"I'll kiss you any time you want, sweetheart," Bucky told her as he leaned in to let their lips meet again. Wrapping an arm around Steph's middle, Bucky tugged her close again, absolutely loving the fact that he was allowed to touch her and be so close to her now.
Eventually, he broke the kiss, grinning softly at her. "Of course I remember everything about who you were, and are," he started, pressing gentle kisses to her cheeks. "When I escaped and started to remember things, all my first memories aside from that place were of you." She was even the trigger for him remembering anything in the first place, even if it was just feelings of must protect initially. Protecting Stephanie Grace Rogers had always been Bucky's number one priority, and he couldn't see that changing any time soon.
Steph didn't move into Bucky's lap this time, if only because she realized he would have to get up again and she would hate the interruption even more if she were grinding against him. Kissing at least kept her urges at a controllable simmer. She'd always known she felt things a bit too much — especially anger at the unfairness of things, and righteous indignation — but that it extended to sexual desire was a revelation. Or maybe because it was Bucky. If he made her love so fiercely, then it wasn't far off that he made her lust too.
"There are just better things to remember," she said quietly, ducking her head a little. Cap's shadow was one she would have to live with now, and it would take a little more time for her to get used to it. But if he could love her for who she was — ordinary, unremarkable Stephanie Rogers — then she could do that too.
She decided to change the subject, reaching to give his sleeve a playful tug. "Can't wait to get this off you."
"Hey," Bucky watched the way she ducked her head, frowning just slightly at the way she almost seemed to hide a bit. But at least she didn't pull away. "I've always paid attention to the things you tell me, whether it was a song you liked or something with your health. How could I try to look out for you if I didn't pay attention to your health?" Especially since she was the type who would lie and say she was fine when she was obviously getting exhausted, or try to push through if she began to come down with something, until the point where she had to do something about it.
But when she pulled at his sleeve, he paused. Bucky hadn't exactly thought about that part, too caught up with everything else to consider that she was going to want him shirtless. "It's... It's not pretty, Steph," he sighed. "There's a lot of scarring, and it's just... It's not right." Logically, Bucky was well aware that he wasn't exactly the only disabled vet who lost a limb. But most of them didn't have their prosthetic permanently fused to their body, complete with skin overlapping the edge of the metal.
"You didn't have to anymore," Steph explained. "I'm just glad you still remember." She couldn't make Bucky stop in the same way she wouldn't stop taking care of him, and not for lack of trying. That was just how it worked when you love someone, she supposed.
It was her turn to frown. She hadn't just meant the arm specifically, but it was understandable for him to have strong feelings about his body. She did, and it wasn't even like she was deformed or anything, just not tall and curvy and traditionally beautiful per society's standards. She drew her hand back to cup his cheek instead. "Sorry. You don't gotta take it off if you don't wanna. But how you look will never change how I feel about you." If he'd come home from the war unable to walk or bedridden for the rest of his days, she would still love him, and take care of him despite her own poor health.
Bucky rolled his eyes at that comment. "Steph, sweetheart, I need you to know that I'm always gonna look after you. You've been the most important person in the world since we were kids." Even after she had gotten the serum, Bucky still went out of his way to look out for her. He helped her put together the Howlies so he could stay by her side, pulled her out of a river when he didn't even understand why he needed to do that, and kept himself away when he knew he wasn't safe to be around. Bucky was always going to put Steph before himself. Didn't matter if she was big or small.
"No, it's-" Bucky almost said it was okay, but it wasn't okay. Not exactly. "You should probably at least know what you're signing on with, cause it's not a normal prosthetic or anything." Figuring he needed to go ahead and get it over with, Bucky sighed and pulled away from her, but stayed angled towards her instead of turning away as he pulled his shirt off and set it aside. He was pretty sure the scars on his back were a little worse than the ones on his chest.
This moment wasn't like anything Steph ever imagined. She certainly never expected herself to be angry. Fingers trembling, she reached out to touch the part where flesh met metal, only to stop before she could make contact.
