ready to comply

[semi_stable]

[cw: descriptions of a panic attack, mentions of PTSD]


Things have been going very well for Bucky as of late, so it's no real surprise when he's suddenly knocked on his ass again. That's how it goes, after all. That's his story. That's how it always goes.

This time, all he's doing is walking down the street. He's smiling, almost even laughing, sipping at an iced coffee. He's talking with a friend, gesturing with his prosthetic hand, ungloved and visible to anyone who looks at him, and anyone who did wouldn't even be able to tell how broken he is.

Because he is broken. He always will be in some way or another. His brain was taken apart and put back together over and over again, scrambled and reformed, and he'll never be healed from that, not completely. Not to mention all the trauma and abuse, decades of it, and he can have a few good months but he'll never be totally free.

This is proven to him as he's walking past some sort of street fair out in front of his building. It's noisy, with people milling about and several different radios tuned to different stations drowning each other out. They suddenly all go quiet, music and talking replaced with an eerie, quiet static.

Longing.

The word makes Bucky go still, face draining of color. It's a low, commanding male voice speaking in Russian, and Bucky feels a little like he might throw up.

Rusted.

It's coming from every radio, even one from a car passing by, windows rolled down to take advantage of the nice day. It's coming from everywhere and Bucky's coffee falls from his hand, plastic cracking as it breaks against the pavement. "No."

Furnace.

"No, no, no, please," Bucky pleads in Russian, reaching up to put his hands over his ears. It's so unexpected to hear his trigger words that he forgets for a moment that he's supposed to have been cured of them, rewired during his time in Wakanda. But then he remembers, and it doesn't help. Whoever is behind this place has proven how powerful they are, and who's to say that they didn't undo that, too?

Daybreak.

It's getting louder now, more forceful, and Bucky lets out a panicked shout as he stumbles backwards, breathing heavily and shaking his head. He's flooded so suddenly with adrenaline, like ice water being dumped over his head, and he can hear his heart beating. Air gets stuck in his chest and he can't breathe, and while he recognizes the signs of a panic attack, he can't seem to make it stop. He's too terrified of what might be about to happen to do anything but panic.

Seventeen.

"No, no, not again," he chokes out, turning to run into the lobby of his building to try and get away from it, only to find that they're playing in there too, pumping tinnily out of a speaker in the corner. He chokes out a sob and sinks to the floor, pushing himself back into a corner and covering his ears. Someone follows after him and Bucky holds out his hand. "Stop! Stay back."

Benign.

There are four more. Only four more words until Bucky finds out of the switch in his brain will be flipped, if he'll climb to his feet and stand at attention. Four more words until this city finds out if the Winter Soldier is ready to comply.





[Help him. Have your pup be the person he was walking with and/or the one who finds him in the lobby. Despite his fears, the trigger words will not do anything because he's still cured, but he's still going through one hell of a PTSD episode.]

Comments

[semi_stable]

"Well, we don't know how she feels," Bucky replies with a chuckle, exhaling in relief when Loki tugs him in closer. He knows that Sylvie cares about him, that what they feel for each other goes beyond friendship, beyond sex, but love? He thinks that he might have loved them for a while now, that he's helpless to it, but he wouldn't have guessed that they loved him.

"Does this mean that you're gonna stay the night and not be a bitch about it?" Bucky teases, shifting closer until he's practically in Loki's lap. "Because I'd like that. The you not being a bitch part, specifically."

[thewrongpath]

"We'll see," Loki agreed, because he certainly couldn't claim to have full knowledge of the inner workings of Sylvie's mind, despite their origins.

"I've always been a bit of a bitch, and it's never seemed to bother you before," Loki pointed out, leaning back against the couch and tugging Bucky the rest of the way into his lap. "I'll behave," he conceded, his head tipped against the back of the couch, his hands resting comfortably on Bucky's hips.

