Steve felt his chest tighten somewhere between a swelling happiness and an unbearable sort of nostalgia at the way Bucky’s voice sounded when he said Stevie. It was a stupid thing to get hung up on, but it made him smile nonetheless. He held out his hand now so he could help Bucky to his feet.
“You and my mom just liked to play me for a sucker,” he joked, shaking his head. “Of course you can see my stuff.” That was easy to agree to, really. It wasn’t like he hadn’t shown Bucky every crappy thing he’d ever drawn when he had just started; Steve liked to think he’d gotten a little better. And maybe it was a good thing that Steve hadn’t been able to bring himself to draw Bucky in all those months he hadn’t known if he was alive or dead. That might be a little embarrassing to have to show.
His expression fell a little at the next part though, and he shook his head, pulling Bucky to his feet as gently as possible and wrapping an arm around him in a loose hug. “Don’t say that, Buck. You…you deserve more kindness than anyone could give. Please try and remember that. You deserve everything. And if it was anyone but you talking so bad about my best friend, I’d have had to knock their teeth out by now,” he said, trying to keep his tone light as he pulled back a little. “There’s not an ounce of kindness in the world that you don’t deserve. I wish I could give you more.”
Some days it felt nice having his past memories. They reminded him of better times; of times where things had been easier and he had been an actual person. Some days James needed to be reminded that he was more than a weapon. Still, most days the memories just brought pain. They were there as a reminder of what had once been---what he could never have again. He could fake it every day but he would never be the Bucky in those memories. That man had died the day he fell.
“You were too easy to get with that,” he retorted, a fond look in his eyes. James nodded his head, smiling softly. There were rare times that he smiled these days. Being around Steve was definitely hard, but he seemed to be one of the only people that could actually draw a smile from him. But the idea of getting to see Steve’s drawings after so long was enough to bring one of those rare smiles out. He knew his best friend didn’t think he was the best artist, but James always disagreed. He had never seen anyone so talented before. He could flip through Steve’s drawing book again and again, never getting tired of looking at the same drawings.
Before he could reach out and grab the offered hand, he was being tugged up. James tensed when the arms were wrapped loosely around him, body tensing and demanding that he flee right then and there. He fought down that initial panic, however, and reminded himself who this was. Steve didn’t have any ulterior motives for being kind to him. The physical contact wasn’t going to result in pain down the line. It was okay. Closing his eyes, James leaned slightly into his best friend, flesh arm wrapping around Steve, clutching tightly at his shirt. His chin rested atop the other’s shoulder, and for the first time since he had been freed from HYDRA’s grasp, he felt at ease in another’s touch. James couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at those words. “Good thing it’s me, ‘cause I know you’d throw punches, Stevie. You’ve done so much for me already, and I can’t thank you enough for showing me that kindness. I know this ain’t easy, but our lives never have been. I’m gonna be here for you through all of this. ‘Till the end of the line.”
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