We spent the night at Bucky's - not because he had so much to pack, or because it was cozy and we wanted to leave it with a good memory, but honestly because the idea of redressing after we undressed for the second time was repugnant to both of us.

"I do have a bed," he teased, hovering over me where I was prone on his living room floor, but I shook my head and arched into him ending whatever push he was making for a move to another room, but getting him to roll onto his back and giving me full reign of our lovemaking.

Nipping his lip and getting him to laugh, I couldn't help but take a minute to just appreciate how fucking gorgeous he was looked - the blue light flickering from the television highlighting all the best parts of him, which was all of him - to be honest.

"Come here," I pulled on his shoulders, knowing that if he didn't want to rise up with me I wouldn't be able to make him, but he did, sitting up - chest to chest with me, my arms wrapping around his neck I stared into his eyes. "You are -" I wasn't sure how to articulate it, to say just what he was to me. "I love you and it doesn't seem like it's -" but he didn't let me try to finish, his mouth meeting mine as his fingertips danced down my spine. "I thought it was my turn to be in charge," I murmured when his lips left mine, ghosting along my jaw to nip at my pulse.

"You weren't really doing much with the power, Brooke," he teased, his tongue tasting the hint of sweat we'd managed to work up since we'd arrived.

"Are you daring me, James?" I moved just enough to get a sharp inhaled breath - loud enough for me to hear for once, "well?"

Bucky's teeth met my pulse and I swallowed just as loudly as he'd inhaled. He didn't bite, he only let me feel them against my skin and I knew that he felt how that tiny pressure affected me all the way down to where we were joined. "Maybe," his breath against my skin, those two syllables had me rock my hips once - earning a hiss from his lips.

My fingers slid through his hair and met at the base of his neck, tugging to get his gaze to meet mine again. "Come here," I urged, and then our lips met again, but this time I rode him as our teeth and tongues dueled, and if I had been loud at the hotel in Louisiana, I made damn sure that I had company in the noise pollution here in New York.

He carried me to his bed, refusing to sleep on the floor after our exercise. Laying me down carefully on a blanket that felt brand new, he traced over my skin as if he was taking inventory. Just as I was getting ready to ask if he was planning on joining me, his fingertips stopped their journey, and I looked up to see him staring at where they'd landed.

"What is it?" I considered raising up on my elbows, but I was comfortable, even without being under the blanket or cradled in his arms.

"I bruised you," he was worrying his lower lip with those brilliant white teeth of his and I almost teased him about how I was pretty sure he also left a bite mark or two on me, but his eyes were narrowed with concern so I knew now was not the time to mock his upset.

I let my own hand drift down to meet his, touching his fingers that were still laying gently against my skin. "Hey," his eyes met mine and I smiled. "I'm pretty sure that you're wearing a few marks from me, too." I knew he was, not only the bite from the plane, but scratches and who knew what other marks I'd managed to make on his skin - he'd called me a hellcat and I felt certain I'd earned it.

Bucky sighed and started to pull away, but I was having NONE of that. My hand touched his, then I worked to hold on, getting our fingers linked in spite of his less than best efforts. "You really think that you could hurt me?" I shook my head and he sighed, letting me pull him down onto the bed beside me. "Physically?" His eyebrow was arched in a wondrous display of complete disbelief in my ability to cause him harm.

I shook my head at him. "No, I don't think I can hurt you, Buck." I sighed, and waited while he situated the pillows to his liking that way I could use him for MY pillow. Once he managed the feat, I pressed my cheek against his chest, next to his dog tags, where I could hear his heart pound soothingly. "I think that you need to understand that I'm not going to break because we got frisky," he sighed again, but his fingers were back on my skin, sliding gently over the bareness, drawing designs again, brushing my loose hair out of his way. "Are you listening to me?" He hummed and I went on, snuggling into his chest. "A bruise here or there, a scratch or two or three? A bite or a mark? None of that matters, Bucky. It doesn't because it wasn't done in anger."

Another sigh, with less force, but I knew that he was listening to me, so I waited for him to counter my argument. "I - I don't want to hurt YOU," his chin was on the top of my head, the heat of his breath was hot against my scalp. "My strength, I could so easily -"

"Hey," I moved so my chin was propped up on his sternum, with his head on the pillows it was an awkward angle, but we made it work so we could look at one another. "You didn't. I'm fine. Complete working order here, Bucky Barnes." I smiled up at him, before I moved my face back down to face against his chest, kissing his skin. "I only LET you carry me in here like Tarzan because you seem to like manhandling me."

That got a laugh, which was the point. Bucky getting tense over something as slight as a little discoloration after we had sexy fun times, which I planned on us having much more of I might add, wasn't something I wanted to become routine. I knew he had baggage, who wouldn't be given his past, but I fully intended to make sure that he knew that I loved him and he wasn't broken or ruined. Together we were two slightly fucked up people, but I thought that together we might be able to figure things out and make our combined shit more manageable.

I left the next morning, after I had leftover Chinese - since Bucky had been out of town for long enough to make me doubt most of what was left in his fridge. He had to check in with his therapist - a reminder from me for that gold star so I could celebrate with him at the house later - and then he was coming back to his place to pack up to move in with me.

"Do you need help?" I would stay, I could stay, but he shook his head as his grin took my breath away.

"The only things that are really mine are my clothes and books," he promised, and I smiled up at him as he put my bags into the Uber that had arrived to take me back to my - OUR - house. "I'll call you when I'm on my way," he held the door for me as I got into the car and then leaned into kiss me goodbye. "No more pineapples," he vowed and I nodded.

"Gold star, mister," I reminded him and he shook his head with a huge smile. "I love you," I mouthed as the driver pulled away, and my heart stuttered as I watched him mouth the words right back.

I needed the time it was going to take him to check in with Raynor and pack up his humble belongings to get my own welcome home surprise together. I texted Connie during the drive from his apartment and was laughing as she texted me back almost immediately.

"Oh NOW you have time for me" the addition of a few choice emojis reminded me of my failure as a best friend, but then she sent another text. "How long are you alone before he's back within sniffing range?"

I sent her my best estimate and she calmed my ratcheting nerves by reminding me that she had half days and she'd be over to help me set the scene for Bucky's return. When the driver let me out, shucking my bags onto the porch, I took a deep breath and hoped like fuck that I wasn't about to set off some trigger in Bucky's PTSD reserves with my little surprise. That would suck balls, and it would ruin our first night as cohabitants in the house.

Looking around the living room once I got my bags inside, it sobered me when I realized that technically the wrong trigger with Bucky could actually fucking demolish the house. Oh well, I thought, putting as much forced positivity into the thought as I could - too late to back out now.