thecapitol | The hair makes the man [closed]

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The hair makes the man [closed]

Who| Peggy and Bucky
What| Bucky got told to get a haircut by canon!Peggy in his dream, makes sense that her Panem counterpart's the only one he trusts to do the job
Where| D10 suite to start
When| backdated to right after the 4th wall ends, before Bucky goes to D13
Warnings/Notes| naaw?

The dream sticks with him, the good dream, the one where he met and remembered her again. His Peggy Carter, the blazing English beauty who took no lip or disservice from anyone while war raged hell around them. The memory of her surges, conflicts and matches with the woman he's come to know here, different and the same in many ways.

He remembers the affection he'd had for her, both for who she was and how much she did, how much she meant to Steve. Peggy Carter had seen Steve the same way Bucky did, even before he got juiced up on super-soldier serum.

So, the fact that she'd given him an order sticks and he intends to follow through, one last time in memory of her. God knows she'd probably find a way to reach through time and the multiverse to smack him in the head if he didn't. Yeah, he knows he could probably pass it off as just a dream but there had been something so real about it, and it's the best reasoning he's found to finally go ahead and cut his hair that he's found so far.

The Peggy of this world has her own apartment out in the city, but Bucky knows at this time of day he's got a pretty decent chance of catching her in District 10. If not here then he'll go down and try the training centre.

"Peggy?" he knocks on the door to her room.

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"Coming."

There's a rustle of paper from inside her room before she come and opens the door. If Bucky looks past her, he'll see a few filing cabinets and a desk with a computer. There is a bed, but it's neatly made, as if no one has slept there for a while. She'll sometimes stay in the Tribute Tower when she's worked particularly late, but her apartment is where she likes to go.

"James? What a pleasant surprise." She means it, too. She likes spending time with him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her words coax a smile a small smile out of him, though he still stands a little bowed, always looking like he's trying to curl in and hide in himself outside the arena. It's something of a challenge for someone his size and height.

"I was wondering if," Bucky felt self-conscious suddenly, like his question and his reasoning would come across as stupid. He knew his aversion to letting the stylists put scissors near his head was irrational, they were in the employ of the Capitol and the Capitol wanted him alive, but just the thought made him flinch.

They were impersonal when they dressed him, when they touched him and it always prompted flashes back to other impersonal hands on his body; many of which had done him harm.

"My hair. I want to cut it." he reached up and ran his fingers through it, "Could you help me?"

"You want me to cut your hair?" She reaches out to him and runs a lock of his hair between her fingers. His acceptance of her has made her perhaps more touchy than she ought to be, and definitely more touchy than she is with anyone else. She tries not to think about it too hard.

"A Stylist would do it better, but I used to cut the hair of my little cousins when it grew out too much. I can do it." 'My little cousins' is what she calls her Bucky's little sisters, but this Bucky doesn't need to be distracted by that. "Why the sudden urge? Getting ready for a date?"

He's probably not, but that doesn't mean she can't tease him. He's cute when he's flustered.

Edited 2015-08-10 17:26 (UTC)

"If that's okay." he shifts uncomfortably. It's not because she's touching him, he's getting used to that, but at her point a stylist would do it better. It makes him think she might be about to say no and ask him exactly why he won't get to a stylist to get it done. He's relieved when that turns out not to be the case.

True to her prediction he flushes under her teasing, "It's, uh," how does he explain it? "I used to wear it short before... everything." It'd been the style at the time and he'd liked it that way, he'd been proud of his appearance back then. "Someone reminded me."

He takes a breath, "This," he indicates his long hair, "This is them, it's not me."

She sobers a little. She remembers the dream, of him in that chair and all those people she killed to save him. She's not sure if he does. Maybe it's best if he doesn't. "I would be happy to make you more yourself."

It's good. It feels good to be able to do something to shear away the influence of his tormentors, even if it's something small like this. "And if it resets after the next arena, I would be happy to do it again." She gestures him inside and towards her bathroom, which has neatly organized makeup paraphernalia around the sink. "Go wet your hair and tell me what kind of style you're looking for. I can't promise professional results, but it'll be even."

It's touching to think that he's asking her to do this and not one of the people from his world. He obviously doesn't trust easily, and he's offering a woman he knows to be a killer a pair of scissors and easy access to his throat. Not that Peggy would ever dream of hurting him, but he's been burned more than once and that makes him shy around others.

Although in between the serious and touching, she can smile at the way he looks when he blushes. It's cute. She brushes her fingertips against his cheek before she lets go of his hair. "I'll grab some scissors and set up."

"Thank you." he replies, trying to pour every bit of the gratefulness he feels for her saying yes into the words, especially for her promise that she'll do it a second time if need be.

He starts for the bathroom, though stops just as quick when she asks him the style he wants; truthfully he doesn't know. Bucky's thoughts hadn't gone any further than 'short', maybe something like the man he'd seen in the Smithsonian had worn if he can describe it well enough. He'll think about it while he wets his hair.

