BUCKY

I stayed gone for a long time. Well after the sun had gone down. I just… walked.

My emotions were all over the place. I went from disproportionately furious, to depressive, to horribly empty in the span of an hour.

I’d ruined everything. I was finally tasting some of those dreams I’d had of Indy — kissing her, touching her, being hers. And I’d gone and blown up on her over next to nothing.

My thoughts kept circling back to the way we’d danced together those weeks ago. How close she’d let me, a man with death staining my soul, hold her. How much she’d trusted me. She hadn’t even hesitated when I’d kissed her. She’d thrown herself into it with more enthusiasm than I’d ever been strong enough to hope for. And here I was, acting like an asshole.

Of course, even once I realized that, I couldn’t make my feet take me back to the cabin. I needed to soak in my own misery for a while. I deserved it. So I found an overhang of rock in a large clearing and sat, holding perfectly still and letting the wretchedness overtake me, watching the moonlight reflect off my hand.

This was what I’d been worried about. Partly. So many things could go wrong with me. I could snap and accidentally hurt her. Physically. I could draw the wrong kind of attention to her (not that she apparently needed any help with that) and get her kidnapped, killed, or worse. Or… I could just break her heart. Apparently I used to do it without trying, back when I was a young man playing the soldier. Now there was just one heart I wanted desperately to keep safe, to leave uncracked and whole. And I was consistently doing damage to it.

And then you go and storm off and leave her completely alone for half a day. Some protector you are.

Once that thought settled in, it was easier to motivate myself to get back home. Home. When had I started thinking of the cabin in those terms? Maybe when Indy and I had become… whatever we were now.

The walk back was long, and I was kicking myself even harder for staying gone for such a long time. I checked my phone as I headed inside the cabin. It was already 10:42. The lights in the kitchen and living room were off, so I assumed she’d already gone to bed. There was a note on the kitchen counter.

Dinner in fridge. -I

I sighed. She’d made me dinner. Of course she had. Guilt tore at me with renewed vigor. I was used to guilt, but this was different. Normally, guilt was blunt. Almost dull from its frequency in my life, but forceful. Now, it burned through my chest like acid. I was a free man now. And these were decision I had made.

My belief that I was nothing but poison for her was only strengthened, but… I found myself standing outside her bedroom door instead of my own, trying to think up the words to say that might fix whatever I’d done. I didn’t deserve her forgiveness. Probably shouldn’t even ask for it. But she’d instilled habits in me that weren’t so easily ignored now.

I tapped my knuckles lightly against the door, cringing at the metallic echo my hand gave before opening the door and stepping quietly inside. She was in bed, facing away from me with the blanket wrapped around her midsection.

I thought she was asleep until she murmured hoarsely, “I was starting to get worried.”

I took a deep breath, then stepped around the bed, coming over to where she was lying on her side so I could lower myself onto my knees in front of her. She opened her eyes, and I saw the sadness in them.

“Indy, I’m sorry,” I whispered, taking her hand in mine on the edge of the mattress. My voice was strained, close to tears. “I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to act like that. Not to you.”

“It’s alrigh-”

“No, it’s not.” I shook my head, sliding my fingers between hers. “I’m no good, Indy. Not for you. Probably not for anyone. I can’t- I shouldn’t-”

She sat up, bringing a hand to my cheek as she leaned in to kiss me. Her lips trembled against mine, her body wound tight with stress beneath her blanket.

“Stop talking,” she breathed. “And get in bed.”

My heart stopped in my chest. She was forgiving me that easily? Like I didn’t already think she was much too good for me. But even with unworthiness sitting on my heart, I slid my shoes off and climbed into the bed with her, pulling her in against my chest.

“You’re allowed to get mad, Buck,” she whispered into the dark. “Even over trivial things. But… don’t run off on me again. Please.”

Her voice, soft and sweet and so damn worried for me, felt like a spear through my chest. Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea of what that actually felt like thanks to that pressure cooker bomb in Romania.

“I’m done running from you.”

I didn’t think about the promise before I made it. But it felt right. Like something I’d always intended to keep, even despite my old plan to keep myself from getting too close. The words were heavy, sinking down into us both. Along with them came, for me, a sense of decisiveness.

I put my knuckle beneath her chin and made her look up at me. I needed her. With everything I had left of myself. I’d said this was it before. But this time, there wouldn’t be any going back. No more back and forth, second guessing, or uncertainty. If she could forgive me… maybe it was time I did the same. I could believe in the me that she believed in.

