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[A part of him, small and used to HYDRA protocol, waited for the reprimand and the thought that he would need some kind of alterations in order to continue to be useful. The larger aspect of him that had dealt with Rumlow solely for the last two months accepted that his handler would not take him to task over events that were beyond his control. For all that they had been through here, Rumlow had never physically taken him to task or created new means to keep control of him, though he was certain that Hell had all manner of ways to do so.]

Edward. Steve. Ash. Sometimes Chase. [He shuffled his shoulders and bunkered down on top of Rumlow again, though half of his weight was his hips and legs which were between Rumlow's. At least there was a reasonable explanation to why he was experiencing these states of disruption.]

I won't be as effective if I remember. Isn't that why HYDRA keeps me as a blank slate? Memories will take away my focus and allow for distraction?

[The first two names weren't surprising. The third, somewhat. He'd remembered the Soldier's outburst and vehemence over the android's sentence (or lack thereof). The last made him wonder if the kid reminded the Soldier of his youth. Perhaps less impetuous or murderous, though. Rumlow didn't know.]

That's partially true, yes, but I don't share the same convictions. They don't wipe my memories and I'm an effective agent, yeah?

[Rumlow's hands slid down to the small of the Soldier's back, fingers entwining together.]

The only thing that matters to me is your loyalty, like I said. If you know that, you understand your mission. Let that guide you as much as any order does.

[He was digging himself deeper, Rumlow knew. If the Soldier should ever shift that loyalty to another entity (namely Rogers), he would be fucked, giving him this advice. But it was true, and it was what he was going with. It was his gamble to make.]

[He nodded his head, the usual odd unknotting of his chest happening at the declaration. Rumlow wasn't going to find a way to stilt his memories from coming back, was accepting that they were going to be a part of him and his commander was confident that he would continue to be an effective contributor to the mission.]

I'm loyal. [That was an aspect of himself that seemed to span back for as long as he had been alive. He was fiercely loyal to whatever person, place or cause that he had taken up, and that would not stop.] If I get my memories back, do you suppose I'll be able to make friends?

I know you are. [Rumlow said, rubbing his face against the Soldier. Another reassurance. Let the Soldier feel acknowledged, accepted. The affection, Rumlow knew, wouldn't hurt either.] You've shown me nothing but.

[Rumlow shifted slightly then, hands rubbing back up the Soldier's body, palms splaying above his wounds.]

As far as making friends... [Rumlow's lips quirked and he chuckled.] You're making them now, aren't you? It can't hurt if you discover you have more common ground in getting your memories back, but you're no less able to cultivate relationships now. We have, after all.

Good, I want that to be established with you. [That was important, to have the trust and confidence of his commander. His sole sense of complete order when everything briefly felt beyond his reach.

He shifted his hands to cage Rumlow in between them, pushing himself up slightly into the hands that stroked his back. He sighed softly at the proxy touch just beyond the lacerations on his shoulders.]

No. Friends require some form of experience to relate to. At present, aside from my physical being and skill set, I have no ability to level with people and form shared experience. [He noted he couldn't even have that with Steve who had apparently been his best friend. They were awkward together at times; he felt it even if he couldn't acknowledge it.]

[It was always tough not to let things like this this shift towards something sexual. The Soldier just had a way with getting Rumlow going. The way he responded to him, his pliant nature and almost coy requests for attention were maddeningly hot. Even just a simple thing like the way he pushed up against Rumlow's hands was appealing. Rumlow's fingers pressed against him in response, a gentle dig into the edge of the wounds.]

You're judging too quickly. Do you think there aren't others out there with experiences similar to yours? Take me for example. We were both taken in by HYDRA, both trained to be killers, both trained to be loyal. And here we are. In a relationship. Sure, no one you meet is going to have the exact same life as you, but there's always something. You're not wrong that experience is necessary, but negating what you have, even if it's not particularly social, isn't fair to yourself.

[Rumlow shifted his legs and tangled his feet around the Soldier's ankles.]

Give yourself some credit, Bucky. You've done well with what you have.

I wouldn't know. [It wasn't as if he had gone searching across the network asking of anyone else had a forcible state of amnesia that allowed them to commit mass murder at the whims of the organization that he had dedicated himself to. How many limbo cases were there with a similar story to his own?] Yes, but our current difference is that you remember for the both of us.

[Though, he wondered why the words 'in a relationship' made a shiver run down his spine and his head bow forward as if he might nuzzle Rumlow. It seemed inappropriate given the depth and subject matter of their current topic of conversation. In response, he raised his feet to accommodate the wrap of Rumlow's feet.]

I wasn't allowed to have friends before here. I might not even know what it's like to have a friend anymore.

[The Soldier had a point there, but his own wasn't invalid because of it. He pursed his lips and opened his mouth to speak again when the Soldier shifted above him. Rumlow shut it and let him finish. Once he had, he had something better to say.]

