{Open

[notworthallthis]

Bucky Barnes ~ MCU

Comments

@ matreshka

[notworthallthis]

[1. So I shouldn’t spend the therapist's co-pay on Jaeger bombs?]

——

How about you just tell me where you are right now, and we call it even?

[matreshka]

I could, but where's the fun in that?

[ Nowhere, that's where.

(Brat? Her? Abso-freakin'-lutely.) ]

[notworthallthis]

I wasn’t aware we were playing cat and mouse.

[Is he flirting? Yes- give him a break, it’s been awhile.]

[matreshka]

CAN you still play cat and mouse at your age? :')

[ He is older than Steve, after all — and flirting, well... Natasha's out of practice, herself. It's been a long time since flirting wasn't just a strategically deployed web used to disarm a target, or a deflection to keep someone from getting close enough to see past The Widow's carefully constructed defenses for Natasha.

(That she goes right to teasing him about his age probably says more than she wants it to for anyone who's cracked her code, though.) ]

[notworthallthis]

You know just how to bruise a man's ego.

[He looks pretty damn good for his age, if he does say so himself~]

[matreshka]

So that's a no?

[ He'll get no argument from her on that; 105 never looked better. ]

[notworthallthis]

I don't think that's actually what I said.

[It’s the banter for him— he could live on it, if someone would just indulge him for it forever.]

[matreshka]

Actually, I'm pretty sure it is. You know what they say, coherence is the first thing to go.

[ It's really memory, but Natasha is as careful with the way she teases Bucky as she is with teasing Steve. She's irreverent, but unlike Tony she won't turn Steve's (or Bucky's) trauma into a punchline. (They deserve better.) ]

[notworthallthis]

Is that what they say?

[He appreciates it; it’s a line she dances along the edge of gracefully, leaning into the teasing without actually managing to trivialize everything else. She’s good at it. He isn’t surprised.]

Are you going to at least give me a hint? Or are you really so keen to drink alone tonight?

[If anything might have a chance of getting him drunk, it’s Asgardian booze. And maybe that isn’t exactly what one might call a healthy coping mechanism, and by no means does he intend to let it be a crutch, but one night?

Bucky knows that he can’t allow himself to get too carried away, that the allure of escapism would be enticing to down in if he let himself, but his mind gone delightfully numb and decent company for it to boot? It sounds nice.

He could use just one night like that.]

[matreshka]

Or so I've been told.

[ Gossamer threads or a razor's edge between flirting and the decent side of affectionate irreverence, The Widow was made to dance on the thinnest of lines and make it look easy. ]

You mean you haven't already just figured it out? For shame.

[ They both know he can; he tracked her in Odessa, after all — she has the scar to prove it. And they all have their unhealthy coping mechanisms. In the grand scheme of things, an Asgardian hangover is barely a blink on the scale.

(Honestly, they could both use a night like that.) ]

[notworthallthis]

The texts, the banter, it's good. He could truly sustain off of it well enough if he needed to. Wanted to. Truth is? He'd rather have the company in person. Plus, he's interested to test this theory of hers, too.

It isn't hard to find her, but it isn't like she was actually trying to hide, either. He smirks as he leans in the doorway and invites himself in with a soft, "Does that make you the mouse?" he asks with an amused lift of his eyebrows.

@pointedsouth

[notworthallthis]

[2. He kept saying “I’m getting chicken parmesan and no one is going to stop me!”]

——

Fair enough.
I won’t let him suffer too much, promise.

[Being something of a caretaker isn’t completely foreign to him.]

How’ve you been?
Busy lately?

going for post-cw but pre-iw

[pointedsouth]

Good. I can sympathize a little less now.

[ Nobody knows that better than Steve.

With most people, he can get away without actually answering that first question... He's wishing he was there with them. Sam had gotten hurt on the last mission and so they'd dropped him off in Wakanda to recover, jetting off again before even getting the chance to say hello. ]

Busy's one word for it.
I think Natasha has a thing for pirates. We keep finding them anyway.

perf <3

[notworthallthis]

What's another word for it?

Pirates, really?
Color me intrigued.

<3

[pointedsouth]

Occupied.

