speaking of dylan’s old man, i realize it * has been a while since i’ve last seen eddie and his other.
sometimes a thursday is sitting out on the balcony and listening to two people argue on the sidewalk and a third person join it a couple seconds later for a fresh perspective.
( years of being around alpine has gotten him used to the quick reflex and the annoyed bats aimed right at his face. his head jerks back, but not fast enough to escape it entirely. it makes him laugh. )
for being a funny little
smartass, pretending you can’t talk.
( he lets dylan stew——won’t stay like that for long where they’re headed. and to toxin, who finally shows, buck makes a noise in the affirmative. ) oh, all kinds. me, i’m a sucker for the m&m’s.
yeah? you practice that meow in the mirror since you got shapeshifted? very convincing. ( ‘ can you believe this guy? ’ is written all over his face when he turns away from dylan. ) yeah, yeah, always a damn bribe with you kids.
lucky i ain’t a stick in the mud like the other guys——mm, who knows why he’s like this, maybe we’ll ask tony if he’s in——but hey, s’time to go up.
( letting dylan look over his shoulder, ) say bye, dylan. when you’re human again,
uh—huh, lips sealed, bud. ( still in the safety of his hold, buck lets his curiosity lead in the middle of small talk. the thing about him: he * likes people. likes to make conversation. avengers tower, shield——feels like he knows something
about everybody there, and they know a little something of the soldier's own eccentricities. human things.
so when dylan * meows, all he does is roll his eyes and hoist him up higher, give them a better look at him. ) you're fuckin'







