Captain America

[karazrel]

[insp]

[howlingsniper]

❝In these dreams it’s always you: the boy in the sweatshirt, the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me from jumping off the bridge.❞ (nomadicpatriot)

@nomadicpatriot

Their dreams carried a clarity border lining on cruel. For Bucky, his nights remained laced with fragments of imagined and real memories. The languages that H.Y.D.R.A programmed into him, and the ones he learned out on the Brooklyn streets. They overlaid against his terrified screams when H.Y.D.R.A forced him into the chair and made electricity crackled down his spine for missing his shot. A little girl had reminded him of the soft, sleepy whispers of his sister’s voices. The fact these contradictions all existed in one man to drive him to near insanity. He couldn’t even place what acts he should shame himself for committing. 

What about knowing with certainty your perceived failures? One of his hands rested against cold, clammy skin in the hopes that it’d drag back Steve back to the hear and now. 

“The falling didn’t hurt too much,” Bucky murmured, stroking metal fingers through the soft, golden hair. “I doubt there’s a world where that scenario plays out differently…” 

 “ s’ not your fault.”

[nomadicpatriot]

But it was his fault. The good captain had lived much longer than he ever had a right to; his mind never let him forget the mountain of failures he collected over the years. What he regretted more than anything else was that day on the train. Even during his waking hours, there were times when he would hear the whistle of a train, the rumble of wheels against the tracks, and the cold would settle into his fingers and crawl up his arm. He felt that now even with sweat pouring down his bare back and the window unit humming as it blew cool air into the warm apartment.

“I should have jumped after you,” His voice rose barely above a whisper. The guilt weighed too heavy upon his shoulders for him to meet the others gaze, so instead, he stared at the fingers of his right hand. A tingling chill passed through his palm, up his elbow, and to his shoulder. “I should have come looking....”

Steve hated the idea of inevitability. If there were other worlds, surely there was one where he caught Bucky in time. In this world, he pulled Barnes to his chest and took him into the train. They would have escaped the plane and after being rescued, would have lived their lives together. In darker worlds they fell together, but at least Bucky didn't have to face the dark alone. “I'm sorry...”

[nomadicpatriot]

howlingsniper‌:

His lips felt right again his own and Bucky missed his taste even when he remained close. It wasn’t enough to share air when he could have the rest of him. He leaned in to steal a deeper kiss from Steve’s mouth, a mixture of tongue and teeth that told of his desperation. The spike in his pulse spoke to the humanity he didn’t think he had left. 

 After they broke apart, as he rested his forehead against the other’s own, he murmured, “It’s Lensherr. Erik Lensherr. The government wants Magneto dead.” He glanced back at the files on the bed for a moment before focusing in on the green flecks of Steve’s eyes. They were beautiful in unity with the blue that circled them. 

 “My guess is they plan to heighten anti-mutant sentiments by having America’s finest die by his hands. I used to be—I am James Buchannan Barnes,” Bucky continued, relishing in the other man’s body for a few minutes longer before his confession settled into Steve’s bones.

What better way to control a symbol than to take away the pieces that made them human? “There’s someone trying to hunt you, too. They’ll not let you come with me easily.” 

He did not want the kiss to end. The sensation of the other's tongue running along the backs of his teeth and the scrape of teeth against his lips  sent sparks of electricity up and down his spine. His own heartbeat quickened to match the pace of Bucky's, but his fingers, which began questing beneath the edges of Bucky's shirt halted at the curve of his hips. The name of Bucky's target brought with it a cold reality that reduced the glowing embers of heat to a choking smoke.

A lump formed in his throat, and he closed his eyes. Slipping from beneath the soldier's shirt, Steve's hand moved to travel along Bucky's metallic wrist. “Lensherr,” He repeated. Images of Bucky's arm being crushed and twisted and torn from him with the ease of an irate child tearing a limb from a toy marched through his mind. “We will have to approach this very carefully. We can't just drop into Genosha unannounced, we'll start a war.”

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to Bucky's forehead before stepping away. “I'd like to see them try to stop me.”

[nomadicpatriot]

Wardrobe change.

[nomadicpatriot]

@howlingsniper

It felt good to shed the formal attire. Trousers were replaced with dark denim, shined shoes with scuffed boots, and the suit jacket with a distressed black jacket left open to allow the loose t-shirt to show its red, white, and blue shield.  The  mead had softened some of the night's harder edges, and Steve looked forward to the less formal atmosphere of an after party. Dragging fingers through his hair, his blue eyes found Bucky. “You still owe me a dance.”