And I'm not your friend?

[Sure they had a few other titles too, but Rumlow was pretty sure he could reasonably call the Soldier a 'friend.' He met all the criteria, after all. Enjoyed spending time with him, trusted him, invested in him. That was as good as a friend ever really was with him.]

[The question stilled him, though he was not particularly tense. No more than what was required to keep his weight from bearing down on Rumlow again anyway. That question stumped him because Rumlow had dripped the honey phrase of a relationship to him, but they had not defined what kind of relationship that happened to be. A single date, a night in the warmth and sleeping over... that almost made them lovers, right? Relationship details needed to come with its own kind of road map.]

Is that what we are?

[He asked because he had nothing more to give. He didn't entirely know what they were to each other and thus relied on Rumlow to know for him to some degree. He wasn't certain that he could even reliably be trusted with the idea of friendship at this point, what with living so many years as a 'thing'.]

[The hesitance was obvious and Rumlow thought he knew what it was from. He reached a hand up to bury in the Soldier's hair, giving him a few affectionate pets.]

One of the things we are, in any case.

[Of course their relationship of weapon and handler was still in place, even if it wasn't the same as it had been to start. Lover was fairly accurate, even if they'd never really fucked. Friend was the most accurate and also the one he had expected the Soldier to appreciate most. Would he have preferred lover, Rumlow wondered.]

[His head dropped so that he could bury his face into the side of Rumlow's neck, letting the wash of little tugs and stroking along his scalp to wash away many questioning thoughts.]

So we're more than one title?

[That might not have answered the question, but it eased his thoughts to know that maybe he hadn't been quite as confused as he had first thought. He nuzzled against Rumlow's neck in response, pleased.]

[The petting continued, along with a little nuzzling as Rumlow tipped his head down. It was comfortable, this position, the way he had the asset tucked into the crook of his neck, their bodies slotted together perfectly. The blood was mostly dry now, at least.]

Well sure. Guess you can pick and choose the one you want to use.

[Rumlow had never really been the labeling type. He got that the Soldier liked having concrete definitions, though. For him, each title suited different situations. Some would be told the Soldier was his lover, others his friend et cetera. It was strategic, like everything else he did.]

[He nodded his head, aware that he would understand all of this the more that he was once again exposed to it. He supposed that it was once again time to plant himself somewhere to people watch.]

Wherever the titles are applicable.

[He sighed and rubbed his cheek against the side of Rumlow's neck before easing up again, looking around the room. As much as snuggling was valued and wanted, he had come to understand the value of privacy and already he had disturbed Rumlow enough.]

I'll go and get a wet cloth to clean us up and then head back to my room.

[When the Soldier lifted his head, Rumlow's brows knit together, wondering what he was looking for. His hands tightened around him when he said he was going to leave. Rumlow wasn't having any of that. Cleaning up, fine, but leaving? Nah. Even if he didn't like it, Rumlow kind of liked to sleep, and that wasn't going to happen when he was at the mercy of the monster underneath his bed.]

We can clean up, but you don't have to leave. I like having you with me.

[He'd admit that sooner than say he didn't want to be alone with that thing.]

[He looked at Rumlow and knitted his brow in return, nodding to accept that it seemed that he would be spending the rest of the night settled in Rumlow's bed. A part of him resisted the idea because it would involve having to explain why he was covered in blood all over again in the morning. He could see his little ballerina practicing lithe movements in the corner, watching him with a coy look not suitable for a small child.]

Alright, I'll get a cloth and be right back then.

[He eased his way out of his commander's grip and stood, heading for the bathroom down the hall to grab a cloth and wetting it in the sink there. He eyed the little red-head who lurked in the doorway, washing off his chest of her blood as quickly as he could and then rinsing the cloth out to take back to Rumlow. He stepped into the bedroom again and offered the damp cloth to his commander.]

[He took the cloth and gestured for the Soldier to sit next to him, having already pushed himself to the edge of the bed. He waited until he had before starting in on him. Probably ought to have done himself first, since he had less of a mess, but the Soldier got first treatment more often than not, he noticed. Pressing the cloth to his chest, Rumlow began rubbing it in circles, the blood smearing off and collecting on the fabric.]

Did you want to leave?

[He asks, tilting his head up to peer at the Soldier as he continued to wipe off the mess.]

[He took the spot left open for him and seated on the edge of the bed, glancing around Rumlow's room. It hadn't changed since he had been in here last, but he was always interested in how his commander lived. Not much different from the Hive, though there was less of the inherent dirt and ruin that came from that place.

Turning his head just so, he could watch Rumlow wash out of the corner of his eye.]

No. It just seemed inappropriate and maybe be perceived as needy if I'm constantly in here.

I don't think you're needy, Bucky.

