faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post 2

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From:

stillcantdance

[Steve has lived in a variety of places ranging from the barren to the opulent; Tony hadn't skimped on the Avengers headquarters, to say the least. But these days he doesn't stay in one place for long, and the places he does stay don't have much. Steve Rogers has as much money as he needs and then some, though old childhood and wartime habits of making a little go a long way die hard. He still keeps it simple, getting by with a minimum. It's a protective camoflauge that Bucky will understand all too well.

It's also probably unnecessary. Numerous governments are after him, sure, not least his own. But without help--very specific help--they probably can't find him. And while Steve does live somewhat on the run, he knows very well that if Tony really wanted to find him, he'd already be found. Which is...a whole 'nother mare's nest of its own, really. That Steve lies low is more a matter of courtesy than paranoia, frankly. They've hurt each other enough.

So while he has bolt holes and safe houses all over, for himself and Sam and Wanda, he's never as comfortable in any of them as he is here. Not because Wakanda is probably the one place on Earth where Tony Stark can't trace him, but because of the company.

No surprises there. He's always been happiest when Bucky is nearby.

Before he comes properly in, Steve picks up a medium-ish box he'd left by the door before that hug. It gets placed on the table next to Bucky's coffee as Steve takes a seat and makes a show out of leaning back and crossing his legs. The smile he gives Bucky when he's handed coffee of his own could power a hundred light bulbs.]

You're a lifesaver.

From:

endsinafight

[Bucky has lived in a lot of places, too, some of which are a complete blur, which in reality is probably for the best, considering. Brooklyn will always be his favorite, but his odds of ever getting to return there are slim to none. It's another thing he tries not to think about. Wakanda is his home now, the place where he'll probably remain until they either kick him out or he dies. He hopes to endear himself enough, to make himself useful enough, to people there that the former won't happen. The latter is inevitable and not something he worries about.

He hates thinking about Steve being unable to return to his home, to his life, hell to his own country because he'd chosen to help Bucky. He knows he isn't worth that, that the price had been far too high but he also knows Steve had gladly paid it. He also knows if their situations were reversed, he'd have made the same choices. It doesn't mean it's a weightless guilt. It's certainly not. It never will be.

Of all the people in the world who deserve nothing but good things, Steve makes the top of his list. He might be biased, but he also firmly believes he's right. He eyes the box curiously as he hands Steve the coffee, unable not to beam back at him when he's faced with the wattage of that smile.]

It's just coffee. [There's humor in his voice as he drops down in the chair across from him.]

Strange looking luggage.

From:

stillcantdance

[Steve hasn't given up hope that he and Bucky will go back to Brooklyn someday. Maybe not to stay, and he knows it's not the place either of them remembers, but he'd still like to go. Someday. Wakanda's not the end, not for either of them.

In the meantime Steve's not uncontent. All the choices he's made are the only ones he could have made, given the circumstances at the time. He has regrets, scores of them. But he couldn't have done other than he did, and that gives him a measure of peace.

Besides, he has Bucky back. And frankly, that's worth anything. Everything. Which is part of why he grins the way he does.]

Maybe to you it's just coffee. To me it's choirs of angels singing in cup form.

[All right, so he doesn't get the caffiene buzz he used to. The nostalgia is still there. He takes a long drink.]

And it's not luggage. It's a present.

From:

endsinafight

[He loves Steve for so many reasons, not the least of which is his optimism. He used to be optimistic, too, but the war and HYDRA had ground it out of him almost entirely. He's so far away from being that guy from Brooklyn that sometimes he doesn't even recognize his reflection in the mirror. He's not sure how Steve does, either, but he does. Somehow.

He finds himself studying Steve intently, gaze scanning him for signs of injuries or even stress, but the bright smile that's directed at him sums up that for now, at least, he's okay.

Bucky huffs out a laugh and takes a drink of his own coffee. The coffee in Wakanda is homegrown, and it's richer than any other kind he's ever had before. He actually likes it more than he used to, and he'd been addicted to the stuff back in the war.

Steve's words give him pause, though and he cocks his head to the side.]