[semi_stable]

"Oh, it bothers me sometimes," Bucky teases, allowing himself to be pulled into Loki's lap. It still amazes him sometimes, both how Loki can move him as if he's lighter than air, and how much he doesn't always seem to mind it. "But you have other redeemable qualities."

He reaches out to put one hand on the back of the sofa, leaning over Loki a little. He opens his mouth and then closes it, hesitating only slightly before lowering his head to press a kiss to Loki's mouth. It's a first kiss of sorts, in a ridiculously sentimental sort of way, but Bucky still lingers in it, reaching up to put his other hand on the side of Loki's face.

[thewrongpath]

Bucky's mouth opened, and Loki frowned curiously when he seemed to think better of it, leaning down instead to steal a kiss.

The kiss was sweet, almost tentative, and Loki allowed Bucky to set the pace of it, remaining soft and pliant under Bucky's warm hands. His lips parted only when coaxed, and while his hands slid up the length of Bucky's back, it was with no pressing urgency.

[semi_stable]

The kiss goes on for a long time, soft and languid, tongues meeting with a relaxed sort of ease. Bucky leans into it, physically and emotionally, wanting all the stress and pain of the day to be washed away by this feeling of safety and security. Eventually, when his lips tingle and his lungs ache, he pulls back enough to let out a hot, shaky breath against Loki's mouth.

"I think I'm in love with you, too," he murmurs quietly, swallowing hard as his hand slides up into Loki's hair and he rests their foreheads together. "It's been there. I was just afraid to admit it to even myself, but you should know."

[thewrongpath]

"Well, I was hoping you might be," Loki admitted with a breathless huff of strangled laughter. His smile was wide but somehow boyish, and he blinked away the sudden sting of unshed tears. Lifting his head, he nudged a kiss to Bucky's brow, another to his temple, then pulled him close, arms tight around him in what could only be a hug.

In a thousand years, he'd never been lucky enough for this, only for it to happen to him twice now. It was sure to all come crashing down around them, but as he'd said: He was too selfish to try and stop it now.

[semi_stable]

Loki looks nearly overcome with emotion, so much so that Bucky has to swallow past a sudden lump in his throat as he thumbs under Loki's eye, gently sweeping a bit of moisture away from the corner of it. He smiles as Loki kisses him tenderly, hugs him fiercely, and he can't help but to grin as his arms go around Loki in return.

For a very long time, Bucky wouldn't have thought it possible to be in love with two people, but he's been proven wrong. It wouldn't work for everyone, and probably wouldn't work for him in any other combination of people, but this works. He knows that Loki loves someone else, and somehow he isn't jealous. He doesn't feel cheated, and maybe that's because that same other person has a piece of Bucky's heart, too. It's strange and unexpected but he likes it. He's grateful for it.

"I think you should probably take me into the bedroom before we traumatize Bopp," Bucky says with a chuckle, biting playfully at the side of Loki's neck as he holds onto him tightly.

[thewrongpath]

With a laugh, Loki shifted his hold on the other man and rose to his feet, grinning against his temple as he edged around the coffee table and carried him into the bedroom.

"I thought we were getting takeaway. If I'd known you only wanted me for sex, I'd have eaten before I arrived," he teased, pressing Bucky's back against the wall just outside the bedroom and stealing a kiss.

[semi_stable]

"Oh, I'm sorry," Bucky says into the kiss, squirming out of Loki's grasp to get his feet back onto the floor and taking his hand to lead him back into the living room. "By all means, let's get you food."

He heads for the kitchen, where there is a drawer full of takeout menus, laughing to himself as he tugs it open. "What are you in the mood for, darling?"

[thewrongpath]

"Oh, no, no," Loki said, even as he allowed himself to be dragged as far as the kitchen. Hooking an arm around Bucky's middle, Loki lifted him off his feet, laughing gleefully as he carried him back towards the bedroom.

"I've committed to this, now. We're getting you naked first."