[nomadicpatriot]

howlingsniper‌:

He saw the exhaustion in his partner’s eyes and vowed to have him relax. It would be no easy feat, but the Winter Soldier remained a man of impossibilities. “Maybe next time,” Bucky agreed evenly, tugging at Steve’s hand. The couches remained sinfully comfortable and the tables were ladened with food and drink.

Stark, in his infinite wisdom, assured that all his rooms were stocked to the brim. He knew how to be an excellent host when he put his mind to it. The problem was that the other guests didn’t have Iron Man’s highly specific skill set.

Youths preferred to burn everything down if they remained left unchecked for too long. Kids, these days. While wonderfully brilliant, they could be complete idiots. “Let’s get some mead in you, Steve. It might quiet the buzz of ‘Old Town Road’ that Peter has apparently decided needed to be the theme song for the night.”

During the quiet seconds between Bucky taking his hand and leading him toward the embrace of the soft couch cushions, Steve wondered when things had changed so much. He could remember their roles reversed: Bucky drooping over his smaller frame, weary and maybe a little drunk, after a night of clubs and dates and Steve bearing him up as best he could, leading him somewhere safe to rest. 

Steve didn't know how he felt about this change, but he did know nothing would remove him from Bucky's side for the rest of the evening's festivities.

“Is that the song about the horse?” Steve asked, casting one glance toward the corridor stretching behind them. “Is he really singing about riding a horse down an old road?” Steve was certain that the lyrics carried some modern slang he was not privy to or a secondary meaning.

[nomadicpatriot]

Anxious doodles found on Roger’s discarded napkin!

[nomadicpatriot]

Spotted, Steve Rogers!

[howlingsniper]

@nomadicpatriot | sis gala 2k19 plotted

There were dozens of rooms a person could hide in when came it to the Avenger’s Tower. As a precaution, Steve and Bucky had designated one to meet at for when Captain America finished his press rounds. If they lived different lives, Bucky might’ve been with him during this period. The fact he was a controversial figure as the Winter Soldier prompted him to make himself scarce from the public eye. It was nice he didn’t have that responsibility.

The problem, however, was that Steve did. “How was schmoozing because fighting was fun…” Bucky greeted, sipping at the Asgardian-spiked punch in his cup. He settled the drink down to stand and interlock their fingers together before pressing a brief kiss to his lips. “It’s too bad you missed most of it, though…”  

[nomadicpatriot]

From the moment they stepped from the car, Steve could feel eyes and cameras on him. The crowds seemed to form a vice, pressing in from either side with their flashing cameras and voices calling out his name. He was reminded, suddenly, of the red soaked vision Maximoff had given him. Once through this first gauntlet, Bucky released him with a kiss and they parted ways. Bucky's fingers slipping free of his own felt like coming unmoored, drifting through a vast ocean with no star to guide you home. He performed his song and dance, feeling much like the 'Star Spangled Man with thePlan' he had been back in the old days.

When he finally managed to slip away, he tugged anxiously at the tie about his neck. “Terrible. I would have preferred a good fight.” He took Bucky's hands and closed his eyes at the brush of their lips. “I'm sorry. I'm all yours for the rest of the night.”

[nomadicpatriot]

howlingsniper‌:

A sick part of him thought he wanted this outcome to occur. If Bucky kept smart about Steve, he’d recognize the blonde never let someone leave. When he became attached, he stayed for life. What the former assassin couldn’t account for was this Steve to recognize this him.  

The Winter Soldier, after decades passed between them, became a man unworthy of chasing for long. At some point, Captain America’s sentiment for his former lover would run dry. There was little left of the former Barnes’s charm in someone so hollow. The sweet pet names didn’t matter if war and survival corrupted all the humanity underneath.

He stopped being a good soldier the minute he became a liability. This desperate attempt to make up the difference was nothing more than a selfish action. Someday, Bucky will learn to let him go permanently. It was a weakness when his knees near buckled at the brush of skin upon skin. A dependency on how instinctive it was to turn and drag him in close.

Those five years left him frantic to prove that the weight of Steve’s shield wouldn’t crush him. He didn’t know how much it burned someone with ice in their veins. “Hold on,” he commanded breathlessly, wrapping his entire body around a bird-like form. “I’m sorry, babydoll.”

