Sam Wilson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
Entry tags:
[<,small>Bucky is so damn rusty at this; he can't even remember the last time he kissed anyone. The hand on his jaw and lip slides to the back of his head and scratches. Oh that feels amazing and he mirrors Sam's actions, curling his fingers along the back of Sam's head near the base of his neck. He relaxes into the touch and as Sam tilts one way, Bucky tries to follow him, only leading their noses to bump. Oh maybe he's supposed to go the other way. He tilts and their lips slot together like a lock and a key.
In the back of his head, the broodlink is humming as his mind bursts with more flowers. The snow melts away and birds dnce along the limbs of the trees.]
In the back of his head, the broodlink is humming as his mind bursts with more flowers. The snow melts away and birds dnce along the limbs of the trees.]
[ Even a few weeks ago, Sam might have flinched away from Shiro reaching out towards the chaos and emptiness, tried to shield it from him out of - not exactly fear of his response, really, maybe just not wanting to add more to Shiro's plate. But if Shiro wants it, he can have it, and he makes no attempt to hide the fact he's feeling the loss of a friend. ]
( Nyx is gone. ) [ It's not really an answer for are you okay, but it's an explanation for why he might not be. And an explanation for what he thinks Shiro's asking - or at least, he can hear Annie's voice in there, and the timing must mean something to do with Nyx. ]
( Nyx is gone. ) [ It's not really an answer for are you okay, but it's an explanation for why he might not be. And an explanation for what he thinks Shiro's asking - or at least, he can hear Annie's voice in there, and the timing must mean something to do with Nyx. ]
[ Sam doesn't really care about rusty, honestly. The fact that it's Bucky means a hell of a lot more to him than all the kissing skills in the world, and the way he can tell how much Bucky likes the way that feels - that's worth more than anything. Sam's always been into being able to figure out what his partner likes, always enjoyed being the one to make them feel good, but the feedback from the broodbond is-
It's a thing. It's a rush, and Sam leans into Bucky's touch on his neck, too, encouraging.
There's a trickle of amused affection when Bucky's nose bumps against his, and Sam briefly bumps his nose back, playful, before Bucky tilts his head and they slot completely together. Sunlight sparks in his mind, the clouds that usually obscure it dissipating, and he makes a small, contented noise in the back of his throat. ]
It's a thing. It's a rush, and Sam leans into Bucky's touch on his neck, too, encouraging.
There's a trickle of amused affection when Bucky's nose bumps against his, and Sam briefly bumps his nose back, playful, before Bucky tilts his head and they slot completely together. Sunlight sparks in his mind, the clouds that usually obscure it dissipating, and he makes a small, contented noise in the back of his throat. ]
[It's less starlight and more like lightning. Hot and sharp and racing to fill in the spaces between the clouds. To help. Somehow.]
(Like before?)
[Like when Steve went quiet. Is this like then? Is this the same situation? But with the added complication of -- Annie.]
(She said something happened.)
[Not to accuse him, not to say anything one way or another except the constant worry. The constant are you okay? that's never far away from his thoughts anymore. Not after the losses they've all suffered, lately.]
(Like before?)
[Like when Steve went quiet. Is this like then? Is this the same situation? But with the added complication of -- Annie.]
(She said something happened.)
[Not to accuse him, not to say anything one way or another except the constant worry. The constant are you okay? that's never far away from his thoughts anymore. Not after the losses they've all suffered, lately.]
[Along with the rustiness comes a lack of knowledge regarding timing and technique. He slowly pulls his mouth back, but keeps his hand curled at the nape of Sam's neck, unsure of what to do. Sam seems to enjoy kissing him and physical affection, in general, seems to please Sam. A silent question of what do I do now brushes about the borders of the link, even as he clings tight to the taste of Sam's sunshine and the sound of the birds' carols.
Above all the uncertainty, though, Bucky loves the gratitude and sense of joy rolling thrpugh him in waves. awhat started as yet another panic attack changed over in a heartbeat into something new and good.]
Above all the uncertainty, though, Bucky loves the gratitude and sense of joy rolling thrpugh him in waves. awhat started as yet another panic attack changed over in a heartbeat into something new and good.]
