Dec 27, 2014
"Yes, yes—I need to borrow your gun."
"Should I be worried?"
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"Yes, yes—I need to borrow your gun."
"Should I be worried?"
"Well I was gonna go with breakfast in bed, but since you're up--want pancakes?"
Barnes can’t help it— he laughs. (Considering it was that, or draw on the small animal chittering away near Jack’s ear, it was probably the best option overall.) How did this become his life? He dutifully steps into the room and shuts the door behind himself, just in case the little thing has a tendency to run.
It seems pretty preoccupied with Jack, though, and that suits Bucky just fine.
"I’m not asking. I don’t want to know." Only he did- just where the hell did he start?
Today had been going so well.
The monkey chatters happily from Jack’s shoulder, and the former pirate sighs and mutters about how the little critter had better behave and be more like his namesake.
Just the thought of Hector roiling in his grave makes him shiver with anticipation.
"Good. Now my only problem is finding peanuts in your hair. I’ve run out.”
❖ (Late but IDC)
13. My muse with a pet.
Jack looks up guiltily when the door opens. But the monkey is stubbornly checking his hair for peanuts—honestly, one find does not make him the ultimate treasure map for those bloody dry fruits—, and is apparently refusing to cooperate.
So, as he sits on the floor with a monkey on his shoulder, Jack offers a sheepish grin and raises his eyebrows.
"——…He followed me home?"
"Emergency drink. Pronto. Now. Get up.”
"There's something wrong with you." He clears his throat. "I'm up. Get out so I can get dressed."
[Break into room meme symbol?]
1. My muse lying bleeding on the floor
So he’d maybe not expected a visit anytime soon. Or ever.
Since they’d stopped being much more than an old fling, more friends than lovers as they’d once been, it falls more on Jack to visit than the other way around anymore. Add Tony’s two new roommates, and that’s likely two more reasons why the visits stopped.
There’s also the fact that he travels a lot more, these days, but well. Needless to say, he’d come to stop expecting any visitors in his old little house by the sea.
In fact, just to be sure no one knew he was here, Jack made certain to climb in through his bedroom window, muffling pained grunts and wheezing breaths as best he could as he pulled the glass panel open and clambered in.
His balance is still not the best—or maybe it’s the blood loss—, but the point is he’s not his usual graceful self as he makes it into the room…or rather tumbles to the floor on his side with a pained groan.
Jack’s hand is still pressed to the stubbornly bleeding hole between his ribs, and he’s just about trying to decide whether he should just let himself die and wake back up or get up and try to get the bullet out, when the door opens.
Bleary dark eyes find a pair of expensive shoes, and he doesn’t really need to look up to know who’s standing there.
"Well—…this is awkward."
whatthebucky replied to your post:You're so in love with Bucky, it's obvious.
That doesn’t sound like a no, Jack.
Maybe it isn't.
"Just stating the obvious."
"Really? Is that all there's to it?"
