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 In Plain Sight, tag: bucky / remy

Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 4 2018, 11:48 AM
It there was anything that was precious to Steve Rogers, it was his quiet moments alone. All the time, when he wasn't hiding away and trying to erase and help one of the most important people to him, he was expected to behave a certain way, to command a presence. He was Captain America and he had to behave like he was the picture of freedom, the beacon of hope for a nation in turmoil. But now, he didn't need to do that. He wasn't on display for the world to see and, even though he wasn't helping people or fighting, he liked the down time. It made him realize that he wasn't just this super hero, this figure that people looked up to. Deep down, he was still just a kid from Brooklyn who loved his mother, hated bullies, and drew the world as he saw it. After coming out of the ice, he'd been so lost, he hadn't really known what he'd wanted or how to handle things. He was thrown into this world and, a world that saw him as a legend and had coped without him. It was the quiet moments, just like this, when he'd picked up a pencil again and started drawing. Over the years, he'd collected tattered notebook upon notebook, filled to the brim with sketches, some better than others, but they all held meaning. Memories, feelings, it was the only real way for Steve to get his emotions out without having to broadcast them to anyone and everyone. They were personal and private and they'd helped him keep his head as level as possible.

Today planned to be no different than any other day as of late for Steve. He'd woken up, feeling a bit off, so, he cracked open a sketch book, they'd come a long ways since he'd first started drawing, and got to work, letting his mind take him wherever it wanted to go. About halfway through, he grumbled to himself and didn't like how it was coming out. The eyes weren't right, the hands seemed wrong, it just wasn't turning out how he'd pictured it would. Though he'd never want to admit it, Steve was a bit on the, well, short tempered side and when this picture wasn't working, he started off gentle, rubbing the eraser against the paper, and by the time he was finished, he'd practically made a whole where the hands should have been. It was a disaster and now, there was no saving it. He took the paper and shoved it back into his sketch book and leaned his head against the wall, as he'd been sitting on the ground. He threw the sketchbook to the side and, after a few more grumbles, he got to his feet and stretched out his body, having been cramped up for a little too long. So much for drawing a nice picture.

Steve looked around the room for a moment before he left it, heading out into the cramped living quarters he'd been sharing with Bucky. Hiding in plain sight had been their action and, so far, it was working. Folding his arms across his chest, he huffed a little before he fell into the couch, keeping his eyes straight ahead for a moment before he turned to look over at Bucky. They'd been through so much and yet here they were. I'm with you until the end of the line was something that Steve had taken seriously back then and, even now, after all this years, it still rung true. "What're you thinking?" he asked, unable to keep the silence up anymore. He knew a lot of things ran through Bucky's head, bad things, but he also knew that there was good in him. Bucky wasn't a villain and he'd never be. He was a victim and the sooner they could find that book and destroy it, the better off both of them would be. He kept his eyes on Bucky and felt a sort of adoration towards him, something he'd known was always there inside of him and he was finally able to see clearly. Every day with Bucky, even the bad ones, were better than any days without him.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 4 2018, 07:06 PM


Bucky Barnes was not used to waiting for information. Actually, that wasn't true, he had waited for intel in the army plenty of times. Usually when it came rolling in, however, it was by the truck full and they had to spend hours or even days trying to sort through what was and wasn't a false lead so they could move. Detail orientated minds like his had been crucial to that. The Winter Soldier, however, had never had to wait for anything. He was typically only brought out after the intelligence was gathered, and if he needed something his handlers dropped what they were doing and got it for him.

This was literal torture.

Weeks now he'd been able to do nothing but sit on his hands and wait. Every attempt to contact his, well, contact had been met with 'give it time', 'I'm still looking into it', or 'patience is a virtue' in decoded Russian and it put his nerves on edge. He didn't like to just sit and be useless, he wanted to do something. He needed to do something.

Considering his six am wake up had been the thing he never lost from the army he'd gotten up, checked for any new information, and found himself curled up in the corner of the small couch with his head tilted to rest against the back. He just didn't know what else to do. He was stuck sitting here in this tiny apartment in Jersey of all places -it made his Brooklyn born soul ache a little bit- until something happened.

