bakerstreet | Can't wait

Can't wait

❝Finally❞

There's always been tension between the two of you, a will-they-won't they kind of vibe. Perhaps you're even romantically involved, if that's your way. But for some reason, you haven't taken the next step yet.

Now, though, you're finally ready to be sexually intimate.

How to Play:
★ Comment with your character and preferences.
★ Comment to others.
★ Play out the scene.

Prompts:
☆ First Time: This is your first time having sex, so it was something to approach with caution.
☆ Unsure: You're uncertain of your skill or prowess or even how to go about this.
☆ Uncorrupted: One of you is more innocent, younger, more inexperienced, and the other doesn't want to take that away.
☆ Differences: The two of you are different enough - perhaps even different species - that intimacy may be an issue, but you're ready to attack it head on.
☆ Taken: You aren't "together," and one of you is involved with someone else. This is the big decision to do an act that may be viewed as heinous.
☆ Forbidden: There's been no sexual contact because it's utterly forbidden, be it incest, class difference, enemies, etc.
☆ Realization: Maybe you'd been friends, but this is the first time you've really seen them in that light.
☆ Otherwise Distracted: Whether it be a job, a holy mission, or anything else along those lines, you've just been too busy to be with someone like that because it would take your mind away from what you have to do.
☆ Finally Free: Before, you just didn't have the chance. Now you do.
☆ Only Time: You were unsure before, but now, it looks like you'll only have this once chance to be together.
☆ A Long Time: You've been separated and it happened before you could get to the good parts. You want to pick up where you left off.
☆ Desperate: You've wanted them for so long...God, this feels so good, you never want it to stop.
☆ Romantic: You want it to be perfect.
☆ Waiting Until Marriage: Doing things all proper-like.
☆ FREE STYLE

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"I'll never get you out of it," he says with a little more genuine smile. "Until the hot water runs out."

Maybe when they got back from this trip Steve would make his apartment a little more comfortable. Not that it isn't but he has money for more. He can afford better. He just doesn't spend the money. Just in case. It's left over from the Depression. He might need that money for an emergency.

He shrugs as he pushes some mac & cheese around his plate. "All that places I want to go... I wanted to see with you. I guess we're doing that now. Grand Canyon being at the top of the list. We'll get there."

They're already on their way there. Steve shouldn't have to worry about it just because they're going slow.

“I’d definitely share with you,” he hadn’t meant it quite so suggestively, but there’s no deny thing the double entendre, there. He doesn’t bother correcting it.

Bucky had a hard time making any space he found himself in look like a real person lived there. Personal touches were a slower process for him in the progression of everything else, but he has slowly started integrating more stuff into his areas.

“Yeah, we are,” he nods a little. “I know today was kind of rough, but… at least for once the worst thing we actually had to deal with was shitty traffic?” Better than Nazis and HYDRA or psychopathic aliens, if you ask Bucky. It was almost a relief when things like that happened. Not because he particularly loves being trapped in traffic, but he aches for something normal so much that it almost feels like a good thing, comparatively.

Maybe that's really what it comes down to. They aren't running from anything but maybe in the back of his mind Steve felt like they were. Delays might have brought that to the front of his mind.

"I think a good night sleep will fix the rest of it and then a run in the morning." Steve hasn't given up his five mile runs in the morning. Physical exercise is almost meditative these days because he can just keep running and running and running.

"Let's take a day off the road," he suggests, studying Bucky across the table. "We'll do some laundry, get some supplies, and then start again the next day."

It's a really hard mindset to get out of, Bucky struggles with it still, too.

He smiles a little and huffs a laugh, "I hope you don't expect me to be joining you," Bucky has never been an early riser if he had a choice in the matter. Before the war, any day he didn't have to go to the docks or do something important, he wasn't getting out of bed before 10am.

If he does anything at all when Steve slips out in the morning, it would be trying to convince him to skip the run. Stay.

Bucky pushes the thought aside, grinning at the idea of taking a day just to themselves, out of the car. "Sounds good."

At least clean-up with takeout is easy enough. Now, Bucky is curled up against the pillows at the head of the bed with a journal in his lap. He picked up the habit when he was still trying to stitch parts of himself together and just never really quit.

The routine of it is nice, something quiet to do before bed that isn't going to keep him wired like scrolling social media would. It's such an easy way to sink time doing nothing, and it's a habit he's found himself in a lot. Sometimes, he just needs the noise to quiet the static in his own mind.

"I know better than trying to wake you up early." Steve isn't going to waste time in the morning trying to get Bucky to exercise with him. Sam seems to be the only one stubborn enough to stick to Steve's early morning schedule and long runs.

After the clean up is done Steve calls down to the front desk to let them know they'll be extending their stay one more day, possibly two. They were very accommodating and happy to extend the stay.

There's not much else for Steve to do after that. He tries to read but the words just sort of run together. Finally, he gives up and lays down, stretching out next to Bucky. He closes his but he's not sleeping. He's thinking.

His tense body language and idle drumming of his fingers where his hands are folded across his stomach probably give that away.