[Far from it. If anything, Rumlow would want the Soldier more attached to him. Still a boundary, but also reliant. He wondered if there was something he could do to encourage that more while maintaining a balance. In the meantime, he kept scrubbing, wiping the blood away gradually. It was getting on his hand a little, the moisture soaking into what had dried and making it slick again. He didn't know where it really came from, but this house was plenty odd, so he figured it was just one of its quirks that it had decided to turn on the Soldier.]

Constantly might be a bit much, but I wouldn't say you're bugging me or anything like that the way things are now.

[The rag shifted lower, dragging across the Soldier's stomach now. It dripped down his frame and Rumlow knew it was probably making a mess, but the damage had already been done when the Soldier had climbed in. Red sheets. Best decision he'd made in his decor.]

Good, that's not a perception I want you to have to endure.

[He was also getting used to this longer leash, the independence that came with having a life beyond what Rumlow said and did. It was better suited to the roles that they had taken up to show the world around them. There was plenty of adventure to be found in Hell after all, and it was enjoyable to have the freedom to go and do exactly that as it suited him so long as his check-in times were compromised.]

Is that to say that you prefer to have someone sleeping in your bed at night?

[He had frequented it a little more than he did now when they had separate accommodations. There had been the excuse of not wanting to walk all the way back to Limbo or send Rumlow back to the dirty Hive, but here in this house, his room was literally down the hall. There was less excuse to request staying together at times.]

[There was the question Rumlow didn't want to answer. Not because of the answer itself, but the likely inquiries that would follow. It was times like this where he wished he could lie, but he could make due with obscuring the truth with other, less relevant truths. He rubbed at this face, and shrugged a shoulder.]

Sure, who wouldn't? It's nice curling up next to someone you're affectionate with. Don't you think?

[Turn the questions back on him, distract him with that rather than admit he just didn't want to be alone with that thing under his bed. That he wasn't real into what he thought it might want to do to him, if it managed to actually drag him down.]

[That was an expected answer, he supposed. Rumlow was willing to settle in with him and Chase and perhaps others if neither of them happened to be available. He didn't know, but he found the answer acceptable and easily believed as well. Rumlow had after all never been caught in a lie with him.]

Sometimes. It's nicer with a bed that can accommodate our size. Sometimes it's awkward knocking elbows or knees when turning over.

[He honestly didn't move much when he slept. He tended to stay in one spot for hours on end, life as an assassin in a small chamber or on the road with limited movements having fixed his needs to turn or shift.]

[The Soldier's answer made him chuckle. He shifted so he could wipe off a few drips of blood that had made it to his sides, then stood, ruffling the Soldier's hair with his clean hand. He needed to rinse off the cloth and wet it again.]

Yeah, that's definitely a luxury I was intent on when I got this place.

[He disappeared for a few moments while he ran the sink, squeezing out all the collected blood. He came back shortly after, pausing a foot or so from the bed to look at the Soldier. Red still smeared over his chest, hair lank and sat upon his bed. Something rumbled in his chest and Rumlow closed the distance between them, tipping the Soldier's face up towards his.]

Can I tell you a secret?

[He nodded his head, staying where he had settled himself as he watched Rumlow clean up and move around the room. He could always appreciate the commander's rough swagger, like a soft challenge underneath an open promise.

Yet, he found it almost alarming the way that his breath seemed to catch in his chest when his chin was tipped up so that he was looking all the way up at his commander. It was never particularly difficult to breathe unless they had been kissing too long, but this contact sent a tingle down his spine. Was it anticipation?]

Yes. You can tell me anything. Your secrets are safe with me.

[Sometimes the Soldier had reactions that really got to him. That hitch in his breath, the look on his face, the way his pupils grew, looking into his eyes, easy to see with the pale shade they were. Rumlow felt heat coiling inside him, automatic, like it was tied into the Soldier's own state.]

You are the most pleasing aspect of my afterlife and every time I wake up with you next to me, it sends a shudder of pleasure right down my spine.

[The last four words Rumlow practically purred, punctuating them with the gentle drag of his thumb across the Soldier's bottom lip. He bit at his own, letting that feeling wash over him.]

[And just like that, there was a lump in his throat, hindering him from swallowing. It didn't mean that he failed in trying, the bob of his Adam's apple plain with the angle of his neck, and he found his blue eyes searching Rumlow's face. For what, he couldn't put to words. Something... important.

He instead hitched a breath that was much too loud, breaking the silence that settled over them after Rumlow's words. There was a callous on the thumb pad that ran of his lip, and it gave a blast of heat that reached his cheeks. He hadn't flushed in... well, he didn't know how long.]

I... It's comfortable next to you. I know that I'm safe even when my dreams are rocky.

[This was malfunction, he absently thought. It was growing, but it wasn't terrifying like he suspected he was made to feel. It wasn't a loss of control anyway; it was a slow awakening.]

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