Content warning: Adult content toward the end.

Bucky watched through the Winter Soldier's eyes as Steve dropped his shield through a blown out portion of the Insight ship. The assassin flew at the defenseless blond, and in a blur of movement had the other man pinned beneath him.

"You're my mission," he hissed through grit teeth.

His cybernetic arm drew back before connecting with the soldier's jaw. Over and over, the assassin pummeled his face before pausing, the barest tingle of recognition in his brain.

"Then finish it," encouraged the Captain. His face was swollen, split, bruised by the Soldier's hands. "'Cause I'm with you to the end of the line."

The assassin's jaw fell, his breathing uneven and painful. Steve?

A beam from above fell, narrowly avoiding the two but taking out the glass bottom of the ship which the two had ended up on. The assassin grabbed ahold of a beam that was still intact, watching the blond he was now positive he knew fall to the waters below, shards of glass, metal, and debris dancing around his unmoving figure. Bucky was screaming, desperately wanting the Soldier to move, to do something.

His wish was granted, and the assassin dropped down, shifting his body into a dive. He grabbed the Captain's forearm, tugging him upward toward the surface. It was a difficult swim to shore between the prone body attached to his shoulders and the expanse of fragments from the ship creating a dangerous egress. Finally, he made it, breathing hard and limbs feeling like jelly. He dragged the Captain onto the sandy bank, gazing down at his bloodied form. Once the other man had drawn a breath, the assassin turned, ready to disappear once again with the assurance that the blond would live.

Bucky was helpless, wanting to turn back around and make sure that Steve was alright. How could he have done that to him? How did he not recognize him at all until he had done him so much damage? He had to make sure his closest friend was alright, but his body wasn't his to move.

Steve! Steve! Steve!

"James?!"

Bucky jolted upward, fingers disappearing into his sweat-drenched hair and gripping tight. A shift beside him caught his attention and he froze, his breath halting automatically from years of practice remaining silent when caught off guard.

"James, do you know who you are right now?" came Harper's even voice. He gave a single nod, but made no other reaction. She continued, "Okay. I'm going to move away to give you some space. That's what you want, right?"

Several nods this time. Slowly, he felt her slip from the worn blankets that topped his mattress. He heard her move cautiously to the far end of the sofa, and approved vaguely of her choice. She was positioning herself closer to the door without really leaving him alone.

Gently, she asked, "Do you know where you are right now? Who I am?"

He nodded once for each question, and finally exhaled the breath he was holding. The dark haired man lowered his hands from his hairline, scrubbing at his streaming eyes. His body was shaking, and the sweating hadn't stopped yet. Images of himself, just two years prior, filled his mind's eye. Approaching a black SUV, police and civilians alike injured or dead in the street behind him. The Leader shooting an innocent woman in his kitchen because she had seen the Asset. Heavy boots pounding against tarmac before landing squarely in the chest of a man, throwing him backwards into the spinning blades of a jet where he was instantly shredded. Grenades flying from his fingertips, the smell of charred corpses…

Bucky shot up, bee-lining for the bathroom. He just barely made it to the toilet before the contents of his stomach made a reappearance. Bile began burning his throat, and he let out a sob that he simply couldn't hold back. Gentle fingers worked with a feather light touch, gathering the hair falling in his face and pulling it back out of the way. Nails just barely skimming his skin, the strands plastered to his sweaty forehead were also collected.

"Is it okay that I'm touching you?" Harper asked in a whisper.

"I'm… I'm not gonna hurt you," he muttered around another sob. "I can't, I can't, I can't…"

His body was numb while his brain was a whirlwind of near indecipherable feelings and memories. How many people had he killed on the tarmac alone? Twenty? Thirty? In two minutes, how many families had he destroyed?

Gentle fingers tugged off his t-shirt, but he hardly paid attention. His underwear followed, but he didn't even have it in him to feel embarrassed about the situation. Next thing he knew, a hand was gently coaxing him to step into the shower. He lifted a leg over the side of the old tub and into the warm spray of water. Evidently, the shower had been running for several minutes without his notice. Legs feeling weak, he sank down into a seated position at the front of the tub, letting the water pour down on him.