[semi_stable]

Bucky yelps out a laugh as he's suddenly and quite literally swept off of his feet. There's a small part of him that tenses as he's manhandled so easily, nervous at experiencing any loss of control, but it's quieted easily because this is Loki, god of mischief, and Bucky is pretty sure he'd trust this man with his life. What a strange and wonderful turn of events.

"You know anyone else would be getting their ass kicked right now," he says blandly, going limp and leaning his head back over Loki's shoulder as he's carried down the hallway like an oversized doll. "I'm sparing you because you're gonna put out."

[thewrongpath]

"And here, I thought it was because you love me," Loki said, striding into the bedroom and unceremoniously dumping Bucky onto the bed.

After the tension of their conversation in the living room, Loki felt dizzily relieved. If all Bucky had wanted to do was cuddle on the couch fully clothed all evening, Loki still would've been euphorically, ridiculously happy.

[semi_stable]

"You're going to be insufferable, aren't you," Bucky says flatly, grunting as he somehow lands face down on the bed, metal arm clanging noisily against the bed frame. "You break it, you buy it, pal."

It's a joke, of course. They both know how nearly indestructible it is. He plants it into the mattress and flips himself over onto his back, legs hanging over the side of the bed as he raises his arms over his head, smiling softly up at Loki.

"You said it first," he points out with an expression that's fond and smug all at once. "As long as you're keeping score."

[thewrongpath]

"Oh, undoubtedly," Loki agreed, grinning wickedly as he nudged his way between Bucky's knees, standing over him as he worked open the buttons on his own shirt.

"I did. I'm no match for those kicked-puppy eyes of yours, it seems. It's dreadful," Loki admitted, undoing the last button before leaning over to kiss Bucky thoroughly.

[semi_stable]

As Loki stands over him, teasing him, Bucky marvels over the fact that he isn't a wreck right now. He should be, considering what happened barely more than an hour ago. It will probably catch up with him later, shake him awake with nightmares if he's even able to sleep, but right now it's out of his mind.

He's just focused on this, on Loki, and the fragile blossom of hope in his chest. It feels almost too good to be true and maybe it is, but he'll take what he can. Because no matter what else happens, he knows what it feels like to be in love in a way that's reciprocated, in a way that doesn't hurt.

"Oh, okay," Bucky says with a laugh, eyes crinkling. His arms are still above his head when Loki leans over him, but when their mouths meet, he lifts his right hand and cradles the back of Loki's head, humming contentedly against his lips.

[thewrongpath]

Reaching for Bucky's free hand, Loki's fingers threaded with his metal ones, the gesture as natural as if he'd grasped the one made of flesh. They kissed slowly, thoroughly. They'd already made their plans for him to stay the night, so there was no need to rush.

Leaning back, finally, he tugged at Bucky's shirt, hitching the fabric up to his ribs, a hand sliding on the warm skin beneath. "Shall we take this off, then?" He teased, a thumb brushing over one of Bucky's flat nipples as he exposed more of his torso.

[semi_stable]

Loki isn’t rushing, kissing him like he plans on taking his time, and Bucky likes the thought of that. He still feels a little fragile, a little hollowed out, and while he’d never admit it out loud, he wants to be taken care of, handled with care, not like a bomb but like something irreplaceable.

“I suppose,” he breathes out with a soft smirk, muscles in his stomach and chest flexing as he raises his arms and lifts his shoulders from the bed to let Loki pull his shirt off, only letting go of Loki’s hand once he needs to.

He reaches out to push Loki’s open shirt off of his shoulder, metal fingertip lightly trailing between the freckles on his chest before he falls back again, sighing dramatically and reaching up to put the back of his hand against his forehead as if he were swooning.

“I think you’re gonna have to do all the work,” he teases, squeezing Loki’s thighs between his knees. “I had a very trying day.”

[thewrongpath]

"Oh, is that so?" Loki chuckled, leaning down to brush their bare chests together, his cock dragging alongside Bucky's through the fabric of their remaining clothes.

