entrancelogs | | closed | life moves very fast

[Bucky finds Mettaton on what will be the last day of the event, though of course neither of them know that. He's lounging lazily in an oddly shaped chair covered in some kind of soft pelt when Bucky bursts in, causing Mettaton's eyes to widen a bit in surprise.

The room is covered in glittering, shiny things, bits of reflective glass and jewels and polished rocks piled around the chair and dangling from the ceiling on delicate string. It's a stark contrast to the ugly crags and acid rivers found outside.

The few rays of light that shine down through a hole in the roof glimmer off of Bucky's metal arm and Mettaton's eyes alight onto the man, his mouth tugging into a wolfish grin.]

Well well well. Bucky! With you here, I am much more "ok" than I was before.

[Bucky's never seen so many pretty, shiny things all in one place.

He's curious where Mettaton got everything, but it's really not important. Not when the first thing he thinks when he sees the robot is about how he's willing to do anything, anything, to make things right between them. To manipulate Mettaton into giving him attention and affection, to convince the robot that he's worth caring for - by any means necessary.

He thinks these things and he doesn't know why he's thinking them. Bucky assumes it's where they are, the event.]

Because of me?

[What the hell is wrong with him? He moves closer, and he should be fighting off the urge to manipulate Mettaton into giving him want he wants, but he wants it so badly. All he has to do is say the right things and the robot will let him in again.]

[Mettaton's smile (slightly off, not as warm as it usually is, oddly cold) continues as he slowly changes position on his seat, moving his body with a purpose. He crosses his legs languidly, tucking them to the side as he leans his chin against his hand on one of the armrests.]

Oh yes. Such a pretty face in such a pretty place... it's fitting, I think.

[After a moment's thought, however, he gives Bucky a bit of a pout.]

I don't know why you're here though. The last time we spoke, things didn't exactly go well for us. I'm not in any danger here either so there's no need to worry about me.

[He looks away with an overdramatic sigh. He;ll pull him along for a bit, he thinks. Let Bucky think he can leave and then... keep him! Because the man is beautiful and sweet and he will be his.

The thought sends a thrill through him, even as a much quieter, distant part of him feels unease at his plan. He buries that quickly. If Wonderland wants him to feel something specific, who is he to stop it?]

[Bucky really should be fighting off all these urges. He's aware of them, knows they're happening, and he doesn't want to. He's exhausted and wants a break from trying so hard all the time to be normal. All he has to do is convince Mettaton that he's worth having around, that's he good enough or he will be if he tries harder.]

I'm sorry. [He means it, tries to make his expression and tone show that.] I was.. overwhelmed. You're not supposed to like me. Not supposed to want to have me around.

[He takes another step forward, shoulders hunched up.]

Don't you get it? If I hurt you, I'll never forgive myself.

[That'll be the end of Bucky as he is right now and he's only just now gotten himself to a point where he's minutely stable.]

Oh, is that so? Well, I've always been a bit of a rebel, so that works out fine in my favor!

[He says that so airily, like he doesn't have a care in the world.

All in all, Mettaton's tone and body language don't match to anything he's done before. He's confident, sure, he's charismatic, yes, but the warmth that usually permeates his interactions with Bucky is gone.]

Oh darling, you needn't worry about that! I can't get hurt; I'm untouchable! As a star, I never let these sorts of things get close to me. I have no time for such silly things like that.

[That... feels strange to say. It feels good and bad at the same time and Mettaton's smile falters a bit.

You're not silly he thinks weakly to himself. I actually care quite a...

No. No no. No. Not this again. This event has been freeing him of the burden of these feelings and emotions and it has felt so good. He doesn't want it to end.

He sits up abruptly, forcing his smile to be right again.]

If you're truly sorry, you're required to make it up to me. Simple as that.

[Bucky allows emotion to show, face scrunching up in distaste at the way Mettaton speaks to him. Something's different and he can't tell if it's where they are or because of their last conversation. The thought that it could be the latter brings that ache back to the surface and he'd rather let all those other weird traits he's feeling squash that down and out, anything to keep that dull pain from settling in his chest again.

He straightens as soon as Mettaton does, hyper aware of his movements.]

