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↞If you're gonna start a fight

[crowkiller]

[He's hands are shaking. He could feel it as he held onto his blade a bit tighter. Zevran was sitting high up in the trees overlooking the small dirt road. If his information was right (and most of the time it was), his target should be arriving soon. The legendary assassin, the Winter Soldier, the ghost story that even the master Crows were afraid of. This was his target. The other Crows thought he was insane for taking this job, Taliesin called it death sentence; they were all right.

After what Taliesin did, the Crows did, what he did...He couldn't forgive himself. He knew that life as a Crow wasn't the best, but he at least thought that they cared-- if only about the safety of their tool. Oh, how wrong he was though. The only way to escape the guild was by death, and he prayed to whatever god would listen to him that the soldier would give him that.

He didn't tell anyone his true reasoning for taking this job. For all they knew he was just an overly ambitious blade who was too dull to know when he was outmatched. A shaky breath left him as he pushes the mask of his armor onto his face and waits in the quiet.]

[readytocomply]

[Bucky didn't do that anymore. The Winter Soldier was a ghost that still haunted him, had a tight grip on his mind and on the opinions of everyone that knew who he was, but he didn't want to be that person. He just wanted left alone, to find some peace, to find a place to hole up in until he'd have to move on again. Somewhere he could catch his breath. He'd left Steve and T'Challa after getting his arm fixed. It didn't feel quite right and he knew Steve hadn't wanted him to go, but he wasn't safe, he had to.

He's attentive, even if he doesn't look it, has his cap pulled down over his eyes, backpack clipped on, hands in his pockets. To most, he was just some guy walking down a dirt road, off to the side nearer the trees. Nobody important. Not a threat. And that's how he wanted it to be.

Then he feels it, that tingle of intuition that says there are eyes on him. Instinct wars with exhaustion and the latter wins out. He pauses, shoulders tense and tipped forward, voice loud enough to be heard.]

Do whatever you're gonna do or leave.

[crowkiller]

[Zevran's heart skips several beats when he hears that voice call him out. How did he know? He made sure to be out of the line of sight, and he was barely even breathing! He was truly as good as the stories told. This would be a quick fight.

His eyes narrow as he places on his cocky facade. Can't have the other man knowing his true intentions after all. He falls gracefully from the trees and lands on the tip of his toes. His arms extend to pull out the curved blades at his belt and he smirks.]

The Crows send their regards, soldier.

[He didn't give any other words before he lunges forward towards Bucky and then leaps into the air to bring his blades down for an attack.]

[readytocomply]

[Kill him. Try to kill him. Whatever it was, he was too tired for all the lurking and waiting and anticipation that led up to the fight. He wanted to know what they wanted so he could decide what he was going to do.

Bucky turns to face the man, a brow raised as he falls from the trees, landing with a grace he'd appreciate if there wasn't metal being flashed in his direction.]

Who're the cr-

[Not given the chance to ask anything else or to explain that he didn't want any trouble, Bucky dodges the blades, striking out hard and fast. He aims for the man's side, his stomach, then twists his body around and takes off running.]

[crowkiller]

[The blows hit their mark. If Zevran had been trying a bit harder he could have dodged at least one of them. The blow to his stomach was enough to knock the wind out of him for a moment, but that just meant Bucky has a small head start in the chase. He is disappointed though, he thought for sure that blow would have broken something.

Zevran growls through his teeth as he rolls his shoulders back and fights through the breathlessness to go after Bucky. He didn't understand why the soldier was running. Didn't he want to fight? It didn't matter though, he wasn't going to let his target escape-- at least not while he was still alive. Maybe he needs to be a bit more threatening. He presses himself to run faster but still the soldier was ahead of him. He pulls a few smaller daggers from his belt and after a moment of quickly aiming throws them towards the back of his legs.]

🎂 So two assassins think they can bake...

[crowkiller]

[Weeks had gone by since their first encounter. Bucky had seen through his charade, and while Zevran hadn't told him exactly why he felt to do the things he did, the soldier understood and forgave him. How odd, Zevran keeps thinking even after all this time. Bucky had not only spared his life, but also accepted his offer of servitude. Not that Zevran was really a servant. He knew he had no other place to go now that the Crows were hunting them both. He had offered his services and pledged himself to Bucky, to take care of any blood shed that might need to be done or whatever else he needs of him. He didn't mind getting his hands dirty. The more he thought of it, the more blood he kept from Bucky's hands, the better he started to feel about himself.