The young Steve Rogers felt his heart jump behind the cage of his ribs the moment the older man dragged him against his chest. With an ear forced to the smooth surface of the strange uniform, he fancied he could hear the other's heartbeat, but more likely it was the sound of his own blood rushing to color his cheeks and the nape of his neck. Peering up through thin lashes, he found himself so lost in this Bucky's eyes that he barely heard the command and the apology. Instead, it was just that beautiful name on those full lips and the impossible warmth of the strong arms crushing him.

It was hard to focus. “W-what?” The word tumbled clumsily from his parted lips just in time for the world to be sucked out from beneath his feet. He was falling- they were falling, but he could not decide whether they were going up or down. Everything was a blur of motion and hues of black and grey and white and strange, sickly greens that smeared together like watercolors or chalk in the rain. His fingers fought for purchase on the slick suit. “Bucky, what's happening?” The question took the last of the breath from his lungs, and suddenly he could not breathe.

The movement stopped as abruptly as it started, and Steve found himself standing in the midst of something which looked very much like one of the alien contraptions from Bucky's books and comics. His stomach felt as if it had been lost somewhere in the strange tunnel they had passed through, and his small frame could not stop trembling. Hands sliding down the front of Bucky's suit, his knees gave out just as he tilted back his head to stare up at all the reflective discs that hung above them. For the first time, it occurred to him that this could be some sort of alien abduction or maybe he had passed out at the fair. It could all be some elaborate fever dream.

Gasping, he slumped into Bucky's arms. “Wh-what... where...?”

[nomadicpatriot]

howlingsniper‌:

@nomadicpatriot continued from [x] 

The older man had a near heart attack. He hated hearing the ease with which Steve ignored his pain. Bucky expected this from his lover, but he wanted to remain cautious. They didn’t need to push when they could afford to waste a few moments. He removed his hand to study the blood on his fingers with nervous interest. 

After a moment’s pause, Bucky glanced up to meet the other’s gaze. “The fact that you’re in pain doesn’t matter.” While that truth remained a fact for Captain America, this aspect didn’t imply to the man under the mask. The sergeant cared too much it hurt, yet he knew that knowledge wouldn’t be what would get Steve to stop.  “Five minutes,” Bucky countered, gaze flickering to the Commandos. “We shouldn’t leave a blood trail for H.Y.D.R.A to find, which leads into camp…” 

 "It’s a liability.“

Steve felt a small flush creeping up the back of his neck; the shame hit him like a blow to the gut, a sensation with which he was all too familiar. He, too, cast a glance at the Commandos, hoping that they had not heard his part of the exchange. Of course it was not about his comfort or lack thereof. He should have been more observant. Clearing his throat, he brushed gloved fingers against the bridge of his nose and nodded once. “Right.” His voice was subdued. An apology hung on the edge of his lips, but he swallowed it back.

“Doc' said my body'll patch itself up quicker than it used to, so the bleeding should stop soon.” He said, forcing a sheepish smile.  “We should start looking for shelter. The day is getting away from us and it's only going to get colder tonight.”

[nomadicpatriot]

howlingsniper‌:

When the snap occurred, the Winter Soldier spent five years alone to fill the gap of the world after humanity kept losing. He never moved on, but the former assassin attempted to protect the people Captain America held dear. Honestly, he couldn’t hide any longer when the responsibility became clear every time he looked for his friends’ shadows. Shuri. Sam. Steve. The reminder of their passing near stopped his heart for a second time.

The beat in his chest didn’t come alive until a little ant whispered a sweet serenade in his ear. Scott’s words sounded like a soldier’s death march to a normal man, yet he didn’t mind putting his life on the line again. Bucky was never one to walk away from uneven odds, even if they hurt like nothing else.

While he didn’t carry all the details in his memory, the Stark Expo seemed to remain a pivotal point for both super-soldiers. He didn’t remember to breathe as he studied those light eyelashes, elegant mouth, and spitfire blue eyes with a too gentle expression. Reaching out, he ached to stroke his fingers against soft skin. His reverie broke the moment he realized that this Steve didn’t recognize him.  “My gosh, Babydoll, I almost forgot how small you were back in the day,” Bucky replied softly, instinctively taking a step away after realizing his mistake.

“I need to leave… Thank you.”

