It’s not ownership. Well, it’s not just ownership. It’s you putting yourself willfully in the hands of another person. Not that I’m asking you for that, it’s just the principle of the matter. It’s different, from whatever happened to you.
Sex isn’t all about coming. In fact, coming is just a small part of it. You said you come a lot, right? Imagine building up all those orgasms into one big one. That’s partly why.
[The delay this time is due to him thinking it over again. Trying to figure out just how to respond. He could just brush this all off. Could keep his questions to himself, or take them to one of the few people here he trusts.
But then that means admitting to having this conversation in the first place. Means telling others just how far he's fallen behind over the last seventy-five years. There aren't the same pressures here to be the person they all remember. Here, he can just be.]
i don't know if it works that way never tried it holding off once is difficult enough
[The first part of Ash's message hasn't been ignored. But for a few more moments, there's just the signs of a another message being typed out. Something written and deleted a few times. A sign that he has more to say, but isn't sure how to word it. But at least he's trying?]
it's about control you said you should always have an out though how does that work if someone else is in charge?
You should give it a shot. You might like it. You can let me know how it goes.
( more a suggestion than an order, although he really would prefer to give the latter — it's evident to him that james is more skittish than not, and he isn't interested in making anyone uncomfortable. )
Any person worth sleeping with will respect your limits, and give you an out in the form of a safeword. Something unique to you, that you can say to bring an end to play. If your mouth is otherwise occupied, I like to use snapping. Some people find that easier than speaking aloud.
[It's the last part that gets his attention. That makes him think. Sure, there's a handful of people here that he trusts with his life. That he'd give everything for. But the idea of actually refusing anything they might ask for has never once crossed his mind. They're important to him. So he's never had any reason to question anything they've asked of him before.
Until right now.]
what if you don't know your limits? or if you're used to not being able to say no?
You start small, and push the envelope when you're more comfortable. Let me ask you something. Do you enjoy sex?
( a silly question at face value, but far more worthy of thought than people give credit. ash himself, what feels like ages ago, even thought he was asexual in his youth because he hadn't much liked sex, when the truth was that he only really liked a specific kind of sex, with someone he loved. it's not exactly conductive to living in duplicity — but he imagines the powers that be that brought them here didn't entirely consider sexual preference, sexual comfort, sexual trauma of their citizens. honestly, ash could split a molar with how badly it rubs him. )
If the answer is yes, that's good. It means there's a line between what you like, and what happened to you. We have to find that line, and decide if you want to press up against it, or stay far away from it. It's a personal choice. You have to think about what would be good for you, or at least trust someone else to know. I think talking it out is your best option. In which case — I'm listening. I know it's hard. I could tell you stories about how hard it is.
[It's a question he doesn't really have a straightforward answer to. Before, the answer would've been a resounding yes. Back when the only orders he'd had to follow were his own. But now-]
it depends there's some people here that i care about. i like having sex with them but before i came here it wasn't something i thought about
[There's more typing and deleting. More rewording. If he's gone this far, why hold out now? Especially with an offer like that on the table.]
i was caught. brainwashed they turned me in to their weapon and put me away in cryo till they needed someone gone
only got away from them a few years ago so i'm still figuring out what i like
( ash served in the army. he even rose ranks to major. it was in the war against carpathia, rather than nazi occupied germany — but he's seen terrors, boats lit on fire, the dead faces of teenagers he's killed. he's told mothers you're safe, now in polish, while dragging them away from their burning family homes, dead bodies inside.
one thing he's never done, is been caught. the thought makes his belly drop out, because. carpathian separatists are violent, have the potential to be irrevocably cruel, but they aren't nazis. jesus. )
Do you ever wish you could turn your brain off?
I served. Different war. They've really improved the machine guns, since the 40s. Most of the time I can't sleep, like the sound is still going off in my head. But it goes quiet when I have my focus on someone. When I dom them — not the cheap rendition of it that this city encourages, but the real thing. Taking care. That's my peace. I want you to find peace in it, too. It might not happen, there might be some other solution for you, but it's my hope. Because I can help you with that. And because I want to.
