good old-fashioned lover boy

[semi_stable]

The last thing that Bucky remembers with any clarity is the harsh burn of cheap whiskey in his throat as Steve walked away from him after another failed double date. Trying to set Steve up with girls made him feel a bit like Sisyphus pushing a boulder up a mountain, like he's a little insane, trying the same thing over and over again and hoping for different results.

He'd tried again, and really thought he had something this time. Brenda was a small bookish girl, with glasses and a bouncy red ponytail, and her friend Claire was known for being, well-- money spent buying her drinks wasn't going to go to waste, from what he's heard. Bucky had charmed them both into coming to the dance hall and then drug Steve along with a strong arm around his shoulders, like he had so many times before, but it didn't matter.

Steve's lack of confidence when it came to women was all too apparent, especially to the girls that Bucky tried to set him up with, and he always threw in the towel before anything could ever happen. For some reason, Bucky kept trying. He was Sisyphus and Steve's virginity was that fucking boulder.

Bucky would take it himself, except that wasn't an option. It wouldn't ever be an option, despite what his traitorous imagination got up to.

So, Steve left and Bucky drank. He danced with Brenda and with Claire, then drank some more. And then more, because he's twenty years old and what was left of his meager paycheck wass burning a hole in his pocket, and he doesn't have any damn sense yet.


That led to the present moment-- Bucky waking up in a very comfortable bed with a dull ache in his head and a mouth full of cotton. He groans and rolls away from the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, curling up under the covers to ward off the chill. He stays like that for a few moments until his eyes pop open and he pushes himself up onto his elbow, scanning the unfamiliar bedroom. It looks like something out of picture show, all plush velvet and gold accents, and Bucky frowns. As far as he knew, Brenda and Claire were working class like him. He'd picked them up at a brownstone just down the street, as modest and plain as his own home.

The bedding is plush and soft, and Bucky lifts the duvet to confirm that he at least has underwear on. It wouldn't be the first time that he's woken up somewhere strange after a rough night, but never somewhere like this. A glance next to him tells him that he didn't sleep in the bed alone, given the rumpled bedding and the dented pillow. He reaches out to put his hand on the sheets, finding them still warm, and then lifts his head when he hears approaching footsteps.

Morning afters are always kind of awkward and Bucky sighs, reaching up to scrub his hands over his face.

"Here we go."

Comments

[thewrongpath]

Loki didn't always rely on magic to do things, and that morning, he'd gone downstairs to start the coffee and to let out the dog, padding on bare feet through the brownstone he and Sylvie shared. Two mugs held skillfully in one hand, Loki scrolled idly through the news feed on his phone with the other. His green, silk robe was unbelted and hung open, beneath it only a pair of black boxer briefs. Bopp trailed ahead of him, her nails clacking along the polished wood floors.

As she entered the bedroom ahead of him, Bopp let out a sharp bark— one that sounded excited and perhaps a bit confused. Frowning, he dropped his phone into the pocket of his robe and stepped through the door. "Ah," he said to her, observing the young man lounging in his bed with an arch of his brow. "I see."

[semi_stable]

A cute dog trots into the room and Bucky grins, but then the dog is followed by a grossly attractive man and Bucky goes very still, eyes widening as an anxious flush rolls down from the top of his head.

All right, yeah, sometimes Bucky fucks men. It’s a thing that he tries not to think about, outside of the brief window of time where it’s actively happening, and he’s certainly never stayed for a nightcap, let alone the entire night.

Maybe he’s jumping to conclusions and that isn’t what happened here, but the guy’s in his underwear, dark hair tousled, and it paints a pretty clear picture.

“Oh. Hi,” Bucky says with a flush, voice nearly cracking. He swallows hard and pats at the covers, then reaches up to drag his hand through his messy hair. “I should, uh— probably get out of your hair.”

[thewrongpath]

"Well, I suppose that answers my first question," he said lightly, padding the rest of the way into the room.

