[CLOSED TO disassembling] - Something in the air?

[whatsfondue]

As Steve sat on a bed in the medical wing of Stark Tower, he wondered if there was something in the air these days that he and Bucky were trading off being injured from month to month. First there was Bucky's leg injury, then he'd been lost in the jungle for a week, followed by Bucky's issues with his arm and now he'd been hit by something of HYDRA's in the last mission to end up like this. This, being the effects of the serum seemingly to have disappeared entirely, leaving him with his pre-serum body and its issues. Tony had gaped at him on listening to Steve's laundry list of medical issues before demanding 'how the hell did you survive into adulthood?' They'd all known he'd been sickly as pre-serum but apparently it had never sunk in as to how bad it actually was. He had to admit it did sound bad on paper but he'd live (mostly) fine for twenty-one years in that body and he'll deal with it today.

At least seventy years later modern medicine has developed far enough that they had medicine to help alleviate some of the symptoms of the worst of his body's poor health. The shots he'd been given and the huge amount of pills laying on the side table was proof of that. Tony was talking about developing some sort of bubble to keep him safe. He appreciated the thought but firmly vetoed that idea. The entire team wanted him to stay in the Tower where JARVIS could monitor his health twenty-four by seven. That he also tried to argue against; he 'd lived alone after his mother's death in this body until the day he joined the army, there shouldn't be any problems with him heading back to his far more upscale apartment.

He scowled darkly and started planning his escape. JARVIS would no doubt tell on him the moment he left but there were still one or two things he could do to make sure he at least got a head start. And once he was back in his apartment, it'll be hard to move him back.

Comments

[whatsfondue]

There had been some concern at how underweight and thin he was as another reason to keep him at the Tower. Steve had simply shrugged it off; what was now called the Great Depression had been going on for more than half his life and then after the war started everything had been rationed. Not to mention what little he heard mostly went towards keeping a roof over his head and food and clothing could be stretched from what left over from that. Steve' stomach grumbled delicately, reminding him of his promise to eat regularly and well during his short stay in the Tower's medical wing, which is easy in the modern day with food available nearly everywhere in America and now that he had no more troubles concerning money.

Steve did as Bucky requested, hopping onto Buck's back and wrapping his arms securely around his friend's neck before resting his chin on the top of one shoulder. "I got irritated and took it out on you. I shouldn't have." He made a mental note to call and apologize to building maintenance afterwards for disappearing like this but right now he was just happy to be heading back no matter the method.

[disassembling]

He hauled them up to the seventh floor and eased out properly so that Steve was safe to settle on the ground again as he forced the metal doors shut and set them in place. He wasn't about to cause a different kind of error for the elevator once someone got down there to fix it, and he had his prize all the same with Steve now successfully on the same floor as him as had previously been intended before the elevator broke down.

"You did?" He wasn't even particularly aware that had happened as he lead the way to the apartment and unlocked it to step inside. "I will cook, yes?" If Steve didn't want to have another bad incident today, it might not be advisable to let the Winter Soldier into the kitchen because he really only knew how to cook with open flame.

[whatsfondue]

Steve was glad to be back on his own two feet, as short as his 'ride' up the elevator shaft was. Several bits of Bucky's body armour had dug uncomfortably into him but more importantly he's never liked being carried around, even out of necessity. It simply felt too much like he was being babied, even from Bucky.

He nodded and followed Bucky back inside his apartment, sighing in relief as he did so. "...sure? The bread in the breadbox should still be good...and there's canned soup in the pantry. Or pasta." He's not sure how much cooking Bucky knows how to do in a modern kitchen but it shouldn't be THAT bad. Both soup and pasta came with instructions on the outside and toast was simple enough. "I'll just go and wash up first...take a shower." There was an unspoken expectation he expected Bucky to change out of the tactical gear as well. He had been sweaty from the long hike between the tower and the apartment, and the elevator shaft wasn't the cleanest either, even if he'd spent the entire way on Bucky's back.

[disassembling]

He nodded his head at the instructions and paused long enough to take off his combat boots before he made for the kitchen. He wasn't allowed opportunity to cook much, if at all, though he had learned things from observation and knew that all food came with instructions. If he kept to the instructions, then nothing could possibly go too badly, right?

He decided on soup first, though there was multiple instructions to pick from. In a medium sauce pan...? He searched around the kitchen until he found one and unwilling to go on another search for the can opener, he simply ripped the top off and dumped the contents into the sauce pan. He put it on the stove and his judgement call on what 'medium heat' was directly middle of the numbers, assuming that was correct. He stared at it, but he was fine to leave once he felt the element heat up under the sauce pan.

