agogelogs | THE AMAZING BASE.

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THE AMAZING BASE.

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Welcome home, nerds.
WHEN? Outside time and space, in the aether between dimensions.
ANYTHING ELSE? There is also a fish. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.

MYSTERY FISH;

question the mystery fish

DEPARTING GALLIPOLI

The order comes the day after the Marie Antoinette sets sail:

PACK UP AND GET READY TO MOVE OUT. WE'VE DONE ALL WE CAN HERE.

DEPLOYMENT: BASE.

WE NEED TO RESTOCK. BE PREPARED FOR MORE TRANSFERS ON ARRIVAL.

STAY SAFE. TIME-STEP EXPECTED TO BEGIN WITHIN THE HOUR.

FOR THOSE OF YOU NEW TO COST: FIND A SECLUDED SPOT AND TRY NOT TO EAT ANYTHING BEFORE THE JUMP.

The Time-Step

The transfer begins like a vibrating heat on the collar bone, just a hum of sensation.

But the vibration spreads. Veteran COST soldiers often refer to this phenomenon as "the buzz". The feeling builds, not unlike standing near a great engine or the wind-rattled branches of a massive tree. There is a long moment of motion sickness and you can't be sure if the world is shaking you from the inside out or the outside in. It may be better to close your eyes against the growing nausea, as the world blurs out of focus.

A star shines in the distance. You may hear the faint rustling of leaves. Some swear they hear voices in this moment, indistinct words echoing off nothingness. Others say they feel a touch of the divine, that the eyes of the eternal look down upon you. Ancient bones rattle just out of earshot, cold and brittle and nothing more than the suggestion of sound. Or maybe it's only an illusion, brought on by the powerful technology grafted into your skin.

One thing is for sure: One moment you are here and the next you are not.

The shift takes you from whatever solitude you could find aboard the Marie Antoinette to the temperature-regulated hallway of what looks like a very poorly put together space station. Droids rush up and down the long hallway, fixing broken bits of machinery or just chattering with each other. A few crows sit on high ledges, looking down and watching. Someone mutters something about a centaur around the corner.

And you might just notice, provided you were in Gallipoli long enough to acquire stowaways, that the parasites lurking on your skin are mercifully gone.

For new arrivals who didn't experience Gallipoli: You, too, will appear in this long hallway, filled with droids and crows and humans (still filthy and clad in ANZAC uniforms, carrying battered equipment from the first World War). And you'll be wearing the minimal COST-issued athletic underwear and holding whatever one item you were allowed to bring. Surprise!

READ THE BASE INFOPAGE.

home away from home

Those who have been to BASE before may find a strangeness to it all: BASE seems...still. The windows show a verdant world instead of the usual aether (though with the typical paranoia), and the halls are bereft of all but a few crows. A man stands at the end of the long hallway you arrived in, waiting for you to get your bearings before he speaks.

Except, you know, he's not a man. He's a centaur.

"It's been barely a week since you left, by my reckoning. But for you, I'm sure, it's been much longer. Still, much has changed. You may have noticed we are...becalmed. This is due, it seems, to an error in our ways. We kept something that does not belong to us, several wild creatures that are meant to be free. They seem to have psychically called out to their home, and their home responded; we are now somewhat stranded.

"But let me explain—the Aether is the nexus between worlds and times, but it is not a dead thing. Creatures live in it. We have crashed onto the back of one such creature, a mighty beast, as large as a small country and entirely undiscovered. We have found why the creature has intercepted us: we have accidentally taken captive some of its children. Shapers, the wild creatures I mentioned, it seems they form a symbiotic bond with the creature, and live happily within its stomach."

He frowns, considering this.

"Shapers, I should mention, are creatures that briefly infested our fair BASE. The issue was dealt with, though we kept some for experimentation. The coelacanth took issue with this, it seems. It can speak, of course; we are stranded very near its head, and if you wish to ask it a question, I implore you to do so. The creature is older than creation—older than me—and only speaks once to any creature it encounters. It's said its wisdom brings kings to their knees."

His eyes crinkle in humor.

"My name is Chiron and I am the caretaker of this place, for those of you whom I have not had the pleasure of meeting. More importantly, I am a trainer and a teacher of some experience; if you wish training or schooling of any sort, do summon me. I will be happy to assist."

