zimnij_soldat (
zimnij_soldat) wrote2017-08-10 10:52 am
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Being Neighborly [for underachievment]
It's not Brooklyn, but then again, these days even Brooklyn isn't Brooklyn. At least, not the borough he remembers, and it has nothing to do with the colors and the languages and the people-- it's the fancy coffee shops and expensive apartments and five-star restaurants. So when they finally let him off the leash enough to get his own place in the city outside of HQ or the Tower, Hell's Kitchen is one of the few neighborhoods that feels close enough to home.
And yes, he knows all about the Devil. Bucky's even seen him leaping across rooftops. But Bucky's not here to make trouble, and he gets his fill of scrapping when he's out saving the world. Daredevil's got the streets covered, and that's fine by him.
Besides, being two blocks over from his favorite should-have-been-a-one-night-stand didn't hurt when it came to picking out his new place. In fact, after exchanging a couple of texts to let Jessica know he was going to be hanging his hat not too far away from her place, James now finds himself making sure he's got enough liquor in the cupboard, waiting for her to arrive.
And yes, he knows all about the Devil. Bucky's even seen him leaping across rooftops. But Bucky's not here to make trouble, and he gets his fill of scrapping when he's out saving the world. Daredevil's got the streets covered, and that's fine by him.
Besides, being two blocks over from his favorite should-have-been-a-one-night-stand didn't hurt when it came to picking out his new place. In fact, after exchanging a couple of texts to let Jessica know he was going to be hanging his hat not too far away from her place, James now finds himself making sure he's got enough liquor in the cupboard, waiting for her to arrive.
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Jess made sure he furnished the place before she would come over. Whiskey and vodka, then she backspaced on the vodka. Then, realizing that was probable the least thoughtless thing she'd done all week, she took a gulp from her bottle, grabbed her jacket and boots, took a second gulp, and took off. She only thinks to check her reflection while waiting at a crosswalk, out of boredom. It's what it is.
There aren't any nice apartment buildings within a two block radius of hers and she doesn't keep any of their street numbers in her head. When she links the address he gave her to the 6-storey crapbox she walks past all the time, the mundanity of her curiosity as to what the inside looks like leaves her throat more parched than the short walk did. Yeah, it's definitely time to get laid. It's her exclusive privilege to forego the buzzer, ducking into the alley to make the jump to the roof. The lock on the access door gives, the round knob crumpling in her hand. Jess figures these people are already screwed with Barnes taking up residence there -- that or they're as safe as they can reasonably be with SHIELD (or whatever they are now) eyes glued to the place.
Getting to his apartment, she knocks and then directs her gaze down the hallway instead of the small fisheye lens in the door.
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Seeing Jessica on the other side, he returns the piece to its hiding place, unlocks the door and opens it up. "C'mon in," Bucky says, without preamble, and moves aside.
He takes her in as she takes in the apartment. Bucky's actually managed to secure two units and knocked down the wall between them himself. And while it's clear that the building might be almost a century old, his place is clean and neat, if more than a little spartan when it comes to furnishings.
Bucky glances at the bottle in her hand. "You bring that to share?"
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"Yep," she replies, swallowing down the remains. What dregs linger at the bottom splatter about the base as she tosses the empty bottle his way. The disappointment is all his to process, or the, she doesn't know, whatever, she's not supposed to care beyond horny. Best part of the deal. With her hands free, she divests herself of her scarf and jacket. Tossing them on the nearest chair back could almost count as decorating the place, since it looks like the kind of apartment you get cheap after somebody dies in there.
"Hope you're not wanting that damage deposit back."
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He shrugs at the comment. "I've made a few improvements here and there since I moved in," Bucky says while glancing around the apartment. "And the furniture is pretty reinforced, so it's all supposed to stand up to a hell of a lot." His smirk deepens. "I guess this is as good a way as any to test that out."
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They both know what she's here for. Jess cares for small talk about as much as she loves foreplay or men taking her clothes off, so she carries on with her shirt and the tank top under it. She combs her hair back from her face and crosses the room to the only hallway, intent on rapidly hitting all the bullet points on a self-guided tour. She'll christen the kitchen when she's thirsty and the bathroom when she's ready to apply another layer of directionless guilt to herself -- so probably right before the kitchen. It's a modestly sized apartment: it takes a couple of seconds to map and her voice can probably be heard all the way up to the entrance.
