Steve can’t remember the last time someone kissed him without there being something else it was connected to. It was always leading up to sex or because they felt they had to because Steve wanted to. Never just because they wanted to.
No girlfriend would kiss him on the cheek when they cuddled, barely even a kiss goodbye sometimes. A hookup would stop the kissing at some point to keep it less personal. It was always Steve who instigated the kiss, never his date. Sure, it was expected for the guy to make the first move, but at a certain point, he wished that they would lean in too.
It wasn't even girlfriends who strayed away from kissing Steve. When he was little, his mother would kiss his forehead when she tucked him into bed. Sometimes even give him a kiss on the cheek when he did a good job. When she wasn't around, the nannies would do the same thing. Small little gestures of love through kisses.
But as soon as he turned eight, it all stopped. His dad decided that he was a man and needed to grow up, stop being shown these small signs of affection. It was the same year that his mom stopped staying home often and went with his dad on every business trip, leaving Steve alone for most of the year with his nannies. They would sometimes still give him a small kiss on the head goodnight. But as soon as it was decided that Steve could take care of himself, it all stopped.
He just accepted that it was never going to happen. That he would always be the one to lean in first, reach out for intimacy, leaving it only for the best moment.
Then he started dating Eddie.
Steve was the first one to make a move, finally having enough and just kissing Eddie, breaking the tension the two had been floundering around for months. After that, the dam had broken, and everything became different.
Eddie was never one to stray away from affection before, but this was different. He would lean in for a kiss whenever he felt like it, just because he wanted to. There were no stipulations or something at the moment that would traditionally call for one. He would just walk up to Steve, give him a kiss, and then walk away.
It wasn't even always a kiss on the lips. There were forehead kisses and kisses on the cheek. A quick kiss on his nose or the top of his head. His neck, hands, shoulders. All of it was free space, and Eddie kept filling them up.
Steve asks him one day why he just kisses him without meaning, like it was nothing to it. At first, Eddie is confused, but after some explanation, he understands. He simply says that there is a reason. Because he loves Steve, and Steve deserves to be shown that love. There doesn't have to be a reason for it.
And Steve thinks that's all reason enough.
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Modern Reincarnation AU Part 4 ✨️
Part 3
"John?"
Bucky storms past Jack into the townhouse. It's rude, but he'll apologize later. He doesn't know why he came here instead of his apartment. Old habits dying a hard drawn out death, maybe? He hadn't been thinking clearly. Hadn't been thinking at all really until he found himself waved through by his father's security detail.
"Oh, is that John?" He hears his father call out, dress shoes clicking against hardwood as he walks closer, but Bucky stomps up the stairs towards his room before he sees the man. His breaths come out in rushes as tears keep burning his eyes.
Shit, he thought he'd gotten those under control on the train.
Slamming his door, he slides down until he rests against the floor. He tosses his bag to the side wincing at the sound it makes. Hopefully his laptop survives. At some point he does actually have to do the work he went to the library to finish.
The library.
Buck and Curt.
They wouldn't, Bucky tells himself. They wouldn't. Curt was one of his best friends, and Buck loved him. They...
Fuck they were roommates! Why the hell were they talking about that shit in public? In the place Bucky considered his? Why even pretend? Why drag Bucky into this? Why?!
Bucky buries his face into his hands. His chest hitches as he tries not to sob. He doesn't want his father or Jack to worry about him. He doesn't want to talk this through.
He wants...
He wants Buck. He wants the other to pull him into his arms. To kiss him again as if today had never happened. There was something else about being with Buck, something he'd never felt with anyone else be they friend or lover. He made Bucky feel safe and wanted. Wanted not because of his family and connections but because he was himself.
Buck would know how to make him feel better.
He laughs quietly through his tears. Distantly, he can hear Jack briefing his father downstairs, the words faint but he hears his name and tears used together. His laughter is more sob than anything else. Of course, the one good thing he'd found would end up belonging to someone else. Story of his life.
✨️
There's too much work to do. At least that's the excuse Bucky gave himself for not confronting Buck and Curt immediately. There wasn't time for a confrontation and subsequent blowup of his life.
At least that's the lie he tells himself.
Bucky chews on the straw of his iced coffee as he skims yet another chapter. There's a pumpkin muffin in front of him that he swore would be his reward for getting through this fourty page reading. Midterms have come and gone, but Bucky still has deadlines to meet and research to complete. He can't sit in his room forever, as much as his father and Jack would sometimes prefer that. Better protection from whatever sent Bucky crying to his room as his father would argue. Better protection for his father's political career Jack would quip.
