c o n t a c t

[bracchium]

желание I know you are the answer, but I forgot the question.	печь There will always be a lie in believe.
один Whatever is static is dead.	рассвет The world is too quiet.

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

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[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ He breathes in and out not quite in sync with Bucky, feeling some of the heaviness bleed back out again. Sam's getting used to this, just about, the back and forth between them where the tension can ramp up when they hit each other's buttons, when Sam pushes Bucky a little too much or Bucky pulls back a little too hard - but then they even out, things settle down and are almost easy between them.

Bucky is honestly better at doing this with him than some other people Sam's known, and he doesn't bother to hide that feeling.

At this point, well. Sam figures he's pretty much at risk whether Bucky does his figuring out alone or with support - he's figured that for almost three years, and he's had plenty of time to reconsider and back out. Hasn't yet, and he's got no plans to change that. He doesn't want Bucky to do this alone when they could work together. ]

I'm making you Bucky with the good hair, that's what I'm doing. [ He finishes off another braid with one of the last of his feathers, tucking it behind Bucky's ear. ] Bursts of sunshine, the pair of us, that's why we gotta do this back here.

[bracchium]

[Bucky with the good hair. He can deal with that, he thinks. He jumps a little at the touch to his ear, but re-focuses on his breathing. The process of braiding is calming in and of itself, the gentle tugs another source of sensations to ground himself. With the curtain of hair finally drawn back, he can see more of the world. It reminds him of Bucharest and one reason why he wore caps. Braids will be much easier to manage when it comes to hygiene, too.

He can't be who he used to be, maybe, but he could be the Bucky with the good hair.

Compared to where he started, it's a step in the right direction.]

Otherwise we might blind someone.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Honestly, sitting like this and running his fingers through Bucky’s hair, focusing on the strands slipping through his hands and the press of the feathers, on getting the braids just right - it’s grounding for Sam, too. He feels comfortable with Bucky when they’re like this, and though he’s trusted him to some degree for a while, he’s not sure when that happened. The brood bond between them hums at the back of his mind, quiet and content.

Sam tries not to notice how it feels like belonging, like something like home - but honestly, even without the connection, the comfort would be the same.

He laughs at Bucky’s comment, quiet but delighted all the same. ]

Damn right. Gonna have to start calling you sunshine now, huh?

[bracchium]

[Bucky lets out a chuckle, bright and unbridled in his surprise. He's had many nicknames in his collection of pasted together memories, but nothing quite like this. Sunshine. That may have better suited him in the past, but now that he's Bucky with the good hair, he can be Sunshine, too.]

Sunshine?

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sunshine.

[ His tone is a cross between teasing and pleased, and his smile is the same. Sam's bounced around between ice related nicknames for Bucky, yeah, but he likes this one. He thinks he might keep it. ]

If I pretend like it's taking me a long time to do these last couple of braids, will you sit with me a while? I'm getting too old to get up off the floor quickly.

[ Look, Sam's comfortable like this, all right. ]

[bracchium]

[Bucky won't admit it out loud, but he likes having his hair braided, likes being touched. It makes him feel more human and less like the Soldier. He's more than happy to blame the continued touch on Sam,though. That part helps him cope with getting something he wants. So, he settles in a touch more, relaxing under the gentle ministrations.]

Think I can manage.