Okay, but how?

[The crueler version of Bucky that lies dormant scratches at him, reminds him of how the other responds to flirting, to Bucky's touch and kiss, and that if he plays that angle, he can manipulate Mettaton into forgiving him. It's irrational, and wrong, but he wants that, wants them to be okay.

It's like a switch flips, mouth quirking up as he takes a step forward.]

Is there somewhere we can sit together?

[He’s intrigued by the way Bucky snaps to attention, and Mettaton’s face breaks open into a hungry smirk.]

Yes.

[He leans back into the chair again.]

My lap, for starters. If that’s not to your tastes, I have other beautiful pelts and things we can sit on.

[Leaning back moves the current covering of the chair that the robot is sitting on, pulling it to reveal a portion of one of the legs. The stark whiteness of the bones that make up the leg stands out against the general brown tones of the hut they are in. The haphazard mess of non-humanoid and humanoid hard tissue continues on underneath the pelt; it’s not hard to assume that the entire throne Mettaton is sitting on is made of the same thing.]

[Bucky's eyes flit to the chair, what it's made of, but it doesn't hold his attention. Mettaton does. He's ruined things between them once already, and even if this doesn't fix them for good, he's still going to try. Bucky's big, solid, too, but Mettaton is bigger, can hold his weight.

He crosses the room and climbs into Mettaton's lap, straddling, both metal thighs sandwiched between his own.]

It's to my tastes.

[His hands smooth down Mettaton's arms, back up again to rest on his shoulders. Bucky wants this, whatever it ends up being, and since they're still learning each other, figuring out what does and doesn't work, he just tells him to save time.]

Don't pin me down. Everything else is fine.

[Bucky's eagerness and straightforward response is a damning encouragement, and Mettaton wastes no time in reaching out to grab at the man as he straddles him.

It feels good to have him here. It feels right. This is a natural and consequential happening. After all, a Monster like him is entitled to anything he desires, and his desire for this human is great.

His arms wind themselves around Bucky's waist, enjoying the solid and warm body pressed to him.]

Everything else is fine...? That's a dangerous thing to say, my dear. You have no idea what I could ask of you with a statement like that.

[He wouldn't ask for much, of course. He'd just ask for everything. Everything and anything he can give him. And more.]

[Bucky knows what he's saying, what he's telling Mettaton. It's permission, something that Bucky has to give in order to be able to do this. He doesn't think Mettaton would ever take without asking first, but verbalizing consent is more for him than anybody else. Hearing himself say that something is okay, that he wants it, is how he allows himself to do it.

He might not want things exactly like this between them, but he's desperate enough to fix them that he'll take anything.]

Then ask it of me.

[His legs tighten, hands gripping as he tugs Mettaton up and into him.]

Stop talking about it and do it.

[Normally Mettaton would at least consider someone else's feelings before doing anything like this towards them, but here, there is no one else's regard that matters but his own. Only his own pleasures and desires to fulfill.

His grin turns wicked as Bucky tugs him closer.]

Weeell... since you insist.

[He tilts his head towards one of Bucky's ears, close enough to whisper. There's no breath to tickle the flesh but there is the low mechanically sultry tones of his voice to tantalize and ensnare, all the same.]

What I want is everything. Everything and anything you can give. I want to have you, Bucky. Possess you. And now that you're here, I do.

[His head moves away from his ear to his neck, leaving small, gentle kisses as he goes. A small voice stirs in the back of his mind again. No, don't say that. That could hurt him. Don't you remember what those awful people did to him?

Mettaton pauses a bit, hovering over the juncture of Bucky's shoulder and neck. It's a small struggle within him for a moment, his darker tendencies fighting against the moral voice inside him trying to rise to the surface, but his indulgences win and he promptly bites down on the man's skin. It's hard and unforgiving and sure to leave a pretty nasty mark.]

I own you.

[He speaks that into Bucky's skin, his teeth pressed against him still. He can feel Mettaton's grin. The little voice of morality seems almost panicked now, but he ignores it.]

[Everything was a lot and Bucky didn't really think he had that much to give anyone else. All the good left in him was almost gone, dried up and stripped from him.

