the road goes through dallas
I'm making the honey rolls for my work holiday potluck tomorrow, and it must be really humid today or something because the dough was just super-sticky even after I added more flour. Hopefully they turn out well.
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This afternoon, fleurdeleo and I went to see The Muppets. ♥♥♥♥ My face aches from smiling so hard. I'm not sure how it worked for the ( Read more... )
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This afternoon, fleurdeleo and I went to see The Muppets. ♥♥♥♥ My face aches from smiling so hard. I'm not sure how it worked for the ( Read more... )
There is a huge amount of eyefucking in that bit.
♥ Yes, yes there is <3
It makes me all heart-clenchy. I ship it so hard, you guys, and there is so little fic. It makes me a sad panda.
I am so with you there. When they announced the movie and then the casting, the first thing that came to mind was HOMGYAY! There will *have* to be Steve/Bucky fic. Have to be. And then there has been a sad lack.
All I want are Steve/Bucky cuddles and makeouts. Is that too much to ask?
No. No it isn’t.
I mean how can someone look at the cap (and your icon) and not see what’s going on. Not know that maybe after that scene, after Steve talks to Phillips and Bucky’s been checked out by the medic, that someone set them up in tents, and Bucky wants to just, Christ, take a hot shower and wash every memory of that damn facility off of his skin. But he settles for heating water. He's staring at the sterno and waiting for the first hints of steam when he hears the fabric of the tent shift and the sound of someone stepping inside.
"You might look like you ate that skinny kid from Brooklyn, but I'd know your footsteps anywhere." Bucky says, lifting one corner of his shirt. He gets just to his ribs when the pain makes him stop.
He hears Steve's exhaled laugh, and when he turns around-- the hem of his shirt lowered back to his waist--Steve's got his helmet in his hand and looks every bit that scrawny kid.
"Do you-- Would you like some help?"
Steve's walking toward him already and Bucky has a half-thought to say no, to tell Steve he's fine and doesn't need help. (It's instinct. He's spent most of his life protecting the guy, it's going to take some getting used to.) But then one of Steve's hands is on the hem of his shirt, and the other is holding onto Bucky’s bicep.
“Let me know when it hurts,” Steve says, lifting the fabric.
It does, but Bucky doesn’t say a word. He watches Steve’s face, watches Steve look at him until the fabric of his shirt breaks their eye connection. When he can see Steve again something’s changed, he can see it in Steve’s eyes, on his face. It’s an emotion he knows in every cell of his body.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Bucky says, taking the shirt from Steve’s balled up fist. “Only half is bruises.”
“Bucky.” Steve’s voice is barely suppressed emotion.
“I know. Every time you wouldn’t back down, every time put your stupid damn big heart out on the line.... I know.”
Bucky cups Steve’s face.
This might possibly the god damn stupidest thing he could do, but James Buchanan Barnes was never the best student in school.
When Steve leans down--leans down, Bucky is still wrapping his mind around that one--when he kisses Bucky, tender and earnest and like maybe this is something that he’s wanted to do as long as Bucky has... That’s when Bucky realizes that this was the best idea ever, because they were meant to do this. They were made to do this. This kissing, and Steve’s arms around Bucky’s waist and Bucky’s arm wrapped around Steve’s shoulders and neck, is as natural as breathing and right as rain, and something they should have done so long ago and as much as possible.
“Jeez, Bucky,” Steve gasps, his lips sliding from Bucky’s mouth across his scruffy cheek.
“Damn, Steve.” Bucky echoes, turning his face and brushing a kiss along Steve’s smooth jaw. He closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of leather and soap at the crook of Steve’s neck.
“Your water’s ready.”
It takes Bucky a full minute to realize what Steve’s saying. And after that, he might very well sigh as he loosens his hold on Steve.
“I don’t suppose you’d want to help with that, too?”
Steve’s smile does something stupid to Bucky’s chest. “If you’d like me too.”
“Yeah, Steve. I’d like.”
Steve picks up the clean rag from next to the sterno and dips it into the water. He squeezes out the excess water and starts to run the cloth over Bucky’s face, his jaw, over his ear. When he rinses the rag and turns back to Bucky for a second time, he stops under the weight of Bucky’s gaze.
“Hi Bucky,” Steve says and blushes.
“Hi Steve.” Bucky smiles.
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THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED!
ETA: Also, let me know if you post this somewhere else so I can link to it in my recs!
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I have been WANTING to write some Steve/Bucky (and, well, any fic more than a hundred words here or there) lately and thank you for your post, which apparently kicked my muses into gear :D
I'll repost it to AO3 and my journal probably in the a.m. and will certainly let you know! Thanks!
(also, man, I need a Steve and Bucky icon.)
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I wrangled a bit of an opening for the ficlet and posted it at my LJ and at AO3
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