"There's no rush," Loki assured him. With a faint smile curving one corner of his lips, Loki handed over a mug of coffee, prepared to Bucky's liking. His own cup in hand, he sat down on the edge of the bed, one leg drawn beneath him, his body angled towards the young man currently fluttering nervously among the sheets they'd rumpled only hours earlier.

He looked terribly young. Loki wasn't particularly skilled at judging the age of humans, but he feared that Bucky looked barely out of his adolescence.

[semi_stable]

“Does it?” Bucky feels a little dumbstruck as the man approaches, so much so that even though he’d sat up with the intention to grab his pants and flee, he finds himself unable to move. The guy’s maybe twice his age, if that, and movie star handsome. It feels like his face should be in black and white. Technicolor is far too stimulating.

“You’re not from around here, I gather,” Bucky says in a slightly reedy voice, his own accent thick on his clumsy tongue. The guy sits down on the bed and Bucky blushes like a school girl, blinking in surprise as the guy holds a cup of coffee out to him. He takes it because he doesn’t know what else to do, and then just kind of stares at the guy, finally allowing himself to really meet his gaze. He’s so at ease with himself, with all of this, and Bucky can’t help but to marvel at it.

“I— uh, don’t usually—“ He cuts himself off and takes a sip from the mug mostly just to stall, then does a bit of a double take as he swallows. “Christ, that’s good coffee. You made this?”

[thewrongpath]

"It does," he answered calmly, despite a feeling of some disquiet. He knew that, most likely, this was simply a trick of Darrow's making. A temporary inconvenience. Still, having that face peer back at him without a shred of recognition settled uncomfortably in his chest.

"I'm not. Incidentally, neither are you."

At the young man's charmingly earnest reaction to his first sip, Loki stifled a warm smile. "I'm glad you like it." Not wanting to frighten him needlessly, Loki leaned over to set his own mug down on the beside table, instead of ridding himself of it through magic.

Bopp, unable to contain herself any longer, jumped onto the bed as well, shuffling closer hesitantly, her tail wiggling excitedly and her head held low.

[semi_stable]

“Me? I’m Brooklyn born and raised,” Bucky replies, leaning back a little as the man leans across him to set his coffee down. He even smells good, and Bucky feels a wild urge to lean in and press his mouth to the pale skin of his neck. It’s a real shame that he doesn’t remember any of it.

Maybe he could try to angle for another round. It’s not something he’s ever done in the harsh light of day but a part of him still wants to, even as another part wants to run out the front door.

The dog distracts him from his inner turmoil and he laughs, setting his own mug down as he twists to give the dog a scratch behind the ears. It yips at him and Bucky laughs, high and bright, as he reaches for the tag around its neck.

“Bopp, huh? You’ve got some pretty good digs here.” He gives the dog another pat and glances over her head at the man sitting on the other side of him. “Your owner seems like a nice enough fella. Very hospitable.”

[thewrongpath]

"Ah, yes, but you see, darling," Loki stood, crossing the room and throwing open the curtains to give the young man a view of Petros Park below. "We're not in Brooklyn. Or in New York, for that matter."

Closing his robe about himself and belting it loosely at the waist, he said, "It's rather difficult to explain, but first, I want you to understand that you're safe. You, and the dog, who just so happens to be yours." Gesturing to Bopp's collar, he said, "Turn it over, have a look."

On the other side of the tag was the name Bucky Barnes, with the phone number beneath.

[semi_stable]

Bucky has never been called darling by another man and normally he might not take it so well, but there’s something about it being said in this beguiling man’s deep accented voice makes him straighten up instead. His eyes widen and he swallows hard, throat clicking as his eyes track the man moving across the room.

Admittedly, he’s not really listening to what he’s actually saying. He’s too busy staring, but eventually he processes the view out the window. Bucky does a double take and then stands up abruptly, letting the blankets fall away as he crosses the room to take in the city below him. It’s definitely not Brooklyn, or Manhattan or any of the boroughs. Beyond that, Bucky doesn’t have much of a frame of reference.