They were staying in some little cabin in the woods. It is one of Zevran's old Crow Safe houses. Back when he and Rinna thought they could run away together. It is as off the grid as they could get, and Zevran knew Bucky likes it that way. It is harder for people to track them. He stands in front of the sink, leaning against the island counter that was behind him. His eyes were staring out the window above it at the sun as it sets down past the trees. His crow armor was long gone, but he kept the mask because he thinks it's more intimating to others. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a black deep v neck shirt and a pair of tight fitting jeans. A small paring knife spins lazily in his hand, around his thumb and across his knuckles. He always thinks better when he's doing something, he dislikes being idle in anyway.

It didn't take long for him to figure out what he wants. He smacks the knife into the wood of the counter. The blade sinks in and holds with a dull 'thud'. He makes his way to the refrigerator, in search of something sweet. He could have sworn there was cake in here...]

Bucky! [He calls out as he leans out of the refrigerator door.] Did you eat the cake?

[That was a whole cake, bro.]

...instead one just eats it all

[readytocomply]

[Bucky understood the weight of guilt. What it felt like to want to end it all, to just give up, even if the desire to live always won out in the end for himself. He'd offered Zevran a place with him. It wasn't much, but it was all Bucky had to give anyone else. He'd told him it wouldn't be easy, that they'd always be on the run, ducking from one place to another without ever truly settling in. It'd be dangerous, Bucky was a wanted man, and then he'd tried to explain everything.

HYDRA, the Winter Soldier, James Buchanan Barnes. Not in as much detail as he should have, but the basics were all he could manage right then. He wasn't going to hurt Zevran, but he deserved to know what he was getting into.

Now they were in a little cabin, a safe house, and they can stay a while. There's nothing to do but just be and it's the most relaxed he's been in a long time. He's in the bedroom, hair tied up in a loose bun, cleaning for the sake of having something to do. He freezes when Zevran calls his name, guilt flashing across his face. He sidles out of the bedroom, sheepishly rubbing his hand across the back of his neck.]

I was hungry. [The 'I have a sweet tooth' goes left unsaid.] We can make another one.

[Hopefully. They had the ingredients for it, but the one he'd eaten had been made by baker as they picked up all the supplies they'd need for a while.]

bucky do we have to learn sharing

[crowkiller]

[Zevran doesn't mind the travel. It would be easier to cover each others backs, and Bucky would surely need the extra eyes now that both HYDRA and the Crows were after him. He was glad that Bucky shared with him what he did. It was enough to work with and get to know the man, Zevran had shared with him the same; how he grew up, who were the Crows, but not the true reason he left. That was another story for another day.

A heavy sigh causes Zevran's lips to flap in answer. Well, he couldn't be too upset. The other man is built like a brick house, of course he needs a whole cake to himself. Still, he does send a half hearted glare in his direction as he shuts the fridge door. The guilt look and the sheepish expression were all it took for Zevran to forgive him. He really is easy when it came to those blessed with good looks.]

Lucky you are cute. [He says as he leans against the counter top behind him and crosses his arms. He stares at the floor, trying to think of a different way he can satisfy his own sweet tooth when Bucky suggests making a cake. His eyebrows raise as his eyes widen. Make one? Zevran knew how an oven worked in theory, but even then it was hazy. He looks back to Bucky with the bewilder look.]

Make one? Do you know how?

[Because he has no idea.]

[readytocomply]

[Bucky could have enforced some strong self-control, but it had looked good and his fast metabolism plus weakness for sweets had negated any bit of will he'd had left. He does look a little guilty, worrying the inside of his lip until Zevran says he's cute, the worried frown slowly curving into a soft smile.]

Figure I should be trying to flatter you, considering I ate the whole damned thing by myself.

[He crosses the room, pulling his phone from his pocket and handing it to Zevran.]

I don't, but we can handle it.

[Maybe. Look, all he's saying is that if they find a recipe and make sure they have everything, they can at least try.]

Search for something that looks good.

