forum Marvel AU OxO?

Started November 29, 2019 by @ElderGod-Icefire

tune

Bucky had fallen asleep after a while, leaning his head on Steve's shoulder, body drooped against the blond man's. His breathing was deep and even, as he was fast asleep. He likely would wake up if Steve moved too much.

After a while, Steve noticed Bucky was still against him. He smiled at the sleeping man tuckered out against his shoulder. His own eyelids were beginning to drop, and he felt a small sense of peace as he nodded off into a quiet sleep with a smile on his face.

Bucky shifted a little bit, still sleeping. He let out a sleepy sound for just a moment, cuddling closer to Steve without meaning to.

Steve shifted into a state of half-sleep, not taking note of where he was and who he was with. All he felt was the softness of Bucky’s sweater and his steady breathing. Steve burrowed himself deeper into what felt like his bed, softly turning and gripping the waist of a very strong pillow.

Bucky kept sleeping, breathing even and steady. He let out a soft hum in his sleep, but continued to sleep.

Sam hesitated at the door of the living room, his hand inches from the doorknob. It had become a shared space for the Avengers, and was usually bustling with life at this hour…but it was silent. The door was open, not locked of closed, and Sam slowly crept in with a cautionary hand behind him, ready to grab a hidden knife if there was an unwelcome guest. As he stalked toward the living room he heard the soft music coming from the TV– someone was definitely here. Sam's face twisted into a bewildered expression of surprise and grinning as he fumbled for his phone, a quiet squeal already escaping as he took a photo. "They won't believe this. Hahaaa!" Sam laughed as he snapped another picture of the two.

Bucky shifted a little bit again in his sleep. At Sam's laughter, his eyes flashed open, pinpricks of blue in the shadows of his face. Before he was even aware of what he was doing, he was lunging off of the couch, left arm outstretched, hand clamping down and lifting Sam into the air, his eyes narrowed with distrust. He dimly recognized Sam as the one that Steve had been with a lot just a week or so ago, but the rest of him was screaming intruder.

Steve leapt up before he was even awake, his tired words barely coherent but frantic. "–Bucky, it's Sam. B- It's Sam; he's cool…" He shook his head, feeling the pricks of adrenaline, "Bucky? It's Sam– I know him. Put him down, wouldja?"

Sam, suspended in the air with a noose of metal around his neck, immediately realized the man in front of him. History books and his own battles with him– Bucky Barne, The Winter Soldier, whoever he was, he was here and choking him in a very tight grip. He thought he was Steves…boyfriend…or something like that. Big mistake.

Bucky glanced over at Steve for a moment, then back at Sam. He hesitated for a long moment, then slowly put Sam down again, stepping back, but not lowering his guard. He swallowed slightly, blue eyes flashing in the light from the TV as he looked from Steve, to Sam again, his eyes staying on Sam in a manner more like a watchdog or a wolf than a man.

Sam tried to stifle his cough as he regained his balance, shaking his head at Steve as he passed him. "You have great taste in men, Rogers." He said, making his way to the kitchen.

"Taste in wh– I don't..have a t– no, no no you've got the wrong idea." Steve stuttered after Sam, glancing back at a very petrified Bucky.

Bucky's eyebrows drew together a little at Sam's comment. He recognized what Sam meant, but…could Steve possibly think about him that way? No. Impossible. Impossible. Steve had loved Peggy, he had seen– wait. Yes, he remembered…watching as Steve led Peggy onto the dance floor and watching her like there wasn't anyone else in the room, while he, Bucky, sat at the sidelines with a drink in his hands and wished he could tell his best friend…tell him what? He couldn't remember, now, what he had wanted to tell Steve.

After a light banter with Sam on their scene on the couch– Steve finally decided that he couldn't talk about this anymore.
"Unbelievable." Sam muttered while putting the orange juice back, "He goes on and brings home an assasin…yeah yeah– not gay. Mmhhhmmm." He shook his head, digging through the fridge.

Stee ran a tired hand through his hair, as he moved back to Bucky. "Yeah…sorry– Sam's just–" He chuckled, earning a sarcastic look from Sam across the room.

(ngl, Sam is cracking me up lmao)

Bucky shrugged slightly, and didn't say anything. He sat down on the couch again, still keeping a wary eye on Sam. He was trying to remember. What had he wanted to tell Steve? What had been hurting him so badly about watching Steve dance with Peggy like that, look at her like that? Had…why couldn't he remember?