“I’m done running from you.” My voice rumbled up earnestly from the deepest parts of my being. “Lay on your back.”

INDY

“Lay on your back.”

I stared at him in shock, eyes wide. But my body was already responding, listening to that rugged voice without thought. He sat up on his knees, grabbing the edge of his shirt and ripping it off before I could process what he was doing.

It was dark in the room. Almost too dark to see. But the moonlight made the scars across his left shoulder and upper chest stand in relief. He looked down at me purposefully, blue eyes guarded but hopeful. His jaw was set, but he looked more worried than defiant.

Despite his instructions to lay down, I lifted myself up and dragged my gaze over him. I’d known Bucky would be muscular; he was a super soldier. But the way those muscles moved — uncovered, and rolling like hills down to the waistband of his jeans — made something tighten in my belly.

I reached a hand toward him, but paused an inch or so away, raising my eyebrows questioningly. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he took my hands and pressed them firmly to his chest. His skin was smooth on one side, rough and pocked with scar-tissue on the other. I ran my fingers gently over the scarring, glancing up at him every now and then to make sure everything was okay. He had his eyes closed, breathing in and out through his nose.

“Does it hurt?” I asked quietly, laying my hand over the seam between his shoulder and the vibranium of his arm.

He shook his head, just barely. “Not really. Not anymore. Sometimes it gets achy, but it… That feels good. No one’s touched me like that in… a long time.”

Why, when he said things like that, did it make me want to hug all his problems away? To do something stupid and impractical, like locking him away in a tower where no one else could hurt him again? Why did his pain hurt me, even as faded by time as it was?

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his shoulder, then rested my forehead against his, sliding my arms around his bare waist. I knew how hard this was for him. I hadn’t missed the hesitance bordering on panic when I’d tried to get his shirt off him before. He was in ridiculously good shape; that much was obvious no matter how many layers you put on him. But he was self-conscious about his scars. Weren’t we all?

“You’re beautiful.”

He snorted quietly. “I think you need your eyes checked, Doll. The left side of my body looks like Freddy Krueger.”

I looked back down at his shoulder, tracing one of the longer sections of scarring. “I kinda like ‘em.”

“You like them?” he asked incredulously. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Indy. I’ve already taken the shirt off.”

I rolled my eyes at him, but leaned against his chest, forcing him to grab me by the hips to steady us both. “I’m not kidding. The things that happened to you were horrible. Really, genuinely, some of the worst things I’ve ever heard of. And your scars prove you lived through it. Survived. Long enough to make it here today. To me.”

He was watching my eyes raptly, seemingly hanging on every word I said. His eyes drifted down to my mouth, and he nodded distractedly. “To you.”

I put a hand on the back of his hand, spreading my fingers through his soft hair. Before I could say another word, he had grabbed the backs of my knees and leaned forward, pressing me back into the mattress as he fell on top of me, carefully catching his weight on his hands and knees before attaching his mouth to mine.

He was never very pushy when we’d made out before, usually just going along with whatever I wanted. But now, his presence was commanding, his movements determined and ardent. He ran his hand firmly along the side of my leg, up to my hip, where he gripped me tightly, letting out a throaty groan.

While his tongue delved into my mouth, curling possessively around my own, his hands continued their upward journey, fingers sliding my shirt upward as they pressed into the soft flesh of my stomach, the expanse of my ribs, to the bottom edge of my bra. He broke the kiss to lift my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor before his hands returned to me. He turned his face downward, staring down into the space between my breasts with a hunger in his eyes I wasn’t sure I had ever seen on him before. His lips brushed the top of my left breast and my whole body shuddered.

I was impatient. I reached behind me and unhooked the clasp of my bra, letting it sit loosely on my shoulders for a moment so he could slowly lower it away from me. His eyes stayed on mine, darkened with shadow and desire. His fingertips grazed my shoulders as he slid the straps down my arms, exposing my chest to the open air.

The look on his face was priceless. Torn between powerlessness and knee-weakening appetite. Like I was tempting him and comforting him at the same time. One rough, warm thumb and one hard, cold one rubbed firmly over my nipples, raising them to peaks in one slow, coordinated swipe. I felt my breath stutter and quicken, my chest rising up into his hands. He liked that. His eyes rose back to mine, a dangerous smile on his deceptively delicate lips.

