#bucksquared

(Did great!)

Handsy.

The moment the RAF man says it, Buck knows a fight is on the horizon. Usually, he tries to talk down Curt and Bucky. But the way this RAF man is looking at him. The way he's been poking and prodding at them about their daytime missions. Part of Buck sees it's insecurity. These boys have been holding onto their country by their fucking fingernails, and Buck is sympathetic to what feels like fear they haven't done their work good enough on their own.

Buck reads people, and these pilots are tired and drunk and a little pissed off because they wanted to do the jobs themselves. He can sympathize. He really can.

But it's one thing to tease about how Bucky touches. It's another to imply that it's wrong somehow. Bucky's touch is one of the few things that brings Buck a little quiet in this fucking war, and he won't have it insulted.

So, there's going to be a fight.

Buck's father taught him to fight. Not in a bonding way, but in the way a man teaches a boy to fight because the man is a degenerate gambler and the boy may be taken for collateral. Buck delivered his first knock-out punch at age 10. He was thin as a rail, arms bruised from being grabbed by a loan shark's underling, and terrified he would be murdered. He was also certain this would all happen again because it had happened before.

If he can help it, Buck doesn't fight. He knows too much about how to really hurt someone, and he doesn't want to take any chances. Curt and Bucky, they fight like boys who like to tussle. Who grew up wrestling around with other boys their size. Who went home at night and went to bed and didn't worry that their fathers were going to stumble in drunk and raging and blaming them for costing them money they could use to win big.

Buck punched out his father at thirteen. It didn't gain him the man's respect. It didn't make Buck feel any better. But for a little while, it was quiet.

This fight, now, the one they're all tumbling out of the bar to have, it's not about getting a little quiet. It's not about saving his skin. It's a fight he should had to Curt or Bucky and let run the course these fights always do. A punch or two, some shit-talking, and then it's all fine again.

But the way the pilot had said it rattles in his head. Handsy. Like it's silly or stupid or wrong.

"I'm taking this one," Buck says to Bucky and Curt as they argue over who's going to fight. They both still and stare at him.

"You don't fight," Curt says.

"Buck?" Bucky asks, his inflection doing the work of asking if Buck's okay.

"I don't usually fight," Buck says to Curt. "But I'm taking this one."

"Hey," Bucky says. He touches Buck's arm, same as he always does. Casual as anything.

How dare those men mock that touch.

Buck gives Bucky a sharp grin. "I love boxing," he says. "Two men facing off in a one-on-one challenge."

Bucky's eyes go bright with amusement. He skims his fist against Buck's jawline in the softest imitation of a punch. "So, you do like sports," he says.

Buck chuckles. "I like boxing," he says.

There's a shout from behind them, the RAF boys want to know if they're gonna do this or not.

"Gimmie your jacket," Curt says, holding out his hands. "You're gonna move better if you don't have it."

Buck strips it off and hands it over. He squeezes Curt's shoulder, then turns and cups Bucky's face for a moment. Bucky's whole face shifts. He knows why Buck's doing this. Know's why he's chosen to fight.

"My honor can take another ding, I promise," Bucky mutters.

Buck grins and slaps him lightly on the cheek. A love tap. A little affection. A connection. "Place your bets, boys," he says and steps over to show these British boys how it's done.

It's over in less than a minute. The other pilot's got good form, but he's never fought for anything more than some momentary pride. Buck lets him jab at him twice, then pops him in the jaw hard enough he drops to the ground.

Bucky and Curt whoop, and then Buck's feet are off the ground, Bucky's arms wrapped around him as he holds him tight and spins in a circle.

"Got a world champion here, boys!" He shouts.

Buck holds his arms up in the classic boxer's victory pose. Curt whoops again and slaps his chest. Bucky carries Buck down the street hollering that if the boys want a rematch, they know where to find them.

Half a block down, Bucky puts Buck on his feet and grabs his face in his hands. "Hot damn, Buck. You really know your stuff."

"That was the most beautiful jab I've ever seen," Curt says. "Fucking magical."

Buck shrugs. Now that the fight is over, he feels a little silly he felt the need to participate.

Bucky pulls Buck to him and lands a loud, smacking kiss on his forehead. "Curt, this man has defended our honor. Let's get him a piece of white bread and a glass of water."

