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]

"It's a phone, if you can believe it. Among other things," Loki said, leaning back in his seat once again to watch Bucky witness that little bit of proof. It was uncanny, seeing the realization dawning, the awe, even a bit of fear. It was no longer abstract. This, in a small way, made Loki's story real.

"We are happy here," Loki confirmed, reaching out to sweep his finger blindly across the screen, though with a bit of magic, he made sure to reveal a particular photo: Sylvie had taken it the previous Christmas. In it, Bucky and Loki were entangled under a blanket, Bucky's small Christmas tree visible in the background. Bucky looked at the camera, while Loki had turned to look at him, his smile soft and hopelessly fond.

[semi_stable]

"You're kiddin' me," Bucky says with a laugh, tilting the little device back and forth until Loki changes the photo again. Something about it makes his heart clench and his expression softens as he takes the phone in both hands to get a better look. Almost distractedly, he sits on Loki's thigh again. It's Sylvie behind the camera, he assumes, mostly because he can tell that he's looking at someone just above the lens, eyes crinkled at the corners and smile fond.

And Loki-- well. He's looking at Bucky like he's just hung the moon, like he's absolutely gone for him, and Bucky's cheeks flush with warmth. Happy and in love, somewhere that isn't Brooklyn and with someone who isn't Steve. He never thought that could happen.

When Bucky looks up from the phone, Loki is looking at him almost just like he is in the photo, and he gives into the sudden urge to lean in and press their mouths together before he can talk himself out of doing so. It's the only way he can express everything he's feeling, he thinks.

[thewrongpath]

Loki froze. While he wasn't all that surprised by the kiss, judging by the slowly growing warmth on Bucky's face, he was uncertain how he ought to proceed. He was so young— barely older than a boy, and while certainly not inexperienced, Loki felt himself at an unfair advantage.

Once, he wouldn't have cared. Now, he very much did.

A hand at the small of Bucky's back, Loki lifted the other to cradle Bucky's jaw, gently tipping their mouths together more comfortably. The kiss was sweet, lingering and affectionate, and Loki found himself nearly breathless with the desire to pull this young man close. To look after him. To protect him from anyone, and anything, that might try and harm him.

[semi_stable]

It's an awkward sort of kiss at first, and when Loki tenses up he's worried that he's made a mistake. He nearly pulls away but then Loki's hand is soft against his face. Bucky starts a little, unused to such a touch, and then sinks into it readily.

He's kissed men before, but never like this. It was always rough and, now that he's thinking about it, sort of self-loathing. This is something entirely different and Bucky makes a soft, quiet noise when Loki slots their mouths more firmly together. It makes him feel all warm and fluttery, like when Steve would smile at him except so, so much stronger.

Eventually he breaks the kiss, cheeks flushed pink as he pulls back to look at Loki almost shyly, left hand resting against the man's chest. "I-- uh, wow." He chuckles at himself and then wrinkles his nose in slight embarrassment, feeling a little like a girl at the end of a really good date. "Glad I did, though."

[thewrongpath]

The expression on the younger man's face was so unlike the Bucky he knew, Loki's smile was a bit more melancholy than he'd intended as he lifted a hand to Bucky's face, thumb brushing gently over the flushed apple of his cheek.

"Good," Loki said, eyes creased at the corners, "I certainly wouldn't want you to regret it."

[semi_stable]

The look on Loki’s face is a little sad and for a moment Bucky is worried that he’s done something wrong, but then that gentle touch is back. He relaxes a little and studies Loki’s face curiously, perking up a little when his expression brightens. It’s not hard to think that Loki might be a little sad. He isn’t the Bucky that Loki knows, really. He must have changed in all those years, and he’d like to imagine that he’s matured a little. But not too much.

“Am I still fun?” He asks after a moment, reaching down to pick up the slack tie of Loki’s robe, rubbing the silky material between his calloused fingertips. He’s quickly distracted from his question, pausing instead to twist and look around the room, really taking it in. “This if the nicest bedroom I’ve ever slept in. You said Sylvie has a room here.”

He turns to look at Loki again, eyes bright. “Do I have one, too?”

[thewrongpath]

"You're a bit more guarded, but yes. You are," Loki said, smiling warmly. He saw no reason to tell this young man of all the trauma he had before him. At least not yet. Loki, more than anyone, knew the futility of trying to change the man he knew's fate, but he might be able to give this version of him a chance.

"The space upstairs is yours, but when you're here, you've always slept with one of us."