[It's an answer that comes quickly. Something he's wanted from the moment Project Insight failed. From the second he chose to walk away from Hydra and all they'd turned him in to. If he could just turn off his brain, then maybe he could find a way to be a real person again.]
don't think there's a way to fix it [Fix me.] after the stuff i've done it's better that way there's other people here who could use your help more anyway
I don't like doing the easy thing because it's easier. I have gut instinct. I always listen to it. You'll find that I'm pretty hard to shake, once I've convinced myself of something. So. I don't especially care if I should be helping other people. Maybe I will help them. Maybe I'll help everyone. I have every intention of doing the most amount of good that I can with the time I've been given. But I am going to help you, too. You just need to take that first step towards me. I'll cover the rest of it.
[Surprise surprise, there's yet another delay. Ash's words are read back over again. The message scrolled back to the very start as he tries to take it in with a fresh pair of eyes. Tries to come to a decision that he won't end up regretting.
( ash knows he should move forward with trepidation, but — it isn't exactly his style. he's more of the mentality to lay everything out on the table, with zero room for confusion. honestly. so — )
Agree to meet with me. We'll talk. If you like what I have to say, I'll dominate you. If not, you'll at least get a free lunch out of it.
( there’s less nice places in the down, but ash is more inclined to make james comfortable than force some kind of fancy get together. the food isn’t the point, anyway — he drops the location of some neutral cafe, and starts getting ready. )
[Despite the timeframe and the fact that he should really be scoping out the cafe first, Bucky ends up only barely making it in time. He'd been caught between not turning up at all, and calling Sam or Peggy to talk to them about it first. But in the end, all he'd ended up doing was leaving a scribbled note tucked under his pillow. A location, just in case this was all just some kind of a trick. And then he was off.
Which leads to now. With Bucky stood just outside the cafe, heavily considering his life choices. And how, for some insane reason, he now finds himself waiting to find out whether he wants to drop to his knees for a supposed President of the United States or not.
( punctual to the boot, ash makes it right on the money. most of his time was spent getting to the down, but he took a solid while to look nice for the occasion (a date), mostly because whatever gene people have that allows them to look comfortably sloppy, is not something ash was blessed with at birth. he arrives, black buttoned shirt artfully crisp, slacks tailored to fit, shoes shiny. he sticks out a little like a sore thumb in the down, but he seems unbothered — nodding politely at anyone who takes note of him, smiling in a way that doesn't reach his eyes, smelling like rich cologne and leather.
anyway, it's not especially hard to clock james when he sees him — by comparison, he blends seamlessly into the down, and ash has to wonder if that was on purpose. no matter. he could note a veteran at a distance, and there's something vaguely haunted to james' presence that seems to say steer clear, i know how to bite.
obviously, ash does nothing of the sort. he saunters up to him, extending a hand. )
[On the other end of the scale, the clothes Bucky's wearing make it all too obvious that the Down is his home. The clothing he'd first arrived with were meant for Wakandan heat, adapted to support his formerly missing limb. So replacing his wardrobe here had become something of a priority. But with only second (third? forth?) hand clothing available to him, his options had been limited. Being practical had been more important than being picky.
Which is why the coat he wears is a size too big. The gloves he dons a size too small. Nothing quite fits right, and yet he seems entirely at ease with it all. He lives out of a go bag here, same as he did when he was on the run. Every sign of himself tucked away in the same pack he carries with him now. He's ready to disappear without a trace, and it's an instinct he's fighting not to follow through on right now.
Up until the moment the silence is broken, and Bucky's attention snaps to the new arrival.
And promptly freezes.]
Ash.
[A statement rather than a question. But a distracted one nonetheless. This isn't Steve. He knows that. Would be able to tell them apart blindfolded. But that doesn't make this any less jarring. Doesn't make it any easier to stomach the fact that he had a conversation like that with his best friend's doppelganger. Though rather than explain quite why he's staring so intently at the other man, Bucky instead pulls out his phone. Flicks his gaze between Ash's face and the screen more than once as he pulls up a picture instead.]
( it's not difficult to note the obvious discomfort in james — it was there before ash approached, but it rankles to uncomfortable heights once he makes himself known, hand awkwardly extended between them. obviously something is wrong, although there's very little ash can do to soothe whatever it is, given that he has no idea what he's fighting against. he's seen cornered lions look less combative than james right now, a fact that is as bothersome as it is enticing. ash, after all, is not the type to back down from anything. if anything, he appreciates a challenge.
he catches a glimpse at james' phone screen, but doesn't pry. his eyes flicker down and back up, hardening when they find his eyes — his own are bottle green, concealing the faint twitch of irritation in the iris. )
Are you going to shake my hand?