It's not wrapped, though. [He smirks at Steve, raising his eyebrows.]

From:

stillcantdance

[Wakanda has the best coffee. There's no question about it. Which is part of Steve's enthusiasm. It's been a week or two since he had time for coffee that didn't taste like caffeinated dirt.

And drinking it with a friend, particularly this one? That definitely elevates it to something special.]

Sure it is. It's wrapped in cardboard.

From:

endsinafight

[He eyes the package with unbridled curiosity and then reaches out to pick it up, tempted to shake it like he's a kid at Christmas, but he manages to restrain himself. It feels light, which only serves to make him more curious. He flicks a glance at Steve, watches him take another drink of the coffee and then carefully tucks his thumb underneath the folds, pulling it open.

Pressing the box between his torso and the table so he can hold onto it and still reach inside, Bucky pauses when he realizes there's an iPod inside. He tilts his head, small smile on his lips. He's always loved music, since their childhood days. He studies the device in his hand, turning it over and recognizing the stamp on the back. It's an iPod, but it's been modified by Wakanda's very own genius herself, and that makes his face break out into a full grin.]

Thank you. Been thinking about getting one of these. [Sometimes it's too quiet here and he misses listening to music. He also hadn't been able to convince himself to ask about borrowing a radio from anyone. He still has some amount of pride, however small it might be.]

This is great, Steve.

From:

stillcantdance

[Whatever trouble Steve took for this was more than worth it just for the pleasure of watching Bucky opening his gift. The bemused curiosity turning into dawning excitement, and then that grin, that one...

Steve has some regrets about his past few years, but at this moment? All of them were worth it. Every one.]

This one's better than the usual types, of course. It's got built-in speakers--tiny, but powerful--though there should be some of those fiddly little headphones somewhere in that box if you really want them. And I'm sure Shuri has a whole basket of accessories to go with it just waiting for you to pick up...

[He laughs and shakes his head, leaning back in his chair.]

Actually, when you write me a thank you card for this, just address it to her instead. She did most of the work.

[He had the idea; he picked the music it's loaded with. Beyond that, though, it was all Shuri.]

From:

endsinafight

[His expression brightens more at the news that he doesn't have to use headphones to listen to it, and without waiting, he turns it on, sets it to "play." Immediately the sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice fills the quiet hut. Dream a Little Dream Of Me. He sets it down on the table, smiling when Steve laughs.]

I don't know, I have it on good authority thank you cards are a thing of the past. Email and texting are all the rave. Or Facebook.

[His lips quirk upwards. He'll definitely be writing two thank you cards, one to Shuri mostly because he wants to see her reaction to getting a thank you card. One to Steve just because. Shuri might have done the work, but it had been Steve's idea and he has little doubt his friend picked out all the music.]

From:

stillcantdance

[There's a lot of Ella Fitzgerald on there. One of Steve's happiest discoveries about the future was discovering she lived a good long life making music, and eventually covered most of the songs of Cole Porter. All of which are on that little machine, along with the other great crooners, swing music, big band, jazz...whatever he could remember or find.

Whatever he thought might make Bucky smile.]

Be really old fashioned and go in person. Assuming your goats won't miss you too much.

From:

endsinafight

[Bucky's a fan of Ella Fitzgerald, maybe more so now than he had been all those years ago. When it comes to music, it doesn't take much to make him happy. He likes a little of everything. Shuri's introduced him to some interesting artists he'd never heard of, even when he was free from HYDRA and on the run. And when a few of those pop up on randomized play, he'll be more amused than he should be. He gets a kick out of the young woman. She reminds him a bit of Becca.

He narrows his eyes at the mention of the animals, though.]

Don't drag the goats into this, Pal. [It's said with plenty of humor and he cocks his head to the side, considering for a moment, then rising to his feet, holding out his hand.]

From:

stillcantdance

[Steve raises his eyebrow a little at the outstretched hand. It's obvious what Bucky's offering--asking. And it wouldn't even be the first time. It was Bucky who gave Steve his first awkward attempts at dance lessons, decades ago when they were both boys. Bucky had been infinitely patient with Steve's frustrated, awkward attempts to mimic the graceful motions, remember which foot went where at what point, and the way he'd often just end up breathless and annoyed and convinced no girl anywhere would ever want to dance with him.

