Work Text:
Steve wants to say that Bucky found him a short week after Project Insight, but he’d be lying. The man who found Steve was more Winter Soldier than Bucky. But Steve can at least reassure himself that Bucky is with him and not with HYDRA, and has willingly and peaceably followed Steve to New York and to a shared suite in the Avengers Tower.
The road to recovery is going to be long, as every single person has warned Steve, but it’s fine. Bucky will get better. One day he’ll stop saying Steve’s name like it’s a role designation. One day Bucky will be able to look Steve in the eyes when they talk. One day Bucky will be able to do more than stare blankly when asked a question. In the meantime, Steve tries his best to make Bucky feel included. Tonight, he’s taking Bucky down to the common room to have dinner with the Avengers. Bucky complies, as he always does, and follows a careful two steps behind Steve.
They are having pizza that night, so Steve looks through the array of boxes and picks a few with interesting toppings. Bucky follows behind him, picking out the same slices. Steve tries to remind himself that picking pizza is hard, that the dietician told him that Bucky eating solid food is already an achievement.
Bucky says his first words of the day about three pizza slices into dinner. Thor is telling a story about a particularly exciting battle he’d fought, and Tony and Clint are gently bickering about whether pineapple belong on pizza.
“Steve.” Bucky says next to him, quiet and looking at Steve’s shoulder.
“Yes, Bucky?” Steve always tries to put as much warmth as he can into Bucky’s name.
“Permission to stop eating this food?”
Steve looks down at Bucky’s plate. He seems to be halfway to his fourth slice of pizza. It has olives, peppers, paneer, and onions. “Don’t like the toppings? Or are you full?” Given Steve’s metabolism, he can usually go through eight or ten slices before approaching satiation.
Bucky looks down at the pizza. “Dairy products lead to indigestion in 42 minutes.”
“Holy shit, Buck.” Steve takes the last slice out of Bucky’s hand, and snags a basket of garlic bread. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Why did you eat three and a half slices?”
Bucky's eyes flicker briefly to Steve's eyes before returning to rest at Steve's shoulder. “I had to try.”
* * *
“Whatever it is, you need to try it for fifteen minutes first.” Alexander used the voice he’d use to direct his daughter. “It’s important to try something first, right? Don’t just say no without knowing what it’s like.” Alexander stepped neatly over the body of the scientist next to the operating table, careful not to get any blood on his suit. “Especially if you lash out and hurt people when you’re saying no.”
The Soldier’s gaze flicked briefly from Alexander’s shoulder down to the damage he’d done, then back up again. Contrite, he nodded.
“And don’t worry, at the end of the fifteen minutes, you can always ask for permission to stop.” Alexander smiled. “We do value your opinion, Soldier.” He’s found it easier to get buy-in when the stakeholders feel like they have a say in the matter.
Soldier nodded again.
“But before the fifteen minutes, it is *your* responsibility to stay calm.” Alexander laid a hand on the Soldier’s shoulder, and relishes the little breath that the Soldier lets out at the contact. “We’re counting on you to do that, Soldier. You can, can’t you?”
The Soldier’s eyes flicked up to meet Alexander’s and he nodded solemnly.
“Good.” Alexander smiled, and gently pushed the Soldier to lay back down on the operating table. With the other hand, he gestured at the two remaining scientists to pick up their scalpels. “Now remember, fifteen minutes.”
The Soldier grit his teeth as the scientists hurried to finish their surgical experiment, and Alexander made sure to call a halt at 14 minutes.
He could still feel the warm grateful gaze of the Soldier on him as he ordered the scientists to tidy up.
* * *
Bucky is giving Steve weird looks today as they begin their routine morning run. Well, to other people, they’d just look like one of Bucky’s standard blank stares, but Steve is beginning to tell the differences. There’s a nervousness to Bucky today. His eyes keep sneaking glances at Steve’s face when he thinks Steve isn’t looking, and his lips flatten slightly, a tiny shadow of the way Bucky used to chew his lips. Whatever it is doesn’t seem like an immediate reason for alarm, however, so Steve just finishes lacing up his shoes and starts their circuit.
They’re about three circuits through when Bucky says suddenly, “I’d like to stop.”
Steve skids to a stop and looks at Bucky curiously. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?”
“Body 100% functional.” Bucky looks even more nervous now, as if he’s expecting to be berated for being healthy.
