a_musingly | [closed to disassembling] - I Thought You Were Dead

There was always an element of danger to any mission, no matter how easy and simple it looked on paper. No one could control all the variables at all times. It had been like this back during the war when working with the Howling Commandos and it was no different seventy plus years in the future with the Avengers. He could only do this best and trust his teammates, Bucky included to do his best and worry in private.

"I just heard your stomach." He said chidingly and brushed one of his thumbs gently underneath the eyes where dark under-circles had formed due to lack of sleep. "And I can tell you didn't sleep much either." Steve didn't expect the other Avengers to have been able to stop Bucky or even to get him to take care of himself just a bit more than he had. While they and Bucky had been getting better working in the field, off-duty interactions were a different matter entirely. "I've said this before and I'll say it again, functional is NOT optimal. I want you to be optimal as much as possible." No doubt this was discussion they'll be revisiting again and again.

"You won't be 'letting' me." He replied just as softly, fingers stroking down one cheek in a light carress. "It'll be my choice. And I'm not going to hide you away somewhere like a dirty secret or some weapon to be taken out and used when necessary." The last especially. He'd have become just like Hydra at that point.

"That's a normal sound," he replied stiffly, only to have his stomach clench painfully in reminder that he was sub-optimal right now. He had managed to drink water to keep himself hydrated but food had been a distraction from looking over the forest canopy for signs of his friend, and he hadn't packed anything when he stole this quinjet anyway. "And I caught a few hours," he replied defensively. Only while he was waiting for the jet to refuel and had no other options; it was probably good he wasn't entirely piloting right now.

"I was looking for you, and that took priority," he said as if that justified everything that he had done for the last week as he searched desperately for Steve. "I've been trained to go with minimal if I need to. And you're here now, so that's all that matters to me." He tightened his grip just a fraction more before slowly relenting because his back hurt and he knew that they couldn't stay like this the whole time.

"Sometimes I just need to hide away," he muttered, his head leaning into the caress heavily, like he was tipping forward, his eyes slowly closing like he might fall asleep right then and there. "I want you to be happy. I need you to be happy so I know what it looks like in someone."

"No it's not." Steve chided again. "Stomachs that have gotten adequate amounts of food AND drink does not sound like that. And somehow I don't think your 'few hours' does not come anywhere close to at least five hours a day." And five hours a day was a very loose definition of adequate sleep for both of them. When they get home, he was going to have both of them clean up, eat, then hustle into the pillow fort still in the living room for at least twelve hour of sleep. While the bed will probably be better sleep, Bucky would feel better in the pillow fort after the last few days.

He sighed, knowing that to argue further would be future. "Sit down...it makes my back hurt to look at you in this position." No that there was anywhere else but back into the pilot seat (unless Bucky crawled into his lap) or they moved into the back. The back wasn't really an option for long term though. Even if the plane was on autopilot someone needed to stay in the front to keep an eye on anything unexpected. One air-related accident in a week was enough.

"I know...." He felt the need himself, which was why he had his own apartment out in Brooklyn instead of taking the floor Tony had set aside for him in the Tower. "You know that I'm not the best example for you right? There's still a lot of stuff I need to work on." But he was trying, really trying now these days, instead of simply just existing. For himself and for Bucky as well.

He frowned because he had not gotten adequate food or sleep, but he was fully hydrated, so that was something. He might have caught two hours of broken sleep a day and even when grounded, he paced like a caged animal for the time when he could get back to the quinjet to go looking again. "You're not supposed to nag me for spending so much time looking for you when I only meant well," he finally replied sourly. He would have kept going until his body or mind had given out too.

He finally relented in his hold, backing off with great reluctance as he shifted back into the pilot's seat with more than a few glances as Steve like the man might disappear at any moment. He flipped the quinjet off of autopilot and took the controls to give his mind something other than his entire focus being on Steve. "You can sleep and I'll get us State's side again." Assuming he wasn't captured for the illegal and continued use of government property that was.

He glanced over at Steve, narrowing his eyes slightly. "You realize I don't care," he replied stubbornly. "You're the only important thing that I have."

Steve can't help but motherhen. "I know, I know." He said soothingly. "I'm not ungrateful Bucky. Again, I'm sorry I worried you." He might not have to but it had been done anyway so it merits an apology in Steve's book. He himself haven't rested much while in the jungle, not with the danger of wild animals and possible ambushes by Hydra waiting around every corner. Short naps, no matter that they added up to more or less 3-4 hours a night were no substitution for real sleep.

