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

Steve froze when heard the low throaty sound of his name coming from Bucky's lips close to his ear. And pressed as close to Bucky as he was now, he could feel it when Bucky's body started showing signs of mirroring his reaction to their current situation. Slowly he raised his head, aware that his face was flushed pink, his hair a mess due to a combination of bedhead and their wrestling activities but not aware that his pupils were blown wide with lust.

"Bucky..." He breathed. And then that was when Bucky's efforts with his prosthetic arm overpowered a distracted Steve and broke free. Steve tried to recover himself immediately, trying to pin the arm back down again.

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.

A full groan escaped Steve's mouth as Bucky thrust upwards with his hips and he felt a flash of pleasure spreading through him before the groan changed into a startled oof as he was shoved off of Bucky suddenly. He tried to at least pin Bucky's legs down in place but this time, it was his turn to lose his footing on the sheets and tripped over the remains of the blanket right off the edge of the bed. It didn't hurt and Steve recovered right back into a crouch on the heavily carpeted floor.

"Stop! That's...that's enough play for now, Bucky. I need to use the bathroom." Steve panted. He could tell Bucky was already planning to pounce again, no matter that one of them was no longer on the bed.

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.

Steve visibly hesitated, staring back with wide eyes as Bucky loomed over him on the bed, looking like he was about to just pounce anyway regardless of what Steve said. Again he was reminded of a cat, one that was in the mood to play and disinclined to take no for an answer (and in fact my continuously harass you until you say yes.) He liked the easy, playful look on Bucky and he could feel flash of heat go up his spine at the voice, low and throaty, almost a purr.

"Bathroom first. You might have an iron bladder but not me." Steve said. While it was true his bladder needed emptying but it was not the full reason. He needed at least a few minutes to get his own head straight. "After that you can pounce on me as much as you please."

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.

Steve has this feeling that if things continue to go this way he'll be the one that will have to explain certain things to Bucky. Things regarding arousal, sex, and its related feelings that even Steve isn't able to entirely untangle. (And he's not sure if he wants to. Or even if he can.) It had felt good, almost too good to be in close contact with Bucky like this. Cuddling together when they slept in the same bed wasn't nearly the same. And Bucky felt the same way he knew, even if his friend didn't understand why.

He stared, mesmerized by the sway of Bucky's hips as his friend stalked towards him like one of those big cat predators from Africa. It was when Bucky got with arm's length when Steve startled out of his stare and rolled smoothly to his feet so that Bucky was no longer towering over him. "It will feel just as good later, I promise. It's not a one time thing."

He closed the distance easily, and he expected that Steve was going to let this continue, let their play keep feeling so good. That was what he wanted, and he assumed that the way that his friend's gaze seemed to focus on his hips that he was going to be able to push for his way in this too. It was very little that he was denied when it came to Steve.

He stepped in even as Steve stood until there was barely an inch between them and he could feel the heat radiating off of Steve's skin. His metal hand slipped from his side to settle on Steve's hip, preventing an easy escape as he peered up at his friend. "It's not a one time thing, hmm? Come on, we were having fun... let's continue now. You never know when you'll be summoned to another level..."

It was true; Steve could deny Bucky very little when it came to himself, especially when it was something he liked too. But there was always the faint sprinkling of unease that came up occasionally in Steve's mind, that this wasn't right, not when Bucky doesn't understand or remember the whys and hows behind what feels good to him.

Bucky's metal hand felt cool on his hip, a sharp contrast to Steve's still overheating body. He bent his head down, close enough that their noses were almost touching. "You know I'm always happy to spar with you, or wrestle around in bed. Even if I'm called away we can get back to the...fun...later." He doubted JARVIS would let anyone bother them right now so there wasn't much chance of him or Bucky getting called out for anything less than an emergency. "Ten minutes. That's all I ask." Ten minutes probably wasn't going to be enough but he doubted he'll get even half of that.

For a moment, the Soldier thought that he was getting permission to continue, to pull Steve in tight against him and wrestle his friend to the ground, but it was soon followed up with a time out again. He flexed his fingers against Steve's hip, aware that he could force the issue, but there was some undercurrent in Steve's voice that had him debating the worth of pushing when he had been requested to stop for a few minutes for a third time.

