( ash tries not to be stung by his rejection. it's softened in part by how clearly upset bucky is, though that doesn't exactly serve as a comfort, because ash doesn't want him anything but happy. you're not real. sometimes ash feels that way, ephemeral, incapable of enacting any significant change with the time he's been given. but bucky has never made him feel like that — bucky has always been a world condensed into a person, two covers of a book and everything in between. the beginning and ending of everything.
still, ash isn't going to force him to be happy. if he were capable of doing that, maybe — as it is, he folds his hands into his jacket's pockets, tilting his head back and looking down at bucky, his natural stoicism coming in handy to hide any tumultuous feelings he has. honestly, ash hasn't felt like he's belonged anywhere on the property until he found bucky, and now he knows where his place is: a step ahead of him, demanding he kneels before his king.
you could fill the whole mansion with things ash wants. for now? he takes a step forward, knocking his shoes against bucky's, fisting a hand in the front of his shirt. )
I want a kiss. ( his hand moves up, cinching a bruising grip around bucky's chin. ) Then you can say I'm not real, James.
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still, ash isn't going to force him to be happy. if he were capable of doing that, maybe — as it is, he folds his hands into his jacket's pockets, tilting his head back and looking down at bucky, his natural stoicism coming in handy to hide any tumultuous feelings he has. honestly, ash hasn't felt like he's belonged anywhere on the property until he found bucky, and now he knows where his place is: a step ahead of him, demanding he kneels before his king.
you could fill the whole mansion with things ash wants. for now? he takes a step forward, knocking his shoes against bucky's, fisting a hand in the front of his shirt. )
I want a kiss. ( his hand moves up, cinching a bruising grip around bucky's chin. ) Then you can say I'm not real, James.