Work Text:
@jbb ✅ B4RN3S
Fantastic weekend at home in New York, but now back to Californ-I-A to get back to work. Got inspired, so maybe some tunes? Or maybe a new piece? Who knows. But you know I hate to leave you, Brooklyn.....
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8 September 2019 - 10:13am
"Is that my nickname now? 'Brooklyn'?"
Bucky rolls his eyes, but he pats the space in bed next to him. "Bit on the nose, sure, but it's also accurate." He can't help but grin as his weekend meal of corn-fed beef slides back under the blankets with him.
"It's not like Steve is an uncommon name. You could just call me that." Steve rolls to his side and reaches over to drag his fingers down Bucky's chest, pausing the response trying to make its way out of Bucky's mouth. Instead Bucky sighs and scoots closer, appreciating the touch, knowing that this is his last chance for it.
Thankfully, Steve is also still naked, and sliding their bodies together means immediate skin contact the whole length of his body. Bucky, who's had some ideas ever since round one earlier this morning, drops bites and kisses along Steve's broad shoulder.
"If I called you Steve," he murmurs as he goes, "then they'd know there was someone named Steve. They'd know there was someone." He props his chin on Steve's shoulder. "And then they'd all start looking for clues or trying to get me to confirm or deny rumors." He shakes his head, just slightly, then goes back to dragging his lips over Steve's skin. "I don't want that. For me, for you, or for us."
Steve's quiet as he takes that in, and Bucky takes the opportunity to kiss him more.
It's never been easy, the two of them. It seemed like it might have been, for a moment—when they met, neither was particularly well-known; Steve just out of the ice, Bucky not yet releasing his breakout album with his cyberpunk band, Winter Soldiers. They were strangers to each other, entirely, when they met at a small art gallery in Brooklyn. Sure, Bucky had learned about Captain America back in high school, but he wasn't much for history, and at that time no one knew that he hadn't died in that plane crash.
They didn't date right away. Steve wasn't in a place for romantic entanglements, and Bucky wasn't yet a year out from his last relationship of four years, so they exchanged numbers and tried building a friendship. After the aliens attacked the city, though, Steve came to Bucky almost as soon as he was debriefed and released.
"I don't understand this time at all," Steve had murmured, cupping Bucky's cheeks in his large hands. "But you... I understand how I feel about you." And they'd kissed, made love, ordered pizza in, then did it all over again.
Four years on, and they both have public careers, and neither is quite ready to put a spotlight on their relationship, their one sanctuary away from the noise and clambor of their fans and critics. So Steve brushes off Natasha when she tries to set him up on dates, and Bucky maintains an almost asexual characterization in public, and they try not to worry too much about how much of the year Bucky spends in LA while Steve remains based out of New York when he isn't off around the world fighting bad guys.
"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad," Steve says at last, and he reaches across to stroke the back of his fingers across Bucky's stubbled cheek. "Maybe we could have more, if we let people see a little bit."
Bucky shivers, from the touch or the words, he's not certain, but either way, he's off-guard now. "W-what more would there be to have, Steve?" He pulls away, arms around his knees, his metal arm warm from being tucked between them. "I don't think you're gonna stop saving the world."
Steve rolls up on his side, the sheet draping over his hip artfully. Bucky's never been one for drawing—he's better with metal to solder and mold for his sculptures—but he's seen Steve's sketches and thinks he might ask for this next time Steve wants a prompt. It's a good image to have handy.
"I probably won't stop for a while yet, no. And I don't want you to stop with the band or your art." Steve puts a hand between them, palm flat to the mattress. "But then maybe your tweets could say that you'll miss me. And I could tell my friends that you're in town for a weekend so, y'know, try to handle any alien invasions without me if they can."
There haven't been many emergencies interrupting their time together, but it has happened. Bucky has always hated the idea of Steve having to walk away from him to go into danger, and, well, perhaps that's what's at the core of why he's been happy with this arrangement.
Bucky licks his lips, looks at the clock behind Steve, and sighs. "I'm still leaving soon, baby." The look on Steve's face is solemn, knowing and resigned, and it breaks Bucky's heart. "We can talk about it, but I don't think we'll get it figured out before I have to go." He lifts an eyebrow. "But we can get something else done...." He leans over, takes Steve's stubborn chin in his fingers, and kisses him softly, then more deeply, pushing the kiss eagerly in the hopes that Steve will join him in the conclusion.
