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abunchofstories · 6 years ago

Text

When in Romania

A Bucky Barnes/OFC One-Shot - 8053 words

The OFC POV of Last Night in Bucharest about Bucky’s last night before the events of Civil War happened.

By: @lowkeysebastianstan

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Allusions Of Torture, Angst, PTSD, Explicit M/F Sex, 1st person POV, Excessive Use Of Commas, Far Too Long Paragraphs, Waffling, Adverbs, Google Translated Romanian

A wall of heat and smoke hit me when I opened the door, a low murmur of voices underlined by the beat from a jukebox in the corner. It was a dive, there was no other way to describe it, but it was just what I wanted, some local flavour and a drink on my last night. I was happy with the hotel, more of a hostel really, but serving my needs perfectly.

It was the last leg of my journey, the next day I was leaving Bucharest and flying to Paris, where I was staying 3 days before returning home. It had been a perfect journey: Ukraine for a week with my family, even meeting some of my resident ones. There were only very distant cousins left, but it was still exciting to see where one's roots were. We had been a group of 5, myself and 4 cousins in the same age range, and we'd had a blast. It had been great, but after a week with them I'd taken off on my own, finally allowing myself the luxury of a trip I'd wanted for so long.

Truth be told the destinations had little bearing on it, I'd just wanted to get away, to be alone, to explore. Europe was an obvious choice, culturally diverse and filled with art and history. I'd never been on my own like this, and every step of the way had been an adventure. But it was coming to an end, after 4 nights in Romania I was heading back and sad as the thought was, I was determined to have a nice last evening. I scanned the room, saw a stool at the bar, went over and sat down, fishing the phrase book out of my bag. The bartender came over and gave me a friendly nod.

"Bună seara. Ce pot să-ți aduc, dor?" I smiled and indicated the book, flicking through it.

"No no. I can speak English. What can I get you, miss?" He smiled and shook his head, indicating the wall behind him, liquors and beers, local and imported. I shook my head and held up a finger.

"Bunã seara. Nu. Pot obține un gin tonic, vă rugăm să." I sent him a questioning smile, and he nodded appreciatively.

"Foarte bine!" He turned and fetched the bottle, and mixed the drink. "Cei mai mulți oameni nici măcar nu încearcă să vorbească românește, ei cred că e prea greu." I stared and broke out in a giggle, shaking my head.

"Nu. No. Sorry. I can't keep up, I have no idea what you just said." He laughed.

"Well, the effort is much appreciated. Most people don't even try, Romanian is a hard language to learn, or so they say." He slid the drink on the counter. "On the house."

"Thank you. That's very nice."

"Well, it's not often we get pretty ladies so eager to learn." I smiled brilliantly at the kind gesture and took a small sip. Light on the tonic, just as I liked it. The bartender went over to another customer waiting, started chatting in the same easy manner, and I swirled around and took in the room.

Mostly small groups of friends, a small area over by the jukebox was cleared for dancing, where a couple of girls stood laughing—all in all a friendly, easy scene. Just what I was looking for, and I was glad I had ventured out a bit. The place was just around the corner from my small 2-star hotel, and I looked forward to a few drinks and my bed before I had to get up early to catch my flight. I sighed contentedly and turned back, my elbows on the worn counter. Suddenly I could feel the burning sensation of someone staring at me and turned my head to the far end of the bar.

He was in his mid- to late twenties, and casually dressed in a red henley, a bit frayed at the sleeves. He had a kind of homeless look about him, his brown hair was almost shoulder length and in need of a trim, and he was sporting a five-day stubble. His face was angular, with shiny red lips, sharp cheekbones, full cheeks and a strong jawline with a small dimple on the chin.

He turned his eyes down when he saw me looking, bit his lip and gave his beer a twirl before raising it to his mouth, taking a sip in what he clearly hoped was a casual manner, lifting his gaze and looked straight at me. His eyes were dark in the light, but they seemed blue, not brown, and I stared right back, hypnotized. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I raised my glass, tipped it at him, and gave him what I hoped was a winning smile.

He smiled back, but his whole demeanour changed, and he suddenly looked almost scared, like an animal ready to take flight. He down set his bottle and seemed on the verge of rising when he stopped, and had what looked like an internal discussion before sinking back on his seat. He faced me slowly, and his wide shoulders sank imperceptibly. He straightened and elevated his beer towards me, giving me a tiny nod and a shy smile. The whole thing lasted maybe three seconds, but his inner struggle was fascinating to watch. I leaned forward, and scanning the bar I saw the stool closest to him was vacant. I gave him a quizzical look and pointed my glass at it, waiting for his approval before I moved down, hoisting myself up at it.

Up close I saw his face was more lined, more worn, and I upped my estimate to late twenties early thirties, it giving him a more mature, more rugged look. It made him if possible even more gorgeous. His eyes were a startling light blue, his hair framing his face and falling into them, and he smelled clean and freshly showered. So probably not homeless then. He was breathtaking, and he was taking mine. I gave him my warmest smile and extended my hand, introducing myself. He stared at it for a long moment, but at the end taking it, his warm, massive hand swallowing mine.

"Bu—Jam—Bucky. My name is Bucky." He let go of my hand and grabbed the beer, taking a long draught. I copied him, he clearly needed the reprieve.

"Bucky." I tasted the unusual name. "That's not local. So... American?" His tongue darted out, running over his lips, making them shine. He swallowed.

"Yes. American. But I live here now." He shrugged, lifting himself up on the bar, causing his arm to flex and his biceps to bulge. His left arm and gloved hand stayed curiously still, and it seemed bigger than his right, looking like he had been injured and was sporting a bandage. A glimpse of bared skin at his hip where his sweater was pulled up made me feel a twinge in my stomach, and a familiar warmth spreading, making me squirm ever so slightly. He was looking at me almost apologetic, silently begging me not to ask any more questions. I quickly decided to pack my curiosity away, burning as it was.

"I'm just coming through. I'm trekking Europe. Sort of an adult interrail. Planes not trains." He relaxed a little, and kept my gaze.

"Interrail?"

"Yes. It's a European thing. Kids get train tickets, and travel around, backpacking all over. Sort of a rite of passage." I didn't question his ignorance, after all my own discovery of the concept was fairly recent. "You know, some architecture and culture in Prague for a couple of nights, beer in Berlin for three, then Athens and Rome for art and history, some sunbathing in southern Spain before ending in a stupor on Jim Morrison's grave at Père Lachaise." He nodded and smiled, visibly starting to enjoy himself more.

"Jim Morrison?" He shot me an inquiring look.

"The front singer in The Doors?" I cocked my head a little, studying him. Who didn't know Jim Morrison?

