[ Bucky shows up soon after, waiting on the doorstep if there's no answer to his knock. Knowing another you presents all these odd opportunities for self reflection, but Bucky already does too much of that as it is, so he tries to let himself separate them more in his mind, even if he thinks they're both pretty similar in the ways that count.
For now, he's here as a concerned friend, though. Bucky needs that and he'll be here for him. ]
[James doesn't leave him waiting too long, just a few minutes, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he walks up to Bucky waiting by the place he shares with Clint. There's a worry there, of losing the blonde too, a whisper in the back of his mind that he tries not to think about.
He can't quite manage a smile, but he at least doesn't look like he's falling apart or anything. Not yet, anyway. He's quiet though, as he lets him in.]
[ He follows him in, not quite sure if this is one of those moments when he should hug the guy. Is that weird? He'd definitely hug Steve right now.
That thought gives him pause and then he takes a quick step to get in front of Bucky. There's always going to be something kind of weird about knowing another you, he figures, but they are friends. ]
Actually, you sit down and let me make coffee, okay?
[James is about to say something about of course he was going to have some, but then Bucky is stepping in front of him, an he nods, following the instructions, so he takes a seat on the couch.]
Just be careful. Clint likes that coffee maker.
[There's something to his voice there, that says that he's a little worried that Clint is gone too, even if he hasn't admitted that to himself just yet. The apartment is empty and that's not unusual, but today it feels rough. Something to talking about the coffeemaker, thinking about how he sets it every night so he has his coffee in the mornings. How that used to be their excuse- Clint's claim that the coffee was better. He touches his purple bracelet with a sigh.]
I'm happy to be here and I won't break your boyfriend's precious coffee maker.
[ Bucky laughs gently as he gets to making coffee for the both of them. Taking care of people is always where he feels the most like himself--that old him from before the war who kept his hair neat and his face shaved--before he was broken. He likes doing this. ]
You just relax. I've got this.
[ The second place he looks has mugs and he pulls two down to sit in front of the coffeemaker while it brews before he moves to take a seat on the couch, just barely far enough to not be touching, but then he rests his hand on Bucky's knee, anyway, and squeezes gently. ]
So I'm guessing your definition of okay is close to mine.
It's innocuous, or at least probably should be, but James flushes a little and his hands fidget before he catches himself. Maybe he should protest, but he can't quite bring himself to. Not right now, not when he's so very aware of just how much the idea of Clint vanishing hurts, of what losing him could feel like. Just like Steve, except no, maybe worse. And they haven't quite had that talk yet, he hasn't said that word or asked the question, but--
The way Bucky says it is so easy, that laughter, and he just lets it stand. Because fighting it feels more deceptive than anything, and whatever weird friendship this is that he has with his other-self, he tries to be honest. And he... has feelings for Clint, in a way that feels inescapable, even if he hasn't put it into words like that. He just curls up against him every night, calls to ask first when he'd been about to get a drunken piercing, feels his chest constrict all helpless when the light hits the blonde just right in the morning when Clint's only half-awake before his coffee.
But he lets Bucky make the coffee, smiles a little sweet and a little sad. He sighs as fingers rest on his knee, and he leans into him a little, his shoulder bumping into his side. Because he's right, of course, that James isn't really okay, and he just shakes his head with a low hum of bitter amusement.]
[ A gentle hum and then he shifts to wrap his arm around Bucky's shoulders. ]
Well, I've got you.
[ The coffee brews quietly in the background as he leans his head against the other man's. There aren't many people he feels truly comfortable with, but it's a little easier with a man who already knows most of his darkest secrets. They aren't wholly the same man, but they have enough in common where it counts. Not being comfortable seems counter-intuitive with that in play. ]
And even if you're okay, you can lean on me a little. If you want to.
[James sighs as he leans into the contact, the way the other man wraps an arm around his shoulders. There's something comforting about the sentiment, about the idea of having someone to hold onto, even if it's a some strange mirror version of himself.
Really, not all that strange in the scheme of his life, but he cuddles into him, slings an arm across his chest as he exhales, letting some of the tension drain out of his body. He's not okay, but this... this is nice. The warmth, the way that bodies pressed together. Being able to just enjoy the contact and the faint scent of the coffee Clint likes. Well, Clint likes pretty much all types of coffee, but James notices what he leans toward.]
You too, you know. If you ever need to.
[It's easier to make this about Bucky than it is to admit he's not handling it well, to talk about the why.]
Thanks, but I have a feeling we're just gonna do that sit together and make sad faces thing, aren't we?
