STUCKY DRABBLE STUCKY DRABBLE
*Bucky showering while Steve contemplates their relationship post WS*
Bucky was singing, masked by the falling water, notes slipping under the doorframe, surrounding Steve in familiar comfort. It didn’t used to be this easy, he mused, resting his head back against the pillow. When Bucky first returned, it was like walking on cracked glass; uncertain, barbed, haunting… every hour Bucky’s predicament changing, his mind slipping, his health failing. It sucked. And it was Steve’s fault. I let him go. No amount of time would change that. The train. The screaming. Wanting to jump after him, to save him, and, if not, die with him. Feeling like half his soul had been ripped off and buried. Seventy years did nothing to muffle that pain, that roar, that fire behind his eyelids. But Bucky was back. He hadn’t died, not really, and Steve was never going to let him go again.
They had started sharing a bed the second week after S.H.I.E.L.D. had released Bucky from the base; it had felt natural, comfortable. Bucky had been beginning to recall their childhood, and those cold winter nights where tiny asthmatic Steve’s only heat source was his brunette friend. Bucky sought that familiarity, and Steve was glad, scared of parting with him for the dark hours of night. They both liked the contact; it made them feel safe, connected, alive. They were both relics of an era irrevocably gone, and they needed each other to feel real. No one but Bucky remembered Sarah’s laugh, his knobby knees, and various bouts of sickness, except for Peggy, and only briefly. Steve and Bucky loved each other, wholly and completely, together like pieces of a near-destroyed puzzle, but together nonetheless.
Friends? The media loved using their story to highlight the power of friendship, how it transcends time, mortality, and reason… but is that what we are? The term didn’t feel right to Steve. You don’t fall asleep curled around your friend. Your friend doesn’t let you kiss their neck to calm them down after a nightmare. You don’t get turned on by your friend’s half-naked body. You wouldn’t light the world on fire a hundred times over to find your friend.
Brothers. Maybe then. Not now. They weren’t children anymore. This was something more.
*this definitely is happening in Steve’s mind after WS i refuse to believe anything else*
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