A shaky breath slips out, and wonders if that's the price he has to pay. Is letting someone else posses him, take and control everything he has, the only way that he can ever be with someone else? His mind gives him two answers at the same time, yes and no, but the no is soft and desperate, and that yes echoes over and over until he can't hear the no anymore.]

Mettaton.

[His body is tense, shuddering at each soft kiss, and something breaks in him when the robot bites down - it hurts, a lot deeper down than physical pain. Bucky makes a sound at those words, a broken, wounded sob that catches in his chest and causes everything else to shut down. He goes pliant, submissive, a responsive body without anything that is distinctly Bucky in his movements.

He wants this. It's not something he should.]

[It's the sob more than anything else that makes Mettaton stop his movements. His hands, which had started to creep their way up and under Bucky's shirt, pause in their tracks, his gloved fingers gentle against his skin.

He buries his head into Bucky's shoulder and is silent for a moment. He can't think straight. Bucky has become so willing, so submissive, so compliant in his arms and he wants nothing more than to touch and taste and feel everything he can take from the man-

But.

This is not Bucky. This is not the Bucky he knows Bucky wants to be. This is not the man that he is.... that he cares for.

Mettaton is not the person he wants to be for him.

He finally lifts his head, his hands slipping out from Bucky's shirt to cradle the man's face. His thumbs softly stroke his cheeks and he looks him in the eyes.]

I...

[It's hard. It's too hard, too quick, his mind reeling. It feels like he's drowning, swimming desperately for the surface as the undertow pulls him down, back to the murky depths below. He can't say sorry now. How do you say sorry for this?

He's hurt him. He never wanted to hurt him. He shouldn't have let himself get like this, and even now he can barely do anything, can't even apologize and tell him that he deserves better because the thought of ripping his clothes off and fucking him until he screams his name loud enough for the entire realm to hear keeps him rooted in place.

Finally he moves, wanting so desperately to press his lips against Bucky's, shower him in small, delicate kisses. He resists, instead leaning down and pressing their foreheads together.]

Not here. Not like this.

-1 to ZEZPQB BT FRESMNF IZDVZ BEFVQN GC NBVBW

What?

[He's slow to respond. Mettaton is stopping now and they haven't done anything. It feels like a rejection, a failure, as Mettaton pulls his hand out from under his shirt and tells him that he's changed his mind. Bucky's not in the right head-space to be graceful, or accepting, of Mettaton backing out before they've started.

It's like waking up from a dream - he'd fallen into it one man and was coming out of it another. He drags his metal hand up to Mettaton's throat, gripping and shoving him back against his throne.]

Yes here. Yes like this.

[Because if not now, then when? Bucky was in danger of cracking. They weren't together, not even friends anymore, back in Wonderland, because he'd messed it all up. Now, when it had seemed like he'd at least get something, even if it was wrong, it's being taken from him, because he hadn't been strong enough to handle it. He wasn't good no matter what he did. So if Mettaton didn't want good, then he'd give him the opposite.

It all makes him angry, desperate.] You want me, I know you do.

[He squeezes his fingers just enough to apply a little pressure, and then pushes in and kisses Mettaton hard. Bucky drags his teeth across his lower lip, tries to slip his tongue into Mettaton's mouth.]

[He's so wrapped up in his own head, his own problems, that he's not expecting Bucky's sudden aggression, his defense down. The metal hand wraps around his throat and while he doesn't breathe, for a moment it feels like his "breath" is taken away by surprise as he's shoved backwards.

"Because they are made of magic, monsters' bodies are attuned to their SOUL. If a monster doesn't want to fight, its defenses will weaken. And the crueler the intentions of our enemies, the more their attacks will hurt us. Therefore, if a being with a powerful SOUL struck with the desire to kill... Um, let's end the chapter here..."

Intentions and the way they reflect in magic has been a constant in Mettaton's life, from his days as a ghost to his days as a robot. He can feel the intent behind this attack, even as his head hits the back of the throne and he feels his HP (already lower than usual due to this event's stripping of his electronics) take a small hit. Bucky doesn't want to kill him, he can feel it. But the desire to hurt and control is still there.