Curt cackles and leads the way down the street. Bucky cups the back of Buck's neck and presses their foreheads together.

"Some mouthy idiot in a bar is never got stop me touching you," he says, as serious as he was light-hearted a moment ago.

Buck licks the corner of his mouth and reaches up to hold Bucky's arm. "He was insulting you," he says. "That's my job."

Iris, a Persephone!John and Hades!Gale AU | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Interlude | Part 4 | Part 5

(if you want to feel the vibe while you read, click here)

Run. Run. Run. Every shred of instinct screamed at Persephone to keep running, his powers felt foreign, unresponsive and useless in a way that made him sick to his stomach. He could feel his body wanting to give in, panic threatening to overrun him, exhaustion wanting to drown him into the earth. The world around was swallowed in darkness, no light in the dark black forest. He was certain it had been a crescent moon when he had walked out of his father’s temple.

reunited - kindsummer

I haven’t had the time to properly comment on your 2buck sexy prompt fill but please do know I will BECAUSE IT HAS BEEN LIVING RENT FREE IN MY HEAD. So fucking well written (pace, words, characterizations, aaaaah). I ramble, sorry.

Back to the point at hand, PROMPT(s) for my two favorite idiots (Buck/Bucky):

- post war bliss, let’s heal the boys a bit and give them their happiness

- set whenever, possessive Gale (boy is 100% unhinged, called it day 1 when Greenland tower control told him to circle back and he just floored it like a goddamn pro)

- magpie behavior John, he just collects stuff for Gale and brings it to him, it’s a character trait (bikes, shit needed to make a crystal radio, boy just does)

- observer Gale, he just loves the physicality John moves in when he’s in Major mode and when he gets the rare chance to look without being seen or having to worry what is seen on his face he just looks and lets himself feel it

- talismans, I love the idea of both of them having something that means ‘I am of my beloved and my beloved is of mine’

- literally whatever other sexy scenario you can concoct, your whiskey one has rewired a couple of circuits in my brain

- soulmarks, on the basis that I’m a sucker for them

Bonus for good ole Benny De Marco as Gale’s keeper when John isn’t around while at the same time John’s handler when Gale’s not there (ngl this is because of the way Buck yells De Marco’s name in the pilot, my boys are MATES™️).

I am afraid I single-handedly murdered your inbox, please forgive me.

Thank you in advance and cheers ✨❤️

(These are all amazing, and I would like to encourage anyone who is reading this and gets an idea from one of these to write you one of the ones I don't [or write the one I did but as your own thing!])

In the barracks, each bed comes with a side table. It has a drawer and a lamp. Most of the boys keep a photo of a loved one on the top, a skin mag in the drawer, and whatever they carry in their pockets each day next to the photo.

Buck's is different because he keeps whatever he carries in his pockets in the drawer, and on the table itself is a collection of random objects that look like he's collecting odds and ends with no real sense. Amongst the clutter are the following things:

A skeleton key with a filigree 'G' carved into the head.

A rock that shines when the sunlight hits it during the day.

A broken bracelet made of blue stones.

A tiny piece of foil shaped into an oak leaf cluster.

The first time a replacement asks about it--because Major Cleven doesn't seem the type to collect odds and ends--Demarco barks a laugh and buys the replacement a drink.

"It's not Cleven's collection. Well, it is. But it's not."

The replacement stares at Demarco. "Uh-huh. Clear as mud."

Demarco sighs. "They're all his, but he didn't pick them, okay?"

"That's no clearer."

Demarco shrugs. "You'll figure it out."

A week later, the replacement is reading in his bunk when Major Egan walks in, giggly and flushed from drinking. He drops hard onto Major Cleven's bed. Major Cleven is--or was--sleeping, but he wakes up and huffs a laugh and says as calm and even as he seems to do everything. "What are you up to?"

Major Egan holds out a hand. "Look what I found!"

Major Cleven squints at Major Egan's hand. "It's a penny."

"No, look closer," Major Egan says. He picks up the penny with his other hand and holds it very close to Major Cleven's eyes. "Look."

Major Cleven grabs Major Egan's wrist and pulls it back a few inches. He squints at the penny, then reaches over and flicks on his lamp. He squints at the penny again. "It's still a penny, John."

