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Jun. 9th, 2011 09:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
prodigaljaybird"Fuck."
It's an odd thing to be upset about, coming home in the wee hours of the morning to find a light in the hut already on.
It's not like Bucky doesn't know he sneaks out most nights. And it's not like Jason doesn't know he knows, but still, he tries to do the things that will make Bucky respect him, still subconsciously afraid that he'll fuck it up somehow, that Bucky will decide what Bruce did and cut him loose, and Jason doesn't want to fucking go, not again. So he does dorky things like his homework, like going to some classes he'd really rather cut, like pretending he's not living in sin or whatever half the time with his girlfriend.
But if the light's on, the jig is up, and shit, what if Bucky actually wants to talk about it this time, what if this is it, and Jason slows to a halt on the front porch, heart hot and rising up in his throat.
Maybe he should lie. Pretend there's some bullshit emergency that called him away, but Bucky'd know. He should just go in. Be brave, at least, if he can't be good.
"Uh," he says, too loud in his nervousness when he shoves through the door, "hey, I just - "
Jason stops dead. Bucky's nowhere in sight, but in the lamplight Jason can see broken bits of furniture through his open door, and at the table, a woman Jason's never seen before.
That she's stunning doesn't give Jason even a moment's pause. Whatever gorgeous body she might possess is secondary to the fact that it's wrapped in nothing more than one of Bucky's shirts, that she's sitting at their table, drinking out of Bucky's cup, and there's every evidence of a fight.
Jason's a faster draw with his right hand than his left, but that doesn't stop the batarang from popping between his fingers in half the blink of an eye.
It's an odd thing to be upset about, coming home in the wee hours of the morning to find a light in the hut already on.
It's not like Bucky doesn't know he sneaks out most nights. And it's not like Jason doesn't know he knows, but still, he tries to do the things that will make Bucky respect him, still subconsciously afraid that he'll fuck it up somehow, that Bucky will decide what Bruce did and cut him loose, and Jason doesn't want to fucking go, not again. So he does dorky things like his homework, like going to some classes he'd really rather cut, like pretending he's not living in sin or whatever half the time with his girlfriend.
But if the light's on, the jig is up, and shit, what if Bucky actually wants to talk about it this time, what if this is it, and Jason slows to a halt on the front porch, heart hot and rising up in his throat.
Maybe he should lie. Pretend there's some bullshit emergency that called him away, but Bucky'd know. He should just go in. Be brave, at least, if he can't be good.
"Uh," he says, too loud in his nervousness when he shoves through the door, "hey, I just - "
Jason stops dead. Bucky's nowhere in sight, but in the lamplight Jason can see broken bits of furniture through his open door, and at the table, a woman Jason's never seen before.
That she's stunning doesn't give Jason even a moment's pause. Whatever gorgeous body she might possess is secondary to the fact that it's wrapped in nothing more than one of Bucky's shirts, that she's sitting at their table, drinking out of Bucky's cup, and there's every evidence of a fight.
Jason's a faster draw with his right hand than his left, but that doesn't stop the batarang from popping between his fingers in half the blink of an eye.