I get filthy when that liquor get into me 🍸

[crowkiller]

[When was the last time he got drunk? Like actually mind numbing, filter clogging, body loose drunk? A while. It must have been back when he was still with the Crows, with Rinna. He wasn't thinking about her though, he isn't drinking out of sadness, pain, or anything like that. He's drinking because he's comfortable, because for the first time in weeks he and Bucky are safe and he knows that they are safe.

He had to kill a few spies to get them to this point, but he didn't mind. Bucky kept his hands clean of it. He stares at the half empty bottle of brandy in his hands. He's had so much of it already. He wonders if another mouthful will hurt. He only thinks about it for a moment before he takes a swing. It burns all the way down and he leans further onto the old bed. His eyes are glassy and out of focus as he peers around the room of the old motel. It was kind of shitty, but it had it's charms (and the fact that they were still advising cable tv on the sign made him chuckle.) It is quiet and also in the middle of no where. Zevran could look out the window and see nothing but darkness for miles and stars in the sky.

He groans out loud as he sinks into the bed. He pulls at the collar of his henley (it's actually Bucky's) before he turns over onto his side. His eyes stare out into space, not really focusing on anything until they fall on Bucky. He stares, his eyes give a slow blink after a few second as a smile comes to his face. His eyes lighten and his expression softens the longer he stares. The words he can not bring himself to say sober, come out loud and clear in his stare.]

Hey. [He brings a hand up, angled towards Bucky and makes a motion for him to come to him.]

[readytocomply]

[Bucky can't remember the last time he's been around anyone when they're so drunk. Certainly never Zevran, not himself either, but that doesn't mean he hasn't forgotten how to be with someone that intoxicated. Water, put them in bed, don't let them do anything that they'll regret the next day, if he can.

The old motel is no better or worse than any the others they've stayed in, but it's never bothered him much anyways. He can't recall a single time in his life where he's every lived somewhere for a long period that anyone would deem to be 'luxurious' or even ritzy. Sometimes he wishes for better things for Zevran, but that's natural, how a person feels when they think of the person that they're in love with. Bucky's in it for the long haul, was the moment he admitted he had feelings. He might not have gone into detail, but he'd put his feelings out there and they hadn't been returned. He was happy having only this. Them together, as lovers, and he'd meant that.

He tugs his shirt up and over his head, undressing until he's in his boxers only, hair pulled up in a loose bun. He glances up when he's gestured for, raising an eyebrow as he crosses the room.]

Better be getting ready for bed, Zev.

[His tone suggests that there won't be any funny business. Bucky pushes the blanket down, sitting.]

You'll feel better if you do.

[crowkiller]

[Zevran reaches for him, and when he comes closer his hand takes Bucky's and just holds it for a moment. He grins as he tilts his face towards the pillow and looks up at Bucky with half lidded eyes.]

I am ready.

[Okay, maybe not fully ready. He still had pants on, but he wasn't taking this shirt off. It smells too much like Bucky, a smell that Zevran has come to love just as much as the smell of leather, if not more. After a moment he starts to move again and he sits up, leaning against Bucky. His face now buried in Bucky's shoulder and neck.]

Why can't you get drunk? We could make so many gloriously bad decisions together.

[readytocomply]

[Bucky tuts softly, moving closer. He'll just have to get Zevran ready himself.]

It's so I can keep an eye on you when you do.

[It'd be nice, he thinks, to be able to do this with Zevran, but it's nothing he can change and it's minor on the list of things he'd want to be different. Bucky twists around slowly, nudging Zevran's shoulders until he's flat on his back. He straddles his thighs, undoing his pants and tugging them down, hopping off the bed to hang them across a chair. He's affectionate, gentle, but methodical, trying to show Zevran that he means business.]

Get under the covers.

[He comes back to the bed, slipping in beside him.]

❧ i only ever feel anything when i'm with you

[readytocomply]

[There were times, in crystal clear lucidity and very rarely, that the soldier would remember something about himself. The way the city he can't recall the name of sounds like on a Tuesday evening. The sweet scent of a pie baking, and the even sweeter smile of the woman who'd made it. He never had time to piece it all together before he was back in the chair, back under the ice, but when he did remember, he never felt anything.