"Ah. Yes, of course." He cleared his throat, dropping the line of questioning. "And you do this? Alone?"

"Yes. This is my last stop before Paris. And the stupor. Why not?"

"Well, you're a..." He gestured vaguely to my body. "Well, I mean, is it safe?"

My eyebrows shot up in mock horror. "What? You think a woman can't take care of herself?"

A fleeting panic crossed his face, his hand threading into his hair, pushing it away from his face.

"No, I didn't mean to imply—I mean, I didn't..." He chuckled and shook his head. "You're joking. Sorry."

I grinned widely, glad we were finally getting somewhere. "Yes. Or not really. But you're not the first man, or woman for that matter, who's asked me that. And in some ways it's a fair point, shitty as it is." I shrugged. "The world has changed little in the last century." He nodded.

"Yes. Apart from the world changing. I think it's become rather unrecognisable." I looked at him, laughing. How old was he?

"Sure. I guess. In some ways. But you'd think with all the technical advances these things would change too. That was my point."

"Ah. In that case, yes. One would think it'd be the case. I'm sorry." I gave a small snort.

"It's not your fault. I'm just glad you agree." I drained my drink, and he mimicked me, emptying his beer.

"Another? On me." The words were a little rushed, with an edge of uncertainty, but he relaxed when I smiled and nodded.

"Sure. Thank you."

"Scuzati-ma." He called over to the bartender, who turned with a friendly smile. "O alta bere pentru mine, și la fel pentru doamna, oricare ar fi ea are."

I looked at him, a slight awe in my eyes, he sounded completely fluid. The deep timbre of his voice struck some other cords in me, thumping and warmth rushing down between my legs. I bit my lip and arranged my face in what I hoped was a neutral expression. The bartender brought our drinks over, and Bucky slid some bills on the counter.

"Vă mulțumesc, păstrați schimbarea."

The bartender took the money and gave an appreciative nod, winking at me in passing, hiding a smirk. Damn. I guess my expression wasn't all that neutral after all. I could feel a flush spreading, and in an effort to save the situation, I raised my glass at him.

"To Romanian, and the foreigners who really make an effort to learn it." He returned the gesture and grinned, a small blush colouring his cheeks.

"I've been here for some time. It's not that hard to learn. Besides, I've got a fair knowledge of Slavic languages."

"Really? How about Ukrainian?" He laughed and gave me a few phrases, some I even understood. I was fascinated.

"Russian? Hungarian? Latvian?" He indulged me further, and I shook my head, trying some others as well.

"How about French? German?" His whole frame had eased up, he was clearly enjoying the game, his face all smiles and small laughs.

He was utterly charming, and I couldn't for the life of me imagine what had caused his behaviour earlier. A man like this should have women swarming him, and judging him now it wasn't his first outing, he was used to impress, and he was obviously flirting, constantly shooting me discreet, but obvious looks hitting my bare arms, my mouth, my chest.

My whole body was humming under his searching glances, and the heat and moisture between my legs kept me on edge, I couldn't remember when I last had been so attracted to someone. I willed myself to focus and soon the conversation was flowing smoothly.

We talked about movies and music, he seemed very much up on the classics and recent chart-toppers, but I couldn't discern a particular taste. We moved on to books, travel and current events, the situation in Sokovia and the rise in terrorism first among them. He seemed a little hesitant at first but had a keen mind, and when we got into history and architecture his knowledge seemed as extensive as that of languages, so I risked another few questions.

"I actually had a tour of myself when I was young. Like you. A tour of Europe." At first he seemed like he was going to shy away from it, and I was worried I had pushed it too far, but then he just shrugged, the alcohol having done its job. He gave me a smug smile, and I could see there was no point pressing it, but he still had me rolling my eyes in exasperation. I shook my head and changed the topic, not wanting to break the flow. He took the cue, and we settled back into our easy exchange, him refreshing our drinks whenever needed, keeping us comfortably inebriated.

After a while I needed the ladies, and I slid off my seat and braced my arm on the counter, tilted forward and caught my sandal in the footwell, tumbled down and landed with a small gasp between his thighs, an inch from his face. He froze, startled, and seemed as rooted to the spot as I was. I became acutely aware of his body heat, my hand on a denim-clad massive, rock hard thigh that was brushing mine where my flimsy linen dress had ridden up, the strange hardness of his left hand where it had grabbed my shoulder in an attempt to steady me, but mostly I was aware of his eyes and his warm breath mingling with mine. I swallowed.

"Want to get out of here?" My voice was a pathetic whisper, but he seemed to hear it well enough. He nodded, eyes still locked in mine.

"Yeah." He licked his lips and nodded again. "Yeah. I do."

I smiled and put my hand carefully on his chest, the hard thumping of his heart reverberating the incessant thrumming of mine.

"Okay. Gimme a minute." I tore myself away and shakily found my way to the ladies room, trying to steady both my heart and my lungs. I finished up, splashed some water on my face, and returned, exhaling in relief when I saw him, having half expected him to have made a break for it in my absence.

His eyes were glued to me as soon as I emerged, maybe he had expected the same—envisioned me trying to escape through the bathroom window. The thought was ridiculous, and a nervous giggle burst from my mouth. I strode over to him, faking some confidence, now that it came to it I was more nervous than I'd thought I would be.

"Hi." His lips widened in a small smile, but his eyes were still boring into mine, the expression unmistakable.

"Hi." I took his hand gingerly, and he twisted his, entwining our fingers. "Shall we?" He nodded and grabbed his jacket from the back of his stool, and together we walked out, the cool evening air refreshing after the temperature inside. He stopped just outside and looked at me.

"So? Where do you want to... I mean, what do you..." He cleared his throat, but I just turned and tugged at his hand, dragging him with me around the corners to the entrance of my hotel.

I didn't dare to look back, but I could feel his eyes on my neck, shooting tingles up my spine. I didn't stop until we reached the elevator, and I pressed the button while still holding his hand, his thumb brushing mine. We stood staring at the door, and I drew a small sigh of relief when it finally arrived and the doors slid open. I could feel a tremble running through him, and we entered the elevator in unison. The doors slid shut, and finally the tension broke.

I turned around, and suddenly he pulled me into a hard embrace, his breathing ragged, his lips covering mine. My mouth opened, letting him in, tasting him, exploring his mouth, his tongue penetrating and demanding, crashing into mine. I let go of his hand, pressing myself into him, sliding my arms around his back, grinding against the hard ridge in his jeans. The ping announced the end of the journey, and as soon as the doors opened he was walking me blindly backwards, not stopping until we hit the hallway wall. He released my mouth and stood panting leaning his forehead to mine.