Steve coming to sit down beside him was what finally snapped him out of his own head, where he'd been silently going through the list of contacts he didn't remember memorizing and trying to determine if they were his or theirs. "I'm thinking this is taking too long." He turned his head to look at Steve who just looked frustrated, "Sketch not turn out?" He didn't know why he knew that was what that particular scowl meant, but he did.



Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 4 2018, 07:28 PM
If anyone knew how hard it was to be patient, Steve understood. It was taking too long, but there was absolutely nothing that either of them could do about it. It wasn't going to be an easy fix and find, he'd known that from the start, and as much as he wanted it to be over, he knew it wouldn't be right away. "I know, but we've got to be patient. They know what they're doing. We've just gotta trust them for now. If it doesn't work out, we try something else." No one wanted this to be over, aside from Bucky himself, more than Steve. He wanted to see that smile return to his friend's face, that smile he'd fallen in love with, and that smile he'd missed.

Steve let out a frustrated sigh and nodded his head, turning away for a second and looking at the wall in front of them. "The hands, they weren't turning out and the eyes just didn't work. I hate it when, in my head, I can see an image clearly, but I just can't get it right," he said, knowing that he was definitely over reacting. It was a sketch. It meant nothing. No one would see it and no one would care if it wasn't perfect. But Steve cared and, every single time he drew something from the past, he always wanted it to be just as he remembered it. It then dawned on him what Bucky had said. How had he known what Steve was doing? The apartment was a complete shithole and small enough, but he certainly couldn't have heard him. Maybe, just maybe, it was something from the past that was coming up in his head, but Steve didn't question it. It slowly made his frustration melt away and be replaced by some form of contentment. Maybe Bucky was remembering something, a look that Steve would have or the attitude he got when things didn't go his way. In all aspects of, well, everything, Bucky had always known Stever better than he knew himself. Steve had been getting shown glimpses of it over the time they'd recently spent together, hauled up in this apartment, but they really didn't talk about things. They just were and as much as Steve wanted to be okay with that, he couldn't help but want more. Being in this place made him yearn for the days back in Brooklyn when Bucky would wrap his arms around him at night to keep him warm from the cold, but that was another lifetime ago and he wasn't even sure if Bucky remembered that in the slightest bit.

Steve turned his gaze from the wall over to Bucky and studied his features, those familiar blue eyes he'd grown to love. It scared him to think about how he felt, but it definitely didn't scare him enough to keep him from showing affection in different ways, since, he was still weary about how Bucky would react to being touched or held on a regular basis. It was all a learning game again, learning each other and learning to trust. "Remember our place in Brooklyn? That place seemed like a castle compared to this. It was drafty and smelled like old wood, but, Jersey? I know it's gotta be eating you up like it is to me." He knew why they were hiding out, Steve was still a war criminal, a wanted man, and he'd eventually turn himself in, but for now, this was their reality and as much as he hated Jersey, he loved being around Bucky. Bucky wasn't just a link to his past, he was so much more than that. He'd choose Bucky over anyone and anything and he'd made that very clear. It'd taken losing Bucky, watching him fall from that train, for him to realize what had been right in front of him all along.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 4 2018, 08:00 PM


"Patient." He spat the word like it might make him sick. He'd waited what, seventy-something years to be free of that damn book? True a few weeks was nothing next to literal decades, but it felt like an eternity. Was that a thing he worried about though?

His eyes drifted off Steve because now he was second-guessing himself again. He realized he was doing that pretty quickly, even before Siberia, he thought of things and just knew things and he felt himself doubt it in the back of his mind, like it wasn't the way he was supposed to be. It was hard living with someone that actually knew you better than you knew yourself after all.

Bucky watched the way Steve reacted when he talked about the sketch, about it being wrong, and he shook his head a little. That seemed right, familiar, he knew he'd seen him get like this a hundred, hundred times, but he didn't remember exactly when or how. "You'll get it. You always do." How many times had they sat somewhere and Bucky had gone off to play soccer or work or whatever he'd been doing at the time, and he'd come back to see a small crumpled pile of papers next to Steve's smaller self, proclaiming he'd finally figured out the shading on that building over there or the way the light passed through that particular tree? He didn't know, honestly, but it felt like it had happened an awful lot.