"I... alright," he agreed grudgingly. He released Steve's hip with obvious reservation but turned away all the same. He'd give Steve ten minutes, maybe... do general upkeep on himself or something in that time, probably have to get back into pants to face the day that was ahead of them. He wondered if he could sneak out the window so he could trot off back to Steve's place and leave his friend to assure everyone that everything was fine. Oh... well, he'd miss brunch, and he wasn't certain he wanted to do that either.

Steve hated seeing disappointment on Bucky's face. But suddenly there as too much going on in his head and the potential of doing real harm stop him from continuing with the play, as much as Bucky was enjoying it. And as soon as Bucky stepped away from him, Steve sighed, already missing the closeness. His fingers twitched, wanting to pull Bucky back close and reassure him that this wasn't a rejection, simply that there was something Steve needs to figure out in his own head first.

He turned and headed into the bathroom. After taking care of his bladder he stepped into the coldest shower he could manage and had JARVIS call Sam for him. Sam was the most stable and normal person he knows AND he has actual professional advice he could really use. It was unfortunate that Sam told him right out that no, both of you have issues I'm not qualified to deal with, here is some stuff I think you should do but go and find an actual specialist for this, okay? Steve thanked Sam but rather doubted there was anyone in the world who was able to deal with him and Bucky together. He stepped out of the shower with a minute to spare from his self-imposed time limit of 10 minutes, dried himself dressed before leaving the bathroom, hoping Bucky would have stayed instead of disappearing.

He watched Steve go subtly, but there was nothing more that he could do aside from bust down the door and try to get his way, which he had promised them both that he wouldn't do. He remained fighting his disappointment and trying to figure out his own emotions on the matter, considering the warm sensation that had suffused him previously. He was always trusting and warm with Steve, but that had been different after all, it had been on a physical level rather than the usual comfort that came mentally. He had felt high-strung rather than calmed in that situation, something that generally only happened during battle.

He eased away from the bedroom given he had lost interest and wandered to the kitchen area where they had eaten previously. He had ten minutes to burn, and that seemed like a long time to wander. He found his uniform clean and folded, so in light of the day starting and the previous known discomfort by Steve, he pulled on his military fatigues and his leather vest, zipping and strapping it on securely. He armed himself with his knifes because they were there and then returned to the bedroom in order to search up a brush for his hair, which had not settled down overmuch since he had slept. He lurked in a corner of the room because of the old habit of doing so brushing out the tangles of his hair until it lay flat and untangled around his face and waited for Steve to make another appearance.

Sam had suggested several things, some he doesn't think are possible at all (like staying apart for a while) and others just were plain awkward, (like explaining certain things that made Steve's face heat up just to think about, not to mention he's not sure entirely HOW.) He sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair, deciding to play it by the ear for now and keep Sam's suggestions in mind. Steve ignored the tiny voice in his head that asked him: wasn't this how he'd gotten into his current situation? The part of him that was uneasy was due to how Bucky so easily trusted him these days; he'd rather die than break that trust.

He exited the bathroom, half expecting Bucky to pounce the second he was out. Steve frowned when he found the kitchen empty and changed direction to head back to the bedroom still dressed casually in sweatpants though he'd put on a t-shirt as well, wondering if Bucky had just up and left entirely instead.

"Bucky?" He asked tentatively when he stepped back into the bedroom, sighing in relief when he spotted his friend lurking in the corner of the room, dressed in 'work' clothes. "Did you want to leave?" He'd previously wanted brunch in the communal kitchens but if Bucky wanted to leave, he'll also go as well, and make plans to make it up with his other friends later.

He heard Steve moving around beyond the bathroom, and he set the comb down on the night-stand nearby as he resumed his lurking in the corner that he had taken up for his own. He turned his head and regarded his friend with the usual 'Soldier' neutral expression, his previous enthusiasm and disappointment having bled away to a more business-like outward appearance.

"No, I thought you wanted a late breakfast," he remarked. He knew that speaking to the other Avengers was priority as well, given that they hadn't been able to get too close to Steve after he had arrived on scene. Plus, he was going to have to return to the quinjet to the airbase and avoid getting arrested for taking it without permission anyway. If conversation got too much, he could slip off to do that and return later while Steve played cook to everyone else and they all enjoyed an easy sort of camaraderie. "Aren't you hungry?"