"Can I...?" She swallowed. It felt wrong, but she wanted to trace those scars with her fingertips, then with her mouth. Not in a sexual way, but with love and acceptance. She'd meant it, that she loved him. This changed nothing.
Well, nothing except her understanding and support of Cap. She could see herself making that decision now too, especially if Bucky never told her what she really meant to him. Give them hell, Captain, she thought, though it did little to ease the tension that had seeped into her. He didn't deserve any of this. And then he was to be tried for some crime? Who did she have to fight? Because she was going to fight.
If it had been anyone but Steph -- either Steph -- Bucky would have pulled away, refusing to let them touch him. Hell, he never even let anyone see where it connected. Sure, sometimes he tore the sleeve off his jacket or shirt when he had to fight, but that was because the material would get pinched and caught between the plates on occasion. It was easier to get it out of the way. But when he wasn't fighting, he rarely even wore short sleeves, and usually even had gloves on in public, no matter the season.
When not at his hut, at least. At his hut, he dressed completely different.
But it was Steph, and he had seen her at her sickest, and her most troubled. Not only was fair fair, he trusted her. "Yeah, you can touch it if you want." Why she would want to, he had no idea.
Bucky only flinched slightly at the first brush of her fingertips. "Sorry," he said, voice soft. "It doesn't hurt or anything, I'm just not used to it being touched. Or... Seen. Outside of a hospital, at least."
Steph was as gentle as she could be, even as her fingers trembled from the building rage inside of her. She furiously blinked back tears as she followed the path of Bucky's scars, then leaned in to press her lips to his skin.
It wasn't fair. He deserved better than this. War was cruel, that was true, but she wished there was something she could have done anyway. Her own helplessness made her angry, too.
"I love you so much," was all she said after a long moment, her mouth still on his skin and her eyes brimming with tears. Then she straightened and took his metal hand in both of hers. If I had the power to change anything, I would, too, she had been about to say, but her own words stopped her. True, she didn't have the serum to make her strong and healthy like Cap, or whatever magic stone Cap used to travel through time. But what had happened to him — the war, the fall, and the unspeakable after — weren't the only wounds that needed healing. She could change that.
"Thank you for sharing this with me." She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed the back of it. "I can't change what happened to you, Buck. I wish I could. But I'm here now, for whatever that's worth."
"I love you, too, Steph. More than anything," he said simply, watching her. There had been a part of him that was worried she would recoil in disgust from it, because it wasn't something you typically saw on a person. While he hadn't exactly heard the word "cyborg" used in reference to him directly, Bucky had read and watched enough science fiction in his life to be well aware that it described him since he got a fake arm in the first place.
"You're the first person I've let see it aside from doctors since I got this one on," he said, biting his lip gently. "I haven't had this one long. The one HYDRA bolted on me got blown off a few years ago. This one's from Wakanda, so at least the memories aren't as bad, even if the scars are."
Maybe one night he'd tell her how most of the scars he'd made himself, repeatedly trying to claw the offending arm off of his body after it was first attached to him, but that would be a different night.
Using the hand she was already holding on to, Bucky pulled her hands to his mouth to press a gentle kiss to them. "Thank you. For not freaking out." He meant it. He could tell she was upset by it, but he was pretty sure that she was upset for him.
When he heard a knock at the door he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before getting up, pulling his shirt back on as he made his way to answer it. Just because he let Steph see it didn't mean he was going to let just anyone see it.
It didn't take long for him to get the box from the delivery person and pay him that generous promise, then he made his way back to the bedroom where he left her. They might need to work back up to the mood a bit, but at least they were prepared. There was a small, somewhat nervous smile on Bucky's face as he tossed the box onto the side table closest to him.
After Bucky left the bedroom Steph sat on the bed in silence, staring down at the hands she'd balled into fists on her lap. The scars were ugly and awful, that was true, but it wasn't disgust she felt. And at another time she would find herself impressed by the technology of the arm, but right now she was too upset to notice it.