It didn't bother him until it did, and he knows that the fault lies with Zevran.

He'd blame himself, he should, but he's not the one that sunk himself so deep into the soldier's mind that he forgets sometimes that he's the solider. He's Bucky, he wants to say, or James, anybody but the nameless ghost that has become his whole life. It's always during the tale end of a mission, when he's physically worn, and fragments are breaking free. He remembers the first time he met him. He was small and deserved so much better than the life that Bucky could see blotted out in front of him in the shape of blood and tears. Training and pain, and he'd tried to take him away and hide him before he'd even realized he was doing it. They'd found them, made Bucky the soldier again and made him forget that small boy.

But every tale end of a mission they work together, Bucky comes back just a little and he remembers each time before. It's a time like that now. They're both dirty, waiting for extraction on the outskirts of a small Ukrainian town, worn, and he can feel desperation clawing its way up his throat.]

Come here.

[His voice is pitched low, soft.]

[crowkiller]

[This life has not been an easy one, but it might have been better than the one he had on the streets. He kept himself thinking that when things got tough.

At least I have food. He thinks when the training gets so hard he wants to collapse. At least I have a roof over my head, runs through his mind when the guards get rough. At least I'm not alone, is what keeps him going on the hardest nights.

The soldier had been his teacher since he arrived here. He wasn't known as Bucky or James until later, when they started to talk outside of knife fights. It's hard though when the only person you really care about doesn't remember your name or face most of the time, on top of him being frozen for months or even years at a time. It had been one of those moments, where they hadn't seen each other in years. It's obvious when Bucky can only recall him as a young boy and yet a man now stood in his place.

He sighs heavily, pulling his bangs that escaped his pony tail out of his face as he waits near Bucky. He's so tired, but at least they had some time to kill now. When Bucky calls him over he smiles and instantly moves.]

Need something? [He speaks with a smirk on his face.]

[readytocomply]

[You. But that's not something Bucky is capable of saying. He wants to say he's sorry for things that he had no control over and that he's sorry that the next hour is all they'll have before Bucky's the soldier again. That he'll forget him and it'll hurt more the next time Bucky's lucid.

He doesn't say any of those things. He can't.]

Yes.

[Bucky reaches out, snagging Zevran's wrist and tugging him forward, only to push him back towards the wall.]

We have one hour. We're not going to waste it.

[He allows the smallest hint of that desperation to show on his face, unsmiling lips pressed tight into a hard line, fingers working open Zevran's clothes methodically.]

[crowkiller]

I'm all ears.

[He speaks softly to match the others tone. That smirk just turns into grin when he feels Bucky's hand around his wrist and the pull has him against the other man in moments. His eyes travel down Bucky's figure, following his hands and fingers as they unhook his body armor.]

Oh, so that's what you want.

[He chuckles before his body leans into his and lips caress softly against his unsmiling ones. Zevran's hands start to unclasp Bucky's vest. He yearns to touch his old mentor's skin. He had lied awake at night since he was a teen, imagining how it would feel if it was Bucky's hand that replaced his own around his cock. His skin tingles now that he might get the chance to have that happen.]

I didn't know I interested you in that way.

If I could be with you one hour tonight 🎵

[crowkiller]

[Being the new guy in town is never an easy thing. Zevran is use to that though. He doesn't really have a home in Brooklyn, or even in the state of New York. He travels, going wherever the tracks and the jobs will take him. Both have taken him to the docks of New York, and he's rather glad for that. He isn't glad for the money though, even if it's good, nor the fact that he seems to be quite popular with the ladies of the town, even if that is good too. No, he is happy for another reason. He's gotten the attention of the local heart throb.

Now. he isn't getting all giddy and heart a flutter, but there is just something about this man that makes him want him. He craves his attention, his touch, and most of all those lips on his. He can't out right ask for that though, neither of them can. They have to be careful or else the only place they would be is in the back of an alley bleeding to death.

Things are easier when they are alone, when it's just them. It's rarely just them though, there is always someone hanging around Bucky. Not that Zevran minds his friend Steve or the girls he dates, he just wants Bucky to himself from time to time. He's lucky they have that window right now.