[ Sam smiles as Bucky pulls back, tugging just a little with the fingers he's still got in Bucky's hair before he scratches again. Whatever you want to curls out in an automatic response, but he follows it up by pressing a tiny, brief kiss to the corner of Bucky's mouth.
He knows Bucky has a hard time with wants, but like this, their broodlink open wide and the two of them as much in each other's heads as in the physical world, with the sheer amount of gratitude and joy he's getting from Bucky that's echoed back from him - goddamn he'd do this all day every day if it makes Bucky happy, figure out a way to turn every damn bad experience that Bucky's had into something new and different even if it takes him a lifetime - well.
Sam kind of hopes that maybe they can figure out this wanting thing. ]
( It's just you and me here, Bucky, we got nothing to worry about. Doesn't matter if you don't know what to do, just gives us an opportunity to figure it out together, yeah? I like that. For now - how about we finish that shave, and then go from there? )
He knows Bucky has a hard time with wants, but like this, their broodlink open wide and the two of them as much in each other's heads as in the physical world, with the sheer amount of gratitude and joy he's getting from Bucky that's echoed back from him - goddamn he'd do this all day every day if it makes Bucky happy, figure out a way to turn every damn bad experience that Bucky's had into something new and different even if it takes him a lifetime - well.
Sam kind of hopes that maybe they can figure out this wanting thing. ]
( It's just you and me here, Bucky, we got nothing to worry about. Doesn't matter if you don't know what to do, just gives us an opportunity to figure it out together, yeah? I like that. For now - how about we finish that shave, and then go from there? )
[It's the taste that comes first, paired with the smell, in that synesthetic way that flavors do, anis seed bitter and burn. It's not the kind of thing a Rabadocean would supply-- it's strong and nasty and it therefore belongs in a flask. Conveniently enough, that's where Shepard had been keeping it, squirreled away for just such an occasion: a drink to honor the fallen. And then another for the road]
Tell me about Riley.
[And then another, just because... life.]
Tell me about Riley.
[And then another, just because... life.]
[Without the snow to obstruct his view, in addition to the shared sunlight pouring over the broodlink, Bucky can see further into the expanse of his mind than he ever though possible. For the longest time, he thought the lonely jade tower surrounded by barbed wire and eternal snow would be the only part of hiim. There would be nothing else to explore, only continued work on digging under the snow to see what may lie underneath.
But now? Now he can see beyond the mental border he himself marked with barbed wire. Above the tangle of metal, a proud forest stands tall, so thick Bucky can't make one tree from the next. Yet past the trees is a familiar city skyline in the distance. Brooklyn.
He never thought there would be more to his mind than the lonely jade tower, never be more than HYDRA and the hope that uncovering the snow meant finding triggers. Now, there's so much more and Bucky can't help the rush of emotions unfurling in all directions.
His eyes burn as he smiles, soft and warm- a far cry from his smirk. Nodding, he offers a mental impression of sure, shaving is fine.]
But now? Now he can see beyond the mental border he himself marked with barbed wire. Above the tangle of metal, a proud forest stands tall, so thick Bucky can't make one tree from the next. Yet past the trees is a familiar city skyline in the distance. Brooklyn.
He never thought there would be more to his mind than the lonely jade tower, never be more than HYDRA and the hope that uncovering the snow meant finding triggers. Now, there's so much more and Bucky can't help the rush of emotions unfurling in all directions.
His eyes burn as he smiles, soft and warm- a far cry from his smirk. Nodding, he offers a mental impression of sure, shaving is fine.]
[ Bucky's mind is breath taking. Because it's beautiful, sure, Sam is equally caught up in the sun lit trees and the skyline of a city that's both home and foreign to Sam.
But also because it's Bucky. All of it is Bucky, and the sheer expanse of it is breath taking.
The hope that Bucky feels looking at the broadened landscape of his mind is just as breath taking, and Sam is just so damn grateful to be a part of it, to get to see it -
Somewhere buried far down, part of him accepts that he will never, ever get rid of the symbiote, not when it can help them have this, but conscious awareness of that will probably come much, much later.
Now, Sam smiles back, before letting go enough to reach for his shaving kit, though he stays close with his leg pressed against Bucky's.