Steve  found himself held captive by the man's steel-gray eyes, which seemed so familiar. He felt warmth blossoming in his cheeks at the intensity of the other's scrutiny, and he offered a tiny, shy smile. A smile that faded into a look of surprise and confusion when the other man's hand began to pass through the space separating them. He could almost feel the ghostly brush of the man's fingertips against his cheek before he pulled his hand away and stepped back. “Sir, are you---” Words died on his tongue and a breath caught in his lungs.

“What.... did you call me?” No one else in the entirety of the city referred to him as 'babydoll.' No one except... But it could not possibly be. His eyes slowly drifted to peer around the stranger's arm toward the crowd. He could just make out the top of Bucky's uniform cap and the set of his shoulders.  The same posture as the man before him-- only this man's shoulders slumped ever-so-slightly, almost as if he carried the weight of the world upon them.

His heart began to flutter. The jaw was the same, the eyes, the mouth.... “Bucky...?” The word was quiet, almost drowned out by the sound of the revelry around them. His own hand reached for the other man's wrist.

 “Is that you?”

[nomadicpatriot]

howlingsniper‌:

@nomadicpatriot continued from [x]

His heart contained peace from doing a task right. A promise Barnes made over seventy years ago in a sweltering apartment where they did their best to stay cool with popsicles and determination. If he held the strength to remember the smaller details, the next step was the power to see their aim to the end. Even if they didn’t prefer attention in their situation, they liked playing the game. The ease that came from being someone else. It was helpful that this restaurant mixed science with cuisine, a fascination they kept even after H.Y.D.R.A put him on ice.

For such a moment, this night needed looseness in movement and mouth. His dark hair slicked back with pomade and his black suit stressed the strong line of his shoulders. A cocky grin on his handsome features that looked right on the man in the museum who stood by Captain America’s side. His lips came to steal a quick kiss from the other’s cheek. “Both our tours in the military will pay for this place multiple times over,” Winter replied, placing an absent-minded hand upon Steve’s shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about it.” He spoke those words like a command. 

“Just enjoy the ride…”

The kiss silenced Steve more than the words of reassurance. His mind spun with the attempt of trying to come to terms with the idea that they had gone from barely scraping by to dropping several months worth of wages on one dinner. Feeling the weight of Winter's hand against his shoulder, he snapped himself from his thoughts and looked up to meet the other's stormy grey eyes. So much had changed in the years they were apart. There was a calculating ease to the casual posture and the cocky grin that was so very different from the swaggering confidence of before the war. Still, no matter what name he took now and the way his eyes had gone so dark, he was still Bucky.

He was still Bucky, and Steve couldn't understand why he felt schoolboy nerves creeping into his stomach. “You said the same thing when we went on the Cyclone at Coney Island,” He said finally. “My head was spinning for hours after...” Due to the ride, of course, and not the way Bucky's hands had clutched his and the carefree laugh that had him throwing back his head, hair whipping in the wind, and the gentle flush of the sun on his cheeks. Steve felt heat creeping up the back of his neck and a pain in his chest. 

“What sort of food do they serve here?”

[nomadicpatriot]

Tucked away in a less populated section of the World's Fair, there stood a recruitment office with a glass enclosed poster of a soldier with no face. Steve watched as men and women stepped on the pressured platform in front of the poster and their faces appeared in the empty space. He waited, hands thrust deep into his pockets, until the giggling girls and their dates had drifted away before stepping forward. His head did not even reach the top of the pictured collar, and he gave a sigh before stepping back and away.

The night slipped by like sand through his fingers. It was Bucky's last night, and he would have much preferred spending it together in their little apartment, but he couldn't deny Bucky's request of going to see all of the new technology. Not to mention, friends of theirs needed chaperons for their date. As the two girls ran off together hand in hand and Bucky followed behind with that smile on his face that made Steve's knees weak, Steve lingered behind them, feeling adrift. His eyes were scanning the crowd without really seeing it, and he might have missed the strange man entirely if he hadn't run directly into him.

“Sorry... I wasn't watching where I was going, I--” He paused, brows furrowing and lips pursing at the sight of the man's strange suit, which seemed to shimmer and fade away before his eyes. Blinking, he gave a shake of his head and took a step back, tilting his head to look up into the man's face. 

“That was a swell trick.... my friend would like that get up of yours... he loves science fiction things like that.”

