You technically got wined. There's probably some stale chips in the cupboard if you want to snack.
[ they keep circling this. the jokes took on the tenor of flirtation a while ago even via text, of hinting at— something— but he's not sure what to do with any of it, the insinuations, the way they skirt the edges of addressing whatever-this-is (is he wining and dining her?? god, who can tell). so instead, bucky goes ahead and perches himself on the end of his bed, grabs the remote and turns on the tv, flipping through the channels until he finds some comfortingly banal middle-of-the-night programming. a sitcom with a live audience, predictable beats, laughter. it turns out to be Friends, 'the one with the tiny t-shirt'; he snorts at the irony when the episode title pops up on the channel finder. ]
You can crash here. I'd feel like shit kicking you back out onto the streets.
[ maybe he'll make a return to sleeping on the floor, just for tonight. it's fine. ]
no subject
[ they keep circling this. the jokes took on the tenor of flirtation a while ago even via text, of hinting at— something— but he's not sure what to do with any of it, the insinuations, the way they skirt the edges of addressing whatever-this-is (is he wining and dining her?? god, who can tell). so instead, bucky goes ahead and perches himself on the end of his bed, grabs the remote and turns on the tv, flipping through the channels until he finds some comfortingly banal middle-of-the-night programming. a sitcom with a live audience, predictable beats, laughter. it turns out to be Friends, 'the one with the tiny t-shirt'; he snorts at the irony when the episode title pops up on the channel finder. ]
You can crash here. I'd feel like shit kicking you back out onto the streets.
[ maybe he'll make a return to sleeping on the floor, just for tonight. it's fine. ]