Don't be. There hasn't been a single treasure chest so far.
I'm honestly feeling a little cheated.

[notworthallthis]

That doesn't make it sound any better, you know.

Such a rip-off.
What kind of pirates have no treasure?

[pointedsouth]

Oh is that what I was supposed to be doing? How about engaged?

[ Sarcasm always saves the day, right? And he was sort of married to the job before--now he's moved onto something new. ]

Unsuccessful ones.
Could be buried still. If only I had a shovel, I'd show them how it's done.

[notworthallthis]

Now that's a better word.

[He misses this. This back-and-forth of the two of them. Once his memories were... intact... it was easy with Steve. Comfortable. Like a well-worn glove.]

Clearly. Pirates who don't do anything.
If only there was some place for you to find a shovel.

[pointedsouth]

Now it's your turn to pick a word.

[ He's missed it too. Getting to have Bucky be comfortable around him again is better than any buried treasure he could imagine. ]

Well they sail around, wave flags, blast canons at each other. It's all for show.
Not many shovel shops in the Indian Ocean, if you can believe it.

[notworthallthis]

Absorbed. Involved. Engrossed.
I can keep going, if you want.

Sham pirates. A mockery to the name of all pirates everywhere.
Well, that's just a shame.

[pointedsouth]

I meant about how you're doing, you jerk.

Hey, more treasure for me, if I ever find that shovel.

[notworthallthis]

You miss me.
I’m… I don’t know.

[It’s a couple minutes before he settles on the words to use.]

Healing. Processing. Adjusting.

When it hits, it’s bad… and I don’t think it’ll ever stop, Steve…

[pointedsouth]

Like there’s no tomorrow, pal.

All good things.

You can't think like that, Buck. I can't tell you that it'll stop, but that doesn't mean it'll always feel as bad as it does now. If anyone can help stop it for good, it's T'Challa and that genius sister of his. So you just take it easy and let them help you, alright?

[notworthallthis]

That text makes something warm and bright flood through his chest. Somehow, despite everything, Steve refuses to give up on him, and some days that is the only thing that gets him through.

He doesn’t bother texting him back, instead he presses the call button and listens to the phone ring.

[pointedsouth]

Seeing as he'd just had his smartphone in his hands to send the text, he answers after the first ring.

"Hey. Give me a minute." He heads to the back of the Quinjet for some degree of privacy; Natasha's kind enough to pretend to be engaged at the controls even though it's on autopilot.

"Felt the need to argue with me over the phone, huh?" Testing the waters to see if Bucky's still in the teasing mood after his last text.

[notworthallthis]

"Just nice to hear your voice sometimes," it's a soft, quiet admission, but there is no hesitation in it.

He considers his next words carefully, easing back in the chair he's sat in. "When... when can I see you again? We're about due for a visit, don't you think?"

[pointedsouth]

"It's good to hear you too, Buck." His voice sounds just as soft and sincere.

He leans on an arm against the back wall, staring at the floor. It's a good thing Bucky can't see his face right now, he's not sure he wants to be responsible for what it's doing. He has half a mind to turn this thing around right now, but he needs to be sure about this. "...I thought you wanted some time to yourself."

[notworthallthis]

“I know,” he hums a soft, noncommittal sound in his throat. He continues in the same soft, careful tone, “but it’d be good to see you.”

He misses Steve in a way he cannot put into words, so much as it is simply a feeling, burrowed deep beneath his skin, filling in the hollow spaces between his bones.

“You don’t have to stay…” he says it like an offer, an easy way out if he wants to take it. “just come by for a little while…?” He could. Bucky knows it would be relatively easy, borderline effortless, for Steve to change course and come for him.

He adds, even quieter than before, “if you’re not too busy.” because he knows that Steve has other things to focus on. Bigger issues than catering to the chaotic whims of an old friend. “I understand if it’s… not feasible right now.”

[pointedsouth]

He's not sure what to make of all these quiet little bids for his attention, or the fact that Bucky somehow thinks that he would even want an easy way out when he's never taken the easy way out in his entire life, when all he's wanted this whole time since Bucky's been uncovered is a way in--all he knows for sure is that it's tearing him apart. Now he needs to see Bucky.

