experienceandpatience

This is why Bucky doesn't talk. People feel bad when he does, even when he doesn't want them to. And he doesn't mean just Zemo or Oeznik when he says 'people' - it's usually everyone, in some way.

"We'll see what tomorrow brings." Bucky tries an encouraging smile on for size. He doesn't want to say he's hoping things will turn out one way or another. Honestly, he doesn't know if he has much of a preference, beyond Zemo getting what he's comfortable with. All he's familiar with is having good days and bad days, and he can only hope that tomorrow will be an even better day than what they've already had so far.

"Is anything else different?" Obviously there's different body parts, different clothes and all that, but Bucky's more wondering if there's anything unexpected. Like if the coffee somehow tastes different.

He doesn't feel bad. It's just a confusing situation -- and Zemo truly doesn't do well with not having any answers or easy solutions. Still, he manages a bit of a smile at the encouragement and nods his head.

"Of course." And hopefully, it brings a little clarity at the very least.

"Mm?" He pauses at that, tilting his head to look down at his own hands thoughtfully. "I still feel like myself, for the most part. I think I am still discovering differences."

A pause. "I have no idea what to expect with anything, really. Do I seem any different to you?"

"You seem different." But Bucky's not sure how to explain that difference. It's not just a physical thing. Those differences are more obvious and easy to pick up on. He's definitely not commenting on the sexy thing even if Zemo's found some new and interesting ways to get Bucky to blush already.

"Maybe you're just. A little more relaxed," Bucky dismisses with a small tight-lipped smile before he finishes the rest of his coffee and sets his empty cup down, licking and chewing on his lips. "Or maybe it's just enough time's passed since I sliced my hand open that you're not fussing anymore," he jokes self-depreciatingly.

Come to think of it, he's been having more and more dreamless nights, spoon or no spoon, and he's not sure if it can be wholly attributed to some kind of healing process.

"Relaxing and taking it easy are a good look on you." It might sound a little hypocritical, perhaps, but he's never had such lofty goals for himself.

"Yes, well--" Zemo gives a shrug of his shoulders before he reaches across the table to brush his fingertips over the bandage. "Do try to avoid doing that again and I won't have to fuss."

Or have to redo stitches again. Lesson learned about keeping his hands to himself in tiny little beds, at least.

"Those are things we typically can't afford to do often... outside of our home at least." Relaxing, taking anything easy. He's only able to relax a bit at the moment because he's rather sure no one is looking at him and seeing Zemo.

There's a teasing smile that graces his lips as he puts his coffee aside, empty now. "Earlier, you called me Helmut."

"It's almost healed." And it was nice, once the failed attempt at getting clothes off and down to business resulted in honeymoonesque cuddles with Zemo clinging onto him leeching his warmth out of his back. Equally nice, although Bucky would insist it's weird, is Zemo trying to kiss his hand better. Nobody's really done that - well, maybe not for a hundred years, and he wouldn't even really be exaggerating.

He's not sure if Zemo was trying his luck to see if it would push Bucky's buttons to plant kisses on every scar. It certainly told Zemo which ones to avoid if the way Bucky flinched was anything to go by. But for the most part Bucky had tolerated it and he's slowly been trained out of glaring and into even welcoming the attention, moving his head out of the way to let Zemo access some of them while getting rewarded by splayed-fingers belly rubs and soothing blunt-nailed scratches.

"Did I?" It had flowed so naturally he didn't even notice. It certainly wasn't intentional on his part - he's not a deliberate button-pusher or boundary-tester. Bucky leans in a little closer, tilting his head a bit, a testament to how much time he's spent with Zemo. "Did it feel weird?"

It had been a nice night, once the excitement was over. There were no glares or pushing or complaints, just Bucky subtly pressing back against him, tangling in closer and welcoming him in. For all Zemo's complaints about the isolation, he had to admit there were some... very nice moments in there as well. Ones he would not have traded.

