#( you're like a shooting star in the rain || goodsouldier )

[crimsonscorpii]

@goodsouldier || plotted

      It’s his favourite time of the month. Hell it’d be his favourite time of the week, of the day if not for the fact that Steve’s visits were usually fleeting and he always had to leave, to return to the compound and continue detailing every single step, breath and movement he took when returning those stones. Bucky tells himself he doesn’t mind though, tells himself he’ll take what Steve can give him and that in itself is a huge step. For him, he can remember the feeling of being pulled apart, of being weightless and nothing, then blinking back into existence being told Steve needs him.

      He’s also familiar with the world changing in a blink of an eye, of being thrust into a situation with little info and hearing that a large amount of time has passed him by. What’s different this time though is... Steve. He died right in front of Steve, again, five years ago. He had died and Steve had been forced to live his life, continue on while the world went to shit and Bucky was gone. He can see that pain every time they look at each other. He can see the distance, that for Bucky their relationship was good and their last kiss had felt only moments ago in the middle of battle, a moment of heat. For Steve... that was years ago.

      Which makes this his favourite time of the month. When Steve would come to visit him with sad, tired eyes and an exhausted mind, and they’d sit together, spend time in each other’s company and Bucky would dance around the cravings to touch and be touches while Steve works out how he feels and what’s best for him. It had taken them decades to admit true feelings and he’s too scared to let that slip by. Which is also why, when Bucky enters the kitchen with a bag of takeaway food and sets in on the bare table and notices Steve leaning against the side of the couch, Bucky is reminded that he hasn’t told Steve much yet, about what he’s being forced to do.

      Later, he tells himself as he reaches into the back to fish out the takeaway trays and set them on the table, mind calculating when he’d last seen a fork in the kitchen and lifting his head to give Steve a relieved, warm smile.

           “I don’t ever get tired of you appearing in my apartment like this,” he comments, breath sucking in as the heat from the foil threatens to melt his fingers as he moves food from bag to table, “You hungry? I got a bunch of stuff, figured we could dip in and everything and you can tell me how things are going at the compound?” 

[crimsonscorpii]

(mafia verse) Steve lifts Bucky up and places him on the kitchen counter, as if he weighs nothing. The oven timer warming up their breakfast bagels ticks quietly behind them, the coffee percolates beside them. Steve looks up at the love of his life and draws him in for a slow, warm kiss, one hand at his jaw, thumb pressing into his cheek, other hand sliding around his waist, under the unbuttoned white shirt Bucky had thrown on from the floor.

      The coffee is forgotten about the second Bucky feels the hands around his waist, letting go of the cup in time to be plucked up from where he’d been lazily preparing coffee for the both of them and placed gently on the counter like he was something so precious. And oh, he certainly feels that way after a night with Steve writing his name on every muscle Bucky owned. He smiles as lazily as his own arms come to drape around Steve’s neck, melting into the kiss with a low, satisfied hum.

      Love he never thought he deserved and yet Steve gives to him so honestly and completely. Quite the same, the love of his life and more. He kisses lazy, from contentedness than anything else and his torso curves into Steve when he feels a wandering hand slip over healing bruises. He moans then, eyes flickering open as he leans back purely to take in Steve’s gorgeous eyes.

            “You know, we’ll never get breakfast at this rate, not that I’m complaining but for the good of your health we should eat first,” he murmurs, ignoring his own advice as he leans in for another slow, full kiss. It’s lazy, it’s slow and intimate and just as sexy. God he’s so fucking in love.

@goodsouldier

[crimsonscorpii]

“I lie awake at night and imagine running my fingers through your hair.” ( from Steve, post tfatws verse )

SOFT FLUFF - @goodsouldier

      They’re tucked up together on the new couch - or maybe it’s an old couch, Bucky really isn’t sure but it’s theirs and that’s all that really matters. He’s pressed himself in so tightly to Steve’s side and under his arm that there’s no way he’s coming free any time soon. The leg he has flung over Steve’s thigh confirms that. So the house is still bare because Bucky wants everything to take it’s time and maybe it’s also really hard to keep their hands off each other but times like this? When there’s skin on skin and gentle breathing and strong arms wrapped around him.

      Such normalcy in the wake of everything feels unreal and Bucky is almost too scared to let go, just in case. Steve’s the one single constant that he has no problem admitting he needs in his life. When he hears the rumble in his lovers chest, his head shifts up a little, cheek sliding against chest as Steve breaks the silence and reveals quite possibly one of the softest things Bucky has ever heard him say.

      He lifts his head then, a lazy smile slipping onto his lips as he gazes up into those stunning blue eyes before bracing his hand on Steve’s chest just enough to push himself up and kiss the edge of Steve’s jaw.

            “Do it,” he murmurs quietly, “everything that gets in the way of things like that in the past, they don’t reach us here. And waking up to feel your fingers running through my hair, I ain’t got any complaints about that Stevie. Just...” His brow creases a little as he studies the features above him, “should I be worried that you lay awake at night? Not to brag but I sleep pretty well when you’re next to me.”

[crimsonscorpii]

(post tfatws verse) The keys dangle on Steve's finger and he pulls Bucky in by the shoulders with his free arm, standing in the doorway of their new /home/. It was unfurnished, as of right now, but it was officially theirs. 'Home sweet home, baby,' Steve murmurs, pressing a kiss to Bucky's temple.

      It’s theirs. It’s really, truly, all theirs. It doesn’t feel real, even with Steve’s arm around his shoulder and the jangle of keys ringing in his ears, it doesn’t feel like it for them. Something so normal and simple, secluded enough that they don’t have to worry but perfect enough for them to build a home together without anything to stand in their way. He stands there for a long moment before sinking into Steve’s hold and sliding his own arms around Steve’s waist. He pulls him close with a squeeze, smiling before tilting his head up and pressing a kiss to the underside of Steve’s jaw.

            “It really is ours huh?” he asks, even though he knows. The papers are signed, the payment sorted. This is their own place. He never has to be alone ever again. “God, it doesn’t feel real. With the added bonus of so many rooms to christen...”

@goodsouldier