And that poor woman, killed just for knowing of his cursed existence. Surely she had a family that would never know what had happened to their loved one. His hands clenched, fingertips biting into his palms. But only one truly felt it.

Nimble digits ran through his hair, parting and moving sections until it was all fully wet. The smell of patchouli filled the small space before those same hands began gently working the shampoo into a lather against his scalp. They took care around his hairline to avoid losing any suds, before moving back to gently comb through the long locks.

All those people on the bus in D.C., the people on that highway, the people in the streets. Just trying to go about their day, when he had to come along and destroyed everything. How many people got calls from the police, from the hospital, to tell them that there had been an accident? That someone they loved was injured or dead? That he had taken them away?

The sobs had stopped, he noted. Though it felt rather a lot like tears were still streaming from his eyes and mucus from his nose. He also noticed the steady hands lathering soap on his back. Firm thumbs were pressing into the hard ridges of muscles in his shoulder blades. Had Harper followed him into the shower?

"What're you doing?" he choked, throat raw.

"Is it not okay?"

"I… it's okay, but…"

"Then let it be okay."

That shut him up, picking up on the double meaning immediately. A cloth had found his skin now, making ginger passes up and down his back, his flesh arm. The brunette reached around him to scrub soap across his chest, his abdomen. She fumbled slightly around his hips before pressing herself into his back so that she could reach his legs, pulled up toward his chest as they were. He relished in the feeling of her flesh against his, loving the heat from her smooth skin, the softness of her body against the hardness of his genetically altered one. The former assassin – former soldier? – let his head fall backward to rest in the curve of her neck and shoulder. She pushed aside the wet curtain of her dark hair, allowing him full contact with her skin. He peppered kisses there, a stream of nonsensical apologies and self-hatred tumbling uncontrollably from his lips.

The cloth fell by his foot and her arms came around him, holding him in an embrace that was not tight, but was reassuringly, comfortably firm. His words dissolved into another round of sobs into her neck. She turned and pressed a kiss to his temple before tucking him against her again. Slowly, the tears died completely and he sat there, simply shaking in her hold. It took him a long time to realize that he was shaking because the water had turned cold.

"Fuck, Harper," he groaned, leaning forward to shut the water. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize," she replied evenly. "Just stand."

He did as he was told, and allowed her to begin patting him dry with a towel. She wrapped the item around his waist, her cheeks flushing as she did so. Blue eyes watched as she wrung out her hair and grabbed a second towel, wrapping it around herself quickly. The brunette stepped out of the shower and he followed, standing stupidly on the spot when she didn't move any further.

Harper took his hand gently in hers, pulling him out of the bathroom to stand near his bed. She rummaged in his small bin of clothes for a moment before standing again. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and panic all over again, but with a totally different root cause.

He gathered the woman up in his arms and she dropped the clothes in her surprise. Her towel, too, hit the floor. All for the better. The thought of not being able to feel her – all of her – had been the trigger to this new round of panic, after all.

"No clothes," he mumbled brokenly. "Just you."

"Okay," she agreed. He could hear in her voice that she didn't understand, but had easily accepted the request anyway.

They sank as a unit to the rumpled mattress, not caring about their wet hair on his pillows. Bucky allowed himself to wrap around her, which wasn't difficult given his much larger frame. He needed to feel her, to know that she was real, that she was his. He knew he didn't deserve her – that he'd never deserve her – but she was here, she was his, and she was so good. Good for him, good for everyone whose life she touched. She was precious, she was his.

"James?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he replied immediately. He knew it wasn't fair to this beautiful woman who had just held him, bathed him – shit, washed vomit from his hair for him. But he also knew that she would respect his boundaries. "I just want you. I love you."

"I love you, too," she responded without hesitation. "You're a good man with a difficult past, and I love you."

He held her tighter, burying his face into the top of her head. They spoke no more that night, but it was all he needed and more.

Harper: You bought me macarons.