He settled more comfortably in the co-pilots seat, slouching a little in sign of how tired he really is instead of seating up straight like he usually did. He caught one of the glances thrown his way and reached out with a hand, resting it on Bucky's thigh. A physical reassurance that they were both here. "Sleep sounds good. If you drop off at the Tower, one of the Avengers can take care of the rest." It was a little unfair, asking hem to clean up for them both afterwards but Steve will think of something to make it up to them later. Steve slouched a bit more and his eyes slid halfway closed.

He sighed again, knowing that this was another on-going discussion between the two of them. One that he probably needs more help with.

He grunted but said nothing more to the apology, not feeling that Steve had to make any towards him after all that he had done in the past. He certainly hadn't apologized for getting hurt when he had on the mission a few weeks ago, and he didn't think that Steve would ever owe him one for taking him in like some stray alley cat. Besides, it had been a trying week on them both and the sooner that they hit State-side, the better it would be for them both. He might even tolerate staying at the Stark Tower to get Steve feed, watered and sleeping rather than make the trek to the apartment.

He reached up and set a flight path for them through the computer, taking the most direct route. He paused at the feel of a hand on his thigh and glanced down at it before he sighed out some of the tension in him. "Yes, the Tower would be best. You will eat and sleep there too," he said in a no-nonsense tone as if he had already planned out how this was all going to go. "Once I know you're safe, I'll return the quinjet to the proper authorities."

He glanced at Steve and narrowed his eyes. "Sleep."

Despite the fact that he didn't mean to do it, Steve still would apologize. It was part good manners to apologize, and partly to show that he understood that the last week had been difficult for them both. And when they get back, Steve will let Bucky motherhen him for a bit; it was only fair. At the same time, he'll do his best to drag Bucky into doing the same.

"Aright..." He murmured sleepily in assent, giving the thigh underneath his hand a light squeeze and left it there as he started drifting off. The suggestion that they stay at Stark Tower surprised him, considering how Bucky never entirely felt comfortable there. He fell asleep, head tilted slightly back against the headrest with a last, "Wake me up when we're almost there..."

His last words turned out to be unnecessary; he woke up at the feeling of the light bump of the quinjut touching down on the tarmac.

The Winter Soldier said nothing more, simply piloting to focus on something other than the sleeping figure in the chair next to him. Like all of his endeavors, he does them well and silently. He maintained their flight plan and even hazarded a motion to inform the Avengers of the fact he was bringing a quinjet in that area and planned on parking it there until morning. He also informed JARVIS in a clipped tone that he and Steve would require a room for the night and possible food and drink before they left the next morning.

They arrived without incident and on radio silence, and he was shutting down the quinjet controls when Steve woke next to him, but he barely glanced at the other man as he finished the final checks and shut the machine down. He opened the back hatch without a word and rose to his feet, thoroughly exhausted but unwilling to show it save the way that he dragged his feet a little and how thick the lines under his eyes were.

"Come, you need sustenance and more sleep," he muttered and proceeded out of the back of the jet.

Steve sighed inwardly as Bucky seemingly put on the cold unfeeling Winter Soldier front like protective armour (maybe it WAS something like that to Bucky but he wished Bucky didn't feel it was necessary to put up that front any time they were in public) and stalked out of the quinjet. Or tried to stalk. He could see that if he'd been gone for another day, Bucky would probably have collapsed from exhaustion whether he liked it or not. He was still tired but at least he'd been able to sleep a bit in the two and half hours on the flight back while Bucky flew the quinjet.

They were greeted politely by JARVIS, who informed them that food will be delivered in twenty minutes and that Steve's usual suite was ready for them. "So do you, Bucky. We should get clean first though." Because if Bucky has been letting things like food and sleep slide, cleanliness probably was not even anywhere close on the list of things Bucky did while he had been gone. The elevator was already open and waiting for them and took them directly to Steve's floor.

"C'mon. We can share the shower. It's big enough." This was the one thing he liked about Stark Tower, the shower and the accompanying bath (or Jacuzzi really) in the suite was big enough to fit four of him and the hot water was near-endless.

He knew he was going to have to eat, but really, he wanted to rest more than anything. His vision was not staying right anymore and it was hard to concentrate, and he felt far too heavy for his own body but stalked along all the same. The elevator he stared at the buttons because he was hitting the point of awareness where he knew he was about to malfunction badly. No, no he didn't malfunction anymore; only Hydra had used such a word to refer to the behaviours they didn't like or wouldn't tolerate.

"Okay," he said, not about to fight the idea of a shower. His hair was oily and hung stiffly about his cheeks, though he had to follow Steve to its location because he had never done much exploring to this place. It was huge though, reminded him a little of the shower with Hydra but far, far more fancy.