He's easy to contact, often found in the library, the training area, his capsule, or elsewhere in the station, attempting to fix what he understands and arguing with crows.

"We intended to spend this time exploring, for this is a rare opportunity to discover more of an entirely uncharted world. I hasten you to see if anything on the coelacanth can be of use, but be careful. Take only what you need, not what you may want. I intend to learn my lessons well; these creatures are not pets. Takes food, water, and any materials of use to us for our survival and perseverance, but no more. We task you with this: explore the coelacanth, and see what of it can be understood. Bring us back samples, but do try to interrupt the natural habitat as little as possible. We are guests here."

He bows and the action shows a slight limp in one of his back legs.

"I would join you, but I am far too old for such activities. Still, do pepper me with any questions you should encounter. I am always available on the network, or in person, within this hulking mass we call home."

And then he leaves you to find your capsules and rest.

CAPSULE ASSIGNMENTS

Once you've found your room and settled in—perhaps taken a shower, collected clothes, and eaten—a droid will approach you with camping equipment and give you a brief explanation of how to access and use the database. It's time to get your gear and go.

Of course, you can decline. You can stay and tend to the fort, maybe try and clean up this patchwork jumble of metal and machinery. But seeing the sights on the back of a giant fish flying through non-space? Who can say no to that?

the undiscovered country.

BASE's airlocks open into a lush valley, vibrant with color and rustling with life that has thrived on the coelacanth's back for millennia. It's a striking shift from the rot and gunfire of Gallipoli, unmarked by shrapnel, bombshells, and never-fresh air.

No, the air here is clean in a way that can leave you breathless, untouched by pollutants and stirred into a gentle breeze. It's a marked departure for anyone used to a more modern Earth or rough equivalent; letting the air sit on your tongue leaves a crisp, unsullied taste behind. And the whole forest feels alive, in a way that reminds you of how small you really are.

A white crow perches in a tree near BASE's exit, too high up to properly engage but a stark contrast to the bright leaves around her. She merely watches recruits come and go with a shrewd eye, feathers fluffed against the light chill. There are other crows scattered throughout the wilderness, some easier to find than others as they flit through the trees, sit on camping equipment, or hitch rides on the hoverbikes.

Besides those brief flashes of black feathers, however, you're left unsupervised.

Try not to fuck up anything too badly.

EXPLORE:INFOPAGE|DATABASE
talk to a fish | destruction report

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC MEMES PLURK

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The drawing is childlike and simple, which he's now starting to find strangely endearing. While completely illogical in real life, the thought-process is completely understandable. While he does expect Bucky to take a moment to think, he doesn't realize what's behind it all. He knows very little about the man, and he imagines it's merely due to not asking rather than him trying to hide it. He'll have to try it one of these days.

"Well, now you remember it. You're welcome."

He laughs under his breath though, clearly just joshing him there. Then it just reminds him of his own situation, where as while he'd until recently been sort of like Bucky. Guess marriage just does that to you.

"Guess I can relate, though. I was married until recently, for about ten years, so going around kissing people wasn't exactly on the forefront of my mind. At least, until uh, joining COST. Guess I just needed someone as straightforward as he was."

Not namin' any names, y'know.

Snorting quietly, Bucky releases a short, pleased laugh, muttering a thanks with the shake of his head. There’s something comfortably familiar about the way their banter always plays out, and he can never find reason to complain. Even as familiarity is something he tries to distance himself from, the easiness that comes with speaking so frankly and thoughtlessly eases the tension in his frame and draws out a peace he’d long left behind. Try as he might to deny himself, it all comes as simply as breathing. And with Henry’s own words of encouragement just now, well...

It’s somewhat surprising to here that Henry’s been married. Not so much the part about having married in the first place—there’s no doubt that Henry would be quite the catch for someone—but more the fact he’s apparently divorced. For such a seemingly easy to get along with guy, it’s rather astounding that someone could find conflict with him. Or perhaps it is a conflict of a different nature. Bucky doesn’t really know of course, and if he were more curious toward the why, he would have asked. Except Henry saying “he” rather than “she” proves to be far more curious than the other question.

“Wait, ‘he’?” There’s no judgement in the words, only confusion. As far as Bucky has known, his presumption from their interactions was that Henry is straight. Of course, being from a dated time frame, Bucky is also not familiar with the fact that stereotypes from his era are wholly inaccurate and that bisexuality is a thing, so please excuse his unintended rudeness.

