The nightmares came again that night, but later which was perhaps a good sign. Again, I came into the room carefully. "Buck, it's just a dream. Wake up buddy." I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed. Maybe that was better than having me stand over top of him. He moaned and it was the most horrible tortured sound. I slid my hand up his arm.
And then my whole body was moving forward as my arm was yanked hard. It took me a second to register that he was fighting me. By then, he was on top of me pounding my face with both his fists.
"Bucky! Wake up! It's me." Like an idiot, I sat up and reached for him.
Most punches don't faze me. Don't get me wrong, it still stings. But there's this knowledge that it's not doing any real damage because my flesh is hard to bruise and my body repairs so quickly. Bucky on the other hand, hit me like a truck hits you. The force of it had me bouncing under him as the bed springs bottomed out, but when I reached for him, he changed angles and the force of his fist to the side of my head sent me off the side of the bed and back into the wall. I let my shoulders hit first and rolled my spine down the wall to reverse my momentum, and launched towards the bed again, he was up and headed towards me just as hard and fast. Our bodies crashed together and I blocked most of his blows, but he landed a few good ones. It was ridiculous, but I didn't want to hit him and I didn't want to leave him alone like this.
What I really wanted as I called to him and shouted his name and dodged his feet and his fists was to reach him. I wanted to reach inside his chest and wake him up again. I wanted to see him in his eyes, not this cold monster that they'd turned him into.
He did this super fast combo kick move and got my ankle and knee buckling and then I was down on the floor and he got both his hands around my throat. "Buck," my voice came out in a hoarse whisper. His eyes were locked on mine, intent on his prey. I dug my fingers into his wrists, but I wasn't sure how long it would take to break his death grip and how much breathing time I had left before I passed out. I thought about Bucky waking up on top of my unconscious body, or worse my dead body. I really wasn't sure what it would take to kill me but if anyone could do it, it was him in this state. Coming back to himself like that would destroy him. He needed me just as much as I needed him.
I stopped fighting him and saw his eyes grow more intense; he was a hunter keen on the kill. No, surrendering wasn't going to help. I wondered what he would do to my limp body. Would he throw me out the window? Would he drag me downstairs to try impaling me or cutting off my head? I ran my hands slowly up his arms, trying to stroke calm into his muscles that vibrated with strain. Up his neck and into his hair, brushing it off his face. Did his eyes flicker? His grip didn't loosen. I held his face in my hands, firm but gentle and ran my thumbs over his cheeks. He blinked. My vision was starting to blacken. "I love you," I whispered.
His body stilled and he blinked again. "Steve?" He pulled his hands off my throat and this look of complete horror passed over his face. "Oh God. Oh God." He reeled back and I could see he was going to get up and run from me, run from this. I grabbed handfuls of his t-shirt and pulled him back on top of me.
"I'm okay," I said into his ear, but then I had to cough and he fought to get away.
"No, no, no," he said as he pushed my hands off him.
"Hey," I said in my best cut-the-crap military tone. "I've got you." I held him to me as tight as I could and kissed his head really hard. He stopped struggling but his body was strung tight with tension. "You're okay now. You're back. Let it go." I shook him hard once and put all the alpha I could into my voice. "Right now. Just drop it."
He sagged over me, a ragged breath sighing out in my ear. "Why do I wake up crazy, Steve? Is there some random trigger they put in that goes off sometimes because I have no idea how to turn this shit off."
"Could be PTSD. Could be that you're just plain old sleep walking your trauma out. That's actually not that weird."
"Oh yeah? What are you Mr Encyclopedia?"
"I did some research. Probably not enough, but you can help with that now." I thunked my head hard against his and spoke softer. "Together. Okay? You don't get to run off and pull trees out of the ground like Hulk and leave me here by myself worried sick about you. Got it?"
"I'd be fine. Nothing can hurt me."
"Well, this stuff does. I know it scares the crap out of you." I ran my hand up to his hair and gently started sweeping it off his face. Maybe he wasn't ready to look me in the eye because he turned his nose into my neck.