"Where?" I pointed in the general direction and rooted through my bag for my key, handing it to him.

"Number 14." He scanned the doors, and grabbed my wrist, making for the right one, and jammed the key in the hole, almost tearing the door off the hinges crashing it open.

He pulled me inside and swung me around, closing the door effectively by pinning me against it. With a loud moan he found my mouth again, and I whimpered into it, threading my fingers through his thick, soft hair, pulling him closer. His hands ran up my thighs, bunching up my dress and enclosed my hips. I winched when the fingers on his left hand dug into me, and he stopped and sprang back, leaving me staring in confusion at the look of utter horror on his face.

"God. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He inhaled loudly, and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry. I should never have... I'm sorry."

I stared at him, clueless. "Bucky. What's wrong?" I took a tentative step towards him, but he backed away, again reminding me of a caged animal. He stepped aside, trying to find a way around me, but the little hall was narrow and I held my ground.

"Bucky. Please. I'm fine. I don't want you to leave."

He stopped and stared at me indecorously. He swallowed, licked his lips, and gave me a timid smile. "You're not scared? Or hurt?"

"No. Not at all. I'm fine." I took another step, closing the gap, my breasts touching his torso.

He shivered slightly and let out a weak laugh. "You're really fine? You want to... continue?" He lifted his right hand, stroking my hair back, exposing my neck.

The gentle touch had me trembling, and I closed my eyes and sighed. "Yes. I'm fine, I'm not scared, and I'd very much like to continue."

He inhaled sharply and puffed up his cheeks, before shaking his head and clearly reaching a decision. "Okay. But we're taking it slow."

I laughed and stepped closer, lifting my mouth and ran my tongue along his lower lip. "Slow it is." My whisper got drowned out by his kiss, gentle and soft, and his right hand pulled me carefully towards him, his left arm hanging limply at his side. I let my hands run up them both, and marvelled at the smooth surface and lack of friction as I drew his sweater up. He froze again, but collected himself and relaxed, lifting it and letting it rest on my waist.

"God. You're so warm and soft." He let out a content sigh and allowed himself to tighten his embrace, rotating his hips and rubbing himself against me. To my pleasure he was still hard, and I responded by reaching up his shoulders, tugging at his shirt.

He broke the kiss and took a small step back, allowing some space, twisting the henley and pulling it over his head, tugging back the tee, covering the flash of rock hard abs. I gasped and could feel my mouth hanging open. He gave me an uncertain, apologetic look.

"Bucky. What is that? Is it a prosthetic? It's beautiful." He stretched out his left arm, flexed it, the small panels and joints rippling, shimmering in the faint light, minute whirs and clicks while gauging my expression and holding his breath.

I exhaled and reached out, tracing my fingers lightly over his underarm and up to the biceps, pressing my palm against the cool surface, pushing up the tee sleeve, covering the red star on his shoulder. The image was tugging at something, a faint memory, but I couldn't place it and shoved it back in my head. I became aware that my jaw was slackening again and shot him a shy smile.

"Sorry. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this." He snorted, finally letting himself breathe. "How does it work?"

He furrowed his brows and flexed the fingers. "Like an arm, I guess. I don't know the mechanics of it, other than it's fused to my shoulder, connected to the central nervous system." He reached over with his right hand, pulling off the glove hiding the silver fingers. He lifted it slowly to my cheek, brushing gently, looking intently at it.

"I obviously can't feel anything." His voice sounded sad, and I put my hand over his, pressing the cool metal against my face, and closed my eyes.

"No, but it feels good." I opened my eyes, smiled at him and his face softened.

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

He brought up his other hand, cupping my face and brushed his lips against mine. My hands found his hips, stroking his smooth, warm skin under the hem of his t-shirt, threading my fingers into his belt loops, pulling him in. He moaned into my mouth and despite previous statements let go, giving in to it. He kissed me deeply, running his fingers up my thighs, catching my dress, and laying his metal hand at the small of my back, rotating his hips. I could feel myself swell, my panties getting soaked, and my breath came out in shallow bursts, egging him on. He ground his pelvis at me and hitched up my left leg by the knee before cupping my ass with hard unyielding fingers, taking care not to apply too much pressure.

I buried my hands in his thick hair, letting him hoist me up and hooked my ankles on the swell of his ass, kicking off my sandals in the process. He leaned back and I lifted my head, looking down at him, his eyes black from lust and lack of light. I could feel the head of his cock straining at the denim through the thin fabric of my panties, and straightening my legs slightly I hit his bare stomach, letting him feel my wetness.

"Oh god." His jaw clenched, the veins on his neck protruding, and his mouth found my chest, and he traced his tongue up my clavicle, neck and jaw, burying his nose in my hair. I crooked my neck and started grasping down his shoulders and back, pulling up the black tee, desperate for more skin contact. My nails grazed his ribs, and he stopped moving. I froze and tried to steady my voice, the frustration reaching unbearable levels.

"What?" The word was a whisper, but he just held me, tightening his grip, still breathing into my hair. "Bucky?" He swallowed hard but still said nothing. "Please. Tell me what's wrong."

He exhaled, a long ragged stream of air, and he relented his hold, starting to slide me down. My heart sank, but I conceded in good grace, even I had limits of how desperate I wanted to appear. When my feet touched the floor, I retreated a couple of feet and braced myself for the inevitable rejection.

"Listen, I—" I stopped dead, the sight of him starting to pull up his shirt totally muting me. He twisted the tee off in a smooth motion and just stood there, watching me watch him. I suddenly became aware of a pain in my lip, I was biting it so hard to stifle a moan.

"Yes. It's not pretty." He continued to keep my gaze, and I suddenly realised he was awaiting my judgement. Again. My mind was racing, what the fuck happened to this guy? My curiosity almost got the better of me, but only almost.

"No. You're right. Pretty doesn't even come close." His eyebrows shot up, and he took in my expression. "Don't you even own a mirror?"

The corner of his mouth started twitching, and he let out a low snort. I held up a finger.

"No, of course you don't. How would you get anything done?" He chuckled softly, shaking his head, but was clearly pleased with my reaction.

I continued my exploration and tried to take him all in. The wide panes of his pecs, the sharp quartering of his abs, the marked v, the soft trail of hair on his chest, narrowing down towards his jeans. He was magnificent. Of course, there was the jagged scarring along the prosthetic, but that was just standing as a sharp compliment to the perfection of the rest of him. I raised my right hand and let a finger trail over the ravaged skin. He shuddered slightly, but seemingly not from disgust.

"You're beautiful."

