Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Late autumn wind was chilly, seeping under every seam and tear in Bucky’s jacket as if it knew its way around. He tried his best not to shiver, but his body refused to listen, and he swore silently under his breath.

Next to him, Steve shifted a little, disturbing the layer of fallen, auburn leaves on the ground. Some were old enough they’d had time to dry out and crunched under his weight.

He seemed unaffected by the cold weather, and he most likely wasn’t, his enhanced metabolism keeping him warm. Yet he also looked restless, tired of sitting in the same spot near an abandoned factory in the middle of nowhere for hours. 

“Sorry, guess staking out isn’t your thing,” Bucky offered apologetically as he looked down at their target through a pair of binoculars, noting the facility to be as empty and quiet as it had been for almost two hours now.

Bucky really hoped his lead was legit, because Steve needed to beat up some bad guys, even if he refused to admit it. That was why he brought him here in the first place.

They were waiting on several A.I.M. agents to appear any moment to trade some stolen schematics. Bucky wished he had more intel on this operation, but his informer might not have been the most trustworthy one.

It was very likely there were bound to end up empty handed today. Besides, it was A.I.M. Weren’t they the good guys now? Or did they go rogue again? With an organization who valued progress more than human lives it was difficult to predict.

“Nah, it’s better than sitting home the entire day,” Steve shrugged. The word ‘alone’ hung in the air unspoken, but heavy and uncomfortable nonetheless. It made Bucky bite his lip, his real fist clenching and unclenching as if on its own accord.

Bucky inhaled deeply to start speaking, but not a word escaped him. He knew he needed to talk to Steve, it was like a best friend’s obligation, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was ready to fly to the other end of the galaxy for people he cared about, ready to start a war by punching some alien king in the face. But he’d never been good with discussing feelings, or offering a shoulder to cry on — it was Steve’s area of expertise.

Except this time it was also Steve who needed it.

“Thanks, really, I get it why you dragged me out,” his friend chuckled in the end, most likely noticing Bucky’s inner struggle. “I’m alright though,” he reassured.

“Are you?” Bucky asked without looking at him. It came out more disbelieving than he intended, but it was too late to take the words back. Besides, he knew he was right. Decades of fighting with Steve shoulder to shoulder allowed Bucky to pick up on any change of his mood. Not to mention the reason behind his sulking was dire enough Bucky didn’t even need to see him to understand how bad he was affected.

He kind of went through the same a few years back.

Bucky was still looking down through the binoculars, but he could feel Steve’s gaze on him, and it made him want to fidget. “It was worse last month. But I’m really ok now,” he heard Steve speak. “Besides, it was a long time coming, ever since the... well, the entire evil Hydra double ordeal,” he added with a sigh.

He tried to sound lighthearted, as if it was really not a big deal. Yet, there was an unmistakable heaviness in his voice, pain, and Bucky knew he was only pretending to be cheerful. He’d been doing it from the start.

He’d also never told Bucky about it, never called and said, ‘hey, Sharon left me, you wanna go hit a bar and try to get drunk even if I’m physically incapable of it?’ No, he’d done nothing of the sort, going instead alone against some terrorist mucks he dug out from going though S.H.I.E.L.D.’s intel.

It was Ian, of all people, who called Bucky almost two months later, asked if he could come over and try cheering Steve up, and it was the first time Bucky even heard about their break up.

Almost everyone knew before him, and Bucky tried not to be bitter about it, because in the end it was Steve hurting. A part of him felt a little betrayed still.

“Just,” Steve said and paused, and this time Bucky finally looked directly at him, catching him placing his own binoculars onto the ground and turning to lay on his back, splaying over the blanket of dead foliage like an oversized starfish. “After so many years, it’s strange to be single, you know... what should I even do, Buck?”

“God, I’m like the worst person to ask.” Bucky chuckled, forgetting completely about the abandoned warehouse down the hill. He nursed an idea about rolling to his side, but he was so tired of the cold ground, so he sat up instead. 

They weren’t far from the target and most of the trees surrounding them were bare, providing little cover, so anything beside burying oneself in leaves was a little risky. But the ground was cold, and unlike in Steve’s case, pneumonia was a real possibility for him. That’s why no matter how heavy the air between them was, he couldn’t help but sign in relief, finding himself in a vertical position.

“But there’s like a million of new doors opening. Sooner or later someone good will show up,” he continued. It sounded almost convincing when Bucky was saying it out loud. In reality, it’s been almost two years since he’d lost Natasha, and he still had no idea what he wanted, or who. “Go on a date with somebody,” he proposed finally. “Even if it won’t turn into something, at least it would be a pleasant evening in a pleasant company.”

“Who would I even go with?” Steve shrugged, making Bucky want to roll his eyes.

“You want me to pick? I don’t think we have similar tastes.” 

A first honest smile crossed Steve’s face that day, and he chuckled. “Ah, do your worst.”

“Worst you say? That would be going with me,” Bucky offered without thinking, hoping his suggestion was funny enough he could at least make him laugh.

Steve didn’t laugh.

Bucky glanced down, trying to find the reason for the lack of reaction and found Steve staring at him with intent. There were several different emotions crossing his features, some of which Bucky couldn’t name, some he didn’t want to name.

“Ok,” Steve replied finally, and suddenly the autumn day stopped to seem all that cold, Bucky’s face heating up. Yet, before he even had time to respond, Steve started to speak again. “I mean, what was the last time we even went to watch a movie? Or had lunch together? Not that I’m complaining about fighting by your side,” he nodded down at the target of their surveillance, “but it would be nice—“

He stopped then, frowning, his gaze still tracking something down the hill. Following it, Bucky could see a movement, several cars rolling towards the warehouse, people in familiar yellow uniforms popping out of them. The software in the binoculars indicated many of them were heavily armed, some devices of unknown origin hidden in the trunk of a heavily armored Jeep.

“Guess it’s out cue,” Bucky said, getting up from the ground completely.

Steve followed suit. He made a quick job of brushing dirty leaves and tiny twigs off his uniform, before picking up his shield. “So, Friday?” he asked as a matter of fact. “About four in the evening?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky shrugged, starting to move forward.

“Great. It’s a date.”

***

To tell the truth, Bucky thought little about the entire thing. As the week went by, he rebounded into the usual routine of doing much of nothing but nursing his freshly bruised side from the recent fight.

Living on a spaceship might’ve seemed a little strange to somebody else, but Bucky was used to it. It wasn’t as good as a secret base in the middle of Antarctica, but there was plenty of room, somewhat comfortable bedding, air conditioner, and, even if it was rationed, hot water in the shower.

He played video games with Kobik, cooked her food and helped her learn letters of Latin and Cyrillic alphabets. Taking care of a child took a decent amount of time, and even then he was perfectly capable of finding spare moments to stumble aimlessly around his ship, or lay in his bed staring at the ceiling.

On Wednesday, he snuck onto the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier to look through their classified files to make sure Steve didn’t go to do crazy shit on his own again. Conveniently, he was also able to dig out some information about missing schematics of prototype weapons based on Kree technology. Whatever it was, looked awfully familiar to the blueprints he and Steve had recently found during their little two person raid.

On the way out, he stumbled on Maria Hill, who gave him an almost murderous glare, but didn’t otherwise react to his presence. That, in turn, reminded him he wasn’t currently on their apprehend on sight list, and could’ve just walked through the literal front door.

That was of course, until they’d manage to find out Kobik was still living with him, and hadn't flown away into the distant corner of the universe as he somehow convinced everybody.

