This is my @stevebuckysecretsanta gift for @edible-crayon ! I hope you like it <3
It was supposed to be art, but then it gave me an idea for a drabble, so there’s a link to AO3, and the drabble itself is under a read-more.
It Was Always You Rating: T Word count: 1516 Warnings: None
Bucky and Steve laughed their way up the staircase of the house Bucky had grown up in. That was the thing about friendships like theirs. It didn’t matter that Bucky hadn’t seen Steve in person since the year before. They just picked right back up where they’d left off.
Well, mostly. Bucky didn’t remember wanting to reach out and touch Steve quite so badly the last time he’d come home. Steve had reached the doorway to Bucky’s old bedroom before he got much of a chance to think about it, though.
“When you said your ma kept it the way you left it, I didn’t think you meant it was going to be like a time capsule,” Steve teased, nudging at Bucky’s side. “Where are we, sophomore year of highschool?”
The observation didn’t seem that far off. A significant portion of the bedroom wall was covered with old sci-fi movie posters, and the top of the dresser was littered with model spaceships and gaming miniatures Bucky had forgotten ever even owning. They’d spend the better portion of their free time throughout high school in this room. Wherever they’d gone, whatever else they’d done with their lives, standing here with Steve felt more like home than anything had in ages.
“Hey. Earth to Bucky.” Steve was waving his hand emphatically in front of Bucky’s face. Bucky could practically hear the grin that Steve’s mouth had pulled up into. “Are you still with me, pal?”
“What? I was just thinking.” Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and shoved it down, leaving him face to face with his best friend. Had Steve always been so gorgeous? Bucky didn’t remember ever thinking that before. He definitely didn’t remember ever wondering how it would be to close the foot or so of empty space between them to kiss Steve. Standing there with Steve staring at him most certainly was not the time to start.
“You kept that?” Steve asked, pointing to something on the wall behind Bucky. He didn’t know what Steve was referring to and mostly didn’t care if it rescued him from his current predicament. Bucky turned to look where Steve was pointing anyway, his gaze settling on an old sketch of his face that had been carefully taped to the wall in an empty spot next to his old Matrix poster.
“Of course I kept it. I kept every drawing you ever gave me, you goon,” Bucky scoffed, falling into the familiar rhythm of affection and teasing. “At the rate you’re publishing comics, they’re gonna be worth a fortune someday.”
“Well, I got real estate on your bedroom wall. That’s pretty high praise.” Steve was laughing again, and oh heaven’s, Bucky had missed that sound.
“Is this the part where I’m not supposed to tell you my mom must have found that and put it up?” There was a protest coming, Bucky could feel it, and he was quick to head it off. “Come on, I don’t have that kind of ego. Who hangs up pictures of themselves, anyway?”
“Yeah… I guess that’s a fair point,” Steve agreed. He stared intently at the drawing and then looked back at Bucky. “That was what, right before we left for college? You haven’t changed a bit.”
“And you have?” Even before the words were out, Bucky knew that was all wrong. Steve had changed. Something had changed. It made his stomach flop nervously, so Bucky turned his attention to the models on the top of his desk, which felt like a much safer thing to be staring at. “You’re still a dork.”
“I grew a beard,” Steve protested. Bucky wasn’t sure if Steve was trying to say that his appearance had changed, or if that was meant to be an accomplishment, but it cut through the nerves that had grabbed ahold of him and left him snickering.
“Okay? Now you’re a dork with a beard.” Bucky looked up long enough to stick out his tongue at Steve. If he just didn’t look, maybe he wouldn’t say or do anything too humiliating.
“You take that back!” Steve squawked indignantly.
“Or what? You’re gonna make me?” Bucky taunted, falling so easily back on years of friendship.
It was exactly the wrong thing to say if Bucky wanted to preserve any shred of dignity. They’d always been rather rough and tumble, so there was nothing at all strange about the way Steve playfully pushed Bucky. Given the instinct to catch oneself when falling, it also wasn’t out of the ordinary that Bucky grabbed Steve to keep from falling. It didn’t work, and both of them tumbled onto the bed, laughing all the while.