James: That sounded awful accusatory, doll.

Harper: Confirmed then. No creepy stalker, just a boyfriend who feels unduly indebted to me from the other night.

James: I don't feel indebted. I feel grateful.

There was a notable pause before her next text.

Harper: Fuck, I'm a bitch.

James: You're no such thing. Take them. I just wanted you to know that I'm beyond thankful to have you in my life.

Harper: People are staring at me because I'm red and teary at my desk, staring at my phone. You're coming over tonight to eat some of these, okay?

James: Whatever you want, darlin.

The barest hint of summer was in the air. He was getting good at yoga. There was plenty of work at the docks. His nightmares had been minimal lately. Harper was as perfect for him as ever. He had finished the Chronicles series and had begun The Da Vinci Code. Was this what a second chance looked like?

Half a box of condoms had been used before Harper began to enjoy the during rather than just the before and after. Thus, Bucky was beyond relieved when her nails bit into his bicep and the breath hissed between her teeth. As much as he loved – really loved – sex with her, he wasn't sure how many more times he could do it, knowing he was leaving her sore and stressed out about not having enjoyed the deed more.

"That good, doll?" he asked, rocking his hips forward again.

She hummed lightly and shifted, moving her free hand and letting it move down to tease her bundle of nerves.

"Fuck, darlin'," he hissed, bright blue eyes squeezing closed. "Lemme do that."

He gently swatted her hand out of the way, replacing her fingers with his on her clit. She hummed again, arching into his chest slightly. His hips and fingers gradually but surely sped up until he heard the telltale curse falling shakily from her lips. "Think you can cum on my cock, doll?"

Her eyes fell closed, her cheeks flushing at his words even in the heat of the moment they were sharing. He urged, "C'mon, I want you dripping on me before I finish. I can't fill you up, so I at least want you to soak me."

"Holy shit, James," she breathed, face aflame.

"Fuck, Harper," he moaned, getting closer just thinking about finally feeling her orgasm. "Let go, doll, so I can cum and then lick you clean."

And then it happened. He felt the rhythmic clenching on his length signaling her orgasm. His forehead dropped to her collarbone and he thrust home one more time before his own release washed over him. His mind went blissfully blank, his whole body buzzing with pleasure. As he began to come down from his high, he was vaguely aware that her orgasm was a small, not-so-earth-shattering one, but she got off during nonetheless.

The former soldier peppered kisses along Harper's collarbone and the side of her neck, his breaths shallow and raspy as he began trying to recover. He felt her fingers thread through his hair, pushing the damp strands back from his face.

"You okay, doll?" he muttered against her skin.

She hummed in the affirmative, continuing the gentle stroking of his hair. Feeling more grounded, he pushed himself up onto his forearms, placed a kiss on her lips, and withdrew from her heat. Quickly disposing of the condom, he began sliding down the mattress. Harper picked her head up, looking at him with wide eyes. "Wait, James, what're you-?"

"I promised to clean you up," he clarified, grinning at her salaciously.

"You don't-"

Bucky lifted a brow. "Are you satisfied with one little orgasm?"

"It's not that, I just… Are you put off?"

"By…?" He watched her eyes flick down between his hips, then off to the side to avoid his gaze. "By the fact that my dick was just inside you? That you're really wet?"

"Both," she muttered begrudgingly, cheeks flushing again.

"No, not at all. Now, hurry up and let me in. I want to drink my fill before the fountain runs dry."

Her hands shot up to cover her face, but she also allowed her legs to fall apart. Bucky ran kisses over the inside of her left thigh, running his tongue over a thin stretch mark there. He savored the taste of her arousal which had spread to her inner thighs, a small preview of what he was about to extract from her core. Unable to wait any longer, he buried himself in her folds. He lost himself in the task, in her flavor washing over his tongue, in the tiny movements in her body that would guide him to do better. Struck by inspiration, he pulled back.

"Darlin', look at me," he instructed. Harper opened her bright brown eyes, turning to look at him with a blush rapidly spreading across her face. "Don't look away, okay?"

