forum Marvel AU OxO?

Started November 29, 2019 by @ElderGod-Icefire

tune

Bucky nodded a little bit. "Oh. Right." He replied, wonderihow the world would react. How people would think of them when they found out.

"What about you?" Steve asked, running a finger along the edge of the table as he thought of the whimsical plans of living together in a castle when they were kids, "You thinkin' 'bout staying at the tower?"

Bucky shrugged. "I guess I figured I'd go with you, but I don't have to." he replied softly, glancing over at Steve for a moment.

Steve tried not to smile at that, but he couldn't help it. "No– yeah. Yeah, of course, you could totally come with me– or, live with me, yeah." Steve said a little shyly, trying not to blush at the idea of them living together in a place of their own.

Bucky smiled happily at that. "Alright. I just…I don't want to stay in the tower alone, I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hm. You wouldn't be alone though; you'd have all those framed pictures to keep you company," Steve said with a faint laugh, "But seriously, I'm kind of excited about looking at a bunch of real estate in the future. And decorating too, wildly enough. I never thought I'd say that."

Bucky laughed faintly. "Well, you'll have a whole house to paint and decorate and furnish." he replied with a shrug, looking over at Steve.

Steve smiled as he let out a happy sigh, thinking about those furniture catalogues the future him would thoughtfully consider as he planned for his home. "Well…if we're gonna live together in that house, I think you should get a say– in what colour to paint the walls and whatnot."

Bucky blinked. "But it won't be my house, it's yours. I don't…" he trailed off, looking away for a moment and unsure if Steve really meant that.

Steve shook his head, wearing a faint smile, "No…it would be our house, kind of. You'd live there, and I'd live there, so…" He mistook Bucky's shifting glance as his opposition to the idea, "Oh– unless that's too much, or…too fast for us?"

"No, I just…I thought it would be your place, just until I'm…a functioning person again. Not…" Bucky trailed off. "I…I don't know."

"Oh." Steve quietly remarked, raising his eyebrows a bit. "But…you are a functioning person. I mean, you're still processing some stuff, but what makes you think you aren't good enough to share a home?"

"I'm not a functioning person, though. I've still got all this…HYDRA shit in my brain. I don't know." he replied.

"Hey, Bucky," Steve softly tried, instinctively reaching out to touch his hand, though remembered how hard he flinched when he didn't want to be touched and let it linger on the table instead, "I told you, you're still healing from all that. And there are ways to make it more manageable, right?"

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know." he replied, looking down at his metal hand where it rested on the table. The hand that was so much stronger than he had ever wanted to be, that had torn the lives from so many.

"Well…even if you don't know now–" Steve said, slowly moving his hand to rest on top of Bucky's, feeling the cool metal beneath his palm, "We'll figure it out together as we go." He smiled faintly, "The important thing is that you're safe and trying to get better, right? Even if you're not ready for therapy or anything like that, you're still a functioning person, I think."

Bucky looked at him, biting his lower lip a little bit. "Steve, I…I'm not sure about that." He said slowly, running a hand through his hair.

"Why not?" Steve prompted, speaking softly as he studied his expression, "You're a person. You've gone through some stuff, but you still deserve a place to call home."

Bucky shrugged. "I meant I'm not sure I qualify as a…fully functioning individual." He replied, letting out a faint breath.

"Bucky, of course you qualify," Steve said, his eyebrows faintly drawing together. "It's not about your arm, is it?" He asked, running a gentle touch over his cool metal hand.

Bucky blinked. "No, I meant my head. The uhm…the arm has nothing to do with it." He looked down at where Steve's hand lay over his metal one.

"Hm," Steve sounded, biting his lip for a moment, "Well…with that, you're still making progress, right? You're remembering more stuff. And maybe you're warming up to the idea of therapy– which is just an option."

Bucky shrugged. "Yeah, maybe so. I just…I don't know." he replied, running a hand through his hair.

"Well…I'm sorry you that you feel…unworthy or something," Steve said, shaking his head softly, "I don't feel like I'm doing enough, cause I wanna do more– but other than talking about it with you, I don't really know how."

Bucky nodded a little bit. "It's just…I don't know. I don't…remember enough, and what I do remember…isn't good." His eyes flickered for a moment.

Steve chewed his lip as he took in what he said, looking down at his hand over Bucky's. He couldn't possibly imagine what it'd be like to carry that many painful memories and have so little other ones. "I wish I could take that away from you, I do. Is there anything I can do?"

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, shrugging his shoulders. "I uhm…I don't know." he replied, letting out a breath. "I'm sorry."

"No– don't be sorry," Steve said, giving his metal hand a gentle squeeze and looking up at him, "We're gonna figure it out, and it's all gonna be okay. The happy memories will outweigh the bad ones."

Bucky looked at him. "Maybe eventually, but I just…I…I'm sorry." he said, taking a deep breath.

"Bucky," Steve said with tenderness in his voice, looking at him with a softened expression, "You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all. Things will get better, I can promise you that."