It doesn't take him long. Bucky isn't fussy about the water temperature before he sticks his head underneath and make sure his head is good and damp before shutting it off. He's a bit more careful when it comes to squeezing the excess water off though, as he the joints in his left hand can sometimes catch and pull stray hairs out. After that he pushes the whole mess of it backwards, slick against his skull when he comes back out.

By this time he has words for her. He's also manages to stop blushing.

"Short." he sits down in the place she's set up for him. "Um, on the back and sides. Long enough on the top to cover my forehead..." Bucky wishes he had a picture to show her, then remembers with a pang the sketchbook of Steve's that's sitting in his room. There's a sketch of him in there of the way he used to be, he just didn't think to bring it. "... it doesn't have to be fancy, I trust you."

Peggy has set up a chair in the middle of the room with a little table next to it for her to keep a comb, a towel, a mirror, and a pair of scissors. She's almost disappointed that he stopped blushing, because he's cute when he does and she likes it when she can provoke a reaction like that out of him. That just means she'll have to tease him more about hot dates later.

She listens quietly, then nods. Her own Bucky used to wear his hair short with something like that, but her memory is imperfect. She'll do her best to not make the haircuts too similar. Her Bucky has probably changed his hairstyle in the last few years anyway, but no one wants the Buckys to look more alike.

The statement that he trusts her, even with something as seemingly small as this, is touching. She gives him a nod. "Good. I think I have an idea for what you might like." She pats the back of the chair. "Take a seat and I can get started. Is there anything else you'd like to let me know beforehand?"

The more he thinks about the sketchbook though, he realises he's actually glad he didn't think of it. Sure, it might have been easier to let Peggy give him exactly the sort of style he once had but it also wouldn't be right, it wouldn't fit right. He's not that guy anymore.

Not the Winter Soldier, not the Bucky Barnes that was, but something new. Something between both of them.

It's better that it's something different, he doesn't want to look into the mirror each morning and see a ghost.

"Okay." he sits down, moulding his spine to the back of the chair. Bucky thinks for a moment and then shakes his head. "No."

She leans down and places her thumbs on the back of his head, the heel of her palms pressing on the back of his neck and leans down to speak into his ear as she gently pushes his head downward. "Then lean your head downward."

She might be trying to get him to blush again. She smiles and lets him go once his head is in the position she needs it to be in. She takes the comb and starts pulling it through his hair gently, making sure everything is straight and even before picking up the scissors.

"When was the last time someone cut your hair?" she asks, re-positioning his head before getting started. There's no judgment in her voice. It's about conversation, not about judging his appearance.

Bucky shivers, feeling self-conscious about the response. There was no need, except there had also been no need for Peggy to lean in that close to whisper the words so he could feel the soft puff of air against his ear. He might be blushing again.

The old Bucky would've had some words to shoot back at her in this situation; this one however just stays quiet, nodding his head and doing as she tells him.

"Uh," he tries to think. He forgot in the dream but he remembers now, the first Black Widow and her distraction when Steve was taken into the mini-arena alone. "After my first arena. Before that... I don't remember."

He can't see her, so she lets herself have a victorious smirk when he shivers under her hands and she sees his face get red. Maybe it's not fair, since he can't really fight back against her, but she likes to think that a part of him likes it. At the very least, he has never drawn away from her when she gets to teasing.

"Then this is long overdue." She is good about brushing away the locks of hair that get on his shoulders, shearing away slowly and making sure it's all even. "I suppose it's good in this case that you lot reset after arenas, or your hair would be far longer by now."

She combs his hair again, checking that the lines she's cut are straight. "Not that you're not attractive with long hair; it's just that it tends to require more maintenance than short hair."

Bucky might not be able to voice it at the moment but she's not exactly wrong about that.

The attention feels good and though it makes him embarrassed it's not because he doesn't like it, it's because he does and he doesn't how to process that. Maybe Peggy realises, maybe she doesn't. Bucky dwells on it as she brushes his hair back from his face, leaving his skin tingling whenever her fingers touch him.

"They never let me out much for it to grow." How long did hair take to reach shoulder length naturally? He'd never questioned it before but the answer might be a clue to how much time he'd spent out of the ice, disregarding if they ever cut it for him or not.

The compliment makes him smile, "Thanks, but you pull it off better than me."

"They must have cut it at some point. Or did they just give you bobby pins for when it got into your eyes?" Surely a soldier with hair falling into his face every moment wouldn't have very good accuracy with a gun. Somehow, the idea of a bunch of corrupt agents digging around their pockets for something to pin their soldier's hair back makes her want to laugh. It might be the only sliver of amusement she'll ever get out of thinking about James' past.

She falls into a rhythm easily with the scissors. Comb. Straighten. Trim. Comb again to check if it's even. It's like she's cutting the kids' hair back in D10 again.

"Charmer." He provokes a small smile out of her too. "My face just happens to work best with a frame. Yours doesn't need one."

"If they did I don't remember. You'd think... I actually remember that happening sometimes." He'd been good enough that it had never really been a huge problem for him but Peggy had a point about the whole in their logic. "It was bad for sniping."

Bucky had worried he'd still tense up even under her hands but after the first few moments he actually relaxed, closing his eyes as he sank back into the chair.

"And you call me the charmer."