Then he leaned down and put his mouth over my right nipple, teeth teasing and tongue sucking at it until I was writhing beneath him, struggling to keep my pitiful noises in. But then his hand slipped down to my pants, sliding beneath them, beneath the band of my underwear. I whimpered quietly, my fingers tightening into his biceps, one unyielding. That whimper turned into a loud moan as his fingers slid through the wetness at my core.

“Bucky,” I mumbled, my hips moving forward as his fingers focused in on that little knot of pleasure.

He nodded, pulling off my nipple with a pop, grinning up at me salaciously. “You don’t have to be quiet, Babydoll. We’re all alone out here. No one but you. Me. And whatever noises I can get out of you.”

A whine worked its way out of me as I realized how true his words were. There was no one around for literal miles. No one to stop what was happening, or judge us for it. No enemies to worry about or roommates to hide from.

My legs spread wider, my moans deepening and echoing around the room.

“Good girl,” he growled, pulling his hand out of my waistband to start sliding my pants and underwear down my legs. “Now this time. Stay laying back.”

I nodded, letting him kiss me, his bare chest brushing mine before he lowered himself further down the mattress. He positioned himself between my legs and I fought the urge to squirm self-consciously. But the urge was snuffed out quickly by the veneration in his eyes as he stared down at my naked body. He looked ready to drop his head and pray. Instead, he dropped his head and licked a thick, solid line along my folds, wringing another moan from me.

His mismatched hands, one gripping each thigh, were tight but not uncomfortable. His eyes were closed, eagerly invested in his task. I’d never been with someone so ready to please. I gripped his hair between my fingers, my left hand cupping my breast as he worked me over, slipping a metal finger in me and curling it experimentally.

“Bucky,” I groaned as he slid another cool digit inside me, pumping tortuously slowly. His speed picked up a bit, tongue swirling painfully close to that spot. He opened his eyes, giving me a look that was nearly chilling. I was reminded suddenly of how dangerous he was, how strong and capable. His big hands, holding me both tenderly and inflexibly, could so easily snap each bone in my body. Instead, he was devouring me like I was the last thing he’d ever taste, his mouth moving across me like a wave.

I had to abandon toying with my nipple to grab at my own hair, flustered beyond reasoning as I felt my nerves coiling, spine tightening, back arching. I couldn’t believe it was coming on so quickly. But then, it had been a while. “Bucky, I’m gonna-”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Bucky, hearing my words, smirked into me and ran his teeth teasingly over my clit one more time before sucking on it with enough force to send me into orbit, rocking against his face with a broken wail. He licked at my clit with long strokes as I rode it out.

When my head was clear enough to think coherently again, Bucky was next to me, a satisfied grin on his face as he pulled me against him. I sighed deeply, falling against his scarred chest.

“Oh my god,” I chuckled weakly. “The Winter Soldier just went down on me.”

He joined in my chuckling, shaking his head with a playfully pained expression. “Oh, my god.”

I looked up at him and slid my hand down his abs, tracing them as I went, before I got to the button of his jeans. As I’d thought might happen, his hand stopped mine. I could feel the tightness in the denim of his pants, but he shook his head.

“Not yet.”

I couldn’t really be too upset, not with the orgasm he’d just given me. But I was still yearning for it. I smiled softly at him and nodded, though. I could be patient.

“I just… need a little more time,” he said, swallowing nervously. He’d always been so aggressively taciturn in the beginning that I’d never imagined he would look so unsure in front of me. That he would look to me for reassurance. Then again, I’d never imagined he’d bury his face between my legs and tug at my soul with his tongue.

I kissed him at the base of his throat, within the loop of his dog tags, then laid my head on his chest, closing my eyes. “We can take as long as you need.”

BUCKY

She fell asleep next to me, breathing deeply, her naked breasts pressed against me, a slight smile on her face. I couldn’t fall asleep. Not when she was so incredibly nude and I was so painfully hard.

I couldn’t stop staring at specific parts of her, feeling like a slobbering dog. The dip in her side, where my hand fit perfectly. The curve of her neck, where a few love bites from the day before were still healing. The length of bare leg that had kicked out of the blanket, wrapped over the top of mine.

I figured I could get away with running my fingers over the smooth skin of her thigh, trying to calm myself down. But that was the wrong move. It made me want to dig my fingertips in and wake her up to roll on top of me. It made me remember the taste of her. I closed my eyes and sucked in a carefully controlled breath, trying to ignore the uncomfortable strain in my crotch.

