[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]

"Well, I wouldn't want to assume," he murmurs, looking down at her and smiling back. She's so close, it's intoxicating. Bucky raises his free hand and slowly reaches to brush her hair back over her shoulder.

[from_the_outside]

That smile of his goes to her head faster and more strongly than any alcohol ever could. She tips her head slightly as he brushes her hair back, watching him. "Of course not," she murmurs.

"You're a gentleman."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Are you sure about that?"

With deliberate care, he runs his fingers through loose golden curls, otherwise keeping himself ruthlessly in check.

[from_the_outside]

"Reasonably sure." More than anyone she's ever known, that's for damn certain, 1940's sensibilities or not.

Her breath catches in her chest as he runs his fingers through her hair, and her fingers tighten in his. "Mostly a gentleman, anyway."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Mostly's good enough." He can feel his blood heat at her soft gasp, at the way her hand grips his. "I don't think I can be a better man than that."

He traces his thumb lightly back and forth over the inside of her wrist.

[from_the_outside]

"That's okay."

She shivers as he caresses the inside of her wrist and shifts a little closer. "I'm fine with 'mostly'."

Reaching up, she carefully traces the wave of his hair, tucking back a small lock that had started to fall out of place.

[nerves_of_ice]

He tips his head slightly into her fingers as his eyes darken with want at the feel of her gentle touch. Bucky draws a deep breath and makes himself pull his own hand out of her hair, resting it on her shoulder instead.

"Sharon," he whispers.

[from_the_outside]

A jolt goes through her stomach at the sound of her name on his lips. “Bucky,” she murmurs.

He tips his head, and she lets herself take the silent invitation, tracing feather-light fingers down over his temple before her hand settles on his arm. “I really enjoyed dancing with you tonight.”

[nerves_of_ice]

A small shiver runs through him at her gentle caress. “I did, too.”

His voice is low and warm. He can’t look away from her, lost in her eyes, his glance tracing the shape of her face, then resting on the curve of her mouth.

[from_the_outside]

Her eyes go dark and her breath comes a little faster as his eyes track down toward her mouth, and she bites unconsciously at her bottom lip, wetting it with the tip of her tongue. She wonders when the last time was that she wanted someone this badly.

Maybe never. "I'm glad," she murmurs, her fingers curling lightly into the fabric of his sleeve.

[nerves_of_ice]

A low, rough sound escapes him as she bites her lip, his hand tightening on her shoulder before he catches himself.

They’re in the middle of the field. Anyone could walk by, but he can’t make himself pull away from her.

[from_the_outside]

The sound he makes spears straight into her stomach and knots there, and her fingers tighten in his. If this were her time, she wouldn't waste a second, would just press up and sink her fingers into his hair and kiss him like she's been dying to do all evening.

But it's not her time, and she doesn't want to push him too far past his comfort level.

"If you felt like kissing me again," she tells him, her voice low, "you can. Blanket permission."

[nerves_of_ice]

Her sweet offer nearly brings him to his knees with the wave of desire that washes through him. He’s only a man, and he’d dare any man to resist that gift.

Bucky slides his hand up from her shoulder to curve around the nape of her neck. “Oh, I do, angel,” he assures her as he leans down, his breath warm against her lips for an instant. “Believe me, I do.”

He kisses her, slow and deep and sweet.

[from_the_outside]

Relief ricochets through her, followed swiftly by a rush of pure want that makes her weak in the knees. She makes a soft sound against his mouth and lifts her hand from his arm to curve it gently at the back of his head, fingers sinking into his soft hair as she kisses him back with her heart pounding in her ears.

[nerves_of_ice]

She makes a little sound and shifts closer, her hand sliding into his hair, and he can’t stop himself from tangling his fingers in the silken gold of hers and tilting her head back as he kisses her again and then again.

[from_the_outside]

She untangles her fingers from his and sets her hand on his waist, breathless from his kisses and only wanting more. When the next kiss breaks she takes a breath, then pushes herself up on her toes and kisses him again, with rising passion.

[nerves_of_ice]

He puts his arm around her, his hand on her back, and coaxes her closer as she presses up to him. Bucky traces her lips with his tongue as he kisses her again, teasing her even as he has to fight himself not to pull her against him and sink into her.

[from_the_outside]

She huffs a breath of laughter as he teases her, then bites lightly at his lower lip like she'd done her own. Her hand slips from his waist to his back, fingers curling into fabric as she kisses his mouth again, then the corner of it, then the angle of his jaw and the side of his neck, amused at the lipstick prints she leaves on his skin.

[nerves_of_ice]

He groans aloud, his head falling back to give her access.

“Sharon, baby, god—-“

He scans the field, but there’s no sign of anyone. Still, if anyone should pass by—-

“Come over here, under the tree,” he coaxes, “don’t stop, baby, just come with me.”

[from_the_outside]

"I won't," she promises. He calls her baby and it sizzles into her stomach along with the groan that tugs out of his throat. "I don't want to stop."

But she lets him coax her slowly towards the tree, kissing him step by step until the spreading branches above them blot out the stars. "Bucky," she murmurs, kissing his throat. "Bucky."

[nerves_of_ice]

They’re sheltered in the shadows, as much as they can be, and he lets himself skim his hands along her shoulders, down her arms and back up again, then wraps both arms around her and pulls her close.

“Baby,” he murmurs. “Sharon. God, you’re beautiful.”

[from_the_outside]

"You drive me crazy," she tells him, and reaches up to put her arms around his neck as he embraces her, pulling herself as close as she can as she kisses him, deep and drowning. "Handsome man."

[nerves_of_ice]

“Do I?” He laughs, soft and low, and kisses her again, letting his own rising passion show in the way he draws her closer still and runs one hand up her back to plunge into her hair, tasting her mouth with each deep, intoxicating kiss.

“Look who’s talking.”

[from_the_outside]

"Completely."

She must be crazy, because all of this has to be the stupidest thing she's ever done. She can't get emotionally involved with a man who lived seventy years before her time, even if she didn't already know what happens to him.

She's setting herself up for a broken heart, but she can't seem to stop. All she can do is kiss him back, thrilling to his fingers in her hair and his mouth on hers.

[nerves_of_ice]

“Well, in that case—“

He takes a split second to wipe her lipstick from his mouth with the back of his hand, then kisses her cheek, the spot behind her jaw, and nibbles gently along the curve of her ear as he breathes, “Let me see if I can make it up to you.”