinking of stuff to bring anyway.
[ he snorts as he finally pulls away to rifle around in his bag for the lube. luckily it doesn't take long, because his bag was already on the floor next to the counter. and to think, if bucky had a couch, it would have added maybe half a minute to this process, which would be unacceptable. ]
You think? [ this train of thinking gets him off-task again, and leaves him passing the bottle back and forth between his hands, fidgeting. ] I was joking about the boy scout thing, but maybe? Probably. I was kind of sensitive, I guess, and I followed my sister around a lot. I was always sneaking and getting into things. Like, my baba called me lisenok. And then after about eight, I was kind of a shithead, so.
( listening earnestly, bucky smiles fondly as alex recounts some of his memories. when alex finishes, he gives a slight nod. )
It's not the scouts thing that really made me think it exactly. I just. Feel like I understand the things that make you you a lot better now, and. And even if you weren't in scouts, you woulda always done your best to be the best friend you could be, right? Being prepared and all that.
I think that matters. And I think that means I would have loved you then, too. Maybe not in the...exact same way as right now, but you would have been very important to me.
[ his mouth slants into a slight, thoughtful frown. he starts off by glancing down at the lube and talking to it more than bucky — ]
I don't think I was always prepared like that, but I know I cared a lot about making other people happy. Until I didn't. I mean, I guess I still did. Even when I started breaking everything, I never hurt people. Just, you know. Doors, windows, walls, anything not glued down somewhere. I was so angry all the time. I still am. Sometimes I still wake up angry, it's like... this big thing inside me that's so big it has nowhere else to go. [ at that point, he does stop to glance at bucky more directly. ]
There's less of it when you're around. It doesn't feel like something that's gonna explode out of my chest as much.
[ having accepted that doing the nasty time is on pause at this point, alex can't help but pry. ]
I feel like you know a lot about what makes me me, but I don't know a lot about what makes you you. Not the kid stuff. Like, what were you like as a kid? Is it too painful to think about or do you figure it's all in a museum doing the speaking for you?
( the way alex looks away pointedly as he goes into detail is sobering, and a pool of shame fills his stomach as bucky regrets raising the matter. it's not that he think he understands alex any less, of course, but the fact that alex has so many bad emotions tied to his past is probably good reason he shouldn't have raised it. should never raise it. something beautiful and warm was broken down until it couldn't even recognize itself anymore, and bucky can't change that, no matter how warmly he thinks on who that child was. )
Sorry, I didn't mean to make you remember stuff like that. ( he looks away guiltily, unable to meet alex's gaze. ) Not trying to derail things either, I promise. I just. Had a feeling.
( and wanted to share it. like an idiot. )
It's not painful, but most people don't want to talk about it, so I never bring it up. The museum doesn't have much about me either other than my war record. And most of the...biographies have a lot of random shit wrong.
Just because I suck at feelings doesn't mean you shouldn't share yours. I like your feelings.
[ it's true, they took a detour from all that sex they were about to have, but it's not like anyone ever asks alex about stuff like this. maybe it hurts a little, but it's a good kind of hurt. a healthy one, like ripping off a bandaid. ]
I wanna hear about it. [ returning to closeness, he uses his free hand to trace along the curve of bucky's arm — delicate again. overthinking it again, maybe. ] Not right now, unless you want to. But I wanna know stuff about you. The little stuff, not just... whatever.
( oh. cautiously, he looks back to meet alex's gaze again, the contact against his arm soothing away the worries quickly and effectively. his expression is earnest, even if a bit apologetic, as he tries to convey that safety he feels. )
This is what I mean. About feeling safe. You. You always know what to say.
( reaching up, he cups alex's cheek lightly, smooths his thumb against the curve of bone. )
I love you. ( it must be said first. ) And. I wanna tell you about it. ( a bright smile, shy as much as it is intense. ) All of it. Later, but I do.
I'm pretty sure you're the only person ever who thinks I know the right things to say. [ the thought gets a soft half-chuckle. ]
[ there's more alex wants to say, wants to think of asking, but instead, the i love you hits. if it's not the first time hearing it in person, it's the first time hearing it that way, when he's already feeling emotionally exposed and raw. it makes his stomach lurch, his entire nervous system jump like he just missed a stair on the staircase. is this the falling part of falling for someone?
his genius plan is to press himself against bucky until they're tightly slotted against each other again, so he can hide the way his eyes start to water. see? he's kissing bucky's neck again. everything is normal. (he's still holding the lube in one hand like "idk i guess i'm just carrying this around now...") ]
I love you, too.