"No, it's your birth year," Major Egan says. "See?" He points. "And I found it heads up! It's double good luck for you."

The replacement suddenly realizes neither of them have clocked that he's there. He coughs politely, and suddenly, both Majors are looking at him.

"Is this your first time experiencing Major Egan in his magpie form?" Major Cleven asks.

"Uh," the replacement says.

"He acts like it's silly, but he keeps all of them," Major Egan says, gesturing to Major Cleven.

The replacement expects Major Cleven to scoff or shove Major Egan off his bed. Instead, he smiles and holds out his hand.

"I don't act like it's silly," Major Cleven says and looks at his table for a long moment before setting down very precisely. "I just can't follow your booze-soaked reasoning when you wake me up in the middle of the night."

Major Egan flops sideways so he's taking over half of Major Cleven's bed. "It's only ten, you old man."

Major Cleven stares at Major Egan. "We have an audience, John."

"Eh," Major Egan says and rolls over, stealing Major Cleven's pillow.

"Hey, give that back!" Major Cleven says, yanking the pillow, but Major Egan isn't giving it up.

The replacement doesn't know what to do, so he goes back to his book. The next night at the officer's club, he buys Demarco a drink.

"What was it this time?" Demarco asks.

"A penny from his birth year that he found face up."

Demarco bursts into laughter. "Oh, that's a whole new level of lovesick."

"Are they together?"

[No queerphobia but also Buck keeps his feelings right here in his chest and one day, he'll die]

"Come to London with me," Bucky says. "We'll paint the town red." His offer is sincere, but he truly doesn't know if Buck will agree or not. He watches Buck chew his toothpick and wishes he could lean in and pull it from his mouth, hold his jaw and kiss him in front of Meatball and everyone.

But Buck's not affectionate like that. He's funny and smart-mouthed, giving Bucky affection with teases and little nudges. Bucky's just glad Buck doesn't mind how affectionate he is. How he needs to rotate around Buck like the Earth to the sun. Have an arm around him, grab his chin, sometimes even bite at him through his uniform.

"Sure," Buck says, breaking Bucky from his thoughts. "I'll go to London with you." His smile builds slowly as Bucky stares at him. "Oh, come on, I'm not a complete wet blanket."

Bucky grins and wraps an arm around Buck's waist. "Just slightly damp sometimes," he says and laughs when Buck shoves his shoulder. "Come on. Let's make tracks before they stop us."

*

Bucky only means to stop at the hotel for a quick shower and a change of clothes, but two minutes after he steps under the water, Buck crowds in with him.

"Oh, hey," Bucky says. "You want to--" He cuts off when Buck grabs his hips, digging in his fingers, and presses his cheek between Bucky's shoulder blades. "Buck?"

Buck rubs his cheek back and forth and wraps his arms around Bucky's waist. He softly kisses the back of Bucky's neck, and then he nudges Bucky forward so they're both under the water.

"Buck?" Bucky asks again.

"I can't--" Buck kisses behind Bucky's ear, then drags his hands up Bucky's torso. "You're so much better at this."

Bucky shakes his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Buck traces Bucky's ribs, making him shiver, and then he drags his mouth down Bucky's neck and shoulder and halfway down his bicep. "This," he says. "Touching."

"You're doing just fine there," Bucky says as another shiver works its way over him. Buck's nosing his spine, running his hands up and down Bucky's side from armpits to hips.

"I want to. All the time. Touch you. But I--" Buck shakes his head. "There's reasons, Bucky. I wish I didn't have them but--"

Bucky turns around. He touches Buck's chin, and Buck lifts this head to meet his eyes. "Hey, you don't have to explain to me, okay? We're usually around people, and you don't like to share. I know you."

Buck grins faintly. "It's not that I don't like to share. It's that it's..." He sighs and presses his face against Bucky's colllar bone. Licks once, then bites down lightly, just like Bucky does to him sometimes. "I used to be jealous about how easy you are with touching everyone. Not that you were touching everyone. Just that you could. Can."

"You touch me as little or as much as you want anywhere, anytime, Buck. Just mean it when you do it, yeah?" Bucky feels Buck nod against him. "But if you wanted to work on it," he says, intentionally adding a sing-song quality to his voice, "you could just try to play a little more grab ass once in awhile."

