entrancelogs | [closed] wander or leave / turn into winter lights

They'll have to take it slow. Bucky isn't sure he's doing the right thing here -- maybe it'd have been better for everyone involved to cut their losses and steer clear of each other, but he doesn't think his not-really-cousin alternate universe self has been permanently scarred by the details of his romantic life. He tries not to wonder if that means anything. This Bucky and his Steve didn't grow up together. They're different people, insofar as they can be.

He doesn't expect a thank you -- it's not the kind of thing anyone needs to be grateful for.

"You can try, short stuff." Bucky raises his eyebrows. Maybe the best way to start is with the time-honored tradition of shit-talking - it's easier, maybe for both of them. "Just don't run back to your room cryin' when I'm done with you."

"Oh if you somehow manage to whoop me--And that's a big if, ya cream puff!--I'll be runnin' to Steve and tellin' him how you beat up a sweet innocent child. Then we'll see who gets all the hugs!" The gauntlet has been essentially thrown down. Of course, he doesn't realize this until it's been said and then a weird look like maybe he just crapped his pants comes over Bucky's face.

"So, are you really--I mean, you two are actually... together or is it just two men in a foxhole kind of deal?" Which he gets. He's... been pretty desperate for contact and a much needed release outside his own hand. It's not like everyone doesn't know what men do in the Army--Hell, he's known since he was young living on a military base--but you didn't talk about it before or after the deed was done. It was a means to an end, essentially.

Bucky quirks a small smile at the first bit, though it's a little bittersweet. He would take it as a joke, maybe, if it wasn't for the last event. He doesn't think Buck realizes that he set it up to sound like a hug from Steve was the ultimate prize.

Bucky opens his mouth and shuts it again, the hint of a flush coloring his face. Sex isn't something he's bashful about, not even the two men in a foxhole kind of deal. It's a little bit Buck knowing about that kind of thing -- though hell, with this kid, he'd be surprised if he didn't. It's Steve, a little being together, and the fact that he's explaining this all to another version of himself.

"It's this kinda deal." Instead of trying to put it into words, he tugs the dogtags out of his shirt and over his head, and tosses them over to Buck. They read Steven G Rogers. "Is it really that big of a surprise?"

What he's really asking is do you feel the same way about your Steve? He knows the only way this can end is badly, but it's like he can't stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

He catches them easily and turns them around to see just what's so special about a pair of--Oh. Holy Lord. They might as well buy wedding rings if they are going to be this sickeningly romantic. His thumb rubs over ever punched letters and abruptly snorts at the question before he even considers it.

Does it surprise him? Well, yeah! It's Steve. He's for all intents and purposes untouchable. Even as his partner, Bucky always remains in awe of him, like he can't quite bridge the last few feet between them no matter how close they are. And maybe it's different because the two of them grew up together. They started on the same level, and going together kind of needs equality right? Where would he find that when he's always looking up? Not that he's thinking of growing keen on the guy! Steve's swell and all, more than swell. But that's the problem. People are supposed to give and take when they're together; he'd have nothing to offer. Bucky's a snot-nosed shit with no future and more baggage than a passenger train.

It's a moot point anyway. "Don't matter," he says, shrugging. "He's sweet on a woman where I'm from."

Bucky opens his hand so the tags can be tossed back his way. He's wondered what he would do if Peggy showed up all of a sudden, but he thinks he knows. Maybe his tags always belonged to Steve, but he knows full well that Steve's tags belonged to someone else first.

He doesn't get a real answer out of Buck, but the avoidance is answer enough. He hums an acknowledgement.

"He cares about you too, you know. Doesn't really matter how. Whether or not you're worthy of that isn't your call to make." They might have led very different lives, but Bucky knows he's going nowhere fast. This kid might be brave and tough as he is mouthy, but it's clear that he doesn't think he's worth much, either.

Edited 2014-12-30 02:03 (UTC)

Oh God, really? Are they going to do this? Spare him the heart-to-heart, other self, he's about ready to wriggle out of the chair in shame as is. The sound of his thick, lumpy swallow is embarrassingly loud when he turns his eyes back down to the tags in his hand. It's something to focus on rather than the man--Himself!--sitting in front of him telling him what he's worth. What's he know, anyway? The guy came out a Sergeant from Basic, and he's been stuck as a PFC for four years to keep up his "identity". That's all he is is an identity: a good ol' boy trained to jump through hoops and crawl through shit. And no matter how much Steve slogs through it, it never seems to leave a mark on him, while he just grows darker, dirtier.