He laughed again and an unmistakable blush darkened his cheeks, sending renewed waves of heat and wetness down me, and suddenly I couldn't think about anything than feeling his skin against mine. In a sharp twist I pulled my dress over my head, and threw it on the floor, looking up at his widened eyes, a small smile on my lips.

"There. So you don't have to feel uncomfortable." His eyes trailed over me, lingering on my breasts and my hips, and he licked his lips, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"Uncomfortable isn't the word I would use, no." The words were soft and shaky, and he lifted his real hand and ran his index finger along the edge of my bra, his palm stroking my nipple lightly through it. He followed the contours of it and hooked a finger through the strap, pulling it down from my shoulder. I reached back, unhooked it, relaxed my arms, and let the bra slide down. His eyes widened, and he carefully cupped my breast, weighing it in his palm, thumb flicking lightly over the hard nipple and I whimpered, laying my hands on his chest, running my fingers down and resting them on the lining of his jeans. He hesitated, obviously conscious about the direction of my hands, but bent down and took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue twirling and flicking carefully, and encouraged by my reaction sucking slightly before moving to the other.

I was in agony, having not taken the complications into account, I was already on the verge of coming just from pure anticipation. I started working on his belt, and he twisted his back slightly to give me room, allowing me to unbuckle it, and I began opening a button when his hand was between my thighs, his fingers traced the lining on my panties. An involuntary jerk of my hips and I was pressing fully against it, his fingers slipping beyond the edge and dipping into my folds.

"Jesus." He breathed the word, hot air hitting my chest, and moved in closer for a better reach, dragging his lips and tongue up my neck and rested his forehead on my shoulder, his fingers perfectly still. I moaned loudly and inched closer, desperate for friction, yanking at his fly and popped the rest of the buttons. His massive dick was straining against his boxers, and I palmed him, rubbing him gently, eliciting a low growl, and suddenly he was inside me, two fingers twisting around, hitting one sweet spot while his thumb rubbed at the wet fabric covering the other. My knees buckled, and I fell against his hand full weight, metal fingers groping my ass, sliding down my thigh, and hitching my knee up, pinning it at his hip.

He stroked back up, hooking onto the side of my panties, snapping it apart with a mere flick. A small laugh escaped me as I became vaguely aware of the rest of it tumbling down my other leg when the pad of his thumb hit my swollen clit, and I groaned loudly, arching back, helping him deeper, and my arms flung up to his shoulders to keep my balance.

"Oh fuck. Yes." I pressed my lips against his wide grin, breathing heavily into his mouth, whimpering as he rubbed in slow circular motions. "Fuuuuck."

The force of the orgasm had me clinging to him, my hips shooting forward, increasing the pressure as I clenched and pulsated around him, my chest grinding his, my frantic heartbeat and gasping causing another low chuckle.

"Damn." I tried to speak, but my voice wouldn't carry, and he laughed harder. I bit him lightly and dug my nails into his shoulders, feigning offence, before becoming aware of his cock jerking against my stomach, straining against the wet cotton of his boxers. I caught his eyes and slowly slid my hand down, finding the elastic at his hip, and slipped a finger inside.

He stopped dead and held his breath as I moved to the front and deftly pulled it down, freeing him of the constriction. Smirking I held his gaze while I grabbed him at the base, stroking firmly up once, closing my grip at the top, gently squeezing and rubbing his swollen head. He stared at me, his breathing shallow and erratic, and I edged my leg free from his hold, getting my footing back. I winced slightly as his hand slid up from between my legs, the orgasm having left me oversensitive, but kept my attention on him, slipped my other hand under his balls and cupped them gently.

His head flew back, and his whole frame tensed, his hands grabbing my shoulders for support, and watching him I slowly began pumping, revelling in his guttural moans. I sank to one knee, and his eyes widened, watching me as I leaned in and kissed him on the tip, my tongue fluttering and catching the thick fluid. His hands let go of my shoulders, and he kept them hovering over my head, uncertain whether to touch it or not, seemingly afraid to break the spell.

I looked up at him as I opened my mouth and closed my lips around him, marvelling at his expression somewhere between utter disbelief and pure pleasure, and sunk myself into him, taking as much as I could without gagging. I sucked gently, my tongue exploring his ridges and veins, and pumped slowly with my hand, rotating each stroke carefully, falling into a rhythm while he watched. I started tugging at his jeans with my free hand, pulling them down, exposing his ass and massive thighs, taking a firm hold at the back, using it as leverage as I had him carefully fucking my mouth.

He finally gave in and put his hands on my head, his right one threading into my hair, pulling lightly, the left just resting for support as I increased the pace and had him chasing his orgasm. He stopped breathing completely, a massive shiver running through him. His thighs and butt were clenching, steel fingers digging lightly into my skull, working against the relentless tugging at my hair and keeping my head perfectly still, as he controlled his final thrust, his thick cock bulging and twitching in my mouth before he finally fell forward, exhaling in a long uninterrupted groan, his load squirting into my mouth and throat.

"Jesus." The uneven whisper was reverent, and the corners of my mouth twitched as I swallowed and licked him clean, not missing one single drop. He looked at me with something akin to worship, released my head and cupped his hands under my chin, lifting me up and kissed me. "God, you are amazing."

"Really? I'd never would have thought you thought that." His whole frame was vibrating from strain and the low chuckle, and he put his arms around me and sighed my name.

"No, I really kept my cool, didn't I."

"Yes. Impossible to read." I tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and smiled. "To be honest I'm still in the dark as to whether you even liked that."

He prodded my sides and the tickle had me pushing him, and he stumbled back until he hit the edge of the bed, falling onto it, and pulling me down with him. His head fell back, and he closed his eyes, his hands stroking my back and hips.

We lay for a long time, minutes that felt like an infinity, but all good things come to an end. I wanted more, and I elevated myself, supported by an elbow, my leg resting on his far knee, and traced the muscles on his rising and falling chest, studying the perfect sculpting.

"But it's too bad really." His eyes flew open.

"What is?"

I met his gaze, biting my lip. "Well, maybe I should have saved that for something else." I grazed my fingers lightly down his stomach, stopping just above his semi-hard cock, circling the coarse, damp hair. He looked at me before looking down at himself, smirking.

"Yeah. That's too bad." He reached up and took a breast in his hand, teasing the nipple, biting his bottom lip, having me jutting my hips, trying to get some friction from his thigh. "Really too bad. But I can't do anything about that now."

His cock twitched, visibly growing. He flexed his thigh, pressing it against me, making me squirm and smear him with the increasing wetness. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he reached down, palmed my mound and teasing a finger on my clit. "Really, really too bad."

