fugue // stucky

24. Sky and Sea

I push my oatmeal around the bowl, staring at the flakes as they stick to each other and become cold.

"Hey," a soft whisper sounds from across the wooden table. I clink my spoon down against the edge of the ceramic and put my elbows on the table, letting my head fall into my hands.

I walk around with an IV needle in me at all times, a huge metal stick with a pack of fluids at the top being scooted around wherever I go. I prefer this over that pain, though. I shiver just thinking about what's going on up in my head.

"Bucky," a hand touches my shoulder and I close my eyes. Steve groans and I hear his chair scoot out and bare feet on the massive granite tiles. Tony gave us an entire floor to ourselves. It didn't surprise me, seeming how there are so many of them. This floor is high up, with glass walls so you can watch the morning sun rise. I sat for hours gazing at the stars as Steve slept, clutched to my side.

A large, warm hand presses against my side and another snakes behind my back. I'm lifted up, then carried back over to where Steve was sitting. He sits down, then positions me so I'm straddling him. His arms rest on me, a loud sigh emitting his nose.

"Well?" He says, his fingers absentmindedly moving up and down my body. I open my eyes and stare at him. He is so beautiful. He always has been.

"You're breath-taking," I blurt out, resting my arms around his shoulders, "you have the entire sky trapped in your eyes." He furrows his brows, his chest moving up and down slowly.

"And it listens to you, the sky does. Storms flash when you're angry. The sun twinkles when you smile. It's crazy, how you are so much, but don't know it. Your voice is like the sea. It's so smooth and calming, like it's luring you to sleep. Hurricanes twirl when you yell, waves flow idly against the shore when you whisper. God, Steve," I look at my lap, then lay my head on his shoulder, "how could anyone ever forget you."

His hands roam across my back, moving against the grooves and metal plating. Butterflies are let loose in my stomach, "I don't understand how I, out of everyone, got you."

It's completely silent except for Steve and I's synced breathing. He slowly drags his hands up my back, down my arms, careful not to touch the needles. His hands massage me all over, squeezing the tension out of my thighs, his fingers dance against my neck and I sigh into his, a tiny groan in my throat. I move my face up an inch and press my lips to his skin, lingering there. I feel him move down to the small of my back, placing his fingertips down and moving in circles, easing me to slump in his arms. My eyes close, reveling in the feeling.

No words are exchanged, his palms glide up my sides again, folding under my arms and pressing against my back muscles. He runs his fingernails over the skin lightly. Steadily, his hands make their way up to my neck again, setting around it and cautiously lifting my head up. His eyes are hooded, looking at me as if I were the last thing in the world. My mouth hangs open, gentle breaths ghosting over him.

His thumbs stroke across my jawline, faintly leaving lines across my skin. He watches them as they move up to my mouth, tracing the sharp outline and pressing my bottom lip under my teeth and groaning. He pushes down on my chin and my lip pops loose. His eyes dart up to mine, dark and hungry.

"Right now, it's snowing," I whisper and he crashes his lips onto mine. I squeak at the impact, then melt into him. Steve Rogers is an excellent kisser. He drags his tongue across my bottom lip and I open for him, causing him to latch his hands onto my hips and press his body tightly to mine.

"You're not leaving me again, never. Do you hear me?" He growls in between contact, as much force as he can muster.

I nod and chase his lips with mine, the fluttering in my heart almost as distracting as his taste.

"I need to hear you say it," he pulls back. His forehead presses against mine, his breath hitting my lips. I kiss the corner of his mouth and open my eyes.

His eyebrows are furrowed, his eyelids shut. He looks almost pained. My stomach drops and I frown. He needs this. He needs to hear it.

"I'm not leaving. I'm here, with you, forever."

He lets out a shaken sigh, his hands clutching tighter onto me. I lean forward and leave another kiss onto his temple, his cheekbone, his jaw, his nose, his eyelids.

"I can't believe I could have been doing this for a hundred years," I pout and put my hands on his chest. He chuckles and opens his eyes. They're sad and full of loss. Hail.

He cups my face and leaves another light kiss oh my mouth, biting my lip and letting it snap back as he pulls away.

"You have me for a hundred more," he whispers and I smile, running my thumbs over his cheekbones.

"Steve Rogers," I breathe out, "perfect."

"Far from it," he chuckles and leans his head back to look at me, a grin on his face. I stare at him longingly, then turn my head and look outside. The city is coming to life, the sunlight now yellow and coating the buildings. I hear a soft mumble of cars and a distant hum of electricity.

Slowly, I move my legs from around his waist and he pouts, grabbing onto them.

"I want a few more minutes with you before the day starts," he mutters, sliding my legs back up his thighs. I bite my lip and smirk, raising up my eyebrows.

"Oh, do you?" I ask, tracing my finger around his shirt collar. He rolls his eyes and his cheeks turn pink.

"Sue me for liking alone time with my boyfriend," he clucks, the pout still on his face.

"Boyfriend," I say the word, squinting one eye closed and tapping a finger on my chin, "boyfriend," I say again, tasting it, "you never really asked me out, you know," I cross my arms, cocking a brow.

His eyes light up, not a cloud in the sky. He clears his throat and stretches his arms. I giggle and bite my lip with a smile on my face.

"Bucky Barnes," he starts, his voice low. His big hands rest on either of my thighs, moving up and down slowly. I feel warmth spread through my body, happiness buzzing in my heart.

"Oh Lord, I said ask me out not propose," I hold in laughter and he pokes me in the side.

"Be quiet, I'm proposing," he looks at me from the corner of his eye. I grin and wrap my arms around his neck. He continues rubbing my legs.

"Bucky Barnes," he chuckles, looking up at me with sparkling eyes, "would you please make me the luckiest man in the world, the most fortunate soul in the universe, the most blessed person in all of the realms," he grows with volume with every line. I burst out laughing at his stupid grin.

"Shh! Quiet!" My stomach hurts with laughter. He's laughing too, his eyes watery as his smile grows, his nose scrunched and adorable.

We both slowly come down from our laughing fits with big goofy leers plastered on us. He looks at our laps with a smile from ear to ear, his hands still massaging my thighs.

"And be my boyfriend?" He finishes, looking up at me with shimmering eyes. I beam widely and run my fingers up through his hair.

"I don't really know you all too well-"

He lets out a loud groan and throws his head back. I snicker and wait for him to look back up at me before I nod, "yes, Steve Rogers, I'll be your stupid boyfriend."

He smiles from ear to ear and kisses me sweetly, "see? Aren't you glad we took those extra few minutes," he can't wipe the grin off of his face.

I kiss his cheek and lift off of him, reaching my arms up and stretching. I let out a groan as a rush of liquid hits my head and I press my hands against the edge of the table, my eyes squeezed close.

"Buck?" Hands press onto my stomach and back, steadying me.

"Just," I groan, "just my head."

He sighs and snakes his hand up my back and plays with my hair, kissing right below my ear. I'm grateful he's with me. I sigh through my nose.

"Can we just take the day off?" I whisper and he chuckles, kissing my jaw and rubbing my back.

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sorry it's so domestic lately.... watch out...