whatsfondue: (Default)
Steven Grant Rogers ([personal profile] whatsfondue) wrote in [community profile] a_musingly2014-09-09 12:04 am

[closed to [personal profile] disassembling] - I Thought You Were Dead

Bad luck always comes in threes.

Steve had never been the superstitious sort before (he was Catholic). First there had been an accident with Banner that had lead to a last minute switch-up in assigned team members for this mission. Then there had been an accident in an Stark Industries owned factory that left Stark worried, twitchy and furious. Not a good state of mind to be doing a mission with.

The third of course was the attack that had brought down the quinjet over the thickly grown jungles Steve was currently hiking alone through right now, having been forced (for once it was not his idea to jump out of a plane without a parachute) to hastily exit the plane while it was on fire. He'd been separated from the rest of the team in the explosion; he hoped they were alright...no, he KNOWS they are all fine. Now it was only a matter of getting back to civilization and getting in back in touch with the rest of the Avengers. Any civilization, he wasn't picky at this point.

He didn't know that by the time he made his way out of the bush into civilization, more than a week would have passed.
disassembling: (WS - Making the difficult choice)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-15 03:14 am (UTC)(link)
His fingers flexed against Steve's elbows, enjoying the sensation of strong limbs under his grip. He eyed his friend for a sign that it would be alright for them to roll around wrestling in bed as they sometimes did in Steve's apartment. It was easier in the apartment though they had to be careful not to damage things. Here the room and bed was big enough where he was keener to see if something could get going.

"I don't... know," he muttered, aware of his tunnel vision. He tended to do things that Steve did, but it was hard for him to just go and do something on his own. He didn't know the music, the culture or much of anything. He tried the television a few times, but it was generally things he wasn't interested in. "Oh... so let's wrestle then. It will be... hmm, fun." He tugged on Steve's arms as if he were encouraging his friend to fight back.
disassembling: (WS - Disappear from sight)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-15 03:53 am (UTC)(link)
The fact that he couldn't actually hide was one of the reasons that he didn't like being in the Tower. He knew there was always something aware of him, and his instinct was always to hide when it was uncomfortable, and that was difficult when there was literally no where that the AI couldn't locate him. It also made potentially ambushing Steve in the hallways difficult and the air vents were really Hawkeye's thing rather than his own. He only needed to peer in once to know it and gave up to lurk somewhere else. Behind doors was his second best option.

He rolled with the shifted of Steve's arms, his right relinquishing its hold but the metal left staying clamped. He swayed with the attempt to dump him, and he lost his advantage as he tipped to the side. He corrected and suddenly had to abandon his spot, rolling off of Steve and coming up with the blankets to throw at his friend.
disassembling: (WS - Suspicous)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-15 01:43 pm (UTC)(link)
These little games were rare, especially given the nature of their training and their jobs. Why fight each other when they spent pretty much their entire lives fighting? However, it was something that they were very good at. With Steve it was about learning to enjoy himself again and while he wouldn't go out of his way to listen to music, cook or sketch, he would make an effort for this.

He hissed in pleasure as the blanket did their job and he immediately launched to tackle Steve back over onto the mattress where he could regain his position on the top spot, his hands searching for limbs to pin down as he tried to wrap his legs around other limbs to keep them from getting away easily from him.
disassembling: (WS - It's not over until I say so)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-15 02:00 pm (UTC)(link)
He felt the usual strange warm thrill that happened when someone of similar skill and strength took him on. Like all his other battles, he remained silent even if stealth was not something that happened here in bed. It was his turn to be a bit surprised when the blanket was used against him, and he struggled against the material from tangling up his arms.

His legs clamped on any part of Steve that they could find and the blanket was not doing so well against their combined strength. He personally didn't care about ripping material, just another victim of their play as he got his flesh arm loose and swung a fist in the approximate area he thought Steve's shoulder was.
disassembling: (WS - Intent on this mission)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-15 02:21 pm (UTC)(link)
He could care less if people watched them sparring in the gym, but it was less of a spar with other people present. He reverted far too easily to the Winter Soldier and went for damaging and even killing blows sometimes, a warning to those observing that he played no favourites when he wanted to kill someone. Steve just happened to be very good at reading and dodging him, but he had noticed that few people observed anymore.

He smirked as his fist grazed flesh and scrambled to get a hold on Steve's shoulders. It didn't work as well as he would have hoped as his left arm became pinned against his side as Steve's arms locked around him. He hissed and grabbed back with his free right hand, trying to pry his friend's arms open so he could escape and try pinning again soon.
disassembling: (WS - Its called intimidation factor)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-15 02:51 pm (UTC)(link)
He had no taken up any of the others challenges for a spar, fought only Steve for the time being. His indifference only seemed to antagonize Tony a bit, but really he was using missions to study up on everyone else before he decided the best way to engage them in any sort of combat. He knew some would be difficult and others he could best if he applied himself well and with the tricks of his trade. Perhaps someday soon he would take on Thor or Tony who would be the hardest in his opinion.