He glances over when Steve finally joins him on the bed. A little smile gracing his lips for a moment.

But only a moment.

He squints down at him now and pokes him in the side with the pen in his hand. “Nickel for your thoughts?” Steve’s thoughts are definitely worth more than pennies, so he upped the ante.

"No one carries nickels anymore. Cash is old fashioned." He sighs and opens his eyes staring up at the ceiling for a moment before he looks over at Bucky.

"You shouldn't let me interrupt your writing. I know it's important." Steve's seen him do it every night without fail. Sometimes for a long time. Sometimes it's just a short scribble. He's never asked what Bucky's writing, just watched.

He's not restless like before but sometimes this happened. Steve's thoughts just kept going. Insomnia they called it. It was annoying when it struck.

“So are we,” he points out in a gentle tease, hoping it might ease whatever tensions are currently plaguing him.

He smiles softly. “That’s sweet, but it’s-” ‘Fine’, that’s the usual answer isn’t it? And it is fine, but it sounds like a bad cop-out. The second instant finisher that comes to mind is, ‘not important’, but that isn’t true either. “easy to pick back up.”

With that, he slips the pen between the pages to keep his place and sets the journal aside. “Talk to me,” he nudges the conversation again softly as he reaches over idly to slide his fingers through Steve’s hair.

"I think..." Steve trails off and closes his eyes as Bucky pets through his hair. It settles him a little bit. When he reopens his eyes they're more focus. "I think I feel guilty about the roadtrip."

Which is such a stupid thing to finally say out loud it makes Steve frown shortly after saying it. "Since I got out of the ice I've really done nothing but be Captain America. I feel like there are a lot of people expecting me to still be that right now."

He turns his head slightly to look at Bucky. "Even though... sometimes... I just want to be myself and not the symbol I'm supposed to be. Or the symbol everyone wants me to be."

He doesn’t push, just keeps a steady rhythm against Steve’s scalp with his fingers and lets him figure out what he wants to say. Whatever he might have thought was coming, that wasn’t it. It hits harder than he might have expected, too. But his features are impassive as he listens to the rest.

Sometimes, it’s best not to react too much before some extra context is placed on the table.

“A lot of people are probably always going to expect something from you,” That is, of course, part of the gig. “Doesn’t mean you have to be what they want you to be.”

He knows it’s always been a lot, there’s so much pressure to be on and perfect all the time when every move you make, word you speak, is being watched and waited for on bated breath. It was something they needed during the war, but putting it all on the shoulders of one person was so much to ask for.

“For what it’s worth,” he smiles softly down at him. “You’ve always just been Steve to me.”

"Yeah, but you've always been special."

Steve never has to be Captain America around Bucky. He gets to be himself with his temper and sarcasm. Not cynicism. Steve's never stopped being an optimism but his mood can get dark sometimes. The war would do that to anyone and Steve saw some of the worst of it fighting Hydra.

"And I am glad we're doing this," he says firmly because he is. Sometimes sitting in the car silently is what makes Steve the happiest. That slow traffic must have triggered his guilt for some reason. "It almost feels like all those childish dreams we made are finally coming true."

Which had never seemed possible in the war and even before that. Two constantly on the edge of broke young men in Brooklyn just trying to survive would never save enough for train tickets to the Grand Canyon. Beside, Steve thought he would die before thirty.

That earns a rueful flash of a smile and he ducks his head slightly, “I’m not,” he assures him with a shake of his head. “I’m just me,” and still pretty broken in possibly irreparable ways.

He smiles, something more genuine this time, “They weren’t childish, but… I am glad we’re finally able to realize some of those old dreams.”

"You." Steve reaches up and pokes Bucky in the chest. "The only person in Brooklyn who thought a skinny kid with a temper was worth anything. You really are special Buck."

Steve knows Bucky doesn't see himself like that. He carries all that guilt for what Hydra made him do and doesn't listen when Steve tells him it wasn't his fault. Bucky was the weapon Hydra chose to use, that's all. A weapon doesn't have a choice.

None of that matters to Bucky but Steve's just as stubborn as before. He's going to get that through Bucky's head one of these days.

"Some of them, yeah." Steve chuckles and shakes his head. "Only took me getting frozen in ice for my art to make it to the Met. Not exactly how I saw that one coming around."

His tongue darts over his lips and he scoffs, batting Steve's hand away. "No," he whispers, shaking his head, but he doesn't bother pushing the point any further than that. That's something they're never really going to see eye-to-eye on, he thinks.

Anything that might have been special about him at some point had long-since been carved out of him. Things are... some version of better, for the most part. His time in Wakanda went a long way in his healing process, but there are still plenty of things he has to work on, to work through.

"Yeah, no shit," he laughs softly. "It wouldda been, you know?" he says into the short silence that lapses between them. Bucky nudges Steve's shoulder. "If everything had gone the way it supposed to. You still wouldda end up with a gallery at The Met."

It's why they worked so well together- even if they couldn't believe in themselves, they could believe in each other.

