Who Am I? » [Stucky]

166. Once More Unto the Breach

Moscow, Russia

They communally dropped in by air, all spiralling down the convection currents like a flock of birds, their night-gear black parachutes fluttering above. One by one, running feet smooched the roof of the skyscraper and the member of the team dismantled their harness and disregarded the bulky bundle of parachute trailing along behind them like a tail. Each walked on and congregated at the other end of the stretch of tarmac, clearing the runway for the rest of them.

“Amazing view huh, Buck?” Steve cooed with awe like a curious child, taking a stance at the ledge and observing the sky scraping city with young and uneducated eyes.

The city was blinking with all the colours of the rainbow, the stench of diesel, car fumes and oil filled the air and pleasantly tingled their nostrils, mingling with the cold night air. The wind ruffled their hair and battered their bodies as it raged at the height.

Slowly their team were pooling on the rooftop, collecting like droplets of water into a puddle, floating down from the Quinjet that had sailed overhead.

“Damn right. God bless America,” purred the voice from behind him, hinted with the tone of a smirk. Steve didn’t have to look to know what lustful and swooning expression masked his partner’s face.

Steve couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his lips and tweaked up the corners of his mouth involuntarily. He gave a saddened but amused sigh. “We can see the whole of Moscow from here and you’re looking at my ass?” Steve saddled his hands on his belt buckle and shook his head, condemning Bucky’s words and ignorance of the view.

“In all fairness you haven’t seen your ass,” Bucky chuckled deeply and slapped Steve’s rear playfully as he levelled with him and unsheathed himself from the shackles of the parachuting harness: carabiners clinking and buckles rattling as he sent the wires and straps to the ground.

“You have no respect sometimes, you know that?” Steve rebuked.

“Try sayin’ that without a smile and I’ll try and be a little more offended,” Bucky mocked, nudging his shoulder into Steve. “And I do have respect! Respect for America,” he retorted with a wink. He placed a fist over his chest, straightened his posture royally and cleared his throat. “I pledge allegiance to that ass.” He then began to obnoxiously and dramatically sing the American national anthem. “Oh, say, can you see..? By the dawn’s early light-“

“You’re a jerk,” Steve grumbled, hand fumbling for Bucky’s.

“How honoured I am(!) And you’re the biggest Punk I know...” Bucky responded, swaying to face him and fondly, kissing Steve’s lips.

Steve made the sweetest little breathless noise into his mouth as he recoiled.

“D’you know that gay marriage is illegal in Russia?” Steve spoke quietly between them, their lips still hovering mere inches apart, tantalising and tempting. “They think that homosexuality should be illegal.” Steve gave a miffed eye roll.

“Oh, Stevie... Now you’re just tempting fate. You’re asking for me to be disobedient and disrespectful now...” Bucky whined in the most petulant sobbing voice he could muster. “You’ve given me a better reason than any to make a show... ‘Specially for those bastards.” Bucky’s eyes were glinting with mischief, dark under the hoods of his eyelids and he was simpering alluringly: face brightened and shimmering with the lights of the city, but framed by the darkness of the rooftop.

“Perhaps I like it when you’re a little disobedient...” Steve hummed contently, cocking his head, cocky about the reaction he provoked.

Bucky slipped a hand beneath the joint of Steve’s knee and welcomed his leg to curl around his hip. He snaked his arms around Steve’s slender sturdy waist and French dipped him ostentatiously: bending Steve low and arching his back until his head was dangling over the edge.