“You’re gay?” Obviously implying verbally to Henry that he’d assumed Henry was straight. Maybe because Henry seems outright like a ladies man (I mean, look at him), but regardless of the particulars, there’s a clear disconnect between what Henry’s been saying, what Bucky’s understood, and something about how sexuality and attraction works aside from between a man and a woman since Bucky obviously understands that like the back of his hand.

Maybe that's what it was. The ease of familiarity is not something he comes across so readily, whether it's during leisure or work. So to find himself camping on the back of an ancient aether fish-god or whatever, in a tear-drop shaped tent hanging off of a tree, sharing it with a guy wielding a metal arm is almost bizarre. He didn't expect to go around sharing his personal life with some guy he just recently met.

Also he doesn't even think that Bucky was from a time period way beyond what he thinks he's from, and is left sort of glancing over at him in silence as Bucky asks his questions. Being 'gay' wasn't a non-issue where he was from, he's pretty sure some people still have hang-ups over that, but it wasn't as big of an issue anymore.

"Well, no..." He sort of elongates that 'o', trying to be as tasteful about this conversation as he can. "I had a wife. I'm not keen on categorizing myself, but I fancy either or."

He could be bi, or pan, for all he knows. He'd just never really bothered to explore it beyond what was already available at his fingertips.

The ease with which the truth and Bucky’s honest reactions slip from him should be indicative enough of how mutual the relaxed nature of their interactions has become for the soldier. Sure, they’d had silly conversations before, but hardly things so personal or meaningfully shared.

And it’s not even that Bucky thinks poorly of anyone who’s gay either. He’s certainly known his own share of queer individuals (as it was known to him then; he only knows that gay is preferred now to specify gay men specifically). His experience, however, doesn’t quite inform him to the option of I like what I like, whatever that happens to be, which traps him in an odd mentality of presuming that one can only be straight or gay and not anything else. Secular comprehension of sexuality was quite stunted in his youth, so, once again, please excuse his unintended rudeness.

Since Henry has outright detailed that he’s apparently slept with both, it thankfully bypasses Bucky’s need to ask the particulars of those bits of information. But it still leaves him confused, his dated logic about sexual interest being primitive compared to anyone who was raised in the more modern era.

“You can do that?” This is clearly a new concept for him. Not the or, of course, but the either.

He definitely looks confused. Henry isn't sure how to interpret that, other than this guy's either been living under a rock or is from an alternate version of Earth that hasn't really broken any barriers in terms of sexuality. Maybe it's a combination of reasons. Whatever it is, he gets the feeling he's going to be doing the explaining today.

"Yes," he replies plainly, trying not to sound incredulous (at least he's doing well there). "I haven't gone around proposing to men, mind you."

Sex and whatnot is one thing, but a full-blown relationship and marriage is something he can't really bring himself to think about anymore. It didn't work last time with the woman he felt was his soulmate, so why would it work with someone he didn't feel the same away about?

"Just casual things. I'll kiss a man if I like him enough."

And then some, but he leaves it at that.

Even without the incredulity literally in Henry’s tone, Bucky’s perceptive enough to realize he’s started to make Henry rather startled with his initial reaction, planned or not (definitely not planned). It’s then that he lowers his pen (it had been upright all during, poised to continue drawing despite his focus on the drawing having been lost) and lifts his left hand defensively.

“I. Don’t mean any offense. If. That’s how you...” He could shove more meaningless words here but decides it might be better to just tell it as it is. “Look, I don’t know if you’re from the same world I’m from, but, uh, I grew up in the twenties. So.”

Assuming that means anything to Henry, he can likely fill in the rest of the blanks: archaic comprehension, probably never learned the normally way, etcetera, etcetera. It doesn’t really explain why modern concepts aren’t a mystery to him or why the hell he has a metal arm if he’s from that far “back in the day”, but it at least gives context to Bucky’s immediate confusion.

Which has now been somewhat cleared up now with Henry’s patience. Thanks, pal.

“So, what, you hook up with guys but only marry gals?” It’s a swing in the dark. This is clearly such a new idea to him that he doesn’t really get it yet.

Edited 2018-03-29 22:14 (UTC)

The twenties, huh? That actually surprises Henry enough that he falls silent, trying to recall his lessons in World history from high-school. Regardless, that's not the point. The point is, that was a long-ass time ago, and the fact that Bucky is reacting in a way that's actually not as bad as it could've been is equally shocking.