“Wait— what?” Bucky sucks in a ragged breath, brow pinched and mouth slack as he looks over at the other man’s face. “What the hell is this?”

The dog is whining at his side, pressing her face into his hip, and Bucky nearly pushes her away until the guy motions to the leather collar around her neck. It looks nicer than any belt that Bucky has ever owned.

He shoots the guy a wary look and then crouches, blue eyes wide before he turns to look at the tag.

IF FOUND PLEASE CALL BUCKY BARNES

Underneath it is a line of numbers and Bucky swallows hard, hands shaking as the dog rubs herself against him, pressing until he falls back onto his ass, nuzzling at him with obvious familiarity. “I don’t understand.”

[thewrongpath]

Bucky seemed unaware of his nudity as he rushed for the window, confusion winning out over his rather obvious, wide-eyed lust.

"She's trained to respond when you're anxious," Loki explained, though he knew that wasn't the question he'd been asked. Crouching down at Bucky's side, though careful not to crowd him, Loki said, "I know you believe you must've gotten very drunk last night and gone home with a stranger, but that's not quite the truth of it."

Standing, he crossed to the dresser and opened a drawer, producing a pair of pajama pants that would fit Bucky perfectly, because they were his. He held them out, allowing Bucky to take them, if he wished.

"You're in a city called Darrow. A strange, inexplicable world outside of time, that brings people from every corner of every universe together. Now and then, it likes to play little games like this. Fiddle with your memory. Your body. Your age. The man I know as James Buchanan Barnes is quite a few years older. And with a bit more experience under his belt."

Smiling warmly, he took a seat in the chair by the window.

[semi_stable]

"What?" He looks at the dog again, blinking when she meets his gaze and perks her ears up. Her tag is swinging back and forth and Bucky looks down to see his own name engraved into it again. He tenses a little when the man crouches next to him, and swallows hard as he looks over at him. "This is-- what I thought, yeah. So, we didn't-- um."

His cheeks flush and he lets out a crazed sort of laugh, putting his face in his hands for a long moment. He looks up in time to see a pair of soft pants being held toward him and he looks down at himself, eyes widening as he curses under his breath. "Fuck, sorry."

He gets up and wrangles himself into the pants, pulling the strings tight, and stares at the guy in shock as he attempts to explain the situation Bucky has found himself in. The other man is so calm, so steady, and Bucky blinks when he uses Bucky's real first name.

"I-- um." He's silent for a long moment as he tries to process it all, because the thing is that he doesn't think this guy is lying. He seems so sincere, even if what he's saying sounds full on crazy, and him being so calm might be the only thing keeping Bucky from fully flipping his lid. "You seem to know a lot about me. I don't even know your name. Or-- or who you are."

[thewrongpath]

"I am Loki," he said, ignoring the dull ache in his chest, settled there at having to reintroduce himself to this man, whom he'd shared a life with now for over a year. "Laufeyson," he added with a sigh. Then, with a vague gesture of his hand, he said, "And a long list of titles it's better I not get into at the moment."

Sitting forward, elbows on his knees, Loki said, "You did come home with me last night, but we weren't strangers. I'm your partner. Boyfriend. Lover. I'm not sure we've ever settled on a label," he sighed, scrubbing both hands over his cheeks before letting them fall, a small, only slightly unsteady smile on his face. "You being here like this, not knowing where you are, not knowing me... it should only be temporary. A week, tops."

[semi_stable]

"Loki Laufeyson," Bucky repeats slowly, finding himself staring at Loki again because that seems to be easy. At least it is until Loki explains their relationship, and Bucky coughs a little in surprise, backing up a little until the backs of his knees hit the bed.

"No, I'm not-- I can't," he starts, feeling panic swell again because yeah, he sometimes has sex with men but it's not something that he ever even considered acknowledging in the light of day. But again, Loki seems so honest and he suddenly seems so sad that it distracts Bucky from reaching up to tear his hair out.

