[ Some couples on an assignment like this would have to fake the level of easy comfort Bucky shares with Jake. They would have to manufacture the happiness too, plaster phony smiles on their faces and go through the motions of what a contented afternoon together outside would look like to anyone happening to glance by on their way past the property.
A year ago, when he’d still been fighting off the remnants of Hydra’s programming, trying to figure out where the asset ended and this hazy ghost of James Barnes began, he never would have imagined himself capable of anything like this. Not of acting the part this flawlessly and certainly not actually feeling it to the point where acting has become unnecessary. But he does now. He’s happy in a way he hasn’t been for seventy years, in a way he’s often thought wouldn’t be possible to feel again. Sometimes it makes him feel a little like an overfilled balloon, so full that he’s stretched far too thin and if he gets any happier, he’s going to burst with it.
He can’t say that he’s terribly alarmed by the prospect.
The nickname makes him snort, which leads to unabashed laughter that he muffles against Jake’s shoulder, subtly tightening his grip on him for a moment while he leans against him and gives in to the hilarity of the moment. Lovebug. That’s a new one. He’s not going to let him forget that he used it. Ever.
Eventually, he has to straighten up. Jake needs the table, and as the only one of the two of them not currently tasked with keeping food from burning, Bucky knows he has to stop lollygagging around and get it. He presses a kiss to Jake’s shoulder, then another to the side of his neck as he slowly withdraws. ]
Sure thing, cupcake. [ Cupcake, he thinks, turning it over with a smirk. He might keep that one. ] I’m starving.
[ To illustrate the point, he swoops in and bites painlessly at his shoulder, just pressing his teeth against his skin hard enough to feel the pressure. It takes half a second, maybe a whole one. Then he really does step back, gives Jake a playful swat on the ass, and goes to retrieve the table.
It isn’t terribly large and he’s a muscular guy. Anyone looking at him wouldn’t think anything amiss by the way he handles it. Because he uses two hands when he carts the thing over, like a normal guy, instead of one-handing it the way he normally would. He sets it down near the grill and steps back out the way, though he doesn’t really go very far. ]
What say after we eat, you and me go skinny dipping in the pool?
no subject
A year ago, when he’d still been fighting off the remnants of Hydra’s programming, trying to figure out where the asset ended and this hazy ghost of James Barnes began, he never would have imagined himself capable of anything like this. Not of acting the part this flawlessly and certainly not actually feeling it to the point where acting has become unnecessary. But he does now. He’s happy in a way he hasn’t been for seventy years, in a way he’s often thought wouldn’t be possible to feel again. Sometimes it makes him feel a little like an overfilled balloon, so full that he’s stretched far too thin and if he gets any happier, he’s going to burst with it.
He can’t say that he’s terribly alarmed by the prospect.
The nickname makes him snort, which leads to unabashed laughter that he muffles against Jake’s shoulder, subtly tightening his grip on him for a moment while he leans against him and gives in to the hilarity of the moment. Lovebug. That’s a new one. He’s not going to let him forget that he used it. Ever.
Eventually, he has to straighten up. Jake needs the table, and as the only one of the two of them not currently tasked with keeping food from burning, Bucky knows he has to stop lollygagging around and get it. He presses a kiss to Jake’s shoulder, then another to the side of his neck as he slowly withdraws. ]
Sure thing, cupcake. [ Cupcake, he thinks, turning it over with a smirk. He might keep that one. ] I’m starving.
[ To illustrate the point, he swoops in and bites painlessly at his shoulder, just pressing his teeth against his skin hard enough to feel the pressure. It takes half a second, maybe a whole one. Then he really does step back, gives Jake a playful swat on the ass, and goes to retrieve the table.
It isn’t terribly large and he’s a muscular guy. Anyone looking at him wouldn’t think anything amiss by the way he handles it. Because he uses two hands when he carts the thing over, like a normal guy, instead of one-handing it the way he normally would. He sets it down near the grill and steps back out the way, though he doesn’t really go very far. ]
What say after we eat, you and me go skinny dipping in the pool?