#captainrogerrsbeard

Shadows seeped off the walls and ground. From hidden corners. Drawn to the darkness that the faeries brought with them. They were the reason the Summer faerie had no light. Too much darkness pulsed around him, kept it locked inside him--even during his time of day.

While Bucky wouldn't normally interfere with the antics of the faeries in his Court, this he could not allow. Not only did he just stumble upon three Dark Faeries knocking around one Summer Faerie on his own, these three obviously didn't know the Summer Fey happened to be the son of his queen's bodyguard. Queen Peggy would not take this lightly if it got back to her.

Still, Bucky learned against the brick wall just inside the alley anyway. He watched. Watched as one Dark Faerie shoved the Summer Faerie to the ground. He splashed in a puddle, water splashing up in his face. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His right eye swelled with a patch of ugly purple. No doubt his nose had been hot, too.

“Give it up,” one of the Dark Faeries hissed, even going so far as kicking dirt in his face “Just stay down.”

None of that stopped the Summer Faerie from pushing back up to his feet again. Didn't matter how hard his elbows shook or the sweat that dripped from his chin. He rose to his feet and held his tightly clenched fists out to them.

Panting, he looked the challenger right in his eyes. Said, “I can do this all day,” and swung again.

Small or not, he was still a faerie and, caught off guard, the punch to the chin threw that one Dark Faerie off his feet. Rather than tending do their comrade, the other two closed in tighter on the Summer Faerie.

Bucky, having seen enough,  pushed off the wall then and strolled closer.

“Hey!” he exclaimed from a few feet away. “Pick on someone your own size.”

Already chuckling at the interruption, the other two began to turn. When they saw who stopped them, their faces fell.

“Your Highness,” one of them said, voice trembling. “What are you doing up?”

Bucky scoffed. “Explain to me how that's any of your business.”

One of the others, the one knocked over by the Summer Faerie, actually, spoke next.

“Forgive me companion, My Liege,” he said. “His tongue runs from him.”

“And the rest of you?” Bucky asked. “What excuse do you have for attacking the son of Queen Peggy's bodyguard?”

Eyes growing wide, the three gawked at Bucky before looking back at their victim, who no longer held his defensive stance, but hardly backed away from aggression. When they looked back to Bucky again, it was with desperate and helpless expressions. They knew the consequences this could hold. There weren't many Fey off-limits to the Dark Court. This one, however, was one of them.

“W-We…” The third finally spoke. “We didn't know who he was. P-Please, Your Highness, forgive us.”

“You think I have such power to do that?” Bucky asked. “To show you mercy on matters concerning the Courts? After you've gone for the son of a Queen's bodyguard?”

This, he actually could do. As the Dark Prince, he did have a say in the politics that went on between Courts. Not that he would stick his neck out for three fey that got their shits and giggles out of knocking around one fey on their own. They were not the type Bucky wanted the Dark Court to be known for. Sure, they had their own unique reputation to uphold; a reputation much different than those of the Summer Court. All the Seasonal Courts, really.

The Dark Court was made of nightmares. They were the reasons people looked over their shoulders at night. Mayhem. Chaos. They were the balance to the Light.  

Necessary, of course, but that did not mean they needed to behave the way Bucky just witnessed, and Bucky would not have such embarrassing fledglings in his Court. Not without teaching them a lesson.

“Go back to the Dark Forest,” Bucky ordered, his own shadows making a mask over his face as the message seeped into theirs. “You can either wait for me or confess your crimes to the Dark King.”

Helping each other out of the alley as quickly as possible, Bucky was assured that they'd wait for him, that they were so very grateful, that he was such a merciful prince. Once they were gone, Bucky snickered darkly to himself. Then, he turned to look at the Summer Fey. Who wiped himself off and returned the look.

“Don't say a word,” he grumbled at Bucky.

Bucky grinned at him. He couldn't help himself. That’d been the same greeting he’d been getting from him for almost a year now. Bucky’d learned that he didn’t quite have to listen. Not anymore, anyway.

“Like what?”

“Probably something about wondering if I like getting punched.”

That grin widened. “Don't count it as something I've not wondered before.”

“I had ‘em on the ropes.”

“All of them?”