There's a pause, then a snort, and then Buck is lifting his head to try and glare at Bucky, but he's smiling too much for it to be intimidating. "John, for fuck's sake."

Bucky shrugs. "I'm a man of simple needs," he says.

"You're a stone in my shoe," Buck replies.

Bucky laughs. "Yeah, you say that a lot. I know what it means."

"It means I love you," Buck says, going serious again. "It means I can feel you with me, even when I don't want to."

Bucky doesn't have an answer for that. He just pulls Buck close and holds him under the hot water.

*

After their shower, they sit in their robes and look out over London. Buck's leaned into Bucky's side, and Bucky's got his arm tight around Buck's shoulder.

Bucky strokes Buck's hair off his forehead and watches the furrow between Buck's eyebrows slowly deepen. He kisses the spot but doesn't ask what Buck's thinking about. He'll say it or he won't.

Buck turns and throws his legs over Bucky's lap. He scoots closer, wrapping an arm around Bucky's head and pressing his forehead to Bucky's temple.

"Can I tell you something?" Buck asks, the whisper barely carrying.

"You can tell me anything," Bucky says. He wraps his arm around Buck's calves, smiling when Buck turns his knees in a little so there's even more contact.

"My dad," Buck starts. He closes his eyes and sighs. "He taught me not to show affection. Not any kind. It could be used against me. Against him. If anyone thought I actually liked him, I might get taken for whatever he owed someone."

"Jesus Christ," Bucky breathes out.

"And I've tried to learn not to listen to the part of myself that learned that lesson. But it's hard. Especially when..." Buck opens his eyes and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. "We're in the middle of a war, John. One of us could get an engines shot out tomorrow--"

"Buck--"

"No. Shut up. Listen to me, okay. Just listen to me."

"Look at me at least," Bucky says. "If you're going to talk this shit, talk it to my face."

Buck sighs and meets Bucky's gaze. "It's not shit, and you know it. It's so bad up there you didn't even warn me."

Bucky winces but doesn't try to defend himself. Buck's right on the money, same as usual.

"We could die tomorrow, John. That's the truth. We both know it. And I--" Buck's breath shudders and he touches Bucky's neck, traces the shape of his ear. Presses his thumb to Bucky's mouth. Bucky kisses it, and Buck smiles, just a little. "I want to be better at this," he says. "I want to touch you all the time, but I also want to touch you all the time." He rubs Bucky's bottom lip.

"I hear you, Buck." Bucky says. "And I'm not kidding, okay? Whatever you can or can't do, just mean it. Just mean it, and we'll get on just fine."

Buck sighs and nods. He kisses Bucky, then rests his nose just behind Bucky's ear. "Whatever happens, John, just know I always mean it."

"Don't gotta tell me twice," Bucky replies, thinking of how often Buck's right at his side, leaned towards him with their arms pressed together. How often they're sat so their knees can knock. He thinks of the way Buck grabs his shoulder to steer him places, or just barely taps his elbow to get his attention. He touches Bucky all the time. Knowing he wants to touch him like this, all curled up on Bucky like he wants to fit exactly right in his lap, it takes Bucky's breath away.

"You know what? You don't ever have to tell me again if you don't want," Bucky adds, turning so his own nose is pressed against Buck's temple. "You're a man of your word, Gale. You ever change your mind, just say so."

"Don't think I could change my mind about you if I wanted to. "

And that warms Bucky from his head to his toes, that warm raspy voice rolling out a truth that makes Bucky feel ten feet tall.

"You're a maniac," Bucky says. "I fucking love you."

"I fucking love you, too," Buck replies.

Iris, a Persephone!John and Hades!Gale AU | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Interlude | Part 4 | Part 5

“They are fearsome beasts you know,” a rumbling voice came from behind, “one should be careful with them.”

Persephone turned, breath held, one palm clutching the small creature tighter against his side, the other one open towards the voice. A sense of danger charged the air, razor sharp thorns and poisonous pollen ready to answer their godling’s call for protection. 

This was not going to happen again. He would tore them all to shreds before one hand could reach him. He knew he could, this time.

Just saw your post about prompts… 👀

If you’re interested, I’ve been dying for a very particular Buck/Bucky fic, where, during the interrogation scene, the officer has Gale brought in to try and get answers out of Buck ✨

Im a sucker for the extreme angsty stuff, but other than that, I’ll leave the prompt broad and up to your interpretation!