He dips his fingers in a cup of water, then gently runs them back through Bucky's beard, just enough to get it wet - and if he lingers a little and scratches more than is strictly necessary, well. He just wants to, all right.
After that he squeezes out some shaving gel and rubs it between his hands, both to get it to frothe and to heat it up. Sam doesn't want there to be anything cold or clinical about this, and he leaves the impression of what he's gonna do before he sets one hand on Bucky's jaw, lathering up skin-warmed foam. ]
But also because it's Bucky. All of it is Bucky, and the sheer expanse of it is breath taking.
The hope that Bucky feels looking at the broadened landscape of his mind is just as breath taking, and Sam is just so damn grateful to be a part of it, to get to see it -
Somewhere buried far down, part of him accepts that he will never, ever get rid of the symbiote, not when it can help them have this, but conscious awareness of that will probably come much, much later.
Now, Sam smiles back, before letting go enough to reach for his shaving kit, though he stays close with his leg pressed against Bucky's.
He dips his fingers in a cup of water, then gently runs them back through Bucky's beard, just enough to get it wet - and if he lingers a little and scratches more than is strictly necessary, well. He just wants to, all right.
After that he squeezes out some shaving gel and rubs it between his hands, both to get it to frothe and to heat it up. Sam doesn't want there to be anything cold or clinical about this, and he leaves the impression of what he's gonna do before he sets one hand on Bucky's jaw, lathering up skin-warmed foam. ]
[Bucky is quietly embarrassed at Sam considering any part of him breath taking. His smile melts into more of an affectionate mush and the burn in his eyes doubles. His heart swells even as Sam moves judt far enough away to prepare the shaving cream. While eye contact is usually uncomfortable, bordering on distressing, but right now, it feels good and right.
Everything about this feels right. Sam's wet fingers dragging through his beard relax him and when Sam starts scratching, Bucky wants nothing more than to make Sam happy for the rest of their lives. Bucky's never felt that way about anyone before and he's not entirely sure what to do with the sensation.
When the scratching stops, he straightens from where he half-slouched against Sam. Foam should be alright. There's no blades here yet. He can do this for Sam]
Everything about this feels right. Sam's wet fingers dragging through his beard relax him and when Sam starts scratching, Bucky wants nothing more than to make Sam happy for the rest of their lives. Bucky's never felt that way about anyone before and he's not entirely sure what to do with the sensation.
When the scratching stops, he straightens from where he half-slouched against Sam. Foam should be alright. There's no blades here yet. He can do this for Sam]
[It's strange seeing grief from the other side, from an angle that affects Sam more than him. With Anakin, the proximity made the sudden, violent death unavoidable. Combined with Sam Anders burning a hole in his head, the entire experience left him shaken. When Aoba passed, the method deeply distressed him and coming off a mission made matters worse.
Now, the pain of the separation is more distant, but he can feel Sam's echoing across their bond and Bucky wants to do something, anything, for his broodmate. Since the death, he's taken to gathering sprigs of native flowers and laying them on Sam's bed. Just quiet reminders of life.
This time, he has a small collection of deep blue, elongated blooms, golden grasses, and small red ferns. He's just now finished binding them with a flexible fern and is about to lay them down when he hears a rustle of fabric.]
Now, the pain of the separation is more distant, but he can feel Sam's echoing across their bond and Bucky wants to do something, anything, for his broodmate. Since the death, he's taken to gathering sprigs of native flowers and laying them on Sam's bed. Just quiet reminders of life.
This time, he has a small collection of deep blue, elongated blooms, golden grasses, and small red ferns. He's just now finished binding them with a flexible fern and is about to lay them down when he hears a rustle of fabric.]
[ There's a hell of a lot of Bucky that's breath taking as far as Sam's concerned - and he kind of likes Bucky being quietly embarrassed, he's gotta admit - but all right, he'll back off that.
The continued eye contact is definitely making his heartrate quicken a bit, but it's not like that's new. The happiness he's feeling is new, though, and there's definitely the feeling that he's just kind of basking in it. Shit he loves this dumb jackass so much.
He hums quietly as Bucky straightens up, getting to work on spreading the foam over Bucky's beard, fingers still scratching occasionally.