I whimpered into his chest, and suddenly I was on my back, pushed down by his weight, his mouth on mine and two fingers inserted to the knuckle. He pried my knees apart, settling between them, kicking off his boots and jeans, moving his mouth to my neck, grazing and nipping with his teeth. I shuddered, my hips shot up and my legs spread, welcoming his intrusion. His growing confidence taking control he scooted himself downwards, planting kisses and licks, sucking my nipples, his left hand anchoring itself on my waist, until he finally reached his destination, gently prodding my folds apart with his tongue.

"You taste like heaven." I groaned as my eyes rolled back into my skull, the warm air and slow lapping fast building up another orgasm. I twined my fingers into his hair, keeping it out of his way, and the metal hand stroked its way to my inner knee, pushing it out and up, allowing him better access. He had me shivering, making me lightheaded when it felt like all the blood in my body pooled down and gathered where his tongue twirled and pressed at my clit.

He paused and looked up at me, mischief glinting in his eyes, licking his reddened lips and started trailing his left hand along my inner thigh, fingertips feather light and cool against my hot skin.

"Fuck." I rolled my hips in anticipation, watching him place his right hand on my mound, prying my lips apart, making room. "Bucky." I cursed his name under my breath when he entered me carefully, two smooth fingers lubricating while inching in, feeling massive in their alienness, gently twirling around, rubbing upwards until a violent jerk by my pelvis told him he had found the target. He closed his lips around my clit, alternating between sucking and stroking, his stubble chafing slightly, keeping a firm pressure with his fingers until I was panting and begging him to come.

"You wanna come, doll?" The strange endearment in the husky voice was telling me something, but I couldn't string my thoughts together long enough to reflect on what it was.

"Yes. Please. God yes!" I gasped for breath as he sucked hard one last time, and my fingers tangled in his hair as I ground furiously against him, the orgasm rolling over me in waves. He kept up the pressure, his tongue dabbing flat against the throbbing, but relented as he relaxed his hand and let his fingers be expelled by the contractions inside me. He drew a contented breath and kissed my mound, looking pleased with himself.

"Damn. I had almost forgotten how good that felt. You taste fucking fantastic." He elevated himself and crawled up on his arms, the head of his hard length brushing up my leg, and lowered himself carefully on top of me, grinning as he kissed me. "Thank you."

I looked into his eyes, struck by the genuine emotion, again hit by the mystery. "You're welcome. It was a genuine pleasure." The words very barely audible, but he smiled and traced his tongue along my bottom lip before covering my mouth and plunging it in.

The taste of him combined with me was unbelievable, and I met him enthusiastically, wanting nothing more to stay lost in him. My hands stroked down his sides, found his hips, twisted them lightly and jutted my hips to steer him, wanting nothing more than to have him inside me, devouring me, penetrating me. He settled into position, his head bulging against me, when he suddenly deflated and sank down, and started to laugh.

"Fuck." His whole body shook, and I pushed him up by the shoulders, looking at him incredulously, painfully aware of his cock and the incessant throbbing of my pussy. He looked me, groaned, and buried his head in the crook of my neck. "I don't... We can't do this. I don't have anything."

"Anything what?" My mind blanked, and suddenly it dawned on me. Of course he didn't. He wouldn't have. "Oh. Right. That." He sighed heavily.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't think, I never expected... I haven't done this in a really long time." His voice was muffled, but I could hear the pain and exasperation and the humour at the absurdity mixed with self-deprecation.

I thrust myself a little closer, wriggling so that I could feel him straining, and he froze. He raised his head slowly and looked at me, disbelief in his eyes. "That's not helping, you know.”

I grinned. "Get my bag."

He stared at me for a long second and suddenly pushed himself off me with amazing speed, finding my bag underneath his jacket by the door and brought it back to the bed. I smiled, slipped my hand inside the side pocket and extracted a small pack of condoms, handing it to him. His eyebrows shot up as he opened the packet and took one out, shooting me a curious look.

"What? Alone in the big world, remember." He nodded slowly, bit his lip and grinned. "Besides, I used to be a girl scout."

"Yes. I remember. Always prepared, huh. Wise words to live by." He turned the small foil packet around in his hands, examining it with a thoughtful look, keeping shooting glances at me.

My heart sank. "What? You think I'm a slut?"

His eyes widened, and he stepped back, looking horrified. "What? No!" He spluttered. "I think you're fucking amazing." His expression softened, and he leaned down, staring into my eyes. "I think you're the most amazing woman I've ever met." He kissed me, first my lips, then my nose, and erected himself. My heart fluttered frantically, and I blushed, the truth of the statement moving me thoroughly.

"But what then? You don't think it'll fit?" I raised a sardonic eyebrow at him and glanced at the thick throbbing erection, a new surge between my legs. He grinned and a sharp snort escaped him.

"Yes. That was exactly it." His eyes crinkled in amusement, but then his face fell a little, and he sent me an embarrassed smile before sighing. "No. I just... I don't know if I can... I haven't... It was different, they were different..." He drew a long breath and held it, shaking his head.

Mentally storing the rather shocking revelation I got up and stepped up to him, taking the condom. I kissed his chest and closed my hand gently around him, a small ragged breath announcing the humour gone from the situation. I released him long enough to tear the foil, rubbed my thumb over the tip and placed it on, rolling it down with one long stroke. His breath caught, and suddenly I was hoisted up, his arms under mine, his elbows pinning me up, and his hands clamping over my shoulders, my legs flinging around his waist and my ankles hooking behind his back before he turned and in a few long strides had me pressed against the wall.

"Are you sure?" His voice was thick and low, a deep desperate whisper, and my only response was a fervent nod against his open mouth, breath mingling with his. He growled, and the grip around my shoulders tightened as his forward motion spread my legs impossibly further apart and his cock inching into my entrance, filling me up further than I knew was possible. My breath hitched and came out in shallow bursts and his pelvis shot upward for a last thrust, and he leaned his whole weight into me, pinning me against the wall, dragging my shoulders down to plant me firmly at the base of his cock.

"Oh god oh god oh god." He stopped, his head falling heavily into the wall beside my head, and inhaled shakily.

"Is this okay?" I writhed against him, my head pressing back and down and my heels hooked harder under his ass, trying to push him further in, the sensation running a jagged shiver through me.

"Oh god, yes. Please." He shifted his grip on my shoulders, allowing my arms to sling closer around him, my fingers nestling the nape of his neck and twisting his long shaggy hair. "Please, Bucky. Just fuck me."

A deep groan rumbled through his torso, and he pulled out, eliciting another gasp from me before plunging back in, my pussy throbbing madly, feeling like it would burst. His mouth found my bare shoulder, and he opened his lips, his teeth and tongue caressing me as he breathed into it, using it as a muffler for his moans.