Eventually, her soft skin, the sight of her body against me, the memory of my name on her lips, was too much. I slid her gently to the side, kissing her neck softly, but greedily before I slunk out of the bed and headed to the bathroom to… take care of things.

O o 0 o O

Despite the evening I’d had, I woke up early the next morning, Indy’s arms wrapped around my head. Her heart beat steadily beneath my ear, only a sheet between my cheek and those gorgeous, soft breasts. I snuggled into her for a moment, enjoying the warm coconut smell that always clung to her, the way she unconsciously tightened her hold on me.

But I couldn’t sit still for long. I was too… happy? Was that what this odd buzzing feeling in my chest was? Like a lightbulb trying to expand itself and, against the odds, succeeding. I wanted to do something. Last night had taken us a step further in our relationship. I wanted her to know I didn’t only value those parts of her that I’d kneeled and worshipped last night.

By now, with everything we’d been through together, surely it was obvious to her, but… it felt right, giving her some actual gesture to show her. I had a vague plan. It involved breaking one of her rules, but I got the feeling she would let me slide this time.

INDY

I woke up alone with the sheet twisted around me, and yawned, blinking up at the ceiling. It took about thirty seconds for the memory of last night to turn my bleary, half-asleep stare to a semi-mortified one.

Bucky was hard to look directly at sometimes. He always had been.

He’d been bright and inspiring as a young sergeant in a history book, nearly heart-breaking just to look at.

And when we’d first met, I’d had to force myself to make eye contact sometimes. Mostly because I knew for a fact (or thought I did) that he despised me.

Then he started letting me in, showing me the parts of him that hurt, telling me the things he hated saying out loud. And it was hard to see that agony still lingering in the eyes of my friend. I’d looked on anyway, like I was paying respects to his past through witnessing its fallout.

Then I’d started catching feelings for him. And it had been hard to look directly into a face so handsome and watch it turn away from me. If I’d been less absorbed in my own heartache over it, I might have noticed the wistful look in his normally vault-like blue eyes.

And now, suddenly, I was sure I was going to have that old chronic problem again. Because the ways he’d touched me last night, the ways I’d responded to him, moaning his name into the stillness of night — I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about them the second his eyes met mine.

I held my hands to my burning cheeks, trying to work up the motivation to stand up and get dressed, but the door to my room opened before I could make a move.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” Bucky took a step into the room as I sat up on my elbows, a wild tangle of gold-and-brown hair falling around my bare shoulders. He leaned sideways against the door frame, crossing his arms and grinning at me with a warm, suggestive look in his eyes. He was clearly remembering last night. His jeans were slung low on his hips, his T-shirt fit more snugly than usual, and his hair was boyishly disheveled.

He was mouth-watering.

I blushed deeper, pretty sure I was giving him a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me now,” he chuckled, pushing away from the door and sitting on the edge of the bed. He lifted a hand and brushed my hair back behind my ear, his thumb stroking my cheek softly as it went. “After everything we’ve been through.”

“Well,” I said, a defensive edge in my quiet voice. “Last night was… different.”

I’d never had much reason to be shy around him before. But now he knew what I looked like naked. Bathed in moonlight. Knew the sound of my voice in the throes of ecstasy. With sunlight streaming cheerily in through the blinds, that knowledge was more acute.

His face held onto its oddly carefree expression, his smile wavering for only a second. His blue eyes flickered with worry before he covered it. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” I admitted, holding the sheet to my chest as I sat up a little further. “I… It was good. Really good, actually. I just never thought that would happen with you.”

He seemed to really be struggling to hold onto his calm, happy face. Jesus, I was butchering this. I ran a hand over my eyes.

“I’m still kind of surprised that all of this happened. I mean, to begin with, you seemed like you were never going to trust me. Now… here we are.” I reached out for his hand and he gave it willingly — the metal one he used to keep so far from everyone for fear of hurting them or freaking them out.

He nodded, seeming a little more at ease with that answer as his thumb rubbed a circle into the palm of my hand. His eyes locked onto mine intently, his fingers toying idly with mine as he spoke.

“I remember the day I met you, you know.”

“You do?”

He smiled. “It was the first meeting the team had with Fury. The one where everyone was given the option to join or not. I was looking for the boardroom and you were getting stuff out of your office.”

