zimnij_soldat | 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.

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[OOC: I apologize for having disappeared. RL and work decided to completely blow up on me. It's taking a bit to get back into the swing of things, but I'm here. And if it's been a bit too long, I totally understand.]

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.

[ ; NP shit happens! Here too, clearly. Backtags are good in perpetuity n my laggy response shouldn't be nearly so long a wait next time ]

There's a bad joke to be had there but if he hasn't been burdened by modern-yet-woefully-outdated "in Soviet Russia" remarks yet, she's not the one to acclimate him there.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?"

If he could read her mind, Bucky would be pointing out even more ways that the two of them weren't all that different-- hard luck cases with a habit of hanging onto the worst kinds of memories and experiences. But Jessica would also be right about how they both preferred to avoid, avoid, avoid. Like he was doing by responding to Jessica's leer with one of his own.

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.

She shrugs and lets him take care of her jeans in the interest of expediency and combing her fingers through his hair, from the crown of his head to the back of his skull. Jess is idly curious which one of them is faster but comparing stats on their respective bootleg Captain America treatments couldn't sound any less sexy, and if the shit ever goes down, they're sure to find out. But who knows, maybe this will be the one superfriend she fucks without fucking over, deliberately or otherwise. But knowing her luck.

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.

Somewhere, Bucky's sure, there's a computer with a database on everyone in the world like them that's ever made any kind of news, and it could easily do a few million calculations and give odds on which one of them would win a half-naked footrace around his apartment. But that's way less fun than actually doing it, and honestly, he's much more in the mood to skip to the post-race festivities.

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.

That elicits a soft snort. "'Have my way with you,'" Jess paraphrases as she straddles him and combs her hand free from his hair. It's fairly soft so she adopts an idle motion of raking her fingers through it.

"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.

[OOC: I am so sorry for the delay in this tag. Basically, my brain decided to more or less shut down anything creative for a while, and I'm just now starting to climb out of that hole. I know it's been a while, and if you'd rather pass on continuing, I totally understand.]

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.

Being Neighborly [for underachievment]

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