He stripped tiredly, wrinkling his nose at the smell that came off of his uniform and the dirt and old sweat smears on his skin. "Ugh, I smell like a public washroom in a third world country," he muttered, but it wasn't his quote. It was a quote he had picked up from a handler and apparently stored. Exhaustion had his mind spewing out this strange obscure information. He walked into the huge shower all the same and stood under the water, at first just letting it wash away some of the week of grime. He almost dozed on his feet.

Tony had taken him on a tour of the entire tower, or at least the floors he'd set aside for Avengers use when they'd gather again together in New York, partly showing off and partly trying to sell to him the idea of living together. He appreciated the time and the cost gone into the floors but ultimately deciding that he needed his own space away. Still, there had been occasional nights that he stayed over after a late return from a mission or just to spend time with the team, so he knows the Tower fairly well. There was a fully equipped kitchen and the bathroom was state of the art, both with far more options than he ever needed or even knows how to use.

Steve stripped down as well, the uniform pretty much a complete loss and glad to be out of the dirty smelly things. He let out a soft laugh at the comment. "I don't have a fancy comparison for what I smell like, just that it isn't good." He joined Bucky under the hot spray, the water beneath them running dark with dirt, dried blood and other things that Steve doesn't want to think much about. The hot water feels wonderful on his skin and he could feel some of the tension going away.

He did frown at the way Bucky was almost dozing off on his feet and reached out with a steadying hand on the elbow. "Want me to wash your hair?"

He was aware of Steve nearby to his location in the shower, but the man's presence was a comfort rather than an alarm. If anything, he could relax more despite them both being filthy, exhausted, probably dehydrated and hungry. He shifted on his feet lightly and only opened his eyes again when he felt the touch to his elbow, glancing over at Steve standing naked next to him. He shuffled over as if to make more room under the spray, which really wasn't necessary given how much of it there was.

He noted the discolour of the water and that prompted him to push on the soap dispenser. "I can do it," he muttered softly before he suddenly turned his back towards Steve. "Can you wash my back for me?" His hair was in reach after all, his back was a bit more complicated to get to and another person in the shower was an opportunity that he wasn't going to miss out on either. "I can do yours in return if you like."

"Of course." Steve can't quite remember the last time someone scrubbed his back for him. Maybe when he was a little kid and his mother had done it for him. Of course once he'd grown up and was old enough to wash by himself it probably stopped. He pumped out a generous amount of soap, lathered it up and started scrubbing from the shoulders and moved slowly down the back, making sure to scrub a bit of the sides of Bucky's torso as well, working hard with his fingertips. There were a few scars here and there on Bucky's back but they looked old and there wasn't any sign of recent wounds on Bucky's body.

His own body on the other hand, had a few still-healing scrapes and burns particularly on one shoulder, his left flank and thigh. There were a few other cuts, already mostly healed and could only been seen if you looked carefully for lines of pink on the skin. But what stood out among all that were the darkening hand and finger prints on his body.

Because of the speed of his metabolism, he built up and lost muscle and fat faster than most save perhaps Steve himself. He had lost weight but was still fit and capable of carrying himself well enough. His head hung forward as Steve scrubbed the dirt, grime and sweat from his skin, his arms shifting from his sides as the pass of his friend's hand along his sides and the tension bled from his shoulders as his breathing deepened as if he had gone to sleep. He hadn't, but the touch felt good and reassuring after so much concern. "Mmmm... Stevie," he moaned and shifted under the other man's hands even pass what he knew was clean.

Still, he eventually pulled away to rinse off and a quick clean of his chest, thighs and arms before he was lathering up his own hands and attacking Steve's back with the same kind of warm curious but effective cleaning. As he worked, he revealed what was hidden on his friend's skin, healing marks and burns, but it was the finger prints that attracted his attention sharply, waking him up immediately. "...who did this to you?" He ran his finger tips over the bruised imprints. "Who grabbed you like this?"

Steve was positive he was blushing as he heard the moans Bucky let out the moan. It was positively indecent. And the use of his old nickname; he hadn't heard Bucky use it again after that one time in the pillow fort in their apartment. At least this time if Bucky asked about the colour of his face he can pass it off as something caused by the heat of the water they are standing under. He continued cleaning long after Bucky was clean, until the man pulled away himself and he turned to offer Bucky his own back for scrubbing.