Edited (i lied i decided i like it more this way) 2024-07-28 03:56 (UTC)
( he can sense the sorrow, even without alex saying anything further on it. a masked feeling of inadequacy lingers clearly in the explanation, one that bucky knows probably haunts alex on the regular. when alex shifts closer, hides his face away and holds on tightly, bucky wraps his arms firmly around to reassert his presence, not just a figure but a mind that feels just as deeply. )
I'm here. ( small circles are traced by his palm against alex's back. ) And you're here, too.
[ why is it the smallest gestures that end up breaking him? all alex was trying to do was hide his face and take a moment to compose himself, and instead he is spiraling out in the other direction. if i'm here by itself wasn't enough to send him over the edge, the rubbing his back in reassurance does it.
sometimes — not often, but sometimes — he feels like he turned 17 and ended up stuck there, just sort of skulking around the world like a street cat who has no business living outside. (yep, just like the homely cat.) and it's really annoying to one part of him — his exterior, who thrives on being cool and confident and really thought they were about to fuck right now — is crumbling while the feral teenager part of him is having a cry. it's not full ugly snot crying yet, but it's hard to miss that's what he's doing from the shakiness of his breathing and the watery way he mumbles — ]
( ah. the watery sound in alex's breath strikes his core, and rather than say anything further, his arms tighten instinctively as he leans his weight into alex's entire form. there's a deep, deep pain that's been unearthed, and bucky refuses to let it struggle for bearing, insisting on refuge despite all other logic that might make itself known.
pressed staunchly against alex's frame, bucky takes noticeable breaths, long and deep, as his torso shifts with the weight of each give and take. "i'm here," he seems to be saying. "i'm right here with you. it's okay. i won't let you fall." )
[ it just keeps going. instead of offering any words or actions he could cling to in an attempt to create humor and deflect from feeling, bucky is here just giving him a full-body press. all it does is make him want to cry even more, which feels paradoxical, but it isn't.
it's stopping and having to assess the damage making it worse. like a child getting hurt and remaining unaware of how to react until an adult asks if they're okay.
but instead of words, bucky's body language — his breathing — is what's saying that it's okay, that he's safe. all that to say stopping crying is outside of his current realm of control. his body is a cage for all that long-buried trauma trying to get out. he presses his face into bucky's shirt to deposit all the dampness from tears and snot there. dignity is a long-forgotten dream at this point, so? ]
( feeling is more important than burying. at least, that's how he'd always thought, before. it's strange, remembering this sensation again after so many years of playing by a different rulebook, but if someone is willing to let bucky in, then caring is what he does best.
when had steve really let him do that after the war? no, don't be bitter. he had his reasons, surely. let it be, barnes.
when he feels alex letting go, bucky continues rubbing alex's back again, asserting that he'll remain here to cradle every fragment alex feels safe enough to let free. they don't need to be anywhere. yes, they will move eventually, but here, right now, this is all alex needs to be concerned with, and everything else can wait. bucky won't let it be any other way. )
[ something absolutely snaps inside alex at this point, a decade-plus of hurt and feeling undeserving of anything just spills over and out of his sinuses. this is not a cute cry right now; he's a whole-ass ugly snot crying and he doesn't know how to make it stop. with anyone besides bucky, he'd be mortified. but anyone besides bucky wouldn't be as good at making him feel safe enough to break down in the first place, so it's a moot point. (the lube bottle thuds to the floor in the middle of all this.)
but, eventually, (after several minutes) he's wrung himself out enough to find composure. when his very damp face is pressed against the shoulder of bucky's shirt, all he can hear is his own breathing. ]
I'm sorry I freaked out on you. I dunno why I did that. It was just... it came out of nowhere. Then I couldn't stop.
( his hold remains solemn, steady. whatever he feels hasn't changed just because the moment has shifted. all that remains is to sail forth, and he will not let there be sinking in these waves. )
Don't be sorry for feeling, Alexander. Never be sorry for feeling. ( curling in closer, his nose nuzzles gently to alex's neck. ) No one can swallow an ocean and recognize the land underneath.
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huffing nervously against alex's cheek, bucky smiles after a moment, nudging gently against alex's ear with his nose. )
Sweet talker.