And it's certainly nice, the way that Bucky welcomes him in. They've come a very long way from their first night where Zemo had found himself shoved face down into the mattress and unsure whether Bucky was trying to break him or punish him for the suggestion, or whether it had all been base instincts.

"Not at all." He had been the one to suggest Bucky not be shy about his first name after all, and he can't fault him for using it. "For a moment, it almost felt like I was in another life... one that I thought was gone when Sokovia fell."

That casual intimacy of someone calling him Helmut while they explained their day away, or Oeznik's quirks as the case may be. "There is something... dehumanizing about solitary confinement."

He's also rather certain Bucky understands all of that, on some level, even if their circumstances were different. "The guards who did come to deliver my food or take me for my showers looked at me like an animal, certainly didn't appreciate my attempts at conversation."

There's a wry smile. "It is nice to be treated as a person again, I suppose. Not simply a criminal. Or perhaps I just simply enjoy your company that much."

Bucky just nods and lowers his gaze. He's had Steve's friends come into his life in recent years, with whom he could get a coffee and just talk if he felt inclined to talk, and he'd just be 'Bucky' to them. Bucky, the out of place, out of time vet, with all his human struggles and crippling guilt. It wasn't like his time in Hydra, where he was just 'soldat' if he was spoken to. One of many soldiers, and not really amounting to anything else. And nobody was expecting him to talk, either.

He had never begged, but he had starved, and he had been kicked while he was down, and he had whimpered. Well they hosed him down and beat the whimpering out of him too, but even when they'd finally broken him in just the way they wanted him, suggestible and mercurially docile and violent and eager to please, they never gave him the validation of being anything more than their soldier.

So, he understands, that kind of objectification and the loneliness, the craving and yearning for that kind of validation. What the damaged heart wants is a simple thing - to be Bucky or Helmut to be somebody. Sometimes, anybody.

"You are." More than just the ugly, demonised thing everyone is projecting onto him. And Bucky feels inadequate, being the one to give Zemo that lifeline out of a very private, very personal, very internalised hell when there are Those Mornings he can't even get his own shit together.

But it seems that for now, he might be the only one who can be here for Zemo. And he wants to be. So Zemo will just have to settle for what damaged, refurbished goods he has sitting in front of him.

"I'll call you anything you like. For as long as you need to hear it," Bucky promises quietly.

Zemo knows full and well what he is, and what he willingly became. He's-- tried to do the necessary things, the right things for the best ending. But right and necessary don't always mean good. He's never taken joy in blood shedding or torture or murder, but that hardly means he didn't do those things.

He can't even say there isn't a bit of guilt over King T'Chaka. It hadn't quite been intentional, even if he'd known there would likely be casualties in his seeking revenge. He can't say there isn't a bit of guilt over using Bucky either, even if it hadn't been personal on his end.

But here he is, sitting across from that very man, with shared rings on their fingers, and feeling... almost hopeful. Certainly charmed. And for right now? Zemo isn't going to let paranoia that Bucky is only doing this because of his current body ruin a very nice thing. Instead, he slides to his feet and leans in to steal a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before he slides his hand back into Bucky's to give a tug. "You're making it very difficult to not want to drag you somewhere very private, James."

... And not simply for sex -- something Zemo isn't entirely certain of in this body, despite all teasing otherwise. But it is a bit undignified to hang over each other in public like he's tempted to do, he supposes. "Come on. We should go finish what we need to do."

Somewhere very private where he can be showered with nice things, right? Nothing sexual at all, of course. He wouldn't complain about that. They're surely too puritanical to fumble around strange new body parts and try to bone each other in the backseat. Bucky gets to his feet and picks up the flat packed cat tree on his way out of the comfy seat, stumbling along where Zemo's taking him.

"Yeah. Something for Oeznik," after they get the bill for their coffee. Multiple things for Oeznik, if they come across multiple things. Once they're out of the cafe, it's Bucky's turn to tug Zemo along past the watch store.