Thursday night was when the worry started to settle. He was aware dates didn’t have to be romantic in nature, yet his sometimes overimaginative mind decided to start providing him with what if scenarios which he made every effort to shut down. 

He went through his wardrobe several times, trying to decide what to wear, even if the things he owed consisted of four pairs of almost identical black cargo pants, two pairs of jeans, one of which was also black, and a pile of gray, white and black t-shirts, half of which was missing a sleeve, to accommodate his metal shoulder better.

In the end, he picked the dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt, simply because they were the least worn items out of everything else and looked the newest.

About an hour after that, he called Natasha. After a few joined missions, after working together during the reign of Steve’s evil clone, they’d become quite close again. It wasn’t the same level as before her memories of him were wiped, but it was a pleasant comradery, friendship even. Everything else aside, they simply had too much in common not to be close.

She also was the only other person in the whole world who knew about Kobik. It was an accident that she found out, Bucky hadn’t been careful enough at the time. Yet, she was also great at keeping secrets, and having somebody to help him from time to time was incredibly convenient.

She picked her phone exactly after the third dial, as she always did. “Hey, James,” she greeted him. There was warmth to her voice, even if she sounded tired.

“Sorry to bother you on a short notice, but is there a chance you could hang out with Kobik tomorrow?” He had every intention on returning back to his ship after the date, but he simply wasn’t sure what time, and he really didn’t want to leave her alone for the entire evening.

“Sure,” Natasha replied. “Have a job of some sort?”

“Actually,” Bucky grinned into the phone’s receiver, knowing Natasha was good enough to know he did it without seeing him. “I’ve got a date.”

“Finally!” She chuckled warmly, as if Bucky’s love life was really so pathetic. “Do I know her?”

“Steve Rogers would be upset if you called him a her,” Bucky said jokingly.

And maybe his jokes were really not as funny as he thought, because all humor disappeared from Natasha’s voice almost immediately. “He actually asked you out?” she inquired.

Bucky blinked a few times, rubbing his forehead. “Well, no, I did.”

There was more heavy silence on the other side. “You asked Steve out,” Natasha repeated slowly, not even trying to hide disbelief from her voice. “Is this your way of trying to cheer him up? Cause if it is, it’s a horrible idea.”

This conversation was obviously going in a completely different direction from what Bucky had expected. “Come on, Tash. That’s not what you think. It’s not romantic or anything. Just going to hang out a little.”

Natasha made a strange sound that Bucky couldn’t interpret. “Very well,” she sighed. “Drop Kobik at my place when you go, and have fun. Just do everyone a favor, make sure you two are on the same page. Otherwise, it’s gonna be a mess.”

With that she hung up the phone, leaving Bucky to stand in the middle of his bunk holding the silent device against his ear. He didn’t expect a reaction like that and wondered what Natasha’s warning even meant. He was sure both he and Steve had the same expectation of the evening, that was exactly what his friend meant when he said they hadn’t gone to movies together in ages.

Shaking his head, he pocketed the phone and looked over the clothes on his bed, pondering if he had time to stop by someplace to get a button down shirt instead.

***

Somehow, it felt a little warmer in the city, less windy. The sky was clear, and the sun shone brightly over the gray concrete. There weren’t as many trees in New York, and most of them were shades of yellow, their leaves adding a little color to the otherwise monotonous streets.

Bucky spotted Steve almost instantly as he approached a familiar building, the other man waiting for him outside with a cheerful expression. He stopped his motorcycle right in front of Steve, giving him a quick glance over, feeling suddenly a little underdressed.

And not that Steve wore a tuxedo, they didn’t even look all that mismatched next to each other, but every piece of his clothing was new. It also seemed someone had helped him with his wardrobe picking, because left to his own devices, Steve dressed like it was still the forties. Now he had jeans that faded not from the passage of time, but by design, and there was some abstract print on his white t-shirt under a gray three quarter sleeve blazer. Dammit, even his watch was matching his shoes and his belt, almost looking as if made from the same strip of light-brown leather. 

Deciding to not overthink it, Bucky ended up dressing in what he had on hand. Now he was very aware of the small wears around the collar of his shirt, of the small tears and scratches on his leather jacket, feeling as if they suddenly became a focal point of everyone’s attention.

“Hi there,” he smirked at his friend still. “Have you seen a guy here? Tall, blond. You seem much like him, but way too good looking.”

Bucky wasn’t sure why he decided to flirt, but it was technically a date, even if just a friendly one, and it wasn’t completely weird to admit your friend had decent looks. Wasn’t it?

The blush that spread around Steve’s face and neck was also worth the effort. “Heh, it’s just me,” he shrugged, scratching his nape as if uncomfortable. “You look good, too, Buck,” he added with a smile. “Had no idea there was still a face under all that stubble.”

Bucky grinned in amusement. “Gives me character,” he said, rubbing his freshly shaved chin. “Are you gonna stay here, in the middle of the street, or will you actually climb on?” He nodded at the back of his bike.

Steve nodded and took a seat behind him, arms wrapping around Bucky’s midsection, and this simple contact felt electrifying. It was almost funny, but Bucky couldn’t recall the other time Steve had ever rode the back of the motorcycle with him. It wasn’t a manipulation of the memory, he simply couldn’t recollect it because even if it happened in the past, he doubted he’d paid enough attention to it.

It was different now. Every inch of his body that touched Steve was aware of the contact between them. His skin almost buzzed with an array of sensations, some of which were almost uncomfortable to bear.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked, a little concerned.

“Yeah,” Bucky managed to reply, even if his mouth suddenly started to feel too dry. Begging for his body to calm down, he pressed the gas handle of the bike, speeding down the street. 

***

Bucky used to know every good eatery in Virginia, even some that were on the other end of the state from Camp Lehigh. He’d dragged Steve in many of them at one point, and was still certain he could find a place that both held a sentimental significance to them and was open.

New York was a different story. Not that he was completely lost in here, he’d spent a decent amount of time in the city at different times and on different occasions. But he wasn’t as familiar with it as Steve was. In the end, it was his home here, the place where he grew up.

Bucky expected him to guide them to Manhattan, but Steve was directing him to take turns that led to the edge of Downtown Brooklyn, to a place that looked rather unremarkable from the outside.

“Some special memories here?” Bucky inquires as he parked on the side of the road, eyeing the establishment up and down with curiosity.

It was a small Irish restaurant, probably family owned. The sign was slightly shabby and outdated, and it was a little difficult to spot driving down the road. Yet, there were people inside, a lot of them, and the smell coming from the establishment was an answer as to why.

“No. Actually, I just recently found it. Which is strange, considering it's been around for years,” Steve chuckled getting off the bike and stretching a little. “Last month was wandering around on foot. Almost passed it, too. Then the smell hit me, reminded of my mom. Not exactly her cooking, but you had to try their colcannon.”

Without meaning it, Bucky found himself smiling at Steve’s back, feeling a little warmer from the way he spoke, from the softness in his voice. It felt like Steve was sharing something private with him, and it was something Bucky planned to hold on to.

“As long as it doesn’t have sour cream, I’m up to eat anything,” he responded laughing. Catching up with Steve, he patted him on the shoulder as a thank you for confiding.

The inside of the restaurant was downright cozy, and Bucky already marked it as a place he might want to return to. It was two stories tall, with a lot of open space in the center.