Speaking of protection, Bucky glanced to the side of the cafe towards his security detail. At least these guys attempted to blend in. His father must have briefed them on his track record with previous details. Bucky smirked around his straw. They'd be easy to lose come rush hour. A bit of fun even.
Bucky turned back to his reading, squinting down at the words.
"American airmen during World War II had a dismal life expectancy. It was not a matter of if an airman was going to be shot down but when. Once downed, airmen faced an uncertain 'reception committee,' as Second Lieutenant Kenneth C. Reimer noted in a drawing he made as a POW in Stalag Luft I in Barth, Germany... 'for every [ground combat] soldier killed in action, three or four others would be wounded; air combat was completely the opposite. For every man wounded, three were killed.'"
"Bucky?" A hand settles on his shoulder jolting him out of his reading.
Bucky kept his shoulders loose as he turns around. Buck stares down at him, a bright smile on his face that Bucky can't help but match despite his grief. It wasn't even something he could control. Buck smiled at him, so he smiled back. Bucky felt pitiful.
Buck's sky blue eyes are clear and happy as they dart across Bucky's face. There's no sign that he realizes Bucky overheard him yesterday.
Bucky lifts a hand to calm his detail, all alert now after Buck's friendly greeting. He sees the nearest agent settle back into their chair but knows none of them are relaxed. He darts a look up at Buck, peering at the other through his glasses to see if he'd noticed the disturbance.
Buck's gaze, as it always does, doesn't leave Bucky's face. Even when he rounds the table to sit down, his eyes are pinned on Bucky and nothing else.
"Sorry I couldn't meet up yesterday," Buck dumps his bag onto the chair next to him. Bucky's smile twitches. Buck sits down across from him. His legs tangle with Buck's own under the table, Buck's foot gently bumping his ankle.
"It's fine," Bucky chomps down on his straw. "How was your advisor meeting anyway?"
"It was good," Buck smiles at him, not even a hint of guilt on his face. "Real good."
Buck had told Bucky he was called to fill in a shift yesterday and that was why he supposedly hadn't been able to meet up. A lie Buck hadn't even bothered to remember. His advisor meetings were also always in the morning on Thursdays. Today was Tuesday.
Buck was still lying to him, and he wasn't even guilty about it.
✨️
"I went by your place yesterday. You weren't home." Buck swings their clasped hands through the air.
"Hmm?" Bucky glanced away from the traffic around them. His detail were staying a conspicuous ten feet back, but they were annoyingly keen when Buck offered to walk him back to his apartment.
Bucky would lose them another day.
Buck laughed, deep and airy. Bucky struggled not to lose himself in it. That was what made this so hard. Bucky still loved Buck, and Buck still acted like Bucky was his whole world and then some.
"Oh," Bucky finally processed what Buck had said. "No, I went to my dad's for the night."
"Really?" Buck squeezes his hand. Bucky hates how much comfort Buck's touch gives him.
Does Curt receive the same...? No Bucky doesn't let himself finish the thought.
"How was it?" Concern bleeds into Buck's voice. Bucky hates how genuine it sounds. He's starting to use that word more than any other. The longer he looks at Buck, the more he has to hate to save his heart.
"Fine," Bucky shrugged stepping further away as they came to a stoplight. "The usual."
"The Bucky I know wouldn't give such a short answer," Buck stepped closer eating up the space Bucky had put between them. "Not unless something happened yesterday. Come on, you okay?"
Bucky felt the words bubbling up his throat.
I saw you. I saw him. Why are you here staring at me like I'm the most important thing in the world when you have him? Why are you doing this to me? I love you. I love you so much it feels like my soul hurts. I hate you.
"Spent most of the night avoiding his staffers." Bucky lied. "Barely saw him, Jack either, yet he still asked me to move home at breakfast."
Buck nods, accepting his lies. Was that what they were now? Not a relationship, simply a lie? Bucky wasn't sure anymore. His heart thumped against his rib cage, anger and love in every other beat, but he wasn't sure which would win.
Buck had become his whole world in such a short amount of time. He thought the feeling was mutual, but yesterday showed just how stupid Bucky really was.
"How about this," Buck nudged his hip. "Why don't I stay over tonight? We'll binge a few movies, order something, and have night in. Then,"
Buck paused with a stupid grin that, despite himself, Bucky still found charming. Fuck, he was truly pathetic for this.
"I'll sweep you off your feet and take you to bed. How does that sound?"
"Won't Curt be expecting you?" The question pops out of him without meaning to. Gale furrows his brow, confusion growing in his eyes.
"Curt won't miss me tonight."