How long had he gone without a loving touch. How long had I? Could you count the decades we'd both spent unconscious? Maybe not, but having a warm person in my arms was wonderful. I stroked his head and his hair was thick and surprising silky under my hand. A shudder went through him.
"This is when I'm supposed to cry, isn't it?" He laughed and it sounded haunted. "You know that I can't? They did this whole chapter on pain management and response, until I couldn't react even when I wanted to."
"I'm so sorry, Buck."
He shrugged a shoulder up under my chin. "Saves on toilet paper."
I laughed. He pulled up a little and looked down on me with this tiny smile. "What am I going to do with you?" he said. I could see the cords standing out in his neck, and my breath caught to see how hard he was trying to make all of this ok.
"You're going to stay," I said, and then I realized how needy that sounded, and felt myself blush. I turned my eyes away and Bucky shook his head.
"Maybe I'll team up with Hulk instead. Think he really could teach me to pull trees out of the ground?" he smiled down at me and I couldn't help but smile back. And it was as we were smiling at each other that he slowly leaned down and kissed me. It was his soft lips pressing down on mine and then he lifted up again and looked at me. It was a look you would give a piece of art in a gallery, and I don't mean when you love it. I mean when you can't figure out what it's supposed to be.
What was that? My eyes went wide and my mind went blank. He leaned down ever so slowly again, and kissed me longer this time, then lifted away for a moment and came right back down, gently brushing his lips over mine. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what I was supposed to do. And then I felt his tongue against my lips and everything kind of... slid sideways. My mouth decided it knew what to do about that and then our tongues were sliding together. My arms decided it was time to grab a hold of him and squeeze and all of that made my johnson wake up and stand to attention.
He moved above me and I realized he was hard too. I caught a frantic breath as he kissed my neck. "What... what are you doing?" My brain was trying to catch up with decisions my body seemed to have made all on its own.
He lifted up my t-shirt and his wet warm mouth over my nipple made me gasp.
I caught his wrists and held him still. "Why... You want... this?"
He laughed but it sounded a little shaky. "You sound like a cave man." He growled into my chest, "Me want yum yum," rubbing his rough stubble against my skin and then bit me, just a light touch of his teeth that sent a shiver down the length of my body.
"Seriously," I whispered. "Why are you doing this?"
His tongue lapped at the dips in my collarbones. His voice was light, mocking even. "If I'm going to kill you one of these days, maybe you don't want to die a virgin?"
I ground my teeth together and pushed him back. It was one thing to be bugged about my lack of experience from the rest of my friends, and it was entirely different for him to do it. Especially while kissing me.
"Hey," he said, "Lots of guys mess around in the army. There's no women around and men have needs."
"If you know me so well, then you know that I don't mess around." I tried to roll him off me but he pressed his head into my shoulder.
"Fuck, Steve, stop." He took a deep breath and I waited. "I just wanted to see... if we could. You're giving up everything."
So that's what this was about. "You don't owe me for God's sake."
His body was strung tight again above me. It was only when it was full of tension again that I realized how much he had let go just moments before. "Bullshit I don't. But... ergh God, just shut up for a second. That's not what I mean. I'm not, like trying to pay you for your services. I'm trying to see if we... fit."
"We fit in a lot of ways. That's enough."
He pulled back and searched my face, all of his light bravado gone. "Can I at least show you what you're missing before you make that decision? It's been a long time, and I... miss it."
"You miss...?"
He bit his top lip and his eyes skated off mine. "Kissing. Touching. Getting off. Hell, having someone want me for something other than killing people and stealing things."
Author's Note:
This one is such a cliff hanger, I think I'll be a kind author today (in celebration of the kick off of my blog tour for Root of the Spark), and post the next bit today as well.
Here's today's blog tour post, if you'd like to enter to win a free ebook! www.queer.scifi.com/guest-post-root-of-the-spark-by-michele-fogal/
Hearts,
Michele