They didn’t have a reservation, but one of the servers greeted them at the entrance and, after inquiring if they had a preference for the floor, led them up a short staircase. There they were seated at one of the tables next to the railing, with a good view of the ground level. It wasn’t the best seat in the house, but that meant they weren’t recognized.

“I heard some people saw you on the helicarrier a few days back,” Steve started as a matter of fact. “Heard you were digging through the files on A.I.M.” There was really no accusation in his voice. In fact, he sounded even amused, but it was obvious he was expecting an explanation, too.

“You’ve been reckless. Someone has to make sure you didn’t decide to do something stupid alone again,” Bucky shrugged, picking up a menu and starting to look over it. “Gosh, can you believe it, we’re in an Irish restaurant, and I’m driving?” he sighed dramatically, hoping Steve wouldn’t continue the previous line of questioning.

Bucky was well aware Steve wouldn’t like him spying, even if he had been doing so for the man’s safety ever since they met — first because it was an order, then because he really started to care. Still, Steve had never put a real effort to putting a stop to it, and by the end of the day Bucky suspected it was as much of a habit for him, as it was for Bucky himself.

This time, however, his expression changed to curious. “Were you able to find anything?” he asked seriously. “Hill is sort of keeping me out of it, and temporarily restrained my access to all classified information. Says it’s for my own good.”

Bucky blinked, then a wide grin spread over his face. “Whaddya know, there are other people in the world who figured the great Captain America can be a self destructive dumbass on occasion. Now I have to send Hill flowers, or a thank you card.”

Steve exhaled a little impatiently and tilted his head. “Could try flowers, not going to mention about all the places on your body she’d try shoving them the next time she sees you. Still though, I’m really worried about more and more A.I.M. operatives going rouge. Or their entire organization returning back to its roots. Not sure what is worse.”

Bucky lowered his menu and fixed Steve a stare. “Are we seriously going to talk about them on our date?”

He intended it as a joke, but once again, it was not interpreted as one. Bucky’s words took Steve aback, and he looked shocked. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” he nodded, before turning thoughtful. “Not that I’d ever been good at this, but I’ve grown even further out of shape. What do people even talk about on dates nowadays?”

Bucky gave him a shrug. “Usually they get to know each-other.”

That made Steve chuckle and shake his head.  “Wouldn’t work so great for us.”

“True,” Bucky agreed, finding himself smiling at the statement. “I think I can write your biography, and it will be 90 percent accurate facts and 10 just my exaggeration of positive traits of your character.”

“Flatterer,” Steve’s grin turned wide by this point. “You’ll probably add a squad of beautiful ladies following me around everywhere.”

“Well, I’m most definitely not telling people about this date.”

“Why not?”

That made Bucky stop on his tracks. He wasn’t going to tell anyone, because it wasn’t really a date, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice it. A realization struck him then, that there was a part of him that wanted for this to be real, at least to an extent. He wanted to find out what it was really like to go on a date with Steve, maybe even hold him, or... just for a second Bucky’s gaze fell onto the other man’s lips, but he forced himself to look away and not to think about it. 

“Because it’s a memory for me to have,” he smiled finally as his attention returned to the menu.

The slightly corny explanation was worth it once again, because for the second time that evening Steve’s face turned a shade redder, and he averted his eyes. Yet, this expression also made something inside Bucky lurch in a strange manner, and he had to put an effort into calming his heart back down to an acceptable tempo. 

“So, colcannon,” he said, trying to switch the conversation to a topic of food, something that’d never failed to cheer him up. “A staple of Irish cuisine.”

Steve hummed at that. “If you want a staple, you could try corned beef or Shepherd's Pie. Colcannon is just something my mom had to cook a lot — we rarely could get a hold of meat.”

That made Bucky glance up at his friend again, reminded how poor Steve grew up. He used to think his life was shitty, but at least his dad’s job at the base was putting good food on the table for him and his sister, not to mention decent clothes and toys, and occasional trips to amusement parks.

Yet, Steve didn’t look unhappy now, reminded of his hardship. He’d always been like that, not even remotely bitter at his life.

“And still you used to share your portions with me back during the war, as if it was me who’s been starving,” Bucky sighed, tying his best to go through the menu, yet unable to pay enough attention to it. Not that he needed it, deciding at the back of his mind that Shepherd’s Pie sounded rather good. “Did I really used to look that scrawny to you?”

Another chuckle, even warmer this time somehow. “No, but you always ate like it was the case.”

A waitress chose that moment to approach them. She looked at Steve very close, and there was honest awe in her eyes, and Bucky couldn’t tell if it was because he recognized him out of the uniform, or simply found him very attractive.

The last thought didn’t sit well with Bucky for some reason, despite the fact only recently he’s been trying to convince his friend to go on a date with somebody. That was also something he added to the list of things he wasn’t going to dwell on, hoping the feeling was born from merely an unwanted interruption to their friendly outing.

“I was messed up,” Bucky said as she took their orders and left. His words didn’t come out light as he wanted, the heavy implication of his deeds settling behind the words.

He remembered the cold nights of staking high priority targets, of shutting down all his emotions before the kill. It had always made him hungry for some reason, or maybe it didn’t but food was the thing that reminded him he was something more than a killing machine.

“Yeah, you kind of were,” Steve responded seriously, making Bucky blink. The statement astonished him, because he’d expected Steve to disagree, to tell he used to be a good kid, an inspiration to many.

His reaction was likely more severe than he’d expected, because Steve raised an eyebrow. “That surprised you?” he observed, looking Bucky directly in the eyes.

“Well, It’s the first time you ever acknowledged it,” Bucky confessed, looking away, feeling himself too scrutinized under his stare. “You’ve always treated me like I was an innocent child.”

He still did, in a way. Still often acted as if this image of Bucky he’d built decades ago in his head was the real deal.

“Buck, I—“

“No, wait,” Bucky shook his head, wondering distantly how their conversation managed to take a turn like this. “It really doesn’t matter now.”

There was a moment of silence in which Steve continued to look at him. A chill ran down Bucky's spine, and he wondered distantly if perhaps they sat too close to an air conditioning unit. Or if it was the weather outside getting colder.

“You really think I never saw it?” Steve began finally, his voice even and so damn soft, as it had absolutely no reason to be. “Of course I did. I saw what you were trained to be. But I still think it wasn’t what defied you. There were dozens of little other things. Like your honest smile when Toro wanted to celebrate your birthday, how you always told everyone you hated the comics about us, because they portrayed you as a child, and yet you continued secretly reading them. I know you convinced yourself that killing people was the only thing you were good at, but it’s not true. More than anything I’ve tried to remind you that, back during the war. Because I thought if I didn’t do it, you would never be able to see it yourself.”

Bucky felt as if out of breath listening to his explanation. There were so many emotions running through him, mixing in his chest. A strange hot sensation was spreading over his face, and with some sort of internal horror, he realized he was the one blushing now.

“See, and you thought there was nothing new we could find out about each other,” Steve smiled widely, making Bucky even redder for some reason.

“I knew it,” he responded, because no matter how angry he’d been back then, secretly he’d understood Steve’s motives from the start. “Thank you for that.”

***

As it turned out, the movie theater was close enough they were able to walk there from the restaurant. The evening was still pleasant and either because metal prosthetics had recently become a common occurrence, or simply because no one cared, they were able to walk down the street without anyone sparing as much as a glance in their direction.

Steve stayed close to him the entire way, so much so that sometimes their hands were bushing against each other as they walked. Not once, Bucky found himself wishing to reach out, to wrap his arm around Steve’s shoulders even if it would look awkward and would probably be uncomfortable given their difference in heights.