[semi_stable]

The casual admission makes Bucky's cheeks flush and he clears his throat, glancing away from Loki for a moment. It should feel preposterous, what Loki is telling him, but Bucky believes him. He thinks that he's always been a little good at reading people, and Loki isn't lying. If he is, he's the best damn liar in the world, and maybe a part of him doesn't want to believe that Loki could be lying because the way he looks at Bucky makes him feel so damn important and he doesn't want it to be fake.

"Wow," he says with a chuckle, biting his lip a little before meeting Loki's eyes again. He really wants to kiss him again, but suddenly feels shy. Loki is being gracious to him, but he's not the Bucky that Loki is used to. "Are you still attracted to me like this? I mean-- it's okay if you're not. I'd rather just know now so I don't embarrass myself."

[thewrongpath]

"It's not a question of whether or not I'm attracted to you, darling. I want you to be fully aware of what you're getting into. You deserve that," Loki said, lifting a hand to Bucky's face.

"I don't want to frighten you."

[semi_stable]

"I hate to break it to ya," Bucky says with a rough sort of chuckle. "But I'm already pretty frightened."

It's a big admission, and not one he would usually make to a stranger, but Loki doesn't feel like a stranger. When he puts his big hand on Bucky's face, his breath catches slightly. It's probably stupid to feel aroused at a time like this, but he's young. He feels aroused most of the time anyway, and maybe it's just easier to stare at Loki than to think about the situation he's in. Maybe it's just intoxicating having a man's attention on him like this. It's so unlike anything he's used to.

"Are you trying to say that I should be scared of you?" Bucky asks in a quiet voice, keeping his eyes on Loki's face as he turns his head slightly so Loki's fingertips brush across his full lips, making him shiver. This is crazy. All of this is so crazy, but that doesn't stop Bucky from taking the tip of Loki's middle finger into his mouth, eyes widening as if surprised by himself.

[thewrongpath]

"I'm saying that you might be. At the very least, you're going to be confused," Loki admitted, breath stuttering as the younger man parted his lips, drawing Loki's finger into his warm mouth.

"The world is very different from what you knew," he said, not for the first time. "And I'm not, technically, human."

[semi_stable]

“Oh, I’m plenty confused,” Bucky replies with a wry smile, eyebrows quirking a bit when Loki’s breath hitches. He tried not to daydream about men. He tried not to think about his attraction at all, because it usually would veer toward thoughts of Steve and then his shame would be two-fold. Usually, he would just take care of such urges when a relatively safe opportunity presented itself, and it was never anything like this.

Sitting on an older man’s lap, suckling at his fingers while being looked at like he’s something precious is never something he could have imagined, but damned if he doesn’t enjoy it.

But then, just as he’s trying to muster up the courage to lean in for another kiss, Loki says something that throws him. Bucky’s mouth falls open and he drops Loki’s hand, barely registering the loss of pressure against his lips. He scoffs out a laugh as if Loki might be kidding, but Loki’s face remains as sincere as it has this whole time and Bucky’s heart leaps up into his throat, thrashing wildly.

“What do you mean?” He asks in a low, cautious voice, reaching out to press his palm against Loki’s chest, feeling his heart beat against it. “You look pretty human to me.”

[thewrongpath]

"This world... this dimension, is only one of many. I come from a place called Asgard. We're gods, to some. I've certainly referred to myself as such," he admitted, with a rueful smile.

Then, to prove his point, Loki allowed the green silk robe he wore to flicker away, replaced by his battle leathers. Instead of the horned helmet, he gave himself a circlet with a pair of smaller horns, not entirely unlike the one Sylvie often wore.

"Though, as much as I like to claim the moniker, I'm not certain it truly fits."

[semi_stable]

“Asgard,” he repeats, because it sounds familiar, like some place he’s heard of once, but he’s quickly distracted by Loki calling himself a god. It sounds insane and Bucky feels a brief stab of fear, like maybe he’s been tricked somehow and Loki really is crazy, but then his clothes are glowing under Bucky’s thighs.

“Shit,” he yelps out, scrambling off of Loki’s lap and stepping back a few feet. His eyes go wide as green light shimmers around Loki’s head, leaving something like a horned crown on his head. Bucky’s mouth falls open and he holds his hands out in front of him in a defensive position, but nothing else happens. Loki doesn’t even move, just sits there looking regal and— yeah, maybe otherworldly.

“This is a lot to put on a guy all at once,” Bucky says after a moment, slowly straightening up and putting his hands on his hips as he looks up and down.

[thewrongpath]

Loki raised his palms outward, a gesture of surrender as the younger man scrambled to put distance between them.