(hahhaa good)

Steve flopped tiredly onto the couch, rolling over to face his troubled Bucky. "What's on your mind?" He muttered against the gray couch cushions. Sam was busy now, preparing some type of meal. It's too late for lunch, too early for dinner.
There might be a dinner meeting for the Avenger's tonight– Shit! I forgot that was tonight. Steve internally groaned at the thought.

Bucky shook his head a little bit. "Nothing. I just remembered…whatever happened to Peggy?" he asked slowly. "I remember you danced with her, on the warfront." Looked at her like she was the only person in the world, and I…I was…jealous? But why?

"Peggy?" Steve questioned, his face forming a small smile, "She's still around, believe it or not. Got a family, too." He felt a little bitter at the thought, sometimes wondering if the ending he chose was really the right one. He could have been a grandfather by now– and even though his love for Peggy was there, it was different now: blurred by images of nostalgia and something that was once there; gone now. But with Bucky— his heart still fluttered.

Bucky nodded a little bit. "Ah. She'd be pretty old now, wouldn't she?" You told me "I'll see if she has a friend for you", but god…all I wanted was…all I wanted was to be her, because then maybe you would look at me that way, instead of at her. He frowned a little. Where had that come from??

"Yeah." Steve nodded, thinking back to his visits with her, Peggy remembering a little less every time. "Her memory is…" He shrugged, feeling a little pained, crossing his arms, "Not the best. –But I met her kids, they look like her." The memory was happy but undertoned with…what felt like remorse, loss, for the life Steve lost and the hidden desire that died with it.

Bucky nodded slowly. "I see." And god, when you held her and you kissed her and spoke so soft that I couldn't hear…I wanted to be her so badly because I wanted you to look at me that way, I wanted you to kiss me that way, I wanted…and I knew I couldn't have it and you never even knew– He cut himself off. He didn't know where this remembered emotion was coming from, and he wasn't sure he wanted it.

"Yeah." Steve sighed, glancing at the credits rolling by on the TV like it might hypnotize him into forgetting his repressed feelings for…Bucky? No– what his mind told him he loved about Bucky.
"Nostalgia is a dangerous thing." Steve said out of nowhere, voicing his thoughts as they came, "It tricks you into thinking things were…better when some things were left…unsaid." He cleared his throat.

Bucky glanced over at Steve. "There isn't much for me to be nostalgic about yet, but…alright." he replied slowly, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair. He didn't know what to say.

"Hey Steve?" Sam called from the kitchen, kneading a ball of dough on the counter, "Your friend gonna join us tonight?"
"Uh– yeah." Steve nodded, turning to Bucky, "I mean– if you want? It's just some of us, it's a small dinner–"
"It's a big ass dinner." Sam interrupted, gesturing broadly to the counter covered in ingredients.

Bucky's eyes flicked between the two. "I'm…not sure that would be a good idea." He replied slowly. "I am not…" Normal. Hell, he had attacked Sam. He shook his head a little bit.

"Nah, come on." Sam called and nodded to himself, "We've all tried to kill each other somehow, I think. Don't worry about it." He nodded to Bucky, giving him a silent 'It's alright,' in his look.
"Yeah, Bucky. Sam's making–" Steve looked at the various ingredients and the dough sam was preparing, clueless, "Some…type of– uh…dish…?" He shrugged.

Bucky frowned a little, shaking his head again. At Steve's words, he snorted softly, a quiet laugh leaving his mouth. "Sounds appetizing." He said wryly, running a hand through his hair.

"It is." Sam said from the kitchen, "You ain't had nothing like it, I'll tell ya."
Steve nodded, agreeing with Sam even though he had no ideas of what he was making, "-Yeah, It'll be real nice, all of us at the table with a homecooked meal."

Bucky bit his lip again. "Steve, I just…I don't know." He replied slowly. "It's not…I'm an assassin. I'm not like the Black Widow; she's…making up for it. I can't even remember what the hell I did."

"You're Bucky." He said simply, "I'm inviting you, Bucky Barnes, to have a meal in the company of the Avengers. The question isn't if you should, it's if you want to. I could care less if it's ethical." Steve sighed, shaking his head.
"Word." Sam said from the kitchen, sprinkling a bit of flour on the dough.