Plus, if anyone would actually recognize them... well, there had already been too many stupid rumors about Steve, Bucky didn’t want to add to it.

The movie itself was a senseless action flick, the name of which Bucky hadn’t even heard before, but found himself grinning at nonetheless. “Really?” He chuckled as he glanced at his companion. “You hate things like that.”

“You like it though,” Steve shrugged, sounding rather casual, but there was a slight joy to his voice that a different person might’ve missed.

Truth be told, Steve was not entirely correct. Bucky had outgrown his inability to appreciate more serious things long time ago, yet his friend’s choice made him feel like they were back in the forties, sneaking out Camp Lehigh to go watch Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde one more time, or whatever else was shown in the nearby theater.

It wasn’t even about the movie itself, not really. It was about Bucky dragging his always too serious friend to have fun, about stealing Steve’s popcorn in the dark auditorium, about taking their sweet time to return back to the camp, and about Steve taking the blame for being late for the curfew in front of some low brass who had no idea who they were.

“Like good ol’ times, huh?” Bucky chuckled as they were settling before the big screen.

It wasn’t the same, of course. The chairs were comfortable now, ones you could lunge on, with plenty of legroom. There were movie previews now at the start, not the war newsreels from Europe, not the advertisement that tried to sell war bonds, but Bucky felt the same anticipation in his chest born out of nostalgia.

He expected Steve to point out that ‘good ol’ days had people dying in thousands on the front lines, but his friend chuckled instead, his intonation warm. “You were such a nuisance, Buck, kept talking over the movie.”

“Oh, you want an authentic experience?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, before taking air into his lungs. “Is this what they think what aliens look like? What an absurd!” he said loud enough several people glanced in their direction.

Steve looked at him sternly, but there was glint in his eyes, his lips quirked slightly as he was trying to suppress a grin. “Buck,” he warned.

Bucky mustered an expression as innocent as he was only capable. “What? It’s like, we get alien invasions every other Saturday,” he complained trying to imitate the intonations of his younger self. “And they still can’t get it right!“

Steve shook his head. “You’re right. I did miss this,” he said fondly. And then, before Bucky could even notice him move, he reached out and took Bucky’s hand into his. Giving him a reassuring smile and a gentle squeeze, Steve turned his attention to the screen completely, leaving Bucky to sit on his spot motionless, with his mouth agape at the unexpectancy of the gesture.

Steve’s hand felt nice, although. His fingers were calloused from years of fighting, from the leather straps of his shield, but it was warm and grounding in ways Bucky could have never imagined. Without giving it a second thought, he started to relax, his own fingers slipping between Steve’s, locking together like they belonged.

***

By the time the movie ended, it was completely dark outside. Still, the city was full of life, every street brightly illuminated by the lamps that tinted the asphalt soft shades of orange, blending with the white and yellow lights coming from the street front stores.

The sounds of the crowd was mixing with the sounds of traffic, the cacophony of which was going to diminish only closer to the morning, and even then for only a few hours.

It became colder, too, and while Bucky wore a jacket, it was light enough he could still feel every breath of chilly wind sneaking its way under the leather. Yet, he didn’t dare to complain, not while his friend continued to hold his hand as they exited the theater. Not when he wrapped both of his arms even tighter this time around Bucky’s torso as they rode his bike back to Steve’s apartment.

“So, you wanna come in?” Steve asked as they arrived at the still unremarkable brownstone. “I’ve got some good coffee.”

Bucky almost laughed nervously at the question, fighting an urge to explain that offering your dates coffee could’ve been interpreted as asking them to stay for the night. Even after several serious relationships, Steve could still be clueless about the nuances of flirting. But it was also possible he knew exactly what he was offering, and for the first time since he’d met Steve all these years ago, Bucky had no idea which one it was.

He really needed to refuse, not to make any unnecessary impressions, even if a part of him was really curious how far this evening could go if he simply rolled with whatever his friend had in mind.

Cold gust of wind blew from the East River and, without Steve blanketing his back, Bucky had to fight a shiver, his every breath accompanied by a puff of steam. “Unless your coffee is iced, I’m gonna take you up on that offer,” he grinned, climbing off the bike.

Steve waited for him to lock the thing, before leading him through the black and yellow barricade with a ‘do not cross’ sign, to the side of the building that looked like nothing but an empty wall. Bucky had lived in this building before, when he’d been the one carrying the Captain America mantle. He knew that in reality it was a hologram that covered the entrance to the building. Watching Steve passing right through it was not particularly remarkable.

“You know, I’m really glad I returned here,” Steve said as they rode the elevator onto the third floor. He looked relaxed, leaning into the railing, but there was some sort of tension in his shoulders Bucky couldn’t explain. “I mean, living in the Avengers Mansion was nice, but sometimes I missed the seclusion.”

Plus Sharon stayed there, so it might’ve also been a reason. “Honestly, I have no idea how you managed to live there for as long as you did. It’s like a crazy student dorm, but instead of neighbors blasting music past sleeping hours, you get occasional explosions.”

Steve chuckled at that. “I guess I’m just that used to occasional explosions,” he said. “The view here is still better,” he added softer, almost exactly as the elevator door opened and they stepped into the large living room.

And yes, Bucky wasn’t born in this city, but even he’d developed a nostalgic association, could appreciate the aesthetics. There was a row of large windows running down the wall, almost the entirety of the Brooklyn Bridge appearing in them.

The lights were off in the apartment, but the bridge was brightly lit at night, and the windows provided enough illumination to see almost every detail in here, painted every wall, every piece of furniture in soft tones.

“Not too shabby,” Bucky agreed with a nod, moving further inside, the wooden planks of the floor creaking slightly under his weight. “I myself miss it sometimes.”

There was anxiety in him that he didn’t wish to analyze, but it was growing stronger with each passing moment. To distract himself, he eyed the couch, wondering if he could ask Steve to just crush there for the night. It was a comfortable one, but short, not enough space for a grown man to lay down. That only made him even more nervous, a strange kind of hope growing stronger inside him.

“You gonna make me that coffee now?” he asked, rubbing his one real hand against his side, trying to return the sensation into his ice-cold fingers. “Holding something warm would be great right about now.”

Instead of answering, Steve took a step closer, his own hands coming to wrap around Bucky’s good hand. “I can help with that,” he said quietly, bringing the hand to his face, so close Bucky could feel his warm breath.

Steve’s own palms were warm, almost hot, as if he hadn’t just spent the same amount of time outside. He was massaging Bucky’s hand with his fingers with an incredible gentleness, and that warmth was spreading up Bucky’s arm, moving from there to his chest, before settling somewhere at the pit of his stomach in a most pleasant manner.

Without saying a word, Steve reached for the clasp of Bucky’s fingerless glove, doing a quick job of unfastening it, before he began to slowly pull the glove off Bucky’s hand. That was such an innocent gesture on its own, but the expression on Steve’s face, the glint in his eyes that Bucky could see so clear even in the dimness of the apartment, made his heart pick up its pace.

Dropping the glove somewhere onto the floor Steve blew warm air at the hand one more time. Then his lips carefully landed on the battled skin on Bucky’s knuckles, making his entire body shudder at the contact, a barely audible gasp escaping him.

There was not even a doubt in Bucky’s mind about where exactly this was going. On some level it terrified him, yet he could do nothing but watch mesmerized as his friend was covering his palm with small kisses, moving even closer into Bucky’s personal space.