He struggled hard, the plates of his arm shifting under Steve's grip as it settled more into combat mode, but he couldn't get it free with their current twisting struggling position. He had to suddenly uncurl a leg to try to catch the bed, but he underestimated the slick sheets and his heel just slid as he was flipped to his back. His right hand flew up to seize at Steve's throat, but there was a sudden strange warmth that flared when Steve's heavier body landed on his own. He couldn't explain it, but it felt... good.
disassembling: (WS - Patience to choose)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-16 12:24 am (UTC)(link)
He admitted that he grudgingly didn't mind Thor much or Bruce, who knew the value of personal space. If there were any of the other Avengers he could get along with, it was them and the Widow but more on a professional level. He still always preferred Steve's company, but he considered gradually warming up to the other two out of anyone. He knew that he would always prefer Steve, and that was where his attention always shifted when they were in a room as a group. Sparring would perhaps come another time when he deigned to consider such things beyond his friend.

He couldn't help but let out a growl when his flesh arm was pinned down to the bed, and he shifted, trying vainly to throw Steve off of him and only succeeding in shifting the larger weight against his own. His fingers flexed in aggravation, but he continued to struggle, testing out any weak points in Steve's hold on him, but it was pretty solid. He shifted his legs last, trying to get a good press of them to throw Steve, but his attempts only ended up rubbing their thighs and hips together and again, it felt... good and warm.

"No, I don't yield," he growled, though his struggling was less to throw off and more to experiment a bit on why he was feeling good when they rubbed like this.
disassembling: (WS - All narrowed eyes & scowls)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-16 05:01 am (UTC)(link)
"Don't think I can't," he replied with a narrowing of his eyes. He was not going to give up until he had worked every angle of this and found a way out. Besides, Steve had to go to the bathroom at some point, and that meant that he would have to have his freedom for that. He had it all planned out as he strained in the hold on him for his upper body but he was still exploring that pleasant sensation with his lower half.

"I don't yield. You'll have to force a tap-out," he replied smugly and managed to shift a thigh enough to wedge it between Steve's to see if he could force the hold on his legs to loosen some. His head turned when Steve's forehead hit his shoulder, giving a sharp nip with his teeth to show that he would use every advantage to win this sparring match.
disassembling: (WS - Shielding myself)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-16 01:37 pm (UTC)(link)
He finally took notice with the way that Steve's physical reaction subsided and then returned. Some part of him knew exactly what it was about, recognized the danger of their position and even saw the signs of struggling with the pleasure of it all in Steve. Another part of him wanted to use it to his advantage to get out of the hold, to spar in any way that he saw fit to slink out of the strong arms pinning him. He felt the heat from Steve's face on his chest, and he flexed his hands in the hold on him, finally applying more effort with his prosthetic.

He leaned his face down, pressing his nose into the top of Steve's head, breathing deep the scent of the shampoo from last night and the scent that his friend normally carried. "Steve..." he murmured, his voice huskier as the warmth and position started an odd stir between his own legs, slight but noticeable by him who had not had such things in a long time.
disassembling: (WS - Going down the dark road)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-16 02:29 pm (UTC)(link)
His nose pulled back as Steve's head rose from where it had been on his chest, and he stared at his friend and the sight that greeted him was both confusing and appealing. He liked that look of lust on Steve's face, and it had his body shifting under his friend's one, pressing their hips together with a touch more pressure before his metal arm broke free of the hold.

It broke the spell of exploration of such sensation as his metal arm shifted around to grasp onto Steve and shove his friend off of him as he wiggled and squirmed to get out of the rest of the hold, his cheeks dusted with a pink flush of his own, though his hair hung over his eyes a bit to hide some of it.
disassembling: (WS - Reassessing the level of threat)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-17 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
The sound that Steve made sent a shiver and what could only be described as a thrill through him that he was almost regretful that he threw his friend off of him and escaped the pin. He rolled up to crouch on the balls of his feet on the mattress, one hand pressing on the bed for balance but the other raised with full intention of using it to capture his friend again. Too bad Steve was off the bed, but that just made the sparring far more entertaining. He stared like a predator at his friend, sizing up the opportunity to take Steve down.

He blinked at the attempt to pause their activities and he shifted forward, moving towards the end of the bed. "But we just started. You can't leave now; it's getting so good," he replied with a husky voice. "Come on, come at me," he challenged playfully.
disassembling: (WS - All narrowed eyes & scowls)

[personal profile] disassembling 2014-09-17 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
The wide-eyed look almost drew him from the bed to pounce on Steve again, but he held himself poised just before the action. He shifted closer to the edge of the bed, perching there and waiting for the best opportunity to jump on Steve, to continue their sparring and to feel good and warm again. He wanted that more than he wanted to admit, and he suspected Steve could tell that about him too. Who else to read him better than his friend?

"No, don't go," he almost pleaded, fingers clenching on the edge of the mattress. He felt like if Steve left, the warmth that had built up would go away again; it meant he might not be able to get it back. "I want to pounce on you now. I feel good now, so let's do this," he said as he hopped off the bed to stand and moved to stalk the distance between them.

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