It felt excellent, having his back worked over like this. Next time, Steve thought, they might take advantage of the Jacuzzi bath for a long soak afterwards. He'd been told it's great for sore muscles and for relaxing. He shivered as Bucky's fingertips brushed over the bruises and turned his head to look back Bucky's concerned face. "You did, remember. Earlier on the plane, when you hugged me. You were so relieved to see me I guess you forgot your own strength." He reached around to touch one of the bruises lightly. It looked kind of bad right now, but with his healing as it is they'll be mostly gone within two days. "It's alright Bucky. You give me worse sometimes during our spars."

He slowly reached out and set his fingers against the imprints, finding that they did indeed match his own fingers. He frowned and leaned in, brushing his lips over each one in silent apology, and his fingers trailed downwards on either side of Steve's spine, caressing along skin that he had just cleaned, feeling the slight residue of soap as it did so. He stepped in slightly, his hands reaching the hardness of bone that indicated Steve's hip and then his hands, unbidden, smoothed around to the front, clasping Steve's hips as his lips shifted to brush against the bruises that his metal hand had caused.

"I missed you so much," he murmured softly, probably only to be heard because of Steve's advanced hearing since the water pouring on them drowned out most sound otherwise. He tasted the faint tang of the soap he had used, and his tongue darted out to brush on the wet warm skin over where his index finger had left a mark. He didn't like the taste of soap, he decided immediately and turned his face to rest his cheek against Steve's shoulder instead. "I vowed I wouldn't stop looking until I found you."

Steve's eyes widened and his breathe caught in his throat as Bucky starts kissing each and every one of his bruises, barely refraining from moaning at the light caress on his back. It felt good, far better than it should have been and he reminded himself again that not matter how good it feels, getting aroused right now was just as inappropriate as when they'd been cuddling together in the pillow fort (or any other time really).

He refrained from stating that there had been a chance that Bucky would have never found anything, not even his corpse in the jungles they were in. It wasn't what Bucky needed and probably would have made things worse right now. So instead he reached back to brush the side of Bucky's stubbly cheek with his fingers.. "I missed you too. I kept on hoping that you'd gotten out safely and will be waiting for me when I got out." His hand repeated his earlier action again. "And you know I'd do the same for you."

Edited 2014-09-11 16:27 (UTC)

The inappropriateness of his action didn't occur to him as his fingers flexed against Steve's hip, almost ready to pull the other man's larger body against his own. Something, maybe a voice from the past, stopped him from doing so. He held on for a little longer, savouring the closeness after so much concern and stress in the awareness that he might have lost Steve forever, that he would be truly alone with the only connection to his previous life. Steve was the only warm comfort that he had, and if it was gone... what was the point of being anything but the Winter Soldier anymore?

He sighed at the hand against his cheek, but he convinced himself to pull away on the second brush and ease back around so that he could wash his greasy hair. Yet, he stayed perceptively closer to Steve as he did so, passing occasionally sleepy glances at the other soldier he shared a shower with. He might have been feeling cleaner and more set straight, but he felt that he could miss the next meal just for the pleasure of sleeping close to Steve. "I will always wait for you."

He swallowed down a groan as Bucky's fingers tightened on his hips. They were not as close as his body wants but at the same time he knows full well that if they really were pressed together naked and wet like this they'll be awkward questions to answer. Answers he would give honestly but he's not sure if Bucky would be okay with. Bucky was making strides in becoming human again, not completely the James Buchanan Barnes he remembered before the war but still his best friend. However it worried Steve sometimes that Bucky had no other connections to anyone else in the world and showed no inclination of wanting another. The work they did was dangerous, like the last week showed and he worried about what Bucky would do if he was really gone.

He sighed as Bucky pulled away and began to wash his own hair perfunctorily, feeling Bucky's gaze on him from time to time, and glad he's not sporting any improper erections. One final rinse to get all soap and shampoo of of him and he was feeling so much better now that the grime of the grime and dirt of the last week was gone from his body. And now that he was clean, he could feel his stomach making demands he won't be able to put off much longer. He smiled at Bucky's soft declaration and answered with a simple, "I know."

He washed shampoo from his hair first and then had to actually apply conditioner, which was rare as he tended to just roughly tear out tangles and snarls rather than waste his time in the shower for longer. However, he worked the conditioner into his hair so he could stand next to Steve a little longer and enjoy the warm water but mostly the company. It almost surprised him that he could comb his fingers through his hair and work out the snarls because of the conditioner and reminded himself when he was more awake to look into the matter, since he had not come to any decision about his hair length.

He rinsed out his hair soon enough, and he felt he was as clean and functional as he was going to be. Seeing that Steve seemed to be finished, he flipped off the water and trudged out of the shower to grab a towel, rubbing down his body and his hair crudely before just plain wandering off to find the bedroom, ignoring JARVIS' polite indication that food had arrived and was located in the kitchen area.