Then Steve turned to him completely and one of his hands slid up over Bucky’s metal shoulder, while the other cupped the side of his head. “Buck, I...” he said softly, rubbing the cheekbone with a thumb of his finger. “I want to... if you let me.”

There was just enough time for Bucky to look up, to see such fondness in Steve’s face that it almost overwhelmed him. Then Steve was leaning in, pressing their lips together.

Even If Bucky was fully prepared for it, it still found himself flinching. It was strange, and not because Bucky needed to hold his face up, not because he could feel the prickle of a stubble on his friend’s chin as they kissed, but because this was Steve.

Bucky sighed into the kiss, his own hands coming up, as if on their own accord to rest on the other man’s waist. He started to move his lips against Steve’s, slow at first, almost experimentally, as if trying it out. Then he grew bolder, his tongue darting out to explore the inside of Steve’s mouth, lost completely in a physical sensation of the kiss and his own feelings.

Where was a moment the tender kiss was starting to turn into more. Bucky couldn’t tell when, but at some point he felt Steve’s hand playing with the hem of his shirt, sliding his fingers under it. He guessed he’d never given Steve enough credit for boldness, but then again, his own hands fell down to knead the unreasonably taut muscles of his friend’s ass, so he wasn’t the one to talk.

A deep groan rose from Steve’s throat, and he rolled his hips, making Bucky feel exactly how their actions were affecting him, and, alright, that sensation was entirely new to Bucky. It distracted him long enough he barely noticed being pushed backwards, until his back touched a rough, textured surface of the brick wall.

There must’ve been some sort of hesitation Steve could sense from him, because the next instance he pulled away, just enough he could look Bucky in the eyes.

“Is this ok?” he asked, because of course he would. Because all the small, greedy sounds that Bucky was making into his mouth, all the shudders that ran through this body at the other man’s touch would not have been enough of an answer for him. Not on their own.

And the thing was, it wasn’t ok. It was as far from being ok as it only could. There was an entire list of reasons why they shouldn’t do it, yet in Bucky’s current stance of scrambled mind, he had difficulties recollecting a single one of them.

And worse of all, he knew, if he’d only bring up one of these reasons up now, Steve would stop, he would pull away and leave Bucky lost and alone. Bucky didn’t want that.

“Yeah, it’s ok,” he nodded almost frantically. He pulled Steve against himself once again, pressing them flush against one another, kissing him deep, desperate. He felt Steve’s body solid and hot, and every last thought about the cold night outside this apartment was instantly forgotten.

It reminded Bucky distantly of all the cold winter nights they spent in trenches on the front lines, where huddling for warmth wasn’t even optional, when much too exhausted to keep his teenage mind in check, Bucky had allowed himself to enjoy the closeness and let his mind wander.

What if Steve’s lips that had been pressed into a thin line from worry and exhaustion would press against his instead. What if his hand that had been rubbing Bucky’s shoulders in reassurance after yet another solo mission would touch his skin instead of the wool, winter fabric of his blue and red uniform.

What if the glances Bucky had kept catching from his partner across the campfire, from across French and English bars where Bucky flirted with local girls as Steve sat quietly in the corner, meant something more. They had always been so soft, so gentle, the way Steve kept sneaking them when he thought no one watched, it had never failed to warm Bucky's heart.

There was nothing soft or gentle in Steve’s touches now, however. Hearing the words of permission, he was all over him again, his mouth landing on his neck, lips and tongue tasting his skin there, feeling so hot Bucky thought they could burn him. 

Steve’s hands went to the hem of Bucky’s old t-shirt, diving under it and starting to slide up his stomach, his chest, riding the soft fabric with his movement. His thumb glazed over Bucky’s nipple, tearing another soft gasp out of him. Humming satisfyingly at the result, he repeated the gesture again and again, turning Bucky into a squirming, moaning mess.

Bucky’s entire body buzzing under Steve’s touch, and every sound the other man made was making him tremble in anticipation. Any semblance of coherent thought was gone from his mind, and he felt like falling into an endless emptiness. Except he wasn’t scared, shielded by his friend’s big, solid form, enveloped into his embrace.

“Uh, Steve,” he managed to call finally, as his shirt rode high enough, his bare back was now pressed against the rugged surface of the wall. “Not that I’m complaining, but you think we at least could make it to the couch?”

Steve laughed against his collarbone, and the vibration of it echoed through Bucky’s entire body. “Let’s try making it all the way to the bedroom,” he smiled pulling away, his voice low and thick with arousal. “I know, I know, it’s a difficult task, but we’ve faced scarier things before.”

With that he simply lifted Bucky off the ground, as if he weighed nothing, Bucky’s legs wrapping around Steve’s hips, his arms trying to hold into his unreasonably wide shoulders. Their erections pressed against  each other like that, sending another explosion of speaks behind Bucky’s eyelids.

He thought being manhandled like that should’ve made him annoyed, that he should’ve groaned and told Steve he could still walk on his own, but instead he only chortled, feeling weak on his knees and lightheaded. Leaning in once again, capturing Steve’s lips with his, he simply allowed to be carried deeper into the still dark apartment

***

It was a noise of traffic outside the window that woke Bucky up, a kind of mixture of sounds he was unused to after living away from civilization for the last several years.

His still not completely awake brain demanded to turn onto another side and bury his head under a pillow and try to fall back asleep. The bed under him felt warm and comfortable, smelling still clean, like a lavender clothes detergent.

A ship horn sounded from somewhere in the distance, making him groan and open his eyes, a familiar room with bare brick walls greeting him. There was a large window right above the bed, bright morning sun shining through plain white curtains, falling onto the mess of blankets around him.

Little detail about his surroundings started to register in his mind, like the fact he was completely naked under the said blankets. It took another blink of his eye to remember Steve’s sure hands undressing him, the discarded items of clothing landing somewhere on the floor, out of sight. Looking around now, he found it carefully folded on a chair next to the bed. 

Well, crap. What had he done? With his best friend, too.

Biting his lower lip, Bucky hid his burning face into the palm of his metal hand, the smooth surface of it still warm from staying hidden under the pillow.

The side of the bed next to him was thankfully empty, and Bucky shut down the part of him that was disappointed by it. Distantly, he could hear Steve moving around. That meant Bucky needed to get up, too, before Steve decided to go check on him — facing his friend was already going to be awkward, and Bucky really didn’t want to be naked for it.

Finishing with his task, he slowly moved out of the bedroom and found himself back in the spacious living area, realizing it had been years since he saw it in the light of morning. It seemed even more spacious now, but also much cozier, with a surprising amount of colors in rugs and furniture. Even the Brooklyn Bridge looked brighter now from the same row of windows, despite grey clouds that blanketed the sky.

Steve wasn't here either, but Bucky could hear him speaking to somebody quietly in the kitchen. There weren't any other voices answering him, which led him to believe it was over the phone.

“I really can’t tell if you can come over today, let me just call you in a few hours?” Steve was saying to someone. 

Bucky didn’t want to eavesdrop, but the only way not to do it, would be to turn around and return to the bedroom, and it seemed like a lot of unnecessary effort. Instead, he moved to the doorway leading into the kitchen and leaned on the doorframe, not announcing his presence, but not hiding either.

“No, I can’t tell you that either yet, but I’m good. Really good,” Steve continued meanwhile. He moved around with a phone in one of his hands, and a spatula in the other, an entire pan filled with half cooked scrambled eggs and bacon on the stove before him.

