Did I spend my night working on bachelor parties??
Yes.
Yes, I did.
You guys know my writing is chaos, so like even tho the bachelorette/bachelor parties won't show up for like at least five more chapters, that's where my attention was drawn last night lol
That's actually one of the reasons that posting as I write is really challenging for me, cuz I don't write in order, like from start to finish. I write random scenes whenever they come to me and then I just piece them all together.
Anyways, Bruce and Bucky play a game of red light, green light at the bachelor party👀👀
.....
"You ever play red light, green light when you were younger?"
Bucky nodded, confused.
"Course."
Bruce hummed, his hand trailing up Bucky's thigh and brushing over the thick line in his jeans. Bucky's eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he stifled a groan.
"What— Are you for real, right now?"
Bruce chuckled.
"Let's call it a test run, lemme take you for a drive and see how well your brakes work."
Bucky cursed, his hips jerking up into Bruce's touch.
"You gonna ride me?"
Bruce snorted.
"You wish. No, I'm just gonna play a little game. I figure if you can control yourself when you're drunk, then I won't have to worry about it when you're sober."
Bucky's eyes snapped to him and then darted away. There was actually some logic in that.
"Yeah, okay, let's play."
.....
Guys, you have no idea how much I'm enjoying writing ace characters rn!
Like with Tony in Little Stories who probably falls somewhere between sex positive and demisexual depending on the situation, and Bruce in Tempting who is probably closer to sex neutral. It's just really fun to explore their sexualities and play around with it.
I feel like most of the ace characters in fics are sex repulsed and while that's totally valid, it's not something I personally relate to. I also think it's just really cool to have variety. So there's that lol
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Bruce Banner/James "Bucky" Barnes
Characters: Bruce Banner, James "Bucky" Barnes, Hulk (Marvel), Shuri (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Hurt Bucky Barnes, Trauma, Running Away, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Mutual Pining, Protectiveness, Healing, Not Canon Compliant, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bruce Banner Feels, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bonding, POV Alternating, Bathing/Washing, Facial Shaving, Haircuts, Sharing a Bed, Fluff, First Kiss
Summary:
Just as he had done every night for the last four months, Bruce dreamed of Bucky.
Bruce wasn’t angry; he was so incredibly sorry that he could hardly breathe with it.
I finished it! Woohoo (moves from WIP folder with glee)
Hope you have enjoyed my side trip into rare pair land. If you’d rather read a Stucky fic, try this one: Winds of Change (Bucky recovers… and runs into Steve in the last place he thought he’d find Avengers).
Even if this pairing isn’t your cup of tea, please reblog - maybe it will find its way to the small group of fans who want to read anything with Bucky in it (um, yeah, that would include me!) (And this has a sweet letter to Steve at the end…)
Chapter Four (read from the beginning here)
Thankfully Sam and Natasha inform them that night that they’re taking off on another mission, and so Bucky doesn’t have to face Natasha’s know it all gloating. He’s glad she was right about how Bruce feels about him, but he doesn’t need her to know it quite so soon.
For the next few days, Bucky feels like he’s in a dream, or a rom-com montage. Their daily routine doesn’t change much, but now when Bucky finishes his morning workout and finds Bruce for lunch, he’s greeted with a warm embrace. It’s amazing how it changes Bucky’s mood, knowing that Bruce welcomes his touch, whether it be a hand on his cheek as they kiss, or an arm around his waist as they walk down the street. They sit together on the couch to watch movies at night, Bruce massaging Bucky’s back, or cuddled up with Bucky’s head on Bruce’s chest, bare feet tangled together.
At night they still go to their respective bedrooms, usually after a make-out session that lasts just long enough to keep them both wanting more. And oh, how Bucky wants… he’s dying to get his hands all over Bruce and tease that shy smile off his face. But for now, this is perfect.
The one morning Bucky comes out into their living area and finds Bruce perched on the edge of the couch, clearly waiting for him. By the look on his face, he isn’t there to suggest a flirty coffee date.
