[Stucky One Shots and Drabbles]

Keep Haunting Me (I'm Begging You To)

                  Title shamelessly stolen from the Halsey song Haunting  btw. I'm no good at clever titles.

Shrinkyclinks!! (Aka WinterSoldier! Bucky and PreSerum!Steve

                        It was a good night for the Soldier.

He had completed his mission without a single flaw, wiping the acquired target's existence as if it had never been.

His handlers had even given him a small nod and an almost grateful, "Well done, Soldier." that made him feel good inside. Like he was something a little less than simply a weapon for their use.

The Soldier isn't sure when he will be going back under- back into the cold, back into the cage that grasped him tightly with icy hands and forced him into an unwanted, relentless slumber until he was needed again. It might be right away in the morning, or it might be after he completes a mission or two for his handlers again.
But for now, he'd been led to a cell with three grey walls made out of cement and one made out of bars, allowing his handlers to make sure he didn't step out of line.
There was even a small bed in the corner this time instead of simply a few blankets tossed into the corner. The Soldier felt spoiled.

Now, he's laying on the mattress, enjoying the feathery surface that cradles his head so nicely. He can't remember the last time he'd slept on something so nice.
But then again, he doesn't remember much of anything.

Then, in almost in instant, the Soldier knows that he's there.

His Angel.

The room seems brighter and the air seems lighter, if that's even possible. The Soldier feels excitement coil in his stomach.

There, at the foot of the mattress is the boy.
Or maybe he's a man, the Soldier isn't certain.
His body is small like a child's, but the Soldier's heard his voice enough to know that there's nothing childlike about the deep tone of it that sends involuntary shivers up the Soldier's spine.

Whatever he is, the Soldier knows that he's the complete opposite of him. The person at the end of the mattress has neatly styled, light colored hair that looks like it's spun from gold, where the  where the Soldier's is dark and long and always appears messy looking.

His skin is different as well- the Soldier's is marred at least a little almost everywhere. Mainly from missions gone wayward, but some from when he's stepped out of line and his handlers had deemed it necessary for him to have those scars.
The man at the end of his mattress possesses fair, flawless looking skin. The Soldier longs to run his fingers across every inch of it.

The man that the Soldier's seen so many times but has never learned the name of is as pure as river, where the Soldier is something else. Something murky and filthy. Something evil.

Then the Angel moves, and he's laying on the mattress beside the Soldier. His pretty pink lips softly curl into a smile as he says softly, "Hi."

The man next to him is just small enough that they can both fit on the mattress without touching. The Soldier longs to touch him of course, but refuses himself the privilege to.
He's also aware somewhere in the back of his mind that the man beside him isn't real.
The Soldier knows that his mind isn't right at all, that he's deranged and nearly destroyed, but he allows himself the comfort of his imaginary companion.

"I've missed you." The Solider admits. He immediately regrets speaking. His voice isn't soft and smooth as a river like the blond's. His is rough and breaky from disuse of it, like gravel.

The man beside him doesn't seem to mind as he brings his small hand up and rests it right where the Soldier's neck meets his shoulder blade. "I missed you, too."

The Soldier drinks in the sight of his Angel's eyes like he's been thirsty for them for years. They're the color of a perfect afternoon sky, the lightest of light blues, putting all other eye colors the shame.
The Soldier envisioned them in his mind often, keeping himself company with just the picture often.
He wants to reach his hand up and curl it around the man's smaller one. He wants to know what the flesh of it would feel like beneath his own, if it would be soft like he's imagined.

But he denies himself that pleasure. He won't touch him.
His hands are bad.  His hands have killed, and he refuses to let something so dark touch something like the man next to him, something so light and beautiful. 

The angel beside gives a little sigh and moves a little closer. They're still not touching, but there's only a few inches between them now.

The Soldier opens his mouth to speak and tells the Angel what he always tells him when he comes to visit. "You shouldn't be here."

"Why not?" The Angel replies back, like he always does. His brow furrows slightly like he can't figure out why the Soldier would say such a thing.
The Soldier envies his innocence. 

"Because  I'm bad."  The Soldier says simply. 

The Angle's thumb begins to move in little circles along his collarbone. "No, you're not. You've been hurt."

"And I've made other people hurt." He argues back.

The blond shakes his head softly, silently disagreeing.  "No. You're good."

The Soldier knows that it won't do any good to argue with him any longer. They always have this argument,  and each time, his Angel insists that he's not a monster or machine. He tells him that he's good.

His Angel brushes a few strands of the Soldier's hair behind his ear and smiles softly. "You're good." He whispers softly. "I promise."

The Soldier lets out a soft noise as he gazes into the man's eyes. "You'll be gone when I wake up." He says solemnly.  "You always are."

The blond nods. "I will be. But I'll be back. I'll always come back. "

This was true. His Angel always did return to him.
His angel took the Soldier's metal arm- the one that the Soldier despises- and placed his hand over the mechanical bicep of it. He ran his fingers up and down the metal plating like he was playing a piano.  "I'm yours."  He admits softly.
"If anything in this world belongs to you, it's me. Not even your handlers can take me from your mind."

The Soldier lets out a whimper. He's never understood what he'd ever done to earn himself such a sweet angel, but he wasn't complaining. 

Hours later, he falls asleep as the Angel still moves his fingers delicacy along his inhuman arm.

After the Soldier's  eyes are closed, the Angle fades away until next time.

~

             In the morning, the Soldier is placed back into the ice,  where he will remain until again needed.

He always dreads the thought of another mission, another target,  another kill, but he can't help but to be a little excited to see his Angle again.