"I'd take a shotgun tenement over Jersey any day of the week." He remembered things, not reasons or whys, it without context, but the things were still there. The half leaning walls, the windows on the inside that served no purpose but to comply with building codes, the fact that there was a kitchen and bathroom in the same area so half the time the kitchen table was little more than a slab of wood over the bathtub. They had that, didn't they? In the apparently that they'd shared? "We could eat off the bathtub."



Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 4 2018, 08:27 PM
Steve's face practically lit up when Bucky mentioned eating off the bathtub. Oh, wow, did Steve remember that. The flimsy piece of wood he'd taken from their neighbor for the sole purpose of having a kitchen table. The small bedroom that they both shared, Steve's small body curled up with Bucky's arms around him to keep him warm. And, how many times did he had to be practically dragged into that bathtub to get his fever to come down? It had to have been hundred of times. Back when he only weighed about one hundred pounds, if that. Back then even the slightest cold could set into a fever that would leave him on the brink of death. Steve fought like a champ, though. He'd never given up and he never really admitted he needed help until he had to, which, had left Bucky annoyed quite often. He would take that place over this one any day of the week, though. Not the pain he'd went through when he would get sick or the fear of not waking up due to his fever overcoming his body, but that place had always felt like home to him and always would. "Right, we could. We'd need to steal a piece of wood from someone, though," he said, a slight teasing tone present in his voice. He really wondered if Bucky had loved him back then, back when he was more a liability than anything else. He doubted it, but then again, why would he have stayed around?

Steve leaned his head back a little and rested it on the back of the couch, smiling a little as he looked over at Bucky. A man who'd been through so much that it made Steve sick to think about. "It's all gonna work out, you know that? I know if feels like it isn't and waiting sucks, but it'll all be worth the wait," he said, softly, as he kept his eyes on Bucky. He wanted so badly to be in his arms again, to feel like his Bucky was back. That was what someone had said to him. Your Bucky. But that was before this whole mess, before they'd taken refuge in this shithole. It wasn't exactly ideal, but it made due and, really, as long as Bucky was around, Steve felt like things were going to be okay. He didn't know why Bucky had that power over him, but he did and he probably always would.

Steve's sketch long forgotten, he shook his head and let out a soft breath, looking away for a moment. He'd heard Bucky say something about getting it right and it just hit Steve how familiar it sounded. Many, many times he'd stay at the apartment in Brooklyn, working to perfect a sketch, to make it worthwhile, because, at the time, drawing was really Steve's only talent. And Bucky had remembered what he'd said. Or maybe he was just saying it out of habit? "You used to say that to me all the time, you know?" he said, looking back over at Bucky and keeping a small smile on his features. "You're remembering more things, aren't you?" Steve moved on the couch a little, moving closer to Bucky, but trying not to get too close to make him feel uncomfortable. It was hard to imagine the person he loved not wanting to be too close to him, but things weren't as black and white as they'd been before. He just had to be gradual with things, that was all.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 4 2018, 09:19 PM


He got half a smile at the suggestion they should steal some wood from somewhere. He was sure they could find a piece of plywood somewhere but it wasn't the kind of thing they probably wanted to bring inside. As shit as this place was it was.... doable for the time being. He'd been in worse places he was sure. He would have given anything to be able to go back to that tiny apartment and their bathtub table, even before all of this.

When Steve tried to reassure him his head rolled so he was looking up at the ceiling again instead of at the other man, watching the ceiling tiles like they were somehow interesting. "Yeah, I know." Even he wasn't entirely sure he believed that. "I just... I dunno." He wasn't good at being upset in a vocal sense. He was more likely to brood and paint a smile on for anyone that asked about him.

The way Steve moved had Bucky looking over at him and he was all but struck by that little smile. How long had it been since he'd actually seen the other man happy? Sure he was happy about things here and there but that look? It hurt a little. "Yeah." He said like he was agreeing with it, like that was what was happening, like half of this wasn't just his body and whatever was left of his mind on repeat. He felt his face force a sort of neutral blank, like he wasn't suddenly worried he was doing it wrong again. That he would disappoint the other man.