"Dr. Mubaru called,“ Bruce says. "He wanted to know why you haven’t returned his messages.”
Bucky stiffens. "What did you tell him?“
"I told him he’d have to ask you."
"Oh.” Bucky tries to make himself relax. He has been avoiding Dr. Mubaru, no question, but he had hoped to continue avoiding him for the foreseeable future. And the last thing he wants to do is talk to Bruce about it.
Bruce stands and rubs the back of his neck. "I’m sorry. It’s, um, a little awkward, him calling me as your doctor when we’re…“
"It’s fine.” It’s not. It’s weird, but he still doesn’t want to talk about it. Bucky searches for the right words to get him out of this, but all he comes up with is a lame “I’m late for P.T.” He tries not to see the hurt on Bruce’s face as he books it out the door.
Needless to say, P.T. is less than productive. Bucky goes at it too hard, pulls a muscle in his side, and his therapist ends their session early, frowning and sending him to take a hot bath. Bucky pouts all the way back to his room, where he promptly throws himself face down on the bed and pouts some more. After a few minutes he gets tired of smelling his own sweat and gets up to shower, but he can’t unscrew the cap of his new bottle of shampoo with one hand. Turns out slamming it into the side of the shower head doesn’t work so well, either.
Twenty minutes later, he’s dripping on the floor of their little kitchen, glaring at the coffee machine with his towel around his waist, when Bruce comes in. Bucky immediately hustles back into his bedroom, muttering something about needing to get dressed. He takes as long as he can reasonably spend finding a clean tank and wrestling on some jeans, then pads back out into the living room to face the music, feeling lousy.
Bruce is at the kitchen table, two cups of black coffee in front of him. His hair is disheveled, like he’s been running his fingers through it. Bucky grimaces and sits down next to him. This isn’t going to get any easier.
“You know why Dr. Mubaru wants to talk to me,” Bucky says. It’s not really a question.
“I assume it has to do with your arm.” Bruce is calmer than he has any right to be, and it makes Bucky wince. It’s not great when you feel like you have the emotional capacity of a toddler compared to the man you’re crushing on.
“Look, I’m really sorry about before,” Bucky says, although he can hear that his tone isn’t quite sincere.
“Obviously this is a source of anxiety for you.”
No shit. "Could you maybe act a little less like my doctor, here?“
"How would you like me to act? Like the guy who you stormed out on this morning?” Bruce’s voice is still calm, and it’s pissing Bucky off.
“Maybe that would be a little more honest, yeah.”
“If you’re waiting for me to get angry, to justify getting angry back and shutting me out, it’s not going to happen.” Bruce puts a spoonful of some natural sweetener that Bucky has discovered doesn’t taste at all like sugar in his coffee and stirs it. "I can’t get angry. And I certainly am not going to get angry at you for acting less than politely when challenged about a stressful situation. But it would be nice if you could remember that I’m on your side, here.“
Bucky simultaneously feels like he wants to throw a chair through the window and like he’s about to cry. He turns to Bruce, ready to toss a snappy retort back at him, when something in Bruce’s face shifts. Before he knows it, Bruce’s arms are around him, holding him close.
It takes Bucky a minute to get with the program, but then he sags against Bruce, breathing in the scent of his herbal shampoo as he presses his face into his neck. "I’m really sorry,” Bucky mumbles. "I’m a fucking idiot.“
"You’re not an idiot,” Bruce says, rubbing a hand in circles on Bucky’s back. "It’s okay.“
"It’s not,” Bucky protests. He squeezes his eyes tight, and feels his chest hitch. He wishes he could wrap <i>two</i> arms around Bruce, and the thought just pushes him closer to the edge.
Bruce threads his fingers through Bucky’s wet hair and doesn’t say anything about how Bucky is struggling not to cry, which Bucky appreciates almost as much as the way Bruce holds him so gently, like he’s something precious rather than a moody former assassin lacking any purpose in life.