She wanted to reach across time to tell Cap, Do what you gotta. Make those fuckers pay. Let me die if it saves him. She understood now why Cap never told Bucky the plan; he was a dumbass who would rather suffer and lose an arm than lose her, and he would stop her if he knew.
She didn't realize she was crying until she heard the box clatter against the table, and she hastily swiped at her tears with her hands. "Sorry. I'm just... I'm just so mad." At those who hurt him. At herself for not being able to protect him, in this time or otherwise. And if she hadn't already stopped believing in God, this would've been the nail on the coffin.
She might have been trying to hide it, but Bucky knew Steph like the back of his (right) hand. Frowning, he got back into his place beside her on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "I understand." His voice was soft when he spoke. "I've spent a lot of time mad, too."
After sitting with her like that for a moment, he relaxed his grip and let go, then moved so he was lying down on the bed -- on the left side so she would have the softer arm beside her, and the comforter pushed aside so he could cover the two of them. Bucky was well aware she got cold easily. Once he was settled, Bucky held his arm out to her, inviting her into the spot against him. "Let me hold you?"
Steph nodded mutely, then crawled into the space beside him. Curling against him, she buried her face into his chest and fisted his shirt, and just let Bucky hold her for a minute.
Sure enough, she calmed down after a while, and she pulled back enough to look up at him. "Sorry. I... I didn't mean to make it about me." He understood her more than most people, so she hoped he did this time. "And for ruining the mood." So much for fucking. And he had condoms delivered too.
"Did she avenge you?" That was why they were called the Avengers, right? Steph was sure Cap wouldn't have let whoever who did this to him just walk away, whether or not she knew that he loved her.
Bucky pulled the blanket over them and wrapped his arms around Steph, holding her close. "I think they're almost gone now. Or, they were before half the population disappeared for five years. I haven't really looked into it since I got back," he began, then pressed a kiss to the top of Steph's head.
"She did a lot, but she didn't know I was alive until ten years ago. And she'd also been frozen until a couple years before that." Bucky rubbed his hand slowly up and down Steph's back, trying to comfort her as much as himself. "I was... they used me. Wiped my memories, twisted my mind, put trigger words in my head, and kept me frozen unless they needed me."
Pausing, Bucky chewed at his lip, eyes on the wall instead of looking down at Steph. "The trial's gonna be because they used me as their personal assassin for decades. Their mistake was sending me after her."
"Why you?" Steph had deduced from Cap's email exchange with her lawyer friend that Bucky was the one facing charges. Murder or whatever it was for assassinating people. "They used you."
But she knew enough from having fought for the underdogs and the marginalized that those with power would do anything except hold themselves accountable. They would condemn him to appease the masses, or use him as a scapegoat if there was no one left to prosecute. She was going to have to bring herself up to speed on things if she were to help him.
The fact that he had killed people didn't bother her, even outside of being in the Army. She still trusted him, and she still wanted his hands on her, even the strange metal one. She snugged closer to him. "I won't let them lock you up. If they want you, they're gonna have to go through me." Big words for a tiny, sickly woman who didn't have the serum or the shield to fall back on, but Steph meant them.
"They probably want someone to point a finger at, so they can say they did something," Bucky sounded almost resigned. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes and tilted his head down, letting his lips and nose press against the top of her head, and the mostly faded scent of shampoo they probably didn't make anymore soothed him.
"I won't give up or anything, though. I'll talk to the lawyer she found, even give him that cursed book if I need to. I won't let them take me away from you, Steph. Especially not now that I know you love me, too." Especially since this tiny Steph was there with him. Small, prone to sickness, not knowing anything about the year they were in, he needed to be by her side to help her. He would have done the same even if she didn't love him the way he wanted.
Steph looked up and cupped Bucky's cheek. "We'll get through this together," she promised. She didn't know how she was going to help, exactly, but that had never stopped her before. She at least had an idea where to start: Cap's files, world history from 1945 to 2023, and whatever language that spooky red book was written in.