Fuck, this is the last thing he wants to talk about. Fuck him for bringing this up, it's not his goddamn business. Sarge should stick to fucking his version of Steve and leave him out of it. "Whatever, pal." He tosses the tags back, obviously uncomfortable with continuing this conversation if it's all going to be about him.

He gets up from where he's sitting, catching the tags on his way. Even as he re-settles them around his neck, he doesn't break stride until they're eye-level. It's easier now, to see Buck as his own person, and someone Bucky is still somewhat responsible for. He's been through as much as any soldier, and more than most, but he looks so damn young.

"There's no accounting for taste, huh?" He reaches for Bucky's shoulder, and he half-expects a black eye for his trouble. "That whole 'caring about you' bit goes for me too. If you need anything, you know where to find me now."

"None at all," he responds automatically. His only defense against the silence and weight of his words is talking over them. Steve--his Steve--was one of the few people who ever saw good in him, and even then he's fairly sure the man's just blind with sentiment. Everyone else just saw potential to be manipulated, he can see that now. Even if not for evil, but for the bigger picture that Bucky couldn't understand before. He's not bitter, just wiser. Now he's got another brother and he's soaking this praise up to hollow it away for a rainy day.

He stares back at himself into eyes that are different, but very familiar. With a deep breath, Bucky gets a grip on himself, turns his head askance to look at that hand on his shoulder. If there's one thing Bucky's good at, it's ruining a moment. And he needs to ruin this one before he loses his flippant composure.

"Am I gonna have to be watchin' out for arms around my shoulders during movie nights now? Just how far's this 'carin'' gonna spread?" He turns his head back to his older self with that attitude of his. "Do we need to put Steve between us as a buffer?" Then his face gets serious for a moment. "Does he know about us, Buck?" Pfffff!

Edited (html fail) 2015-01-06 01:14 (UTC)

Bucky doesn't really expect anything else. Maybe he'd bail Steve out of the awkward moment after, but if he lets the kid stew a bit, at least he knows something managed to sink into his thick skull. He's not all that bothered by the fact that Bucky goes right for the gutter to break things off. He's spent enough time with other soldiers that all it earns Bucky is the hand from his shoulder shifting to knuckle into the back of his head none too gently.

"I know you grow up handsome, but that seems a little narcissistic, don't you think?"

He doesn't get much further than that. There's the sound of something moving in Steve's room, and then Dodger comes barreling through the puppy door to greet the guest with no small amount of sniffing and jumping at his legs for pets. "You haven't met Dodger, have you?"

"Ahh--Hey!" Ugh, noogies are the worst! Every enlistee on Lehigh must have taken a shot at it for all the years they had been rolling through. It's enough to make a guy spitting mad! But before he can beat the guy back, they both stop when they hear the click of nails on the hardwood floor.

It shouldn't have made him so delighted, but it'd been a long time since Bucky's seen a healthy dog, let alone a sweet fat puppy waddling around. His attention is all for the little guy as he drops his hands down to him and lets the wriggling creature drown him in slobber and puppy bites. He openly laughs, and it's as childish as he claims not to be.

"God, of course you named him Dodger. Poor dog. You two are the biggest pair'a mooks." Yeah, that's right! He said mooks! Fight him!

"Well he's loyal, unlike some other Dodgers I could name." If you don't think he'll be bitter about this until the end of time, you're wrong. He crouches down himself to give Dodger a scratch, but the puppy is far more enamored with meeting a brand new person.

Bucky can't say he minds. It's rare enough to see Buck let his guard down, let alone laugh about something as innocent as puppy kisses.

"He's gonna need a walk now that he's up. You wanna take him out?"

His face wrinkles up for a moment. "Wait, what happened to the Dodgers?" Bucky isn't sure what slack ass service you've been working for, but some of them--namely him--have been fighting this thing called a World War. He hasn't had time to stay up to date with baseball teams and their goings on.

But as it yips and yammers at him, Bucky eventually picks Dodger up so he can smother the puppy with love more easily. And when the older man asks him about a walk, he immediately says, "Yes!" then realizes how embarrassingly fast that had been. "I mean--" Okay, he can fix this! Pull it back just a bit, Buck. "--Yeah, it's not like I'm doin' anything right now... or anything." God, he's so screwed.

"Happens. They're the Los Angeles Dodgers as of the late '50s." He feels like he should cross himself for uttering this goddamn heresy. At least he'll be too busy being brainwashed to care by then.

Dodger, as usual, ignores the whole conversation about his name to charm his way into some other hapless schmuck's heart. Buck's clearly smitten with him, even if he's trying to play it off. Bucky just shakes his head and wanders off to grab Dodger's leash - he can walk without it, but this is only the kid's first time taking him out. He holds the leash out to Buck. "You're gonna bring him back, right?"