Steve shifted a little closer and he dropped his head back again to stare at the ceiling. He was always acutely aware of where people were in relation to him anymore, but he never worried about Steve. Other people could be threats, but not Steve. "I know things there's just no frame of reference." He could point to the dozens and dozens of pages he'd written about everything he remembered, notebooks tucked away in a backpack again, but this time where he hopefully wouldn't lose them if he had to leave. The most fragmented and scattered of them was the one he kept tucked under the mattress on the floor he slept on and that was where he sorted out the things he could remember about before. He even had little post-it tabs to help him sort things by color, because apparently, HYDRA couldn't brainwash the nerd out of him. "I'm sorry."

Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 5 2018, 07:14 AM
Steve watched as Bucky threw his head back against the couch, obviously in annoyance at the entire situation. He wished there was a way for him to speed this up, to get that book and destroy it right then and there, but he couldn't. There was nothing he could do but wait for them to come through with leads. They needed leads. "I know it's hard, but it's gonna be worth the wait," he said, keeping his eyes still on Bucky, who seemed to be studying the ceiling. After moving closer to the other man, he wanted to touch him, to reassure him, Steve always would do that, but he kept his hands to himself. Getting closer had made an impact on Bucky, he didn't want to press his luck. He wished there was a way for them to sneak out, to do something fun and carefree for a change, but they were both wanted men and the less daylight they were out in, the better.

When Steve was first unthawed, things were so fresh in his mind that he was certain he'd miraculously made it through the crash without so much as a scratch. But after realizing just the world he'd been brought in to, he wasn't sure what to make of it all. He, at least, had people to help him, but Bucky hadn't. Bucky had been completely alone and Steve was going to make sure that didn't happen again. "Things'll piece together. How else would you have known just how pissed I get when I can't get a sketch right?" he said, softly, not letting the smile leave his face. Bucky always had the ability to make him smile, to make him feel like he wasn't alone in this horrible world. He only hoped that he provided that same support for Bucky as well. They'd been through enough on their own, now they had one another yet again and he wasn't going to waste his time.

Steve's expression changed the minute he heard Bucky apologize. He had absolutely nothing to be sorry for, so, why would he say that? He knew that this was all very difficult, it was difficult for the both of them, and he could see the gradual progress that Bucky was making. Comments about life before, the way he'd make a light joke from time to time, it was all glimpses into the past, glimpses of who Bucky really was and not the mess that Hydra had left him. "You have nothing to apologize for," he said, shaking his head a little and keeping his eyes on Bucky, watching him, looking for familiar mannerisms, ones that couldn't be over looked. "You'll get there. Hell, I didn't even remember the bathtub table until you brought it up. I always hated that tub cause you'd dunk me in it when I'd get a fever." He smiled a little and let out a very small laugh. Things were so much simpler then, part of him wanted to go back. He knew he couldn't, though. This was their reality for the time being and there was no way to fix anything until he could get that damn book back. Bucky deserved to be happy, even if it wasn't with Steve.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 5 2018, 06:47 PM


It would be worth the wait. At this point, he was pretty sure that was one of the only things Steve knew how to say. He knew it would be, he knew Steve was right, but that wasn't the issue. He just didn't want to sit around here waiting. It was Jersey, and that was horrible, but just sitting here in Jersey was worse. He let out a breath and shook his head, "I know I just...." He was flexing his hands, the slight sound of shifting metal a bit distracting, "I hate sitting here and not doing something."

He didn't have the heart to say that he knew it just because he did. Was that horrible of him? To have no idea why he knew that Steve made that face when he drew, that he just instinctively was aware of it? It probably wasn't given the circumstances, but he felt like he should know more than he did. He didn't want to disappoint Steve by not being the Bucky he remembered.

Nothing to apologize for? He had upended what semblance of a life Steve had put together for nothing but his existence. The fight in the Hellacarriers, dragging him out of the river, that was the first thing he'd done that he'd actually chosen to do in fifty years or more, and how did he repay Steve for helping him get out of that? He messed everything up.

