Snow & Fire (Buck Cleven x reader)
Summary: What began as admiring the first snowfall turns into something much more as Buck joins her outside, threatening to melt the surrounding snow with the growing heat between them.
a/n: reader is female and from Georgia, USA. those are the only defining factors.
This was inspired by the prompt 'snowfall' for @creators-club 24 Days of Christmas Writing Challenge.
Warnings: none really, couple swear words and mild spicy
Words: 2500
Even through the despair and suffering, through the biting cold and the empty stomach, she was helpless but to stare in wonder.
While everyone else hid away inside the mediocre warmth provided by their bunkhouse inside Stalag Luft III, she sat on the step outside. It was dangerous and foolish. It was asking for trouble. Nazi soldiers patrolled the compound, guns and dogs by their side, itching for a fight to break up the monotony of the days. The temperature dropped as winter descended and with the Red Cross packages delayed in getting to the prisoners of war, or confiscated by the Germans, winter clothing was lacking amongst the prisoners. All excellent reasons for her to remain in the bunkhouse with the airmen. Safety. Warmth. Survival.
Yet she stayed on that step, staring up at the gloomy, gray sky, the sun hidden by thick clouds, unable to drag herself away.
The snowfall was beautiful.
Little, delicate snowflakes drifted down to the ground like glistening sugar or feathers from angel's wings. So slowly they fell, as if gravity held no meaning. A graceful dance to the hard, cold ground.
What surprised her the most was how silent it was. An almost sacred hush hung over the compound as the snow fell, as if this was a holy occurrence. Perhaps it was in a way. For as time passed, those delicate snowflakes, easily melted if caught on a finger or tongue, gathered on the ground and buildings. What used to be a compacted, dirt ground transformed into a gleaming field of white. The dull buildings glistened with the coating of snow on them, giving them a cheer never meant for them. Even the trees surrounding the compound, sentries guarding the otherside of the fence, appeared less menacing. Those that lost their leaves within the past months now appeared less like skeletons standing watch over those who dared to oppose the Third Reich. The evergreens seemed to embrace the snow, just missing the candles and bobbles to create a holiday cheer. Something certainly lacking in the Stalag Luft.
Unaware of the eyes watching her, she held her hand out, marveling as the snowflakes fell on her skin. The pinprick of iciness was no longer noticeable with how cold her hands were.
“What're you doing out here?”
That smooth, gravelly voice was easily recognizable, particularly from those in the 101st Bomb Group. Tipping her head to the side, she could see the man standing in the doorway. “Afternoon, Major.”
Buck Cleven hesitated for a moment before stepping outside and closed the door behind him. To her surprise, he sat down on the step next to her, their thighs almost touching due to the short width of their perch. His sharp gaze scanned the area around them, eyes lingering on the security tower with its Nazi occupants as he adjusted his signature blue scarf around his neck.
“It's not safe for you to be out here alone.”
“Yeah…I know.” She could feel his gaze, feel the unasked question. Needing to occupy her hands suddenly, she tugged her coat closer around her body. The coat was about two sizes too big for her, meant for a man and not a female navigator. She was lucky to have it.
She was even more lucky to have miraculously earned the friendship of Buck Cleven. When others argued and fought that a female navigator was an abomination, he stood resolutely by her side. That simple act was enough for many of the airmen at Thorpe Abbotts to eat their words. They may have grumbled amongst one another but as time passed and she showed her exceptional capabilities as a navigator, those remarks lessened. Another element that cemented their friendship was their sobriety amd thus their shared trials of corralling their other friends after a night of drinking.
Never would she breathe a word of the crush she had developed as time passed. It was almost impossible not to fall for him, with his dashing good looks, charming and kind personality and his aura that seemed to draw people in. She was helpless against it, yet that truth never dared touch her lips.
“I've never seen snow before.” She murmured, breaking the silence.
“Really?” He asked in response to her quiet admission.
She hummed, sticking her tongue out to catch a snowflake on it.
“How have you never seen snow?”
“I grew up in Georgia on the coast. I've lived through hurricanes and blisterin’ summer heat…” she shrugged, “but it's never snowed.”
“Huh. I guess I didn't think about that.”