"Trust me, there's more," Loki said, somewhat ruefully. "I have a long, complicated history, and not all of it is pretty. We haven't always been on the same side."

[semi_stable]

“Hold on,” Bucky pleads, keeping one hand out as he moves to sit on the side of the bed, feeling a little shell shocked. “Give me a sec, huh?”

He stares at the wall for a moment and then turns a speculative gaze on Loki. He makes an intimidating figure in battle armor and a pair of horns, but he’s looking at Bucky with such softness. There’s a sort of desperation in his eyes, and a sadness that’s unmistakable.

“You look like you’re about to try and convince me that you’re a bad guy,” Bucky finally says, swallowing hard tilting his head. He feels a flush rise to his cheeks and wrinkles his nose, but he’s resolute.

“You coulda had me just then,” Bucky admits, pink cheeked as he jerks his head toward the chair they were sitting only moments ago, when Bucky was so enraptured by him. “I was ready to roll over and ask no questions and I’ve never even—“

He pauses when he realizes that he probably has been fucked. Well not him, but another version of him that sleeps in the opulent bedroom of one of his lovers. Loki’s been inside him, surely, and for a second Bucky is almost jealous of himself.

“Anyway, you coulda had me,” Bucky says again, sounding more sure of himself now as he meets Loki’s eye. “But instead you stopped me to tell me you’re an alien because you wanted me to know the truth. A bad guy wouldn’t do that, Loki. I wouldn’t love a bad guy.”

[thewrongpath]

"I'm not trying to convince you of anything. I'm only want you to understand what you're getting into. You have a right to know," Loki said, the cape and circlet fading away, leaving him in his battle leathers.

"I'd like for us to have coffee. Perhaps a bit of breakfast. We can spend the morning together, and you can ask the questions you almost didn't, and then, if you're still in the mood, then..." He said, with a faintly sly smile. "Then you can roll over all you like."

[semi_stable]

Oh, Bucky is in so over his head. He swallows hard as Loki’s wardrobe once again shifts with an ease that says that it happens all the time, and he can’t help but to be enthralled. It’s like magic, like something out of a book, and it thankfully distracts Bucky from the more desperately sad facts about his current situation. He can’t have a meltdown about being away from his family and Steve if he’s distracted.

Loki starts speaking again and Bucky stares at him with a slightly furrowed brow, because it almost sounds like a date, like plenty he’s been on with women. The comment about him rolling over makes Bucky’s cheeks turn bright pink, as if he hadn’t brought the topic up himself, and he chokes out a sheepish laugh.

“This isn’t how it usually goes with men,” Bucky admits, shrugging a shoulder and slowly standing up from the bed. Loki still looks intimidating in all that leather, but the expression on his face eases any hesitation that Bucky might have about approaching him. He does just that, reaching out with his left hand to lightly trace a groove across Loki’s chest plate.

He should be terrified, but he isn’t. Maybe it’s shock, or maybe it’s just Loki that makes him feel like everything will be okay.

“But— yes,” Bucky says eventually, dropping his hand and looking up to meet Loki’s eyes. He’s just a bit taller, maybe a little broader across the shoulders, and Bucky feels an intense urge to know what it feels like to be swept up in his strong arms. He’s swooning like a girl, and he nearly laughs at himself. What a ridiculous day. “I would like to have breakfast with you, Loki.”

His own expression goes a little impish and he bites his lip, tipping his chin up to give Loki a boyishly cocky smirk. “As for the rest of it, we’ll have to see. Maybe you blew your chance.”

He has very much not blown his chance, and it’s far too late to try and play it cool, but Bucky tries anyway.

[thewrongpath]

Relief washed over him, and Loki realized just how nervous he was in that moment. It could've all gone very wrong, and while he knew that whatever missteps he made, he'd be able to fix them once Bucky was himself, Loki very much wanted to avoid frightening this boyish, optimistic version of the man he'd fallen for.

"Finish getting dressed, and meet me downstairs, yes? And bring your coffee," Loki said, turning for the door. Pausing, he smiled warmly at Bopp, he sat dutifully at Bucky's side. "And your dog."

[semi_stable]

"Oh-- yeah, sure." Bucky feels a brief flutter of nerves at the thought of being separated from Loki, but he's able to swallow it back and give the man a reassuring smile as he departs. And then it's just him and the dog, his dog, with a name tag that says Bopp. What kind of name is that for a dog, anyway?