Bucky forced a smile on his face as Steve mentioned him dragging him into it. "Well, you were burning up half the time. The other half it was just funny." He still was staring at the ceiling when something struck him, "Did I bring a girl home when you were taking a bath once?" It was like everything else, no idea when it happened or what the circumstances, but he was struck by the idea of him and some girl they knew laughing in the doorway until he could hardly breathe while Steve tried to cover himself.

Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 5 2018, 07:37 PM
"That's nothing we can do. If there was something, you know I'd be the first to jump on it," Steve said, watching Bucky's eyes seemingly study the ceiling as he let out a soft breath. He wanted this to be over with, so that they could get on with their lives and start over, maybe actually get some kind of semblance of joy back into their world, but there was absolutely nothing he could do. He could sit and wait and keep Bucky company. He could sneak out every so often in the middle of the night to hit up the convience store down the road for food and other things they needed. But that was it. Until that book was found, this was their reality and as much as Steve loved being around Bucky and being with him again, he knew it was eating the other man up inside. He could only begin to imagine what torture he'd went through with Hydra and it only seemed to piss Steve off even more. He hated Hydra and everything about them, especially what they'd done to Bucky.

Steve thought for a moment and felt his cheeks heat up a little bit. Had that happened? Maybe it was just something he'd blocked out. "I don't remember that," he said, sounding more like the "old" Steve than he had in a while, an annoyance in his voice. How could he forget? Bucky wasn't interested in him like that. He'd always had girls and there was Steve, always ruining the mood and getting in the way. It wasn't his favorite thing to think about, especially after he'd realized just how much Bucky had meant to him and how much he truly loved the other man. It was scary, but Steve was tired of waiting around. He'd lost Bucky once and he'd lost Peggy, he wasn't going to lose Bucky again. But how, exactly, did someone bring something like this up? Just blurt it out? Wait for the right moment? Steve had no idea. He'd always been terrible with this kind of thing, he'd waited way too long with Peggy as well, and it scared him to think that, at any moment, things could go down and go bad. "I remember you always took care of me and I fought tooth and nail with you every step of the way. I didn't say it then, but I will say it now. I really do appreciate it, Buck." He knew that, in all reality, he wouldn't have made it very long if it hadn't been for Bucky. He'd helped pay for Steve's medicines, he'd always make sure Steve had everything he needed, and, Steve knew that if it hadn't been for this man, there would have never been a Captain America and that was a big deal.

Steve let out a breath and rested his own head back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling and getting the same view as Bucky, curious as to what it was all about. It didn't look like anything special to him, just an ordinary ceiling in a shitty apartment. After a moment, he sat back up and turned to look at Bucky, smiling a little bit as he did so. "You know, I miss that bed we had in Brooklyn. Nothing's ever been as soft as that was and it was probably thin as cardboard." It was nothing special, but at the time, it was. They'd both saved up the money they'd earned and bought the cheapest mattress available, but it was new and it was theirs. He let out a soft laugh and thought to himself, it probably had something to do with the company he was keeping at the time as well, but he wouldn't add that.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 5 2018, 11:38 PM


He didn't have time to dwell on the fact that there was nothing they could do even though Steve was just as eager to do something as he was, they were both going a little stir crazy in this place, and he knew Steve wanted to help. He'd give it another day, and he would worry about it again then. He slid down on the couch a little because there was no point in just sitting there moping, maybe he'd make something to eat.

That look that flashed across Steve's face when he looked over suggested even though he said he didn't remember, he did. So it wasn't just a random thing he was piecing together. He honestly laughed a little, maybe because he'd managed to find something he remembered just enough to latch onto the moment, maybe because of the way Steve was avoiding meeting his gaze. "Oh yeah, I'm sure you don't." That had been a thing then, he wished he knew if it had been a friend or a date, what they'd done, where he'd been before then, but something was better than nothing.

Steve's sudden shift in tone, from the mild embarrassment to actually thanking him for the fact he hadn't just given up on him long before everything happened to them caught him a little by surprise and he shook his head a little, a half smile still stuck to his face. "What'd you think punk? I was just going to let you die on me? Who was I gonna bug if you weren't around?" Steve meant more to him that the other man would ever know, as much as Steve always swore he saved him Bucky was pretty sure without him he wouldn't be here now. In a good way. After all when he got his draft notice he could have run, but what would that have done to Steve who tried so desperately to get into the Army and he had considered running from the thought? Maybe it was normal for him to worry about disappointing Steve.