But that could wait until morning. Hoping it would provide some measure of comfort, she pulled herself up to kiss him, soft and slow but not at all chaste. Maybe a fuck was just what they needed, after everything that happened today.
Bucky's metal hand spread out on Steph's lower back and he gently tugged her a bit closer as he kissed her back. She felt so tiny against him, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but he also knew she was more tough than most people gave her credit for. (But maybe not as tough as she acted at times.)
She also felt right against him, and so did the kissing, and the fact that he was allowed to tell her exactly how he felt about her. It was all enough to distract him from the awful past he'd been telling her about. "I love you, sweetheart," he said into the kiss, hand moving from her back to her thigh, then under her skirt to rest on her narrow hip.
"I love you too, darling," Steph replied easily, and as they continued to kiss she lifted a leg and rested it along Bucky's side. His metal hand moved from her back to her thigh then, but she didn't even flinch, despite how different it felt compared to his flesh hand.
She did, however, give a little whimper when his hand slipped under her skirt. Well, technically it was a shirt, just a few sizes too big on her that it ended up looking like some kind of short summer dress. Beneath that, she only had the panties she'd been wearing in 1943, and the thin strapped undershirt she wore instead of a bra, both of which his large hand on her narrow waist was already coming in contact with.
When he had her pinned to the wall earlier, she could feel how small she was against him, but she didn't really have a precedent since it wasn't like they'd made out in the past. Now, however, she had a point of comparison. They'd slept together (literally, sex was never involved) far too often that she knew where and how her body fit into his. That wasn't the case anymore. He was a bit too tall, a bit too broad, a bit too thick — and she was surprised to realize just how much she actually liked that.
Groaning softly into the kiss, Bucky couldn't help moving his hips slightly, seeking friction without finding any. Eventually, Bucky pulled back and tugged at the hem of the large shirt gently as he asked, "Can I?" When Steph nodded, Bucky sat up and helped her out of the shirt, grinning softly as he looked her over in her underclothes.
He had seen Steph in her underwear before, but only when he was helping her into a fresh nightgown or something because she was sick with a fever and he didn't want her to stay in a sweaty gown, or helping her out of her day clothes and into a gown when she was, again, too sick to manage well on her own. But he had never tried to look her over in those moments. It didn't seem right, trying to ogle his best friend when she was too sick to even dress herself properly.
But then, Bucky hesitated. It only lasted for a moment, but it was there as he convinced himself he should take his own shirt off. Bucky wanted to be able to feel her skin against his, not just the cotton of the shirt, and she'd already seen the scars, so they wouldn't be a big shock for her. So, he pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it aside with Steph's, and lay back down to capture her mouth with his once more.
"Hey, no fair, I wanted to do that," Steph pretended to complain as Bucky pulled her back into the bed with him. She did want to take off her shirt, but she was mostly saying it to alleviate his obvious discomfort.
And maybe a little of hers. He seemed happy enough when he looked her over, but she couldn't unsee the picture of tall, curvy, perfect Stephanie Rogers, so hot she had to fend off advances from strangers. Steph knew she was plain and forgettable by comparison.
Then Bucky's mouth was on hers, kissing her in a way that would've made her Ma blush if she knew, and Steph remembered how he'd said, Of course I remember everything about who you were, and are. That was enough. She didn't need the whole world. He was her whole world.
She ran her fingers over his scars again, after which she ventured lower, satisfying a curiosity she'd had for years. "Jesus, Buck," she said suddenly, pulling back to look down and ogle at his abs, tracing the bumps and lines while she bit on her lower lip. She wasn't about to give whatever they put him through credit for this work of art, but damn. "You were holding this out on me too?"
Bucky chuckled softly at Steph's reaction to him. It was definitely better than earlier, when she had the shock of seeing what his shoulder was like for the first time, but it made his face redden anyway. "Come on," he rolled his eyes. "We went to the beach how many times? You know I didn't look like this." In the 30s, during that time he'd heard called the Great Depression, the beaches of New York City were free activities, and they were teenagers looking for things to do on their days off from school or between what jobs Bucky could scrounge up.