Of course, all the other mysteries mentioned above apply. He doesn't have the time to go through all the questions in his head about the nuances, but at least he can address the main issue first. All the others can come up later. He shakes his head in response, as if to say it's quite alright, don't even worry about it.

"It's not so cut-and-dry like that, but I suppose that's what it sounds like, doesn't it?" He coughs into his hand, as if to mask any awkwardness but easily composes himself. "I'll hook up with whomever I please, but I just happened to marry a woman. We were both...very young. I thought she was the one."

Sometimes he still feels that way, but he won't voice that here.

Even if Henry could recall enough of what he’d taken in world history—even if Henry had gone to school in the United States and taken US History—he never would have learned that during the roaring twenties, along with many other counter culture developments of the age, the gay scene had sprung up and found a home within New York City.

While it would certainly take a great many years for recognition of its participants to be seen as normal members of society and not queer outliers, their influence on what developed into the signature nightlife that was present through the streets of the city even through the modern day are undeniable. Regardless of never having known any direct parties in his youth, movers and shakers of the great city usually never consorting with common civilians like Bucky, he would be remiss to not recognize the popularity of dance halls in his young adulthood had been developed with chastity and solely with heterosexual clientele in mind.

That all said, old notions of heterosexuality and homosexuality still exist very staunchly in his mind, the concepts not having been challenged in decades and difficult to properly deconstruct to be reconstructed. In Bucky’s case, it doesn’t only sound cut-and-dry but also consists of it, though he recognizes that explaining this would go nowhere and so he chooses not to remark on it directly. To him, the notions of casual sex and marriage are wholly different worlds anyway, so while he tries to give Henry’s viewpoint a proper chance in his head, it only ends up a mess of thought he hasn’t any clue what to do with other than accepting that there are other viewpoints at all.

While Henry continues speaking, he nods, acknowledging that he is listening and trying to process the idea the man puts forth. His companion has been willing to endure his disorientation with the matter for now, but Bucky imagines demanding more of it could be potentially damaging to their present, comfortable friendliness. Rather than press further with his questions and thoughts, he lets the matter fall aside, instead focusing in on the clear fact that despite Henry’s best efforts to mask what manner of man he is, Bucky can read him clearly, a hopeful man who loves and loves deeply even if wronged by one he is meant to trust. Something about that strikes a deep cord with the soldier, and he hums thoughtfully as he returns to detailing the tent on his page.

“I feel like you’ll deny this, but you’re a really noble guy, you know. Ten years is a long time. I...can't even imagine it. Gave up on any notions of real love the moment I realized I probably wasn't coming out of the war alive.” In essence, casual is all he knows and understands these days, the only thing he lets himself have if he lets himself have at all. It’s something he reserves for women, of course, Bucky himself very much straight in his own eyes. The suggestion that it doesn’t matter who or what since it’s casual anyway does end up making sense to him though. There are perverts who do worse than sleep with both sexes; surely there’s nothing objectionable about choosing between humans as long as they’re all consenting adults, right?

Edited 2018-03-30 03:27 (UTC)

Henry certainly would have no frame of reference for the gay scene in the US, and history never was his strong suit anyway. That being said, if he did, he probably would've been much more understanding of his confusion. He doesn't want to cause more confusion than he already is, but that just comes with the territory of one man growing up in alternate universe Earth and the other from 1920's America. It's bound to happen, and all they can really do is just hope they push past it for now.

At least Bucky seems to be understanding, and that's all he can really expect at this point. If he knew what was going on in Bucky's head right now, he'd disagree— a hopeful man, him? Perhaps he was at one point, young and naive, but he thinks he's done with that part of his life now. Like love is just something that happens once and never again; maybe he's too attached to the idea of soulmates and how one person is made for another and nobody else? He never really thought about it after the divorce, pouring his all into his work and into killing so-called assassins in the killing game that he and Sylvia had ushered into their sleepy little city.

He almost does deny it, but after he opens his mouth he closes it again, shaking his head a little to himself. It's a subtle motion, only lasting a second before he's looking over at Bucky.

"The pros of casual intimacy—" he sort of grins at the oxymoron, "—is that love isn't a requirement."