Then he grins wide at Bucky, and playfully brushes his thumb against Bucky's nose to leave a little foam dollop on the tip of it. ]
Looking good, Buckbeak.
The continued eye contact is definitely making his heartrate quicken a bit, but it's not like that's new. The happiness he's feeling is new, though, and there's definitely the feeling that he's just kind of basking in it. Shit he loves this dumb jackass so much.
He hums quietly as Bucky straightens up, getting to work on spreading the foam over Bucky's beard, fingers still scratching occasionally.
Then he grins wide at Bucky, and playfully brushes his thumb against Bucky's nose to leave a little foam dollop on the tip of it. ]
Looking good, Buckbeak.
[ Oh, that's not fair. Sam's no alcoholic, but damn he could sure use a drink right now, and the taste and feel isn't helping.
He could have one. But he's kind of got the feeling he might have more than one, and he's got a plan to see through tomorrow, so. No, not until then.
For now, Shepard might notice that his mind is - not necessarily distant. In fact, it might be more present than ever, flowing through hers like he can hide himself in there, so he doesn't have to be back in his own mind. But it's... detached. Numb, just a little. ]
About him? Or how he died?
[ It's not really bitter - just curious. Most people only want to know about Riley's death, about how it affected him, not so much about Riley's life. About who he was, before he became one of the reasons Sam is who he is now. ]
He could have one. But he's kind of got the feeling he might have more than one, and he's got a plan to see through tomorrow, so. No, not until then.
For now, Shepard might notice that his mind is - not necessarily distant. In fact, it might be more present than ever, flowing through hers like he can hide himself in there, so he doesn't have to be back in his own mind. But it's... detached. Numb, just a little. ]
About him? Or how he died?
[ It's not really bitter - just curious. Most people only want to know about Riley's death, about how it affected him, not so much about Riley's life. About who he was, before he became one of the reasons Sam is who he is now. ]
Yeah.
[It's not deliberate, the way what should have been a crisp, professional thing becomes loose, uncontrolled. She doesn't know why he does this, why he turns to her for comfort. Part of her is colapsing with gratitude, to be needed. The other part wants to punch a bulkhead and shove anyone who might try to comfort her into space. Fortunately, Sam's doing the other thing.]
But. No. [Batarians do not brew absinthe. But what they do make is a truly lethal brandy that smells of some native wood they use to age it in. And Shepard? She just drinks it.] Just tell me. 'Cause you don't tell people.
[Because they don't ask about Riley. They ask about Sam. They use Riley's name to do it, but they're not asking for him.]
I'm asking.
[It's not deliberate, the way what should have been a crisp, professional thing becomes loose, uncontrolled. She doesn't know why he does this, why he turns to her for comfort. Part of her is colapsing with gratitude, to be needed. The other part wants to punch a bulkhead and shove anyone who might try to comfort her into space. Fortunately, Sam's doing the other thing.]
But. No. [Batarians do not brew absinthe. But what they do make is a truly lethal brandy that smells of some native wood they use to age it in. And Shepard? She just drinks it.] Just tell me. 'Cause you don't tell people.
[Because they don't ask about Riley. They ask about Sam. They use Riley's name to do it, but they're not asking for him.]
I'm asking.
[ Sam's not coping. But he's purposefully not coping - he's not coping in order to cope, or at least that's what he tells himself. He's got to get through the funeral, to help Annie and the others plant the spying devices that were his idea in the first place -
There'll be time to deal with all this later.
And he's - detached, a little. Just a little. He knows he's dissociating a little, knows he's purposefully keeping himself out of his head, but -
He can handle it. Eventually.
And then he finds the flowers on his bed. And keeps finding them, every time he passes, little spots of color and life that brighten his thoughts, that pull him in a little more due to their thoughtfulness than anything else.
Sam's not exactly surprised when he catches Bucky in the act, but he is... so damn grateful that for a moment he can't even speak. His mind curls around Bucky's with a murmured thank you even as he clears his throat, holding out a hand with a tiny quirk of a smile. ]
That for me?
There'll be time to deal with all this later.
And he's - detached, a little. Just a little. He knows he's dissociating a little, knows he's purposefully keeping himself out of his head, but -
He can handle it. Eventually.