Bucky has always had more belief in Steve than Steve has in himself, in certain areas.]

I did try to bring along a dance hall and a lot of pretty redheads, but they wouldn't fit in the box.

[Steve reaches out and takes the hand, lets Bucky pull him up out of the chair. The easy, flippant language covers up the way his heart is beating faster all at once, which he's trying not to think about.]

You realize I never did learn how to dance, right? I'm likely to step on your feet. And I weigh a lot more than I used to.

From:

endsinafight

[He doesn't dismiss the notion even at Steve's arched eyebrow, waiting patiently because he knows the other man will relent eventually. It was practically illegal to refuse to dance to Ella Fitzgerald, after all. And if not illegal, some kind of cardinal sin. He laughs softly at the flippant remark, though.]

Yeah, well, you brought me a tall blonde instead, so I guess I'll just have to make do.

[And maybe, maybe those words are too close to revealing things he's kept under wraps since they were teens, but he thinks his tone is playful enough that Steve won't think twice about it. He smiles as Steve slides his hand into his own and he helps him up.]

I haven't danced in over seventy years. I might be the one stepping on your feet.

From:

stillcantdance

[That quip earns a small huff of a laugh. Steve puts his other hand at Bucky's waist, and there's no hesitation to the gesture. There's no hesitation anywhere. If anything, Steve's eyes look soft. Happy.]

Go right ahead. Pretty sure my feet can take it.

From:

endsinafight

[He's almost surprised by Steve's lack of hesitation, remembering clearly how uncertain and wary he'd been all those decades ago when Bucky'd tried to teach him to dance. Then again, he supposes that a hell of a lot's changed between then and now. It's the expression on his face that has Bucky almost stumbling over his feet. He's not sure he's ever seen Steve look quite so content before and he's not sure what to make of it.

They fall into step together, mostly just swaying to the music.]

I'm really glad you're here, Steve. [His voice is quiet. He's missed him more than he knows how to say.]

From:

stillcantdance

[A lot has changed since the last time they danced, and Steve's greater height and Bucky's missing arm aren't the greatest changes.

For one thing, there's no self-consciousness in Steve now, as they do a first few steps. The track changes but it's still Ella singing, low and slow, and they settle into the rhythm.]

Nowhere else I'd rather be.

[Just as quiet. Just as true. Steve doesn't really know how to stop, and there's always work that needs doing, but this...this is where he's happy. More than happy now, with Bucky's hand in his and his arm around Bucky's waist.

It really doesn't take long for their dance hold to become more an embrace than anything else.]

From:

endsinafight

[Steve's height had taken him weeks to get used to back in the war. All their lives until then, Bucky had been the taller of the two and he'd been used to it. Suddenly having to look up at Steve to meet his eyes had been - a lot. It's all water under the bridge now, though. He no longer found himself bothered by the change.

And the fact that Steve's lost that awkward self-consciousness that he used to carry around like unwanted baggage -- that's a bonus. A big bonus. It's like Steve finally sees the same things in himself -- at least sometimes -- that Bucky had always seen, growing up side by side.

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the quiet words as he hesitates a second and then shifts closer, letting his eyes close as he lets his hand drop from Steve's and winds his arm around his waist instead, letting out the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.]

I've been thinking. About -- how you can't go home. [To Brooklyn, he means.]

From:

stillcantdance

[Steve's height took a long time for him to get used to. A lifetime of being loomed over, suddenly ended and replaced with him looking above heads. And it'd been strangest of all with Bucky, after having it be the default to look up to him, in more ways than just the literal.

It's a while since he's been so aware that the size he is now isn't how it always was, but he's not about to complain. Not when Bucky is able to wrap his arm around Steve's waist and pull in closer. Not when Steve can--carefully, able to stop or move if the other man shows any signs of hesitating or discomfort--rest his head against Bucky's. Their hold is definitely an embrace now, for all that they're still slow dancing, swaying gently to Ella's croon.]