Sure, he won't, Bucky thinks bitterly.
✨️
"John," Jack's voice was a surprise. Especially considering it was his father's number calling him.
"You've gotten much better at your Jack impression," Bucky answers just to be annoying. "Does he know you impersonate him on official numbers?"
"You're not as funny as you believe."
"Ooh, you even have his disapproving tone down. I feel like he's in the room with us!" Bucky laughs. He peers around the corner. Buck's still where he left him, buried in his phone texting someone.
Bucky doesn't let himself think about who that person is.
"Your father wants to invite you to a dinner tomorrow. You can even bring that boy that walked you home. The one that hasn't left." Pages flip in the background as Jack talks. Probably governmental reports his father was supposed to read.
"You know you're not his chief of staff anymore?" Bucky leaned his hip against the counter. "You don't have to read reports or wrangle his kid to government dinners to help his image as a family man. You're his husband now, you're the family."
"You're my kid too by that logic, so wrangling you gets to stay on my resume." Bucky snorts out a laugh. "Besides, it's not a state dinner or anything. He just wants to see you."
Guilt gnaws at his heart. Buck pokes his head into the kitchen, phone no longer holding all of his attention.
"Fine," Bucky groans. "But if he brings up the apartment again, I'm walking out with my food on my plate even if it's the good plates."
"See you tomorrow at 7 then. Bring your boy." Jack hangs up without a goodbye.
✨️
It'll be me, and it'll be you, Buck.
Don't count on it.
Bucky jerks awake. His dream flashes through his head too fast for him to remember anything. Scenes superimpose over each other, words jumble together. At least this one wasn't a nightmare. Those always left him shakey and off balance all day.
His dreams have always been vivid, ever since he was a kid. The child psychologists he'd gone to had said it was normal and simply a sign of a well developed imagination.
Bucky runs a hand through his hair groaning when he glances towards his bedside clock. It's nearly an hour until he has to get up, but he knows that he won't be getting back to sleep before then.
Buck lays curled up next to him on the bed. Bucky reaches out to brush a hand through the other's hair. Buck twitches leaning into the feeling for half a second but doesn't stir beyond that.
Bucky sighs. Extricating himself from Buck's long limbs takes time. Somehow in the night, Buck had nearly fused them together as if even asleep the man refused to let him go. Arms layered over arms. Legs tangled together. It's an excellent distraction from his dreams but not from the problems of the waking world. If only he could forget those once he woke up like he did his dreams.
It's only when he's pouring water for his coffee that he realizes he recognizes the voice from his dream. A first for him.
It'd been Buck's.
✨️
(Not a confrontation I know, but it builds my AU lol)
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One thing that always amazed me about The Hunger Games is the central role Cinna had with the rebellion.
The books are written with Katniss POV so we got a blind sided narrator for the first two books
Katniss has no idea how rooted and deep the rebellion is and she trusts Cinna because, lets say it, in the Capitol he’s probably the only one that looks human enough to Katniss.
She trusts him because he was kind to her , and she felt understood by him and I love Cinna, he’s an awesome complex character because he’s a gray character.
From Katniss point of view he only had her best interest in mind but actually… he got the nation interest at heart (first and foremost, he died for it). Why? We got zero information about his beliefs, except that he really wanted for the world to be better, which is noble of him, and I do believe he got fond of Katniss right away but because he saw hope in her. He literally saw the spark (duh) for a fire that’s been potentially burning for years now.
Although he did use a 16 year old, lulling her into trusting him, for a purpose. He literally was the spark that sparked the revolution, Katniss was only the face of it, and always had been. He knew he was sacrificing the girl’s life for a greater good. No matter who or what her desires were never heard. He must have known that the moment he was planning the wedding-turning into a mockingjay dress what he was actively doing.
Katniss knew nothing about it. She suspected it but she was 17 at the time and had no clue how big the thing would turn out to be. She just wanted to save her family and Peeta that was it, she never wanted to be anything else.
People that organized the revolution forced it to her and that is already pretty tragic per se. And all her existential crisis and loosing herself into a title are really well portrayed into the third book. She was just a kid.
And that’s the thing about Cinna, he was a friend yes, but also so much more that Katniss never even considered.
He was the reason she spoke up during interviews, he was the reason she became the face of the revolution and he was the reason she fired the nation. But it was never “she”.
He believed in her but for what she represented first of all…
It is very interesting indeed, I hope more people talked about his character because he’s both a martyr for the nation and an executioner for Katniss’ mental health.
Like… he’s the example of sacrificing one for a greater good. Either it be a young girl or himself.
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