“That’s great.” Steve’s just glad that Bucky didn’t accidentally hurt himself — he’ll figure out Bucky’s nervousness later. Looking around he spots a sign advertising all day breakfast. “Oh hey, that looks like a diner. Want to try it with me? We can get you some stuff without cheese.” After the pizza fiasco, Steve had sat Bucky down and worked out a list of his no-go food items, which he’s also disseminated to the other Avengers and, more importantly, to JARVIS. Bucky looks at the diner, then looks at Steve, then does what Steve privately calls a “Bucky-nod”, which is actually just a longer blink.
“Great! I’m hungry.” He starts striding towards the diner, and Bucky falls into step next to him, whatever that was bothering him before seeming to have stopped. Even though Steve doesn’t know what it is, he’s going to count that as a win.
* * *
Alexander loved the watch the Asset in action. Even hobbled by excess weights as he was, and clearly panting from his 50th run through the obstacle course, there’s a certain grace and efficiency to his movement that was thrilling to watch. All that power at Alexander’s beck and call.
Until the Soldier suddenly stopped and turned toward the observation room. Alexander frowned and clicked on the microphone, making sure his displeasure could be heard. “What is it, Soldier?”
The Soldier looked discomfited by the loudspeaker, perhaps due to a lack of a shoulder to stare at. “It’s been fifteen minutes, sir. Requesting permission to stop.”
Alexander turned off the microphone and turned to the men around him. “Has he been doing this regularly?”
The others looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, ever since that last incident, he sometimes calls a stop to training…”
“And no one thought to tell me this earlier?” Alexander made a mental note to fire the entire department. Or better yet, let the Soldier take care of them. Why must he be the one to clean up after incompetents? Sighing, he descended from the observation room to the training ground.
The Soldier stood at attention, eyes now trained at Alexander’s shoulder. Good.
“Soldier, I’m really glad that you are willing to try anything for fifteen minutes,” Alexander said with an avuncular tone. It helps to get the disobedient child onto your side. “And it’s good that you then ask for permission to stop.” The Soldier’s shoulders eased, mollified by the approval. Alexander chose that moment to say, “But no, you may not stop.” The Soldier’s eyes flash briefly upward and his eyebrows pinch inward minutely. That's far more displeasure than Alexander had expected. He made a mental note to increase the frequency of the Soldier's obedience training sessions.
“You are allowed to ask for permission, but ultimately, it is your handler who can decide.” Alexander softened his voice. “I’m just looking out for you, Soldier.” Soldier’s eyes darted briefly upward again, though his eyebrows had eased. Ah. Doubt. Alexander walked forward and places a fatherly hand on Soldier’s shoulder. “Soldier, this is training to prepare you for your missions, is it not?” It’s not much different from coaxing his daughter to do her math homework, really.
The Soldier nodded somewhat hesitantly, so Alexander continued before he could raise objections. “And isn’t it important to excel at your missions? After all, we don’t want you to make a mistake and hurt yourself.”
The Soldier nodded more decisively at that. Alexander smiled. “Exactly. And on missions, would you be able to stop every fifteen minutes, or even every 10 hours?” As the Soldier shook his head, Alexander continued. “Of course not. You can’t stop until a mission is completed. It’s the same with mission-related training. Otherwise you wouldn’t be prepared for missions, would you?”
The Soldier nodded, and Alexander made sure to squeeze his shoulder before stepping away. “Good. I knew I could count on you.”
Back in the observation room, he gave the command to push the Soldier until he dropped from exhaustion.
* * *
Steve is eyeing the clock behind the Senator who is currently trying to engage him in small talk. Just one more minute, and then he can make his exit from Tony’s fundraiser. As if on cue, Bucky emerges from his side, and mutters, “I’d like to leave.” Then he glares at the Senator, making him stammer in the middle of his attempt to take credit for raising the minimum wage. Steve’s pretty sure Bucky’s not glaring on purpose, it’s really Bucky’s resting glare face, but why look a gift horse in the mouth? Steve shakes the Senator’s hand, mumbles something polite, and makes a quick retreat with Bucky to the door.
“Thanks so much for rescuing me there, Bucky. Come on, let’s go.”
Bucky pulls to a stop and stares at Steve for one brief moment before he’s looking at Steve’s shoulder again. “You are leaving too?”
“Hell yeah, Buck. I hate this stuff. The noise, the small talk, everything’s just too much.” Steve snags a handful of rolled meat things from a passing tray. “The food’s good, at least.”
