Sloan Rogers was the fraternal twin brother of Steve Rogers. But unlike his brother, he was born different, a mutant.
While growing up, he had to watch as his brother suffered with his health and size. Meanwhile, Sloan was in perfect shape, and more...
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Wise men say
。.✦ ☾
1935.
A young brunette stood just underneath a lavish cherry tree as he nervously picked at the ends of his shirt. The wind softly rustles the gorgeous tree. His wild hair moved along with it. His dark eyes peering over the hill, worried.
Suddenly, hands creep around the males waist, making him gasp. A deep voice chuckles, wrapping his arms firmly around the younger man's hips, leaning his chin on his shoulder. "Hello my little demon." The older male coos
The younger, dark eyed male smiles, turning in his arms, wrapping his arms around the taller males neck, playing with the hairs in the base of his neck. "Steve would have your head if he heard you calling his good Christian brother a demon." The male teases, smirking coyly.
The taller male chuckles, leaning his head down, their noses brushing softly. His eyes taunting. "There are many reasons why Steve will have my head. Me calling you a demon is at the bottom of the list." The teen jokes, pressing his larger hands deeper into the males back, hoping to leave a imprint.
"Oh really, what exactly are theses reasons, Buck?" The male asks "Sloan, how many times have I've told you to call me James in our moments alone. I want to hear you say my real name." James breaths
Sloan flushes. "James." Sloan whispers
James smirks and he pulls a single hand from the younger males waist, bringing it up and cupping the side of Sloan's face, staring deeply down at his lips. "Let's not think about Steve or anybody else, especially when all I want to do is kiss you and make sweet love to you under this cherry tree, like we do every Friday night." James whispers
Sloan smiles. "Like every Friday night." Sloan whispers back
....
Friday, 1943.
Sloan stares at the letter addressed to him, he clears his throat and he places it down onto his bed. He grabs his grey shirt and he begins buttoning it up, staring off, tired.
There was a brief moment of silence as the song changes on the station, a familiar song quicks to a start on the radio, making him pause and look up. He smiles, a warm feeling running down his body. Memories of that particular song begin to play in his head.
Suddenly keys jingle from just outside his apartment door, making him look up. The door clicks open. There was a brief rustling, before complete silence.
"Hey, Doll!!" A voice calls out. "Yeah!!!" Sloan calls back. "Why is there a cat in the middle of our apartment!" Bucky yells out.
Sloan grimaces, finishing on his shirt, turning around from his bed and he makes his way into the living room, silently cursing when he bumps his hip into the dresser.
Bucky's back was pressed against the wall, eyes wide in fear. Sloan lets out a small laugh. Sloan crouches down and he calls over the small feline. The blue eyed animal purrs but she completely ignores the male and she makes her way to Bucky, who slightly trembles.
Sloan pouts but he stands back up, watching the two, only to smile when Bucky softens to the cat. "It's a stray, she followed me home." Sloan says
Bucky chuckles breathlessly, hesitantly reaching down and scratching the animals back. "You seem to have a thing for that." Bucky states, smiling fondly.
Sloan tilts his head, confused. "What do you mean." Sloan asks, licking his lips nervously.
Bucky looks up with a smirk. "Taking in strays, you took me in when we met." Bucky says, eyes shinning with love.
Sloan smiles, walking over and crouching down to his level, leaning forward and nudging the males nose with his, making Bucky peer up at him. Bucky finally tilts his head up fully and the corner of his lips curls up in a smug smirk.
"Oh shut up." Sloan breaths, kissing Bucky softly on the lips. "Do you want to get some dinner?" Bucky mumbles, probing his tongue into Sloans willing mouth.
"You know we can't go out." Sloan mumbles back. Bucky hums, still petting the small cat, making Sloan chuckle and pull back. "I know Sloan, I meant let's go get take out, Chinese?" Bucky asks, widening his eyes innocently.
Sloan smiles, shaking his head in amusement.
....
Bucky and Sloan both laugh as Charlie Chaplin dance in their small television. In front of them was neatly placed take out. Suddenly the front door flies opens, making the two males pull apart. Sloan snatches his leg from on top of Bucky's and Bucky moves his hand from Sloans hip. Both of them straightening up. They both watch as Steve struggles past the door, carrying his large canvases.
Steve groans loudly and he huffs, stretching his back with a loud moan in relief.
Steve looks up and he meets the two brunettes gaze, he stands up straight. "Is that Chaplin and Chinese?" Steve asks