( he's been here, before. with a man he loves, who doesn't love him — a man who wouldn't shake his hand, so ash got push-ups instead, his foot pressing down at the center of his back. he's halfway to demanding it from james too, just to see if he would.
but, he's still trying to fix this. so, for now, he's on his best behavior — a ledge that is precariously thin. )
[Despite the prompting, despite the hand still offered out, all Bucky does is slap his phone in to it. Is share the explanation that had him stopping short in the first place. He knows he owes the man that much. That they whole reason they're here in the first place is because Ash is offering him something. A way out of his own head. Answers to questions he doesn't know how to ask yet. So he should at least be trying.
He doesn't break eye contact at first though. Doesn't look away no matter how much he wants to do exactly that. Both Steve and Ash have seen war, sure. But they both carry it differently. Both display their past actions in different ways. It's the look in his eyes. The set in his body. Ash is nowhere near the copy of his best friend that outsiders would see them as. Yet it's still enough of a similarity to have his guard drop a little. Enough to take the edge off of what would otherwise be an awkward encounter. A enough of a prompt for him to finally offer up a quiet-]
...Bucky. Most people call me Bucky.
[His gaze drops away at that, shifting to their feet, across to the cafe.]
Ain't so good with the whole formal thing.
[Handshakes, that is. But depending on what Ash is expecting from him here, it feels like a point worth making.]
( it isn't the first time he's been told he looks so much like someone else that it's uncanny, but it is the first time he's actually seeing this other person. steve. it's strange. ash stares at the phone for awhile, his expression kept carefully blank, taking in what he can from the two of them poised together. they must be close, he figures, if james — if bucky is comfortable enough to be nestled with him. he doesn't seem like the type to easily fit into a space someone provides him, unless he's sure it was made for him. so — they must be really close, then. like brothers.
his mind wanders immediately back to embry. brothers, right. there's no telling if their relationship is the same as his and embry's had been, but — it feels reflective. he and bucky, and their golden boys.
ash passes his phone back with a curt nod, all of it full with understanding. )
He calls you Bucky. ( it's not exactly a question. but then — ash doesn't mind the thought of acting as someone else in due time, if it's what bucky needs. carefully, he pats bucky solidly on the shoulder. ) Well, it's rude not to shake someone's hand, but I'll get over it, somehow. Let's sit.
( he takes the lead in through the doors, possibly to give bucky the chance to run away when his back is turned. in any case, he secures a table for the two of them and waits, turning every chair he sits upon into a throne. )
[Unlike before, there's no hesitation this time. No reason for him to hold back. So when Ash heads in to the cafe, Bucky follows after him almost immediately. With a stomach like his, he could say that the offer of food is an easy motivation. That living off of the levels of food this city grants Submissives isn't all that conductive to a super soldier's actual needs. But really, it's the other man from the picture who meets that need. Constant raids of Steve's fridge being enough to fill that void.
What Ash is offering though...]
Do I have to ask your permission or something?
[To take the empty seat that he's stood next to. He's been through Orientation. Has see what the city expects from them. And while everything Ash has said to him so far doesn't quite line up with the values they've tried to instill in him during his time here, it feels right to ask. Better to voice those questions than to let them eat away at him. It's what got him in to this situation in the first place. So why waste the opportunity to get the answers he needs now?]
( smiling is sometimes rare for ash — not that he's a sad person, but he is serious, like his body never really learned how to flash a smile that didn't belong on the cover of the new york times, first as a proclaimed war hero, and then again as the first third party president of the united states. still, it's a genuine one that he cracks at bucky, at the offer. to be honest, he's perfectly tickled by it, the hidden promise inside — it was difficult to get a read on him over text completely, but now ash feels like he can see the pages of his book spread, in a bold font. he wants to be considered worthwhile, a worthy investment. he wants to be praised for something other than a terrible job well done.
which is a relatable enough desire, that ash feels a kinship to him — though ash's story doesn't involve the severity of bucky's landmine mind. he doesn't make him wait long, giving a gesture to the chair. )
You'll note that wasn't actually asking permission. ( but he's endeared, not pissed, and his eyes sparkle accordingly. ) You can have a seat. All that will come after we come to an agreement.
( he thinks about his wording, smile drooping a little, before he nods. ash is very good at forgetting to ask for permission, at just assuming the world lives on the tips of his fingers. )
Well, I hope we'll come to an agreement, in any case. By the way — do you have any allergies? I like ordering for other people.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[Well, as long as he has a choice. But he fought to be free, and he isn't about to go back to that willingly.]
what's the point in getting hard if you can't come?
kinda seems
counterproductive
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It’s you putting yourself willfully in the hands of another person. Not that I’m asking you for that, it’s just the principle of the matter.