Bucky’s eyes dart from Steve’s shoulder briefly to his eyes, a tiny pinch of mild disbelief in his brows. “We don’t have to come back?”
Steve shrugs. “Well, not until the next time Tony throws a fundraiser, but we can just stay for 15 minutes then, too. Tony’s fine with it.”
Bucky takes a long look at where Tony is holding court with a gaggle of people in fancy dress. “No one asked me to do anything at this party.”
“Well, did you *want* to do anything?” Steve’s suddenly realizing that he may not have been a good host. He just told Bucky to dress in the fancy suit that Tony’d prepared for him and then Bucky’d simply followed, a silent two steps behind as he usually did.
Bucky tenses, and his eyes dart up at Steve’s face. There’s a certain tightness to his mouth that means he’s worried.
“You don’t have to try mingling if you don’t want to — showing up is enough.” Steve backpedals as quickly as he can.
Bucky takes one last look around the room. “And next time?”
“Tony’s request is just that we show up for 15 minutes — as long as these people can claim that they hobnobbed with the Avengers, they don’t particularly care what we do.” Steve throws one of those meat-roll thing into his mouth. “I mostly just grab the snacks and hide in the corner and count down the time.”
Bucky nods, tension easing from his shoulders, and follows Steve out of the gala, a neat two steps behind.
* * *
The Asset crawled over to where Alexander was sitting, eyes pleading. The gold chain that shimmered on its neck and linking the two golden nipple clamps complemented the gold eyeshadow that the party planners had put on it, making it look graceful despite the cum on its face and torso.
Alexander looked over at the group that the Asset had just left, and tutted gently. Three of the younger agents, who didn’t know about the rule. At least they were quick to read the dismissal in his eyes and started tucking away their cocks. The redesignation from Soldier to Asset made it more willing to accept these extra assignments without complaint, but somehow the fifteen minute rule that Alexander had made up a decade ago seemed to have been burned into its feeble mind.
“Asking for permission to stop, Asset?” Alexander reached down and unclasped the gag keeping its mouth open. Those boys really needed a proper reprimand — the silver metal of the gag did not suit the party theme at all. “Thank you for trying it for fifteen minutes.” It nodded and leaned into Alexander’s hand, so he scratches it behind the ears. He must be getting sentimental in his years, granting permission instead of saying no. Ah well. Alexander turned to the senator he was talking to. “Senator Brandt. Would you like to sample the Asset’s mouth?”
At Alexander’s slight nudge, the Asset crawled forward, revealing a glint of a gold plug between its cheeks. As the Asset worked its mouth at the senator’s fly, Alexander leaned back to enjoy the next fifteen minutes.
* * *
It’s hard to do things with Bucky when he just tends to follow two steps respectfully behind him, but at least watching movies is safe and relaxing. Well, mostly. Bucky would still default to sitting on the floor next to the couch, carefully deferential, but Steve’s discovered that if he puts a bowl of popcorn by his feet, it would be eaten by the end of the movie. He’s also put a cushion there so that it feels more officially like a seat.
Tonight, Bucky shifts in the cushion and looks up at him as the video starts. A slight lift of his eyebrows — ah, a question, then. Steve says apologetically. “We’re out of animated films, Bucky.” Over the past two months, they started with Disney, but quickly went through Japanese, French, Chinese, and Indian animated films as well. “This is a nature documentary — I figure it’d still be relaxing.” The therapist warned against watching historical documentaries, which made sense. Bucky’s eyes flicker back forward to the TV, and Steve notices that Bucky’s shoulders are now squared and leaning slightly against the couch. It’s what Steve’s begun to call Bucky’s “trying new things” pose. He really appreciates that Bucky’s willing to give anything a shot, and thus far, he seems comfortable backing out, too.
Sure enough, the hummingbird on the screen is darting between flowers when Bucky suddenly says, “I’d like to stop.”
Steve puts the video on pause, though it takes him a moment to peel his eyes away from the colors of that particular cluster of flowers — the way they seem to glow in the sunlight makes him want to paint them. Looking down, he notices Bucky’s hands clenched as fists against his torso.
“Bucky! Are you okay? If this is that upsetting, you should have said something earlier.”
Bucky shrugs, but Steve sees his fists slowly open. “No reason to stop earlier.”