Steve hid his disappointment at the return of Bucky's more neutral state. He understood and accepted this was part of Bucky now and likely always will be but he wished Bucky didn't feel he has to slip into it while they were alone. "I did and I could eat." He admitted after a moment. It wasn't the so-hungry-i-could-eat-a-bear sort of hungry last last night but more of a it's-been-more-than-eight-hours-since-last-caloric-intake-food-now-please-and-thank-you sort that he could bare with if necessary. And his earlier idea about cooking for everyone else as a sorry-for-the-trouble apology was still knocking around in his head.

"How about you? If you don't want to eat here with the others I can always cook something for you later." Later would be back in his apartment of course where they had more privacy.

He knew that Steve could and would pack back more food in the next few day as he would to regain lost weight and muscle mass from being starved so long. The pasta from last night had hit the right spot, but he could certainly eat something if it was presented to him and would probably even tolerate company in order to get it.

Yet, he tilted his head slightly at the offer to cook later. Was that a dismissal or an offer to let him leave so Steve could entertain the others? He played it over through his mind silently for a few moments, uncertain which it might be but aware that Steve never meant offense to him in any way. "I... could eat," he said carefully as if testing the waters. "Would you... prefer I stay here until you're finished debriefing the others to your state of health?"

He always ate more after a mission and he suspected Bucky would too if it was put it in front of him, especially the neglect Bucky put himself through in the last week. He waited patiently as Bucky considered his words. He meant for it give Bucky a choice; that if his friend wanted he could leave now and Steve will welcome him back with open arms. He knew Bucky still only tolerated the other Avengers for his sake. "It's what YOU want that I'm concerned about. I know the others can be...overwhelming...sometimes." He shrugged, as if to say, 'what can you do with that bunch of different personalities when they're together as a group.'

"I meant it. You can do whatever most you feel comfortable with."

He shrugged his shoulders, willing to tolerate the others for Steve's sake, since he knew it was not in anyone's best interest to monopolize Steve from the others. Besides, he could always sneak off pretending to go to the bathroom and run off before JARVIS could hopefully report him gone out a window. "I can handle it," he said neutrally, not about to commit himself to a good time when there might not be one to be had. At least there would be food.

"You said you'd cook, so let's go and you can cook," he added and pushed out of his corner of the room and force Steve to leave to do what was originally promised. He'd tolerate the Avengers and hopefully not knife any of them, though he never made promises about Tony.

A few hours later, Steve was walking up the steps to his own apartment, having fed and reassured all that he was fine and all he needs is a few days of food and rest. Brunch with the Avengers were loud and boisterous, almost a party. He enjoyed it though underneath there was a niggling worry about Bucky, who he can tell experienced an equal amount of uneasiness.

At least tonight he could cook something just for the two of them, if Bucky wanted (and stayed). He balanced the bag of groceries on one hip as he fumbled for the lock to his apartment with the other. Any groceries that was left in his fridge from a week ago would have gone bad already and will need to be thrown out.

He had survived brunch without killing someone or sneaking out a window. The worst he had done was escape for a bathroom break that had taken longer than was required to empty his bladder and wash his hands, but he had sat for the overly enthusiastic conversation, laughter, questions and meal. He knew that it was important to Steve, so he had endured it as he had endured so many of Hydra's tortures and punishments, both done without complaints.

Perhaps the worst about this brunch matter that a part of him longed to enjoy it, felt like he could have at one time. Then the long years of lost memories and the mental scars kept him sitting quietly eating and just watching, picking out weaknesses rather than opportunities to join in. He kept to himself, but he enjoyed watching Steve have fun, expecting that the experience was enough to satisfy him because he was uncertain how to have fun himself in such a large group of people when all the memories on how to relate to others were still glaringly missing.

As always, he followed Steve back to the apartment like some stray cat. The walk was good for him, and he grunted as he reached out to plunk the bag from Steve's hold so his friend could actually open the door and not drop everything that had been bought all over the hallway.