Toast didn't actually come with instructions, so it was based solely on what he had seen from others. Tony had a very deluxe toaster, which was most often used by almost everyone - but him of course - so he knew he had to put bread slices in the slots. He turned it on and wandered back to the soup which was still doing a rather lot of nothing, but he was patient and waited, pleased when it began to steam the fill the house with pleasant smells. He read the instructions and stirred it like he was told to.

He was only drawn away at the smell of smoke, which was currently coming from the toaster after a few minutes. He peered at the device in question, but with no instructions on trouble-shooting and little idea of the actual problem, he remembered seeing Clint using a knife to stimulate progress. He did so, but it didn't appear to work in this situation and instead caused sparks to fly from the device on top of smoke. Then the fire alarm was blaring, so he unplugged the toaster which was still spewing black smoke and sparks and put it in the sink because metal couldn't catch fire. He then wandered to the offending smoke detector and reached up to pull the battery. Crisis averted.

[whatsfondue]

Steve had washed quickly, not quite able to stop worrying about what Bucky is doing in the kitchen. Bucky had never actually shown any interest in the cooking process and mostly simply enjoyed the end product, which was fine in Steve's eyes, as not everyone enjoyed or even was good at cooking (Tony being one example). He would have felt better if he could at least watch so he cleaned up as fast as he could. He'd only just gotten dressed in the smallest clothes he owned (and he was still drowning in them) when he heard the fire alarm come on. Rushing out to the kitchen, his hair still wet and dripping Steve barely stopped himself from tripping over the hems of the too long pants.

Okay, this wasn't as bad as it looked or sounded like at first glance. The toaster was still spewing black smoke and sparks but at least it wasn't technically on fire. And nothing else was on fire (yet). He could guess what happened to the toaster; sometimes the toast would get stuck in it instead of popping out the finished product automatically. Usually Steve just popped the lever to force it to pop the toast or the bread will burn. He looked around the kitchen for Bucky, only to find his friend turning off the fire alarm by force. "Bucky...you didn't follow Clint's example of using a knife on the toaster did you?"

[disassembling]

Really, all things considered given this his first real cooking adventure alone in seventy years, he thought he had it all pretty under control. He dumped the battery of the fire alarm on the counter and returned to the soup to stir it now that it was getting nice and heated. He even had the good sense to open a window so that the smoke could clear, but his attention was drawn over to Steve who looked positively comical in such large clothes. "No, it was smoking before I tried a utensil," he said as if that made this the toaster's fault and not his own.

It was still sputtering and sparking in the sink all the same.

He cut more slices of bread and simply buttered them, since he managed to successfully murder the toaster on his first try. He was certain that the device had it coming for not operating in a timely and functional fashion. Too bad about the burning bread though. "Besides, if I really felt the need to knife your toaster, it wouldn't be in pieces. Soup is ready," he said before turning off the heat after another quick stir and dishing it out into bowls. "No toast though. You don't mind bread and butter?"

[whatsfondue]

He'll have to replace the battery of the fire alarm later; it was a matter of safety and also if it goes without power too long it starts to beep rather annoyingly until the battery was replaced. At least, Steve thought faintly, he didn't have to replace the fire alarm entirely. Only the toaster it seemed he'll have to buy outright a new one. "If you've watched Clint use his knife on the toaster you should also have seen Natasha whack him on the back of the head for doing it." Unspoken was the question: why are you following Clint's example of all people?

"No...this is fine. Thank you." Toasted bread would have been lovely and he quickly bit back the suggestion of using a a frying pan on the stove and toasting it that way, which is what they've done hundreds of times during the war on the front. When they had bread. And/or butter or oil. One near-fire related disaster a day was more than enough and he wasn't about to tempt fate, not even with him watching Bucky do the cooking in person. Steve pulled up the pants for the third time since leaving the bathroom and made his way over to get utensils for eating. "It smells good."

[disassembling]

"If you would like to hit me, I will let you," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He had only tried to use that tactic because he had seen it work for Clint more than once when Natasha wasn't actually looking. Of course, he expected that she still knew about it and punished the other man anyway, but he didn't think that Steve would hold it against him too much given he had successfully made a meal and that had to count for something?

He perked at the praise for his prepared meal and wandered out of the kitchen to set the table with bowls of soup as he had helped with before. He returned for the bread and butter in case the slices he had made were not enough for them and eyed the trousers that Steve was wearing. "Why don't you just not wear those? They don't fit anyone, and I've seen you without clothes on. I don't mind."