Steve had only just finished drying himself and slipped on a pair of sweat pants when Bucky took off for the bedroom naked instead of the kitchen as he expected. He hurried rubbed a towel over his hair and grabbed another pair of pants for his friend before heading to the bedroom himself. "Bucky? You don't want to eat?" Bucky must be starving already and no matter how tired they both were it was better to eat first then sleep. "And here are some pants for you." Surely Bucky wasn't planning to sleep naked? (He already knows they'll be sharing a bed tonight and the idea of a naked Bucky next to him fills him with both anticipation and dread.)

In the meantime he could smell the freshly delivered food from the kitchen and his stomach growls hungrily, reminding him yet again of another need he should fill soon. It smells like Italian and he silently thanked whoever it was that made the order because it was the most filling thing he can think of that can be eaten fast.

He had no problem with his nudity, and he was already pulling back the bed covers to investigate the sheets when Steve arrived armed with a pair of pants. He eyed them and grudgingly took them because there was no point in a fight, slipping them over his legs and up over his hips. They were too big for him, clearly made for Steve given how he didn't actually stay here long enough to have much of a guess for his size. They were long in the leg and as usual, big in the waist, sagging against his hips.

He looked down at the loud growl of a hungry stomach from Steve before his own issued its own challenge on the matter. He glanced at the bed, wanting to go to it now but aware that he was always previously required to eat before he was put to rest. "Alright... I'll eat a little bit," he agreed grudgingly, but the smell of food made his mouth water. He wasn't planning on taking his time with this though, not like he normally did with food.

He made his way to the kitchen, following his nose and Steve and finding a seat for a lack of anything else to do. He sniffed hopefully at the air still, even as his damp hair began to drip spare water down his bare back and chest. "What is it?"

Steve did not have a problem with nudity in general, they were both in the army and they've only just finished showering together. It was the idea of nudity and sleeping together that he thought might be too much for him, especially since they tended to gravitate towards each other in bed. He sighed internally in relief as Bucky didn't fight him on the matter, just slipped them up silently even if they were too big for him . He made a mental note to start leaving extra clothes for Bucky in the Tower as well as gave the bed sheets a quick glance (thank goodness the Captain America sheets that Tony had put in last time as a joke were gone), even if Bucky sleeping over was unlikely to happen a great deal. Much better to be prepared next time than not.

Even if Bucky said he'll eat 'a bit', Steve thought his friend will be eating more than that. It almost always turned out that once you eat the first bite, you'll be wanting more immediately until your stomach says 'stop, too full'. "Smells like Italien." Steve replied and was already opening boxes of takeout. He debated taking out proper plates then nixed the idea, knowing they're both be wanting to sleep immediately after eating and won't bother with anything more taxing then throwing away the used dirty takeout boxes. He handed a box of spaghetti to Bucky with a fork stuck into it and took a box of risotto for himself and placed a third box of cooked greens between them. "That's spaghetti and I've got risotto. Try it and if you don't like it, we'll switch."

He looked at the box that he was passed, and it smelled very good to his starved nose and body. He sniffed at it, though he somehow knew spaghetti without having to be told, which chased away a little of his exhaustion. He nodded absently, though he had a doubt that he would be giving it up or trading it with Steve unless it was a little bit to share. He could never deny his friend some of his meal.

He took his first bite and, as usual, a deep contented moan escaped him as taste exploded on his tongue and mouth. He shuddered, pulling the box closer to his chest and began to eat in earnest, his damp hair clinging to his neck and cheeks. He made it through half of the box with record quickness before he sat up abruptly, licking tomato sauce from his lips and then shyly pushed the box towards Steve in silent offering of sharing before he happened to eat it all by himself. "Do you... want some?"

Steve always liked watching Bucky eat, it was one of the few times Bucky let himself show openly how much he liked something, nothing held back or restrained. He smiled and started in on the risotto, too hungry to slow down and properly enjoy the taste of it as he usually did. As he ate, he watched as drops of water from Bucky's damp hair slid down a muscular bare chest and past the stomach to disappear into the over-large pants. He licked his lips unconsciously and forced his attention back on his food, only to look up again just in time to see Bucky lick the red sauce from his own lips, suddenly thankful it wasn't white sauce.

"Yeah, sure. Want to try some of mine? It's good too." Steve offered his own box in return, that had still plenty of risotto left in it compared to the box Bucky offered him. He bent down and twirled some of the speghetti onto his fork before popping the mouthful into his mouth with a contented hum. "I'm guessing I can restaurant as something you wouldn't mind ordering from again?"

[closed to disassembling] - I Thought You Were Dead

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