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.
[ there it is again. "it" being bucky saying something so deeply sincere that alex's initial reaction is usually "babe that's cheesy," only now that initial reaction voice is strangely silent. there's no energy for it right now; all the crying left him feeling raw and hollowed out. even when never be sorry for feeling would have sent him on an encore crying jag, there's no more liquid in his body to be used for crying. ]
Well, it was a fuckin'... shitty fuckin' sea. [ he shifts slightly to allow bucky better access to his neck. what if alex absorbed all forms of affection right how while clinging like a limpet? ] I'm not saying sorry, I just wish I was better at being normal.
( with more room, bucky kisses gently along the curve of alex's neck, trying to distract from the raw emptiness of the tank. )
Not sure I really know what normal is anymore either, though, ( he breathes against the skin, then humming and nipping gently to mimic alex's earlier gesture, though much more playfully. )
[ alex gasps sharply — like, he knew what bucky was about to be doing, and something about the sensation still manages to take him by surprise. no, that's not true, not exactly. he'd mentally prepared for kissing, not biting. how nice it is to receive??? it takes him a second to collect his word, thanks to the way the attention to his neck makes him blue screen. ]
There's probably no such thing. You know? Maybe I wish I was better at being better.
( humming gently, he nips again, a little harder, as his left hand shifts to draw up the edge of alex's shirt along his back. )
I think we all wish that one. Even on the good days. ( his lips brush against skin as he speaks, not wanting to draw away. ) But you're right. Normal doesn't exist. It's just the average of what we think it means to be a person.
And being the average means that all the unique things that make each person them aren't there anymore.
[ oh shit dude, he's just going for it. it being pulling at his shirt. (bucky was right — the temperature of the vibranium isn't really different from human skin, but the texture is different enough to give him half of a half-pause. time to ignore it in favor of focusing on more neck things. (part of him is like should i be a more active participant in this display of affection? no, he cried himself stupid, he earned his pillow queen rights.) ]
Mm... yeah, I get all the beauty in being fucked up and the unique stuff that makes us ourselves. [ he sniffs, only to realize damn, he is still pretty congested. ] I could be a little less of myself though. I think I cried out like 80% of the water in me, so I guess that's a start.
( nipping again, he teases the skin with his tongue to carefully draw out a light bruise as his other hand slips under alex's shirt to press against skin. it'll let alex have something to focus on later, once the feelings settle more, but for now, bucky hopes the distraction helps as well. )
You're not fucked up, Alexander. The back of every tapestry is an utter mess but that's just part of making a beautiful picture or pattern.
( he rubs alex's back gently, trying to sooth him again. )
I want you to be yourself. Whatever that means for you. Because that's who I love.
[ this time his sharp intake of breath elevates to more of a gasp, almost a moan. who has time for thoughts — sad or otherwise — when bucky's mouth is on his skin like that and he knows it's going to bruise, but the idea of it is kind of exciting? ]
Oh shit, have you ever turned socks with patterns on them inside out? Those shits are crazy. They've got nightmare fuel back there. You've got Hello Kitty on one side and fuckin'... Cthulhu underneath it.
[ which isn't necessarily him agreeing that he himself is a beautiful pattern, but it's progress. just like the tension draining out of his back as bucky continues massaging it. (every time he does, it reminds him of how tense and knotted it had been before. almost like a microcosm of the events that just unfolded.) ]
( bucky's too busy sucking against alex's skin to answer, but he does offer a playful hum as he eventually draws off with a faint pop, panting faintly for breath. )
You tellin' me you went for the Hello Kitty hiding Cthulhu instead of the Cthulhu hiding Hello Kitty?
( he chuckles faintly, leaning in to nudge at the reddened skin with his nose. )
[ he snorts a laugh. this man is such a nerd and so charming and giving him a hickey and it makes his heart so full 😭 ]
I love you, dude. James. [ and because some of us have a unique and incredible talent to stay horny through the pain — especially when the other half of "us" is dedicated to necking him — ]
Alexander— ( the response is instinctive, just from the way alex says his name. he then presses even closer, as if they aren't already so thoroughly pressed up against each other. his mind craves more, and it's the only action it thinks to take, in the moment.
luckily, alex chooses to prod further, regardless of his lack of finishing sentences. )
Fuckin' sick. [ <- the real mr. darcy over here, apparently. alex peels away from bucky — barely and as briefly as possible — to grab the lube container that fell to the floor during his emotional upheaval. literally he takes .05 seconds before returning to being stuck on bucky like a magnet. ]
Aw, you spruced shit up because you knew I was coming.