And for a moment, it works. He can feel Steve fall into the kiss, feel the bigger man relax into him. But then Steve pulls back. "Buck. Sweetheart." Bucky closes his eyes and drops his head. There's something in this conversation that he doesn't want to meet head on, a sense of a lot of loose ends to be tied up at last.
"Buck," Steve whispers again, his lips fluttering along Bucky's cheek. "I love you. I'm not going anywhere." He sighs. "I just want to be with you."
Bucky feels his breath hitch, and his arms fling around Steve. He doesn't have to be careful with his metal arm, and that's such a minor part of why Steve means so much to him. "So do I, Stevie. So do I."
Steve's mouth is against his temple, a hot kiss pressed tightly. "You don't have to decide now. But think about it, okay? Think about where you might want to go with this, because I think we should start looking at what's next for us."
There's a stinging in Bucky's eyes, and he doesn't know why, doesn't understand because this isn't a break-up, not at all, but he feels like his whole world is falling apart. "I—but what if—"
"There's some plans for San Francisco," Steve whispers, and now they spring apart, staring at each other. Bucky has the sense that Steve didn't mean to bring it up yet. "I mean. There's a plan to, uh, consider plans. Stark has some ideas, and I... I like where those can send me."
Bucky shakes his head. "They'd never move HQ from New York."
"No," Steve agrees. "But this isn't about HQ. There's plenty of people at HQ. But we're all starting to think, well. Shouldn't put all the eggs in a single compound along the Hudson."
Bucky's thought that for years, and isn't that why Stark moved them out of the giant "aim here" tower in the city in the first place? Steve's right; the compound isn't much better. "And all this time I thought you were only keeping a place here in Brooklyn to keep me a secret, but instead it's all just strategy," he jokes, but clears his throat at the look Steve gives him. It's been Bucky's call all along, their secrecy. He knows that, even if he never admitted it before.
"Lang doesn't want to leave his kid behind, so we've been talking about setting up a base in San Francisco. Maybe other places, too, but..."
"You'd be on the same coast as me all the time."
"I know it's not LA, but I figure that's easier to make work more often, anyway." Steve sighs, runs a hand through his hair. "There's no hard plan yet, though. But just. It'd be easier to put in to transfer if they could understand why."
Bucky takes a deep breath, thinking carefully before he blurts out something he'll have to walk back later. He remembers what he realized before, the fear of saying goodbye, the fear of it being a final goodbye. He takes another deep breath, sucking up some courage.
"I love you, Steve, and I'm so afraid of saying goodbye for the last time, when I don't know that it's the last time."
Steve looks at him, taking in Bucky's face, chest, arms, body. When he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse, filled with emotion. "And I'm so afraid of not getting to say goodbye at all."
And that... that is beyond fair. Bucky takes Steve's hand in his metal one. "You're right. I... I didn't think about that. We'd both suffer in that."
"I'm not asking you to marry me, you know. Or even move in with me permanently—"
"I know, but—"
"Not yet anyway," Steve adds softly with a smirk, catching Bucky off-guard for a moment.
When he recovers, he just rolls his eyes and crawls into Steve's arms, which circle him warmly. He breathes, counting their heartbeats, thrilling when they sync for a beat or two before slipping back to their own rhythms, like a blinker on the car in front of him in traffic. He counts some more until his pulse has calmed a bit.
"Tell your friends about me," Bucky says softly, but with conviction. "I'll tell the band. I'm not quite ready to be public, but let's tell our people."
Steve smiles and nods. "We'll tell our people. I like that."
"The band's gonna wanna meet you," he warns.
"So is the team. You'll probably be invited to a party. Don't try and be a hero and drink Thor's booze."
"Yeah, well you should probably avoid Zemo's toilet hooch, too."
They laugh softly, Steve kisses Bucky again, and finally, he also gropes his pec—a sure sign that they'll get to end this stay together on the horny note Bucky hoped for.
*
@jbb ✅ B4RN3S
On my own today with Steve off to some peace conference thingy somewhere. Miss that goofball, but maybe I can get some actual WORK done without him hovering and kissing me and stuff. #caphasaboyfriend ❤️🤍💙
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3 May 2021 - 3:21pm