"But I'm glad you don't hate that I'm bigger than I used to be." He closed his eyes for a moment, then, just enjoying the feel of his girl touching him in ways she never had before. When he reopened his eyes, Bucky looked at her with a soft grin on his face. "I always wanted to feel you touching me, though." It was just his abs, which wasn't that scandalous compared to other things, but still. It was Steph's hands on bare skin that was usually hidden away.
Steph giggled then, a completely girlish giggle that she wasn't in the habit of making. She propped herself up some, resting her head on her left hand while the fingertips of the other moved off his abs to start skimming the waistband of his pants. "So... you're also bigger here...?" she teased, but a bit more timidly than she usually did.
The flush on her face spilled to her neck as she felt the temptation to palm his crotch, as he'd said he wanted her touching him anyway. She was held back, however, by the thought of people doing things to him without his consent. Her touch might be welcome, but she didn't want to overstep her bounds. Love was patient; she could wait until he gave her permission.
"I love you however you look though," she assured, not wanting him to think her or her love shallow. She brought her hand back up to his shoulder, touching the scars around where the metal connected before trailing her fingers down his arm. "Even this."
Bucky let out a soft moan when Steph ran her fingertips along his waistline. "I, uh... Yeah, actually," he admitted a bit sheepishly. He hadn't exactly been a slouch in that area before the war, either, but that serum had definitely made him bigger than before everywhere.
She moved on before actually touching him there, and while it was slightly disappointing, Bucky was content to let her explore. He didn't even flinch when she touched his scars that time, and grinned a little when she ran her fingers down his vibranium arm. "I can feel that, you know." He was watching her face instead of her fingers, but he could tell exactly where they made contact with him. There might be a minuscule delay between where she touched and him registering the feeling because wiring wasn't the same as nerve endings, but that was still worlds better than nothing. "Not the same as the other arm, and it doesn't feel pain or anything, but there's sensors or something in it so I can still feel."
He caught her hand in his metal one then, and brought it up to press soft kisses to her fingers. "You know you can touch me anywhere you want, right?"
"Like, now? Or anytime?" It was probably the latter, but Steph just wanted to be sure, especially since she was likely going to be very handsy once she'd gotten Bucky's permission. How could she not? She had always wanted to look at him, to touch him, to feel him wrapped around her. Their stolen moments had been great and all — those intimate instances that they'd claimed were purely platonic, though had actually hoped otherwise. But now she didn't have to pretend he felt the same, because he did.
"You can touch me anywhere and anytime you want too," she offered before he could ask, just in case it wasn't clear. "I like it when you touch me."
Slowly, shyly, she drew her hand back and his along with it, guiding it toward her chest. His hand was large enough to cover her small breast. She hoped he wasn't disappointed. "So you can feel that?"
"Any time you want, Steph," Bucky told her simply. "I'm all yours." And he would be sure to touch her, too, since that's all he'd ever wanted to do.
When Steph guided her hand to her breast, Bucky's breath caught slightly. That was, after all, one area he'd always made sure to keep his hands far away from out of respect. "Yeah, I can," he answered, thumb drifting across the slight inside curve, along her breastbone, the slide of metal along the fabric of her undershirt making it almost glide. "It's not the same as with my right hand, but I can definitely feel a perky breast under there."
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Eventually, he broke the kiss, grinning softly at her. "Of course I remember everything about who you were, and are," he started, pressing gentle kisses to her cheeks. "When I escaped and started to remember things, all my first memories aside from that place were of you." She was even the trigger for him remembering anything in the first place, even if it was just feelings of must protect initially. Protecting Stephanie Grace Rogers had always been Bucky's number one priority, and he couldn't see that changing any time soon.
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"There are just better things to remember," she said quietly, ducking her head a little. Cap's shadow was one she would have to live with now, and it would take a little more time for her to get used to it. But if he could love her for who she was — ordinary, unremarkable Stephanie Rogers — then she could do that too.