"Jesus fuck." I was heaving for air in unison with him as his pace quickened, and his cock was pushing at my walls, stretching me, penetrating me completely with each stroke. My head flew back into the wall, and I tugged at his hair, inviting him up and finding his mouth, sank my tongue in it, crashing against his. I spread my legs even wider, ground my clit against him, sinking down, chasing the orgasm I felt coming.

He erected himself and stopped, looking at me intently, his eyes dark pools in the dim light. I whimpered displeased, but he held me in place and jutted his hips, exerting more pressure and released my shoulders.

"Don't stop." My voice was a pathetic moan, but for the first time he gave me a brilliant smile. He just shifted his grip, placing his soft, right one under my thigh, his long fingers fanning out cradling my ass, and his left, strange shiny one bracing the wall beside my head. He steadied himself and tried to control his breathing before kissing me softly.

"No, I don't ever want to stop." He laughed into my open mouth, his cock flinching further inside me, and I sank back, resting my full weight on him. He hoisted me up to get some space to move and pulled back and started pounding relentlessly, catching my breath, swallowing my short whimpers, penetrating my mouth as he was my pussy.

"Oh god, I'm co-co—" His soft, wet lips stretched into a grin against mine, and he hitched me up an inch, his fingers digging into my ass, and crashed into me with two powerful thrusts, reaching his orgasm on the wave of mine.

I heard a sharp sound like wood splintering, and he wrenched his mouth free, my name masked by groans filling my ear, blood roaring in my head. My whole body was pulsating, quivering and clenching, and his cock throbbed, emptying in bursts.

"Fuck." I half whispered, half spat the word, and he chuckled, the rumble resonating in my chest. I sank down, my whole body feeling like it was dissolving at the joints, and I laid my forehead on the cool metal of his shoulder and buried my hands deep into his hair. "Jesus, Bucky. I'm falling apart at the seams here."

With a snicker he embraced me tighter and carried me over to the bed, laying me down carefully. Stretching his arm for support, he crouched over me for a moment, pulling out before removing the condom and dropping it by the bed. He rolled off me and settled beside me, sliding his right arm under my neck and cradled me, his fingertips brushing my skin absentmindedly. He kissed my hair, and I snuggled closer, my hand on his chest, my knee draped over his thighs. He took my hand with his left and entwined our fingers, twisting it slowly studying the effect, and sighed.

"Thank you." It was just a hoarse whisper, and I burrowed my face into his chest.

"For what?"

"For the best night in..." He hesitated and swallowed. "In a long time." I looked up at him, struck by the vulnerability in his voice. I laid my hand on his cheek and kissed him.

"You're welcome. And likewise." He smiled, and his eyes shone in the faint light from the window.

I turned away, not wanting to reveal the turmoil inside me, realising the magnitude of the situation for him was by far surpassing mine. I moved closer, the small wriggle heightening the dull, sweet ache between my legs, and closed my eyes.

"Are you staying?" He stiffened a short second before pulling me closer.

"Yes. If you want me to."

"I do. I have an early flight though, so you have to get up early." He kissed my hair, appreciative of my light tone, and yanked the blanket loose behind me, throwing it over us both.

"I always get up early. Just sleep. I'll be here." I closed my eyes, letting myself drift off to the regular sound of his heart beating, revelling in his warm scent, wishing the night would last forever.

I was sure he hadn't slept at all when the creak and strain of the bed woke me as he carefully got up. I lay perfectly still, feigning sleep, trying not to let my breathing let him know I was awake. I heard the soft rustling of his clothes as he got dressed and fought the impulse of dwelling on the way he must have looked, his body naked in the soft morning light. I could hear his hand on the door handle when he hesitated. He walked over to me, kissed me softly on the cheek and stroked my hair tenderly before his retreating steps and the click of the door told me he had gone.

I got up, and with one hand groping at the sheets bearing witness of his presence, sat on the edge of the bed, fighting back the tears and cursing myself for not going against my instincts and kissing him goodbye, but knowing full well that would only have made it harder. I shook my head, inhaled deeply, collected myself, and got up and into the bathroom.

After I had showered and packed my small suitcase I scanned the room and did a double take at the mark on the wall. I stepped over and laid my hand in the indentations, pressing my fingertips into the small holes his had made. I let my mind run through all the articles and news clippings I could remember, finally able to recollect what my mind had been nudging at. The Winter Soldier.

I scoffed, brushed my hand along the wall as I hoisted up my bag, grabbed my suitcase and exited the room, walking down the hall, not knowing that in 8 hours a bomb would go off in Vienna.

#a bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #yeah i figure unnamed it could be anyone #when in romania #wir #yeah #might as well #i think this is gonna be a thing so #why wait #fan fiction #lisa's scribbles

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6wound-blog · 7 years ago

Text

16.oaspeţii

　不吉なインターホンの音がした。

「なんだ。こんな朝早くに」「アマゾンじゃねーの？　アンタのサプリメントとか」「いや、特になにも頼んでないぞ。　オマエこそ新しいマンガとか、頼んでるんじゃないのか」「それはない。最近、新刊出てねえし」

　アイリが作ってくれたブロッコリーとパプリカ、それからベーコンのサラダを食い終わったおれは、トーストにバターを塗ったくってた手を止めた。　ちらりとテレビの時計を見ると、七時五十分。インターホンが鳴ったときは瞬時にアマゾンの配達を、それもしょっちゅうアイリにハンコをあずけて受け取りを頼んでるユダの荷物の到着を疑ったけど、この時間はまだ配達時間外のはずだ。　だったら、誰かお客さんか？　そう思い直すけど、こんな朝早くから尋ねてくるような非常識な知り合いはいない。　いや、いる。一人だけ、いるわ。

「アイリちゃん」

　おれは腰をあげようとしてるアイリの肩をつかんで、半ば強引にそれを止めた。　声もかけず触ったせいでアイリは一瞬怯えたけど、自分の肩に手を乗せてるのがおれだと知るとホッとひとつ息を吐いた。ビックリさせてゴメン。おれは小さく呟いた。

「キミは座ってて。オニーチャンが出ます」

　じりじりとにじり寄ってくるのは、嫌な予感。　インターホンが鳴った瞬間から感じてた、不吉な予感。その予感は間違いなくこの朝の平和な時間をブチ壊す。それが現実になれば、おれとユダとアイリ、三人が仲良く朝飯を食ってるこの幸せな時間が即座に終わる。おれにはわかった。　そんな重く、ドロリとした予感を振り払うように頭を振って、バターのついた指を舐めながら立ち上がる。ユダが千葉の牧場から取り寄せてるこのバターはめちゃくちゃうまくて、いつもだったらこれを塗ったパンを食ってる途中に席を立つなんてことは絶対にしない。でもいまだけは、特別だ。　さっきから言うように、これはただの予感じゃない。ただの嫌な予感とも違う。