( but it seems to have done the trick. whatever had been bothering him seems long forgotten now, bucky's grasp shifting to be more intimate and less reactionary before he turns further to brush his lips against alex's cheek. )
Thanks.
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do not say something stupid. do not say something stupid. every cell in his body is chanting for him to not fuck this up by talking about anything tangible, especially fucking furniture —
it becomes a non-issue when bucky is the one kissing him, though. receiving attention he didn't initiate from someone he actually cares about? even when it's relatively — comparatively — minor? still makes his insides nervously twist around. he kisses him again, still keeping things mouth-centric, biting at bucky's lip as he puts .005 centimeters of space between them to breathe. his mind is as blank as the clear blue sky. ]
Uh-huh. I missed you, so...
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Missed you, too, ( he breathes, barely able to speak with more force with the wind having been pulled straight from his lungs. ) You always know how to make everything okay.
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but, again, he's not crying right now. right now, alex is mouthing along the curve of bucky's neck. calculating the best place to make a hickey? maybe. shh, don't worry about it. mumbled against his skin, breath hot — ] Yeah? You, too.
[ he wants to say more, more about how he makes him feel safe and protected and more comfortable being himself than anyone else, but the word don't come — or at least, they barely cross his mind before being immediately thrown out for being detracting. ]
I'm the most me when I'm with you. [ he punctuates this by licking his neck, apparently one of those "most me" things. ]
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S. Starting to feel that way, too, I think.
( backed against the counter, his hips roll forward slightly to press up against alex. )
All these parts of me that I forgot, but you didn't mind waiting to find. I feel safe, when I'm with you.
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anyway — those are all very nice thoughts, but they pass through like a light breeze when more important things are happening, like the the way licking turns into biting along the curve of the other's neck and shoulder. ]
Uh-huh. [another kiss ending with his teeth needling into bucky's shoulder, followed by — ] You're worth waiting for, though.
[ it's true. imagine getting to know someone before initiating anything physical? and caring about them first? alex would've said "sounds fake" until now, after all this.
(related: if this man does not stop trying to roll his hips against him?? being tired and gross does nothing to dissuade the prospect of Getting Some; anyone who says otherwise is weak and a coward.) ]
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I never would have thought. Or known. Without you.
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I can take my shirt off if it's a problem, y'know. Or more. Or...?
[ the last "or" is punctuated by both hands moving to bucky's sides and moving lower... lower... to the waistband of his pants. ]
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Best I've got is gun oil.
( which sounds more like a suggestion than an excuse. )
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Don't worry, I came prepared. I should've been a boy scout, dead ass. [ tbf, he is rather proud of himself for including lube with his toothbrush, throw blanket, and coffee mug on the "things i'll bring to spruce up the apartment" list. (but he doesn't immediately move to grab it. why would he when he can just keep his hands on bucky's hips just a little bit longer?) ]
Unless you really wanted to bring guns into this? Seems kind of early for it, though...
[ as in: not opposed, he just figured maybe there would be some steps along the way 😂 😭 ]
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Glad you came prepared though. Usually, I'd be in the same boat, but it's new territory and all that, right? So.
Well, anyway. I bet we woulda gotten along, as kids. Maybe even best friends.
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[ he snorts as he finally pulls away to rifle around in his bag for the lube. luckily it doesn't take long, because his bag was already on the floor next to the counter. and to think, if bucky had a couch, it would have added maybe half a minute to this process, which would be unacceptable. ]
You think? [ this train of thinking gets him off-task again, and leaves him passing the bottle back and forth between his hands, fidgeting. ] I was joking about the boy scout thing, but maybe? Probably. I was kind of sensitive, I guess, and I followed my sister around a lot. I was always sneaking and getting into things. Like, my baba called me lisenok. And then after about eight, I was kind of a shithead, so.
[ this took such a turn??? and yet..... ]
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It's not the scouts thing that really made me think it exactly. I just. Feel like I understand the things that make you you a lot better now, and. And even if you weren't in scouts, you woulda always done your best to be the best friend you could be, right? Being prepared and all that.
I think that matters. And I think that means I would have loved you then, too. Maybe not in the...exact same way as right now, but you would have been very important to me.
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I don't think I was always prepared like that, but I know I cared a lot about making other people happy. Until I didn't. I mean, I guess I still did. Even when I started breaking everything, I never hurt people. Just, you know. Doors, windows, walls, anything not glued down somewhere. I was so angry all the time. I still am. Sometimes I still wake up angry, it's like... this big thing inside me that's so big it has nowhere else to go. [ at that point, he does stop to glance at bucky more directly. ]
There's less of it when you're around. It doesn't feel like something that's gonna explode out of my chest as much.