"I'm sorry," he finds himself saying, taking a jerking step forward and then going still, curling his arms up against his chest as he looks out the window again. Absurdly, it feels a little like he might cry, and he takes a shaky breath. "I gotta be honest; this is outside the scope of what I know how to deal with. Buddy, it sounds completely insane."

He swallows and looks at Loki again, brow furrowing as he studies his face. He's a little like a magnet, and Bucky finds himself wanting to move closer even if what he's saying scares the absolute hell out of him. "But-- you're not lyin', are you? You don't look like you're lying."

[thewrongpath]

It was both amusing and terribly sad, watching Bucky practically scramble away from him.

Loki arched a brow. "Which part? The existence of multiple universes, or that you might be in love with a man?"

Sighing, he said, "no. I'm not lying. I can only imagine how confused and frightened you must be. Believe me, the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable."

[semi_stable]

It’s been a strange day. It’s the strangest one he’s ever had by a long shot, and Bucky can’t help but to feel a little overwhelmed. This city makes him feel like an ancient relic of sorts, something leftover from a world that no longer exists. Everything is electronic and aglow with dizzying screens that make him feel like an old man.

It would have been easy to spiral but through it all, Loki was there. He was patient with Bucky, and at times seemed amused by his warring awe and frustration. But when Bucky became too overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, Loki quietly brought them here, to a house by the sea.

It’s his house, apparently. His own house that he bought, with his own beach and animals to take care of. He’s standing in the open door of his bedroom, feeling the salty breeze ruffle his hair as he stares up at the moon, arms wrapped loosely around himself. Loki is in the kitchen, and Bopp is herding his goats in the backyard. The whole place is alive with activity, but so peaceful at the same time.

This is his house, all his, and maybe that’s the most surprising thing of all.

[thewrongpath]

Stepping up behind him, Loki reached around him to offer a glass of wine. It was a red, found in Bucky's cabinet. Perhaps a gift, or something he'd bought on a whim.

"It's not bad," Loki offered. Perhaps not the very best he'd had, and it certainly wouldn't get a god or a superhuman drunk, but Bucky didn't need to worry about such things now. He was a human, with all the fragility that implied. None of the scars, and far less of the trauma. It was at once unsettling and exhilarating.

With a jerk of a nod towards the sliding doors, and the view of the beach beyond, Loki said, "It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" Not just the house, of course. All of it.

[semi_stable]

Loki’s footsteps are as quiet as the cat currently snoozing in the corner, and Bucky starts a little when he’s suddenly at his back. He relaxes immediately and accepts the wine with a grateful nod. It tastes just fine to him, maybe better than he’s ever had, but he doesn’t say so.

Bucky has dated girls out of his league before, young women with rich fathers who don’t pay them enough attention, who would turn their noses up at his car but still let him under their skirt in the back of it. And now, suddenly, he’s here with a man who claims to be a god, with all the magical powers to back it up. Loki isn’t just out of Bucky’s league— he’s a whole other game entirely.

“Bit of an understatement,” Bucky says with a rough chuckle, stepping out onto the small patio and looking around. Windblown sand crunches beneath his bare feet and Bucky takes another sip from his glass as he stares out at the sea. This being a home that he chose for himself makes sense. Of all the things that he’s learned about himself today, this is the least shocking.

The most surprising is lingering behind him, close enough that Bucky can smell his subtle cologne and feel the warmth of his skin. It makes him ache with want, but in a way that isn’t entirely familiar. It’s like what he feels with Steve, but not quite. With Steve, he knew it was fruitless, an impossibility. It felt safe almost, wanting something he could never have.

But now, he looks at Loki and feels exhilarated and terrified all at once, because it’s more than a fantasy in his head. It’s something real, and Bucky stares at Loki’s face as a soft smile tugs at his mouth. “Hell of a view.”

[thewrongpath]

Following Bucky outside, Loki turned to close the door softly behind them, not wanting to let the cat out. Alpine was usually just fine on her own, but tonight wasn't a night to be chasing her about, if she decided to be naughty.

"I believe that's why you chose it," Loki said, playfully oblivious of the younger man's true intent, despite being able to feel the weight of his gaze. "Options being what they are here, you couldn't have hoped for a better location."

