Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rodgers
Warnings: Angst, sadness
Other: Cannon universe
Steve and Bucky’s apartment was a a small, but comfortable place, on a quiet street. It was on the top floor, but since it was only a three story building, surrounded by five story buildings, there was no view. Steve didn’t mind that. It made the place seem cosy, like it was nestled amongst the other buildings. Safe. For Bucky, it made the place seem closed in.
Steve was more than grateful to have Bucky back in his life, though he worried constantly. Oh he wore a brave face, of course, for Bucky. But he could see the constant pain Bucky was in, could see how he wrestled with his mind daily. Fear prickled in steve, the fear that one day Bucky might snap back into being the soldier. Then he would be a version of Buck, but not Steve’s. Not the man that Steve loved and lost. Bucky would be the man he found.
They both went running in the mornings, and afterward steve made coffee. Bucky would shower first while Steve Made the coffee, then when he came out to drink his (still steaming) coffee, Steve would shower while his cooled.
They had been given a respite from saving the earth, which both men were grateful for. A holiday was what they needed. Fury had seen to it that they were left alone for the time being. A week of quiet had passed. A week of morning runs and coffee and stiff conversation and an ache in Steve’s chest when he saw Bucky not quite as he was pre-war. Oh how Steve missed that man.
He loved Bucky now, but he found himself wishing for the easy banter and jovial conversation of the old days. He missed Bucky’s hand being casually thrown around his shoulders, and how it might linger there, on those special days when it was just them, and no on to see. No one to judge. There had only every been that hand, on that shoulder, but Steve wanted it to be more. That was gone now. Or, maybe just buried. Either way, Steve could not reach that version of Bucky.
This morning was different from the others. Steve began making the coffees. Bucky’s strong and black, the way he’d always had it. Steve took his with lots of milk. Instead of getting strait into the shower Bucky lingered in the kitchen, watching Steve as he made and poured the coffee. Steve noticed this of course, but he tried not to be obvious about noticing it.
“No shower Buck? You might stink out the place.” Bucky shoved his shoulder playfully and something in Steve lifted.
“Actually, I thought I’d make breakfast this morning.” Steve hid his surprise fairly successfully, though, Bucky always had seen through him. He seemed to now.
“Oh come on, my cooking is fine! You used to say so yourself! Go shower, I’ll make eggs.” Bucky told him. Steve wanted nothing more than to watch his friend cook breakfast, to hear the playfulness that had so long been absent in his voice, but he didn’t want to make Bucky uncomfortable, in case he retreated back into himself. So he went and showered.
Normally Steve took a little time in the shower (not too long, because he didn’t want a huge water bill) enjoying the soothing feel of the hot water. Today, however, he raced through the shower, washing quickly, and turning off the water before tree minutes had passed. He wanted- needed- to see more of this happiness that Bucky held right now. It took him only a minute to dress in clean clothes and be back in the kitchen.
“That was quick.” Bucky said from his spot where he stood frying the eggs. “You hungry?”
“Starving.” Steve said, a light tone in his voice. The tension that often underlay their conversations was absent, and Steve felt hopeful, cautiously hopeful, but hopeful all the same.
A little later they sat at the table, eggs and toast in front of them. They ate quietly, but the quiet wasn’t uncomfortable.
“Hey Buck.” Steve said after their meal was gone. “Do you remember back when your mum used to cook us those… awful fried eggs?” He held his breath, hoping that this wouldn’t send Bucky back inside himself, but draw him out further. To Steve’s great delight and relief, Bucky laughed.
“That woman couldn’t cook to save herself. She tried though. Damn did she try.” Bucky sighed, not unhappily.
“I miss her Steve.” He said suddenly.
“Me too.” Steve told him, surprised.
“You’re here though. And that helps.” Bucky said, giving Steve a smile. He smiled in return.
“That’s ‘cause I’m a grate friend. Seriously, you hit the jackpot.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all full of yourself now.” Bucky said. Both men were smiling. The ache in Steve chest had gone, and the prickling fear forgotten.
“You gonna help me clear this?” Bucky asked as he stood.
“Of course.” Steve said, gathering the plates in his hand. The washing up was slow, because both of them were taking their time, talking and reminiscing a little. When that was done, Steve asked: “Do you want to sit on the couch?” Bucky nodded and followed him to their tiny living room, which had one two seater couch, second hand and worn. The thing about two seater is: they don’t leave much room for two large, muscly men when they are sitting beside each other. Their body’s were touching slightly as they sat in silence.
Then Bucky put his arm around Steve, just like he used to and Steve sighed, feeling so happy, so relieved and revelling in the feeling Bucky’s touch, however casual it was meant to be. It was only when Bucky began staring at him, did Steve realise that he’s sighed aloud. Pink crept into his cheeks. Bucky kept staring. The silence changed somehow. It felt heavier. Deeper.
“I um… I missed this.” Steve said quietly.
“Me too.” Bucky whispered. He dropped his gaze from Steve’s face and stared at the blank TV instead. Steve saw pink in Bucky’s cheek and realised that perhaps things weren’t as casual for Bucky as he’d thought.
Slowly, carefully, steve lay his head on Bucky’s shoulder. I was warm and strong and smelt like Bucky and was perfect in every way. This, Steve realised, was all he’d ever wanted. To be sitting like this, with Bucky. Though in his dreams his arms had been around Bucky too.
He felt Bucky’s hand move to Steve’s shoulder, then squeeze it lightly. Steve breathed against Bucky’s neck and the man looked back at him.
“Steve… is… is there something here? Something… else?” Steve’s breath quickened and the pink on his cheeks deepened. Bucky looked the same way. Steve raised his head to look Bucky in the eye.
“Buck..” He said softly. A look like fear found it’s way into Bucky’s eyes. Steve realised that he thought Steve might reject him, or react badly or hate him even But Steve could never hate him, and reject him? No. Steve loved him. And it was in that moment that Steve realised that he’d fallen in love with Bucky. A long time ago. And it was still there. It would always be there.
“There’s something here Buck.” He said. Relief came into Bucky’s face. And something else.
“Good… that’s good. Because… I really…” He couldn’t put it into words. Steve understood.
There was more quiet. Steve smiled in encouragement and Bucky smiled back in an almost serene way. Their faces got closer to each other, both men lost in the other’s eyes, and in the moment. Bucky rested his head against Steve’s and breathed in his friends scent. Steve did the same, feeling so alive, so in awe of this moment. He raise his hand to Bucky’s face and stroked it gently. For so long had he wanted to do that. Bucky sighed and leaned into Steve’s hand.
“Steve…” He whispered. “Can I?…” HIs lips leaned closer.
“Yeah.” Steve breathed.
And then their lips met. It was soft, slow. A feeling like electricity built up inside Steve’s stomach. He knew what the feeling was, though he’d never experienced it himself. Bucky felt it too. Steve moved his lips against Bucky’s slowly, not wanting to push his friend. Bucky moved his lips with Steve’s and the kiss deepened. Steve moved his hand to Bucky’s neck, and the arm that had been on Steve’s shoulders moved to his back, bringing him closer to Bucky. Their lips broke about for a moment as the men breathed heavily.
“Buck…”
“Steve. Will you stay with me?”
“Always Bucky. Always.”
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