[ alex starts to step towards the bed, but it's really more of a half-step... and that's it. it's still a kind of upside down feeling to question if he should be leading. even though his instinct is to walk in and go "hi, i'm here, this is now my home and my world and you're just living in it," a combo of being in a new place and overwhelming soft feelings make him take a little pause.
that said, it's hard to deny that he's currently turned on by the idea of getting to be a (bossy) pillow queen and get railed to sleep after his escape from connecticut and meltdown that wouldn't end. ]
Well, seemed better than letting you wonder if I never do the laundry.
( bucky senses the hesitance and understands immediately. alex has never been to the apartment before, so it's normal to also feel unfamiliar, even without being a guest. reaching for alex's hand, bucky takes his own full step back, giving alex a reassuring smile as he tugs gently to lead on.
it's okay, he wants to say but refrains, expecting it'd take them both out of the moment too much. )
[ handholding seems like such a small intimacy comparatively, especially when it's just to lead him around the apartment, but that's what makes the warm feeling blossom in alex's chest. the feeling that just sort of settles in around bucky and doesn't stop, something softly frenetic. like glitter and pop rocks, maybe.
not saying it's okay is the right move — he'd probably cry again and he's trying to stop sounding sniffly, damn. ]
Dude, I would never wonder that. In my head you've got like three outfits that you instantly wash after wearing. Not in a bad way, just... y'know, you're kinda tidy and minimalist and shit.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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Well, it was a fuckin'... shitty fuckin' sea. [ he shifts slightly to allow bucky better access to his neck. what if alex absorbed all forms of affection right how while clinging like a limpet? ] I'm not saying sorry, I just wish I was better at being normal.
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Not sure I really know what normal is anymore either, though, ( he breathes against the skin, then humming and nipping gently to mimic alex's earlier gesture, though much more playfully. )
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There's probably no such thing. You know? Maybe I wish I was better at being better.
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I think we all wish that one. Even on the good days. ( his lips brush against skin as he speaks, not wanting to draw away. ) But you're right. Normal doesn't exist. It's just the average of what we think it means to be a person.
And being the average means that all the unique things that make each person them aren't there anymore.
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Mm... yeah, I get all the beauty in being fucked up and the unique stuff that makes us ourselves. [ he sniffs, only to realize damn, he is still pretty congested. ] I could be a little less of myself though. I think I cried out like 80% of the water in me, so I guess that's a start.
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You're not fucked up, Alexander. The back of every tapestry is an utter mess but that's just part of making a beautiful picture or pattern.
( he rubs alex's back gently, trying to sooth him again. )
I want you to be yourself. Whatever that means for you. Because that's who I love.
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Oh shit, have you ever turned socks with patterns on them inside out? Those shits are crazy. They've got nightmare fuel back there. You've got Hello Kitty on one side and fuckin'... Cthulhu underneath it.
[ which isn't necessarily him agreeing that he himself is a beautiful pattern, but it's progress. just like the tension draining out of his back as bucky continues massaging it. (every time he does, it reminds him of how tense and knotted it had been before. almost like a microcosm of the events that just unfolded.) ]
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You tellin' me you went for the Hello Kitty hiding Cthulhu instead of the Cthulhu hiding Hello Kitty?
( he chuckles faintly, leaning in to nudge at the reddened skin with his nose. )
Cute. You're cute, Alexander. I adore you.
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[ he snorts a laugh. this man is such a nerd and so charming and giving him a hickey and it makes his heart so full 😭 ]
I love you, dude. James. [ and because some of us have a unique and incredible talent to stay horny through the pain — especially when the other half of "us" is dedicated to necking him — ]
Hey, did you still want...
[ finish the sentence? no, why would he. ]
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luckily, alex chooses to prod further, regardless of his lack of finishing sentences. )
Yes. Yes. I do. I want you. I missed you.
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Your bed, right?
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Yeah. The one I don't usually use. I changed the sheets. ( that somehow feels like an important detail. )
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[ alex starts to step towards the bed, but it's really more of a half-step... and that's it. it's still a kind of upside down feeling to question if he should be leading. even though his instinct is to walk in and go "hi, i'm here, this is now my home and my world and you're just living in it," a combo of being in a new place and overwhelming soft feelings make him take a little pause.
that said, it's hard to deny that he's currently turned on by the idea of getting to be a (bossy) pillow queen and get railed to sleep after his escape from connecticut and meltdown that wouldn't end. ]
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( bucky senses the hesitance and understands immediately. alex has never been to the apartment before, so it's normal to also feel unfamiliar, even without being a guest. reaching for alex's hand, bucky takes his own full step back, giving alex a reassuring smile as he tugs gently to lead on.
it's okay, he wants to say but refrains, expecting it'd take them both out of the moment too much. )
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not saying it's okay is the right move — he'd probably cry again and he's trying to stop sounding sniffly, damn. ]
Dude, I would never wonder that. In my head you've got like three outfits that you instantly wash after wearing. Not in a bad way, just... y'know, you're kinda tidy and minimalist and shit.
(no subject)