[whatsfondue]

"I'm not going to do that." There was a touch of exasperation in his voice as he replies. Clint and Natasha were close (he doesn't entirely understand their relationship but so long as they are happy it is none of his business) and that gives them liberties with each other that he wouldn't take with either one of them. He wasn't really the roughhousing type himself, always a bit afraid he will damage another person if he got careless. "Next time just use the lever on the side to get the toast out or if that still doesn't work, come get me if I'm available. Knives are last resort." A broken toaster was a small price to pay for Bucky's first efforts in cooking and any attempts should be encouraged.

Steve half walked and half waddled to the dining room table, one hand holding up the pants at the waist. "It just feels odd going around half dressed." But Bucky had a point about them being alone and having seen each other in various states of undressed. It was also tedious having to hold it up with one hand as he walked. So he strips off the pants, leaving him in the oversized shirt and boxers that looked more like shorts on him.

[disassembling]

To be fair, it wasn't as if any strike that Steve landed on him right now would hurt enough to earn more than a real shrug. He would have liked to point out that the bread didn't come with instructions and Steve's toaster was clearly malfunctioning before he ever got to it. He could see if he could fix it later so that his friend didn't have to endeavor to get another because Tony would probably try to give out one of those enhanced deluxe ones that had lasers and a coffee warmer attached.

He seated himself in the usual spot that he took and watched Steve give up on the idea of pants. He suspected those boxers were only successfully staying up to defy gravity and nothing more. He still began to eat because he had made it and was curious what it would taste like, but it wasn't too bad, pretty much like some of the easy meals that Steve made. "Do you think I should get you clothing that fits?"

[whatsfondue]

If given a chance Tony would probably try to upgrade his entire kitchen with new, state-of-the-art appliances that Steve doesn't really need, not just the toaster. As it is he'll probably bring his current broken one to a shop and see if it could be fixed, and not a word to Tony about it. Steve had to admit the thing had been finicky sometimes but as it was still usable, he kept on using it not wanting to throw it away just like that. It was one of the things that he disliked about the modern world, how everything was so easily disposable.

One of the things that haven't changed much in the last 70 years were canned soup. He had soup a lot back then, it was one of the things he could easily keep down even when his stomach protested against everything else. Nowadays if he was too tired from a mission to cook soup and toast or with something else was the meal he defaulted to if he didn't feel like ordering in. "No...I can live with this for awhile. Bruce has said this shouldn't be permanent and it feels like a waste if I get new clothes only for a few days and then change back." He shrugged, then gave Bucky a wry smile. "Besides, I'm not planning to go out very much and you already said you don't mind me walking around without clothing."

[disassembling]

Since they were staying in, and he had so little to do while guarding over Steve or watching television or movies, he planned on taking the toaster apart and trying to fix it himself. At worst, he had to take it to Tony to repair it, but he was good at picking up skills of his own and sometimes there were memories that came with those attempts for him. He was willing to sacrifice Steve's toaster for this endeavor and perhaps fix it at the same time. It was only fair since he broke it or at least almost cause it on fire.

Nodding his head, he was about as good a shopping for clothing as he was at cooking. While there was something so endearing to having Steve like this, he was also very tolerant to having his friend back in the enhanced body as well. "What if it is more than a few days?" He had mixed feelings on a time frame after all, but he was accept anything and looked pleased at the apparent agreement that they stick together. He might even get out of his tactical gear, which he was still wearing while he was eating. "No, I don't mind at all. We can cuddle in the pillow fort if you get cold."

[whatsfondue]

They would have to go out some time for fresh groceries at some point (or Steve could order in) and he would like to go out for his daily run. Except realistically he kew that the only pair of pants that even came to fitting him in the apartment was borrowed from Tony and completely unsuitable for exercise. It was the same with shoes. Steve sighed and resigned himself to doing light indoor exercise indoor when he gets twitchy. He'd gotten used to being able to run as long and as far as he liked and to have that being taken away again so suddenly took him off balance.

"You don't really need to guard me like this all the time. I'm safe enough here. Or I'll even go back to the Tower." He wasn't going to suddenly go diving out of his apartment and since they've survived today's near-fire incident, he thought it can't get any worse than that. Steve could only shrug at Bucky's question that it might take more than a 'few days'. Bruce couldn't give him a timeline, this was completely new to everyone involved. And if he had to stay like this for the rest of his life, Steve will eventually adapt again. He gave Bucky a firm look. "No weapons or body armour in the pillow fort. Or in bed."

[disassembling]

Oh, he could handle getting groceries with Steve, or that was something that he told himself. He had stolen more than his share of food when he had been on his own, so he didn't think that actually paying for it would be any more complicated. He might even leave some of his weapons at the apartment for that adventure if they were going to undertake it. He didn't mind public places as much as he used to, though he still hid his face from cameras, which was admittedly more difficult. He'd have to grow his facial hair out again, which was annoying and itchy. He liked being clean shaven.

