[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.

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[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.

[from_the_outside]

She makes a soft sound and parts her lips to kiss him more deeply, simmering want racing through her veins. His arm feels so good around her, and the taste of his mouth is so addictive. All she wants is to lose herself in this moment and this kiss, pressing herself to him with her arms wound around his neck.

[nerves_of_ice]

He groans against her mouth as she makes that small noise, as she presses her long, lean, curvy body to his, and plunges his fingers into her hair as he angles her head and kisses her back with rising passion, tightening his arm around her.

[from_the_outside]

A lurch of desire rockets through her as he buries his hand in her hair, as he kisses her so deeply she feels like she’s drowning in it, or about to catch flame.

It seems impossible that the woods around them are so quiet; it feels like fire should be licking at their feet. Every touch is electric, each kiss only making her want one more. “Bucky,” she murmurs, when this one breaks, and tries to catch her breath.

[nerves_of_ice]

He wrenches himself back under control at the sound of his name, even as it sends another sharp flash of desire singing through his veins. “Sharon,” he whispers back. “Sharon.”

Bucky forces himself to take his arm from around her, his hand from her hair, and puts his hands lightly on her arms. He trails his fingers down to her wrists, then takes gentle hold and brings her hands together in front of him. He presses a kiss to each of her palms and looks up at her, his gaze nearly searing in its intensity, did he but know it.

[from_the_outside]

She licks at her bottom lip and takes a deep breath of the cool air, feeling her hands tremble as he takes them, as he presses a sweet kiss to each of her palms. When he looks back up at her, she smiles, sweet and slight, then huffs a laugh. “You’ve got - “

She tugs one hand free and runs her thumb over his bottom lip, where she can clearly see a smudge of her lipstick. “This red is really a very fetching shade on you.”

[nerves_of_ice]

He laughs at that, soft and low. “I just bet. Here, let’s see—“

Bucky digs in a pocket and comes up with a clean handkerchief. Before he wipes his own lips, he puts his fingers under her chin and tips her face up to the sky. “Let me,” he murmurs, dabbing with a corner of the cloth at a lipstick smudge, then running his thumb gently over her lips to even out the color that remains.

[from_the_outside]

She can’t resist; as he runs his thumb along her lip, am she opens her mouth to bite lightly at it. “Told you,” she murmurs, her hands falling to his shoulders.

“Not much of a lady.”

[nerves_of_ice]

“You are to me,” he tells her, even as a sharp shiver runs through him.

[from_the_outside]

She smiles at that, then lifts his hand to press a kiss to his palm, the mirror of what he’d done earlier.

“Like I said,” she murmurs. “Sweet.”

[nerves_of_ice]

He smiles back, then closes his fingers over the kiss as if to catch it and brings his hand to his chest before he lets go and turns his attention to wiping his mouth free of her lipstick.

[from_the_outside]

“That’s better,” she tells him, after he’s scrubbed his mouth clean, and smiles up at him.

“Don’t want to get you in trouble.”

[nerves_of_ice]

“I’m not afraid of a little trouble,” he teases. Bucky folds his handkerchief and puts it back in his pocket.

“But I definitely don’t want to get you in any trouble, either, so it’s just as well.”

[from_the_outside]

She presses her lips together, then smiles again.

“Too bad, though,” she points out. “We’re all cleaned up, so I guess that means no more kisses tonight.”

[nerves_of_ice]

“Hm.” He looks thoughtful. While he considers that, he takes a small step closer and brushes his fingers through her hair, carefully and deliberately trying to set its waves back in order so she doesn’t look mussed.

Once done, Bucky rests his hands on her shoulders and smiles down at her. “Maybe not tonight, but I’ll hope you’ll let me walk out with you again.”

[from_the_outside]

“Believe me when I say I don’t want this to be a one time thing,” she murmurs, and lets her hands rest at his hips.

“I’d like that.”

[nerves_of_ice]

His smile brightens like sunshine. “I’d like that, too,” he assures her. “But for now, I’d better get you back.”

[from_the_outside]

“Third times the charm,” she tells him, amused.

It’s not what she wants — what she wants is to kiss him until she’s dizzy with it, to feel how his skin feels beneath her fingers —

But it’s 1944. And she’s already pushed enough for one night. “All right, Sergeant. Let’s go.”

[nerves_of_ice]

He cups his hands gently on either side of her face and gives her a quick, butterfly-light kiss before he steps back and offers her his arm again, his manner perfectly polite but with laughter in his eyes.

[from_the_outside]

She laughs and slips her hand back into the crook of his arm, then leans her head briefly against his shoulder, allowing herself a breath of a moment of vulnerability before she straightens once more.

“I think just back to my quarters,” she tells him. “To answer your question.”

A beat. “From fifteen minutes ago.”

[nerves_of_ice]

“Then back to your quarters it is,” he murmurs. The way she’d rested her head against his shoulder for a moment sends a twinge of soft feeling through him.

He wants to make her smile, make her laugh, make her forget all her troubles if he can.

“I’ll see you safe home, Agent.”

He means it in more than one way, whether or not she realizes it.

[from_the_outside]

“Thank you, Sergeant.”

She’s never been someone who needs a man with her to feel safe, but walking with him she has to admit: she does feel safe. Less so physically than in other ways, maybe.

It seems like he understands her, and she hasn’t had that for a long time.

[nerves_of_ice]

It’s really not all that far to the edge of the trees, but he takes it slow, wanting her not to have any uncertainty with her footing - and not in any particular rush to end this night, either.

Bucky escorts her solicitously down the slope and to level ground, then turns in the direction of her tent.

[from_the_outside]

It's nice to stroll slowly along the path with him in companionable quiet, the memory of his kisses still warm on her lips. The camp is calm and still; she can hear distant music and laughter from the pub, but she has no desire to go.

Not tonight, not after everything that just happened.

They're nearing her tent when a brisk-walking figure turns the corner; spotting them, it shifts direction to intercept, revealing itself as Aunt Peggy a moment later. She gives Bucky a narrow-eyed, studying glance, then looks to Sharon. "Well," she says. "And where are you two coming from?"