It’s different, from whatever happened to you.
Sex isn’t all about coming. In fact, coming is just a small part of it.
You said you come a lot, right? Imagine building up all those orgasms into one big one.
That’s partly why.
1/2
But then that means admitting to having this conversation in the first place. Means telling others just how far he's fallen behind over the last seventy-five years. There aren't the same pressures here to be the person they all remember. Here, he can just be.]
i don't know if it works that way
never tried it
holding off once is difficult enough
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it's about control
you said you should always have an out though
how does that work if someone else is in charge?
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You can let me know how it goes.
( more a suggestion than an order, although he really would prefer to give the latter — it's evident to him that james is more skittish than not, and he isn't interested in making anyone uncomfortable. )
Any person worth sleeping with will respect your limits, and give you an out in the form of a safeword. Something unique to you, that you can say to bring an end to play.
If your mouth is otherwise occupied, I like to use snapping. Some people find that easier than speaking aloud.
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Until right now.]
what if you don't know your limits?
or if you're used to not being able to say no?
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Let me ask you something.
Do you enjoy sex?
( a silly question at face value, but far more worthy of thought than people give credit. ash himself, what feels like ages ago, even thought he was asexual in his youth because he hadn't much liked sex, when the truth was that he only really liked a specific kind of sex, with someone he loved. it's not exactly conductive to living in duplicity — but he imagines the powers that be that brought them here didn't entirely consider sexual preference, sexual comfort, sexual trauma of their citizens. honestly, ash could split a molar with how badly it rubs him. )
If the answer is yes, that's good. It means there's a line between what you like, and what happened to you.
We have to find that line, and decide if you want to press up against it, or stay far away from it. It's a personal choice. You have to think about what would be good for you, or at least trust someone else to know.
I think talking it out is your best option. In which case — I'm listening. I know it's hard.
I could tell you stories about how hard it is.
( as much an offer as it is a consolation. )
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it depends
there's some people here that i care about. i like having sex with them
but before i came here it wasn't something i thought about
[There's more typing and deleting. More rewording. If he's gone this far, why hold out now? Especially with an offer like that on the table.]
i was caught. brainwashed
they turned me in to their weapon and put me away in cryo till they needed someone gone
only got away from them a few years ago so i'm still figuring out what i like
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one thing he's never done, is been caught. the thought makes his belly drop out, because. carpathian separatists are violent, have the potential to be irrevocably cruel, but they aren't nazis. jesus. )
Do you ever wish you could turn your brain off?
I served. Different war.
They've really improved the machine guns, since the 40s. Most of the time I can't sleep, like the sound is still going off in my head.
But it goes quiet when I have my focus on someone. When I dom them — not the cheap rendition of it that this city encourages, but the real thing. Taking care. That's my peace.
I want you to find peace in it, too. It might not happen, there might be some other solution for you, but it's my hope. Because I can help you with that. And because I want to.
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[It's an answer that comes quickly. Something he's wanted from the moment Project Insight failed. From the second he chose to walk away from Hydra and all they'd turned him in to. If he could just turn off his brain, then maybe he could find a way to be a real person again.]
don't think there's a way to fix it [Fix me.]
after the stuff i've done it's better that way
there's other people here who could use your help more anyway
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So. I don't especially care if I should be helping other people. Maybe I will help them. Maybe I'll help everyone. I have every intention of doing the most amount of good that I can with the time I've been given.
But I am going to help you, too. You just need to take that first step towards me. I'll cover the rest of it.
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And in the end-]
what do you want me to do?
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Agree to meet with me. We'll talk.
If you like what I have to say, I'll dominate you.
If not, you'll at least get a free lunch out of it.
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name the time and place
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I changed my mind.
It’s dinner. Tonight.
Is Up or Down better for you?
( maybe it’s his first lesson in knowing ash, anyway. they work on his timetable. )
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got a mark down my throat though
if it's the up you need to sign off on me being there
[Something he'd feel a whole lot more uncomfortable saying if they weren't meeting up for a very specific reason.]
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( there’s less nice places in the down, but ash is more inclined to make james comfortable than force some kind of fancy get together. the food isn’t the point, anyway — he drops the location of some neutral cafe, and starts getting ready. )
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Which leads to now. With Bucky stood just outside the cafe, heavily considering his life choices. And how, for some insane reason, he now finds himself waiting to find out whether he wants to drop to his knees for a supposed President of the United States or not.