Thank you! ♥️

(This went more "two Steve McQueens fight a couple nazis" and less "oh god why must I watch you be hurt" but I hope you enjoy! Personally, I think Buck's likely the shithouse crazy one of them when it comes down to it, and Bucky just tags along when it happens.)

[cw: blood mention]

After several minutes of going back and forth, the interrogator questioning and Bucky replying over and over with his name, rank, and serial number, the interrogator pauses, then says, "Well, let us try something else."

Bucky expects the man to stand up and threaten him. Instead, he pushes a button on his desk. There's a buzzing outside the office.

Bucky expects guards and guns, maybe a fight. He keeps his seat even as the door opens, ready to spring up if needed but trying to hold himself in check.

There's two sets of footsteps, and then Bucky looks to his left where they stop.

It's a guard, all right. And next to him, still in his uniform, is Buck. He's bruised and busted, though not as badly as Bucky. He's standing at ease, like he's not shocked to see Bucky.

But Buck looks not shocked to people who don't know him a lot of the time. Bucky, though, he can read that face like his favorite book. And Buck's face is stoic, but there's mayhem in his eyes.

"John Egan," Buck says, and Bucky leans forward, ready to go, "What took you so long?"

"Well, I had to come back from London, you know," Bucky replies. "Told you you should have come with."

"Maybe next time I will," Buck says. He licks the corner of his mouth where there's a spot of blood. He looks at the interrogator. "I suppose I'm here for a reason."

The interrogator smiles thinly. He rests on his desk and waves at the guard, who takes two steps back.

Stupid, Bucky thinks. Absolutely and fantastically stupid.

"Major Egan is not being forthcoming," the interrogator says. "And you have also not been forthcoming, Major Cleven."

"Attaboy," Bucky says in his most obnoxious drawl. It makes the interrogator glare at him. Perfect.

"If you think showing me Egan's alive is going to be make me cooperate with you, you're wrong," Buck says, cool as you please. He scratches his wrist. The guard behind him doesn't even twitch. Bucky catches the way Buck's hand doesn't fully uncurl when he drops it to his side again.

"What he said," Bucky adds.

"You Americans and your confidence," the interrogator says, looking like he wants to spit. "Always so certain you can't be stopped."

Bucky shrugs and slouches further in his chair. He finishes his cigarette, stares at the interrogator, and flicks the butt to the floor. The man's nostrils flare. "Buck, when we're out of here, I'm taking you dancing."

"You can try," Buck says, and Bucky moves at the same moment Buck does, grabbing the interrogator by the throat and snatching the letter opener off of the desk. He stabs him through the jugular, holding him up as he bleeds all over his pristine uniform.

He lays the interrogator on the floor and glances at Bucky. The guard's down, too. His neck slashed clean across. There's a razor blade with fabric wrapped around the dull side next to him.

"How'd you get a razor blade?" Bucky asks as he takes the interrogator's gun and knife and searches through his pockets. He finds money and a gold watch.

"They made me scrub their bathrooms," Buck says. "I think it was meant to emasculate me. I found it in the wastebasket."

"They didn't search you?" Bucky asks. He walks to the door and presses his ear to it. There's no noise outside.

"They're undisciplined," Buck says. "Not lazy or dumb, but undisciplined."

Bucky reads between the lines. It won't be easy or simple to get out of here, but the men here won't be expecting a fight. "It's quiet out there," he says.

Buck walks up next to Bucky and hands him a box of ammunition. He tucks two folders into his jacket, then tucks another two into Bucky's. They all have a large stamp on the front that seems to imply importance. "Where's your sheepskin?"

"Traded it out," Bucky says. "You hated it."

Buck stares at him for a moment, then pulls him in and kisses him. "You ever fly without it again, I'll shoot you down myself."

Bucky kisses back. "I'm telling Marge you paused my heroic rescue to kiss me like a bad movie."

"I'm telling Marge you were dumb enough to get captured," Buck replies. He pulls Bucky into a quick hug that Bucky happily returns. "Ready?" Buck asks, holding up the knife he's stolen. His gun's tucked into his waistband so he can grab the doorknob.