[ It feels nice to cuddle close, though. Bucky's not always great at talking about his feelings, confused jumble that they are, but he's good at this physical side of it. Comfort, giving or receiving it, is easier when it can just be simple like this. Maybe it's easier because they share so much that a lot can sit in a box, unsaid but still perfectly understood.
He turns to kiss Bucky's temple, a gesture that would feel perfectly natural with Steve and just about no one else who's still alive. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
just checked their place, i was gonna. i dunno. grab a beer or something. [Probably a bad idea.]
maybe head home. [Less bad idea.]
no subject
no subject
[Which is to say- he doesn't mind either way, but he feels like he ought to give Bucky a warning.]
no subject
For now, he's here as a concerned friend, though. Bucky needs that and he'll be here for him. ]
no subject
He can't quite manage a smile, but he at least doesn't look like he's falling apart or anything. Not yet, anyway. He's quiet though, as he lets him in.]
You want coffee?
[Easier to talk about.]
no subject
[ He follows him in, not quite sure if this is one of those moments when he should hug the guy. Is that weird? He'd definitely hug Steve right now.
That thought gives him pause and then he takes a quick step to get in front of Bucky. There's always going to be something kind of weird about knowing another you, he figures, but they are friends. ]
Actually, you sit down and let me make coffee, okay?
no subject
Just be careful. Clint likes that coffee maker.
[There's something to his voice there, that says that he's a little worried that Clint is gone too, even if he hasn't admitted that to himself just yet. The apartment is empty and that's not unusual, but today it feels rough. Something to talking about the coffeemaker, thinking about how he sets it every night so he has his coffee in the mornings. How that used to be their excuse- Clint's claim that the coffee was better. He touches his purple bracelet with a sigh.]
Thanks. For- you know. Being here.
no subject
[ Bucky laughs gently as he gets to making coffee for the both of them. Taking care of people is always where he feels the most like himself--that old him from before the war who kept his hair neat and his face shaved--before he was broken. He likes doing this. ]
You just relax. I've got this.
[ The second place he looks has mugs and he pulls two down to sit in front of the coffeemaker while it brews before he moves to take a seat on the couch, just barely far enough to not be touching, but then he rests his hand on Bucky's knee, anyway, and squeezes gently. ]
So I'm guessing your definition of okay is close to mine.
[ Which is not actually okay at all. ]
no subject
It's innocuous, or at least probably should be, but James flushes a little and his hands fidget before he catches himself. Maybe he should protest, but he can't quite bring himself to. Not right now, not when he's so very aware of just how much the idea of Clint vanishing hurts, of what losing him could feel like. Just like Steve, except no, maybe worse. And they haven't quite had that talk yet, he hasn't said that word or asked the question, but--
The way Bucky says it is so easy, that laughter, and he just lets it stand. Because fighting it feels more deceptive than anything, and whatever weird friendship this is that he has with his other-self, he tries to be honest. And he... has feelings for Clint, in a way that feels inescapable, even if he hasn't put it into words like that. He just curls up against him every night, calls to ask first when he'd been about to get a drunken piercing, feels his chest constrict all helpless when the light hits the blonde just right in the morning when Clint's only half-awake before his coffee.
But he lets Bucky make the coffee, smiles a little sweet and a little sad. He sighs as fingers rest on his knee, and he leans into him a little, his shoulder bumping into his side. Because he's right, of course, that James isn't really okay, and he just shakes his head with a low hum of bitter amusement.]
Yeah, I'm guessin' so.
no subject
Well, I've got you.
[ The coffee brews quietly in the background as he leans his head against the other man's. There aren't many people he feels truly comfortable with, but it's a little easier with a man who already knows most of his darkest secrets. They aren't wholly the same man, but they have enough in common where it counts. Not being comfortable seems counter-intuitive with that in play. ]
And even if you're okay, you can lean on me a little. If you want to.
[ The offer is there and it's permanent. ]
no subject
Really, not all that strange in the scheme of his life, but he cuddles into him, slings an arm across his chest as he exhales, letting some of the tension drain out of his body. He's not okay, but this... this is nice. The warmth, the way that bodies pressed together. Being able to just enjoy the contact and the faint scent of the coffee Clint likes. Well, Clint likes pretty much all types of coffee, but James notices what he leans toward.]
You too, you know. If you ever need to.
[It's easier to make this about Bucky than it is to admit he's not handling it well, to talk about the why.]
no subject
[ It feels nice to cuddle close, though. Bucky's not always great at talking about his feelings, confused jumble that they are, but he's good at this physical side of it. Comfort, giving or receiving it, is easier when it can just be simple like this. Maybe it's easier because they share so much that a lot can sit in a box, unsaid but still perfectly understood.
He turns to kiss Bucky's temple, a gesture that would feel perfectly natural with Steve and just about no one else who's still alive. ]