Steve starts to lower himself down next to Bucky, but stops when Bucky flinches. Right. That would force Bucky to be on level with him. Instead, Steve places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Bucky, it’s totally fine to call an end to something when it’s making you uncomfortable.” Then he adds, because specificity seems to matter with Bucky, “That includes emotional discomfort. Or you can even stop because the video is boring.”
“I’m supposed to try things,” Bucky states.
“Right, and I’m really glad you do. But you can stop if you don’t like it.” Steve frowns, and adds a small concession to the way Bucky seems to ask for permission for everything. “Or, at least, speak up about your desire to stop.”
Bucky seems deep in thought, so Steve bustles around, pulling the disc out of the player and putting it in its box (Tony tells him everything is streaming nowadays, but as his foray into animation has proven, not *everything* is streaming). “Hey Buck, I’m going to go watch another couple minutes of this in my room, that okay?”
Bucky’s eyes widen slightly. “You don’t … I should…”
Oh dear, Steve seems to have broken Bucky by asking *him* for permission. “Buck. My needs don’t come before yours. It’s perfectly fine that you don’t want to watch the video.” He ticks off the options with his fingers, “I can watch it in my room. Or if you want to be around me but not see it or hear it, I can watch it on my laptop with my headphones on. And if inconveniencing me makes you feel uncomfortable, we can also do something else.” He resists squatting back down to Bucky’s level, but asks as gently as he could, “What are you most comfortable with?”
Bucky chews his lips briefly in thought. “The laptop, please?”
“Sure. You wanna do something while I do that?” Bucky considers this for a moment, then goes into his room and returns with a book.
Steve beams and sets the disc up on the laptop and puts on headphones. They spend the rest of the night quietly in each other’s company — after watching some more of the documentary, Steve pulls out a sketchbook and starts drawing some of the flowers. Bucky reads quietly at his feet, and barely registers when Steve surreptitiously slides down to sit near him.
* * *
The Asset was in-between two missions, which meant it was currently in-between Alexander’s legs, with his cock in its mouth, and explicit instructions to keep him at a state of half-erection. Alexander was glad that now that his daughter was up in New York and his wife was across town, he could actually do some private commissioning of the Asset. One of the perks of being the Asset’s handler. Rumlow might be able to do this with the Asset, too, but he didn’t have a comfortable house in Kalorama. The Asset’s little kitten licks were doing wonders for his enjoyment of this particular documentary.
This was somewhat dampened when, as clockwork, the Asset pulled his mouth off of Alexander’s cock and looked up at him with those big eyes. “Permission to stop?”
Alexander huffed a small sigh of frustration and paused the video just as they were describing the lions’ eating habits. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to deal with this constant pestering tonight. “I know you want to take a breather, Asset,” Alexander said, hooking an idle thumb on its collar. It nodded, the collar tag making a pleasant jingling sound. “And it is good that you always try for fifteen minutes.” It nodded again. He then leaned in closer, and said softly, “So, is your current task *really* something you want a break from?” The Asset’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, and Alexander gestured vaguely. “Instead of here, you could be back at the base, in your cell, or in the lab, or perhaps doing Commander Rumlow’s bidding.” The Asset blinked several times, the most it would admit to being agitated. Alexander was once again reminded of his daughter when she was young. Always offer a choice where you win: carrots or broccoli, never carrots or cake. Or, he supposed, Yale or Georgetown, not Yale or RISDE.
“Now, I’d like to watch this documentary without any further interruption.” Alexander pondered his options. “So how about if we consider this your mission tonight? You don’t ask for permission to stop when you’re on a mission, do you?” The Asset shook its head. “Let me give you clear mission parameters, then.” The Asset’s eyes sharpened. It always liked the tactics of planning out a mission. Alexander smiled indulgently. “I’d like for you to keep my cock in your mouth for the duration of the film. Afterwards, I will fuck you, and then lead you into my bedroom. You are to remain leashed to the foot of my bed until morning, when you will wake me with a proper blowjob. Your mission ends when I return you to the base for your routine training. Are you clear about the mission?” The Asset nodded in the affirmative. Alexander would probably order Rumlow terminated if he tried to use the Asset for unofficial missions, but then again, Rumlow is probably sleeping off the most recent mission in his assigned SHIELD housing, and not sitting with a good bottle of red wine in Kalorama.
Alexander pulled the Asset’s head down again and restarted the video, the Asset’s gagging noise quite a pleasant counterpoint to the dulcet tones of the narrator. It’s going to be a good evening indeed.