“Want to watch a movie?”
Bucky blinks up at Bruce, realizing that he no longer feels like bawling, and that they have apparently been clutching each other at the kitchen table for ten minutes or so. Not surprisingly, his pulled muscle still hurts.
“A movie?”
“Sure.”
It’s not even lunchtime.“ Bucky realizes the inanity of this argument as the words leave his mouth, but he figures Bruce will get it. They usually don’t watch tv in the middle of the day - in fact, Bucky should really be heading to the gym about now.
“That’s okay.”
"You don’t want to talk about…?” Bucky asks, shrugging his metal shoulder.
“If you want,” Bruce says noncommittally. "Or, movie first, discussion about significant trauma later.“
Bucky snorts out a bitter laugh. "I’ll snap out of it. It’s not that big a deal.”
Bruce looks at him like he wants to wrap Bucky up in a blanket and keep him there all day, which, come to think of it, is kind of what he has just suggested. “What?”
“Bucky, don’t ever let anyone tell you that. Including yourself. It is a big deal.”
For a moment it feels like Bruce is staring straight into his battered soul, and Bucky wants to duck and hide. Because having to make a choice about what to do with his missing metal arm has him paralyzed. When he thinks about it, his brain spins in circles.
Why should he get a new arm? Is it really necessary? As Bucky is now, as he’s been since he came out of cryo, he’s still an enhanced warrior. His skills are undeniable. And it much as it sucks, not having two arms, he wonders if maybe it’s his due. If he doesn’t deserve a replacement for the arm that made him into a deadly weapon, especially not the powerful vibranium model Dr. Mubaru has engineered for him.
He can’t imagine why the world would want to give him back such a weapon.
Bucky shakes his head and focuses on Bruce, who is still gazing at him with concern. “Yeah. Whatever.” He stands up and inclines his head towards the living area. “You’re right. A movie sounds good.”
Bruce nods and holds out his hand. Bucky lets Bruce lead him over to the couch and pick out a movie, not trusting himself to say anything more. After a few minutes he lies down with his head on Bruce’s lap. Bruce pulls a blanket over them both and combs his fingers through Bucky’s hair. It’s incredibly soothing. Bucky closes his eyes, focuses on the feeling of safety and comfort, the warmth of Bruce’s leg under his cheek, and falls asleep.
Later, after dinner, in the middle of a conversation about whether to walk down to the new shaved ice place Sam told them about, Bucky suddenly can’t keep it inside any more.
"I don’t know if I want it.”
Bruce doesn’t ask what he’s talking about, just takes his hand and threads their fingers together.
"I don’t know if I <i>should</i> have it,” Bucky goes on, his voice trembling.
Bruce looks at him with sad understanding. "You’re not obligated to.“ He puts a hand on Bucky’s metal shoulder, follows it down to the temporary cap. "You can stay just the way you are. But don’t say no just to punish yourself.”
“Without the arm… it’s safer.”
“Your arm isn’t responsible for those killings. Neither are you.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Bruce looks at him steadily, and for a moment Bucky wonders if the Hulk is in there too, weighing in on the question.
“Are we still talking about you?” Bruce asks.
Yup, the Hulk’s in there.
“Is it the same thing, though, you and me?” Bucky asks. "‘Cause I don’t think it is. I’ve got a choice, now. Shouldn’t I use it? Shouldn’t I choose not to have a weaponized prosthetic.“
"I don’t think they built lasers or anything into it,” Bruce says, with a touch of humor, before his voice takes a more serious tone. "The arm isn’t the weapon, and you know that. And… no, you and I aren’t the same. Not exactly. I can’t choose not to have the other guy be a part of me. I tried, and it didn’t work. But I can choose to do everything I can to control what he does. I can choose to stay home, when battles are being fought. Or I can join in. Those are the kind of choices that matter. And you can make them now, however you want. Having the new arm or not isn’t going to change that.“
Bucky shakes his head. “So you’re saying I’m always going to be the Winter Soldier, no matter what I do?”