Bucky felt the questioning look on his face, because he didn't remember the mattress and that irked him. He remembered cooking under blankets every night so Steve wouldn't freeze in the winter but not the mattress or the room. The irony that he woke up with his left arm cold to the touch every day now. "If it was it's only because we just had Army cots after that." The smile didn't shift even as he thought for a moment about cots, stretchers, a cryotube, hotel rooms, the backs of box trucks. He could sleep anywhere if the need arose. He had a mattress now though, even if it was a little too small and sat on the floor it was a step up from nothing. Maybe he could find pallets like he did in Romania and make himself a frame. Maybe he could make one for Steve too. "Are you hungry?" He heard himself say before he sat up, best to keep from going too far into his own head again. "I'm hungry, you should make something since I might forget how to work the stove."

Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 6 2018, 06:50 AM
Steve looked over at Bucky, watching his eyes and studying them intently as he watched the small smile appear on his face. He let out a soft laugh himself as he hung his head, shaking it just a little in the process. "I'm sure you could've found someone who wasn't constantly sick or dragging you into trouble," he said, turning his eyes back up to Bucky and unable to hide just how happy he'd been to hear a familiar nickname, something that had brought back memories of taunting and joking, late nights and early mornings all meshed together. In so many ways, Bucky was Steve's person and there was nothing anyone could do about it. "Jerk." It was an offhandedly remark, but it held weight. Everything they did, everything Steve said to him, it still held weight and it always would. He moved over a little and rested his shoulder against Bucky's, his real shoulder, not the metal on, and relished in the slight contact, even if was nothing compared to how they used to be. It was a step in the right direction and a step towards Steve actually telling Bucky how he felt, because he needed to. He couldn't lose him again.

Steve let out a soft laugh and nodded, remembering those horrible cots and just how empty they'd felt. He hadn't realized back then why, but he did now. He kept that thought to himself, though, and simply marveled at Bucky's smile. He'd forgotten how much it lit up the other man's entire face and brought back familiarity to it. At Bucky's suggestion, Steve couldn't help but laugh out loud. Now, Steve was not the best cook, his mother had been amazing and, if he remembered correctly, so had Bucky's mother, but he could whip something up, even if it took longer than it probably should. "You're lucky I love you," Steve said, more to himself, patting Bucky's knee, as he got to his feet and stretched out his arms, working out his muscles. He hadn't boxed in a while. He hadn't ran in a while. Two things he desperately missed, but Bucky was more important and those things would be there when that book was found and destroyed. Without really thinking about what he'd said, he walked into the kitchen and opened up the fridge, looking for something to make.

Then it hit him. Like a million bricks. Like he'd just said something that could never be unsaid or undone. Had he really just said that? Maybe he was making it up in his mind. It had came out so casually and so organically, he hadn't even realized it. Instead of making a big deal about it, though, Steve decided to play it off, to ignore it for the moment until Bucky said something about it. He closed the fridge, deciding upon making some chili, and got out everything he needed, almost as if he was lost in his own world. His mother, when they could afford it, would always cook hearty meals to try and put some weight on Steve, but it never worked. He did, though, gain a love for comfort food and he hoped that Bucky wouldn't mind. He mixed the spices together, a familiar smell filling the air, as he opened up cans and got out the ground beef, trying desperately to seem like he was lost in his own world and being nonchalant about the whole thing.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 6 2018, 11:18 PM


"Where would the fun be in that?" He asked, utterly unperturbed by the fact that Steve was pressing his shoulder to Bucky's. He shook his head a little because Steve had done nothing but help him, screwed up his own life to do it, and Bucky knew -even if he wasn't sure why exactly- that he would do the same thing for the other man. Just making sure he didn't die when they were kids seemed like a simple thing at this point.