"You'd think they'd be a little more conscientious." If they're going to go through the trouble of brainwashing a man to be their perfect sniper, they ought to cut that man's hair so it doesn't get in the way of sniping. "Do you remember if they at least gave you your own ties to put your hair back?"

She chuckles softly, brushing locks of hair from his shoulders. "People expect me to be charming. I've been playing the Capitol game for years. You sneak the charm in there. I find that far more effective."

This is nice. Teasing, chatting, joking. This could have been an emotionally arduous process for him, and she doesn't want him to suffer from this history any more than he has to. She hopes she's made it even a little bit easier.

"I think so, sometimes." He thinks about it and yes, he's sure he got to tie it back on occasion. Still he shrugs, twisting the fingers of his right hand into his sleeve. "My comfort was never their priority." They expected that they'd made their Asset good enough that he could manage with any handicap and he had, right up until the very last one.

It feels strange. The sensation of hair falling away from his head and the delicate snip snip snip of the scissors near his ear as he concentrates on not flinching. "Lucky you met me now and not a few months back, you would have found me much less charming."

Bucky smiles a little, "Or maybe it's you who brings it out in me."

It's like dancing, he thinks, with words and not their bodies. It feels the same way as when he first pulled her into a dance, like muscle memory.

Of course his comfort wasn't their priority. She remembers the dream. She doesn't know all the details, but she knows enough to realize he lived through hell and the people who did it to him had no remorse. It reminded her of the Capitol in the casual way they tortured and used innocent people.

She wants to do something. Show him that he's cared for somehow. Nothing she does will erase the scars they put on him, and unlike in the dream, she can't kill those who did this.

The scissors pause briefly for her to comb his hair again, but she leans downward and brushes her lips on the part of his hair, before straightening up and combing and cutting like nothing happened. "I think I would have seen it even then. It's always been in there, just a little obscured."

She puts aside the scissors, looking at his hair critically before grabbing a mirror and offering it to him. "Let me know what you think. It's still wet, but if you'd like something fixed, it's better to do it before it dries."

Bucky doesn't expect that touch. He never seems to expect it when people touch him gentle, with warm affection rather than the intent to harm no matter how many times it happens. Maybe it always will surprise him from now on, up until the day he dies for real.

Her lips touch his head, though it takes him a moment to register exactly what it is and when he does he swallows thickly, a warm flush running through his body. Peggy's the only person who's kissed him that he remembers and, truthfully, he likes it a lot, which is a little more confusing now that he has some memory of the Peggy he'd known back in his own world.

"It looks good." Bucky manages to look up and take the mirror without fumbling it, blinking at the unfamiliar familiarity of his face. He looks strange to himself without the long hair but it's nice, not too short to look severe, nor too long to be impractical. "I like it."

She can see him flush in the mirror. He doesn't flinch or try to shrug her off, so she takes it that the affection isn't entirely unwelcome. That's good, because she likes having someone she feels comfortable being physically close to. Capitolites make her feel guarded and tense, and she misses being able to touch people without wanting to draw away.

She brushes stray locks of hair from his shoulders before leaning down and allowing her head to hover a few inches from his so she can look properly into the mirror too. With a smile, she says, "Excellent. I was hoping you would."

She straightens up and runs a hand through his hair, mussing it just a little so it doesn't look like it was combed a few hundred times, and lets her hands linger on his shoulders. "You look very handsome. The ladies will be lining up."

Her smile quirks slightly in amusement. "Don't forget the rest of us with all the attention," she gently teases.

When he face lines up with his Bucky finds himself smiling, a small curve of his lips that reflects Peggy's own.

"I don't know about that." He reaches up to brush the edges of his bangs. "I may lose some fans for this." His stylists liked his 'bad boy' look, whatever that was, going a little more clean cut might actually upset people. The thought made him smile a little wider.

"I don't want anyone else's attention. I already have the friends I want."

He's smiling. It really makes her warm to see him smile. It brightens his face and makes him look so much younger than he is.

"Good." She presses a brief kiss to his cheek. "I don't have to worry about a Capitolite woman stealing your attention."

She really shouldn't flirt so much, but it feels fun and natural and safe to do it with him. How many people can she do this with and feel safe?

She straightens up, her hands lingering on his shoulders before she moves away. "I have a hair dryer if you'd like to use it."

"No, you don't." He murmured, reaching up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously once Peggy's pulled away. It's different without all the hair in the way.

Bucky shakes his head at the offer of her hairdryer, "It'll dry fast enough on its own." And the room was warm enough that he felt no real discomfort at having wet hair. "Thank you, though. Again, for doing this. I know it's not in your job description."

He wasn't even one of her Tribute's.

"Think nothing of it. It's a favor for a friend, not a part of my job."

Her friend? Well, she does consider them friends, but she probably shouldn't say it so explicitly while in the Tribute Center. Oh well.

"That's.." Bucky starts, then pauses, really taking the time to pay attention to what Peggy just said. His smile settles back on his lips as he registers it. Friends, yeah, that's always good to hear. "That's good to hear, Peg."

The diminutive form of her name slips past his lips before he can think. "You did a swell job."

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The hair makes the man [closed]

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