I remembered that day, too, but vaguely. I remembered the fact that there had been a meeting, and I had met the team for the first time that day. But that was about it. No specifics stuck out in my mind. I hadn’t realized how close and important those people would grow to be to me; I’d gone into it thinking of it as a job opportunity. I hadn’t bet on finding a family. Finding Bucky. If I had, I might have hung onto that memory a little tighter.

“You were wearing a green blouse that made your eyes look like gold. You hit your head on the underside of your desk when I knocked on the door,” he laughed, his forefinger circling mine lazily. “The first words I ever heard you say were, ‘Ow, shit’.”

I closed my eyes and bit back a groan. Of course. Tactful Indy and her wonderful first impressions.

His hand sliding onto my cheek made me open my eyes again. He had become serious again, swallowing before he spoke.

“Up until then, I’d been used to lies and evasions. Half-truths and deception. Mistrust was my default with everyone. But you … You were the most honest, genuine thing I’d ever come up against until then. Maybe that’s why I acted the way I did in the beginning. Maybe it was just stubbornness. In my extensive experience, when people are honest about who they are, it’s generally a disappointment. Most people lie about who they are because who they really are isn’t that great to begin with. The best part about you, though, is that… you’re honestly the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

My breath caught in my throat at the vehemence in his voice.

“You’re compassionate, and giving. You’re a hell of a lot smarter than I am and almost unbearably modest about it. You’re funny enough to make a man with a half-frozen heart laugh. Carefree enough to make me forget the things that hang over me. And so strong. Strong enough to survive the childhood you didn’t really get to have. Strong enough to manage a team of reckless idiots with too much power. Strong enough to stick with me through everything. You’ve never pretended to be anything you weren’t. Never lied to me about who you were or what you thought of me. You’re the only person I’ve never had to worry about changing on me.”

I was hypnotized by his words, by the absorbing light in his eyes, by the soft brush of his skin against mine. Apparently, I had leaned in during his speech; we were only a few inches apart now. I’d never had one person say so many nice things about me in a row.

I reached out and grabbed him by the back of the neck, reeling him forward so I could kiss him, forgetting about the sheet and letting it fall so I could hold his face with both hands. He returned the kiss readily, pulling me closer. With his tongue dancing around mine, I barely noticed his hands pulling the sheet further up around my body, wrapping it around me. Which is why it came as somewhat of a surprise when he scooped me up, sheet and all into his arms and lifted me from the bed.

I gave a strangled squeal and clung to his shoulders wildly. “Bucky!”

He rolled his eyes and groaned, carrying me out of the bedroom. “I love it when you say my name like that.”

I felt my blush kick up for a third time this morning, but sat still across his arms, letting him carry me into the kitchen. The table had been set with plates of pancakes, some cut fruit, juice, eggs and bacon. And none of it was burned.

“Did you make all that?”

He grinned ruefully. “I had to use Google. A lot. But, yeah.”

I was about to tell him how much I appreciated his effort, to thank him for the sweet gesture. But then he sat down, settling me covered in my sheet into his lap. I felt distinctly naked beneath the thin fabric, and started to stand up to move to my own chair so Bucky could have elbow room. His hands tightened on me, dragging me back down to his lap before I could even straighten up. His arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind, his mouth finding my ear.

“You stay right here with me,” he said gently, kissing the tip of my bare shoulder. “Okay?”

I turned my head to meet his eye over my shoulder. Something was different about him today. He’d been casting off his old habits to be affectionate with me for the last few weeks. But this was something else. Those clouds in his eyes were mostly gone. I felt no more indecision coming from him. He seemed… ready. Ready for whatever this was between us. Whatever it was growing to be.

So I leaned over, kissed him on the mouth and murmured, “Are those chocolate chip pancakes?”

He smiled, kissing me again quickly. “Only the best for my girl.”

His arms slid down around my waist, holding me firmly but comfortably to him while I worked around the mental turbulence he’d created by calling me his girl.

We sat together, with nearly no space between us, eating and talking and teasing each other. I fed him bites of pancake and he… enjoyed the view, trailing his fingers distractingly beneath the edge of the sheet, along my sides and legs. He planted kisses along the back of my shoulder, the side of my neck. And when I turned to smile at him, he had that look on his face I loved to see. Happiness.

It was, by far, the best morning I’d had in years.