She decided to change the subject, reaching to give his sleeve a playful tug. "Can't wait to get this off you."
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But when she pulled at his sleeve, he paused. Bucky hadn't exactly thought about that part, too caught up with everything else to consider that she was going to want him shirtless. "It's... It's not pretty, Steph," he sighed. "There's a lot of scarring, and it's just... It's not right." Logically, Bucky was well aware that he wasn't exactly the only disabled vet who lost a limb. But most of them didn't have their prosthetic permanently fused to their body, complete with skin overlapping the edge of the metal.
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It was her turn to frown. She hadn't just meant the arm specifically, but it was understandable for him to have strong feelings about his body. She did, and it wasn't even like she was deformed or anything, just not tall and curvy and traditionally beautiful per society's standards. She drew her hand back to cup his cheek instead. "Sorry. You don't gotta take it off if you don't wanna. But how you look will never change how I feel about you." If he'd come home from the war unable to walk or bedridden for the rest of his days, she would still love him, and take care of him despite her own poor health.
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"No, it's-" Bucky almost said it was okay, but it wasn't okay. Not exactly. "You should probably at least know what you're signing on with, cause it's not a normal prosthetic or anything." Figuring he needed to go ahead and get it over with, Bucky sighed and pulled away from her, but stayed angled towards her instead of turning away as he pulled his shirt off and set it aside. He was pretty sure the scars on his back were a little worse than the ones on his chest.
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"Can I...?" She swallowed. It felt wrong, but she wanted to trace those scars with her fingertips, then with her mouth. Not in a sexual way, but with love and acceptance. She'd meant it, that she loved him. This changed nothing.
Well, nothing except her understanding and support of Cap. She could see herself making that decision now too, especially if Bucky never told her what she really meant to him. Give them hell, Captain, she thought, though it did little to ease the tension that had seeped into her. He didn't deserve any of this. And then he was to be tried for some crime? Who did she have to fight? Because she was going to fight.
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When not at his hut, at least. At his hut, he dressed completely different.
But it was Steph, and he had seen her at her sickest, and her most troubled. Not only was fair fair, he trusted her. "Yeah, you can touch it if you want." Why she would want to, he had no idea.
Bucky only flinched slightly at the first brush of her fingertips. "Sorry," he said, voice soft. "It doesn't hurt or anything, I'm just not used to it being touched. Or... Seen. Outside of a hospital, at least."
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It wasn't fair. He deserved better than this. War was cruel, that was true, but she wished there was something she could have done anyway. Her own helplessness made her angry, too.
"I love you so much," was all she said after a long moment, her mouth still on his skin and her eyes brimming with tears. Then she straightened and took his metal hand in both of hers. If I had the power to change anything, I would, too, she had been about to say, but her own words stopped her. True, she didn't have the serum to make her strong and healthy like Cap, or whatever magic stone Cap used to travel through time. But what had happened to him — the war, the fall, and the unspeakable after — weren't the only wounds that needed healing. She could change that.
"Thank you for sharing this with me." She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed the back of it. "I can't change what happened to you, Buck. I wish I could. But I'm here now, for whatever that's worth."
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"You're the first person I've let see it aside from doctors since I got this one on," he said, biting his lip gently. "I haven't had this one long. The one HYDRA bolted on me got blown off a few years ago. This one's from Wakanda, so at least the memories aren't as bad, even if the scars are."
Maybe one night he'd tell her how most of the scars he'd made himself, repeatedly trying to claw the offending arm off of his body after it was first attached to him, but that would be a different night.
Using the hand she was already holding on to, Bucky pulled her hands to his mouth to press a gentle kiss to them. "Thank you. For not freaking out." He meant it. He could tell she was upset by it, but he was pretty sure that she was upset for him.
When he heard a knock at the door he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before getting up, pulling his shirt back on as he made his way to answer it. Just because he let Steph see it didn't mean he was going to let just anyone see it.