"And what work are you in the mood for?" He asked, taking Bucky's hand in his own once again and moving to press it down against the mattress by his head.

[semi_stable]

“Whatever work you’re in the mood to do,” Bucky volleys back, breath hitching as Loki presses against him, making his cock go from mildly interested to erect and aching in no time flat.

Loki takes his hand and Bucky swallows hard as it’s pressed to the bed, breathing out shakily. This could go two ways— he could take charge here, needlessly display that he’s in complete control of himself, or he could let Loki try to drown out the buzz in his head, let him decide.

“I just— I don’t want to think,” he admits, sounding a little tired in a way that has nothing to do with how much sleep he is or isn’t getting. “I want you to remind me how it feels to be touched nicely.”

[thewrongpath]

"I think I can manage that," Loki murmured, giving Bucky's hand a gentle squeeze, thumb pressing circles against his palm.

Lifting himself off of Bucky's body, Loki reached for his waistband, saying, "Let's get you out of these, then."

Tugging Bucky's jeans down over his hips, Loki pressed a warm kiss to his belly, his hands gentle as he stood at the foot of the bed and stripped him the rest of the way out of his clothes. Giving him a considering look, Loki quietly asked, "Stretch out on your belly for me?"

[semi_stable]

It takes a lot for Bucky to outright ask for tenderness, and it means just as much that Loki responds in kind. He doesn’t mean that Loki needs to handle him with kid gloves, or be slow and gentle, but he thinks Loki understands.

He lifts his hips as Loki pulls down his pants and underwear and then looks up at the question, looking him in the eye for a moment. There are two people in this city that Bucky would give his back to right now, and he’s one of them.

Nodding slowly, he twists around and pulls himself fully onto the bed, tucking his cock up against his hip as he lays on his stomach. His thighs part a little and he grabs a pillow, stuffing it under his head and crossing his arms above it, muscles flexing subtly as he stretches out.

[thewrongpath]

For the time being, Loki didn't remove his jeans. Instead, he climbed onto the bed, swinging his legs over Bucky's to sit lightly astride his thighs. Leaning over him, Loki nuzzled at the back of his neck, slipping a hand through his hair, his fingertips pressing against Bucky's scalp.

He kissed Bucky's neck, his hands moving lower, his thumbs kneading at the tension at the top of his spine. "How's this, then?" He murmured, lips against the nape of his neck.

[semi_stable]

Bucky didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't denim brushing the backs of his thighs as Loki sits on him. He stays quiet, breathing in deep at the comforting weight of him, and then lets out a tiny little involuntary groan as Loki's fingers press into the tight muscles at the nape of his neck.

All of it feels so good, Loki's hands and his lips, the spill of his hair where it brushes Bucky's skin.

"What are you doing?" He asks quietly, genuinely a little confused. It feels good, and he certainly isn't complaining, but it's something so new to him, and it makes him unexpectedly emotional, toes curling as Loki's thumb digs into a knot of muscle at his shoulder blade.

[thewrongpath]

"I'm touching you nicely," Loki murmured, a frown creasing his brow, even as he worked his hands over a knot of tension just beneath Bucky's shoulder blade.

"I was under the impression that's what you wanted," he said, his mouth grazing the corded line of scar tissue at the joint of Bucky's prosthetic. Pressing a kiss to a dark freckle just to the side of Bucky's spine, he asked, "Shall I change tactics?"

[semi_stable]

“I— no. It feels good,” Bucky breathes out, swallowing hard because Loki gets nothing from this aside from the satisfaction of helping Bucky relax, and making him feel good.

He hadn’t realized just how tight his muscles were until Loki’s strong hands work out different knots, leaving kisses over the places where his thumbs dig in, and Bucky feels a little like he’s melting into the mattress. His cock is hard but there’s no urgency, because he’s sure this will turn into sex eventually. He wants it too, but he wants this, too.

He had no idea that this was something he wanted.