The city is dark under the new moon. The lights of the city are fading as many go to bed, but there are still loud drunken laughter in the streets. Zevran watches a pair stumble down the street from Bucky's apartment balcony. His cigarette burns low between his fingers. He leans back and takes a long drag before he blows a couple of rings of smoke above his head, the rest escape through his nose in a long exhale. He gives a lazy smile as he tilts his head back to look into the apartment.]

Coming out?

[readytocomply]

[The thing about meeting Zevran was that Bucky instantly knew he wanted him, and that he couldn't just have him. It wasn't that easy and it only made him want it more. Bucky had to be careful, for both their sake's. He didn't change his routine, just helped Zev become a part of it. He'd go on dates and he'd have Steve around and they were never really alone. They got to spend time together, but never one on one and never in a way that would make either of them happy.

There was one place they'd be safe, but Bucky didn't really feel like explaining things to Steve, not when it was all so new and just for him and Zevran. And they had to make it appear casual. Zevran just so happened to end up alone in Bucky's apartment on a night when Steve was staying over at his mom's to help her out and Bucky's date had fallen through last minute.]

No.

[Bucky balances his elbows on the window sill, on his knees so he's right in the middle looking out. He can't see anything but the sky from here and it's a kind of privacy they won't get anywhere else. He's still cautious, doesn't know how not to be.]

I'm fine right here. [He tips his head to the side, a soft smirk curving his mouth up on one side.] Why don't you meet me halfway?

[crowkiller]

[Zevran chuckles when he hears that answer. Even from this angle, he is a handsome devil. His warm honey colored eyes stares longingly at the other man before he scoots himself back against the metal grating of the fire escape. He sits with his back now against the brick of the building, right next to the window that Bucky leans out of. He takes one last drag from his cigarette. The smoke waffs behind him as it comes from his nose and he grins. He flicks the butt between the railing and it bursts into hot embers on the street below.

His lips form a smile as he turns his head back to the sky. He can't see many stars, but his mind isn't on the scene before him. He's thinking about the man to his side. They're only had a few fleeting moments together before something or someone comes up and pulls them away. Zevran wants to make sure that they take this moment and use it to it's fullest potential. His head turns as his body leans towards the window, but he stops just a few inches from Bucky's face. His eyes linger on those plush lips before they flicker up to his baby blues. His grins turns into a teasing smirk.]

Is this halfway?

[readytocomply]

[Bucky's eyes never leave Zevran's lean frame. He tracks each movement, the soft sway of his hips, the expression on his face. They might not get another moment like this and Bucky's going to make sure they soak up every bit of it to the fullest extent.]

Still got another inch to go.

[Half his and half Bucky's.

He leans all his weight on one elbow and presses up on his knees to cross that last half an inch. Bucky reaches out and hooks a finger into the fabric of Zevran's shirt, tugging him his last half until their mouths meet. Zevran tastes smokey and warm and sweet and Bucky's lips part in surprise at how good it feels.]

Oh.

[Need washes over him and he moans softly into Zevran's mouth, sucking roughly on his lower lip. He might not know how to say all the things he wants to say, but he can show the other man in the way he kisses him.]

I found a savior, I don't think he remembers

[crowkiller]

[He could still feel the cold of the mountain air on his skin. He sat in that same spot, waiting like he said he would. He had snowed on the last night he waited. He remembered that the tips of his fingers were cold and unfeeling, much like the heart in his chest when he realised Bucky wasn't coming. The cold and numbness turned to a tight, uncomfortable feeling. He left that spot, and the country alone. Each step he took his heart broken a little more.

That was weeks ago. The moment he smuggled himself onto a plane heading to America, he had been thinking. He knew he had to free Bucky. It took time to plan. He needed weapons, supplies, and a safe house for them. He managed to get all those things rather easily thanks to some crazy conspiracy theorists. Who would have thought that HYDRA wasn't as sly as they thought they were. Zevran had time to think up his plan, and it was near perfect. The poor souls had no chance against him. It's been some time since the raid on Hydra. His boots were still damp with their blood. He left no one alive, which wasn't saying much because there weren't as many as he thought there would be. Most of HYDRA left the base to go to DC, something important happened there. He saw on the news that Captain America stopped their plan, and that's where Bucky was.