"Well come on then, Bucky," she goads, preferring to use his last name when she's taking crap seriously, "we're gonna be late for the sock hop."
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He watches the whole thing with a bemused expression usually reserved for people watching videos of mischievous animals online (see, he's pretty hip for 90-something). Because no matter how broody and tortured he can be, Bucky's got nothing on Jessica. But it's one of the things that makes them work okay-- it doesn't ever enter his mind to tell her to stop or think that she could be better off with an adjusted attitude.
Bucky follows her, losing his own shirt on the way to the bedroom. "I got put under a little before that era," he corrects. "And they didn't do much sock hopping in the KGB." By the time he reaches the bedroom door, he's kicking himself free of his jeans.
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There's a bad joke to be had there but if he hasn't been burdened by modern-yet-woefully-outdated "in Soviet Russia" remarks yet, she's not the one to acclimate him there. Drinking and fucking their way around the heavier subjects leaves room mostly for banter and the basics, and that's plenty for her. Him too, from what she remembers of history class. She retained more from that subject than most once she was done with school, probably because horrifying details tend to stick in her mind like pushpins tipped with superglue.
The fact that his bed is made gets her to grin briefly. Old habits and shit, they both have them. Hers aren't as useful... Well, they aren't as practical. She's about to get pretty good use out of them right now. She takes in the rest as she unbuttons her jeans, turning back to him. She closes the space with confident steps until the height disparity has her looking up at him, then very deliberately sweeping all the way down. "How about Sadie Hawkins?"
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Bucky smirked. "Yeah, they'd been doing that for a few years by the time I went under. Why, you planning on chasing me around the apartment a few times before pinning me down?" He stepped forward, dropping his hands to the waist of her jeans, starting to tug them off her hips. If he was going to be down to just his skivvies, it was only fair if Jessica was, too.
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She keeps a hold on him as he straightens up, grip secure without imploring anything with a pull. Instead she puts a hand to his chest and guides his steps backwards towards the bed. "Pinning what you want tonight?" she asks like it's not a given to happen sometime but if that's where he'd prefer she'd start, she's got no reservations. Typically she avoids talking about sex, especially during it, but she likes to hear the yes's and no's from him and give them back when she feels.
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He steps back as Jessica guides him, smirking. "Definitely sounds like a good place to start. I've got no objections to letting you have your way with me for a while before switching it up." When the back of his legs find the bed, Bucky sits down, leaning back, inviting Jessica to climb onto him or proceed however she feels.
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"Next you're gonna use a word like 'lover'." Her head tips to the side, drawing all her hair over one shoulder. Lips smeared with cheap liquor, she spares him the notion of a rebuttal with a kiss that seals her rhetoric. It's short-lived as she shoves his back to the mattress. She knows how much strength to use, rationing out a little more than she'd normally use to keep a guy on his toes. A guy her type: Built like him, just with a lot less death on their conscience. It used to be none but lately it seems to be going up.
Jess leans down into him and rolls her hips back against his. The pressure of her hand flows from palm to fingertips; they move higher. When inhales to kiss him again, the heat of him flares where her breasts and stomach are lain along him.
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He can take what Jessica can dish out, and vice versa, which makes this a tidy little arrangement for them when it comes to being able to work out whatever crap they might have going on in their insane lives at any given moment. And no matter how much she's teased him about being old-fashioned (and Bucky knows damn well by now, she's not likely to stop unless she's got something better to do with her mouth, like the searing kiss that precedes him getting sent to the mattress).
She moves, and then the small, isolated patches of skin-to-skin contact become nearly every inch of them from shoulder to hips, and Bucky hums in pleasure at just how hot that press of bodies gets so quickly. He runs his hands up her back and down her sides, stroking Jessica's body with both flesh and metal. Soon enough, his touch slips down until he gets a nice firm grip on her tight rear end, pressing Jessica down a little onto the hard ridge still trapped in his boxers.