He always felt guilty that every time there was a gathering, Bucky attended them as something to be endured instead of something to be enjoyed. It as obvious with Bucky sitting in a corner with a blank expression on his face, like it was one one of those very boring debriefings with the higher ups when they'd been in the army instead of it being relaxed gathering of friends. It hurt to see Bucky tolerating it all for his sake instead of having fun in it as he would have a long time ago.

"Thank you." He offered a smile to Bucky in thanks as the groceries was taken out of his grasp, freeing him to open the door. Shoes were kicked off at the door and the shield set down to lean against a wall and he took back the groceries to put them in the fridge, blinking in surprise at the lack of rotten food. He then took in the lack of dust on the counters and shook his head. One of his friends (Tony, or more likely Ms. Potts) must have sent over a cleaner. Groceries put away, he turned to face Bucky.

"Anything you want to do?" Perhaps wrestle again or even just sit quietly together, or even anything else, Steve would be glad to do with Bucky.

He nodded his head a little at the fact that he was helping, but he wasn't about to have to follow Steve back to the store in order for them to eat tonight. He stepped into the apartment after Steve and was immediately on alert that something felt different or maybe that there had been a different smelling cleaning product used. He picked up the small details as he lurked for the source and realized after checking the bathroom and the bedroom that someone had come in and cleaned while they were not here.

He immediately went to the living room and found the couch set to normal, the blankets folded and the fort that had been then reduced to a normal every day living room. He stood staring at the couch like it had somehow betrayed him for now defending itself from being cleaned up. "Someone ruined our spot," he said coldly and marched away from the living room as if it had offended his sensibilities.

Instead, he just returned to the door, bypassing Steve to do so, and went to take off his boots to leave them with Steve's now that there was no actual threat to them.

Their pillow fort taken down by a stranger who didn't understand was...understandable, even if he wasn't happy about it. Steve trailed his fingers along the top of one counter as he headed towards the sound of Bucky's voice, passing Bucky in the hallways as he did so and went to the living room. He stood at the doorway and looked at the pile of blankets on the couch, all couch cushions back in its normal places. The cleaner did a good job and saved him time and effort from having to dust and wipe everything himself, but he'd rather have had to do it himself than have a stranger take apart something they weren't suppose to touch.

Shaking his head, he began to to put the pillow fort back together, one blanket for the ground, another for the roof, and couch cushions for walls. Just like it was before. It wouldn't be exactly the same as before, but it would be close. Hopefully good enough to put Bucky at ease again. He'd not missed the cold tone of his friend's way or the almost angry footsteps.

He knew that any sort of dependence on something as silly as a place to sleep on the floor was ridiculous, that he was being stupid and certainly not reasonable. It was just that that fort had been his and Steve's place, and it had stayed up since the first day that his friend had showed him one. It was like grasping for the past that evaded him more often than not, but that didn't make his reaction any more reasonable. He logically knew he couldn't behave like this, that it was inappropriate to be displeased with someone who had probably only come to help Steve.

He bent and untied his boots, slipping out of them and leaving them next to Steve's assortment of shoes. He returned towards the living room almost sheepishly, peering in as Steve once again put together the fort. He couldn't keep acting like this, he knew. It was childish and unproductive, and he was allowed none of those things as it detracted from his use. He mentally berated himself for ruining yet another moment with his too strong reactions, his displeasure, and his need to stay close to Steve.

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly from the living room entrance way.

Steve tugged the last blanket making up the roof in place before he stepped back to inspect his handiwork. The fort he made today was a bit bigger than before so that it wouldn't be as much of a tight squeeze just to get in. There was also an extra blanket making up the floor and he'd tossed one of his extra bed pillows in as well to make it more comfortable the next time they decide to sleep in there instead of on a bed. He turned towards the entrance, blinking in puzzlement at the soft apology. There wasn't anything to apologize for, Steve thought.

"It's alright Bucky. There's nothing you have to say sorry for." He held out a hand invitingly, hoping Bucky would come closer instead of lurking in the doorway. "You want to try out....hmm...Tony would call it version 2. Pillow fort version 2 it is. You want to try out pillow fort version 2.0 right now?"

[closed to disassembling] - I Thought You Were Dead

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