"No, Helmut, you have like a hundred watches." Nevermind that all he has is men's watches that you can read the dial from if you're having a cup of decaf on the international space station, and nothing more feminine, and no jewellery either.

Well, it may be chilly, watching a movie in the car... they may have to be clever about how to keep warm. It's practical, in that case. Just like Zemo is rather sure it's practical to gawk inside the window at all the watches like a child in a toy store.

There will undoubtedly be multiple things for Oeznik and for Zemo, possibly even for Steve still waiting to be purchased, but he fixes Bucky with a slight frown at the insistence. "I can't wear any of the watches I have right now, James. They're much too big. Besides-- Oeznik may appreciate a new watch."

... And Bucky, for that matter. That eight dollar Walmart watch is an offense to watches everywhere. "You can't say no when it's for Oeznik."

Not if he wants to bring him something nice back, at least. Right?

Bucky hesitates and huffs that kind of irritated sigh that Zemo knows he always gets when he's won a non-argument with Bucky. This doesn't seem like a fight worth having. If Bucky is getting a clicky button phone, then fine, Zemo is getting another watch. Multiple watches, by the sounds of it, if he's going to get himself and Oeznik one.

"You haven't even worn half your watches," Bucky reminds him as they step into the watch store. There's cameras here, a few too many staff in suits compared to the number of customers. He's a little uncomfortable, but not to the point where the residual anxiety is showing in any obvious ways. At least until one of the more astute salespeople tries to separate the wife from the husband and lure Bucky to the other side of the store with some ridiculously overpriced limited editions.

"I'm fine thanks," he snips flatly, grip tightening on the shopping.

"I have," Zemo insists. He's had to try them on, after all. At least Zemo is sympathetic enough to loop an arm around Bucky's and tug him towards the display of women's watches. There are quite a few cameras around -- this isn't a place he would dare come, normally. But no one will recognize him like this --

And if they recognize Bucky, he's rather certain they can lie their way out of it. Surely.

"I just need something simple, while I'm like this." Something classic. But there are a lot of simple and classic designs that catch his eye. Bucky can probably recognize the internal debate going on as he tries to decide between a couple.

"You could use a new watch as well, you know. Perhaps you should have gone and looked at their selection..."

"I'm not leaving." Just because nobody seems to be recognising either of them right now doesn't mean Bucky would just let his guard down. It's not separation anxiety if it's just a bit of overprotectiveness kicking in from time to time, at least until he's ascertained that nobody in the store is going to try anything he doesn't like.

"And I'm happy with my watch." At most he'll upgrade to the classic Casio F-91W which is only going to be a couple dollars more than the one he's currently wearing. Need he remind Zemo that if he'd wanted something simple, there were $8 women's watches in Walmart that were simpler than these Audemars Piguet Royal Oaks he's looking at?

"Anyway. We can go there and pick something out for Oeznik after you're--" ...is that a two hundred thousand dollar watch? "--done..."

There's a bit of a smile at the insistence, Zemo's eyes darting from watches to Bucky soon after. "Worried I may purchase the entire store or that you may lose sight of me?"

Not that Zemo seems particularly bothered by that. Possibly a bit bothered by the insistence that his cheap watch is fine. Clicky phones and cheap watches... They are quite opposites at times.

"Of course." There's a pause when Bucky fumbles over his words, lips curling up in amusement. "You look almost faint, James. Are you well?"

"I'm not worried." Who said he was worried? Is it the furrow of his eyebrows or the glaring at the manager who's trying to flirt with Zemo or the regular checking of the security guard posted out front?

"These watches seem complicated," is all Bucky is going to say. At two hundred thousand dollars it can't not be complicated. He's not even sure if a vibranium watch that can microwave frozen dinners and track asteroids would cost two hundred thousand dollars.

