[closed] See the way you hold yourself

[anotheroldsoldier]

who: Bucky Barnes [616] and Yuri Plisetsky
what: The day after his surprise birthday party, Yuri has Anger Issues.
when: 4/12, early morning
where: A gym near the housing building.
warnings: Feelings.


[It's early, barely 5:30 in the morning, and the sky is still dark, but Bucky Barnes has been awake for at least an hour. He took his run alone today, but he has a standing appointment at the gym with Yuri for most mornings, including today. The gym he frequents is well-equipped, but quiet - the customer base mostly save their workouts for the evenings after work, which is why he likes it so much.

Waiting on Yuri to arrive, no doubt after his own run, he's spread out on the mat going through some deep stretches, loosening up for the workout to come. He's thinking maybe some acrobatics today, some time on the pommel horse and the rings perhaps, but generally, Bucky wings it with the program. He's flexible - both figuratively and literally, looking at ease in his stretches, loose and casual. His hair is still damp with sweat from his run, but he's shed his track jacket for just his sweatpants, socks, and a thin tank-top.

Bending into a lunge on the mats, he checks the clock again, but that's when he hears the door clang shut.]

Comments

[anotheroldsoldier]

[Bucky catches a pin from the parts Yuri throws down, before it can roll too far away and get lost, but he doesn't scold or mention the burst of anger. It only takes him a handful of minutes to reassemble the firearm and slide it aside for now. Then he leans back on his hands as he watches the kid slamming his hand into the wall once, twice, three times.]

Are they from an alternate timeline? One where they wind up at this space ship? [A pause. Thinking about the logistics, if their version of home might be destroyed, then maybe being here is the end of their line. But it isn't for Yuri.] That is fucked.

[bespredel]

It is fucked. [ Yuri's voice broke, his fist slamming the wall one last time, his shoulders shaking as his eyes began to well. Furious, ashamed, he pushed at his face and sucked in sharp, heavy breaths. Trying to calm himself down, keeping his back to the other, not wanting James to see him getting this emotional. Not that it was any great secret, given the way he couldn't seem to stop shaking, couldn't quite manage to get his breathing under his own control. ]

I don't know. They just said they got pulled onto a ship. With another Yuri. [ His stomach twisted and clenched, and it felt like it had last night- like he had been stabbed in the gut, the heart, and the blades were being twisted viciously inside of him. ]

How do you stand it? [ His voice was so small, his posture slumping, sinking to his knees, his forehead hitting the wall- followed by his fist. Not even halfheartedly beaten against it's unyeilding surface this time. ]

Knowing there is another you. Not just out there but- knowing you're not what they want. Not what they expected... I can't... [ He squeezed his eyes shut, twin hot, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he stuttered for breath. ]

[anotheroldsoldier]

[Bucky pulls himself to his feet, but he doesn't move closer just yet, letting Yuri work out the dregs of his anger, push through it to the heart of what's bothering him. Another Yuri. So this is what has him tied up in knots inside. Bucky gets it, to an extent - learning that there was another Bucky Barnes here was an unexpected experience. Maybe it should bother him more, but they're so different that it's been easier and easier to separate them in his mind. They barely even keep the same social circles here, like a dance, carefully avoiding stepping on each other's toes.

That doesn't mean Yuri will have an easier time with it. He approaches the kid after a few minutes, after he starts to fold in on himself, and kneels next to him, reaching out his right hand to rest his fingers lightly against his shoulder, unsure how much touch is welcome at the moment.]

It's... complicated. [He finally says, voice level but heavy.] There's no right or easy way to deal with other timelines. Other universes. I ain't got a guidebook for this kinda thing.

C'mere, look at me. I can tell you one thing. You don't have to be their Yuri. You don't have to be what they expect, or what they want. If they got a problem with you, I'll knock their heads together myself. [He says it calmly, but there's a current of truth in it, vehemence. He will do it.]

You only gotta worry about - and I know this sounds cheesy as hell, alright? - you only gotta worry about being yourself. A thing I learned over the years is, you can't define yourself by other people. Not even other versions of yourself.

[bespredel]

[ His hands ached, his knuckles well and truly bleeding now. They were already starting to purple with bruising, and as the flames of his anger began to fall, reducing to a low simmer he became more and more aware of the ache of them. Uncurling his fists at last cause him to wince, his fingers feeling splintered, even though he knew he hadn't broken anything.

At the other's request, he made a soft noise of protest. Not wanting to, ashamed, now, of how viciously emotional he had been. Sure, he was prone to outbursts- always angry- but this was different. It was something more visceral, and far more personal than his usual acerbic tendencies. ]

I just want... [ He started, but stopped, shaking his head weakly, before finally turning his head to look at the other- looking stricken. Hurt, and small. ]

And if that's not good enough? [ He asked, feeling carved hollow, his voice weak and soft.

As much as Yuri hated to admit it, he worked hard to please others.
He always had. If it wasn't working to make his grandfather proud,
then it was to prove Yakov wrong, to prove to Viktor he was worthwhile, to convince him to choreograph his short program, and then to show that he was better than Katsudon. And if what he was- who he was... wasn't enough?

He was lost. ]

[anotheroldsoldier]

[And if that's not good enough?

The words hit him directly in a hurt of his own, deep down, and he exhales a breath like it's been punched out of him. Those thoughts echo a lot of his own thoughts about himself, past and present. They don't look the same, and they don't have the same experiences, but it's like looking in a mirror all the same.] Oh, kiddo. [He gets medicinal wipes from the first aid kit and draws Yuri back to the mats to sit, taking one of his hands to inspect the damage and wipe away some of the blood. His metal hand is just as careful as the flesh one.]

I... know how hard it can be. To feel like you're living in someone else's shadow, tryin' to live up to the world's expectations. [He blows out another breath like he's trying to get his thoughts together, struggling for the words to say. Struggling with the decision whether or not to reveal his own vulnerabilities and soft, easily-hurt bits.] I never wanted to be Captain America. That was always Steve, to me. To the rest of the world, too. Tryin' to fill his shoes, tryin' to be him... I can't do it.

I still have days thinkin' I'm not good enough. I don't know if those thoughts ever go away. [He closes his eyes for a moment and drags a hand through his damp hair.] You just... gotta do what you need to do, and not try to be someone you can't be.

All I can really tell you is that here, with me, you're enough.