Henry’s reaffirming of the concept earns him a huff, something amused and knowing, as if Bucky had wholly expected the words to come from him even without having known Henry for more than a few months. Strange is one way to describe how the familiarity comes so naturally, but Bucky grins back despite the curiosity of it, knowing better than to question a good thing while it still lasts.

“Got me there,” he replies, looking up to meet Henry’s gaze with a fond expression on his face. “Since you’re so experienced then, riddle me this: why kiss a guy if I can kiss a gal? I mean, what's so great about having both choices if gals are great enough already?”

Painfully straight is a phrase.

Edited 2018-03-30 06:16 (UTC)

It's a sound question, one that he probably can't answer with anything beyond personal preference. It's not something he can describe to someone properly in words; the best way to parse it is when kissing a man, for him, it's much more aggressive and great for relieving immediate stress. Kissing a woman felt more intimate and soft, regardless of the aggression level.

"I could give you a sub-par answer in words, but it really just comes down to your preference or what you want to get out of it."

He shrugs, sort of looking Bucky over and gauging his body language. Is he closed off to the idea of a demonstration or experimenting? The way he words his inquiry has him thinking it could really go either way. The reasons for kissing someone isn't something he normally differentiates between genders, but he can at least admit that they have profoundly different effects on him.

Bucky’s gaze shifts away as he thinks on the words. He hasn’t really thought about what exactly he wants to get out of making out before, with a dame or otherwise. Actually, he’s not really thought about it much at all, just let what came naturally happen. Questioning it seemed pointless when there’d never been any reason to doubt. Saying that kissing anyone is because it feels good is redundant: practically everything intimate in that way is done because it feels good. So...

“A mutually fun time, at the least.” That’s definitely important to him, knowing the other person is enjoying it too. “Can’t really have a preference if I’ve never kissed a guy before though.”

At least in his mind, this makes sense; he’s always been the sort to try anything at least once before deciding if it’s really for him or not, though the idea of kissing fellas has never really occurred to him before. In terms of sexuality, he’s only ever really considered the fact that he thinks breasts are great, and he’d thought that alone settled the issue. Apparently it doesn’t, especially as that does nothing to counter why he shouldn’t want to kiss a guy anyway. It’s not like kissing skill is skewed by gender, so...

Geezus, his head is starting to hurt from all this.

He's got a point, but that just means all the more reason to create one, right? Hell, his statement alone was already encouraging enough, or at least shows Henry he's not opposed to trying it. What he doesn't realize is how much Bucky is thinking about something to the point that it's hurting his head, but well... he'll make him stop thinking soon enough.

"Suppose you're right about that. You want to find out, then?"

It's like asking for the time, or discussing the weather with how casually he asks. Their already close proximity makes it easier to close the gap, but he's simply tilting his head lazily in his direction.

The offer comes as a surprise. Even as casually as they’ve conversed, even as naturally as the words had come out of Henry’s mouth, fancy accent and all, Bucky’s lived in a world where the thought of being wanted by anyone is basically nonexistent, all flattery and compliments just sugary words to win his trust. He looks at Henry briefly with his brows raised, wondering if the suggestion will be retracted as a joke. When it isn’t, and he realizes the offer is genuine, his brows furrow in concern.

Not that Henry would likely be aware, but Bucky isn’t exactly unaccustomed to the notion of fooling around with friends. He’d done plenty of it when he was younger, less neurotic, but those situations had also been quite different, the options of friends far and wide even if one of his relationships went south because things hadn’t gone quite right. Here, with COST, it proves a different gamble.

“We’d still be friends if I don’t like it, right?” He doesn’t want to offend Henry or put him off; he’s damn swell in Bucky’s eyes. But even as generous as the proposal comes, especially with the mellow back and forth they’ve had for the last while in mind, the last thing Bucky wants to do is complicate things between them.

Henry can see the expressions flit across his tent mate's face, as if trying to suss out whether the offer was a serious offer or not. He's tempted to express his own sincerity or incredulity, whatever works at the time, but he keeps the look on his very neutral. He doesn't want to influence Bucky's decision whatsoever, but just give him the option should he want to try.

He doesn't like to assume that what he considers normal is normal to others, but it's not wrong to assume that Henry isn't aware. Just from the new bits of information alone, his presumption is that people were a little more conservative back then.

"Of course."

He takes the question as a reply. It insinuates that he's going for it, so he leans in and closes the gap with practiced precision. Eyes closed, and head tilted just right to press his lips against Bucky's, he keeps his hands to himself for now and holds it for a respectable amount of time.

