[WWII AU] a brand new day

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky wakes in the predawn darkness, long before reveille would normally be called. He spends a few minutes reviewing the mission in his head before he rolls from his cot; there's no room to think about anything else. He meets Steve and the rest of the Howling Commandos at five-fifteen. As planned, they're on the move before the hour has passed.

It's a long day, a hard day, but in the end a successful day, for the most part. The hidden facility carved into the hillside is no more when they leave, HYDRA's agents defeated, their stockpiles destroyed. But there's still no sign of Schmidt, nor of Zola, and that remains incredibly frustrating.

Still, there's reason to celebrate today's win, and the squad's more or less exuberant on their return, some fourteen or so hours later. Steve disappears into the command tent to debrief with Colonel Phillips; Bucky'll catch up with him afterward, as usual. He spends a few minutes trading quips with the others before disappearing to weapons storage to see to his own rifle - also as usual. Something about taking care of it helps him feel like he's cleaning the blood off his own hands.

After that, he finds he's too restless to settle yet, and figures it's not the best idea for him to be around others until he sorts himself out. Bucky wanders along the edge of camp in the dark, then veers from the path and off into the field where he'd spent some time watching the stars only a couple of days ago.

It should be peaceful there, more or less.

Comments

[nerves_of_ice]

"Okay," he decides. She's smiling, so it's probably a good thing. Probably. "If you say so."

Bucky smiles back at her. "I'm really glad I ran into you tonight."

[from_the_outside]

"So am I."

It's impossible that she's walking here, arm in arm with Bucky Barnes, and that he's saying all these things and meaning them, but is it really any more impossible than time travel is in the first place? "Best part of my day."

[nerves_of_ice]

“Mine too,” he assures her.

The trees grow a little thicker up ahead, but he knows that past that they’ll open up quickly as they descend the little hill. He glances over at her.

“Where am I taking you?”

[from_the_outside]

Her eyebrows lift at that question, which he asks so innocently.

"Is that the 1940's version of 'your place or mine'?" she teases.

[nerves_of_ice]

“What?” It hits him, then, and he laughs in amused surprise even as he protests, “No, I just meant - I didn’t know if you wanted to go back to your quarters, or to the pub, or to see your aunt or something.”

He draws them to a stop and looks down at her in the dappled shadow of the trees, his gaze earnest. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

[from_the_outside]

Looks like her teasing hit harder than she meant it to. "It's okay," she says, trying to assure him. "I'm not insulted. Seriously."

She looks back up at him, studying the sincerity in his expression. "You've been a complete gentleman. I shouldn't tease you."

[nerves_of_ice]

The quick flash of his smile is bright in the dim light. “I like it when you tease me,” he tells her. “It’s fun. I just didn’t want you to think badly of me.”

He hesitates, then raises his hand to brush her hair back from her face, slow and deliberate, ready to stop if she protests in any way at all. “But I’m not a complete gentleman.”

[from_the_outside]

"I don't," she promises. "I don't think badly of you at all. I like you."

But then he lifts his hand and her breath catches in her chest like a fish on a hook. "No?" she murmurs, tipping her head into his touch and watching him with warm dark eyes. "Well, that's not so bad. I'm not much of a lady."

[nerves_of_ice]

She tilts her head into his hand and he feels his heartbeat accelerate. Bucky touches her again, this time slowly drawing his fingers through the waves of her hair.

“You seem like quite the lovely lady to me,” he murmurs.

[from_the_outside]

"Novelty," she whispers, but she's not sure even she believes it anymore. His fingers run through her hair and a frisson of warmth shudders down into her stomach. Carefully, she sets her hands against his chest, palms flat and fingers light on the material of his uniform.

[nerves_of_ice]

She can feel the race of his heart, he’s sure of it. His eyes are dark and intent as he searches her face.

“Will you let me kiss you?”

[from_the_outside]

"Oh, god."

It comes out groaned, like a reflex, like she's been hit in the stomach. Her fingers tighten against fabric. "If you don't, I'm going to explode."

[nerves_of_ice]

He laughs at that, soft and quick, as he slides his fingers into her hair and curves them around the back of her neck, tilting her head up. “We can’t have that,” he murmurs, and sets his other hand at her waist as he leans down.

He kisses her sweetly, slow and lingering, taking his time about it as he enjoys the feel of her mouth against his.

[from_the_outside]

She breathes in once, sharply, then slides a hand up to curve at his neck as he leans down to her. His mouth is warm and sweet and she can feel this kiss all the way from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

She kisses him back, as sweetly as she knows how, melting into his taste and touch and the warm solidity of him against her.

[nerves_of_ice]

A small shiver runs through him at the touch of her hand on his neck. He breaks the kiss long enough for them to breathe, then kisses her again.

[from_the_outside]

A soft sound escapes her as he kisses her again, and she threads her fingers up through the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck, marveling at being allowed, at being wanted.

She presses herself a little closer, her heart racing.

[nerves_of_ice]

She shifts closer to him, warm and soft, and he’s only human, after all. His arm goes around her waist, holding her, and he keeps kissing her, sweet, lazy, lingering kisses.

He has to stop. They have to stop, and he will. Soon. After just another kiss, or maybe two.

[from_the_outside]

He kisses her and kisses her and kisses her again, sweet and lingering, his arm warm around her waist and in her hair. Her arms slip up around his neck as he holds her close, and she kisses him back over and over, losing herself in the feel of his mouth and the sound of his breath, her own heart beating like a drum.

[nerves_of_ice]

He groans deep in his chest as she winds her arms around his neck and kisses her one last time before he makes himself pull back a little. Bucky tips his forehead against hers and just holds her, his breathing ragged and unsteady.

[from_the_outside]

Her breath comes fast and light and her eyes are closed. When she finally manages to open them to look back at him, they’re dark and intent.

She just breathes for a moment, her forehead nudged against his, and curves her hand gently at the back of his head.

[nerves_of_ice]

He smiles at the feel of her touch, at the way she looks at him, his own glance just as intent. "There you are," he murmurs.

[from_the_outside]

“Right here.”

In this moment, there’s nowhere else she’d rather be; not even back in her own time. Her fingers toy lightly with his hair, and she smiles back up at him. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

[nerves_of_ice]

He chuckles. "Not sure I've been called that before."

[from_the_outside]

“There’s a first time for everything.”

But he is: impossible. Sweet and funny and somehow wanting her back.

And impossible. She can’t stay here, can’t make this real. It’s hard enough already. She should never have let him kiss her.

But she doesn’t want him to stop. “Kiss me again.”

[nerves_of_ice]

The look in his eyes shifts, becoming darker and more intense with how much he wants.

Kiss her again? He could no more say no to that sweet request than he could stop breathing. "Gladly," Bucky murmurs, and leans down to do so. He kisses her sweetly, lingering, then nips gently at her lower lip the way she had before, coaxing her to let him deepen the kiss - if she'll allow, and only then.