A of all, I've got the autographs of two Captain Americas, which is all I need. And B of all: what, you? This pipsqueak?
[ there's the skeptical tilt of an eyebrow as bucky straightens to his full height, looking down and pointedly eyeing the eight inches of space between them. he holds his hand flat right above her head, indicating the exact spot where her height ends.
all of this teasing is playful and joyously stupid and banal and it's actually exactly what he needed, after too many hours awake crossing timezones and the ache of bruises on his ribs and the smell of gunpowder on his gloves. he hadn't expected a conversation. he'd expected to come home to this empty barebones apartment, kick off his boots and just pour his body into the bed, hopefully exhausted enough to actually sleep the whole night through this time.
except now he's wired with a kind of overtired energy and the unexpected delight in finding her here. (in not being alone, just a little while longer.) ]
no subject
[ there's the skeptical tilt of an eyebrow as bucky straightens to his full height, looking down and pointedly eyeing the eight inches of space between them. he holds his hand flat right above her head, indicating the exact spot where her height ends.
all of this teasing is playful and joyously stupid and banal and it's actually exactly what he needed, after too many hours awake crossing timezones and the ache of bruises on his ribs and the smell of gunpowder on his gloves. he hadn't expected a conversation. he'd expected to come home to this empty barebones apartment, kick off his boots and just pour his body into the bed, hopefully exhausted enough to actually sleep the whole night through this time.
except now he's wired with a kind of overtired energy and the unexpected delight in finding her here. (in not being alone, just a little while longer.) ]
I call bullshit, Belova.