The simple sentence followed by the absent clap to his leg as Steve got up was.... something. It didn't mean anything, the same way all the rest of it didn't, couldn't, mean anything. It was just Steve being too damn nice as was the usual. That wasn't what went through Bucky's mind though, the sudden urge to smile, followed shortly after by a thought of Peggy and the tempering of the manic grin that had threatened to spread across his face. That went through his mind, even if he wasn't really sure why outside of the obvious. What came out of his mouth as Steve went into the kitchen was a short, "You're lucky I'm not trying to feed us."

It wasn't that he couldn't cook. He could keep himself alive, but he'd found out quickly that Bucky Barnes had a sweet tooth and preferred oddly flavored chips to actually cooking a meal. What he remembered of meals as the Soldier were mostly things he could eat as he moved or bags and tubes, before that he remembered the smell of his mother's cooking but not the taste. If his time in hiding alone before Steve found him taught him anything it was that oatmeal was comfortably in his wheelhouse, and that was about it.

Without another word Bucky followed him into the kitchen in time to see Steve getting together what looked like soup? He didn't know what he was making but he wasn't entirely useless, and since he hadn't thought Steve would actually just start cooking he wanted to help. "Diced or strips?" He asked, grabbing one of the bell peppers in his left hand and easily twirling the cutting knife from their cracked butcher's block in the other. It turned out, after Steve answered, that twirling the knife he was fine with, fighting with it, but his dice job was hacky at best. He scowled at the bits of pepper and wondered if making a 'I'm better at stabbing then cutting aparently' joke would be too much.

Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 7 2018, 07:24 AM
Steve laughed a little and let out a small breath, shaking his head. Bucky hadn't mentioned what he'd said and he was thankful for that. Or maybe he wasn't? Maybe he'd wanted to say it, to get it out in the open so he wouldn't have to pretend not to want to touch the other man. He wouldn't have to pretend like he didn't miss the days when they'd share a bed, Bucky's arms keeping him warm and providing stability through the night. But, for the moment, he just focused on what Bucky had said and it had caused a genuinely happy reaction from Steve. It was casual banter like this that Steve remembered from when he was younger. It was thoughts of gentle, stolen touches here and there, a watchful eye from his best friend and constant teasing. The simplicity of it was known, but the weight that it carried in Steve's mind and heart was absolutely intense. Always had been. "Yeah, well, hope you don't mind chili," he said, offhandedly. The weather hadn't exactly been the warmest and, when Steve peeked out of their small, drafty window, he could see the snow falling, so, what better way to warm up then a hearty meal? He was, by no means, a good, but he could throw spices and things together in a pot, cook it up, and call it chili. It was better than nothing, that was for sure.

When Steve heard Bucky's words, he couldn't help but smile a little more. He wanted to help? Help was something Steve usually didn't accept, but with Bucky, he'd worded it in a way that wasn't a question of 'do you want help?' It was more like, 'I'm going to help you, how do you want this?' "Diced," he said with a smile, letting his eyes scan over to Bucky and settle on him for a second before he went back to preparing the other things, getting ground beef from the fridge and starting to brown it in a pan. He let his eyes shift over to Bucky a few times and he couldn't help but feel his smile grow wider. He seemed to be struggling with it, but it was turning out just fine. "It doesn't have to be perfect, Buck. It's fine," he said, in answer to Bucky's scowl. It wasn't like his metal arm was exactly designed to let him cook things. It was, more or less, for hurting things, but that was all in the past. They didn't need to worry about hurting anyone for a while. After he was done with the meat, he tossed it into the pot with the spices and put it on the heat, adding in the vegetables and stirring it a little. Yeah, he definitely wasn't a cook, but at least it was hearty and warm, just what they needed.

A strange feeling washed over Steve as he worked over the stove. This was so domestic that it was sickening. It was just the way they used to be, back in Brooklyn, trying to scrape two pennys together to get a decent meal on the table. This would have been gourmet back then, something they would have had on birthdays or special occasions, so making it on an ordinary day was both strange and nice. They'd both come very far. Offhandedly, he looked over at Bucky, unable to wipe the smile off his face. "I meant it, you know?" he said, softly. It hadn't exactly planned on saying anything more regarding what he'd said in the living room, but it just felt right. It was them against the world yet again and Steve wanted to finally get that off his chest, this being the perfect opportunity. Naturally, he didn't think Bucky would believe him or even feel remotely the same way, but saying it out loud was something Steve had wanted to say for many, many years. Since he'd thought he'd lost Bucky, to be exact.