I could probably find a way, if I really wanted.

[And it's tempting, sometimes. Steve loves Brooklyn, loves New York, and won't deny he misses it. But at the same time, he's a different person now, someone who's fighting for the whole world. Not just his old neighborhood, not just America.

And more importantly...he turns his head a little. It's not a kiss on the top of Bucky's head, not even really a nuzzle, but the movement hints at both.]

But I mean it. Nowhere else I'd rather be than right here.

[Not Wakanda, but with Bucky, wherever Bucky is. Especially if that means here, with their arms around each other, practically able to hear each other's heartbeats. It feels more like home than anywhere he's been in longer than he can remember.]

From:

endsinafight

[There are no signs of hesitation or discomfort on Bucky's part. They'd always been somewhat tactile with each other, before war and ice and HYDRA had torn them apart for over seven decades. His best, happiest memories are of orbiting around Steve like he'd been the sun, because for Bucky, that's what he was. What he still is. It feels, in a lot of ways, that this level of closeness has always been inevitable. Like they've been hurtling toward it their entire lives.

He nods slightly in acknowledgment. Steve probably could make it back to Brooklyn. Most of the world still loved Captain America, and he can't help but think Tony Stark would let him return without too much of a fuss. His heart skips at the slight, affectionate movement from Steve, and he shifts half an inch closer to him without really thinking about it.]

Good. Because -- I was thinking about that too. Being on the move all the time...it's rough. [And Bucky would know, because he'd been on the run for two years before Steve found him in Bucharest. And maybe he hadn't been fighting like Steve has, but the constant looking over your shoulder, the fear that you'd be found and dragged somewhere else that you didn't want to be...that had been exhausting.]

So uh, I was thinking of adding onto this place. Making it bigger. Room for two. [He chews his lower lip.] You know, for when you're between missions. [A home to come back to.] If that's - something you think you might want.

From:

stillcantdance

[It's been so easy to take these small, significant steps that Steve is wondering how it hasn't happened sooner. Intellectually, he knows why--he's always busy, and more importantly Bucky's needed time to recover from a wide assortment of traumas. Or start recovering, at least; some things you don't get over, you just get past or through them. They both needed time to get used too...everything.

That's the thing about healing, though, and also about life. A lot of it happens subtly when you're not paying attention, and then time's gone by and things are different.

Steve and Bucky have always been tactile, quick to hug or clasp hands or shoulders, physically easy with each other. This is different. Steve, at least, knows it and knows why. Every time Bucky moves closer, Steve is there to welcome him and pull him in.]

I'd like that a lot.

[He would, too. He's had homes in the past few years, an apartment, his space in the Avengers Complex, but they were mostly places to leave things and to sleep in. This would actually be a home. One they made together, and that's the most appealing part of all.

Steve chuckles a little, the huff of breath moving Bucky's hair away from his scalp.]

If you think your landlord won't object. And I mean the goat, not T'challa.

From:

endsinafight

[It's far easier that he ever really imagined it could be. He wonders if it might have been this easy back before the war if he'd just had the courage. If he hadn't been so damned scared. But times had been so different then, and while they'd always been good about sticking together and keeping to themselves, that was a line Bucky hadn't dared allow himself to cross. Not with Steve. Because it might have meant getting the other man hurt, or thrown in jail or even worse and he never would have forgiven himself.

The fact that Steve isn't discouraging the closeness makes his heart beat more quickly in his chest and when he agrees that he'd like to make this place his home between missions, Bucky smiles, eyes brighter than they have been in awhile.]

Excuse you. I'm their landlord not the other way around. And as long as you feed them treats, they'll be fine.

From:

stillcantdance

[Things were different before the war. Steve'd had too much to prove, whether he ever admitted it or not, and there was a lot he didn't know or just plain hadn't thought about. And if Bucky had been too damned scared, Steve had been too damned angry, and too busy fighting all the world to stop and think.

But he's older now. They both are.]

Do they know that?

