Not Quite Single 7/?
by Max
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or Captain America. The Roman pantheon is not copyright protected. Dr. Strange is also not my property. Neither are the Winchester Brothers, whom I'm not saying are going to show up, but if they did, Ima blame that it's November and I'm just trying to have a good time, because if there's anything November needs, it's really a good time.
Note: I apologize for any missing words or other inelegant expressions. I shall strive to do better, but I will hope you may find some pleasure in sharing my story with me, even if I fail in that regard.
So there they were, standing in the med bay. Duo lay on the table, his breathing rough and all kinds of lights flashing that Steve did not understand. The little boy was climbing up on the table, while Heero wasn't looking. Heero looked pale and haggard, heart broken in a way that made Steve just want to clasp his hand and promise everything would be fine. He didn't know it was going to be fine though. He didn't really understand any of this.
Bucky, who it seemed now liked to go by James, wasn't dead, and he was now part machine, and seemed quite comfortable with all of this, and Steve suspected, much to his discomfort on several levels, was in possession of intimate knowledge of this blue eyed bossy know-it-all.
Then there was the boy's mother, which if he were being honest, was well beyond his tolerance for deviancy. Just like Red Skull, she had shed her skin, as well as her clothing, which was mightily uncomfortable. She was now held in some kind of large jar made of energy and was screaming about what he knew not as the jar kept her sound in.
On top of that, the Rapture may have started because the ship seemed to be calling to the dead. Translucent and slightly blue, they pressed around so that if they'd had physical presence, one would not have been able to move.
Heero and James seemed quite content to discuss the issues among themselves, which was wrong in so many ways. How did they not know he was the leader? It was as if things couldn't get worse, when a hand quite firmly and purposefully grabbed his left buttock cheek. His mouth dropped open, back arching as to pull away from the touch. He might have squeaked just a bit, because Bucky turned to look at him with concern. Steve swallowed and spun around.
His mouth only fell open more. The woman wore some kind of draping sheet, her hair done in very fixed and orderly curls. Soft and curvy lips smiled as she winked at him. The color filled in on her form, making her possibly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
"Ego sum Julia Augustus," she said before brushing a bit of pink tongue against her lip suggestively.
Bucky threw an arm over Steve's shoulder, wagging his finger at the pretty Roman ghost, "Landica," he said, drawing the word out, making sure she knew exactly what he meant. "This one's mine."
Her mouth dropped open and color flashed through her cheeks before she disappeared completely.
Bucky's fingers caressed Steve's cheek guiding his head to the side so they were facing. His fingers felt warm and finger like, nothing like the metal that Steve now knew was under the skin. Their eyes met and a wholly different kind of electricity fluttered through Steve's belly. Bucky's lips were thinner, darker than the woman's and he thought he'd slide towards them. Bucky's fingers lingered on his cheek and it started to settle in that he was really alive, that they had this moment together, when he'd never thought there would be so much as a single more second. Then Bucky was closing the space between them.
His breath held and his thoughts raced, about how this couldn't, wouldn't happen and how Bucky must know the world better and maybe they were going to die anyway. Maybe they were already dead. Maybe this was heaven. When Bucky's lips touched his, a soft brush of skin, firm and aggressive, everything that was good, proper, shy in Steve evaporated. Being so polite and patient had only been possible because this hadn't been possible and nothing else had the color this did. His arms went around Bucky, holding him tight, close, as if all the warmth in the world were in this one body, the being of his best and dearest friend who he could never put at risk with such sin, but now he needed this warmth, needed it so bad that Hell itself didn't matter. His fingers sank into Bucky's short dark hair and he held him, his tongue pushing forward into the warmth of Bucky's mouth.
Everything good, everything bright, everything worth having was right there in that room and if that was the only moment, then that's what it was. Bucky's tongue moving against his was what words had never been.
When the kiss broke, Steve's wet lips put kisses to Bucky's face, drinking in the warm aliveness of his skin, his scent, his being. "I love you! I have always loved you. Oh God, please forgive me!"
Bucky framed Steve's face with his hands, pinning him long enough to look into his eyes. "I love you too. Everything is going to be okay."
"What's going on?"
At the same moment, Bucky and Heero both answered.
"Mutants."
"Aliens."
"That makes no sense at all," Steve said.
"Some things don't have to," Bucky said.