James Barnes

James Barnes

Winter Soldier
Enhanced
100 years old
77 posts
Feb 7 2018, 08:36 PM


The more frustrated he got the more off angle all his cuts were and the bits of pepper were turning into triangles basically and this was ridiculous. He grabbed another pepper because he was going to get this and held it still with his left hand, hacking off the top and bottom automatically although the actual chopping wasn't working so well for him. They had given him a metal arm that was so advanced it had touch, he could feel things with it, but heaven forbid he know how to cut a pepper.

"Good thing damn it, cause this," He gestured to the attempts he had made sitting there on the counter waiting for Steve to throw them in, "is not perfect." He knew it didn't have to be perfect, but now he was frustrated that HYDRA had apparently felt 'cutting vegetables' was useless enough to make him forget. "Next time just have me stab it and it'll be fine." He said with a grin, spearing the top of the pepper as if to prove the point.

He didn't need to stab anything else, although Steve did allow him to open a can which it turned out he did remember how to do. If he had tried to use the stove he might actually have forgotten.

By the end of it they'd managed to make something mostly edible, it wasn't bad but somehow they burned something in it and occasionally they'd get a strange bite. When they'd eaten Bucky offered to dry the dishes, instead of just doing it, and Steve told him he didn't need the help so he found himself in his room with a notebook splayed across his lap. He was trying to remember as many stupid little details as he could about the incident Steve 'didn't remember', listening to the water running and the clinking of dishes in the background.

Steve Rogers

Captain America
Enhanced
97 years old
57 posts
Feb 8 2018, 07:31 AM
The chili, which ended up tasting more like a mix of soup and just seasoned beef thrown together, turned out alright. And Steve was slightly proud of that. He'd never been a good cook, but making something that was at least edible was always something he'd strive for. He did notice that some parts tasted a bit more burned than others, but he didn't mention it, choosing to just call this a win and call it a day. Once they were done eating, Steve went about cleaning the kitchen, quickly declining Bucky's offer to help him. He could do it on his own, he didn't need help. He did, though, watch as Bucky retreated to his room as Steve was busy cleaning up the disaster that was their kitchen. Small and cramped, no where near enough room For two bodies to working in tandem to clean it up. Besides, Steve had made most of this mess, he could clean it up. He did, however, note just how domestic this all felt. And, damn, he didn't mind it. It almost felt like they were two normal people, living out a normal life together. But they weren't and Steve knew that.

After cleaning up the kitchen, Steve went to go sit by the fire escape again, a place where he usually found himself perched. He loved looking outside and getting fresh air, a thing he even used to do in his youth, which caused his mother to constantly scold him. Still, looking up at the sky, Steve had always been fascinated by the vastness of the universe. The world was huge and filled with people, but, for some reason, he felt alone. He knew he had Bucky, of course he had Bucky, and he needed this break from combat, but still, part of him wanted to sit outside and feel the sun on his skin again. Not yet, though. And, in the end, he would be happy he'd waited because he would be able to have Bucky by his side, hopefully, for the rest of his life.

Steve had lost track of time, gazing up at the dark, night sky. He was so completely engrossed in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed the clouds start to fill the sky and a soft snow start to fall. He thought about Bucky and how much he really loved that man. He thought about how simple it was to say to him and to know that he'd never share anything that held more meaning than that in his entire life. He thought of the pain that he'd felt after watching Bucky fall and then, after all those years, seeing familiar eyes, but not in the way he'd seen them before, when Bucky had looked at him like he was an object to be destroyed instead of someone who he'd shared so much with. Steve shook those thoughts out of his head, though, because that wasn't the case anymore. Bucky knew who he was now, Bucky remembered things, and he didn't have to see that gaze ever again. He'd made sure of it. Before too long, Steve glanced at the clock and let out a breath. It was getting late. He might as well try to sleep, even if it didn't work. He got to his feet and stretched out his arms, sighing softly, as he headed into his lonely room and sat down, yearning for Bucky's supportive arms around him, like how it used to be.



James Barnes
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