“Well, not all of us can grow up with snow capped mountains in our backyard.” She teased.
He huffed a laugh and knocked his shoulder into hers.
“It's beautiful though. Like… I don't know…. Reminds me of that powdered sugar my Ma’d use to make frostin’ for Christmas cookies.”
He hummed in agreement. “I can see that…guess I never thought of it that way. It's always just been snow to me, even as a kid. Always cold and wet.”
“That's a shame. I'd have loved to build a snowman as a kid.”
“I did once…behind a bar.” He hesitantly said, as if dragging the words from the depths of his memories, his blue eyes clouded with the dark memory. “My father lost his bet. He came out mad…and drunk. He kicked it over and said I was too old to make childish things like that.”
“I'm sorry. That's…” Words failed her, unable to decide on a word strong enough to show how terrible his experience sounded. Her heart broke for a young Gale, his innocent joy destroyed by the anger of a parent. Silently, she reached over and squeezed his hand, hoping he understood what her voice failed to convey.
“Christ, your hand is freezing.” He quietly scolded. Immediately, he folded his hand over hers and reached for the other one in her lap. With both of her hands clasped between his larger hands, he tried to rub heat back into them. “You'll likely lose fingers if we don't warm you up.”
“Sorry.”
“You need to take care of yourself. We'll see about finding some gloves for you. I will ask around.”
“That's not–you don't need to do that.”
“We can't have you losing your fingers. I heard they are vital for our navigators.”
She snickered. “Yes, sir.”
A small, intimate smile blossomed on his face as he brought her hands to his mouth and began to blow warm air on them.
As his breath touched her skin, sparks zipped up her arms to her heart, making it flutter and dance like a startled bird caught in a cage. A near silent gasp slipped from her lips at the sensation. She stared wide-eyed at him, spellbound by the man next to her. Even if she had any inkling of pulling away, she would have been unable to with the sheer intensity of his blue eyes, pinning her in place even more than his hands around hers.
It was overwhelming and thrilling.
What possessed her next, she would never know. Perhaps the cold had addled her brain or it was his intense gaze, making her feel like they were the only two people in the world, that made her lose her inhibitions. Perhaps it was the sparks dancing along her nerves endings, making her want to draw closer, to give into the sensation completely. For she allowed her finger to reach out and gingerly trace his bottom lip.
She remembered how some of the women back at Thorpe Abbotts would gossip and guess about what kissing Major Buck Cleven would be like, since he was quite chaste with his attention even though he was single. He was friendly enough with the women but never sought certain…affections, like others did.
Although now, she could rationally say that even slightly chapped, his bottom lip was still pillowy soft and probably would be spectacular to kiss. Even the new scars on his cheeks only enhanced his features, appearing like lines on a runway, directing towards his plush lips that were begging to be worshipped.
He stilled at her movement, neither pulling away or drawing closer. Yet with that single action, the air surrounding them shifted, like a heavy fog curled around them. His eyes…their intensity doubled. His gaze transformed to heavy-lidded and piercing in the blink of an eye.
Feeling emboldened, her thumb slowly traced his upper lip. His eyelids fluttered shut as her thumb moved to trace the seam of his lips. She could feel his shaky exhale, feel the faint tremble in his hands under her touch.
Thinking she had taken it too far, she gently started to tug her hands back but his grip only tightened, refusing her escape. Instead, his eyes snapped open, a heated gleam in his gaze, a naked want unmasked as he stared unabashed at her.
Eyes pinning her in place, he kissed the finger still in place to caress his lips, then slid down her knuckles. Somehow the simple action, those gentle kisses held an edge of indecency to them, of temptation, that stole the very air from her lungs and made her core clench.
“Buck?” She breathed out, unsure what she was actually asking for, just needing to say his name, to somehow ground herself instead of floating away in the heady moment.
With a faint groan, he turned her hands over and placed a tender kiss on each of her palms, making the skin tingle. As if that was not enough, as if each touch of his lips to her skin loosened what chains of propriety held him back, he surrendered, diving in for more. Those perfect lips followed a trail from the palm of left hand down to the inside of her wrist, pushing back the edge of her coat with his nose. At its destination, he placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss there, branding her with his lips.