The food smelled good, and Steve sounded happy, and something inside Bucky twisted unpleasantly at his feeling of regret. It was obvious his best friend didn’t have any, and Bucky was staring at him dumbfounded trying to figure out how to proceed without hurting him.

“Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea, we can meet there after I figure the time,” Steve said, humming into the receiver. “How’s mom doing by the way? Yeah? That’s great,” he chuckled, then his eyes moved around the kitchen, until stopping on Bucky, his lips curing into a wide smile. “Listen, I gotta go, but I talk to you later, ok? Love you, too. Bye.”

With that, Steve hung the phone and turned to Bucky completely. “It was Ian,” he explained as he pocketed the device and turned the burner under the pan off.

“Yeah, I figured,” Bucky smirked, because really, who else Steve would tell he loved them in front of a guy he just slept with.

The thought immediately sent a terrified shiver down Bucky’s spine, making him feel like a complete ass. Steve behaved like he expected this to continue, expected for Bucky to move into the kitchen fully and give him a hug and a morning kiss, and he wouldn’t have even cared if Bucky’s teeth were unbrushed.

And Bucky just wanted to run away and don’t look back. At least until he managed to sort his emotions and figure out what to do next.

It all was most likely written over his face, because Steve looked him up and down, and his smile began to falter, making Bucky want to hit himself with his own metal fist. 

“Hey, no, wait!” Bucky shook his head and finally stepped into the kitchen completely. “I’m not... it’s just... a lot to process,” he finished waving his hands in front of himself. He pondered if he needed to give Steve a reassuring hug, but found himself cowering.

He wasn’t lying about it, Bucky was simply lost, confused, and Steve was just standing there, still holding the pan of food, looking at him with a surprisingly understanding expression, which for some reason was making it even worse. It made Bucky want to be swallowed by the floor in Steve’s kitchen not to have to deal with this awkward morning.

“Would you be upset at me if I leave you right after breakfast?” he asked remembering he actually had an excuse to do so. Not that he didn’t wish to sprint towards the door right away, but it would've been very rude. “Promised to meet up with Natasha in a few hours. Didn’t expect to sleep so long.”

Steve didn’t know about Kobik, and Bucky wished he could tell the entire truth. Maybe he should’ve done it by now, as he was sure his friend wouldn’t tell anybody either. Bucky wouldn’t have to worry about word getting out, and S.H.I.E.L.D. knocking on his figurative door a few days after.

Yet, he surely wasn’t going to do it now — it was probably the most inappropriate moment.

The smile finally returned to Steve's face, yet it didn’t look as cheerful as earlier. “You looked like you needed some rest.”

“Felt like it, too,” Bucky tried to smile, forcing himself to keep the cheerful façade for Steve’s sake. Moving a chair, he took a seat at the table. “So. I remember you promised me some coffee,” he reminded, wondering how fast he could manage to finish it.

Chapter Text

Bucky knew he needed to call Natasha and go pick up Kobik, especially considering he was already much later than he promised. He could summon a portal leading to his ship, but he didn’t want to see anyone, talk to anyone. He needed an hour or two to gather his thoughts, and so he started his motorcycle and drove aimlessly around the city instead.

Almost as if trying to betray his confused mood, all of the clouds he saw in the sky earlier cleared out and the weather was as nice as it was the day before. Bucky wished it was raining, wished he could sulk under the downpour, until the cold was too much to bear.

Finally, when he was sure he couldn’t postpone the inevitable, he found a secluded spot to activate his teleporter. Another moment, and both him and his bike appeared in the middle of a forest in front of the silvery metal plates of the Archaeopteryx.

There was a surprise waiting for him inside the ship: Natasha was sitting in the lounge. He had no idea how she was able to find him, because he for sure didn’t remember giving her the coordinates. Perhaps, he needed to swipe the ship for bugs again, but he doubted it was going to be on the top of his priorities for at least another week.

Natasha was hunched over a short coffee table, drawing something together with Kobik, and a picture of it warmed Bucky’s heart. A distant corner of his mind decided to probe around the idea that this could’ve been his life, his family, but now it didn't feel as warm or real as it had been once. It was nostalgic, sure, but it also didn’t send him into a twirl of heartbreak and misery, making him realize he didn’t feel the same about her, moved on without even noticing it.

“Hey, James,” she greeted softly, raising her eyes to look up.

“Hey, guys,” he nodded. “Whatcha drawing there?”

Kobik grinned happily and showed him a piece of paper full of doodles of various animals that were composed of sticks and ovals. It was rather basic drawings, but the animals were recognizable enough. “Natasha was teaching me,” she said proudly.

“I’m afraid the student has already surpassed the teacher,” Natasha shrugged amused. “You should really ask your new boyf—“ she stopped mid sentence, likely reading something in Bucky’s expression, her own look turning very serious. “Um, Kobik, honey, could you wait here for a moment, I need to talk to Bucky.”

“Ok, just don’t talk too long. Bucky promised to make me pancakes when he returned,” Kobik nodded as Natasha got up from her spot and nodded for Bucky to follow her to his quarters. She led him there, as if she was the one living on this ship. 

“You owe me a favor for this, by the way,” she sighed as the door hissed closed behind them.

“I owe you a lifetime worth of favors, Tash. Where would I even begin to return them?” Bucky sighed, dropping to sit on the edge of his own bed, trying not to think how much less comfortable it was than the one in Steve’s apartment.

“So, how was your... totally not a romantic date?” She raised an eyebrow, as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You seem really down after it.”

Bucky leaned forward to rub his face with the palm of his real hand. “We...” he started tentatively, still not entirely convinced he should tell her the truth. Then again, Natasha was one of the closest people in his life, and if he couldn’t talk to her about it, he couldn’t to anyone. “I... I sort of accidentally slept with him,” he blurted finally, avoiding looking at her directly.

She stared at him for a moment, blinking once, twice, before exhaling slowly. Then she began speaking with a sort of dumbfounded astonishment. “Accidentally? Did he trip and fall on you or something?”

Bucky glared at her, but it only made Natasha laugh. It might’ve offended him a little, if not for the strain in her voice that told him she wasn’t really amused. “Oh my god, James,” she shook her head. “Didn’t I tell you to make sure the two of you were on the same page? Or did your higher brain forgot how thinking works?”

The thing was, Bucky did see they were not in fact on the same page, but the one Steve was reading from seemed so much more interesting at the time, that he even didn’t mind skipping a good chunk of important plot as he jumped straight to the action scene.

“Not funny,” Bucky muttered looking away, knowing too well he was confirming her words with the gesture. “You speak as if you know it wasn’t a spur of the moment for him, same as it was for me. Do you know something I don’t?”

“No,” she replied. “But I know Steve enough. I can barely imagine him sleeping with somebody with no real forethought, moreover with you.”

She was right, and hearing her voice the idea out loud made Bucky feel so much worse. “I fucked it up, Tash. I really did,” he exhaled, hiding his face into his palms completely, another bout of panic over possibly ruining his relationship with Steve almost overwhelming him. “What should I even do now?”

Bucky heard Natasha moving closer to him, a bed next to him creaking under her weight. Her hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, rubbing it gently, reassuringly. “Steve is not a guy who’d fool around, have something casual. And he doesn’t need more hurting, not after Sharon. So how I see it, you either take it seriously and actually start a relationship with him, or explain to him you want to stay friends right away.”