"Why?" she practically squeaked, eyes already flickering between his gaze and somewhere else in the room.

"I want to see those pretty eyes," Bucky answered flirtatiously. Then, with a smirk, he added, "And I want you to watch me eat you."

"You're… kinky," Harper replied before pulling a pillow in front of her face.

Bucky responded by flattening his tongue against her slit and swiping it upward in a broad stroke. Then, he coaxed, "Darlin', I think you're gonna enjoy it."

He returned to her core, leisurely running his tongue across her skin again. Slowly, she peeked down from over the pillow, which he rewarded with a strong suckle to her clit. The brunette tucked the pillow beneath her head, eyes gazing uncertainly down to him, nestled between her legs. He stared up at her, drawing the tip of his tongue around her bundle of nerves teasingly. Still holding her gaze, he stiffened his tongue and began slowly spearing her weeping center, eyes locked with hers all the while. Her lips just barely parted, her teeth clamping on the lower one.

He returned to his task with vigor. The former soldier couldn't help himself and let out a pleased growl, his eyes flicking up to her face in time to see heat bloom brighter on her cheeks. She met his eyes, to her credit, and he grinned wickedly. Bucky fluttered his tongue against her sensitive bud, drawing a tiny moan from the brunette. He froze at the noise, unaccustomed to hearing her pleasure vocalized in anything other than a hissed curse or a shaky exhale. Blue eyes moved upward again.

"Eyes," he reminded before repeating the motion against her clit, alternating with wrapping his lips around it.

Her bright brown eyes flew open, and she hissed, "You kinky fuck."

He chuckled but didn't let up. Her thighs began to tremble, and he grasped her hips, pulling her harder against his mouth. Putting aside the fatigue in his jaw, he redoubled his efforts, determined to draw another moan from her. He succeeded, her thighs tightening around him automatically and another small moan tumbling from her lips as an orgasm hit. The brunet followed her through it, slowing down as her legs slid back to the mattress. He finished with one more broad upward stroke and a flick of the tip of his tongue on her clit, making her hips jump.

"Holy fuck, James," she breathed, chest heaving with the effort of coming down off her own high.

He joined her at the head of the bed, licking his lips before placing a kiss at her temple. "Happy birthday, Harper."

"Will I have to wait until the next birthday for a repeat performance?" she asked with a breathy chuckle.

"You need only wait a half hour and I'll be good to go again," he smirked.

"Insatiable," she snorted a laugh, shoving lightly at his chest.

"Maybe a little," Bucky allowed. More seriously, he asked, "Are you alright, though?"

Harper understood immediately that he wasn't talking about the oral she had just received. "Yeah, that was a lot better for me this time."

"Are you in any pain?"

"James, I'm fine," she assured, though he didn't miss that she had avoided his question. Looking somewhat worried herself, she admitted, "I'm just growing more and more concerned that you're going to get bored with me."

"How could I get bored with you?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"I feel like I'm being a pillow princess," Harper sighed.

"A what?"

"Like… always receiving, never giving? And you seem more… adventurous than just doing missionary. I feel like you're gonna get bored."

"First off, I really don't think I could ever tire of you. You taste fucking amazing and you're insanely wet and tight. Couldn't ask for much more there. And, doll, we've barely hit the tip of the iceberg. We've just started having sex. Until I get a feel for your limits and until it feels like your body can handle more, I'm not interested in going there. It's far from fun for me to cause you pain."

"I know," she muttered dejectedly. "It's your fault for being so… sizeable."

He chuckled and bumped a kiss to her temple again. The former soldier adjusted his arms around her, tightening his hold. "I love you the way you are. The way things are between us. I never knew I needed someone like you in my life, but here you are. Perfect for me."

Harper tucked her face into his shoulder, the one crawling with scars. "I love you, too, James. Since we met, things have seemed a bit brighter."

His heart swelled with a twinge in his chest, forcing a smile to his lips. Things couldn't get much better.

A/N: Thank you all for the continued support. And many thanks to the folks regularly giving feedback. Y'all the best.