Me and you kid [closed]

[tookthewheel]

Who| Bucky and Aang
What| Heart to hearts and painting over outdated Soviet symbols
Where| Bucky's room in D1
When| Before the Crowning
Warnings/Notes| Fluff?

Bucky pushes open the door to his room, barely paying attention to his surroundings in what is a treasonous act against his training. The week has been long, feeling more like a year than a few days since his arrival, and he's been feeding his mental exhaustion by trying to work his body down to the bone for the hope of sleep without nightmares. Finding someone -- other than his tribble -- in his room therefore comes as a surprise.

Judging by the size of the bundled form under the blanket, and the fact there's only one person he can think of who'd really do something like this, Bucky can easily guess who it is.

He feels bad suddenly, a feeling that cuts through his all-encompassing grief, that he had been neglecting seeking out Aang. Certainly that probably had something to do with him coming back to this situation. Bucky bites down on the sigh as he sits on the edge of the bed, reaching to gently nudge the boys shoulder.

"Aang?"

Comments

[actually112]

It didn't take Aang long to realize that Steve was gone. He decided it would probably be better to leave Bucky alone for a while, because Steve always seemed to be like an extra limb for Bucky, and vice versa. Even so, Aang himself has been tormented by nightmares and grief over Clementine, and instead of seeking Bucky out to help him with grief when Bucky already has so much of his own, he just... takes naps in the man's bed. Maybe it's strange, but it smells like comfort to Aang, and he can't sleep in his own bed anymore.

Being caught at it is a little embarrassing, and not at all what he meant when he told himself he wouldn't bother Bucky when he was grieving.

Aang sticks his face out from under the blankets, still bleary from sleep but having the presence of mind to blush when he looks at Bucky. "I, uh..." Yeah, there's no way to explain this away. "I can go if you want."

[tookthewheel]

"No." Bucky shakes his head, taking less than a second to refute that offer as he reaches up and briefly touches his hand to Aang's shoulder again. "It's alright if you want to sleep here."

He's not sure if that was Aang's intent or if the kid simply fell asleep while waiting for Bucky to return, either way it doesn't matter, he's still welcome.

"How are you doing?" No sense in dancing around the subject.

[actually112]

Aang instinctively shifts so that he can be closer to Bucky, curling under his touch (and under his covers). He's been unfortunately starved of affection, and it doesn't feel right to ask Bucky for touch he hasn't offered unless Aang really needs it. When it's offered, he's not going to pass up the opportunity.

"I should be asking you that question," Aang says softly, deftly turning the question away from himself and back to Bucky. He had told himself that he wouldn't pile his own issues on top of Bucky's (again), and he's going to at least try to keep it that way.

[tookthewheel]

Bucky tilts his head, looking like a confused (and slightly bedraggled) labrador, before his shoulders slump tiredly. He keeps his fingers on Aang's shoulder, "Asked you first." he says, watching the way Aang curls closer, snuggled up in Bucky's bed in a cocoon of his blankets. "I'm..."

He pauses, licks his lips as he tosses back and forth between answers, weighing them up in his head before speaking. "Getting there."

Not good, not happy but not in that self-destructive place he'd been immediately after knowing. He's working through it slowly, trying to find his balance again in the wake of loss.

[actually112]

"Asked you second," Aang says back, but he stays silent as he watches Bucky think. He wants to help, wants to provide comfort and care and reassurance, but it's hard when Bucky doesn't see him as the Avatar but as Aang, as a little boy. He can't offer it the way he can with people who are his own age, or who are used to the idea of taking wisdom from the Avatar. He can only offer comfort the way a child might.

"I'm getting there too." If Bucky tells him that he's moving forward, Aang can say the same. It hurts, but it's not as if he hasn't done this before. "I'm sorry that..." Aang reaches out, touching Bucky's hand and frowning. "I'm sorry."

He could tell Bucky about love. Love as energy, love always coming back, but that's something to hear after the rawness has faded a little and has turned into just a dull ache in the soul. Aang's not sure if it's time yet.

[tookthewheel]

The childish response cuts through the misery to make him almost smile.

"It's..." he almost rebuts the comment with not your fault but that's obvious and Aang's not trying to lay claim to any guilt for what happened. Bucky breathes in, long and deep enough that it starts to hurt, then exhales in a rush. "Thanks." That seems to be the safest way to answer.

He keeps his hand still under Aang's.

"Sorry I didn't come see you."

[actually112]

"It's okay. I get it. I'm sorry I didn't come see you either." Aang runs his thumb along the ridges of Bucky's metal hand. "I thought maybe you would like to be alone."

And Aang didn't want to feel like a burden. He didn't want Bucky to feel like he had to take care of a little boy on top of everything else.