She was right, but there was a problem with her suggestion. No matter what people thought about him, he was taking things like that seriously, too. He imagined calling Steve and telling him that he had no romantic interest in him, and he couldn’t. His confused feelings about it were terrifying.

“You want him, but unsure,” she observed. “Is it because of me? Because of how we ended?” For a second Bucky forgot how to breathe. She was brainwashed a few years ago, and then Bucky thought he managed to save her, snap her out of mind control. Only it was just a pretense, and Natasha ended up almost killing Nick Fury later.

Steve has been brainwashed recently, and... No, Bucky didn’t believe Steve still worked for Hydra, his trust in his friend had never faltered. Neither he worried Steve could forget him.

“I don’t know, really,” he sighed finally. It might've been because the situation was so similar, or maybe he was afraid because Steve had always been a constant in his life, even when he himself hadn’t remembered it. Somebody who helped him believe he was a better man than he considered himself to be. Somebody who was always there even with half a galaxy between them. And now it felt as if it was somehow about to change.

Then Natasha said something for which he was more thankful than he was capable of expressing. “If you’re afraid of losing him because of what happened... You’ve never lost me.”

“True,” Bucky sighed, her words giving him confidence.

“You’ll get through it, both of you,” she smiled, still rubbing his shoulder. “You like him.”

“Obviously.”

“No, you really do. It might come as a surprise, but I’m certain you had a crush on the man since the two of you met.”

Bucky glared at her again. He tried to argue, tell it was a ridiculous notion, but he was no longer certain himself.

“Besides,” she added, sounding much more mischievous this time, “I remember how much you loved my strap-on, nice for you to finally experience the real deal.”

Bucky felt his cheeks burn, and he groaned. “Bold of you to assume I would be the one on the receiving end,” he retorted, before noticing her own smirk. “You’re just fishing for details now, aren’t you?”

“You’d do it in my place, too,” she shrugged.

“It didn’t go that far,” Bucky sighed, trying not to sound disappointed. Still, what they did was more than enough to make him almost shiver as he recollected the events of the night.

Dim light of Steve’s bedside lamp had been reflected in his eyes, illuminating him enough to see how much his pupils were blown with desire. His reddened from the kisses lips were stretched around Bucky’s shaft, his tongue swirling over the sensitive skin. His hair was so soft under Bucky’s palm, too, his head bobbing up and down. Almost mesmerized, Bucky was watching his cock disappear into his friend's perhaps not very experienced, but welcoming mouth.

And then, "Wait, what do you mean, you remember?" Bucky blinked.

"Do I now?" She raised an eyebrow. "I can't believe you actually fell for that." Then Natasha patted him on the back and stood up from the bed. “Don’t think about it too hard,” she chuckled, making Bucky want to throw a pillow into her direction. “What are you planning to feed me and Kobik anyway? We’ve been here since nine.”

Bucky looked at her, and offered her a tired smile. He really owed her a lifetime worth of favors and then some. “Well, you heard Kobik, I’ve got some pancake mix at the galley.”

***

Bucky looked around the mountain range, trying to fix the collar of his jacket in a way so it would cover as much of his neck as it was possible. It helped little against the freezing wind on a high elevation, and he shivered.

It was a secluded location, hidden from the prying eyes with rocky slopes. The place was barely marked on any map, and the moment they approached it, all the GPS signals on their gear went haywire, like if someone was actively scrambling it.

“Does it seem familiar to you?” Steve asked, nodding at the facility built right into the side of the mountain. At some point in time it used to be very discreet, and difficult to notice the entrance to. Now there was a big charred mark across the grey rocky slope, as if something exploded inside.

Bucky shrugged, innocently poking some loose rocks under his feet with a tip of his boot. The gravel made a distinguished crunching sound, before starting to roll down the hill, until it reached the edge of a cliff they were standing on and started to fall down.

Bucky wasn’t able to hear it landing.

“It used to belong to S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he nodded. “But I’m fairly certain they cleaned it out and erased almost all information about it. How did you even find it?” he turned to Sam and Ian.

There were four of them today, and Bucky wondered if it was Steve who asked his other best friend and his son to tug along, or if they volunteered to join. The only thing Steve had told him was that they were the one who helped track the A.I.M. activities to this location.

“Tailed one of their agents for almost a week,” Sam shrugged like it was nothing, yet Bucky knew firsthand how careful these scientists were, how smart. Finding one that made a mistake big enough he could’ve been followed was either a lot of hard work, or even bigger amount of luck. “I had no idea this used to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. base however.”

“Ah,” Steve made a sound, which was impossible to interpret, before turning to Bucky. “Was it the one you blew up a couple years back?” he asked, yet he didn’t sound admonishing. On the contrary, there was almost some kind of pride in his voice, as if he was showing off before their companions.

“You blew up a S.H.I.E.L.D. base?” Ian asked, amused.

“They deserved it,” Bucky shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, something people just had on their daily to-do lists. “There were like two people, and I made sure they made it out without even a scratch,” he added, feeling he needed to clarify it.

“Do you think now would be a good time to actually contact Director Hill?” Sam inquired. “Not that I really wish to work with her, but we are on the same side here. And it’s their old base.”

“Currently Hill is off my back, but I really don’t wish to remind her about blowing up any bases,” Bucky told. “Besides, I recently sent her flowers.”

“Ouch!” Sam flinched. “Yeah, I can see why it’s a bad idea then.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m fairly certain S.H.I.E.L.D. has been tracking my movements, and given every signal went out in this general area, I wouldn’t be surprised if they noticed me going off the grid and having a helicarrier inbound.” 

“Or they might think we went on a really weird vacation, and just ignore us,” Ian pointed out. “Wouldn’t be the first time they accidentally forgot about us either.”

“Nah, they do it only when it’s convenient,” Sam offered.

“Alright guys, if you’re done dishing the dirt on people I work with, we could try doing some scouting,” Steve said. “As I was specifically asked not to go anywhere dangerous, I’m certain they are going to show up. So I’d rather be out of here before it happens. If I remember it correctly, this base had two entrances, so we could split up to check both of them. Ian, you’ll go with Sam. Bucky’s with me.”

Bucky almost froze in his spot, feeling as if he was kicked in the chest, all of the wind knocked out of him. Suddenly, he became really anxious about finding himself alone with his friend.

It’s been almost a week since their date, and they had barely spoken the entire time. Steve had tried to call him a few times, but Bucky kept hanging up and texting back that he was busy. It was a low move, and Bucky knew it, but he could do nothing about his uncertainty. He had no idea what he was going to tell Steve, whether the night they shared was going to change what they were to each other, or stay one wonderful memory.

A part of him wanted to try being with Steve. It was so nice to feel like he mattered to somebody again. It wasn’t even about sex, but about belonging, about filling an emptiness that had been inside him for years.

That part grew bigger with each passing day.

Then again, what if their relationship wouldn’t hold up as romantic. At least not now, not yet. Steve had spent years with Sharon. Three months was not enough time to even start healing.

He believed, of course, Steve slept with him not because he needed to get his ex girlfriend out of his head, but Bucky knew a thing or two about jumping into somebody’s bed before managing to move on, even feeling euphoric about it, limerent. Only all the butterflies had flown away in the end, leaving him with an even bigger hole in his stomach that was previously there.

“You ok there?” Steve’s voice sounded somewhere right beside him, a hand landing on Bucky’s shoulder making him flinch from surprise.