Maybe if Bucky hadn’t opened his eyes, it would have been fine. Steve had managed to prop himself up to keep from squishing Bucky and hadn’t seemed to notice Bucky’s palms still lingering where they’d been clutching at his waist. They were happy and together and Bucky was pretty sure he’d never wanted to hang on to a moment as badly as this one.
Steve shifted, and Bucky was suddenly acutely aware of how very close they were. Their laughter had quieted down, but Steve hadn’t gotten up, and he was pressed so close Bucky could feel the taut plane of his stomach and the slight jut of his hips. He tried to say something to break the nerve-wracking silence that had fallen between them, but all that came out was a soft, “Um…”
If Bucky could have melted into the blankets right then, he might have. He had no business wanting anything more than the friendship Steve had given him practically all their lives. Whatever tender, fragile thing was blossoming in his chest, he needed to yank it out by the roots and forget it had ever been there at all.
“Oh god. I’m sorry, I…” Steve’s frantic apology interrupted Bucky’s self-flagellation. He looked up to see Steve’s whole face had gone red as a tomato. As Steve started to jerk away, it was practically impossible for Bucky not to notice the rather telling physical response his friend had had to their proximity.
“Wait!” Bucky clutched impulsively at Steve’s shirt. Steve winced like it physically pained him to do so, but he stayed, and before Bucky could talk himself out of it, he blurted out, “You too?”
“That’s not funny,” Steve muttered, his irritated tone utterly ruined by the way his eyes had gone wide and startled, and the embarrassed flush that still stained his cheeks. It managed to be endearing, no matter how nervous and unraveled Bucky was feeling.
“Of course not,” Bucky agreed, biting his lip as he worked up the courage to finish. “I wasn’t joking.”
For a second, no one did anything. They lay in stunned silence, both trying to wrap their head around what the other was saying. Then, all at once, they caved. Bucky’s fingers were curled in the fabric of Steve’s shirt and Steve’s palm cradled Bucky’s jaw. Their mouths met somewhere in the middle, clumsy and eager, too overwhelmed to manage any sort of finesse.
Distantly, Bucky was aware they should probably talk about this. Steve broke off when they couldn’t breathe anymore, and between shaky, gasping breaths, Bucky meant to cobble together words. There was a wide chasm to leap between best friends and whatever this was. There were thousands of miles between them for most of the year. Where were they even supposed to start?
Apparently, Steve’s idea of where to start was lips nudging Bucky’s apart for another kiss. Steve’s tongue delved into Bucky’s mouth in a way that made his toes curl. After. They’d talk after.For the moment, Bucky forgot about all the complications and turned his attention to getting closer, the inside of his thighs dragging along Steve’s hips as he wrapped his legs around his friend.
Downstairs, the front door swung open, startling them both. Steve scrambled off of Bucky like he’d been burned, both of them wide-eyed and trying to get their breathing under control before someone came up and noticed the state they were in. No one came, though. Bucky’s mom only called up from the bottom of the staircase. “I’m back! Would you boys mind helping carry in the groceries?”
“Be right there!” Bucky shouted back, hoping she didn’t notice the strained note in his voice.
Bucky got up and started to straighten his clothes. He’d never heard Steve sound as nervous about anything as he did just then. Without the mindless forward momentum to keep them preoccupied, he was tense and frowning. “Buck. It… it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want.”
All the logistics Bucky had been worrying over didn’t trip him up for even a moment. “And what if I do?”
Steve grinned, not that Bucky had much of a chance to appreciate it. The smile was drowned out by Steve leaning in to kiss Bucky, a softer echo of before. “Then we’ll figure it out.”
“Good. And Steve?” Bucky hooked his arm through Steve’s tugging him towards the open doorway. “You’re still a dork with a beard.”