[nomadicpatriot]

howlingsniper‌:

@nomadicpatriot continued from [x]

He wasn’t worth Steven Grant Roger’s life. The Winter Soldier meant that loyalty for all iterations of the Sentinel of Liberty. Whether they took the name of Captain America or Nomad, in every version of James Barnes, there was a need to protect him. His issue remained the blond never wanted to wait. It could be as simple as staying on the sidelines when Bucky started a fight after some idiot insulted a girl in the dance halls or as difficult as working on the home front when he got drafted.

Bucky swallowed in another breath. He held a strong desire to see that exact blue, despite the fact that those eyelids had fluttered shut. If he explained his truth, the words would involve how the softness of that color brought him out from H.Y.D.R.A’s programming.

They refused to give him any time to recover his memories, but Steve was the one he killed to witness again. It was the second remembrance he ever had after the warmth of his sisters’ smiles. “It’s official,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “The fact you chose me back was the worst decision of your existence, Rogers.” His smile turned slow, languid as he stalked towards the other man. He cupped Steve’s face between his fingers and to stroke the line of his cheekbone.

“Don’t you know you can do better than a ghost?”

Even after all of the years since putting pencil to paper, Steve still watched the soldier's approach with an artist's eye. He appreciated the lines of graceful motion with every step, the way his lips slowly coiled up into a smile, the spark that struck behind his eyes, and the way the ends of his dark hair brushed his shoulders. He felt his heartbeat quicken as his gaze drank in every inch of the other man in the same way a man lost in the desert might drink from an oasis. Every good memory he had, Bucky had been there, and his greatest sorrows were when Bucky had drifted out of sight.

He craved him, felt him even in his absence like a phantom limb, and he found that he could barely keep himself from closing the short distance between them and gathering the other man up into his arms. Instead, he let his muscles uncoil and relaxed into Bucky's soft touch. The brush across his cheekbone filled him with warmth; he could not hold back any longer.

Leaning forward, he pressed their lips together and hungrily caught the other's lower lip between his teeth. 

Giving a light tug, he released and murmured. “You seem very alive to me, Bucky.”

[nomadicpatriot]

Sharing a meal.

Even after seventy years, his feet still did not reach the floor, and after several moments of stretching and scooting to the edge of the stool, he gave up on trying to find a comfortable way to touch his toes to the tiled surface and propped his feet instead on the circle of metal surrounding the stool's legs. Looking across the shining bar, he caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the mirror backsplash above the stoves and straightened as much as his spine would allow. His hair was trimmed and smoothed back so that not a strand was out of place and the shoulders of the suit almost made him look lean rather than skin and bones.He worked the end of his tie between his fingers, worrying the silk fabric. The chefs were already moving about the intimate kitchen behind the bar, and the other patrons were settling into their stools, dissolving into low, polite conversation. His blue eyes shifted to take in the Winter Soldier. His fingers itched to capture the slant of his jaw, the peaks and valleys of his scarred knuckles, and the snow storm grey of his eyes. Swallowing, Steve inclined his head toward him, feeling his heartbeat quickening beneath his suit. “Isn't this place expensive, Buck?”

[howlingsniper]

“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?” (nomadicpatriot)

@nomadicpatriot | can’t be bothered to find meme 

Those words rammed into him like a fist to the chest. It didn’t matter if Captain America delivered the statement with pride or as a matter-of-fact. In the snow, blood stained the whiteness with clarity border lining on pain. He was proud of how much Steve grew, but he never could stand his willingness to sacrifice.  The thought of never seeing that exact shade of baby blue near stopped his heart. 

“Don’t care, pal,” Bucky replied blandly, giving Steve a brusque pat down. His gloved fingers worked against wear his torn uniform to feel for broken skin. “You still do the same damn thing where you pretend you’re alright. If I need to drag you back to camp because of an injury, I swear to the Lord I’ll kick your ass.”

[nomadicpatriot]

Captain America stared down at the stain spreading across his abdomen with a sort of detached interest. It had never occurred to him that this new body was still made of flesh that could tear and blood that could be spilt. Before the serum, he was used to the steady thrum of pain through his body, and he had not noticed the blossoming of discomfort until one of the other soldiers had pointed out the blood trail in his wake. The uncomfortable feeling-- he could hardly call this pain after the years of real pain he had endured-- was made all the more strange when the tips of Bucky's fingers sank into his skin and brushed against blood and muscle.

He squirmed and tried to bat his hand away. “But I am alright. It doesn't even hurt.” Adjusting the shield on his back, he reached to pat Bucky's shoulder awkwardly. In mixed company, he could not be sure how much affection was too much.

 “Let's keep moving... “