offthatpath | inbox | deerington

[Alec wanders over towards the TV, taking a seat on one end of the couch. He's got no clue what is playing, but after watching silently for several moments he finds that he can't look away. It doesn't really matter what the women are arguing over, the voyeuristic pull of watching people being idiots in public is in full force.

He only manages to pull his eyes away when Bucky appears at his side, offering the bottle. He accepts it, pulling the edge of his t-shirt up over the bottle cap and twisting it off.]

What is this? [He nods towards the television.]

Real Housewives of New England. I have no idea what the story is—doesn't seem like there is one. I've been watching it for the last hour and... I.. [ Frankly, there aren't words for how dumb yet hypnotic this show is. Bucky simply trails off with a shrug. ]

Oh, that one! That's Lydia. She's always the instigator in these fights.

Maybe the title is supposed to be the story. [Though he can't say why people would be particularly interested in following the lives of a bunch of housewives. Although maybe the fact that he can't seem to look away says it all.]

Do they argue like this a lot? [One of the women empties a glass of wine on the other and things escalate to another level as Alec takes a long pull on his bottle.]

Their nails look lethal.

Yeah, they've yet to run out of stuff to complain about. [ It's actually impressive how much they have to bitch about. ] I guess when all you do is sit around a house... Oh! Popcorn!

[ The microwave goes off, and Bucky's up stomping into the kitchen to rescue the bag. There comes a string of curses shortly after as he pulls the steaming bag out. Then he returns with a big bowl to share between them. ]

[He can't help but mentally critique the women as they begin to claw at each other and pull hair. Flinching with one sharp and pointy nail flies too close to comfort to someone's eye.]

Imagine what they could do if they had actual training.

[A shudder inducing thought, to be sure. But one that is easily swept aside by the presence of warm, buttery popcorn being set down between them. One of his hands immediately dives into the bowl, scooping up a handful.]

Hoo ho ho yeah. [ Oh sorry, Alec, does that not turn you on the way it does him? Older women putting you in your place? No? ]

Must be nice living in a time when you can afford to waste good wine, huh?

[ Why, yes, Bucky will be judging them for their excess. Women in his time would kill for a new pair of hosiery. ]

[That reaction garners a glance and eyebrow raise from Alec, but he doesn't comment. Needless to say the thought of any woman putting him in his place doesn't turn him on in the least.]

I don't think it's just the time. These women are clearly wealthy. [But that does raise another question.] What time are you from exactly?

Still! Who wastes perfectly good w— [ You know what? Buck isn't going to finish that sentence. For ever bar brawl he's started, plenty of liquor likely hit the floor by the time the police would drag him out the doors.

Thank Christ Alec changes the subject. ]

Forty-five. You?

Forty-five...[He repeats, deadpan, as it slowly sinks in.] What? Like nineteen forty-five?

[As separate as Shadowhunters tried to keep from mundane society, there are some things just too large to escape their notice. Like a World War. So the date isn't lost on him.]

...Wow. No wonder you sound like a grumpy old man sometimes. Are you going to start telling people to get off your lawn?

Yeah. Nineteen forty-five. [ Did he STUTTER, BRO?? He doesn't break the side-eye he has glued to Alec when he puts a hand in the bowl for another mouthful of popcorn. ]

... I don't have a lawn. [ The joke goes sailing over his head. ]

[He doesn't care about the side-eye because he's dead on staring at Bucky.]

It's terrifying to think that in the future of your world you're probably someone's grandpa right now.

[He makes an amused sounding hum as the joke sails over Bucky's head.]

Sorry, the reference must be too new for you.

Mm. [ Bucky's attention turns to the popcorn bowl between them. ] Probably not, actually.

[ He's been counting down the days for two years, waiting for an inevitability that's been forewarned. But instead of wallowing in pity, Bucky lobs a piece of popcorn at Alex. ]

Or maybe your jokes just ain't funny.

Why's that? You don't like kids or something?

[He ducks his head, laughing, narrowly avoiding the piece of popcorn that sails over his shoulders and lands on the couch on the other side of him.]

Or maybe it's because you resemble a child too much yourself?

[He's going to ignore that last bit. His jokes are clearly hilarious.]

[ Wow. How offensive. Bucky is so offended. ]

Does this look like a child to you?!

[ He rolls up a sleeve and flashes his guns. He's a twink, but his arms are still well-defined. There's hardly a scrap of fat on him. Mainly due to malnourishment, but still! You gotta be cut to keep up with Cap! ]

Yeah, lookit these guns, baby! Ka-pooow! [ He flexes as he makes gunfire noises. Don't make him pull his shirt off to prove his point further!! HE'LL DO IT! ]

[Alec glances between Bucky's revealed bicep and his face, a smile curling his lips.]

Really? Your answer is to show off your muscles? That's why I say you're like a kid.

Besides...[He reaches in the bowl for some popcorn and pops some kernels in his mouth before continuing.] I've seen bigger.

[ His eyes almost pop out of their sockets with that eye roll. ] Well we can't all be blessed with a Herculean figure. That would be too swell...

[ Bitter? OH A TAD. ]

My partner's built like a damn Greek statue. Lucky bastard...

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