Same As It Ever Was
Title: Same As It Ever Was
Author:
somehowunbroken
Beta:
shinysylver
Fandom: Avengers (Earth-1999999/movieverse)
Characters: Steve/Bucky
Word Count: 760
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for hc_bingo 2011: body image issues.
Summary: Steve's the same, for all that he's different.
Steve hovers.
It’s something that he’s always done; it’s one of the few things that Bucky can place as Steve without even trying. His eyes are the same, too, even if they’re coming out of a face that’s not as thin as Bucky is still expecting.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Steve asks anxiously. His voice is the same too, and it fits this new body like it never had his old one, booming from his chest and rattling around in the tent. Bucky sits down on his cot and rolls his eyes.
“I’m fine,” he informs Steve, leaning back. “I’ve been checked over and over and over, and the doctors say that I get a week on light duty, but that’s no more than anyone else you rescued got.” He leers at Steve. “Want to check me out for yourself?”
Steve blushes from the tips of his ears right down into the collar of that ridiculous costume he’s wearing, and yeah, that’s entirely the Steve that Bucky remembers. “Bucky,” he says uncertainly. “I’m not…”
Bucky tilts his head back when it becomes clear that Steve isn’t going to finish that thought on his own. “Not what?”
“Me,” Steve says, looking steadily down at the floor.
“What?” Bucky sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the cot and leaning so he can grab Steve’s hand. “Of course you’re you. Who else would you be?”
Steve cracks a smile and shakes his head. “Look at me, Bucky. This isn’t…” He trails off again, twisting their hands until their palms are flat against each other. Steve’s fingers are long and sturdy, and with their palms touching at the base, they’re almost an entire knuckle longer than Bucky’s. “It’s all backwards,” Steve says quietly. “Your fingers are bigger than mine, not the other way around.”
“Steve,” Bucky says, linking their fingers together. “You look a little different, yeah, but you’re still you.”
Steve looks down at him - and that’s new too, Bucky realizes, and it’s probably just another part of the whole problem - and shakes his head the tiniest bit. “I don’t know, Bucky.”
“Here,” Bucky says, tugging until Steve sits on the cot beside him. “Look,” he says, rubbing his thumb over Steve’s knuckle. “You’ve still got the scar here from when you punched the wall aiming for that lughead in the alley in ’39.”
Steve looks at his hand like he’s never seen it before. “I do,” he says, sounding a little surprised, as if he hadn’t noticed before. “I thought the serum would have taken all of that away.”
“Nope,” Bucky confirms, smiling up at Steve. “Your nose is still crooked, too.” He laughs when Steve nudges him.
“What about,” Steve says suddenly, dropping Bucky’s hand and working to pull the leather of his costume up over his head. He turns away from Bucky when he manages to get the thing off. “What about that?”
Bucky traces the pencil-thin line from just below Steve’s right shoulderblade to where it disappears above his left hip, faded to little more than a faint discoloration. “Still there.”
Steve shudders. “I thought it would all be gone.” He sounds oddly glad to discover that the marks he had always hated are still present and accounted for. Bucky figures that if he woke up one day looking as different as this new Steve does from the old Steve, he’d want a few reminders, too.
“Even if they were gone, you’re still you,” Bucky says, pushing on Steve’s shoulder until Steve turns back around to face him. “Look, Steve, nobody’s gonna tell you that you don’t look different, right? But you gotta start thinking of it the other way around, man, like that old you wasn’t the right one, and this is how things were meant to be.”
Steve’s face falls a little. “You think I look better like this.”
“Yeah,” Bucky says honestly, dropping his voice, “but we were going together before, and you used to know that wasn’t pity or nothing. You still know that?”
Steve nods and laughs, a shaky little sound that doesn’t sound very funny. “Sorry.”
“No,” Bucky says, looking Steve straight in the eye. “You used to know that shit don’t fly with me, too. I thought you said that stuff didn’t mess with your brain?”
This time, Steve’s laugh sounds genuine. “You’re such a creep sometimes, Barnes.”
“You love me anyway, Rogers,” Bucky shoots back.
The way Steve’s eyes soften, how the skin at the corners crinkles a little when he looks at Bucky, that’s the same, too.
