ohnofeelings | Can you hear the war inside my head

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Can you hear the war inside my head

In his dreams, Bucky was still at war. Sleep, when it came, was never a peaceful reprieve. It always started out fine. Things were quiet, darkness crept in around the edges, the tension in his muscles finally began to ease and loosen enough for him to breathe like an ordinary human being. Then came the dreams. The deafening clash and bang of not distant enough warfare. The flash of gunpowder and explosions. The clatter of shells on the ground and the smell of singed flesh, snow, copper and iron.

It wasn't the same as being back in the war. Somehow it was worse. Inescapable and inevitable. No matter how much the phantom flashes of pain or the terror of relived nightmares chilled his heart and froze the marrow in his bones, it never ended. Death would be a respite from this hellish torment. Not that Bucky had become suicidal, but he knew he would not die here in his dreams. He knew, and still each time he woke, drenched and gasping for air. His chest too tight, his skin too cold and his head too full of war.

He had seen men shot in front of him, blown to pieces by the terror of a rolling war machine, experienced torture at the hands of the enemy before a freak explosion allowed him and a handful of men to escape, battered and bloody, but the real damage wasn't on the outside of their skin.

This particular night, his nightmares needed no images. Darkness and the frigid cold of a solid table beneath his back. The screams in his head were not of his fellow soldiers. They were his. Horrible and desperate sounds of a dying animal who knows its time has come but still fights it with every last shred of its will.

His throat closed up in his sleep, his heart pounding so fast it hurt. Bucky groaned in his sleep, nonsense words half-mumbled and half spoken tumbling from his lips. Rank. Name. Unit. Rank. Name. Unit. Rank. Name. Unit. He tossed and squirmed, a protest from his lips, half strangled by his own panic attack, woke him with a start. He jolted to a seated position, lungs straining as he gasped for air, hands white with the force of his grip on the blanket that had been covering him. Deep, heaving breaths left his shoulders shaking, eyes wide and darting around the darkness of the room. Braced for pain, for interrogation and even the death he knew would cruelly evade him.

He had no concept of where he was, not even seeing the room with his eyes as wide as they were. Not seeing anything at all, but lost in his mind's terror. His hair, longer now since coming home from the war, stuck to his head, damp with sweat. Adrenaline flooded his system and left him hard wired even in the heavy exhaustion that hung over him, a dead weight he couldn't shake.

They might have taken Bucky out of the war, but no one could take the war out of Bucky.

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Well. It did succeed in one thing. Whatever Steve might have been trying to accomplish, the brush of Steve's lips against his sent Bucky crashing back into the present in a wreck of confusion and disbelief.

Steve's lips were slightly chapped, but they were soft pressed against Bucky's. Warm and somehow reassuring. While his mind tensed up at what was going on, his body relaxed into it. Invited the distraction from his thoughts and the war that was everywhere in his head.

He made a low, questioning sound, brows drawing together and lips parting slightly to ask a question until he realized he wasn't even sure what to ask.

After a few moments of this shock he turned his head, pulling away, not violently, but very obviously. He stared at Steve, uncertain of how to process or react to what just happened. Steve had kissed him. Steve? Steve had kissed him. What?

"Steve?"

Edited 2013-06-22 12:38 (UTC)

He already knew he didn't think this through when he leaned over. Now that Bucky moved away, Steve moved back to his original position, this time retracting his arm as well. At least Bucky hadn't pushed him out of the bed, but maybe getting up was a good idea.

Instead of moving more right away, he froze, trying to find some kind of response, which meant horribly stumbling over his words. "I'm sorry. I--I don't know what I was thinking. I just thought. Maybe it would, uh. Help. Or something. That's all. It didn't actually mean anything, don't worry." It was said too quickly for that to possibly be reassuring at all. Furthermore, this was Steve, a man who'd pointedly not even considered kissing a bird unless he knew she was The One.

Yeah.

He scooted away more, then slide his legs over the side of the mattress as he started to sit up. He didn't know where he was going to go, but he figured maybe space would do Bucky some good.

Oh no, Steve. You don't get to kiss and bolt. Bucky knew Steve better than he knew himself. That meant he saw right through that stumbling lie Steve was trying to form. He caught Steve's arm, reluctant to let him leave. Not without a better explanation. Especially not knowing that if he did, Steve would take it as a rejection and Bucky wasn't ready for that.

He wasn't sure how he felt about any of it yet.

"Hey." Yeah. That was all he had right off the bat. But it was something and that was better than nothing.

His grip tightened at the prospect of losing Steve.

Even considering it was too much.

"Wait just a moment, will ya."