He can always recognize Alphys's work. She puts her magic into soldering metal, works her intent to build and create into whatever shape she wants. He'd always admired that about her. He should tell her sometime. This recognition just makes this feeling of the arm she made for Bucky all the more alien, feeling her latent magic sparking and responding to Bucky's emotions and feelings.

Funny. This almost feels like a Monster encounter....

FIGHT ACT ITEM MERCY

...

MERCY]

Bucky, this can't- you have to understand that we-

[He squeezes and Mettaton unwittingly opens his mouth. He doesn't think of a smart response before Bucky's mouth is on his, his tongue inside his mouth and he groans a bit. He missed Bucky's taste, missed his hands on his body, and he feels his resolve chip away just a little as he kisses back.

It takes him another moment, his metal tongue twisting around Bucky's before he wrenches himself away again.]

Bucky, please. This isn't you. This isn't me. What's the... the point of this if we aren't ourselves?

[* Mettaton is sparing you.]

No.

[It felt good, Mettaton's mouth against his own, the tongue in his mouth - as if it was all leading towards something that they'd both enjoy. But then he stops it. He stops it and it's another rejection and Bucky doesn't know how much more of this he can take.]

You didn't want me then, not really.

[He presses his mouth to the corner of Mettaton's, presses hurried, desperate kisses across his jaw, down his throat to meet his hand.]

You would have fought for me. [Bucky squeezes his hand again, stretches out his fingers and drags his palm down Mettaton's chest.] But you want me now. I can tell, you don't have to pretend here.

[Bucky doesn't like the way his voice sounds, doesn't want to hurt Mettaton. He hates that he feels that this is the only way to get what he wants, for them to be together. His body aches as if something else is pulling the strings, tugging too tight, hurting him.]

Why are you doing this to me? [He leans back, hands settled on Mettaton's shoulders, gripping.] Decide now.

[You didn't want me then, not really.

Oh how wrong he is. Mettaton wants him more than he cares to admit, more than someone like him should. He wants him in every way he can have him, good and bad, and oh how tempting is the bad right now.

Bucky is practically throwing himself on him, and once again his resolve is shaking as he feels those kisses, so sweet, on his jaw and throat. His lips brush one of those special sensors and he lets out a small moan. He shifts as he unconsciously tries to give Bucky more room on his lap.

His hand feels strong and sure as it drags down his chest and for one wild moment Mettaton wonders if Bucky will go for his soul. Will he try to grasp it? Take it? What kind of beast would they become then? The powers of a god, a mixture of human and monster in one. ...No. That's silly. Mettaton isn't a Boss Monster. His soul wouldn't last long enough outside of his body for Bucky to absorb it.

He comes back from his thoughts as Bucky continues speaking. Decide now he says, and he considers what he wants.

Bucky wants to be possessed. Why else would he be acting like this? He is offering himself up to Mettaton on a silver platter, and that old voice, temporarily silent in the wake of his original horror, surges back to life gleefully.

He wants this. You want this. Why deny what you both want? Take him. Own him. Use him. Destroy him. He'll let you. He'll let you do a n y t h i n g if you just give in. Don't you want a human as your plaything?]

I do want you, Bucky.

[He can't pretend here. He's right.]

But I can't do this to you. I won't be like them. I won't be like those people who hurt you.

[He says this even as his hands shake with the effort to keep himself from wrenching the man forward and demanding he please him, ordering him to fall into place and let him use Bucky however he wishes.

Perhaps, if things between them become better, they could... "Explore" this sort of thing again. But here? Like this? It's poisonous. He couldn't take care of the man like he would need if he actually...]

I've decided that this won't go further. And I'm not afraid to make sure you understand that.

[His soul aches. It's tired from sustaining him. But it will make bullets if needed. Mettaton will FIGHT if he needs to.

FIGHT ACT ITEM MERCY

ACT

* Check

* BUCKY BARNES ??? ATK ??? DEF
* He's giving you no choice]

[Bucky breaks, cracks from the inside out.