Author:
somehowunbroken
Beta:
shinysylver
Fandom: Avengers (Earth-1999999/movieverse)
Characters: Steve/Bucky
Word Count: 760
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for hc_bingo 2011: body image issues.
Summary: Steve's the same, for all that he's different.
Steve hovers.
It’s something that he’s always done; it’s one of the few things that Bucky can place as Steve without even trying. His eyes are the same, too, even if they’re coming out of a face that’s not as thin as Bucky is still expecting.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Steve asks anxiously. His voice is the same too, and it fits this new body like it never had his old one, booming from his chest and rattling around in the tent. Bucky sits down on his cot and rolls his eyes.
“I’m fine,” he informs Steve, leaning back. “I’ve been checked over and over and over, and the doctors say that I get a week on light duty, but that’s no more than anyone else you rescued got.” He leers at Steve. “Want to check me out for yourself?”
Steve blushes from the tips of his ears right down into the collar of that ridiculous costume he’s wearing, and yeah, that’s entirely the Steve that Bucky remembers. “Bucky,” he says uncertainly. “I’m not…”
Bucky tilts his head back when it becomes clear that Steve isn’t going to finish that thought on his own. “Not what?”
“Me,” Steve says, looking steadily down at the floor.
“What?” Bucky sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the cot and leaning so he can grab Steve’s hand. “Of course you’re you. Who else would you be?”
Steve cracks a smile and shakes his head. “Look at me, Bucky. This isn’t…” He trails off again, twisting their hands until their palms are flat against each other. Steve’s fingers are long and sturdy, and with their palms touching at the base, they’re almost an entire knuckle longer than Bucky’s. “It’s all backwards,” Steve says quietly. “Your fingers are bigger than mine, not the other way around.”
“Steve,” Bucky says, linking their fingers together. “You look a little different, yeah, but you’re still you.”
Steve looks down at him - and that’s new too, Bucky realizes, and it’s probably just another part of the whole problem - and shakes his head the tiniest bit. “I don’t know, Bucky.”
“Here,” Bucky says, tugging until Steve sits on the cot beside him. “Look,” he says, rubbing his thumb over Steve’s knuckle. “You’ve still got the scar here from when you punched the wall aiming for that lughead in the alley in ’39.”
Steve looks at his hand like he’s never seen it before. “I do,” he says, sounding a little surprised, as if he hadn’t noticed before. “I thought the serum would have taken all of that away.”
“Nope,” Bucky confirms, smiling up at Steve. “Your nose is still crooked, too.” He laughs when Steve nudges him.
“What about,” Steve says suddenly, dropping Bucky’s hand and working to pull the leather of his costume up over his head. He turns away from Bucky when he manages to get the thing off. “What about that?”
Bucky traces the pencil-thin line from just below Steve’s right shoulderblade to where it disappears above his left hip, faded to little more than a faint discoloration. “Still there.”
Steve shudders. “I thought it would all be gone.” He sounds oddly glad to discover that the marks he had always hated are still present and accounted for. Bucky figures that if he woke up one day looking as different as this new Steve does from the old Steve, he’d want a few reminders, too.
“Even if they were gone, you’re still you,” Bucky says, pushing on Steve’s shoulder until Steve turns back around to face him. “Look, Steve, nobody’s gonna tell you that you don’t look different, right? But you gotta start thinking of it the other way around, man, like that old you wasn’t the right one, and this is how things were meant to be.”
Steve’s face falls a little. “You think I look better like this.”
“Yeah,” Bucky says honestly, dropping his voice, “but we were going together before, and you used to know that wasn’t pity or nothing. You still know that?”
Steve nods and laughs, a shaky little sound that doesn’t sound very funny. “Sorry.”
“No,” Bucky says, looking Steve straight in the eye. “You used to know that shit don’t fly with me, too. I thought you said that stuff didn’t mess with your brain?”
This time, Steve’s laugh sounds genuine. “You’re such a creep sometimes, Barnes.”
“You love me anyway, Rogers,” Bucky shoots back.
The way Steve’s eyes soften, how the skin at the corners crinkles a little when he looks at Bucky, that’s the same, too.