A million thoughts and memories were racing through his head. Steve's disinterest in Dames. All the time they had spent together. Closer than any two men, any two people he knew. They were always together from the first few days after they met. Covering each other's backs, helping each other through thin wallets, thick skinned bullies, jeers and fights, hard times and... less hard times. Bucky couldn't remember one good thing that had happened in his life that didn't have Steve's face next to it. He didn't want to think about a life without him there. Steve was the reason he kept going in the war. The reason he fought to survive when he was taken prisoner. He was the reason Bucky still fought, now. To be someone still and not a shell like so many others who had come back from war. Purposeless. Hollow and haunted.

He shook his head slowly, pulling back on his arm just enough for Steve to feel the subtle request. Echoed in less subtle ways.

"Don't." Please. Steve. Don't leave him with this confusion in his head. "Steve," Please. "Don't leave." Bucky would have cringed to hear the desperate edge to those words but he was too focused on the other man in the room

Steve wasn't expecting Bucky to grab his arm. Maybe he should have. This was his best friend, and he couldn't expect to just do that and then leave. But that's what he wanted to do. He wanted to go on a nice long walk away from Bucky and think about what he'd done.

The one thing he could never do was tell Bucky no. Not like this. Not when he sounded so desperate. Confused. Steve couldn't blame him for that. This all came out of no where. Except it really hadn't, not to Steve. He'd wanted to for years. At first he thought it was just idolisation. Bucky was everything Steve wanted to be.

He was strong. He was handsome. Tall. Charming. All the ladies laughed so easily around him. Steve never was interested in that part, but it was still admirable. At some point that changed and Steve realised it was more than that.

Steve wanted to be his, in the way he shouldn't have. In the way that went beyond the means of being a best friend. He wasn't a dame, and he wasn't even an attractive man. Who did he think he was.

He sank back into the bed, still keeping the space between them. "I'm sorry." He was supposed to be helping Bucky, not being selfish. And he couldn't take this back.

Bucky's hand slid down to Steve's wrist, the former soldier shifting onto his side. Was it weird to be lying in bed together after Steve kissed him a moment ago? Did Bucky care?

He didn't want Steve to go. Not now. Really not ever. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he was sure of one thing. There was no life in his head, no future planned or past worth remembering, that didn't have Steve in it. He needed time to sort that out. He needed to think this thru before he risked their friendship on a desperate need to not lose Steve. He needed to rationalize why the other man was in his thoughts every moment of his life. Always factored into everything he did.

He needed all of that. And yet- Lying there, watching Steve with that look of worry in his eyes and knowing Steve was panicking too, whether he showed it or not, Bucky couldn't really care about all those things he needed and should have been doing.

All he could care about was how much he needed the other man in his life.

He lifted his other arm and hesitated a moment before he reached over, his hand curling against Steve's jaw. Forehead still furrowed with a lingering uncertainty, he leaned in, another moment's hesitation before he was leaning in, lips pressing softly to Steve's once more. He just needed to see. Needed to know what it felt like when he could actually process more than shock.

Steve tried to stay calm, tried to keep his heart from lurching all the way up into his throat, but he couldn't. He was only aware of the hand on his wrist. Bucky's fingers were warm, maybe even burning hot because it was all he could focus on.

Part of him wished he'd just let go, but the other part was somehow exhilarated by the contact alone. It was different than any other time they touched, and Steve knew it was because he'd gone and changed everything by kissing him. They were now launched into some strange new territory and there were only a few ways Steve could imagine this going now.

All of them terrified him.

The last thing he expected was for Bucky to kiss him back. After a couple moments of just having Bucky's hand on his wrist, Steve cut it out to just be insistence on not leaving. But this- Steve wasn't sure if this was better or worse. It was a toss up, really. Despite how much he wanted this, there was too much uncertainty. Everything was already changed, and maybe it wouldn't make a difference now.

He was just now terrified of Bucky looking at him differently, in a bad way.

This second kiss should've been a small indicator that Bucky probably maybe wouldn't. But that could change in a few hours when he wasn't so shaken up by his nightmares. And if it didn't? Steve didn't know. Maybe it wasn't even important right now. Maybe he should've tried figuring out how to respond.

Theoretically, he knew what he was supposed to do, but he was nearing thirty years old and this was brand new to him. The best he could do was rely on instinct, and instinct told him to slightly part his lips while leaning into the kiss. It wasn't much; it was tentative at best, but that was an apt definition of everything at the moment.

Bucky had been luckier, or perhaps just more interested, in love, where Dames were concerned. He had kissed a good number of women but never had anything serious with any of them. If any had stuck around for a second date, they would have quickly become irritated at coming in second in importance. Steve had always come first. The only exception had been Bucky's last night at the Expo before he shipped off. He had been making damn sure he would find a beautiful dame to take to bed before he wasn't going to have a chance for a long time.