Her breath hitched in her throat, liquid fire pouring into her veins with each press of his lips to her sensitive skin. Unable to move away, unwilling to remove her gaze from this fantasy before her. Even with the thin winter coat covering her, she felt laid bare before him.
Without pause, his mouth moved to her right palm, repeating the action. Those delectable lips caressing her skin to press an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of her wrist.
“Buck.” This time his name came out in a needy whine. A desperation for him. An exquisite need for more. For him to quiet the burning fire he began or allow it to build until it consumed them both. She wanted to taste his lips, to feel them pressed against hers and become drunk on him alone.
Yet somehow the utterance of his name broke the spell surrounding them.
A sudden tension caused his body to stiffen before he slowly sat up ramrod straight. His beautiful eyes focused on her hands clasped between his but now on his thigh instead of against his mouth, where she would much rather them to be.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…” He softly spoke, his voice almost hoarse like it pained him to speak.
“S'alright, I–” she gulped audibly, throat dry and mind reeling from the desire still causing her body to ache for him, “I didn't mind.”
“We're too exposed out here. Anyone could walk by and see.”
“Oh…right.”
“Not that I don't…” He paused, as if reevaluating his words. “When I kiss you for the first time, I'd rather it not be somewhere where a Nazi could walk up and interrupt.”
She slowly blinked, his statement bouncing around within her head. “When?”
“Yeah, when. I've been thinking about it for some time now.”
“Oh, ah, yeah…that's…probably a good idea. I'd be upset if we were interrupted.”
He smiled with such sweet adoration yet laced through with undeniable hunger, it threatened whatever was left of her resolve to melt away like snow.
They sat outside together for several more minutes, stealing shy and longing glances at each other and holding hands. The heady fog lifted from around them, allowing her to breathe again and not feel like her heart was beating out of her chest. An air of anticipation replaced it, planting a sense of yearning that bound them. An almost tangible desire for a shared kiss. To cement whatever this was between them, this newfound fire they both wished to drink from.
Delicate snowflakes continued to drift down around them, causing the Stalag Luft to look like a snow globe.
“Hey, what are you two dodos doing out in this damn cold?” Major Bucky Egan asked, leaning against the doorframe behind them.
“Aren't you from Wisconsin?” Buck teased, glancing back at his best friend.
“Yeah, and it's damn cold. Why aren't ya inside?”
“Just watching the snowfall.”
“Uh huh, is holding hands helping you see the snow better?”
She felt a flush heat her cheeks at Egan's comment, but spoke up, hoping it would distract the other major. “D’ya think there'll be enough snow to make a snowman tomorrow?”
“Uh…” Bucky squinted up at the gray sky. “I guess if it keeps falling at this rate. Are you planning on making one?”
“I've never made one before.”
“So a prisoner camp is the best choice?”
She shrugged, undeterred, especially when Buck squeezed her hands in his.
“Well, if you don't want frostbite, I'd say you two should come inside, crazy idiots.” Bucky murmured the last two words. He rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, staring at the two before stepping back inside the bunkhouse.
In silent agreement, Buck and her stood up to return inside, but not before he stole a quick kiss to the inside of her right wrist once again, making her insides turn to jello. He held the door open for her, allowing her to retreat from the cold, then followed her into the long hallway which divided the many rooms overcrowded with bunk beds for the downed airmen.
With the click of the door closing behind them, she reached out and snatched his hand before he could move away. Tangling her fingers with his, her heart hammered in her chest as she whispered her request.
“Want to help me build a snowman tomorrow?”
“Sure.” He replied without hesitation, a beaming smile on his lips and delight in his eyes. “It's a date.”
With a cheeky wink and squeeze of their fingers, he slipped into his room, which was closest to the door.
Attempting to smother the silly smile she could feel on her face, she took a deep breath and walked past Buck's room, only to lose the battle against her smile as she overheard Bucky giving him shit about being outside in the cold and asking if Buck was finally admitting to his pining for her and if that was why they were holding hands.
With a heat warming her inside and out, she walked further along to the room she shared with the surviving men from her plane. She could not wait to play in the snow tomorrow for their date…and perhaps she could orchestrate something for that desired kiss. Neither snow nor Nazis were going to keep her from kissing Buck Cleven if she could help it.