* * *
Handler Steve said that his needs were not more important than the Asset Bucky’s. Soldier Bucky spends some days thinking about this as it he follows Handler Steve through the usual routine. His treatment since turning himself in to the Avengers has made it very clear that he’s not an Asset anymore — Handler Steve has not assigned him any tasks that involve being used for the entertainment of others, and for that, he is grateful. He has always preferred his rank as Soldier under HYDRA, and though the Avengers preferred to refer to each other by name instead of designation, he knows he’s still the Soldier: useful in his own right, but lower in rank than anyone else in the organization, and always assigned a Handler.
Except recent observations are proving that to be false.
For one, he is no longer being used for kill missions. Handler Steve has not been very explicit about it, but it seems like his current mission is to attend “therapy sessions” where he answers questions and completed tasks between said sessions. Aside from the fact that the sessions are clearly a misnomer (he was not expected to relieve the stress of the woman who asked him questions, nor were there any scientists applying any experimental therapies on him), he has found the mission completely harmless. He is not doing harm to others, and others are not doing harm to him. Which means he was not particularly useful as the Soldier.
Perhaps "Bucky" is itself a designation. He is no longer Soldier, just as he's no longer Asset. But certainly the Bucky must be of the lowest rank and always assigned a Handler.
But Handler Steve has repeatedly stated that his needs were not more important than the Bucky’s. Several days of careful observation has bore this out. Handler Steve always eats the same meals as the Bucky. Handler Steve offers the Bucky choices for what the Bucky could do, but also offers the Bucky choices for what Handler Steve could do. The Bucky still remembers that first thrill of choosing. He had said “The laptop,” and then Handler Steve had gotten the laptop and sat down with his headphones, and then allowed the Bucky to choose an equivalent activity. Reading a book while sitting near Handler Steve was a task that the Bucky did not need to count time for.
In addition, Handler Steve always respects the Bucky’s requests to stop, applying the same reasoning to himself as to the Bucky, such as at the horrible “charity gala” (another misnomer, since there was no one on their knees and none of the guests had their genitals out). Today, when he carefully counts to fifteen minutes and requests reprieve from the hot sun, Handler Steve allows him to retreat into the shade, and even applies sunscreen to them both. It helps ease the tingling sensation on his skin, and also the memories that the heat of the sun had triggered. The Asset was in a desert, the sun hot above. Handler Rumlow was ordering it to strip. The sand chafed against its knees as it got into position. It knew it couldn’t start counting the minutes until Handler Rumlow’s cock was in its mouth.
The Bucky blinks away from those memories and looks at the other Avengers gathered at the rooftop event that seems to involve a lot of food and alcohol. They call it a “rooftop cookout”, but it seems to be as much of a misnomer as “charity gala”. Everyone is bare everywhere *except* for their genitals. The Bucky is not on his knees, nor is anyone else. There is an equality in clothing and behavior here that surprises the Bucky when he notices it. He looks at Handler Steve, then at the others.
Could it be possible that they are *all* of equal rank?
The Bucky resolves to test this over the next few days.
When he first drags his eyes to meet the visual receptors of the robot servant who cleans the common room, he is not reprimanded. Nor when he meets the eyes of the server at the diner that Handler Steve and the Bucky go to after their morning run. He then tries meeting the eyes of the therapist. Instead of a reprimand or a frown (which with Handler Alexander was as bad as a reprimand), she … smiles. So does the Hulk Bruce from across the dinner table. And so does Handler Steve, smiling as he looks between the Bucky and the Hulk Bruce.
After dinner is video watching time. Handler Steve lets the Bucky choose between a video where the narrator speaks in a voice that reminds him of all the evening missions with Handler Alexander, and a video where women in long dresses discuss their marriage prospects. The Bucky picks the latter, and then, after Handler Steve is seated, he also carefully sits down on the same couch as Handler Steve.
The expected reprimand never comes. The Bucky is not ordered to be taken away and punished. The Bucky is not immediately ordered back to the floor. Instead, Handler Steve smiles and welcomes him, and knocks shoulders in a way indicating camaraderie before turning on the video. The Bucky finds his own lips curling up slightly, as well.
It might be likely that the Bucky is of equal rank to Handler Steve.
Which leaves the final aspect of being the Soldier, which was that he is always assigned a Handler. It’s very likely that Handler Steve is of equal rank to the Bucky, but even if other roles and designations don’t matter, the Handler one must surely remain. The Handler is the one who assigns missions and tasks. The Handler is the one who can grant permission to stop. The Handler speaks for him and decides for him.