Of course, it was only partially that and partially Bucky not knowing how to handle a good bye with Steve. The way they had parted left him worrying about his best friend many nights and days, but it had hurt less than the slow, drawn out good bye.

But Steve did come first. Always. In everything Bucky ever did before the war. After, Steve still held that spot of importance, but there was a reliance added to it. Steve was the only thing that had been the same when he got back from the war. A little more worn at the edges, a little harder and more determined, but still Steve. Still the one thing that made sense.

All that changed with a tiny kiss that left Bucky's head reeling and put him on uncertain ground. What if Steve hadn't meant anything by that. What if he had?

Bucky's head was swimming with thoughts and concerns, confusion and fear of losing all he had left. But Bucky had also not kissed anyone in a good long time, and never anyone who meant as much to him as Steve did. He fell into it without much thought to the kiss, his mind busy trying to figure out what it meant while ignoring that he was pressing on with it.

His lips brushed against Steve's parted ones, just continuing the kiss at first. Then he took that instinctual reaction as an invitation. Steve was leaning in, and his lips were warm, parted and inviting. Bucky's hand on his face grew a little firmer and he brushed his tongue lightly over the other man's lips.

Steve had that in common with him. There wasn't anyone who meant as much to him. Bucky had been the one consistent thing in Steve's life, and the fear of him suddenly not being there had been present ever since Bucky went off to war and Steve's five attempts to enlist turned into eight, to ten, to realising he was never going to get over there at all.

He was angry and frustrated and succummed to putting everything hr had into factory work. Scrapping. Trying to survive. That changed when Steve got Bucky's letter, the one he never should have but there truly wasn't much of a difference between MIA and KIA. Not over there. Spiralling into depression had been a given, and the apartment fell into disrepair and Steve stopped taking care of himself altogether. There wasn't any point.

There wasn't a time that Steve felt more helpless. He was alone, he was just one man, one whose body mismatched his heart, whom no one took seriously. Except the one person who did, whom Steve could do nothing for, not even avenge, because he had no means of getting overseas.

He'd only been able to put himself together again when he got a telegram retracting Sergeant Barnes's status as dead. Partly because he was sick of himself being stuck in a rut like that, even if it was for extremely good reason. Most of it had been that he knew Bucky would one day be coming home, and he hadn't any idea what state he'd be in. He had to be the stronger one, at least in the capacity that Bucky needed most.

Which was why Steve never told Bucky how many times he'd drawn him while he was away. Why he never told him how bad off he'd been when he'd gotten the news. He already worried too much about Steve as it was, and needlessly so. As far as Steve was concerned, at least.

That's what made all of this more tricky. Either way, Steve knew that he was the only one to blame for this. He could've found another way to distract his friend, one that didn't involve acting on the whims of an ever-present crush.

He was trying not to think about any of it. Not how he felt, or about the possible repercussions. It was impossible, and he didn't even know what the smart thing to do was anymore. He couldn't pull away now, not even if he wanted to. Steve's breath hitched, surprised when Bucky's tongue brushed against his lips. He wasn't startled, not really, and the surprise was more pleasant than anything. His lips parted more, moving against Bucky's slowly while his free hand finally settled on the back of his neck.

Bucky had come this far already. In his mind there was no logical reason to stop now. He slipped his tongue past Steve's lips, taking the kiss deeper. More insistent with the need to anchor himself in the moment. This was real. This was happening in the moment he was in, and for the first time in almost 2 years, the war in Bucky's head fell to the back of his mind, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions he couldn't even begin to process or understand.

This was not going to be simple or easy to sort out. It was going to be hard. Desperately so. He would probably take a long time to understand everything Steve had managed to make him feel in the last five minutes. But right now, Bucky needed this. The distraction, the affirmation that Steve was there, and perhaps most importantly, a connection to Steve that was strong enough to shove the horrors back for a little while at least.

He felt a damp trail moving down his cheek, breaking the kiss to wipe it away with an uncertain hand, staring at his fingers for a few dragging seconds before he risked looking at Steve again. He was protective of Steve, yes. He always had been and always would be. But it wasnt because he looked at Steve and saw someone too weak to look out for himself. It was because he looked at Steve and saw someone who would never back down, and worse, someone he was certain he couldn't live with out.

He had to have Steve's back, because he could not lose him. He wouldn't lose him over this either. He couldn't bare it.

He wet his lips, eyes lifting from staring at Steve's lips to looking his best friend in the eyes, his own far more lucid than they often were these days.