Steve rolls his eyes. "You're special to me. And don't argue that one."

But he is. Bucky is so special to Steve. He tore apart his own team to make sure Bucky was safe and protected. He'd do it again too. Sure, he had regrets but not about that. Never about that. Of course Bucky's special even if he doesn't see himself like that.

"The way it was supposed to, yeah." Steve breathes out a heavy sigh. "It seems so recent but I know it's been seventy years. And silly now, you know? With the war. Us talking about gallery openings and you with a respectable job and wife. Times weren't simpler back then but it feels like it now after everything else."

The one constant in Steve's life had always been Bucky. Until the war. Until that train. Now, look at them. "You still gotta have a dream though, right? Something you want to do now besides us checking off things from the past."

He gives him a sheepish look, "Okay, okay." He can give him that. He knows that Steve sees something in him, and he has to hope he's right and not just blinded by their history, because the alternative is a lot more terrifying.

"Yeah...hindsight's 20-20, right?" he scoffs softly. "It's weird, the...dissonance in the time that passed without us."

He takes a slow, deep breath in. "All I want is to be able to have whatever the closest thing I can get to a normal life looks like. The rest will fall into place eventually. I'm still kind of figuring out what it looks like, though. One thing I know for sure..." he looks over at Steve and smiles softly again, "you're included in every version of it."

Steve's smile is almost radiant when Bucky says that. He let Bucky go under in Wakanda and it hurt like hell but it had been the right thing. If Bucky said right now that he needs a life away from Steve it would hurt like hell but Steve would give him that.

"I don't really know what normal is either," he says, his smile softening slightly but no less genuine. "I haven't tried since waking up. But you're gonna be there. I don't think I can have normal without you around. God, sorry, that puts so much pressure on you."

Steve drops his arm over his eyes. "You can tell me to go away when you need to. I don't want to make it sound like that's not an option."

Bucky isn't sure how a person can look like the literal personification of sunshine, but when he's smiling like that, Steve does a damn good job of it. It's the smile that makes everything seem better, like the world is a little brighter for it, and the one that can still make something in his chest flutter.

"We'll figure it out as we go," they had always been good at that part of things, if nothing else, at least. He shifts and drapes an arm across Steve's chest, resting his chin on the back of his hand. "Hey," he reaches with his free hand to try and push his arm away from his eyes. "look at me."

With his eyes covered for a second Steve can imagine they're back in Brooklyn in the late 30's. How many times had they done this as boys and young men? Laid in bed and talked about all their hopes and dreams. Of course, Steve can breathe easily with Bucky's weight on him these days but it's still reassuringly familiar and comforting.

He lifts his arm away and tucks it behind his head. He raises an eyebrow as he looks at Bucky. "Yeah, what do you want?"

His tone is playful and warm. His anxieties and guilt is fading away. Bucky is good at chasing away his bad moods.

"To see your face," he flashes a quick smile. "But also... to ask– why would I ever wanna tell you to go away? Hmm?" he reaches up to brush his thumb gently across Steve's jaw.

"Me being around has never exactly brought peace and quiet to your life," he says softly even as he turns and leans into Bucky's hand. "I would understand if you wanted a farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere like Clint."

Where Steve would visit occasionally but it wouldn't be like before. It wouldn't stress Bucky's mind any. He wouldn't have to worry about accidentally hurting anyone.

"I bring trouble with me wherever I go." And sometimes Steve starts that trouble. It's just who he is.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters in his stomach when Steve leans into him that way. God, he loves him. Loves him so much it aches.

"Wouldn't change it for a thing." If it meant giving up Steve, Bucky isn't sure he could do it.

He nods a little, "Yeah, who you tellin'?" he chuckles lightly. "But I'm kinda crazy like that... " his gaze drifts involuntarily down to Steve's lips, "Plus, I like the chaos," he whispers softly, tucking. his lower lip between his teeth.

"That's a lie," he says with a fond laugh, still leaning to Bucky's palm. "Don't do anything stupid, that's what you always told me every time you went anywhere. You sure you don't want me to settle down?"

And every time Bucky went away Steve somehow found something stupid to do. Like let himself be experimented on by the Army. Like crash a plane in the arctic. Like destroy the entire organization he worked for.

Steve's real bad at keeping away from stupid when he didn't have Bucky around to be his voice of reason.

He cups his hand around Steve's face, thumb sliding gently over his cheek. "'Cuz how the hell was I gonna stop ya when I wasn't around?"

"No... I wouldn't change you for the world," he shakes his head, letting his hand fall, resting flat above Steve's heart against his chest. "This is my favorite part of you. Nobody's got a heart like you," he murmurs softly, a smile spreading across his lips.

Steve rests his hand over Bucky's. Yeah, he definitely feels better. Steve can't be Captain America without being himself. That's why he was chosen for Project Rebirth. Of course it was the only person who really knew him who reminded him of that.

"Yeah, well, you're good at reminding me of that," Steve says as he laces his fingers through Bucky's because he can. "You're the one that knows it best."

No one else knew who Steve was before Captain America.

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