[semi_stable]

The reply makes Bucky huff out a laugh and he leans back against the railing as he watches Loki, utterly entranced and so unsure of himself at the same time. Today has been confusing and frightening but through it all, Loki has been there. He’s taking all of this seemingly in stride, treating Bucky with patience and kindness even though it must be so hard to have your partner wake up one day and not remember you.

He wants badly to reach out and touch Loki, wants more than anything to kiss him just to find out what it feels like to kiss a man because he really wants to, not just because he’s there and looks like he would be discreet. But he can’t seem to make himself close the distance between them, because what if Loki doesn’t want to be with him like that while he’s in this state, and Bucky fucks things up with his only lifeline in this bizarre place.

“Do you stay here a lot?” He asks after a moment, curious about this future life of his. And desperate for something that will keep him from staring so blatantly at Loki’s mouth. “Or are you mostly at your place?”

[thewrongpath]

"Quite a bit," Loki said, his smile softening as he thought of Bucky's doubts when first taking on the place. With Loki and Sylvie already comfortable in their townhouse, Bucky feared that he might somehow find himself the odd man out, between the three of them.

Loki only hoped those fears no longer haunted him.

"You're here, I'm there. We spend nights apart, but not terribly often."

[semi_stable]

Loki’s response soothes something inside of him, because he had found it strange that they were all together, but Bucky didn’t live there. It made him wonder what his place in it all actually was, but after seeing the place he calls home, it makes a little more sense. Back in Brooklyn, Bucky was crammed into a little apartment with his family. Of course he’d like his space. But at the same time, he worries that he’d get lonely.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Bucky admits with a self-conscious huff of laughter, reaching up with his left hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I don’t do very well on my own. I think that I’m something of a pack animal.”

The pair of goats bleat off in the distance and Bopp lets out an answering bark from wherever she is in the yard, and Bucky laughs again. “But I suppose that I made sure that I wasn’t alone, huh? Even when you’re not here.”

[thewrongpath]

Laughing heartily, Loki said, "You do have quite the menagerie."

The goats were something of an eccentricity, but it seemed to suit him, somehow. The dog, the cat. Bucky continued to insist that he wanted no children, which was a choice Loki would always respect, but the younger man certainly had a nurturing heart, whether he wanted to admit to it or not.

"You can call it a pack, if you like. I like to think of it more as a family."

[semi_stable]

Loki laughs and Bucky finds himself reeled in by his vibrancy. He's so full of life, and of character, and Bucky finds it hard to look away. He never thought that he would feel anything other than temporary lust for a man who wasn't Steve Rogers, but his very strange time spent in the company of Loki has upended that. He is absolutely enamored and has to keep stopping himself from reaching out to touch him, going so far as to tuck his hand under his elbow as he reaches up to take a sip of his wine.

"I never thought that my family could look like this," he admits, swallowing hard as he looks at Loki, eyes wide and shining. "But I'm not complaining."

[thewrongpath]

"Neither did I," Loki admitted, his smile softening. "Honestly, I'd never given it much thought."

Countless dalliances over the course of a thousand years, but nothing real. Not until her. Not until him. Not until the possibility of the two of them, really.

"It's funny how quickly things can change."

[semi_stable]

They stare at each other like idiots for a good long while and Bucky feels-- well, Bucky feels pretty much everything, but there's a want that's buzzing under his skin and it's louder than everything else. Still, he's too nervous to step forward and close the minimal distance between them, and that's new for him.

"Loki," he finally says after another brief stretch of silence, cheeks flushing in the low light as he smiles almost bashfully. "Are you really going to make me ask you to kiss me?"

[thewrongpath]

Loki's brow arched.

"Well, yes. As a matter of fact, I am," he said, his frown faintly amused. "You're not the same man I knew, James. A version of him, yes, but I'm not going to make assumptions about what you want."

Turning to face him, he said, "The Bucky I know is very adamant about consent, you see. I can't forget that."