"Not planning on bolting out the door on me, are you, Steve-o?" His voice was softer than usual, nervously questioning. He still hadn't let go of Steve's wrist.

Steve was suddenly understanding all the appeal to this. If he thought about it, it was weird. He was basically laying there with his best friend's tongue in his mouth, and Bucky's tongue was touching his and in simple terms like that, he'd wonder why people do this at all. But with his eyes closed, tongue brushing against Bucky's, and fingertips twisting in his hair, Steve had nothing he needed to think about.

Not concerning that, anyway.

There was no ignoring the small sound in his throat or the way he found himself scooting closer for no apparent reason. He was enjoying this a lot, and he was certain that what made it even better was that it was with Bucky. He knew just kissing had to be nice, since Bucky had done that with so many ladies in the past. The partner factor had always been important to Steve, and this was no exception.

When Bucky pulled away, Steve took a moment to catch the breath he didn't even know he'd lost. He panted, watching Bucky watching him. Making eye contact. Finally, he laughed, just a little. It was out of his own nervousness and apprehension more than anything. "Running away was never my strong suit."

For once, Bucky was glad for that fact. Not that he didn't look at Steve's bravery with pride, but sometimes that stubborn bravery frustrated the living hell out of him. Like when he was helping Steve up off of alleyway pavement and watching him wipe blood off his face with the back of his hand. There was a time and a place to back down and out. Steve didn't seem capable of doing either.

Bucky had to give a short laugh of his own, smoothing his hair back in one slow gesture and clearing his throat. The kiss had been nice. He thought it might be weird, kissing Steve. Not just because he wasn't a Dame, but because it was Steve. Instead it had just made everything more... of everything. More terrifying, more enjoyable, more likely to make his heart seize up.

"Yeah. I noticed."

He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck when his hand slid to the base of his skull.

"Steve ... I don't-" He wasn't sure what to say so he trailed off, still very lucid, very there in the now, but terribly uncertain. A feeling he was neither used to or fond of.

"You find some dame to practice that on while I was gone?"

Regardless of whether or not that was supposed to be a legitimate question, Steve found it hilarious. His tension dissipated when he pressed his face into the pillow and just laughed, shoulders shaking and everything. He figured it wasn't too terrible of a reaction, simply because he found himself able to relax around Bucky again.

He didn't know how long that would last, but it was something. There still was no known direction for this, so the ability to find normalcy in interactions was important. Then again, this was only on his side. He had no way of knowing what was going on through Bucky's mind just yet.

Things were... weird, sure. Uncertain. The uneasiness that stemmed from that was possibly why it was suddenly to laugh. Focusing on the ridiculous, the one thing that still remained the same consistently made this all easier. Once he was calm enough to actually be able to speak, he turned his head again to face the other man. "Do you actually think I was ever capable of becoming some sort of Casanova? If so, I think you might've hit your head harder than you think."

It was meant to be a playful jab, like the regular sort of banter they always had, and that was apparent on his face. It was so much better to take this route than to dare discuss emotions.

Bucky's face cracked into one of his old grins. They could almost be back before the war. One of their post failed double date conversations. He dropped his hand, head bowing slightly as his laugh died into a light, playful chuckle.

"You were the most eligible bachelor around here for a while. You might have snagged some lucky lady without me knowing." It was a playful return fire and he peered up at Steve without really lifting his head, one side of his mouth lifted up in that sideways smile.

"I guess you're just a natural. All those girls didn't know what they were missing out on."

Yes, Steve. Bucky is calling you a good kisser.

There was a witty retort on the top of his tongue, but as soon as he registered the last thing Bucky said, Steve found himself incapable of responding intelligently. He wasn't a prude, and he and Bucky had grown up together. It wasn't like this was the first time they'd ever talked shop. That was all teenage boys talked about, regardless of experience. Just because Bucky did more of the talking didn't mean that Steve was against any discussion like this.

Because it was with Bucky. It wouldn't have happened with anyone else, but Steve didn't know anyone as well as Bucky, didn't feel comfortable enough around anyone else.

This was different than any other time, Bucky wasn't talking about some dame he'd gone dancing with. Wasn't speaking in general terms, or repeating something he'd heard from someone else. He was talking about Steve.

"I-" How did he even respond to that. Words? English? What was that? "Thanks, I guess." He was a little flustered, as he hadn't been expecting to hear something like that at all. He'd missed seeing that smile, that laugh. Even if it wasn't as heartily as he heard years ago. It was more Bucky than Bucky had been.

Was that because of the kiss, or just in reaction to everything else? Steve didn't know, but he had to wonder. Which made him stare at Bucky's lips in a rather obvious manner.

