[ the whole time that she's showering, he's having a minor heart attack.
he paces the confines of the studio apartment and compulsively cleans it: bucky packs up the first aid kit and puts it away again, and grabs a bottle of water for her. scrubs at the armchair a little, but it's a lost cause. he anxiously remakes his bed, but the sheets are already tucked in tight against that brand-new bedframe. there's just so few objects in this apartment that there isn't even anything to straighten up, no way to make it look even more presentable, and no way to occupy himself while he's trying not to listen to that distant muted sound of running water.
and when yelena steps out from the bathroom, he has a major heart attack.
his gaze drifts downwards to the dangling hem of his shirt, accidentally riveted and caught by the sight of the long lines of her bare thighs, the turn of her knee and calf, her bare feet on the hardwood floor. she is not wearing pants. yelena is not wearing pants. bucky swallows, a ripple of surprise and self-consciousness crossing his face. ]
Uh, yeah— of course— sorry, forgot—
[ and back to the closet and he digs around. he doesn't actually have anything that works besides boxers, so when he walks over to her, he has to hand over a pair of plaid boxer shorts. his actual underwear. he's staring fixedly at her face now, chin up, preventing himself from sneaking another glance at her thighs. how did they wind up like this? —except because he's james barnes, he also can't resist harkening back to the last time she was here: ]
no subject
he paces the confines of the studio apartment and compulsively cleans it: bucky packs up the first aid kit and puts it away again, and grabs a bottle of water for her. scrubs at the armchair a little, but it's a lost cause. he anxiously remakes his bed, but the sheets are already tucked in tight against that brand-new bedframe. there's just so few objects in this apartment that there isn't even anything to straighten up, no way to make it look even more presentable, and no way to occupy himself while he's trying not to listen to that distant muted sound of running water.
and when yelena steps out from the bathroom, he has a major heart attack.
his gaze drifts downwards to the dangling hem of his shirt, accidentally riveted and caught by the sight of the long lines of her bare thighs, the turn of her knee and calf, her bare feet on the hardwood floor. she is not wearing pants. yelena is not wearing pants. bucky swallows, a ripple of surprise and self-consciousness crossing his face. ]
Uh, yeah— of course— sorry, forgot—
[ and back to the closet and he digs around. he doesn't actually have anything that works besides boxers, so when he walks over to her, he has to hand over a pair of plaid boxer shorts. his actual underwear. he's staring fixedly at her face now, chin up, preventing himself from sneaking another glance at her thighs. how did they wind up like this? —except because he's james barnes, he also can't resist harkening back to the last time she was here: ]
You do have super strong legs.