He never wanted Mettaton to be like them, but Bucky caused this. He pushed and pushed out of desperation. He wanted them to still be close, didn't want to lose him, so he'd resorted to manipulation to make it happen. He'd tried to flirt and seduce, to make Mettaton take him so that they could still be together and what did that make Bucky, if not exactly like the people he hated so much.]

I understand.

[There's a moment where his eyes flick up in confusion, at the threat of a fight, of pain, and then they go cloudy again, dark. He feels dazed, not himself anymore.]

I understand. [The same words, though in Russian.] I understand.

[He pushes back from Mettaton, stumbles out of his lap and off the throne, movements stilted and abrupt, robotic. Bucky complies, he'll go, he has to. He doesn't know where to go, but he has to leave. He turns towards the door, mumbling the same words under his breath, switching from Russian to English, the languages bleeding together as his own confusion mounts.]

[The man crumbles in front of him and Mettaton is too exhausted to do anything other than watch in bewilderment as he switches from one human language to the next.

He hurt him. No matter what he did, he hurt the man, whether it was pulling him close or pushing him away. He slumps in his ill-gotten throne as he watches Bucky stumble, completely useless.

Mettaton should do something. He should get up and do something, maybe help the poor man. But he does nothing. He can't bring himself to do anything. He feels empty; stretched so thin having used what little empathy and compassion he had left.

Hell sinks its tenterhooks into him quickly once his guard is down, once he gives up on trying to help. It fills the emptiness with darkness and a small smile creeps on his face. How much better it is to not care anymore! Thank goodness that's over.

See you later, Bucky~! ♥]

[ That's the thing about sleeping next to someone almost every night. When events like these happen, changing everything around them overnight, you at least get to react to the sudden shift with someone else at your side.

Steve's eyes open slowly and he twists his body away from Bucky's touch, part of him still wanting to sleep more until he realizes that the hard surface underneath him isn't his mattress. No, it's cracked rock with bits of brown weeds sticking out, and as he lifts his head he realizes just how far from Wonderland they've gone this time.

Except, in a strange way, they're still right where they've always been. Wonderland is weird that way. ]

... Well, this is new.

[ Every event is new, technically, but this change is more drastic than most. The heat is the next thing that Steve registers as he pushes himself to his feet and realizes that the air is thick around him because it's so hot.

He looks back to Bucky. ] You all right?

[Bucky mimics Steve, rolling to his feet and glancing around them. It's hot and dry, and knowing how events usually go, this wouldn't even be the worst part of it.]

No.

[He rolls his eyes, at himself. His voice is gruff, annoyed, and it has nothing to do with the man standing nearby.]

Yeah, I'm fine.

[Shrugging, he makes a mental note of what he's wearing. Hardly nothing. As he'd grown more comfortable, and bold, with Steve, he'd started wearing less and less to bed. Partly because it meant less to take off if things went that way again and he trusted Steve to see him that vulnerable. Now, though, boxers and a sleeveless shirt weren't going to protect him from anything wherever they had ended up.

His expression softens, and he reaches out to brush his fingers down Steve's arm to his hand.]

Are you?

[ Well, Bucky has a point. Nothing is really "all right" when they keep getting tossed into situations like this one. Steve isn't much better off when it comes to what he's wearing, either; he's got some sweatpants and a tank-top on. It doesn't look like they'll be able to find any other clothing around here, either. On the bright side, they won't be burning up due to over-dressing.

When Bucky draws closer and reaches out for him, Steve grips his hand and squeezes back. It's just a small reassurance, but it can mean a great deal.

After that, though, he pulls away while nodding, taking in their surroundings with a put-out sigh. At least there look to be some basic structures around them, although the landscape stretches out much further, hinting that there's lots of exploration to be done. ]

Guess we'd better get a lay of the land.

[ He shrugs and makes for the closest building. ]

[It's the smallest touch, a simple grip, but it means a lot to him.]

Alright.

[Bucky understands they've got to figure out where they are, or at the very least, what's going on around them. He remembers himself and he remembers Steve, so it's not one of those events. There is unfamiliar terrain, but no immediate threat - that's enough to concern him. Nothing that happens in Wonderland is ever that simple.

He keeps pace with Steve, scanning the area around them as they get closer to the building.]