"Bucky--" It comes out a croak. He has to clear his throat, get a grip, but he needs to say this because apparently Bucky doesn't already know that he would drop everything for him. "If you want me there, I'll be there. All you have to do is say the word and I'll be there. For as long as you want. For as long as you'll let me."

He taps on a pipe to get Natasha's attention, looking the question at her with nothing more than the tilt of his head and a plea in his tired eyes. She nods with a roll of her own tired eyes, punching in the coordinates to head back. They could all use a break.

"We'd just finished making a couple of pirates walk the plank, so we're good to head back now. Should only take a couple of hours."

[notworthallthis]

The emotion in Steve's voice is thick and cloying, and it's everything to Bucky at this moment. He closes his eyes and lets out a slow and deep, silent breath. "I do... I want you here." He needs him, is more like it, but that sounds pathetic and needy and desperate, so he keeps it to himself.

"Okay," a smile touches his lips, and he wonders if Steve can hear it in his voice. "then I'll see you soon."

Bucky is good at waiting, but that doesn't mean he likes to do it. He manages anyway, keeping himself busy with idle distractions, trying his hardest to keep his eyes off the door, like he might will Steve walking through it sooner if he does.

[pointedsouth]

It's enough just to hear Bucky give the word.

He can almost picture Bucky smiling. Almost. Soon he'll be able to see it for himself--his own lips curve at the thought. "See you soon," he intones softly before hanging up.

True to his word, only a couple of hours go by before they're landing near the heart of the city, much to the bemusement of the same guards that had seen them off. Natasha takes point before he can, waving him off and going over to converse with the guards, so he wastes no time setting out for the farmland where Bucky lives.

One of these days he'll stop to appreciate the beauty of this place, but not today.

He's sure Bucky can hear his approach but he still stops to knock on the doorframe of the hut. Even with a written invitation, he wants to respect Bucky's personal space. "Bucky? It's me," he calls out, wondering if maybe Bucky was out in the field this time of the day...

[notworthallthis]

Steve isn't left waiting long before Bucky appears, a small smile on his face. "Hey..." he practically breathes the greeting out. "Come in," he steps aside to allow Steve room to press further inside.

Suddenly, Bucky can't help feeling... a little overwhelmed and awkward in equal measure as he stands here staring at his best friend in the hut he'd been calling home. Had he really just asked for Steve to drop everything to come see him because he was lonely? That was crazy, right?

"Thanks for... for coming," he says with a soft huff of a thing. "Make yourself at home," he offers, gesturing around the room.

@trigeminalheadache

[notworthallthis]

[3.We almost died tonight..we almost die every night. but tonight was the closest by far]

——

Only time will tell.

Statistically speaking, eventually we’re going to be due a break, right?
Just one weekend free of Death’s front porch?

[trigeminalheadache]

Statistically, I think we are.
Practically speaking, that doesn't always work out.
But maybe we'll get a lull. Or the life-threatening danger will bother someone else for a while.

[notworthallthis]

Too bad it doesn't play out with the math. That'd be handy.
Fingers crossed, we could use it.

@enactors

[notworthallthis]

[1. So I shouldn’t spend the therapist's co-pay on Jaeger bombs?]

——

I don’t know her well enough, how do I just work that into the conversation—
Hi, how are you, by the way: do you prefer your wine white or rosé?

[enactors]

How does she like her coffee?
With milk — white; black — red. Too much sugar? Rosé.

[notworthallthis]

Interesting. I'll have to pay closer attention next time.

[enactors]

It's not a hard rule, but it's a start.

And besides, even if you get it wrong, it'll be better than 'here, I bought you the favorite drink of freshman everywhere'.

[notworthallthis]

[3. We almost died tonight..we almost die every night. but tonight was the closest by far]

——

No? That sounds like there’s a story behind it. Or three. Five. Care to share with the class, Wilson?

I bet you wouldn’t.

[imadebreakfast]

Not as much of a story as you think, Barnes.
I was always the troublemaker when we were kids, my sister was the angel, but you wouldn't know that looking at us.
The real truth of it is I was just the one who got CAUGHT.