Bruce looks pained. “No, Bucky. You’re not the Winter Soldier at all. That wasn’t you.”
Bucky taps his metal shoulder. “Evidence says otherwise.”
“You can get rid of it all, you know.”
“What do you mean?” Bucky feels a tremor run through him.
“The metal. I studied your scans, came up with a plan, before you woke up. There’s enough of your body left under the shoulder casing, if you wanted to remove all the metal plating. It would require several surgeries, some skin grafts… probably result in some weakening of the area, at least at first. There’d still be significant scarring, but you should retain function, and the muscles can be strengthened with rehab, although not necessarily up to your former strength. We could actually do better if I got Dr. Cho involved – she could likely rebuild some of the lost skin and tissue and heal some of the scars, but I didn’t want to contact her without your permission.”
Bucky clutches his metal shoulder, flexes his muscles underneath. Thinks about how it would feel to have skin there, on his chest, too, instead of cold metal. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I gave my results to Dr. Mubaru. I figured he’d tell you when you talked to him about your options.” Bruce huffs out a laugh. “I didn’t realize you were avoiding him.”
“Bruce.” Bucky stands up and paces around the kitchen. “Shit.”
“You don’t have to decide now, Buck.”
“I know, but…” Bucky takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, running his fingers over the metal on his chest. “I didn’t think… I could be normal, again. Less of a monster, or a robot. Less of what Hydra made me.”
Bruce comes over to Bucky and puts his hands on his shoulders. Bucky stills, thinking about the different way Bruce’s hands feel, on his skin and on the metal.
“You’re perfect the way you are,” Bruce says softly. “This-“ Bruce places his palm over the metal on Bucky’s chest, slides his fingers under his tank to touch the edges of it where his skin is thickly scarred, “this doesn’t mean anything. It’s just surface. It doesn’t change you. And you, Bucky… you are strong, and brave, and altogether the most amazing person I know.”
Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed.
“But if you want to be rid of this, just say the word. I’ll help you. Or – if you want the new arm, I’ll be there for that, too. Whatever you choose, I’ll be there.”
“Will you come with me to see the doctor tomorrow? I think he’s been looking for me.”
Bruce smiles. “Sure, I’ll come with you.”
Bucky leans his forehead against Bruce’s, and Bruce’s arms go around his back. He feels Bruce’s breath puffing against his skin, and shuffles closer, his hand coming up to cup the back of Bruce’s neck. Bruce tilts his head and brings their lips together, softly at first, then with more intent.
They kiss for what seems like forever, Bucky getting more and more worked up. He runs his hand down the front of Bruce’s chest, around to his back, and then slides it up under his shirt. Bruce is doing the same to him, and soon both of them are twisting and pulling off their shirts, then pressing back together, skin on skin – and metal on skin, but Bucky even doesn’t care at this point. Bruce clearly doesn’t, and Bucky just wants Bruce close any way he can get him.
Bruce finally pulls back, breathing hard. “Bedroom?”
Bucky grabs his arm and they practically run into Bucky’s room, slamming the door behind them. Bruce climbs up on the bed and pulls Bucky after him, and they land in a pile, arms and legs tangled together.
Bruce squirms away from Bucky for a moment with a laugh, taking his glasses off and placing them more or less carefully on the night table. Bucky crawls over Bruce while he’s turned away, kissing up his back and nipping at his shoulder. The position puts Bucky’s hardening cock almost directly over Bruce’s ass, and Bruce rocks up into him, the pressure making Bucky gasp.
Bruce flips on to his back, and the look of pure delight on his face floods Bucky with happiness. “You’re fucking amazing,” Bucky murmurs, peppering his face with kisses.
“What’d I do?” Bruce slides a hand down to Bucky’s ass and tugs him closer, letting Bucky know he’s not the only one fully committed to this particular activity.