Emboldened by the lack of reprimand thus far, the Bucky resolves to test this, as well. If Handler Steve asks, he could always say that it’s a misunderstanding of Handler Steve’s instructions. Punishments for misunderstandings are always lighter, as long as they are not repeated.
The next day, the Bucky waits to minute fifteen, and then asks the Iron Man Tony for permission to stop his arm experiments. The Iron Man Tony frowns and says a lot of words, but releases him without checking in with Handler Steve. The relief from the pain of experimentation and the surprise at having his request approved leaves him giddy until lunchtime. The Bucky tries again in the afternoon, when he asks the Hulk Bruce for permission to cease the “meditation” activity and leave the small alcove of incense smells. (It took slightly longer than fifteen minutes for him to pull his mind from the memory of killing civilians in a Cambodian temple, but the Hulk Bruce had his eyes closed and did not notice.) The Hulk Bruce said yes immediately.
As they leave the scented alcove and the Bucky takes a breath of fresh air, he wonders wildly: if non-Handlers can grant permission, then what else is left to try?
He can try asking for things. The thought scares him and thrills him in equal parts. It’s one thing to choose between options offered by the Handler, but quite another to request things outside of those bounds. That is Not Allowed. The Bucky knows this down to his bones, drilled in so deeply that it has persisted beyond any wipe.
Then again, making eye contact was also Not Allowed, but he has been doing it without any reprimand.
The Bucky spends the next day asking for things. He asks for a different food option for breakfast. He asks for a different route on the morning run. He asks to sit at a different chair for lunch. He asks to reschedule his therapy appointment. He asks for more books. He asks for a different video in the evening. And with every request, Handler Steve smiles as he complies.
Maybe Handler Steve isn’t a Handler at all.
The Bucky resolves to make the most outrageous request of all.
* * *
Steve is only half paying attention to the movie, choosing instead to sneak glances at Bucky. He’s come so far in the past month, Steve can’t help grinning. Steve doesn’t know what changed, but after months of Bucky silently trailing after Steve, he’s now sitting next to him, speaking to the other Avengers and even actively asking for things! For example, tonight, he asked for yet another Jane Austen movie. They’re not Steve’s favorite, but they struck a deal where they alternate between Steve’s preferences and Bucky’s.
They’re only ten or so minutes in (one of the young women is bemoaning her marriage prospects), when Bucky abruptly shifts to look at Steve. (Looking Steve in the eye has also been a new development, and Steve feels a thrill run down his spine every time.) “I’d like to stop watching the movie.”
Steve presses pause. “What’s wrong? Do you not like this one?”
Bucky pauses, a flash of regret in his eyes. Then he musters and says, “It’s fine. I may choose to continue it next time it is my turn to choose.” At Steve’s nod, Bucky squares his shoulders and says, “I have a question.”
That’s the face that Bucky’s been using when he’s about to request something. Steve hasn’t seen him quite this nervous before, though — his eyes are a tiny bit wider than usual. Given the way that Bucky has been escalating his requests, it’s probably something immensely impractical. Steve stops the movie and turns off the TV, then turns to Bucky and tries to look open and accepting.
“I’d like to hug you.”
“Of course, Buck.” Steve wraps Bucky in a hug, mind lurching at the simple request. Why would a hug feel transgressive to Bucky? When was the last time Bucky got a hug? Is it a good thing that Bucky feels like he can ask for this, or a bad thing that Bucky feels like he has to ask? Bucky’s body is still stiff against Steve, so Steve puts a tight rein on his wandering thoughts and tries to put as much into the hug as he can, and he feels his own body loosening with the touch. As Bucky slowly relaxes in to the hug, Steve briefly wonders how long it’s been seen he himself had gotten a hug.
Finally, after several minutes, Bucky stirs, and Steve pulls back to a suitable distance. “Good?”
Bucky nods, eyes a little dazed and cheeks slightly flushed. Steve wonders if he looks the same way, breathless from a single hug. “Anything else?”
Bucky’s eyes sharpen with fresh determination. “I’d like a kiss.” He pauses, then clarifies. “On the lips.”
Steve feels himself blushing. “Bucky, I… you…” He shakes his head — now’s not the time to reminisce about the past, or what it would mean for Steve to be able to kiss Bucky again. He needs to give Bucky a chance to explain. Steve gathers himself and tries again. “What does a kiss like that mean to you?”