“It was part of my plan,” he explained. “To make them underestimate me.”

“I think you had that part down, Steve,” Bucky said. “Are they the reason you didn't meet me at the diner?”

Steve flicked a stern but playful gaze at him and pointed a long index finger right at his chest. Sunlight, though it still hadn’t filled Steve’s body, singed a tiny hole in Bucky’s shirt.

“Do I need to explain myself to you, Darkling?”

“I like this shirt,” Bucky grumbled, wiping a bit of ash away. He sighed with a roll of his eyes when he realized Steve was still giving him a very pointed expression. “No, My Faerie. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

Steve smiled before letting loose a silly laugh, pinching his tongue between his teeth.

“I didn't do it on purpose,” he said. “Not make it to the diner, I mean. But I saw them following someone and--”

“You don't have to explain,” Bucky replied. “I’m the one in your debt and these're your daylight hours to do with what you want. They're not supposed to be harassing anyone during someone else's time. Although, you did stand me up. I do think you should make it up to me.”

Steve snorted at Bucky’s boldness. Now that he was no longer surrounded darkness, Steve’s sunlight started to sneak back to the surface. It caught through his golden hair and would shine brilliantly if Steve called it forward. Still, when Steve looked through those thick lashes of his, Bucky could see a flicker of light in them.

“You’re in my debt,” Steve reminded him. “And I should make it up to you because I couldn’t make it to a place I told you to meet me?”

“It’s rude not to keep a scheduled appointment,” Bucky said, “wouldn’t you agree? You called me to the diner and never showed.”

“Things happen,” Steve pointed out. “Sometimes people need to cancel.”

“You didn’t cancel. You never showed. Should I assume you had some menial job for me that no longer needs to be done?”

This, Steve ignored. Whatever it was he’d originally summoned Bucky for, apparently, he’d never find out. Or at least, not now anyway. Steve allowed his sunlight to reach the tips of his fingers.

“Are you really going to punish those three?” Steve asked. Drawn in by that shine, Bucky only nodded. “Why?”

Bucky always found it a struggle to lie to Steve. Ever since they met, he just had trouble getting his lies to untangle off his tongue. The lies he tried to tell Steve, anyway.

“Because,” Bucky whispered, unable to look back at Steve and trained his gaze on his shoes, “they put their hands on you.”

“And what happened?” Steve took a step forward. “Did the Dark Prince get jealous?”

Bucky cringed at that, but he couldn't quite deny it. Not that he'd ever touch Steve the way they did, but they still touched him. No one touched Steve. Ever. Which was completely unreasonable, of course people touched Steve. The Summer Court, in particular, was known for affection and playfulness. No doubt Steve participated in their fun and revelries. That was just part of being a Summer Fey.

Which left Bucky helpless to admit, “Yes.”

“Because you think no one is allowed to touch me,” Steve murmured, coming closer again, “except you. Isn't that right, Bucky?”

“St-Steve,” Bucky stuttered. “I… I didn’t…”

“But it’s the other way around, isn’t it, Your Highness?” Bucky swallowed the shadows in his throat. “You’re in my debt. You belong to me, don’t you?”

“I…”

“Say it, my Darkling.”

“Yes,” Bucky whispered. “Yes, My Faerie.”  

“Which means what, Bucky?”

“Only you can touch me.” When Steve, sunlight turned up enough it pushed even the Dark Prince's shadows back, looked him right in the eye, Bucky hurried to add, “Sir.”

Which he then reached out to do. Just a simple graze of his knuckles across Bucky’s cheek. The very instant their skin touched, just like always, Bucky's sizzle with sun and Steve's burned with shadows. The sensation washed right through Bucky's body. The wrongness. The taboo. How much they both held back and put forth to do this for each other.

Both of them quivered with the sensation of day and night colliding. Panted. A bit of sweat kissed right along Bucky’s hairline. All from of stroke of Steve’s fingers.

“Come on, beautiful,” Steve whispered, breathing just a tease of a kiss along Bucky's lips and burning him with thoughts of more. “Lemme go make this up to you.”

“Will you allow me to patch you up, Sir?” Bucky asked. Pretty much begged. He hated seeing Steve all banged up, but knew Steve's Summer streak meant stubborn pride. “Please?”