"Ohhh, that's just... cruel." He can't stop the smile spreading across his face when he sees his other self's evident pain, but he does feel sympathetic. He really does! A sports team is part of the city you live in. It's a part of that pride and to have it uprooted is a serious betrayal.

Once the man comes back Dodger's already wiggling excitedly in his arms. He obviously knows what's up, and then the leash comes into view and he's barking and whining. Bucky obediently holds him out so they can clip the leash on his collar.

"At this point, I can't promise anything. You been seein' this face?" He scrunches up all the chubby puppy fat for the old man's poor eyesight so he can see. "It's too cute to waste on you bozos anyway..."

Bucky rolls his eyes - seems like he does that a lot around this kid. He's mostly sure Dodger will get back to them in one piece. It may just be later than he expects. Honestly though? That's alright. At least he'll know they're both safe.

Once Dodger is ready to go, Bucky gives the kid a parting hair ruffle. "Yeah yeah, get out of here before he pees on you."

"Augh!" You and your hair ruffling! That's what's really chasing him out the door. he holds the dog in his arms until they make it out the door. Then he sets him down and the puppy immediately takes off on short little legs.

"Whoa--hang on there, buddy!" Bucky refuses to call him Dodger. That is not happening today. But the pup's been through this song and dance enough times to know where he should go; Bucky's just the chaperon on this little adventure. And going down the steps is entertainment in and of itself. By the third floor, however, Bucky scoops him back up and sprints down the last five so they can get out before he actually does wet himself.

"Alright, pal, do your biz..." He lets himself be carried over to some roses bushes, then another one that looks identical, but clearly better than the last because he lifts his leg for this one. Once the formal business is concluded, then it's time to explore and, boy, does this thing have a short attention span. The little guy's worse than Bucky. He's being dragged every which way to smell every single thing that he's pretty sure the puppy's already smelled a hundred times before.

Eventually, though, they hit the jackpot. A big stick Dodger can't help but try and pick up. It's longer than he is, but the guy's determined to drag it along.

"Wanna play fetch?" he asks in a high voice, obviously not expecting an answer. There's hesitation in his hands for a moment, wondering if it's okay to let him off the leash, but.... He should be fine! He's a tiny puppy Bucky can easily run down. He can't get far and no one's really out here. Gently pulling the stick from Dodger's mouth, he arcs it across the manicured lawn and the boy goes right for it, barking and jumping. Watching him drag the thing back is the real treat for Buck. And when he brings it close enough to grab, he showers him with praise and pets. Doesn't make taking the stick away any easier, though. There's growling and promises and bribes until he finally gets him off and throws it again. Now this can seriously keep a little puppy's attention, much longer than Bucky's certainly.

By the fifteenth throw, he decides to take a seat on the grass, and apparently this is breaking news because Dodger comes running back with the stick and starts piling into his lap. He can't lick Bucky's face and carry the stick at the same time, so his new toy is abandoned for now in exchange for a new stimulant. And how can he say no? He tries so hard not to laugh, but eventually he breaks and Dodge licks him on the teeth. That earns a squeal from Bucky, completely undignified if anyone heard it.

"Augh you dirty dog!" Bucky gives him a few kisses back on the head and hold his fat, warm, wiggling body close. As happy as he had been, everything suddenly sinks, like a stone thrown into his stomach. It is so sudden it feels like the world is suddenly plummeting around him. He holds the dog close and he's happy to be held, sniffing into Bucky's dark curly hair. His rough, scarred hands stroke Dodger's back, enjoying the feeling of being kind and gentle for once. He certainly doesn't experience it often, nor the down time to wallow in his own self-pity. He hates it, but he's sure stuck in it now. He's sitting here playing with a dog because what the fuck else is he supposed to do? It's so absurd looking at it now. For almost two years, he's crawled through the mud only for it to grow deeper with every new step. To think what he would have given for a place like this, let a lone a shower, when he was stuck in the trenches. Well, he's seen the price now and he doesn't want it. He wants his brother back--His real brother, not the caring faces that smile at him, but don't know shit about what he's been through. It wears a guy thin day in, day out, and the worst! The worst is... Was Cap even trying to find him? Was he moving Heaven and Hell to rescue him? Did they even know what happened? What if Cap thinks he's KIA somewhere and just leaves him stranded? He thought his faith in the man was unconditional, but he's starting to get tired of waiting. If this is the end to Bucky Barnes' story... He wants to know.

[closed] wander or leave / turn into winter lights

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

Re: action;

action; juuust kiddin! OR AM I??

no subject

no subject

no subject

tsuntsun

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject