Author's Notes: Rating for this story has now been bumped up to M, due to sexual content in this chapter. The scene is not filthy or overly graphic; I do try to keep it tasteful and romantic. But it is still mature in nature, so please be aware before proceeding. Thank you for understanding!
Chapter 12
Bucky thought it was interesting, how the heat of the moment could ebb and flow so quickly, so easily. It felt like kissing Solace could last forever if he only let it, yet it was only the space of several minutes, ending with them awkwardly laughing at themselves.
"I wasn't supposed to love you so easily," Solace murmured, touching his face affectionately before reluctantly pulling away.
"I know," Bucky said, watching as she distracted herself by rolling up the blueprints on the table and stuffing them a little too hastily back into the poster tube. "I'm sorry."
Solace rolled her eyes. "Whatever for? Being lovable?"
He grinned. "No." Before Solace could wander away again—she seemed to have her eye on the kitchen, though he wanted to point out that there was no point to washing his dishes if he wasn't going to stick around—he had crept up behind her and gathered her tightly in his arms. She squealed in surprise and giggled as he picked her up and kissed the back of her neck roughly. "I just hope it wasn't… too fast."
"Hmm." Solace wiggled in his arms until he let her go, and she seemed to be thoughtful about it. "No, I… don't think so. Maybe a little. But I don't think you get to choose that."
The two gathered up their things from the dining room and migrated to the bedroom. Ostensibly, it was to relax together, but it ended up being both of them sorting through their own belongings. Solace, seated on top of the bed, appeared interested in turning out the inside of her backpack and looking around for something, while Bucky decided to seat himself on the floor with his back to the wall, trying to determine if there was anything he still wanted to pack.
The two large, black cases he'd stolen from his handlers were still open next to him, and he devoted a bit of time to deciding what he wanted to keep and what he could leave. He figured authorities would realize the Winter Soldier was in the area one way or another, and abandoning his apartment would only confirm that once they analyzed everything inside it. He decided he would leave his knife, along with his bloodied uniform. He was done with all that. The Winter Soldier had served whatever purpose he'd had left, and now he could leave that behind, too.
"Sure you don't want to sit on the bed?" Solace questioned, looking up from where she'd been checking through a small toiletries bag she'd brought. "You're still hurt."
"I'm fine," Bucky assured, not looking up. He shut one of the black cases and pushed it across the room, turning his attention to the next one. It was empty save for the small lockbox inside. He picked it up and studied it with trepidation; the lock on it had already been broken off when he first ventured to look inside. It opened easily, and he studied what few items were within. There might have been more items in it originally, but if they'd been removed by his handlers, they were probably lost or seized by investigators by now.
He heard a small thump, and suddenly Solace was on the floor with him, deliberately crawling over his legs. "Do you have an outlet over here?" she asked, flashing him a playful smile. "Gotta charge this." She waved a small device in her hand at him, and it took him a moment to recognize it was a pink MP3 player, with the headphones tangled around it and the charger cable already plugged into the bottom. She held some other device in her other hand that he couldn't immediately identify.
Bucky smirked and shifted his position to reveal one next to him. "Have at it, kitten."
She was only too happy to sidle up alongside him, snuggling against his right arm while plugging her MP3 player into the wall outlet. Once it was charging, she set down the item in her other hand on the floor and began selecting options on the screen of her MP3 player; Bucky stared at her curiously until he heard the pill-shaped, mysterious device beginning to play music. He gave her a questioning look.
Solace grinned at him. "Weird, huh?" she said, and suddenly Bucky was grateful she wasn't going to tease him for being ignorant. "It's one of those little Bluetooth speakers. Jasc bought me this pink one for my birthday a couple months ago. I thought we could at least listen to some music instead of sitting in silence. Hope you like my taste in music!"
Bucky tilted his head at the slow tune currently playing, and shrugged. It seemed soothing and upbeat, and that was really all he was concerned about at the moment. "I'm sure it's fine," he assured, before his eyes dipped back into the lockbox. "Didn't you say music helps you focus your powers?"
"Oh, yeah. I tend to build up a lot of negative energy throughout the day and unless I use my powers on something, it'll just… stay bottled up inside me and start giving me headaches and making me sick. And really grumpy." She shot him an embarrassed smile before resting her head on his arm. "The more negative energy I take in… the more it starts to affect my mood too. But, I figured out that listening to music helps alleviate that. The energy seems to just… evaporate and go away. And if I actually focus on a particular song and sing, I can use that rhythm to focus my powers better, too. Amplify them, almost. Though I haven't really… tried that out much. I'm embarrassed to sing in front of people."
"Oh, I'm sure you're great," Bucky said. He recalled how shy she had been to dance with him the other night on their date, and he figured she was equally shy about singing, too.
Solace kissed him on the cheek sweetly. "Maybe," she cooed, before she looked down at the box in his hands as well. He knew there was no point in trying to hide it from her, or quelling her curiosity once it was piqued. "What's that, if I may ask?"
Their cheeks touched affectionately, and he leaned into her for comfort. "Well," he began, unsure of how to broach yet another uncomfortable subject. He had hoped to put that behind them for the evening. "In HYDRA, I had a set of 'handlers,' who were trained on how to bring the Winter Soldier out of cryostasis, program instructions for missions into him, and generally just… keep him under control by whatever means necessary."
Solace's eyes narrowed at the grim topic, but she nodded, determined to accept whatever darkness he still had left to reveal. "I see."
"I guess me… remembering things from time to time was not uncommon. Normally they'd end up wiping those memories away with that… machine at the end of it. But sometimes… if it suited their purpose, they'd actually… encourage a particular sensation or feeling. Manipulate it to their advantage."
"R-Really? How do you know? I thought you didn't… remember anything," Solace replied, surprised.
"I didn't… not until I opened this box. They always kept it on hand wherever we went for missions," Bucky explained. He shifted the lockbox over to her, so she could hold it in her lap instead. "It's not much, and they would rarely use them, but seeing some of the things reminded me of times when they'd play up an emotion to their advantage. They'd still keep me from remembering… but they'd manipulate how I responded to these items and use that to get me to do what they wanted. I guess… it was sometimes more effective than simply forcing me to obey with that machine."
She shook her head at the thought. "I can't believe they would take advantage of your memories, too," she muttered, her voice full of annoyance. "As if erasing them all the time wasn't enough."
Bucky kissed her head soothingly, watching as she pulled out a folder and opened it. It was a copy of his HYDRA file, though it was not the full file; that was, as far as he knew, still in Russia somewhere. Inside the folder were several sheets of paper, documenting observations, vital signs, and mission updates recorded from the Winter Soldier during his time in Washington, D.C. Another sheet stapled to the left-hand side of the folder had basic information about their subject, much of it written in Russian. There were also two photographs paper-clipped neatly to the file; one was a picture of Bucky before they had taken him out of his cryogenic chamber back in Siberia, just before they left for the United States. His eyes were closed and his face obscured by the frozen glass. The second was taken of him in his full battle gear, right before he had been sent on his mission to assassinate Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff; the picture had him in profile, coldly gazing down the sight of his assault rifle before deeming the weapon acceptable.
Solace let her fingers trace over each picture thoughtfully, before closing the file and handing it over to him. Bucky set it aside without another glance, instead patiently waiting for her to reach into the box and look through the few items inside. She next pulled out an old photo, and her eyebrows rose in surprise. "This is…?"
Bucky stared at it, a sense of apprehension filling him as he took in the image. "Me? Yeah."
It was an old, sepia-toned photograph of a younger Bucky Barnes in a military uniform, clean-shaven and smiling brightly as he stood alongside an equally well-dressed Steve Rogers. The two appeared to have been at some USO function during the war. Solace seemed mystified by the uncharacteristic brightness in Bucky's eyes, and lifted it close to study the image. "You and… Captain America," she realized, with a smile. "You two look so happy."
"I don't remember what we were doing," he admitted. "Maybe we had some time off?"
Solace shrugged, not knowing any better than he did. She also seemed baffled at how HYDRA obtained such a photo, and what they could have used it for in Bucky's manipulation. Maybe they would use it to spark a memory of a happier time, and trick him into believing he could keep that memory again if he just killed the target. Or maybe his handlers would lie and say they had Steve hostage, and if Bucky didn't do what they said…
Bucky couldn't remember what they might have said or done, but he really wouldn't put any of these scenarios past them. It didn't really matter what means they chose, anyway—the Memory Suppression Machine would reset him after the mission was complete. The echoes of their torture would remain, but the memories, at least, would not. They could use the picture again in the future and he'd be shocked and emotionally disturbed by it all over again.
With a sigh, Solace passed the photo to him. "Keep that in your book," she instructed, and it took Bucky a moment to remember his current notebook. "I think that's a good one."
He nodded quickly and glanced at the photograph before setting it aside, forcing himself not to become anxious looking at his own image. The Bucky Barnes that barely resembled who he was anymore. He could only wish he was that dashing, proud-looking young man again, who fought diligently and expected his worst fate would be to die fighting Nazis. He probably never imagined what his real destiny ultimately was.
"Nothing else in here," Solace exclaimed, and Bucky looked over to see she had practically stuck her head into the box. He tried to hide a snicker. "Just one thing more—ok, here!" She sat up straight again, and dangling from her hand was a long beaded chain with a pair of dog tags that clinked together. She set the empty box aside and held up the tags to read them; Bucky read them silently right alongside her. James B Barnes, 32557038, T42 43 A, P.
"Your… dog tags from the war?" Solace realized, looking up at Bucky with an awed expression. "That's… really cool! Authentic World War II tags!"
He chuckled at her enthusiasm, wondering if she'd be just as enthralled if there had been an authentic WWII era pistol in the box as well, or maybe a U.S. military medal or patch from the time period. "Yes, ma'am. In case you doubted my credentials."
She swatted him playfully. "Baby, if I haven't doubted your entire background up to this point, I don't think I'm going to get hung up on the idea of you being a military man," she teased. "Besides, I love a man in uniform."
Bucky shook his head in disbelief at her. There was nothing about him she wouldn't find a silver lining to.
"Here you go, sweet thing," Solace continued happily, sitting up on her knees and holding up the dog tags. He obligingly dipped his head so she could place the chain around his neck, and she smiled. "So… your name really is James," she teased. "Was Bucky really your nickname back then, too?"
"Yeah, as far as I can tell. I remember being called Bucky more than I do my real name."
"That's funny," she replied, though her words were filled with warmth and understanding. "You know… Solace isn't really my real name either. I mean… it is. It's my middle name. But my real name is Sara Morgan. I've just… been going by an alias. Ever since SHIELD fell apart, I've been worried HYDRA agents might find me in their records and try to track me down for their own ends."
Bucky frowned, feeling bad for her predicament; she hadn't even become a real agent of SHIELD yet, and her life was still disrupted by the events of Washington, D.C. "I see," he said, turning over her real name in his head. "Sara, huh? I like it. I always thought that was a pretty name."
She smiled, blushing just a little, and kissed his cheek. "James is nice too," she offered.
"Now you're just saying that," he retorted, glancing down at his dog tags where they hung against his chest. The sight of them gave him an oddly empowered sort of feeling, a sense of pride that he could not quite place. Yet at the same time, his mind went back to images of a lab, being trapped and delirious and helpless. All he could do was recite his personal information until it became a mantra against the pain and horror. Sergeant James Barnes, 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment, U.S. Army. Sergeant James Barnes, 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment, U.S. Army. Sergeant… Barnes… 32557…
Solace interrupted him by kissing his lips firmly, and only then did Bucky realize he was mouthing the words silently.
"Are you ok?" she whispered, pulling away.
"Y-Yeah."
The two were quiet for several moments, and Bucky was suddenly grateful there was nothing left in the lockbox. He didn't like forcing all this on her. He kept drowning in memories, over and over, and Solace had to keep pulling him back. She was probably just as exhausted as he was.
"I love you," he whispered, his face creasing with sadness. "I'm sorry I do this to you."
Solace stared at him, silently. Whatever joy had been left in her face had faded, leaving only pain in her beautiful brown eyes.
"If it meant you could stay," she said, quietly, "I would take it. Every day, if I had to."
The words were like a knife in his heart. Bucky cringed, his jaw tightening so hard it hurt. "Don't say that…" he began, but it was not enough to stop the tears from spilling down Solace's face.
"Bucky, I… I don't want you to leave," she whimpered, covering her face and muffling her sadness into her hands. "I know I said we'll be ok, but… I-I don't know if I can trust myself to believe that. I want us to be ok. I really do. I know why you have to go, b-but… I can't bear it. I wish you'd just leave in the middle of the night so I wouldn't have to force myself to say goodb—" A sob cut through her words, and her whole body heaved with the pain; Bucky immediately grabbed both her shoulders and pulled her against him before she collapsed. She cried, hard, and he gripped at her delicate frame as if he were the only person capable of keeping her held together.
"Solace… please… don't…" he begged, swallowing hard to keep his own tears at bay. But he had no words of comfort, no empty sentiments to throw at the looming reality of the situation. He could delay their parting if he wanted, but he could not be so selfish as to simply stay. He cared about her far too much to put her in danger, or subject her to the judgment of authorities; aiding the Winter Soldier was almost certainly a crime, too. Or maybe they'd be more interested in her powers, and wish to study or cultivate them for their own uses. In the end, they'd still tear them apart either way, and then she'd be alone and without her freedom.
Bucky couldn't do that to her. This vibrant angel who always smiled and found something to love in him could not be subjected to such a thing. And perhaps, in return, Solace wanted the same consideration for him. She would rather give up the man she loved if it meant he could be free, instead of imprisoned for the crimes she knew were not really his fault.
"I-I'm sorry," she cried softly, hiding her face against his shoulder. "I don't really want you to just… go. I love you. I'll be here for you as long as you need me. I'm just… being selfish…"
"Shh. Stop," he scolded, pressing a firm kiss into the curve of her neck. "If you're being selfish, then so am I. I want to stay too, Solace. I want to spend every day just holding on to you, and listening to you laugh, and seeing you smile, and feeling like for once… I matter. That I don't just ruin every life I touch, and I'm not just the weapon they wanted me to be. I don't want to be their soldier…"
Bucky pulled back, just as Solace lifted her head to stare at him. The sight of her eyes, wide with wonder, was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"…I want to be yours."
Solace visibly gasped. Perhaps she didn't expect Bucky to want such a thing, to submit to someone else after only just getting used to the freedom he'd obtained. But what was freedom without purpose? Ever since the Winter Soldier had been turned loose, left alone to fend for himself, Bucky had only thought to shore up his defenses. To protect himself long enough to reclaim his past, no matter what the cost. But running and hiding was so exhausting. He'd been fighting every single day he could possibly remember, and maybe now… he just needed someone to fight for him. To protect him when he couldn't lift his limbs to defend himself. He wanted to sleep without fear, and breathe without trembling, and finally just… trust someone.
"Bucky…" Solace's voice was a soft whine of disbelief. "Baby… why me?"
He smiled sadly, and looked down to examine himself. The scarred, broken, injured body that she didn't shy away from, despite what it had been forged into over the years. "Why me?" he countered, simply.
The tears welled up in her eyes again, but Solace did not cry this time. She instead shifted to crawl into his lap, straddling him so she could look into his eyes. She placed her hands on his shoulders, firmly pushing his back against the wall, keeping him at arm's length while she took in the sight of him. Bucky had to force back a brief impulse of fear, not liking his helpless position. Instead, he reminded himself how badly he wanted to trust her, that giving in to this woman was what he wanted all along.
"Tell me what you want," he said, his voice low and his heart pounding hard. "Whatever it is, you can have it."
Solace studied him for a few moments, before she lowered her face to his and kissed him, tenderly. A thrill of excitement ran through him, both at the taste of her mouth and the way her fingers raked down his chest. Her touching him was not unfamiliar anymore, but the assertiveness in the way she gripped at him carried a note of something new, something that took his breath away, even from such a subtle gesture.
"All I want is for you to be happy," she told him. "Even if it's just for one day, one hour, one minute… I want you to just… forget all that pain. Forget the Winter Soldier, forget leaving tomorrow, forget all of it. If you want to be mine, then let me take all that away. If that's the only thing I can do for you… let me do it."
Bucky nodded quickly; after all, he knew he was powerless against her affection, against the feelings that had been steadily building in him over the last two and a half months. He loved how kind and intelligent and strong Solace was, certainly, but another part of him craved the rest of her. The passion in her eyes, the gentle aggression in her touch, and the beauty that he saw in every passing glance at her was sometimes just too much for him, and he'd finally had enough of holding back. He reached up to tentatively brush his thumb over her cheek, before letting his finger trace down her neck and along the v-line of her shirt. He could see the color in her face and how she trembled in response.
"You sure you're ok with this, kitten?" he asked, trying not to sound as awkward as he felt.
Solace visibly swallowed, but she managed a timid smile and nodded. Her eyes lowered to observe his fingers, still hovering on the low cut of her shirt, and she reached up to grab his wrist. She guided him to push the fabric aside, and Bucky got a momentary glimpse of the pastel pink bra underneath. His eyes flickered back up to stare at her as his fingers slid past even this barrier, and he watched her gasp when he brushed over the sensitive skin underneath. The response on her face was exhilarating, and judging by the way she shifted in his lap, she could tell he liked it, too.
"Be nice to me, soldier," she said, attempting to tease, but she wasn't smiling when she said it. He could tell she was uneasy. Maybe she'd never done this before. Bucky realized he'd never asked about her experience with relationships. But it didn't really matter; none of that mattered now. All he knew was that he wanted her to be happy, too.
"Always," he whispered, pressing a kiss into her neck and letting his arms wrap around her.
At first, Bucky thought he liked everything about Solace already. They were still at a point in their relationship where he felt butterflies in his stomach just by looking at her, and his eyes were still drawn to the curves of her breasts and hips, his imagination wandering despite his best efforts. But he soon found he knew so very little about her after all, and every discovery was something new to love.
For instance, he loved the way her legs hooked around his waist when he picked her up and carried her across the room, and how disheveled her hair looked when he tossed her on top of his bed.
He loved the way she carelessly kicked her things off the bed, making room for the two of them, and the eager look in her eyes when he climbed on top of her.
Bucky especially loved how easy it was to make her voice change. How she could go from a sultry, playful coo in his ear, to a high-pitched, nearly shocked cry whenever he touched her just right, whenever his teeth grazed her skin, whenever his hands roamed where she'd never let them go before. He loved how obviously excited she already was, and how easily she let him pull her clothing off. He did not, unfortunately, love how complicated her bra was, or how he had to pause and give her a frustrated glare when he couldn't figure out how to unhook it from her body. He also wasn't particularly fond of the way she giggled at him as she made it look so easy to remove, but Bucky decided he could forgive her—her panties came off much faster, after all, and she certainly wasn't giggling anymore when he dipped his head down low to taste her.
It somehow felt a little selfish, pleasuring a woman. Even if he was the one doing all the work, giving her all the gratification, and she was simply laying there, writhing beautifully under him, there was still so much to be satisfied with. The way she moaned his name in broken, needy breaths, the way she tugged on his hair, the way he felt in complete possession of her when she arched her back sharply and wailed as she came—he loved all of it. But most of all, he loved the exhausted, blissful look on her face, and how her dazed eyes followed his movements when he sat up, wiped his mouth, and began to remove the rest of his clothing. Even if she was still reeling, still shivering from what he had done to her, he could see the lust in her gaze and the weak smile on her lips while she watched him undress. He would have been self-conscious if he wasn't so aroused; Bucky never wanted to be selfish with her, but he could only take so much before he caved into his own needs.
Fortunately, Solace seemed to sense the urgency in his movements as well. She welcomed him back when he moved on top of her again, and the heat of her body was nearly searing as he placed grateful kisses on every inch of skin he could reach. Bucky shifted his weight to brace himself primarily on his left arm, leaving his other one free to explore the curves of her body. His thumb brushed gingerly over the bandages still wrapped around her left shoulder, before he ran his hand lovingly down her side and across her hip, to gently push her legs apart.
"Oh," Solace gasped, feeling him press against her thigh. She glanced down at the space between them, and the uncertainty in her eyes made him hesitate. But after a moment, she inhaled, slowly, letting her gaze travel up to meet his again. She must have seen the concern in his face, for she managed a small smile and shook her head. "Don't stop," she whispered.
Bucky stared at her, torn, wanting to move, but not wanting to look away from the absolutely beautiful expression of surrender in her face. But Solace gave him no room to think; she was reaching for him, pulling him into a kiss and into her warmth. He thought he felt her cry out in surprise when he finally moved, but if she did, he couldn't hear it for the sound of his own deep, startled groan, muffled against the wetness of her mouth.
Helpless, Bucky dug his fingers hard into the bedsheets, feeling every fiber of her tense around him. The sensation was brief, yet powerful, and it touched off a torrent of pleasure that threatened to drown him, even as he was frantically trying to figure out how to slow this down. She whined under him in discomfort, and they had to spend a few moments adjusting, shifting, trying to discover what worked. He tried his hardest not to push any closer to her until she reached up to grab his dog tags, dangling haphazardly in the space between them. She tugged on the chain and he obediently followed; their lips brushed and he could taste the tiniest hint of her smile.
"I'm ok," she said, grazing her tongue over his lower lip possessively, eliciting a sharp gasp from him. "Go ahead."
Their initial grinding was strange, awkward—hardly unexpected for their first time together—but, as Bucky grew bolder and his movements more deliberate, Solace seemed to relax more and more. Her face softened from an uncomfortable expression to one clouded with pleasure, and the sight of it only fueled his own excitement.
Did she know how good she felt? Did she know how desperately he needed this? Bucky wished he could voice all his feelings to her then, but he was too busy moaning, too busy fishing for his release, to muster the words. She'd forgive him, right? She'd understand if he could barely remember his own name, much less how to tell her she was the most beautiful thing to ever happen to him.
Solace wrapped her legs around his waist suddenly, and he nearly choked on the unexpected new angle, seeing stars at the corners of his vision. One of her hands reached up to grab his left arm, bracing herself against the only sturdy thing within reach, the only thing not hot and damp and trembling with the friction between their two bodies. Her other hand slid up his back, pulling him close, so he could hear her voice even over the deafening sound of his own heartbeat.
"Please," she begged, and he was almost alarmed at the sheer desperation and loss of control in her voice. "Bucky—"
He lost himself in her plea, driving into her harder and trying hard not to bruise their hips together in his building passion. He could feel himself just on the edge of his release, wavering between his own desire and the need to see her satisfied. But it wasn't until he felt her come a second time, her nails digging into his shoulder and a broken sob of pleasure tumbling out of her, that Bucky finally let himself fall apart. He buried his face in her neck, crying out her name, until the searing heat was nothing but a white hot blur that overtook his mind, culminating in one final word, one perfect summation of everything this was and ever would be to him.
Solace.
Your first time isn't perfect, but it's pretty close when it's with the one you love.
The description on Bucky's dog tags is taken from an actual replica set I own; there were a few different dog tag formats for the Army during World War II, but Bucky's particular set is formatted with his name, Army serial number, valid years for his tetanus shot, blood type, and religion. Some of the details were probably invented by whoever produced the tags, but the serial number is accurate to what Bucky was reciting during Captain America: The First Avenger (with additional digits to make it a valid serial number length).
It's admittedly a little strange to have their real names get introduced so late in their story; I had them discuss it about two chapters ago originally, but when I edited the story afterward, I had to move some stuff around to avoid redundancy. So the name explanations got moved here. Apologies if it seems weird. xD
Thank you all again for continuing to support the story! I appreciate all your reviews, follows, and faves! Please consider reviewing, and I'll see you again next week~