...yeah, his life is strange.]
» action
anyway, it's not especially hard to clock james when he sees him — by comparison, he blends seamlessly into the down, and ash has to wonder if that was on purpose. no matter. he could note a veteran at a distance, and there's something vaguely haunted to james' presence that seems to say steer clear, i know how to bite.
obviously, ash does nothing of the sort. he saunters up to him, extending a hand. )
James?
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Which is why the coat he wears is a size too big. The gloves he dons a size too small. Nothing quite fits right, and yet he seems entirely at ease with it all. He lives out of a go bag here, same as he did when he was on the run. Every sign of himself tucked away in the same pack he carries with him now. He's ready to disappear without a trace, and it's an instinct he's fighting not to follow through on right now.
Up until the moment the silence is broken, and Bucky's attention snaps to the new arrival.
And promptly freezes.]
Ash.
[A statement rather than a question. But a distracted one nonetheless. This isn't Steve. He knows that. Would be able to tell them apart blindfolded. But that doesn't make this any less jarring. Doesn't make it any easier to stomach the fact that he had a conversation like that with his best friend's doppelganger. Though rather than explain quite why he's staring so intently at the other man, Bucky instead pulls out his phone. Flicks his gaze between Ash's face and the screen more than once as he pulls up a picture instead.]
This city is a goddamned joke.
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he catches a glimpse at james' phone screen, but doesn't pry. his eyes flicker down and back up, hardening when they find his eyes — his own are bottle green, concealing the faint twitch of irritation in the iris. )
Are you going to shake my hand?
( he's been here, before. with a man he loves, who doesn't love him — a man who wouldn't shake his hand, so ash got push-ups instead, his foot pressing down at the center of his back. he's halfway to demanding it from james too, just to see if he would.
but, he's still trying to fix this. so, for now, he's on his best behavior — a ledge that is precariously thin. )
I don't see what's so funny.
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He doesn't break eye contact at first though. Doesn't look away no matter how much he wants to do exactly that. Both Steve and Ash have seen war, sure. But they both carry it differently. Both display their past actions in different ways. It's the look in his eyes. The set in his body. Ash is nowhere near the copy of his best friend that outsiders would see them as. Yet it's still enough of a similarity to have his guard drop a little. Enough to take the edge off of what would otherwise be an awkward encounter. A enough of a prompt for him to finally offer up a quiet-]
...Bucky. Most people call me Bucky.
[His gaze drops away at that, shifting to their feet, across to the cafe.]
Ain't so good with the whole formal thing.
[Handshakes, that is. But depending on what Ash is expecting from him here, it feels like a point worth making.]
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his mind wanders immediately back to embry. brothers, right. there's no telling if their relationship is the same as his and embry's had been, but — it feels reflective. he and bucky, and their golden boys.
ash passes his phone back with a curt nod, all of it full with understanding. )
He calls you Bucky. ( it's not exactly a question. but then — ash doesn't mind the thought of acting as someone else in due time, if it's what bucky needs. carefully, he pats bucky solidly on the shoulder. ) Well, it's rude not to shake someone's hand, but I'll get over it, somehow. Let's sit.
( he takes the lead in through the doors, possibly to give bucky the chance to run away when his back is turned. in any case, he secures a table for the two of them and waits, turning every chair he sits upon into a throne. )
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What Ash is offering though...]
Do I have to ask your permission or something?
[To take the empty seat that he's stood next to. He's been through Orientation. Has see what the city expects from them. And while everything Ash has said to him so far doesn't quite line up with the values they've tried to instill in him during his time here, it feels right to ask. Better to voice those questions than to let them eat away at him. It's what got him in to this situation in the first place. So why waste the opportunity to get the answers he needs now?]
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which is a relatable enough desire, that ash feels a kinship to him — though ash's story doesn't involve the severity of bucky's landmine mind. he doesn't make him wait long, giving a gesture to the chair. )
You'll note that wasn't actually asking permission. ( but he's endeared, not pissed, and his eyes sparkle accordingly. ) You can have a seat. All that will come after we come to an agreement.
( he thinks about his wording, smile drooping a little, before he nods. ash is very good at forgetting to ask for permission, at just assuming the world lives on the tips of his fingers. )
Well, I hope we'll come to an agreement, in any case. By the way — do you have any allergies? I like ordering for other people.
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