Bucky gets his hand into the waistband of Bruce’s drawstring pants and tugs. “Off?” Bruce raises his hips and lets Bucky do the honors, Bucky grinning as he brings Bruce’s boxers off with them. He kneels on the bed for a moment by Bruce’s feet, enjoying the view.
Bruce squirms a little, shy all of a sudden, and Bucky doesn’t waste any time taking off the rest of his own clothes (somehow this time having just one hand doesn’t slow him down too much) and flopping back down on the bed next to Bruce. They’re both on their sides, smiling like dopes, and Bucky rubs his nose against Bruce’s.
“I’m really happy,” Bucky says, filter completely gone. He runs his hand down Bucky’s side, to the jut of his hipbone, and back up again.
Bruce doesn’t make a joke about how he can tell just how happy Bucky is, just kisses Bucky, long and deep. “Me too.” Their kisses turn sloppier, more desperate, and Bucky throws a leg over Bruce’s hip, bringing them even closer.
Bruce shifts them, pushing Bucky on to his back, and kisses down his neck, stopping to suck and tease, and then drags his mouth down his chest. When Bruce latches on to a nipple and gives it a little tug, Bucky moans with pleasure. Bruce keeps it up until Bucky is peaked and hard, then does the same to the other one. Bucky is trembling all over, clutching at Bruce wherever his hand can reach. He feels like he’s soaring.
Bucky wants to explore Bruce everywhere, maybe do the same to Bruce’s chest, but Bruce has other ideas. Bruce rolls them to their sides again and gets his hand around both of them, and Bucky decides he’s going to have to save worshipping Bruce’s body properly for another day. Bruce gets a rhythm going, stroking over and over, with just the right amount of friction. His breath is hot and damp as he pants into Bucky’s neck, and he’s making little incredible noises of appreciation. Bruce’s hand on him is a little dry at first, but not for long, and soon they are both crying out as they go over the edge, one after another.
Turns out Bruce likes to cuddle after sex, too, and isn’t that just the most wonderful thing. Bucky would think he’s died and gone to heaven, but his past near-death experiences haven’t been anything like this good.
Six months later…
Dear Steve -
Sorry if this is a little rushed, T'challa just told me he could get a message through to you if I got it to him in the next twenty minutes.
First of all, I can’t believe you told Sam to get "the deets” on me and Bruce. Catching up with the times is one thing, sounding like a frat boy from a bad movie is quite another. But even though you’re a dork, I’m gonna answer your question.
Things with Bruce have been, and continue to be, awesome. He teases me about falling for an older man, although we can’t really agree on which of us is older. Thanks for helping me get that book on Asgardian meditation practices for his birthday, by the way. From the look in his eyes you’d think no one ever gave him a decent birthday present.
In answer to the question you asked in your last letter, I think for now the answer is no. I’m training and staying in shape, but I’m not ready to commit to fighting any bad guys right now. T'challa is having me spar with his soldiers to expose them to some different fighting styles, and I’m working with his sharpshooters, but I’m also getting kind of addicted to Wakandan yoga. And Bruce is enthralled by the research facilities here. It’s kind of nice to have this time just to be together, without any life threatening events adding unnecessary drama. Get back to me in a year or so, and we’ll see. (Of course, if you actually ever really need me, you bet your ass I’ll be there. Just send an interplanetary pigeon or something.)
Try and make it home sometime, pal. I miss you. And Bruce makes a tofu curry that’ll knock your socks off.
The first touch of his lips was decidedly more rough than he was expecting. Bruce reached around and grasped the back of his neck, his hand moving up to tug at his hair. He kissed him like he was worried Bucky was going to run away.
And Bucky’s heart broke a little when he realized how many people probably did run from Bruce. He knew how it felt.
He wasn’t running.
He let his hands move up Bruce’s chest, let the metal one move around behind him, pull him closer. Hold him tighter.