「……」

　おれはオートロックのモニターに向かって歩き出す前に、そっとユダの顔を見た。　ユダはいつも通り牛乳をかけたシリアルにスプーンを突っこんだまま、おれを見上げてる。ほとんど手をつけてないフルーツジュースのボトルを脇へ押しやって、それからそのスペースに頬杖をついたユダは、うっすらと笑った。　でもその笑みもすぐにたち消える。ユダの顔に不安が広がる。どうやらインターホンの音は、ユダにも不吉に聞こえたみたいだ。

「……ジーザス」

　モニターに映し出された男を見たとたん、おれは無意識に頭を抱えてこう呟いてた。　肌色のドアップ。それがゆっくり引かれると、空色の瞳とぶつかった。とは言っても向こうからはこちらの様子が見えないから、目が合ったって思ったのは単なる、おれの妄想なんだけどね。

「お兄ちゃん、どうしたの？　出ないの？」「え、あ」

　いつまで経ってもモニターのボタンが押される音が聞こえないことを不思議に思ったアイリが、おれに質問する。　その声がいつもより少しだけ慎重だ。なにを隠そう二十年間、一日もサボることなくおれの妹をやってきてくれたアイリはきっと、おれの戸惑いに気づいてるはずだ。しかもアイリは目が見えない。目が見えない人全部がそうだって言いきる自信はないけどさ、目が見えないだいたいの人は相手の声の揺らぎに敏感だ。そしてきっとアイリも、その「だいたい」のなかに入ってる。　その証拠に煮え切らない、曖昧な返事ばっかりしてるおれを心配したらしく、アイリはテーブルを伝ってモニターのところまでやってきた。そして、そっとおれの腕をつかむ。

「お兄ちゃん、私が出ようか？」

　おれを気づかうアイリの言葉は、また押されたインターホンの音にかき消されてしまう。　まったく、ほんとに優しい子だね、キミは。そう思うと突然、おれは泣きたくなった。　なんだかなあ。昨日からおれ、ちょっとおかしい。ルイセン？　がめちゃくちゃゆるくて、すぐに涙が出そうになる。これはひょっとすると、昨日したばかりの失恋のせいかもしれないね。そんなことを考えながら、おれはユダに視線を向ける。　それからまた、悲しくなった。

　ユダは目が見える。　両目1.5。たしか前にそう言って自慢してたことがある。でも、あのときユダは、視力の話についてけなくてふてくされたアイリに「でも、そういう人は老眼になるのが早いんだって」と言われて黙りこんでた。　でも、老眼になるのが早かろうと遅かろうと、ユダはいま、目が見える。そして、インターホンのモニターは、ユダが座ってる席の真正面にある。　それはつまり、なにが言いたいのかっつーと。

「大丈夫だよ。アイリちゃん。ありがとね」

　ユダは誰がインターホンを押してるのか、知ってんのよね。　あそこからだったらぜったい、見えてるはずだ。あそこに何度も座ったことがあって、ユダと同じく両目1.5の視力を持つおれにはわかる。やれやれまったく、わかるどころの騒ぎじゃない。　あそこから見ると、配達にきたのがヤマトだか佐川だか、それとも郵便局だか、そんなところまでわかっちゃうのよね。

　こんな朝早く家を訪ねてきて、しつこくインターホンを鳴らしてるのが誰なのか、ユダはちゃんとわかってる。　わかってるからこそ、あんな目でおれを見てる。あんなってのはおれを責めるみたいなヒナンしてるみたいな、そんな目だ。　シリアルと牛乳が入ったガラスの器を抱えて、そこにスプーンを突っこんだまま、おれを見上げてるユダ。相変わらず不安げな目をしてるユダにおれは、なにも言ってやれなかった。

「いま、降りるから。そこにいて」

　通話ボタンを押して、短くこう告げる。　するとモニターの向こうにいる男は荒い画質のなかでもわかるぐらい嬉しそうに、顔をくしゃっと丸めて笑って、言った。

　『Bunã ziua』

「あ、そっか」

　サンダルないんだった。　玄関までやってきたおれは昨晩の、ユダの赤いゲロまみれになったビルケンのサンダルのことを思い出す。そして、一人で笑った。　とにかくアレはもう、ゴミ箱行きだ。しつこいようだけど気に入ってたから、正直かなり名残惜しい。ま、ユダのことだから新しいヤツ、買ってきてくれると思うけどね。　だからおれはその代わりに、ほとんどがユダの靴で埋まってる靴箱のなかからナイキの黒いサンダルを取り出して、それを履いた。久しぶりに履いたナイキは案外足になじんで、履き心地がよかった。

「レイ」

　名前を呼ばれたのは、玄関のドアに手をかけた瞬間だった。　おれはドアノブから放した手を短パンのポケットに突っこむと、くるりと後ろを振り返る。そこには火の点いてないキャスターマイルドをくわえたユダが、まっすぐにおれを見つめながら立ってた。　スッピンに部屋着。ほとんどない眉毛と襟がでろでろに伸びたシャツ。そこからのぞく白い肩。　ったくなんてカッコしてんのよ。いつもおれには風呂あがりにパンツで歩くなとか、ズボンのケツが破けそうだよか、うるさく言うくせにしてさ。ユダのカッコのあまりの無防備さに、おれは苦笑い。ついでにため息まで飛び出した。

「……今夜はどこか、出かけるのか」

　さすがに丸出しの肩が気になったみたいで、ユダは襟を引っぱりながらこう言った。

「いや、特に予定ないかな。最近顔出してない店舗回って、リース先の業者勝手に変えてないかどうかとか……見にいこっかなって思ってるくらい」「そうか。それはまた明日にしろ」「うん？」「アイリの体調が良かったら、今日こそ三人で飯を食いに行��う」

　まったく予想外の申し出を聞いたおれは、驚いてユダを見つめる。　そんなおれの反応を見て、ユダは明らかに居心地が悪そうだった。タバコをくわえたまま壁に寄りかかって、それに火を点ける様子もなく、天井を見上げたり履いてるスリッパをパタパタと遊ばせたりしてる。　いや、三人で出かけられんのはそりゃ嬉しいけど、なんでまた急に？　いままでこんなこと一度もなかった。あのクソ忙しいユダが二日間も連続でおれとアイリを外食に連れ出してくれるなんてこと、一度も。　嫌なわけじゃない。そんなわけない。ただ、不思議だった。不思議すぎて心配になって、黙りこんでた。