And then he finds the flowers on his bed. And keeps finding them, every time he passes, little spots of color and life that brighten his thoughts, that pull him in a little more due to their thoughtfulness than anything else.
Sam's not exactly surprised when he catches Bucky in the act, but he is... so damn grateful that for a moment he can't even speak. His mind curls around Bucky's with a murmured thank you even as he clears his throat, holding out a hand with a tiny quirk of a smile. ]
That for me?
[Bucky glances up and finds the person he didn't want to catch him standing there. It doesn't need to be made into a big deal or anything, just small reminders that people care about Sam. Although, seeing Sam speechless gives Bucky a little touch of amusement. Lifting the sprig from Sam's cot, he crosses the space between them to hand it over in person.]
Yeah.
[It's really nice to see Sam smile after all the grief.]
Yeah.
[It's really nice to see Sam smile after all the grief.]
[ It's a big deal to Sam, but all right, yeah, he gets not wanting to make an ordeal over something that's meant to be a little gesture.
Sometimes the little gestures mean more than anything. Or at least, they do for Sam. He is... consistently surprised, when people make an effort for him, and he spends a moment to remind himself how grateful he is to have his friends in his life.
To have Bucky in his life.
His fingers linger against Bucky's as he takes the sprig, ducking his head even as his smile grows a little at that amusement he can feel coming from Bucky. ]
Doesn't happen all that often, huh? [ Him being speechless, he means, so Bucky better enjoy it. Thanks, sunshine. You, uh. You're better at this than you think.
Sometimes the little gestures mean more than anything. Or at least, they do for Sam. He is... consistently surprised, when people make an effort for him, and he spends a moment to remind himself how grateful he is to have his friends in his life.
To have Bucky in his life.
His fingers linger against Bucky's as he takes the sprig, ducking his head even as his smile grows a little at that amusement he can feel coming from Bucky. ]
Doesn't happen all that often, huh? [ Him being speechless, he means, so Bucky better enjoy it. Thanks, sunshine. You, uh. You're better at this than you think.
Didn't know if they still did flowers for this stuff. [Bucky enjoys the lingering touch, the way Sam's fingers warm his own, but still looks away after a long moment, as the eye contact grows uncomfortable. He'd wanted to give Sam something after the shave, but didn't know what. Unfortunately, Lavellan's passing reminded Bucky of flowers placed on graves and also given to those left behind.]
[At the return of the scratches, Bucky's nerves settle again, soothed by the gentle tug of nails against his skin. When Sam grins, Bucky raises his eyebrows, but then he's got a dollop of foam on his nose and he can't help but chuckle lightly. He probably looks more his age with the white foam in his beard, being a hundred years old and all. In the back of his mind, he wonders if he'll start aging now that he's been out of cryo for a touch over three years. For now, though, he can laugh at the white beard and try to dispel the slowly growing nerves.]
What's a Buckbeak? [says the guy who missed all of Harry Potter]
What's a Buckbeak? [
[ Sam swallows, running his thumb over the fern and focusing on the feel of his texture under his skin. ]
Yeah. Still do. Flowers are kind of an all occasion thing, I guess. [ He hesitates, pulling in a breath and letting it out, trying to think without letting himself get too deep in his own head. ] I haven't done this since - I might not be all that great company for a few days. If all this starts being too much for you, you can tell me.
[ Being with Bucky makes it easier, but he doesn't want Bucky to feel like he has to stick around if what's going on in Sam's head starts being overwhelming. ]
Yeah. Still do. Flowers are kind of an all occasion thing, I guess. [ He hesitates, pulling in a breath and letting it out, trying to think without letting himself get too deep in his own head. ] I haven't done this since - I might not be all that great company for a few days. If all this starts being too much for you, you can tell me.
[ Being with Bucky makes it easier, but he doesn't want Bucky to feel like he has to stick around if what's going on in Sam's head starts being overwhelming. ]
[ Bucky looking up and chuckling at him like that almost makes Sam want to hold off on the shave right here, to keep giving Bucky reasons to laugh - but no, he knows better. They can get back to this point again; it doesn't mean anything if they do it by just never touching on anything that's potentially upsetting. ]
A good looking guy with shaving cream on his nose. [ Sam's teasing, smile wide, but his mind supplies the real answer easily - a stunning feathered animal, part bird, part lion. A character in a book, a movie. ] Always wanted one.