[ having accepted that doing the nasty time is on pause at this point, alex can't help but pry. ]
I feel like you know a lot about what makes me me, but I don't know a lot about what makes you you. Not the kid stuff. Like, what were you like as a kid? Is it too painful to think about or do you figure it's all in a museum doing the speaking for you?
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Sorry, I didn't mean to make you remember stuff like that. ( he looks away guiltily, unable to meet alex's gaze. ) Not trying to derail things either, I promise. I just. Had a feeling.
( and wanted to share it. like an idiot. )
It's not painful, but most people don't want to talk about it, so I never bring it up. The museum doesn't have much about me either other than my war record. And most of the...biographies have a lot of random shit wrong.
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[ it's true, they took a detour from all that sex they were about to have, but it's not like anyone ever asks alex about stuff like this. maybe it hurts a little, but it's a good kind of hurt. a healthy one, like ripping off a bandaid. ]
I wanna hear about it. [ returning to closeness, he uses his free hand to trace along the curve of bucky's arm — delicate again. overthinking it again, maybe. ] Not right now, unless you want to. But I wanna know stuff about you. The little stuff, not just... whatever.
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This is what I mean. About feeling safe. You. You always know what to say.
( reaching up, he cups alex's cheek lightly, smooths his thumb against the curve of bone. )
I love you. ( it must be said first. ) And. I wanna tell you about it. ( a bright smile, shy as much as it is intense. ) All of it. Later, but I do.
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[ there's more alex wants to say, wants to think of asking, but instead, the i love you hits. if it's not the first time hearing it in person, it's the first time hearing it that way, when he's already feeling emotionally exposed and raw. it makes his stomach lurch, his entire nervous system jump like he just missed a stair on the staircase. is this the falling part of falling for someone?
his genius plan is to press himself against bucky until they're tightly slotted against each other again, so he can hide the way his eyes start to water. see? he's kissing bucky's neck again. everything is normal. (he's still holding the lube in one hand like "idk i guess i'm just carrying this around now...") ]
I love you, too.
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I'm here. ( small circles are traced by his palm against alex's back. ) And you're here, too.
Everything's okay now.
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sometimes — not often, but sometimes — he feels like he turned 17 and ended up stuck there, just sort of skulking around the world like a street cat who has no business living outside. (yep, just like the homely cat.) and it's really annoying to one part of him — his exterior, who thrives on being cool and confident and really thought they were about to fuck right now — is crumbling while the feral teenager part of him is having a cry. it's not full ugly snot crying yet, but it's hard to miss that's what he's doing from the shakiness of his breathing and the watery way he mumbles — ]
I know.
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pressed staunchly against alex's frame, bucky takes noticeable breaths, long and deep, as his torso shifts with the weight of each give and take. "i'm here," he seems to be saying. "i'm right here with you. it's okay. i won't let you fall." )
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it's stopping and having to assess the damage making it worse. like a child getting hurt and remaining unaware of how to react until an adult asks if they're okay.
but instead of words, bucky's body language — his breathing — is what's saying that it's okay, that he's safe. all that to say stopping crying is outside of his current realm of control. his body is a cage for all that long-buried trauma trying to get out. he presses his face into bucky's shirt to deposit all the dampness from tears and snot there. dignity is a long-forgotten dream at this point, so? ]
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when had steve really let him do that after the war? no, don't be bitter. he had his reasons, surely. let it be, barnes.when he feels alex letting go, bucky continues rubbing alex's back again, asserting that he'll remain here to cradle every fragment alex feels safe enough to let free. they don't need to be anywhere. yes, they will move eventually, but here, right now, this is all alex needs to be concerned with, and everything else can wait. bucky won't let it be any other way. )
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but, eventually, (after several minutes) he's wrung himself out enough to find composure. when his very damp face is pressed against the shoulder of bucky's shirt, all he can hear is his own breathing. ]
I'm sorry I freaked out on you. I dunno why I did that. It was just... it came out of nowhere. Then I couldn't stop.
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Don't be sorry for feeling, Alexander. Never be sorry for feeling. ( curling in closer, his nose nuzzles gently to alex's neck. ) No one can swallow an ocean and recognize the land underneath.
You weren't freaking out. You were purging a sea.
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