"Are you sure I'm not dreamin'?" He asks the dog, who cocks her head and perks her ears in a way that, while not helpful, is undeniably adorable. Bucky takes a deep breath and scrubs his hands over his face before putting them on his hips and looking around. Now that he's alone and not faced with the distraction that is, if he's to be believed, a very attractive alien that Bucky has shacked up with in some alternate dimension outside of time and space. Thinking about it too hard makes his head hurt and his chest tighten up, so he shakes himself and pulls on the soft blue t-shirt that Loki had handed him. There's a watch on the side of the bed that he woke up on, something fancy and complicated looking, but upon closer inspection he realizes that it's set up to be worn on the right wrist, so it probably isn't his. He always wears his watches on the left.

He stands there looking around for evidence of himself and he finds it in small pieces. There's a copy of The Hobbit on the dresser, and it looks just like the copy he read a few years back. For some reason, the sight of it settles him a little. Eventually, he stops stalling and leaves the room with Bopp following at his side, going back for his coffee when he remembers it. He pauses in front of the closed door of another bedroom, but doesn't hear any sounds coming from within, so maybe this mysterious other woman isn't home. A part of him wants to go in and snoop, but he wouldn't do that, so instead he makes his way down the stairs. The place can really only be described as elegant, he thinks. It looks like rich people live here, and Bucky is slightly agog by the time that he finds the kitchen.

"I must have sweet talked you something fierce to get you to let me through the front door of this place," Bucky quips when he finds Loki, laughing nervously as he looks around at the gleaming appliances. Loki looks at home in this place, while Bucky imagines that he must stick out like a sore thumb.

[thewrongpath]

"Among other things," Loki said, laughter in his eyes as he gestured for Bucky to take a seat at the counter.

"Generally, I prefer to hire people to make my meals, but I can make eggs," he admitted, opening the refrigerator and taking out a carton. There was already bread in the toaster, and fresh, ripe strawberries to be sliced.

[semi_stable]

"Oh, wow," Bucky breathes out, feeling his cheeks heat up as he ducks his head to hide a smile. He glances around on instinct, but it seems to be just them in the house. As far as he knows, no one is going to come running through the door and shout at them for being perverts, so Bucky doesn't feel the need to try to lie about who he is, even to himself. Maybe even especially not to himself. Loki seems to have no qualms with it, seems perfectly at ease with himself, and Bucky wants that, too. He's been wanting that for some time and now, here in this absurdly strange situation, he'll let himself have it.

"I think I like it when you flirt with me," he admits, smiling at Loki as he heads over to the chair Loki has gestured to. He hovers near it for a moment and then looks around at the very modern looking kitchen, and then sips from his coffee again before setting the mug down. "I'd rather help. I mean-- if that's okay? I'm not used to being waited on. You can put me to work."

[thewrongpath]

"And I like waiting on you, but if you insist, you're welcome to put your knife skills to work," Loki said, gesturing to the strawberries, and with a flicker of magic, opening the drawer where the knives were stored.

"Still over easy?" He asked, depressing the toaster lever with another flicker of magic as he melted a bit of butter in a frying pan on the stove.

[semi_stable]

“My knife skills?” Bucky echoes with a curious chuckle. “I do throw a mean game of darts.”

Before he can ponder too much about what Loki meant, things around the kitchen start to move on their own. It startles Bucky for a second, but then he follows the faint green shine that seems to curl around Loki for a moment before fading away. It should have been frightening, but when he looks at Loki, standing there barefoot and cracking eggs into a pan, he finds it hard to muster up any sort of fear.

Loki knows how he likes his eggs, and he just directed Bucky to a drawer full of knives even in such a strange situation. He nods as he steps forward and extracts a knife, and then clears his throat.

“Yeah, please,” he croaks out, then starts to slice up the strawberries in front of him. It feels like stepping into another life, one of domestic bliss, one that up until a few hours ago, he would have thought entirely impossible. He feels almost like an imposter, and he supposes that he is. This is his life but it isn’t his.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it were.

Bucky finishes cutting the strawberries quick enough, used to helping his mother prep for meals. Once he’s done, he turns and stares at Loki’s back, gaze lingering on the soft sweep of dark curls at the nape of his neck. He feels the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him there and he gives into it without much thought, letting his fingertips sweep along the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

[thewrongpath]

Smiling softly at the touch of Bucky's hand, Loki tended to the eggs, leaning subtly into that tentative touch. The toaster popped, and he retrieved it just as the eggs were ready to plate. With a bit of magic, he arranged a tray with butter, preserves, and a small jar of Nutella, which had become one of his favorites.

"Would you like to take those to the table?" He asked, gesturing to the tray and sliced strawberries.