"I was going to ask if you wanted your arm re-painted, but then..." Aang shrugs. Then he realized that Steve wasn't coming back, and he knew that Bucky had bigger things on his mind, that everyone had bigger things on his mind.

[tookthewheel]

"Not all the time." Bucky closes his eyes for a moment. He had been alone a lot of it, certainly, but there had been Peggy and Sam keeping him company. "It's okay. I'm better now."

His arm - right, the paintjob Aang had left on it before hadn't survived through his death and ressurection, now it's just the red star again. "No," he replies quickly, "I would like that. It looked much better the way you did it."

[actually112]

Aang glances at Bucky's face, checking if he's just humoring him, but he doesn't think he is. Bucky likes to humor him, but he doesn't seem to be doing it now. It makes sense. Bucky doesn't talk about it often, but he knows the man hates reminders of the things that happened to him.

"I got better paints this time," Aang says, still holding onto Bucky's metal hand. "They're meant to be used on metal. I practiced with them so I won't mess up." He plans on using the same basic design he did last time, but to make it cleaner since he's already made it once. The symbols of the Air Nation and the Water Tribes work well together for Bucky.

[tookthewheel]

"You did?" He's touched that Aang thought that far ahead. Bucky hadn't even considered the difference between paints and how well they'd stick to the metal. He just knows that whatever they used to put the star on his arm was good enough that it had never faded despite a massive amount of wear and tear, leaving the only options to get it either professionally taken off or have it painted over. "Good thinking."

Bucky squeezes carefully with his metal hand. "Do you want to do it now?"

[actually112]

"Thanks." Aang is capable of sitting back and thinking about things when it comes to doing things for his friends. He wants Bucky to be as comfortable in his own skin as possible, and that means painting over the star.

It makes him feel better to think he can help.

"Yeah, if that's okay." Aang detangles himself from Bucky's sheets and gets into a proper sitting position. "All my paints are in my room."

[tookthewheel]

"Alright then." Bucky hasn't got anything else planned for today, shockingly. He very rarely does unless someone else invites him somewhere, or gives him suggestions. "Then let's head up there."

He goes to his wardrobe first to change his shirt for one that doesn't smell of sweat. Realistically he'd be better off taking a shower, but he doesn't want to make Aang wait.

It's testimony to how far they've come that he doesn't hesitate in baring his torso in front of the kid, with its mottled patchwork of scars. Bucky slips off the t-shirt for a sleeveless vest, something that'll make it easier for Aang to work on his arm with.

[actually112]

Aang's eyes briefly linger on Bucky's torso--he's seen many scars before, but he's never seen metal meet flesh like that, like it's welded together, and he wonders if it hurt to have it attached--but then he's looking at Bucky's face again because he knows Bucky well enough to realize he wouldn't like being stared at.

He jumps up from the bed when Bucky changes, nudging his arm gently before going out into the common area. He's obviously eager to paint, eager to be able to do something good for Bucky and maybe focus some of his feelings through art.

[tookthewheel]

Bucky smiles at the nudge and turns, obediently following at Aang's heels like an overgrown duckling, content to be led. At this point no one's surprised anymore to see the tall, broad form of the Winter Soldier following the whip-thin Airbender child around.

They make their way out, to the common room, then from the District 1 suite to the elevator to ride up to District 4.

[actually112]

When they get to Aang's room, it's neat and well-lit and his bed doesn't look like he's been spending too much time in it. He goes to his closet and nimbly balances one foot on the door knob to hoist himself up and grab paints and brushes from the top shelf instead of, you know, asking the grown man to grab them like a normal child.

He jumps down from the knob without breaking any bones and with paints hugged to his chest, mostly blues and whites. "Sit wherever you like. You want me to try drawing what I plan on doing first to show you, or do you want me to surprise you?"

[tookthewheel]

Bucky watches amusedly from behind, a small smile curving his lips as Aang clambers and climbs, just like a little monkey. He swears he wouldn't be surprised for the kid to one day turn round to him sporting a long furry tail.

"I trust you to surprise me." Bucky says easily, taking a seat down on the floor, which is the biggest stable surface available with room for both himself and Aang.

[actually112]

Knowing some of the things that happened in the arena, Aang might jsut do that some day.

Aang beams with pride before sitting down next to Bucky and laying out his paints. "You'll like it." He dabs his brush in the paints carefully before pulling Bucky's arm towards him and making slow, languid sweeps with the brush. Last time he painted Bucky's arm, he mixed Air Nomad and Water Tribe designs, and he intends to do that again. It's all curves and gentle sweeping lines. A change from the harsh points and rigid edges of the red star.