[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

[from_the_outside]

"Good."

She tugs his hair gently to coax him to tip his head so she can work around to the other side of his throat, like he'd done to her earlier. "I want to give you what you want."

[nerves_of_ice]

He willingly follows her lead, letting his head fall back and to the other side as she kisses his throat, trembling with want and with the effort of self-restraint.

"You are," he breathes. "Oh god, baby, believe me, you are."

[from_the_outside]

"Good," she murmurs, running her hand down to his chest to settle it once more over his heart.

He's shaking against her, his hands trembling at her waist, and it makes her slow down, ruthless, as she works her way up the line of his racing pulse toward his ear once more. She bites at it, then kisses his cheek and coaxes him to face her once more so she can kiss his mouth, deep and sweet.

[nerves_of_ice]

He returns her kiss instantly, deep and passionate and wanting, as he wraps both arms around her and pulls her flush against him.

Bucky kisses her again and again, drowning in her.

[from_the_outside]

She makes a small sound and wraps her arms around his neck, then kisses him again and smiles at him, mischievous.

"Still think I'm going to change my mind?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"You could," he manages, finding a gasp of a laugh. "So I better not give you any reason to."

With that, he kisses her again.

[from_the_outside]

She kisses him back and then leans teasingly away.

"I don't know," she says, mock-thoughtfully. "Dating around, could be kind of fun..."

[nerves_of_ice]

She's teasing him and he knows it, but feels compelled all the same to point out, "It is, and you could. It's your choice, angel."

This time the kiss he gives her is much gentler, and very sweet. "I'll take whatever time you give me and be glad of it."

[from_the_outside]

She cradles his head in her hands and kisses him back, sweet and almost chaste.

"It's your choice, too," she murmurs. "But I like spending my time with you."

[nerves_of_ice]

And time's the thing, isn't it - his time, her time, set decades apart and impossible to bring together outside of these stolen moments. She could be gone in an instant in the same blue flash of light that brought her. He knows it'll happen, and he's already tried to accept it. He just doesn't know when or how, but they'll find a way to get her home, and then he'll never see her again.

Knowing that, how can he even try to resist this connection between them? How can he waste even a single precious second of what they have?

Bucky shakes his head at her, and keeps an arm around her as he cups her face with his other hand, stroking his thumb lightly over her cheek.

"My time is yours," he says, softly. "All of it that you want."

[from_the_outside]

She breathes out, shaky, and leans her head into his gentle touch. "Good," she whispers. "I don't want to spend it with anyone else."

Not the free moments she gets. Even though she knows it's her duty to spend every waking second trying to get back, knowing that Fury is probably working day and night to bring her home.

She wants to steal a few of those seconds, and spend them with him, because none of this can last and that makes it all so much more precious than she's ever believed possible.

[nerves_of_ice]

He brushes his thumb over her cheek once more while he searches her face, his eyes dark and the look in them soft, then slides his hand into her hair and leans down to give her a sweet, lingering kiss.

[from_the_outside]

Three days. Three days is all it took to fall head over heels for Bucky Barnes, and she guesses Aunt Peggy had it right; he really is irresistible. Not that she's tried very hard.

How could she? Why would she? When he's so sweet and thoughtful and fun to be around, when his touch sends fire through her veins and his kisses make her want to melt in his arms, why would she want to resist?

She kisses him back, her hands curved at the sides of his neck, her thumbs tracing lightly over his jaw. If she's going to break her own damn heart, she's going to do it right.

[nerves_of_ice]

He kisses her gently but thoroughly, lingering over her taste and the feel of her mouth, lost in the warmth of her and the touch of her hands.

When it breaks, he tips his forehead against hers and gathers her into his arms, holding her close while a fragile quiet settles around them.

"It's the last thing I want to do," he murmurs, eventually, "but I should see you back. You've got a big day tomorrow."

[from_the_outside]

She huffs a breath and shakes her head, but not enough to dislodge his forehead from against hers. "You're full of 'shoulds'," she teases, gently.

He's right and she knows it, but she doesn't want this moment to end yet, either. "Just hold me for another minute, first."

[nerves_of_ice]

"As long as you want," he promises, softly, his arms tightening around her.

[from_the_outside]

She smiles at that and kisses him lightly, then shifts to rest her head on his shoulder. "Careful," she murmurs. "Or I'll keep you out here all night."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I wouldn't mind." He leans his head against hers and glances up at the sky through the canopy of branches over head.

[from_the_outside]

She makes a soft noise and closes her eyes, letting herself drift in the warmth of his embrace, breathing in his scent and feeling him steady against her. Opening her eyes again, she blinks and focuses on his neck, then huffs a laugh as she reaches up to rub at a lipstick smudge with her thumb.

"You're going to go through about a million handkerchiefs, at this rate."

[nerves_of_ice]

He chuckles. "They'll wash. And maybe I can talk Becky into sending me a few more."

He smiles a little, thinking of the likely reaction to that request.

"She's going to be wildly curious about you, you know."

[from_the_outside]

Sharon laughs. It's silent, but shakes her body against his. "I bet she will be," she says, amused. "Unless you regularly let strange women write notes to her in your letters home."

[nerves_of_ice]

He runs a hand lightly up and down her back. "You're not that strange," he teases. "And no. You're the first."

[from_the_outside]

"I am to her," she points out, amused. "Doubly so if I'm the first who's gotten to do that. She's going to think you lost your mind."

[nerves_of_ice]

"You're the first," he repeats. "And she won't think I'm crazy. She'll just ask all kinds of questions."

[from_the_outside]

"Who is Sharon Carter?" she wonders, teasing him, her hand slipping down to his chest. "Why is she writing to me? How do you know her?"