He's a bit reluctant to touch anything or offer any advice when it comes to which of the narrowed down list Zemo should go for. They're probably not all the price of a house each but even at a tenth of a house, that's ridiculously indulgent. He doesn't have a preference either way as long as they can tell the time reliably.

Under any other circumstance, there might have been a bit of amusement in Bucky's annoyance over someone trying to flirt -- it's all very harmless after all. As it is, there's a reassuring squeeze to Bucky's arm as he returns his attention to the watches.

He's very tempted by that watch, but in the end he goes for a bit more reasonably priced Jaeger LeCoultre Grande Reverso. Isn't fifty thousand a bit more conservative? And then they're being ushered over to see some of the men's watches after Zemo teasingly mentioned to Bucky a Rolex may put him on his-- father-in-law's good side. More normal than a butler and there's something amusing in the reaction the salesperson gives.

But Zemo will make the choice for him -- something he thinks Oeznik will appreciate and wear. He does deserve to be spoiled a bit after all -- he's had almost as much excitement as Zemo and Bucky lately.

They'll be out of there soon enough before it stresses Bucky out too much -- hopefully at least.

Despite the brief stint he's spent in Brooklyn, Bucky hasn't actually been socialised enough to realise that a bit of friendly back and forth and harmless flirting is very normal when buying all sorts of things from clothes to breakfasts to cars and what-have-you. The one time someone had tried it on him, he ended up toppling over the mannequin they were standing next to and making things horribly awkward. Thankfully there weren't any damages needed to be paid then. He's not sure he can afford any damages in this shop right now.

Fifty thousand dollars is not reasonably priced. Bucky's trying to fit in with his permanent scowl even though Zemo can see the internal balking plain as day.

"Right. Um. Dad..." Bucky averts his gaze and lets Zemo pick out a nice Rolex, trying to remember if Oeznik wears fancy watches. He remembers seeing a watch on that wrist but he wouldn't have known if it was a normal watch or one of these house downpayments of a watch. It's all too rich for his blood - that is, until his eyes get drawn to a blue Omega Seamaster watch that's next to the James Bond and the Olympics and the whatever ranges they have on offer. Blue leather strap, blue watch face, blue everything, and not just blue but a deep, dark, rich shade of phthalo blue that would have matched Steve's outfit.

A part of Bucky will always miss him. But a part of Zemo must feel like he inherited this wreckage of a man that was Zola and Steve and Shuri and Sam's unfinished, abandoned project. And he just has to make do with this omelette that's been half-forged in the fire but missing the salt and the mushrooms, the bacon and the chives, and all the other good stuff to make a decent omelette and probably should have been scrambled in the first place.

"It's very nice," Zemo comments, eyes trailing to the watch Bucky has fixated on. He leans in until his shoulder is nudging against Bucky's to gently draw his attention back. He can-- imagine why Bucky is transfixed on that particular shade of blue. He's not foolish.

Although he hardly feels like Bucky is all that terrible. If he'd been such a wreck beyond salvaging, he'd never have wanted to put a ring on his finger, nor would he be out on the closest thing they've had to normal couples' activities in... possibly ever. "We'll take this one as well, I think."

Whether Bucky puts up a token protest or not, Zemo would rather he have a nice thing... something meaningful.

And there -- they all three have new watches and Zemo can't deny he's feeling rather good about it, or better about things in general the more he gets used to the strangeness of it all.

Bucky's idea of a protest is one of those noises that basically everyone ignores while they box everything up in boxes that Bucky didn't know could ever be that fancy and hand off a small paper bag to Zemo. Is that going to stop him from lying on the floor under the cat tree holding the watch up holding the ends of the straps in his hands turning the watch over for hours while he thinks about those good old days while other-Steve snoozes in the fake foliage with a paw sticking out the platform? Probably not.

"What's with you and watches anyway?" Bucky asks after they've left the watch shop for a couple minutes. "Why do you need more than one?" Is it one of those 1%er club hobbies? Or is Zemo just going to ask him what is it with Bucky and knives anyway? That feels a little different though - they're cheaper and disposable and he doesn't bother taking them back when he throws them at assholes.