While reserved behavior had certainly been standard of the time, it never meant society was without variation. Ultimately, teenaged years went about the same even in those days, not that it’d be commonly seen in textbooks, but why would anyone report on such matters in cultural history anyway? Should anyone wish to, they likely would have been deemed a pervert of some nature, especially because of the social conservative secularism of the era.

Bucky’s answer had certainly been a reply of sorts, especially in the literal sense as it was obvious affirmation that he didn’t mind the idea. It hadn’t exactly been intended as a go, however.

Tensing in surprise when Henry leans in, Bucky relaxes once he realizes what Henry is actually doing, though the suddenness of it still leaves him rather shocked and despite the respectful lingering contact, Bucky doesn’t respond in kind through the gesture, his own eyes a wide in astonishment.

When Henry withdraws, he huffs, “I wasn’t ready yet,” a slight furrow set in his brow and mild indignance in his tone.

The reply does have him realizing that maybe he jumped the gun there a little, whoops. Still, he doesn't react with any embarrassment or any remorse as a matter of fact, simply sitting back and nodding.

"Sorry about that."

There's a sort of expectancy in his pose, leaning on one arm, letting the drawing pad sort of hang out in his lap entirely forgotten. Sorry Bucky, he's assuming (again) that you're OK with another attempt. At least this time, he'll be sure.

"Let me know when you're ready."

The pose is rather patronizing, even if perfectly normal as a reaction (well, normal because it’s them and probably not normal for most other people), so Bucky huffs (again), shaking his head slightly to get the grumpiness out before setting aside his drawing paper and pen.

“If I’m gonna do it at all, I wanna do it right,” he explains before smoothly leaning in, tilting his head the same way as Henry had before and reaching out with his right hand to catch Henry’s the curve of Henry’s neck with his fingers, thumb comfortably settled against his jaw. His eyes are closed this time when their lips meet, Bucky’s attempt less chaste than Henry’s but still maintaining a respectful weight and not demanding more than necessary.

He watches Bucky curiously as he sets his stuff aside, eyes flitting from the paper to Bucky's face as if not sure what to expect. Like he didn't expect him to just go all in like that. Of course, he's pleasantly surprised because while chaste is nice and all, the 'proper' way to do it appeals to him the most. Never really one to half-ass anything unless he's forced to, this is ideal.

So as he watches Bucky lean in this time, his eyelids lower a little in anticipation and eases into the touch by tilting his head in to match. This feels good, and he's glad to see that Bucky is not a bad kisser in the least. Wanting to see how much he can get away with, he parts his lips ever so slightly to draw the kiss in a little deeper. He doesn't use any effort on his part, just naturally letting the weight that Bucky puts forth to do so.

The first thing he really notices is that kissing Henry isn’t much like how kissing any other gal has been. He’s not soft or sweet; he's firmer and more appraising, even a bit challenging. Not demanding or rough in the least, but there’s a force behind Henry’s movements that Bucky’s never really felt when kissing women. It’s different in a way Bucky isn’t sure what to make of it yet. While it definitely isn’t what he’d expected, especially as his mind had mostly projected his experiences with women, something about the quiet demand in the way Henry’s lips meet his own makes the action feel more satisfying.

When the other man moves to deepen the kiss, Bucky reacts instinctively, matching the motion and catching Henry’s lips again. Not that he’s become a mind reader and knows Henry’s thoughts, but when Bucky said he wanted to do it right, he wasn’t bluffing. For a risk taker like him, half-assing anything invites failure, and he’s not in the habit of doing anything without going all in if he decides to do it.

Henry had also started off with the 'but I'm straight?' mentality long ago, and had discovered that kissing men while an action similar to kissing any woman had a different tonal quality to it. The feeling was addictive in a no strings attached way, as most other men he'd 'hooked up' with were similar— then again, he purposely played the role of a sexually interested party in his jobs for men that fit the profile and were integral to the process. He rarely went around wooing people (men or women alike) for the hell of it. He was a married man, dammit!

Keyword: Was.

But oh. This is a good reaction, he thinks. It immediately encourages him to match the effort, so he brings a hand up to rest on the back of the one resting on his neck and jawline. It grips gently as he continues to kiss him, putting more weight into it and parting his lips a little more with each kiss, the soft slick noises overlapping their breathing. He even glides the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, brushing against Bucky's for just a flicker of a moment.

