Haven [Marvel | Bucky Barnes]

Chapter 13

Because it wasn't him who'd done it. Not really. It was something she was absolutely certain of, her feelings for him nonwithstanding. She'd seen the anguish in him as he struggled to recall what he'd done, when he confessed that he believed himself a monster. She'd seen how broken he was by whatever had been done to him to make him into the Winter Soldier. He was so defeated and vulnerable in the face of his past. But he was still determined to protect her from it, from what he was, including from finding out; it's why she hadn't been able to figure out a way to tell him that she knew yet. And he just accepted the blame for what he had done as HYDRA's puppet soldier without offering a single excuse for his actions, and it was crushing him beneath its weight. She'd seen how hard he was grasping at whatever he could to try and piece himself back together. She'd seen the scars on his body and the near constant discomfort the cybernetic arm had to cause him. And that was mild pain compared to what was going on inside his head, to the scars on his psyche that she'd only caught mere glimpses of. What he'd done as the Winter Soldier warred with the man that he was.

He hadn't wanted any of it. It had all been forced upon him.

And now he had to live with it.

Angrily she swiped away the tears that had begun trickling down her face as her overactive mind rehashed the injustices done to James over and over again.

No, she concluded. It wasn't the Winter Soldier she'd fallen in love with. It was James. She loved James. The man whose lip tugged when he saw her and who took her up to the roof for night-time picnics. The man who'd laughed for the first time in who knew how long when she brought him burgers. The man who had gotten her a real sunflower that was now mere days from blooming; no other guy she'd been close to had ever even thought to do that. The man who was unfailingly courteous and would open doors for her and push in her chair when she sat down at the table or stand when she entered the room. The man who had held her close every evening for the past several nights as she fell asleep because she'd asked him to, because he made her feel safe, because he felt the desire to protect her.

The man who was willing to sacrifice what little happiness he had in his life to keep her safe.

The man who would rather run for the rest of his life rather than let himself be used as a weapon again.

The man she'd been dreaming about for what suddenly felt like a lifetime.

The man she wanted to shelter and protect with every fiber of her being. 

More tears leaked from her eyes as her chest constricted. How was she ever going to let him go when he left? Because he was going to leave. There was no doubt about that anymore. It physically hurt to consider that he might have already. Iris shifted, turning onto her side, curling her knees nearly up to her chest as she scrubbed away more tears, sniffling hard against the ugly sob that threatened.

She didn't even feel herself finally falling asleep, her mind fixed on the vulnerable, desolate way he'd been looking at her when she'd laid a hand against his cheek, looking past the wild violence he'd tried to hide behind. He'd looked utterly destroyed, craving the contact but feeling there was no way he deserved it.

She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until she woke.

And when she woke she realized she wasn't alone.

James sat on the end of her bed, elbows braced on his knees, hands fisted tightly together. He was watching her, but his gaze was so far away it was as if he didn't quite see her.

But then he realized she was no longer asleep, his fathomless eyes, midnight-hued in the dark, latching onto hers as he straightened, standing slowly. The pained expression she could just barely see on his face through the shadows melted away into one of sad resignation. Her chest constricted again but the tears she'd been fighting earlier didn't come. He looked so tired, so worn down and crushed. So lost. Alone.

Slipping her arm out from beneath the covers Iris held out her hand to him, her eyes never leaving his face. He wasn't alone. He didn't have to be alone. His gaze dipped to her outstretched hand, hesitation and uncertainty flickering in the darkened blue depths. Her silent plea hung in the air between them: please stay.

He took her hand, obeying the silent pressure of her fingers to sink down onto the mattress and slipping beneath the covers as she pulled him toward her.

And then she was in his arms again, pressing herself against him as he tucked her beneath his chin, breathing her in as he wrapped her tighter in his embrace. Iris wrapped her own arms around his waist, her hands tracing up his back. A shiver went through her as the cool metal of his cybernetic arm brushed against her skin, the sensation curiously pleasant. Surrounded by him, relief that he was still here coursing through her, she inhaled deeply, nuzzling against his neck, feeling like she could get drunk on the scent of him; warm and male and safe.

In an impulsive move that might have surprised her any other time, she pressed her mouth against the exposed skin of his breastbone, just over the collar of his shirt. The ensuing startled groan that rumbled through him at her movement sent a shock of warmth flooding through her. Warmth and heat and electricity. Emboldened by the sound, she was soon brushing her lips from his collarbone to where his pulse was quickly thrumming beneath his jaw. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss him for real. She wanted him to know what he was to her. She wanted him to know how she felt.

She just wanted him. All of him.

And when he began to tremble, his body involuntarily pressing hard against hers as her lips continued their ministrations, drawing closer to his own, she knew he wanted her too.

But just as she was about to press her mouth to his, a primal groan vibrated through him. Before she could react he had moved, shifting so that she was no longer simply in his arms but sheltered beneath him.

The moment stretched on for an eternity as he held himself above her, arms braced and tense to either side. She wanted to feel more of him, to run her hands up those arms, flesh and metal alike, to pull him down to her. To trace her fingers across his face, his lips. To feel the sculpted muscles of his powerful frame. To feel him touching her back, turning her skin to charged fire. But she was suddenly afraid he'd disappear if she did. So she simply lay beneath him, hands gripping tight to his bicep and shoulder where they'd landed when he'd moved, fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt, forcing herself to be patient lest he spook and flee.

He lowered his forehead to rest against hers, eyes half-lidded as he trembled, breath coming quickly as he struggled between a desperate wish to stay and the long-ingrained compulsion to leave. She finally let herself move, to reach up and touch him, her hand rising to cup his face. He shuddered at the touch, his flesh arm warm as he shifted again, running his own hand up her side, skimming beneath her nightshirt. It left her skin tingling, hot and flushed.

Then his lips were brushing across the skin of her throat, the rough, scratching feel of his stubbled jaw electrifying on her suddenly hypersensitive skin as his metal fingers, shockingly cool compared to the heat flooding beneath her skin, buried themselves in her hair. He was hesitant at first before his mouth grew greedy, hungry. Iris couldn't help the whimper that escaped her as he latched onto a sensitive spot below her jaw, nipping and kissing at the tender flesh, sucking hard enough that she knew he was going to leave a mark.

Gasping at the sensations he was arousing in her, she was soon tugging at the shirt that separated her from feeling his skin. Though he tensed, freezing for a moment as he realized what she was asking, he complied, pulling back even as her hands shoved his shirt up his torso. In an instant the offending garment was tugged away and, as soon as it was, her arms wound around him of their own volition, fingers curled into the flesh of his shoulders and back, growing desperate to feel more of him against her.

As his name left her lips with a heady sigh, whatever had been holding him back snapped and he pulled her against him.

And they were both lost.    

A/N: Thanks for reading!

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