"I suppose the same reason my wife enjoyed jewelry or you enjoy your knives. I like them, and they're not all the same. It makes collecting them appealing." He gives a shrug of his shoulders as he takes the bag and ushers them out of the store, giving a thoughtful hum as he debates where to take them next.

The mobile store seems like the best idea right now. "I think after we have replaced your phone, we are finished here... unless there's something else you would like to look at?"

"Yeah but I could carry twenty knives on me and I might come limping back with only two knives left. You can't wear twenty watches." He doesn't actually carry twenty knives on him, even on a tough mission, but Zemo can bet that he's got at least two on him right now, and Zemo can reliably always joke if that's his favourite knife or if Bucky is just happy to see him. The only time he's really unarmed is on the floor, or in bed, with no compartments in his boxer briefs to hide anything.

They turn around the corner to the mobile store and it's brightly lit, spacious, substantially more crowded than the watch store, and there's basically a hundred different smartphones with only two options for the type Bucky would actually use which would make it straightforward and easier to just beeline to the counter, point at one and leave in five minutes.

"I think this is it, yeah. Unless you want to get supplies for the movie later."

"Well, not at once." But he can certainly wear a watch that matches his outfit or the occasion without any trouble. He doesn't always wear the same one every day -- not like someone.

"I suppose we could grab a blanket. It may get cold..." There will be questionable food available at the concession stand to be sure, but a snack or two couldn't hurt either, he supposes.

Edited 2022-02-21 03:54 (UTC)

That's why you get a black one, Zemo. You can wear it for any occasion at any summer garden gala or when you've got a fist in someone's ribcage. Would you go on a mission with a fifty thousand dollar watch?

"Are you cold?" he asks, pressing the back of his flesh hand against Zemo's forearm. Did he get a jacket? Bucky didn't exactly go through the clothes shopping.

"We can get something warm. Anyway there's no blanket for the couch..." Or a throw, or whatever it's called. Probably because they're trying to discourage Bucky from sleeping anywhere other than an actual, proper bed...

Well, sometimes you end up wearing the fifty thousand dollar watch when it's necessary to have your hands bloodied up, but it's usually not quite the plan for the evening... and in any case, having only one watch is rather boring. Bucky needs to learn to appreciate accessories at some point.

Maybe his new watch will encourage that, but Zemo doubts it.

The brush of a hand across his arm has him pausing and giving a bit of a smile. "I'm fine at the moment, James."

And in any case, he does have a jacket but-- it's much more appealing to siphon Bucky's heat at the moment. Perfectly done with a throw around them while they park. "By design. I do prefer seeing you in my bed than on the couch..."

He pauses. "Our bed now, I suppose. But I suppose as long as you promise to make it there some nights, a throw for the couch is fine..."

That would be just as bad as getting blood on the shield. There's no way Bucky's wearing that watch while intentionally trying to hurt somebody.

There's one of those Bed Bath and Whatever places on their way towards the exit, so they can stop by and pick up a chunky knit throw, or whatever catches Zemo's fancy. The place smells like vanilla candles if vanilla candles were a $4 bottle of perfume and somebody sprayed half a bottle of it everywhere, so Bucky wrinkles his nose and tries to keep his eyes from watering as he suffers through the store.

"Our bed..." That sounds a little weird. But it is, their bed. They're supposed to share things now. And he feels obligated to show up every night now, not just. Some nights. That's going to be a challenge. He can promise to be in the room, but he can't reliably get enough sleep on a bed every night just yet.

And then it starts to dawn on Bucky that there's going to be an our almost-everything. Something that Zemo's probably already thought about and dealt with, but of course, Bucky is always late on the uptake. Is he ready for that? He doesn't mind sharing what worldly possessions he doesn't have, but. Does he have to tell Zemo everything now? Are they supposed to--... plan things together?

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