He found him wandering near the Potomac. That dazed, lost look on his face. He didn't run when Zevran called to him, nor did he run when Zevran came. He knew Bucky was in no shape to have physical affection, even if he wanted nothing more than to kiss him as soon as he saw him. He was good. Zevran carried him back to the safe house, took care of him, and didn't push even when he wanted so much.

Zevran is getting ready now, for when Bucky is lucid and able to move on his own. He's planning again for their escape, only this time it's the entire government after them. They have time though, the HYDRA files are difficult to decode. They had a few months at the least, and they would be long gone by then. Zevran is sitting at a table in the kitchen. The black-out curtains are drawn so no light other than the artificial one above is in the room. There is a map in front of him of Romania and the routes to get to it.

He has an apple in his hand and tosses it lightly into the air as he sighs and leans back. His eyes leave the map and look over to the body in the room in front of him. He isn't sure yet if Bucky is completely back. It takes anywhere from days to weeks. His expression softens and his eyes close, thinking back to their last kiss. Bucky can take all the times he wants, as long as he comes back to him.]

[readytocomply]

[Bucky had led HYDRA away from Zevran - through the woods, further.

He made it convincing, made the chase last so they'd focus on him long enough for Zevran to get away. It worked, at least he'd heard it had. As they strapped him to the chair, he heard their voices. They couldn't find him. Bucky knew that they never would. It didn't make the ache go away but it made it bearable, the pain a little less when the shock came and stole his mind.

The soldier had a mission. He'd almost succeeded when his mission had spoke a particular phrase, had reminded him of an easier time, a better time. He'd failed to do what he was ordered when he'd pulled Steve Rogers from the water and left him on the bank of the Potomac.

He was dazed. Flashes of himself from the forties led to flashes of memory of blond hair and tan skin - the sun. He'd followed the bank of the river until that memory became reality, calling to him, coming close, but not touching. Darkness had enveloped him and he woke in a safe house. Lucidity was brief, that time when he knew something other than the cold started to lengthen, but he still didn't talk. If he opened his mouth, whose voice would he hear?

He's curled up on his side, and he can feel eyes on him. He remembers Zevran. The child he couldn't save and the man whose touch had thawed the soldier out, brought Bucky back for a couple hours. He owed him. That was much was clear. He wanted to touch him, to let him hold Bucky until he slept - he was tired, so tired - he didn't know how to ask. Didn't think he really should. The bed gives as he shifts, rolls, balances on the edge with his head in his hands. His body language is tense, locked up and closed off, but if Zevran came close, put his hands on him, he wouldn't push him away.

He wants to ask but the words won't come out. He can't get his mouth to open.]

[crowkiller]

[The creaking of the bed draws him away from his thoughts. His eyes open and he shifts in his chair, relaxing his leg and making it go back down onto all four of its legs. He saw the movement and waits for more. He knows it's Bucky, he isn't worried it might be someone breaking it. He doesn't hear a voice though, and it worries him more than it should.

He knows from experience that Bucky could takes weeks to get back to his normal self. During that time he normally doesn't speak much if any. Zevran knows this is all normal but still he is impatient and worried, just like he always is. He shifts again, getting to his feet and leaving the chair. He makes noise, the legs scrap the floor and his footsteps are heavier than they normally are. He doesn't want to surprise Bucky.]

Bucky? [He pauses only for a moment as he crawls onto the bed behind him. His hand reaches out, and gently touches his back.] Mi leon?

[Please, talk to me. He wants to say, but he doesn't. The last thing he wants is to push.] What do you need?

[readytocomply]

[He doesn't startle as easily as he might have once. Sounds are sharper, clearer, but Zevran makes it obvious that he's moving closer and it's a thoughtful, sweet sort of gesture that leaves him a little breathless. Obviously, even though his mind is swirling, this man cares enough to be show that he's conscience of him at all times.

That name - his name. The hand on his back and Mi leon.]

Nothing.

[Which isn't true. He needs his sun, that light to make him warm again. Bucky's hand snakes up and curls around Zevran's hand, gripping tight. He moves then, a slow and stiff roll to fall back down to the bed on his side, pulling Zevran with him. When it's clear that Zevran gets that he wants him to lay with him, he releases his hand and curls up on his side.]

You.