freewilling: (10)
Sgt Bucky Barnes ([personal profile] freewilling) wrote2018-10-17 09:58 am

OPEN RP



 ✓ anything you can make make sense ✓ strangers welcome!
1943: (→ i've seen more places)

[personal profile] 1943 2018-10-27 08:50 am (UTC)(link)
[ Of course Bucky would say that, see it like that. Family. They’re — Steve knows what Bucky means, he feels it in himself too, that unspoken forever closeness, but at the end of the day, they’re not family family, and Steve’s always going to be hesitant and careful. Always mindful of not wearing out his welcome. God knows the rest of their mutual acquaintances don’t see it the same way as Bucky and his folks do, whether it’s the Barnes’ friends and relatives, or Steve and Bucky’s teachers back in the day.

What's a nice boy like James doing, hanging ‘round that Rogers kid?

A surprised, sharp huff of amusement escapes Steve at Bucky’s words. It feels like a reminder from a lifetime ago. ]
You’re not wrong.

[ His voice is clearer, less of a rasp even if it’s still dry. The Barnes’ have seen Steve in far worse condition, as chagrining that is for him to think of. And hell, but Steve’s so damn tired of pushing Bucky away. He’s exhausted to his bones as it is, but keeping Bucky at length is harder on him than drawing away from anyone else could ever be. Steve’s used to being tired all the time, used to throwing himself at metaphorical brick walls, but this battle is different because despite everything, there’s a small, vital part of him that refuses to fight.

Steve inhales through his nose slowly, lets it out just as slow, feeling himself relent. ]
But I — I don’t think I’m in much shape to. Talk much, at the table. They won’t mind, right? [ This is Steve quietly requesting, without actually saying it out loud, that Bucky whisk him away after dinner. ]
1943: (→ i'm gonna be here)

[personal profile] 1943 2019-01-20 08:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ The bright smile on Bucky’s face — the sincerity behind it, the obvious relief — sends another thin stab of guilt through Steve. He’s known that Bucky must’ve been worrying about him, but knowing is one thing and seeing is another. The visible proof of it hurts, even through the fog of apathy surrounding him; he’s not worth this. All he’s doing is dragging Bucky down with him.

Least you can do is smile back, Rogers.

He manages one as Bucky helps him up, thinks about saying something like Yeah, she takes after her big brother, as an attempt at levity, but decides against it. Bucky deserves better than a half-hearted joke. ]


Thank you.

[ Quiet but earnest, as Bucky claps him on the shoulder, letting his own grip on him loosen and gently fall away as they both straighten. There’s a fleeting twinge inside Steve, a soft voice inside him protesting that loss of contact, sounding much like the little boy he was when Bucky first walked into his life, bringing warmth with him. Steve ignores it, lets it smother into silence as they exit the alleyway without further preamble.

The rest of the walk passes by in a blur, Steve’s gaze trained on his feet, and it feels like it’s only been a few minutes before they’re approaching the Barnes residence. The sight of Bucky’s home rings a dusty bell in the back of Steve’s mind, and he slows to a stop, tugging at Bucky’s shirt sleeve. ]


Bucky, wait, gimme a — I gotta ...

[ Just because the Barneses have seen him worse doesn’t mean he should just waltz in there like this, and Steve’s vaguely annoyed at himself for forgetting his manners. He’s always tried to look his best in front of Bucky’s family, occasional accidents aside, and they haven’t seen him in weeks. Shame prickles down Steve’s spine as he pulls out a comb and tries to fix his hair, roughly tugging through the strands. ]
1943: (→ steady as a hammer)

[personal profile] 1943 2019-01-21 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ Steve's distracted enough to miss the set of Bucky’s shoulders going momentarily stiff, but the laugh he catches loud and clear. It gets an involuntary little grin out of him, guessing what Bucky thinks about Steve’s insistence to be presentable for his family. Bucky's a brother to him, thicker than blood, and he knows his Ma felt the same — loved him as her own. But it’s a formality ingrained in him since childhood, when he went to Bucky’s place for the first time, dressed in his Sunday clothes and on his best behaviour, simultaneously terrified and determined.

As it is, Steve’s grateful for the extra help — no mirrors nearby — and while Bucky fixes the fit his coat, he runs a tongue over his busted lip, tasting copper and hoping he’s got the last of it. Or at least as much as he can get off without water, anyway. He finishes off by sucking at his teeth and swallowing, since there’s nowhere to spit, and then meets Bucky’s eyes with his own.

There isn’t much of a light in them, but Steve’s trying. Knows he has to get through at least dinner and pretend to be a real boy throughout, instead of the marionette he feels like these days, and he can only hope that it isn’t obvious to anyone but Bucky. ]


Gotta give 'em something to muss, then. Make it worth Becca’s while.

[ That’s a good start, at least. He brushes off his shirt and adjusts his suspenders one last time before nodding at Bucky. There’s still a residual unsteadiness in his limbs, and the pain in both his stomach and his head is a continuous throb, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. ]