It didn't take long for him to get the box from the delivery person and pay him that generous promise, then he made his way back to the bedroom where he left her. They might need to work back up to the mood a bit, but at least they were prepared. There was a small, somewhat nervous smile on Bucky's face as he tossed the box onto the side table closest to him.
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She wanted to reach across time to tell Cap, Do what you gotta. Make those fuckers pay. Let me die if it saves him. She understood now why Cap never told Bucky the plan; he was a dumbass who would rather suffer and lose an arm than lose her, and he would stop her if he knew.
She didn't realize she was crying until she heard the box clatter against the table, and she hastily swiped at her tears with her hands. "Sorry. I'm just... I'm just so mad." At those who hurt him. At herself for not being able to protect him, in this time or otherwise. And if she hadn't already stopped believing in God, this would've been the nail on the coffin.
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After sitting with her like that for a moment, he relaxed his grip and let go, then moved so he was lying down on the bed -- on the left side so she would have the softer arm beside her, and the comforter pushed aside so he could cover the two of them. Bucky was well aware she got cold easily. Once he was settled, Bucky held his arm out to her, inviting her into the spot against him. "Let me hold you?"
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Sure enough, she calmed down after a while, and she pulled back enough to look up at him. "Sorry. I... I didn't mean to make it about me." He understood her more than most people, so she hoped he did this time. "And for ruining the mood." So much for fucking. And he had condoms delivered too.
"Did she avenge you?" That was why they were called the Avengers, right? Steph was sure Cap wouldn't have let whoever who did this to him just walk away, whether or not she knew that he loved her.
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"She did a lot, but she didn't know I was alive until ten years ago. And she'd also been frozen until a couple years before that." Bucky rubbed his hand slowly up and down Steph's back, trying to comfort her as much as himself. "I was... they used me. Wiped my memories, twisted my mind, put trigger words in my head, and kept me frozen unless they needed me."
Pausing, Bucky chewed at his lip, eyes on the wall instead of looking down at Steph. "The trial's gonna be because they used me as their personal assassin for decades. Their mistake was sending me after her."
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But she knew enough from having fought for the underdogs and the marginalized that those with power would do anything except hold themselves accountable. They would condemn him to appease the masses, or use him as a scapegoat if there was no one left to prosecute. She was going to have to bring herself up to speed on things if she were to help him.
The fact that he had killed people didn't bother her, even outside of being in the Army. She still trusted him, and she still wanted his hands on her, even the strange metal one. She snugged closer to him. "I won't let them lock you up. If they want you, they're gonna have to go through me." Big words for a tiny, sickly woman who didn't have the serum or the shield to fall back on, but Steph meant them.
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"I won't give up or anything, though. I'll talk to the lawyer she found, even give him that cursed book if I need to. I won't let them take me away from you, Steph. Especially not now that I know you love me, too." Especially since this tiny Steph was there with him. Small, prone to sickness, not knowing anything about the year they were in, he needed to be by her side to help her. He would have done the same even if she didn't love him the way he wanted.
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But that could wait until morning. Hoping it would provide some measure of comfort, she pulled herself up to kiss him, soft and slow but not at all chaste. Maybe a fuck was just what they needed, after everything that happened today.
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She also felt right against him, and so did the kissing, and the fact that he was allowed to tell her exactly how he felt about her. It was all enough to distract him from the awful past he'd been telling her about. "I love you, sweetheart," he said into the kiss, hand moving from her back to her thigh, then under her skirt to rest on her narrow hip.
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She did, however, give a little whimper when his hand slipped under her skirt. Well, technically it was a shirt, just a few sizes too big on her that it ended up looking like some kind of short summer dress. Beneath that, she only had the panties she'd been wearing in 1943, and the thin strapped undershirt she wore instead of a bra, both of which his large hand on her narrow waist was already coming in contact with.