Bucky caught Steve's line of sight. He still wasn't sure what was going on with them. What all of this would mean and how to handle it. Everything became a mess if he stopped to think about it for too long. He started to worry about what it would do to their friendship. Started to try and process what Steve was expecting from him. He knew that Steve would never do something like this without a lot of real emotion behind it. Emotion he had misread and missed. For how long...?

What he was sure of, was that it had felt good to kiss Steve. Whether that was how long he had been without that kind of physical contact, or because it was Steve he still wasn't sure.

Well. There was one way to start to try to find out.

He leaned in, leaving a chance for Steve to stop him or back out. Then his lips were going for Steve's again.

It wouldn't surprise him if sometime later, Bucky already had everything figured out in regards to how Steve felt. He thought he'd masked it well over the years, and he was certain of it. Between Bucky being gone for two years and Steve absolutely desperate to help him now that he was back... well. Bucky was smart, and when that conversation happened, Steve wasn't going to lie to him.

When Bucky started to lean in, Steve did too, meeting his halfway. Steve kissed him gently, much the same as before. There was no intent behind it apart from just kissing. He was enjoying it all, from Bucky's lips against his to the fluttery feeling in his gut.

As much as he liked this, he was still had no intention of rushing into anything. This was still weird, and until he actually got the gumption to talk about things for real, that wouldn't change. At the moment he was assuming Bucky was either humouring him with this or indulging because of the lack of going out to me girls. Figured it was likely not any more than that. But at the moment, he was fine with it.

Bucky wasn't ready for anything more than this. It was nice, but he still had no idea where he stood in all this. Too surprised and confused to know hois own feelings. Steve was easier to figure out than his own head.

Still. He wanted this right now. Whatever that meant for later, he would find out then. For now he just wanted to enjoy the moment and the closeness to Steve that it gave him.

He kept the kiss light. It never shifted into some hungry, desperate battle for dominance or need to lose himself in it. It was just a long, slow series of kissing that bordered on being a shade awkward. Again, only if he thought about it, which he was trying desperately not to do.

He had one hand on the back of Steve's head by the time he pulled away, where his fingers had been curling and uncurling against she short clipped hairs there. He licked his own lips when he pulled away just enough to breathe easier, his breathing coming in soft pants.

It was still... strange. Kissing Steve. But not in a bad way. Just in a way that left him still confused when it ended.

It was good for Steve that it didn't get farther than this. His own standards aside, it allowed for practise. For what and for whom? He didn't know, and he wasn't letting his mind go there. It mostly just meant that whenever he did kiss someone again, he wouldn't be bad at it. Bucky said he was a natural, sure, but at least having a little bit of experience would give him confidence in that area.

The hand that had once been on Bucky's neck rested on his cheek. He idly stroked his thumb over the other man's cheekbone, while the rest of his focus was on the kissing and savouring it for the duration.

One thing he would have to do was either remember to breathe during or break kisses long enough to take a breath. His lungs weren't exactly strong, after all, and he was back to panting heavily. He didn't mind it in the least; he was able to easily catch his breath and all. He didn't pull away to do that, though. He was still rather close to Bucky, all things considered.

He just didn't know what to do. Or say. Was there anything he could say? Admitting this was weird, or this was nice, or verbally mentioning it at all just seemed odd, so he opted to just look at him as he started breathing more regularly.

Bucky wasn't ready for talking just yet, anyway. After a few minutes he shifted down a little more, letting go of Steve's wrist just to wrap an arm around him. He didn't pull him closer, but he shifted so Steve had room to move in closer if he wanted to. There were still a good few hours left until morning and much as Bucky hated the prospect of slipping back into his nightmares, he was willing to risk it with Steve's warmth so close to him.

"It is kind of cold."

It was the only response he had, and he hoped it was enough for Steve to get the invitation to stay. Though he'd understand if the other man wanted to move away from him. He just felt far more relaxed at that moment then he had since arriving back home, and most, if not all, of the reasoning for that.

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Steve scooted closer to Bucky. Despite his previous insistence on staying awake, Steve was still exhausted. Bucky was nice and warm and sleeping next to him would be a lot better than being over in his bed alone. He'd learned to sleep through his own shivering. That had been a hard adjustment over the past couple autumns and winters, and one Steve wasn't going to keep on with if he didn't have to.

He wasn't particularly cold right now, not in comparison to what it'd be like in a month. He was comfortable, though, and there was no need to turn down this invitation.

"You're warm." It was a lame response, but one Steve allowed his exhaustion to leak into as he closed his eyes.

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Can you hear the war inside my head

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