Any idea what's going on here?

No, I think this is a little above my pay grade.

[ The words come out of Steve's mouth more curtly than he means for them to, and he frowns as he tries to examine why. It's not like Bucky had asked anything offensive, so there's no reason for Steve to get snappy now. Maybe it's because he just woke up, and it's hot, and he's sick of these events.

He makes it inside the building, which at least shields them from the heat for a short time. It's nothing more than a basic living area, but there's no one there. The only noticeable decoration is the painting of a human-like figure that's up on the wall.

It doesn't give them much to go on, and Steve sighs to himself as he reaches for his phone in his sweatpants pocket. It's probably too early to expect any sort of explanatory announcement, but he checks all the same. ]

[That's great. Bucky rolls his eyes and makes a sound in the back of his throat. He wants to say something smart, give it right back, but they need to get somewhere safe before he wastes any energy giving Steve a hard time.]

Okay, Steve.

[He's just as curt, elongating the way he says his name, expression blank as they make it inside the building. Bucky checks the room for weak spots, circling back and folding his arms over his chest.]

Anything?

[That frustration he'd felt earlier is building, settling low in his gut and making him want to be an ass. He knows it and he's not so sure he wants to do anything to stop it.]

[ Steve shifts his weight restlessly and shakes his head as he gets further and further back on the log. No one has anything to say about their situation, and as he looks at the icon on the corner of the phone screen, he notices that they service isn't great here either.

Makes sense.

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Steve makes for the door they'd just come through, leading them out into the heat once more. ]

Guess we're just gonna have to figure this out for ourselves.

[ Even if he's agitated, Steve knows that it's good that he has Bucky at his side during this newest event. ]

[Bucky follows Steve out into the heat, eyes narrowed, body tense. If he were alone, he'd find cover in the best vantage point, scope out his surroundings, and wait until nightfall to make any big movements. There's a couple of problems with any of that now though - he doesn't know the area, it might never get dark and Steve's here.

Where Bucky feels safer acclimating to the situation from a place of relative secrecy, Steve charges right out into it, not that that's necessarily the worst choice.]

We shouldn't be out here. There's no cover and we don't know what kind of event this is.

[He jogs up beside Steve, reaching out to grip his shoulder and slow him down.]

It's not safe.

[ It's not like Bucky's wrong, exactly, but Steve's never been one to take a cautious approach. Strapping a giant target to his back and roaring into a battlefield on a motorcycle is more his style. Bucky, though -- Bucky's a sniper, used to finding a point of cover and surveying an area, picking off threats as he spots them.

Normally Steve would try to find a way for both of them to play to their strengths, but he isn't thinking straight right now. Must be the heat getting to his head, but he isn't aware enough to stop himself. ]

If we just stay here, we're never going to figure out what's going on. Whatever's out there could just come to us.

[ In other words, he's going to be difficult about this and dig his heels in until he gets his way. ]

You can stay if you want, but I'm going. [ Nothing's going to change his mind on that, apparently. ]

Would you just stop for one goddamn second.

[Bucky's grip tightens and he uses that leverage to force Steve to stop, pushing his shoulder hard in an attempt to get him to turn back around.]

All I'm asking is we find higher ground, look things over.

[Playing it safe might not be the best option either, and he may not be as stubborn as Steve, but he sure as hell will be right now. He's a good soldier, knows when to fall into line, but if Steve gets hurt and Bucky couldn't help him, he'd never forgive himself.]

So that's it? [Now that frustration is tinged with hurt and he's pissed.] We don't agree and you leave?

[ It's one thing for Bucky to grab for his shoulder, it's another for him to start shoving at him like that. Steve turns around, but he isn't happy about it. Right now, he feels like Bucky is the one who's overreacting, not him.

He should have been able to fight off these kinds of feelings, but since they've only just woken up, he hasn't gotten a handle on the situation yet.

Hate magic is what Faith had called it, but Steve doesn't have the presence of mind to realize that right now.

Steve narrows his eyes at Bucky, jaw set. ] You're turning a mountain into a molehill. I don't care what you do, but I explained my part of it. You have to decide whether or want to go or stay.