When he had her pinned to the wall earlier, she could feel how small she was against him, but she didn't really have a precedent since it wasn't like they'd made out in the past. Now, however, she had a point of comparison. They'd slept together (literally, sex was never involved) far too often that she knew where and how her body fit into his. That wasn't the case anymore. He was a bit too tall, a bit too broad, a bit too thick — and she was surprised to realize just how much she actually liked that.
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He had seen Steph in her underwear before, but only when he was helping her into a fresh nightgown or something because she was sick with a fever and he didn't want her to stay in a sweaty gown, or helping her out of her day clothes and into a gown when she was, again, too sick to manage well on her own. But he had never tried to look her over in those moments. It didn't seem right, trying to ogle his best friend when she was too sick to even dress herself properly.
But then, Bucky hesitated. It only lasted for a moment, but it was there as he convinced himself he should take his own shirt off. Bucky wanted to be able to feel her skin against his, not just the cotton of the shirt, and she'd already seen the scars, so they wouldn't be a big shock for her. So, he pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it aside with Steph's, and lay back down to capture her mouth with his once more.
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And maybe a little of hers. He seemed happy enough when he looked her over, but she couldn't unsee the picture of tall, curvy, perfect Stephanie Rogers, so hot she had to fend off advances from strangers. Steph knew she was plain and forgettable by comparison.
Then Bucky's mouth was on hers, kissing her in a way that would've made her Ma blush if she knew, and Steph remembered how he'd said, Of course I remember everything about who you were, and are. That was enough. She didn't need the whole world. He was her whole world.
She ran her fingers over his scars again, after which she ventured lower, satisfying a curiosity she'd had for years. "Jesus, Buck," she said suddenly, pulling back to look down and ogle at his abs, tracing the bumps and lines while she bit on her lower lip. She wasn't about to give whatever they put him through credit for this work of art, but damn. "You were holding this out on me too?"
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"But I'm glad you don't hate that I'm bigger than I used to be." He closed his eyes for a moment, then, just enjoying the feel of his girl touching him in ways she never had before. When he reopened his eyes, Bucky looked at her with a soft grin on his face. "I always wanted to feel you touching me, though." It was just his abs, which wasn't that scandalous compared to other things, but still. It was Steph's hands on bare skin that was usually hidden away.
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The flush on her face spilled to her neck as she felt the temptation to palm his crotch, as he'd said he wanted her touching him anyway. She was held back, however, by the thought of people doing things to him without his consent. Her touch might be welcome, but she didn't want to overstep her bounds. Love was patient; she could wait until he gave her permission.
"I love you however you look though," she assured, not wanting him to think her or her love shallow. She brought her hand back up to his shoulder, touching the scars around where the metal connected before trailing her fingers down his arm. "Even this."
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She moved on before actually touching him there, and while it was slightly disappointing, Bucky was content to let her explore. He didn't even flinch when she touched his scars that time, and grinned a little when she ran her fingers down his vibranium arm. "I can feel that, you know." He was watching her face instead of her fingers, but he could tell exactly where they made contact with him. There might be a minuscule delay between where she touched and him registering the feeling because wiring wasn't the same as nerve endings, but that was still worlds better than nothing. "Not the same as the other arm, and it doesn't feel pain or anything, but there's sensors or something in it so I can still feel."
He caught her hand in his metal one then, and brought it up to press soft kisses to her fingers. "You know you can touch me anywhere you want, right?"
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"You can touch me anywhere and anytime you want too," she offered before he could ask, just in case it wasn't clear. "I like it when you touch me."
Slowly, shyly, she drew her hand back and his along with it, guiding it toward her chest. His hand was large enough to cover her small breast. She hoped he wasn't disappointed. "So you can feel that?"
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When Steph guided her hand to her breast, Bucky's breath caught slightly. That was, after all, one area he'd always made sure to keep his hands far away from out of respect. "Yeah, I can," he answered, thumb drifting across the slight inside curve, along her breastbone, the slide of metal along the fabric of her undershirt making it almost glide. "It's not the same as with my right hand, but I can definitely feel a perky breast under there."
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