"No, you wanted to be in your apartment, so we're staying here," he said firmly between spoonfuls of soup. He was so focused on Steve and keeping his friend safe with his vigilance that he didn't even particularly enjoy his food. He just ate it. "I will guard you any way that I like too, so you need to stop complaining about it." He narrowed his eyes a little as if to prove his point, though that expression marred when told the new house rule about the pillow fort. "B-but... okay, I accept these terms. I won't wear anything."

[whatsfondue]

If they were going to go out again, he was really going to insist on civilian clothing. Steve doesn't mind a weapon or two (even three, especially if they were hidden) but they were only going grocery shopping and not charging into a HYDRA base or a live war zone. Whether Bucky was clean shaven or kept a beard was up to him (he liked both) so long as it was clean. Same with hair. Steve doesn't want a bodyguard, he only wanted Bucky's company.

He could tell that the amount of 'care' and 'concern' his teammates had for him right now would get oppressive before long, which was why he left the Tower in the first place. Steve finished his soup first before starting in on the bread, chewing carefully with every bite. His stomach had been rather delicate before and he doesn't want to be sick on the food Bucky had worked hard to make. "I'm not complaining." Steve scowled as he replied, still carrying on with the firm look. "Just making a point. And good. You should be comfortable resting and that armor's not comfortable to rest in."

[disassembling]

He was going to be hard-pressed to leave Steve's side at this, more than usual anyway. His general unhealthy dependence on Steve had shifted sideways to an unhealthy need to guard his friend and be close. Natasha had given them a look when they had left, but he hadn't not had time or opportunity to puzzle out the meaning of it. He just knew that it had happened and that Steve had also indicated in the past that such looks often came from her. Perhaps when Steve was back to rights again, he should inquire with her about them.

He was finishing his soup as Steve was halfway through the soup, and then he was also chewing carefully at the bread. It tasted good even without it being toast, so he was content to eat, though he peered at the scowling from the other side of the table. "What point would that be?" He nodded in agreement about being comfortable, and so he would be because Steve had agreed with him about not wearing anything at all.

[whatsfondue]

He was glad Bucky was here. This situation would have been harder to bear if his friend wasn't around, even if he wished Bucky would give up on his insistence that he needed a bodyguard EVERYWHERE. He wasn't completely helpless like this. Steve had caught the tail end of the look Natasha had given them and thinking back on it made him wince. Looks like those usually preceded her cornering him with uncomfortable/incomprehensible questions or notes left on his personal belongings. Notes he usually destroyed as soon as possible after reading but the questions often lingered in his head. At least, it was aimed at him and not at Bucky. So far.

"My point, is that there is no need to guard me everywhere. Especially inside the pillow fort." Now Steve looked a bit suspicious at the way Bucky agreed so readily to no armour and no weapons inside the pillow fort. With the way Bucky was so insistent on guarding him this was too easy.

[disassembling]

It wasn't that Steve was helpless; it was that Steve attracted trouble as flowers attracted bees. He knew it was going to happen and he knew that Steve was unable and even better, unwilling to risk wading into the situation to help out. He figured it was better to be there and be the heavy hitter himself, to stop those kinds of incidences before they got more intense than they should be. Things were different from the forties; now it was just as likely that any kind of heroics ended up with a knifing or a shooting, and he absolutely wouldn't risk Steve to that.

"I will agree the pillow fort is safe," he said with a nod. In fact, he acknowledged that the apartment was probably safe enough, but there was always a time and a place for caution. He ate down the last of his bread and drank the last of the water as well. "Do you want more soup?"

[whatsfondue]

Steve gave Bucky another suspicious look before shaking his head. "No, I'm full." His current body didn't need as much food as he usually did and he had to watch the contents because some things had more potential of making him sick. "I'll clean up since you cooked." He added absently as he began to sort through the medicine that was brought back for the ones he was supposed to take after food. Along with medicine was also vitamin supplements. Refilling his glass of water he began to swallow the numerous pills one by one, grimacing at the taste of some of them.

"Did you want to do something other than skulking around the house in armour?" He asked as he started gathering pots, bowls and utensils for washing, setting aside the thankfully no-longer-smoking toaster to deal with later. It was still early and he didn't feel like sleeping yet despite the way his body still ached from the long hike earlier.