「お兄ちゃん」

　するとそんなおれたちを助ける声が廊下の奥、リビングのほうから響いた。

「私がユダに頼んだの。お夕飯作るの面倒だから、どこか連れていってって」「え、あ……そうなの？」「そう。焼き肉がいいなァ。私」「あーいいね、お肉。オニーチャンも食べたいです」「ねえユダ、前に連れていってくれたあの焼肉屋さん……行きたいな」「ああ、用賀の『らぼうふ』だろう」「そうそう！　ね、そこにしよう」

　なんだ、それならそうと、最初っから言えばいいだろ。　おれは「そういうことだ」とでも言いたげな表情で腕組みをしてるユダに向かって、呆れた笑いを向ける。どうやらユダはその意味がわからないらしく、眉を寄せて首をかしげた。

「わかった。じゃあ、今夜は焼き肉な」「今日は普通の格好でいいぞ。臭いがつくしな」「わーってるよ、っていうか昨日のスーツ、クリーニング出さなきゃだし。アンタのせいで」「ん？　アッハハ、そうか。そりゃ悪かったな」「ったく……」

　ちっとも悪かったなんて思ってなさそうなユダ。　そんなユダの口元では、小さな黒いダイヤが光ってる。しかもいまのユダは化粧をしてないから、それがなおさら目立ってた。　おれはまたすぐに目を奪われた。昨日はユダのアレに触って、いっぱいキスして。二人で湯船のなかでじゃれ合って、ホント、マジで幸せでした。　でもそれももう、できないんだ。ユダにはフラレた。もうやめてくれって、キョゼツされた。だからおれはもう、ユダを抱きしめたりキスしたり、アソコをしごいてイカせてやったり、できない。しちゃいけないんだ。　これは自分で決めたことだし、ユダが望んでることだ。だからおれは、これをしっかり守ってかなきゃいけない。んだけど。

「じゃあいってくる。すぐ戻るから」

　そう言ったおれはユダの腕を引いて、タバコを口唇から抜き取ると、そのままそこにキスをした。

「もうこれで、さいご」「っ……」「ホントに終わりにする。だから、一回だけ」

　抱き寄せたユダの肩が震えてる。　嫌な思い、させてんのかな。そう思うと悲しくなったけど、おれはキスするのをやめなかった。どうしてもキスしたかった。オージョーギワ、悪いのよねおれ。

「ゴメン。もっかい」

　ボサボサのユダの頭を抱いて、深��口唇を合わせる。　玄関の、少し段差になっている上にユダが立っているせいで、おれはちょっとだけ背伸びをしなくちゃいけなかった。ホントはおれのほうが高いのにね、背。

「ん、っ」

　ゆっくり舌をなかに入れても、ユダは拒まなかった。　それを知ったおれの胸は、切なく縮む。縮んだあとに高鳴って、爆発しそうになる。　二人の舌が絡まって、クチャ、と濡れた音が玄関に響いた。ユダと自分のヨダレが混ざって鳴ってるその音をおれは、ココロの底から好きだと、愛しいと感じた。

「レ、イ」

　待って、そんなふうに名前を呼ばれると、涙ぐんだ目で見つめられると、やめたくなくなっちゃうんだけど？　口唇を離すのがいやだ。死ぬほど名残惜しい。でも、やめなきゃ。やめなきゃいけない。自分の気持ちにケジメをつけるためにも、やめなくちゃ。

「じゃっ」

　長いキスがようやく終わる。　やっとの思いでユダを突き放したおれは、わざと素早く、ユダに背中を向ける。なんで？　ってそんなの、決まってる。ユダの顔見たらまた、キスしたくなる。だからわざと、見ないようにした。　本音を言うと終わらせたくなかった。ずっとああしてたかった。でももう、行かなくちゃ。　ユダから奪い取ったキャスターマイルドをくわえると、おれはドアを肩で押し開けた。とたんにおれを包むのは夏の、ムシムシした空気。

「……ありがと。ユダ」

　ユダがずっとくわえてたキャスターマイルドのフィルターは冷たく、湿ってた。　おれはポケットにライターが入ってることを確認すると、それを取り出して素早く火を点けた。するとすぐにふんわり、白い煙がたつ。

「はやく帰ってこいよ」

　ドアが閉まる寸前、耳に届いたユダの声。　おれはそれに力強くうなずいて、ユダと、バニラの香りのする煙を思いっきり肺に送りこんだ。甘い。そう思った。

「レイ」

　マンションのエントランス。　自動ドアを抜けて姿を現したおれを見るなり、姐さんは突撃してきた。うわ、あっぶね、燃えるっつーの。慌てたおれはくわえてたキャスターマイルドを指にはさんで、高く持ち上げる。

「こんなとこじゃナンだから、ちょっと出よう」「ああ。わかった」

　おれにぴったりと身体をくっつけた姐さんは、少しだけ高い位置にあるおれの顔を撫でながら、にっと笑う。　おれはこの笑い方が好きだった。自信満々で、挑発的で。自分以外の人間全員をバカにしたようなこの、笑い方。おれはこれを見るとなぜか安心した。　きっと、その、誰かに似てるんだ。おれがよーく知ってる、誰かに。

「どこでする？」

　こう耳元でささやきながら、おれの脚の間に太ももを挿しこんでくる姐さんの行動にはさすがのおれも少々、ビビった。　いやいやここどこだと思ってんのよ。しかも、防犯カメラついてるし。このマンション。それにいつ、アイリはないにしてもユダや、顔見知りのお隣さんかなんかが出てくるかわからない。

「オイオイ、朝��ぱらからかよ」「そんなの関係ないだろう。いつも、朝だって昼だってヤリたがるのはレイ……オマエだ」「ン、まあ、そうだけど。あのね、今日はしないよ」

　きょとんと目を丸くする姐さんを、おれはそっと引きはがす。　視線を合わせた姐さんは不安と不満、それが半分ずつ混ざり合ったような顔つきでおれを見てた。いつ見てもキレイだなって、その透明さに一度は見とれちゃいそうになる青い目。それに睨みつけられると思わず一瞬ひるむけど、おれは姐さんの頭を撫でて、おでことおでこをくっつけて、立ち向かうことにした。

「行くよ」

　ムスッとふてくされてる姐さんの手をにぎり、エントランスを飛び出した。　外はえらく暑い。七月の太陽が暑く、ジリジリとおれたち二人を焼く。それなのににぎった姐さんの手はとても、冷たかった。

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