[ Of course, they've got the birdlings - maybe they'll grow up into one. Not the point, anyway. Sam scratches one more time, mind curling around Bucky's and settling in their broodlink more firmly so Bucky'll know everything he's gonna to before he does it -
And then picks up the razor, and moves to make the first gentle swipe over Bucky's jaw. ]
A good looking guy with shaving cream on his nose. [ Sam's teasing, smile wide, but his mind supplies the real answer easily - a stunning feathered animal, part bird, part lion. A character in a book, a movie. ] Always wanted one.
[ Of course, they've got the birdlings - maybe they'll grow up into one. Not the point, anyway. Sam scratches one more time, mind curling around Bucky's and settling in their broodlink more firmly so Bucky'll know everything he's gonna to before he does it -
And then picks up the razor, and moves to make the first gentle swipe over Bucky's jaw. ]
[Well, it's not entirely because of the death. He'd wanted to woo Sam in some small way and he remembered flowers. Bucky carefully reaches for Sam's hand, aiming to thread his fingers with his broodmates.]
Okay. [He doesn't mind. He just wants to help Sam in some small way.] Let me know if I can help?
Okay. [He doesn't mind. He just wants to help Sam in some small way.] Let me know if I can help?
[At first, Bucky's a touch puzzled by Sam's initial answer, but then the impression of a bird-lion billows across the link and he's not sure how he compares. He finds himself smiling at the thought of the twins, waiting for them back on the station. Sam scratches his beard one more time and then his eyes catch the gleam of metal out of his peripheral. On instinct, his right hand surges out to close about Sam's wrist, tight like a manacle.
Shit.
This wasn't what he wanted. ]
Shit.
This wasn't what he wanted. ]
[ One of the best things about their brood link, and about their connection being so strong, is that Sam can feel when Bucky's instincts flare up. He stops the second Bucky grabs him, making no move to pull his hand from Bucky's grasp. ]
It's fine - that's just you letting me know you need another minute. Look, man, I know that words didn't get you anywhere for a real long time; it makes sense that you'll react with what you've got. But you've got me, Bucky, you've got me. And I'm getting pretty good at learning what you're trying to tell me, so we can do this together. I'm not in any hurry.
[ No, he's not in any hurry - and he gets it, he does. Sam breathes, nice and slow, in to seven and out to eleven. ]
How about you breath with me, and count off everything you see in the room that's green - and you can hold on until you feel like you're ready to try again, then let go?
It's fine - that's just you letting me know you need another minute. Look, man, I know that words didn't get you anywhere for a real long time; it makes sense that you'll react with what you've got. But you've got me, Bucky, you've got me. And I'm getting pretty good at learning what you're trying to tell me, so we can do this together. I'm not in any hurry.
[ No, he's not in any hurry - and he gets it, he does. Sam breathes, nice and slow, in to seven and out to eleven. ]
How about you breath with me, and count off everything you see in the room that's green - and you can hold on until you feel like you're ready to try again, then let go?
[Bucky nods silently, even as the bitter taste of shame works its way up his throat. He thought he was comfortable enough. Hell, Sam's been doing everything under the sun to ease his nerves and yet here they are. Gone is the glow of happiness, the bright sunshine to illuminate the full landscape of his mind. Gone is the proud forest full of fur and pine. Gone is the distant glimmer of a city he barely remembers, but recognizes all the same.
Instead, the snowstorm has resumed and the flowers that sprung up from under the ice are quickly covered in frost and ice.
But Sam says his name, reminds him this is different, that one step back doesn't mean giving up and he breathes as deeply as he can.]
One. [Inhale. Long exhale.] Grass. Two. [In through the nose and out through the mouth.] Tent.
Instead, the snowstorm has resumed and the flowers that sprung up from under the ice are quickly covered in frost and ice.
But Sam says his name, reminds him this is different, that one step back doesn't mean giving up and he breathes as deeply as he can.]
One. [Inhale. Long exhale.] Grass. Two. [In through the nose and out through the mouth.] Tent.
Page 24 of 30