Bucky’s eyebrows draw together into a tiny frown. “I’ve observed people do it with others, and I have no memory of doing it myself.” He sits slightly more upright. “My mouth has not been used that way and I’d like to experience it.”
There’s something that Bucky isn’t telling him, a sly twist to his lips that means that it means something more. But all Steve can do at this point is be honest.
“Bucky, for me, a kiss means…” Steve pauses, trying to find the right words without making it sound like he’s expecting anything due to their shared past. “It means I care about the person, very deeply. It also means that I’m romantically attracted to that person, as something more than friendship.” Steve takes a deep breath and tries to not think about the last time he kissed Bucky, three years ago (or was it 70?). “I’d love to kiss you, but you need to know what it means for me. Are you okay with that?”
Bucky ponders for a moment. “I’ve seen kissing as a prelude to sex. Is that what it would mean for you?”
Steve’s mouth is dry. He didn’t expect Bucky to move so quickly, and a part of him is still uncertain whether Bucky even understands this. But he can only work with what Bucky’s told him. If Bucky were still sitting on the floor instead of on the couch, if Bucky hadn’t been making requests, Steve wouldn’t lay this on Bucky, but … “If that is something that *you* want, then, yes, I’d be … um… up for that.”
Bucky’s eyes flicker up and down Steve’s body, as if he’s assessing a mission target. Then his eyes land back on Steve’s face. “I can try.”
Not the most ringing endorsement, but Steve leans in carefully, ready to stop at any moment.
The kiss starts tentatively — Steve has not kissed anyone since, well, Peggy, and Bucky seems equally foreign to the idea. However, after a few chaste brushing of the lips, Bucky opens his mouth a bit wider, and Steve tentatively licks into it. Bucky’s eyes grow slightly wider in surprise, but then reciprocates. This leads Steve to tentatively put his hands around Bucky, and, oh, Bucky is leaning into him. Steve takes a breath and dives in for another kiss, while running his hands down Bucky’s arm and up his back and then under his shirt, all while sucking on Bucky’s gorgeous lips…. when suddenly Bucky’s body stiffens for a brief moment. Steve immediately pulls back, breaking his kiss and putting his hands up.
“You stopped.” Bucky blinks in bafflement, lips still red from their kiss.
Steve is struggling to even his breathing. “You were into it but then you suddenly you weren’t.” Steve tries to remember what he was doing. “Was it when I grazed your nipples? Or was the kiss too much?”
“The kissing was good.” Bucky’s eyebrows are knitted in the faintest of frowns, which is the most Steve’s ever seen Bucky’s face move. “You stopped. Because you observed that I didn’t like an aspect of touching.” Steve nods. Bucky turns his eyes to Steve, a sense of loss and confusion in them. “But I haven’t tried it for fifteen minutes yet.”
“Fifteen minutes?”
Bucky’s eyes flicker in uncertainty. “That’s the rule, right?” His eyes settle on Steve’s shoulder. “If I want something to stop, I wait fifteen minutes before requesting permission.”
Steve doesn’t know whether to cry or to punch something. His mind is quickly recontextualizing all of their interactions for the past months — Bucky eating three pieces of pizza before asking to stop. All the times that Bucky spoke up mid-activity. It made a sick sort of sense, for HYDRA to make this rule. It put the burden of responsibility on Bucky, while still retaining their ability to say no to Bucky’s requests. Or hell, even something as simple as starting a new activity at the end of the fifteen minutes. To think that Bucky has clung to this fifteen minute rule all this time, the small semblance of choice, all while the likes of Rumlow and Pierce were circumventing it.
Steve takes Bucky’s shoulders, and tries to meet Bucky’s skittering eyes. “Bucky, if you want something to stop, you don’t have to wait. I never want to hurt you. Neither does anyone else here.”
Bucky slowly looks up at Steve. His throat bobs, and his eyes are clear. “I’m beginning to see that.”
Steve finds himself breaking into a big smile. “Permission to hug and kiss you?”
Bucky’s lips twitch briefly. “Just a hug. Nothing else, for now.”
Steve nods solemnly, then leans in for a hug.
* * *
As the Bucky wraps his arms around Handler Steve, he thinks the most transgressive thought yet: if he isn’t the Soldier, and Steve isn’t a Handler, maybe there’s no such thing as handlers at all.