[ It doesn't need to be anything more personal than that, as far as he's concerned. ]

[Bucky's mouth pinches at the corners, briefly, and if this were anyone other than Steve, he'd let the mask come back down. He folds his arms over his chest, leveling Steve a look.]

Is that how this is supposed to work?

[He knows this is some kind of event, that normally he'd take all of this a little better, but it's eating him up and he doesn't like the way either of them are acting.]

You tell me what to do and I do it or you leave without me? [His eyes flick to Steve's jaw, the stubborn set of it, back to his eyes.] Well, fine, Steve. Go.

You've made your choice.

[ Hearing it phrased like that actually snaps Steve out of it for a moment, infusing him with some self-awareness as he stares at Bucky, unclear on what even came over him. Bucky is right, he shouldn't simply expect him to fall in line just because he's always been there before. It's not supposed to work like that.

Unfortunately, it looks like the damage is already done, and Steve's not sure if apologizing would fix anything now. Not with that steely look in Bucky's eyes.

Steve sighs and drags a hand up the back of his neck and then through his hair. ]

I didn't... [ He trails off and shakes his head. ] Fine. Then I'll come find you later.

[Bucky makes a sound, a low, angry noise, and turns away to head back into the building. He says fine, too, but it might have been in Russian. His head isn't on straight right now, and he's got an ache in his chest from the sting of Steve's words.

He goes up a few floors and then finds a good vantage point to watch where Steve's going. Bucky only manages to maintain that position for a few minutes before Steve gets out of his line of sight and a small wave of panic hits him.

After that, he follows Steve. Close enough that the man knows he's there without actually getting near enough that they can talk to one another. Bucky doesn't mean to track him, but he can't shake that he's supposed to stick by his side no matter what.]

[ Almost as soon as Steve is on his own, he regrets what he did. There was no reason to turn that discussion into an argument in the first place, and now he's out in unfamiliar territory alone, and who knows what's even out here in this wasteland?

He's too stubborn to actually turn back, though, and so he convinces himself that he can handle things alone, at least up until he hears movement behind him and realizes he's being followed.

Steve turns toward the noise, and it isn't long before he spots Bucky behind a grouping of rocks. He could have remained silent if he'd chosen to, which means that he wanted Steve to notice. ]

What do you want? [ The words come out more harshly than Steve means to, and he sighs in frustration. What's wrong with him, that he can't seem to control his own mood? ]

[Bucky frowns, standing up and taking a quick look around them. They're alone, as far as he can tell. Doesn't seem like things are going to be any better between them, so he'll have to tough it out.]

I don't want anything, Steve.

[He crosses the space between them and points at Steve's chest.]

You're an ass, but I'm not leaving you out here alone. [He's being one, too, but he's not going to point that out.] So suck it up.

[If Steve tells Bucky to leave again, it'll be too much, but he'll do what he asks.]

[ Bucky has never shied away from being blunt with Steve about when he's being an idiot, but it still isn't very often that he'd call him an ass. That alone is enough to snap Steve out of whatever hold this place has on him for a moment, his mouth twitching with amusement.

Really, it's good to see Bucky assert himself like this, and it's true that there's no point in them continuing this argument when there had really been little point to it in the first place. ]

Sorry. [ He shakes his head and sighs. ] Don't know what's come over me, but I'll try not to snap at you anymore. You didn't do anything wrong.

[ There, at least he's smoothed things over a little. Steve glances over his shoulder when he hears a distant roar. ] Anyway, probably not much time for fighting right now anyway... sounds like we've got work to do.

[Bucky deflates. It's as much his fault as it is Steve's.

There's no reason that he couldn't have followed his lead, he's good at that, he trusts Steve to make the right call, but he hadn't. He'd lashed out and only made things worse.]

I'm sorry, too.

[He opens his mouth to say something else when he hears that sound, eyes snapping up as he shifts to put himself between Steve and whatever the hell that sound was.] Let's go.

[This time, though, he steps to the side so that Steve can take point while he watches their backs.]

| closed | life moves very fast

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PDA CW and uh. Slight injury as well haha WHOOPS

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cw for a grumpy bucky lmao

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