[He pulls back to look at Buck's face as he says it, laughing at him from just a few inches away. Less.

And then the laughter fades from his face and Steve swallows, because Bucky is right there. That face is as familiar as anything Steve knows in the world and more loved than he'd ever be able to put in words, not if he lives for ten times a hundred years.

He doesn't even mean to do it. He's thought of it a thousand times, more, wondered if a good time would ever come around and told himself over and over that it doesn't matter, that the only thing that matters is that Bucky is alive, safe, sane. And it's true, that's most of what Steve needs, just to know that fixed point in his world is out there.

It's not all he wants, though, which is how he ends up crossing those few inches of distance and brushing his mouth over Bucky's, and it's soft and it's light and it's happening before he even realizes he's doing it.]

From:

endsinafight

You're a punk.

[He huffs out a laugh, clear amusement on his face. He'd never in a million years thought he'd end up living in Wakanda tending to a herd of goats but here he is. He knows Steve gets a kick out of teasing him about it, and frankly he gets a kick out of Steve's amusement over it.

But then Steve grows serious and it registers just how close they're standing, face to face and a million and one emotions threaten to overwhelm him. It's far from the first time he's thought about this very thing. He's been thinking about it since they were still two punk kids running the streets of Brooklyn, even if he'd done his best to tuck away that desire, those thoughts that plagued him for years.

The feel of Steve's lips against his own sends an electric shock through him and he lifts his hand to the back of the other man's neck, anchoring him in place.]

From:

stillcantdance

[Steve is incredibly aware of every slight movement either of them makes, how their lips catch at each other, the way Bucky leans into him. The hand he had on Bucky's waist has somehow just slid around to enclose him, and the one that was on his shoulder likewise, and then Bucky's hand is on the back of his neck and any thought of stopping or breaking off is ended before it's formed.

One brush of their mouths, then another, another, each slow and deliberate. They aren't even pretending to dance now, just standing entwined, Bucky's leg forward a little between Steve's, their chests expanding against each other every time either breathes in. Another. Another.

--and then the music changes to some godforsaken thing Steve's never heard the likes of, and he has to break off and give the device still on the table an incredulous, annoyed look, as if it's ruined the moment on purpose. Which for all he knows, it might have. It'd be just like Shuri.

And then the hilarity of it all catches up to him and he bursts out laughing, looks at Bucky, laughs some more, still clinging to the other man and laughing until he almost can't breathe.]

From:

endsinafight

[By the time the music changes abruptly -- to something loud and very jarring, Bucky's breathless and a little dazed from the fact that he and Steve just kissed -- and not just something quick and chaste -- but with the promise of something more that's still undefined and he swallows hard.

There's no doubt that Shuri picked this song out and he grimaces momentarily until he can't help but laugh at how hard Steve is laughing.]

Okay, this is -- definitely not Ella Fitzgerald.

[He chuckles and reluctantly lets his hand drop from Steve's neck before moving to change the music to something less -- loud.]

From:

stillcantdance

[Steve would reply to agree, but he's still breathless from laughing. It's partly relief, he knows, a reaction to the fact that he's just kissed Bucky, and more importantly Bucky kissed him back. And the world hasn't ended, no one's burst in with guns blazing, Bucky hasn't stepped back and said no, he can't do this, for whatever reason (and whatever the reason Steve would have respected it, but God he's relieved that's not what's happened)...

All the things that might have gone wrong, all the various disasters that have happened to them both...yeah, a little hideous noise pretending to be music is welcome compared to the other possibilities, and he has to laugh at that.]

You sure? A lot of things have changed--

[But he can't even finish, can't even joke that the divine Ella Fitzgerald's style has changed that much, because he just sets himself off again. He follows Bucky to the table and leans on it, looking down at the gizmo that's set this off. Bucky has better luck when he changes the track, which goes back to something more from their time. Instrumental, lots of trumpets, proper big band stuff. Definitely meant for dancing to. Steve turns his head and grins at Buck, holding out a hand.]

Shall we try again?

[At dancing, the hand suggests. At kissing, he hopes. At anything, really. Everything.]