In all his years, Bucky’s never known anyone to actually match his ardor, guide alongside and share the effort needed to continue and deepen. Even when exploring, he’d often carried the bulk of the burden, which he had never minded doing (it was expected anyway, chivalry and all), but that he doesn’t need to do so here and now is starkly new and stimulating by contrast.

He sighs between kisses and short breaths, tension in his shoulders draining away, and his left hand carefully finds Henry’s side, sliding around and cupping his back rather than grasping on as Bucky is well aware of needing to be careful with the metal limb whenever using it with anything that isn’t stiff like the metal of his knife.

Feeling Henry’s tongue brush against him, he feels a tad more daring. Eyes peeking open, he parts his lips further, tongue dipping out to trace along the gap of Henry’s lips. The invitation for Henry to continue on is clear.

As he feels the tension start to melt away, Henry lets his hands wander a little bit. It's easier to relax into the kissing now, though it's not to say he was so tense or stressed to begin with but... well, there's always a little apprehension in the beginning.

Then there's the metal hand and it's not as hard or rough as he imagined it to be, though he contributes that to just Bucky being gentle. It feels weirdly good though, and he scoots in a little closer so that he can put both his hands on the guy. He takes both the touch to his side and the taste of his tongue as an invitation to just continue on like this wasn't some sort of experiment. They're way beyond that now.

With a soft, low sound inside his mouth he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss and slides his fingers forward to comb through his hair by his neck to keep him close while the other rests atop his thigh and grips the material of his pants. Not that he thinks Bucky needs the encouragement, but still, it feels good this way. He dips his tongue in a little more here and there to taste, thoroughly enjoying the rubbing of their ruddy lips. Each shift of their bodies makes the tent squeak a little protest, and he's all but forgotten about the weird deer outside.

The lack of hesitance and the way Henry draws even closer evokes a long, pleased sigh through Bucky’s nose. He’d never anticipated how naturally they could flow from indulging a curiosity to simply taking the delightful thrill that permeates the moment they’re in right now, but it stirs Bucky’s appreciation for having a friend like Henry all the more.

There are very few who do not judge Bucky’s every action, even as a stranger to the others within COST, and there are lesser still those who are willing to give back as evenly as Bucky dishes out himself. Maybe he should have taken the fact Henry had easily joined him in conversing about the idiotic supposition of what life would be like if everyone had wheels for feet as a sign, but Henry’s lack of apprehension now is the confirmation.

It’s as they continue kissing, quiet, wet smacks and chirps of suction filling the air around them, that Bucky gradually realizes why exactly their actions seem to satiate an unknown need within him. While he’s had his share of meaningless kisses with strangers since being freed from Hydra’s grasp (never taking it too far; he can’t risk anything more than a makeout or two with someone he’ll never see again), none of those had brought with it an informed desire. Henry knows what kind of man he is, what he’s capable of, and still wants to kiss someone like him. This is no longer the test it had started as but genuine interaction, and Henry has not only drawn closer but reached for him, grasped on without pity.

Someone knows the monster and honestly still wants him.

The realization is so jarring that he doesn’t even really have the capacity to wonder why he’s still sitting here making out with a guy.

The thing about all this though, is that Henry doesn't realize just how much of an impact this is having on the guy. He doesn't know much about Bucky beyond what he's let on during casual conversation and a little bit just now regarding sexuality. It's the tip of the iceberg, barely a scrape, and he has no clue what this might lead to. Hell, he didn't even think about it because that's just how Henry is: acts without thinking, and inevitably hurts someone without a care. Or at least without realizing.

That being said, he doesn't read too far into the kiss. He just enjoys the moment of it all, the warmth and the addicting sense of euphoria that washes over him. It's nothing new, at least in terms of sensations and emotions, but like any addictive sensation or activity he finds himself seeking it out from time to time when it's allowed.

He's not sure how long they've been going at it like this, but it's getting to the point where his hands wander a little more just simply out of habit. His thumb kneads towards Bucky's inner thigh, just massaging it there for a moment as he holds the kiss for a brief moment before pulling back ever so slightly.

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lefthandfree - 2018-04-01 07:13 (UTC) - Expand

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handsomefoil - 2018-04-01 09:40 (UTC) - Expand

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