[disassembling]

He narrowed his eyes at the second suspicious look, uncertain what he had done to earn them. He nodded in acceptance to Steve cleaning up and rose from his spot at the table to take his dishes back into the kitchen. He watched from the entrance of the kitchen while his friend was forced to swallow down an assortment of pills, and his pleasure for having Steve back in such a familiar manner vanished. There were very real and very dangerous medical conditions that his friend suffered from, and while he knew that Steve had survived them all and current medicine was very much improved, it was not the way that Steve should have to live for any length of time.

"I will do whatever you ask of me," he said softly, though he could take off his combat gear first. He lingered to watch Steve in the kitchen and even began to remove his kevlar vest and various belts with weapons attached to them as if to show his good faith in not keeping up with being fully armed in the apartment.

[whatsfondue]

The pills in Steve's opinion was a far better option than the things he was forced to ingest seventy years ago. His asthma seems to be under control for now but in case it flares up there was he inhaler instead of cigarettes for him to smoke. Pills to help keep it under control in the first place. The same for his heart problems. Vitamins which were mostly tasteless were a far better option than the liver he ate regular just to keep healthy. There wasn't anything much anyone could do about his spine or his eyesight but all in all this was everything he's lived with all his life and he was used to it.

Steve paused in the middle of washing up and turned to look at his friend when Bucky started to divest himself of the heavy gear, only hearing bits and pieces of Bucky's voice with only one good ear. While he was happy Bucky was finally taking them off, it was at odds with what Bucky was insisting on before. "Bucky? What's wrong?" He put down the pot he'd been scrubbing and padded over on bare feet over to his friend.

[disassembling]

He shifted out of his heavy gear, folding it or at least packing it appropriately on one of the nearby chairs. He pulled off his belts with weapons and munitions and they went on top of his vest, and he turned his head when Steve called out to him. "I am removing my tactical gear so we can spend time in the pillow fort when you're finished," he called, raising his voice a little so that Steve had a higher chance of hearing his full sentences.

He paused in bending to remove his boots when his friend came around the corner and stood up bare chested but still decent. "I am keeping surveillance of us. You don't have to worry about not hearing or seeing something," he assured before actually getting to unlacing his boots and pulling them off one by one. "Or would you like help with washing up?"

[whatsfondue]

Steve heard enough this time, at least to fill in the blanks of what he didn't here. It was something he used to do often, mostly with strangers who didn't know (and who Steve didn't want to know about his ears' limitations). It didn't work one hundred percent of the time, but it was a useful enough trick normally. "Alright. I'm not worried...but thank you." He followed up those word with a smile, then shook his head. "No, I don't need help. I'm almost done." There weren't really all that many dishes or pots to wash, just one pot, two soup bowls, a ladle, two spoons and the plats and butter knives used for the bread and butter.

He paused for a moment to watch Bucky take off the heavy combat boots and returned to the kitchen to wash up as quickly as possible. At least he knows what Bucky wants to do afterwards. He couldn't bring himself to object either. It was always easy to relax in the pillow fort, as odd as it was for two grown men to have one in the first place. When he finished drying the last spoon, he headed towards the pillow fort, expecting Bucky to be there already.

[disassembling]

He nodded his head as he finished removing his boots and set them neatly aside with the rest of his tactical gear. He would, of course, continually be vigilante where Steve was concerned, even as he removed his trousers and set them with the rest of his clothing, adhering to the policy of not wearing anything in the pillow fort. Steve had said so, and he was very pleased by that.

He hid a knife and his handgun under one of the supporting cushions, since he wasn't about to go in there unprotected. He knew that Steve would join him when finished or call for his help if it was required, so he settled into the space that brought him so much peace and rested his head on one of the pillows that had migrated from the bed to this area where he spent most of his sleeping time. It was much too early to sleep, but there was something so protective about this place. With Steve so much smaller, he wondered if being here would bring back some memories for him.

[whatsfondue]

Steve would not understand how his words were actually understood by Bucky until he peered into the cushion fort for Bucky and found him wearing nothing, not even underwear. He opened his mouth to object, then sighed in resignation instead before crawling in next to Bucky himself. He doesn't quite understand Bucky's liking for being naked but he tells himself Bucky's preferences in being clothed or not clothed was just that, his preferences. And his own body's reactions with Bucky's nakedness were his own issues.

After getting in, Steve wiggles around on the blanket on the ground until he was comfortable on his side. Bucky preferred to sleep in here so that was where he slept too usually, plastered close to each other due to both preference and the fact that there wasn't as much space in here as there was in the bed. The blanket fort hasn't changed from when he last went in which was only a day or two ago, but it seemed different now that he was smaller again. "Alright?" he asked, meeting Bucky's eyes with a smile.