[ What else is there but to keep himself busy, just so that he doesn't have the time to think about Bucky's absence in his life? The man had left a gaping hole in his heart when he'd left -- wounds heal, bruises fade, and for Bucky, Steve would be happy to be the subject of his violence; he knows that's not healthy, that their relationship would be a psychologist's wet dream, but he doesn't care. Theirs is one that had withstood the test of time; Steve had loved him with a ferocity that defied all explanation and understanding, and the years have only made it stronger. Bucky had put up with too damn much for too long, he knows, and he knows, too, that he'd caused Barnes no small amount of grief on far too many occasions. And yet, the man had come through for him every time, without fail.
Now that Bucky needs him, how can he turn away? Sharon is a lovely woman, to be sure -- and perhaps in another lifetime he would have asked her out and they could have been something more; but Bucky stands head and shoulders above everyone else, and it's just not fair to drag someone into this knowing that they would forever be second place, right?
Bucky's absence in the apartment is keenly felt, and Steve consciously tries not to think too hard on the way Bucky's side of the bed is always empty, even if he presses his nose into Bucky's pillow and breathes him in, the fading scent of him stirring an undeniable heartache and longing in the deep of night. He calls Bucky still, sometimes, and every time the call goes unanswered.
He learns to take solace in the fact that the phone isn't dead, which means Bucky's alive somewhere. And here, he can't help but sneak glances at him, keenly aware of Bucky's scrutiny, his presence, and the obvious fact that Sharon Carter's proximity to Steve bothers the hell out of the man. A lesser man would have been pleased by that; but Steve has never needed Bucky to prove his affection to him, not when they've been through too damn much. Although right now Bucky's doing his best to keep things light, warm and superficial, and Steve is quiet for a moment when he asks how he's doing. He can't bring himself to lie, not to him, not when he's missed him every hour of every day; and that question finally brings him out of his mission mindset.
It's just as well that they're now alone, because Steve exhales. ]
I've missed you. [ So much for keeping things light, congenial. ] What about you? Are you -- [ happy? ] doing okay?
no subject
[ What else is there but to keep himself busy, just so that he doesn't have the time to think about Bucky's absence in his life? The man had left a gaping hole in his heart when he'd left -- wounds heal, bruises fade, and for Bucky, Steve would be happy to be the subject of his violence; he knows that's not healthy, that their relationship would be a psychologist's wet dream, but he doesn't care. Theirs is one that had withstood the test of time; Steve had loved him with a ferocity that defied all explanation and understanding, and the years have only made it stronger. Bucky had put up with too damn much for too long, he knows, and he knows, too, that he'd caused Barnes no small amount of grief on far too many occasions. And yet, the man had come through for him every time, without fail.
Now that Bucky needs him, how can he turn away? Sharon is a lovely woman, to be sure -- and perhaps in another lifetime he would have asked her out and they could have been something more; but Bucky stands head and shoulders above everyone else, and it's just not fair to drag someone into this knowing that they would forever be second place, right?
Bucky's absence in the apartment is keenly felt, and Steve consciously tries not to think too hard on the way Bucky's side of the bed is always empty, even if he presses his nose into Bucky's pillow and breathes him in, the fading scent of him stirring an undeniable heartache and longing in the deep of night. He calls Bucky still, sometimes, and every time the call goes unanswered.
He learns to take solace in the fact that the phone isn't dead, which means Bucky's alive somewhere. And here, he can't help but sneak glances at him, keenly aware of Bucky's scrutiny, his presence, and the obvious fact that Sharon Carter's proximity to Steve bothers the hell out of the man. A lesser man would have been pleased by that; but Steve has never needed Bucky to prove his affection to him, not when they've been through too damn much. Although right now Bucky's doing his best to keep things light, warm and superficial, and Steve is quiet for a moment when he asks how he's doing. He can't bring himself to lie, not to him, not when he's missed him every hour of every day; and that question finally brings him out of his mission mindset.
It's just as well that they're now alone, because Steve exhales. ]
I've missed you. [ So much for keeping things light, congenial. ] What about you? Are you -- [ happy? ] doing okay?