He turned to look at Steve, expecting to see him hurt from such a reaction, yet the expression on the other man’s face was soft, even with a note of humour. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought,” Bucky offered him a smile.

“Figured,” Steve nodded. “Let’s go, we still need to make it down to the base.”

***

They split up even before descending down. Capable of both flying and carrying a person, Sam moved towards the other end of the base, taking Ian with him. That left Steve and Bucky with about fifty foot of loose rocks, which in reality was a far less impressive descent than it seemed.

“So, how was your meeting with Natasha?” Steve asked casually when they reached the needed level. Pushing a button on his wrist, he got the grappling hook he used for climbing down to fold and detach from the top of the slope, the thing falling down with a soft whoosh.

“Meeting?” Bucky raised an eyebrow and then immediately wanted to punch himself. “I mean, yeah, it was fine.”

Steve laughed at that. “I realized you just needed to get out, Buck. Don’t worry about it.”

“Jokes on you, cause I did have a meeting with her. I wasn’t lying to you.”

“A week long meeting?” Steve chuckled again, much too warm, more than the situation called for. 

But that made Bucky flinch, his guilt for avoiding Steve feeling like a physical punch.   “If you’re telling me that didn’t hurt you at all, I’m not buying,” Bucky shook his head, finishing to fold his own grappling hook.

Taking a deep breath, Steve went silent for a moment. “No, I just mean I understand. To tell the truth, I needed some time to think about it, too.”

Bucky nodded. They stood side to side, but his eyes were glued to his own feet, so he couldn’t tell for sure that Steve saw the gesture. 

He wished they didn’t need to talk about it, wished it could resolve itself somehow, but it was never going to happen. This was a perfect moment for a conversation, too, with Steve already starting it, yet Bucky couldn’t push a single word out of himself. “And you think it would be a good idea? For us to be anything more than friends, I mean?”

“You want me to predict the future? I’m sorry Buck, I don’t have this kind of superpower. If you want to know whether or not I believe it can work... than yeah. If we both put an effort into it.”

Bucky gave him another pathetic nod, deciding to choose this moment to pull out his rifle and check one more time if his magazine was full. The thing went out and back into the place with a soft metallic click. He’d done it several times by now, but it helped occupy his hands. 

There was a thin serpentine path leading towards the base, that wasn’t really all that dangerous or scary, but Bucky doubted more than one person could walk down it at a time. He allowed Steve to go first, following him not far behind, pondering about his words.

“I’m a little surprised, although,” Steve said with a chuckle, which Bucky could only hear, without being able to see his expression. “Didn’t expect you to even umm... respond to my kiss. Not to mention the rest.”

Bucky’s ears burned a little at the reminder. “Why not?”

Steve’s shoulders rolled in a shrug, and he tried not to think about how the movement of the other man’s muscles underneath his uniform seemed almost erotic. It was, perhaps, inevitable after he’d learned how this shift felt under his palms while Steve grinded against him. “Don’t know,” Steve said. “Just always thought you’d never be interested... with another man.”

The way Steve was pausing to find correct words actually calmed Bucky a little, letting him know, his friend was as flustered as he was, yet also curious enough to continue talking.

“You’re not just some man,” Bucky replied honestly, which made Steve slow down and look at him, a soft smile on his face. “I’m more surprised you wanted to kiss me in the first place. Or even look my way.”

“I guess, it’s as good a time as any to mention you are not the only guy I looked at.”

This made Bucky stop in his tracks, staring at Steve with surprise, as if he just now discovered his secret identity. “Huh?” he managed a single sound, trying to push a sudden feeling of betrayal away.

“Is that upsetting you?” Steve asked seriously, turning to face him completely, so now they stood in the middle of the pathway, practically in the open view of anyone who decided to come out the base for a smoke.

“No, I’m just surprised, I though I knew everything about you, but it’s the first time I hear about it,” Bucky answered honestly. “Did you think I’d be disgusted?” He had no idea why it was suddenly so important, or why it made him feel jealous of all things. In fact, the moment the words were out of his mouth, he realized how stupid he sounded, because Steve didn’t owe this kind of explanation to anyone. Sadly, it was too late to take them back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, really.”

Steve exhaled slowly bringing his gloved hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. “God, I wish we could have this conversation somewhere else, but I’m unsure when you’ll let me get a hold of you again. Yes, I’ve never told you. After I got you back, it wasn’t relevant anymore, and back during the war... Sure, I trusted you not to judge, to keep it a secret, but I was afraid you’d figure out I had feelings for you.”

“Assume you had feelings for me, you mean?”

“No, Buck, I said it exactly as I intended.”

It felt like somebody pulled the rug from under Bucky’s feet, and he was now falling down into an endless abyss, his entire world turning upside down. And he’d complained to Fury once that Steve had conjured an image of him and believed it to be true, while never taking time to get to know him. In the end, he thought, both of them were a little guilty of it, but at least Steve was doing it to make Bucky’s miserable existence better. Bucky, on the other hand, was simply an idiot.

“I used to have feelings,” Steve continued, accenting the past tense. “I've had a crush on you before we even shipped out to Europe.”

“You had a crush on sixteen year old me?” Bucky blinked, feeling completely dumbfounded. “The great Captain America, first masked hero, had a crush on some army brat?”

Steve laughed. “Yeah. Don’t forget, I used to be a scrawny little teenager only months before I met you. And just so we're clear, I've never had any inappropriate thoughts about you at the time. But yeah, I was starting to fall for you back then. Learned to push it away, never did anything about it. Then time had passed, both of us changed, both became different people, both found others we loved, and I thought that what I felt for you back in the days, it went away.

And then you asked me out, and I thought, why not? Every reason that has ever held me back is irrelevant now. You’re not a kid anymore, we’re both single, and I’m not worried I’d ruin your life or career because both of us are men.”

Bucky could do nothing but stare at him, with his mouth agape. That is how Steve operated, he talked, he found out what other people thought, what they felt, and was expressing his own mind. But where Steve could put his emotions into words, Bucky was bad at it. Not that he never could put two words together, but it has never been on this level.

“And what if Sharon decides she regrets leaving you?” He gulped finally, understanding now he had no chance to put a stop to it, to the feeling that was growing, swirling inside his chest, breaking every wall he’d built to protect himself like a hurricane.

A ping of pain appeared in Steve’s eyes. “Let me be honest with you, I wish I could spend the rest of my life with her, but it won’t happen. I can’t tell why, it’s not my place to go into detail, but we weren’t really together ever since my evil clone tried to take over the world two years ago. Three months ago... we just finally let each-other go, I guess. Leaving in the past simply wasn’t working for us. It doesn’t work for anyone.”

There were tears in Bucky’s eyes now, even if he thought there was no real reason for him to get emotional. Trying to be subtle about it, he wiped them with his hand and nodded. “Dammit, Cap, you know, you really need to lay off your epic speeches once in a while.”.

“How else would I convince you to go out with me again?” Steve replied, his voice suddenly very close, his hand landing under Bucky’s chin, lifting it up to face him.

“Master tactician in war and love? That’s fucking unfair,” Bucky managed to joke, understanding he had not even a semblance of a fight left in him.

Steve groaned either because Bucky’s words humored him, or he was chiding the other man’s choice of words. Then he made another step forward, his stomach pressing into the side of the rifle Bucky still clenched in his grip. His face ended up close enough it was possible to feel his breath ticking Bucky’s lips, and Bucky found himself closing his eyes waiting for a kiss to come. “There’s a little I’m also uncertain about. And I’m also afraid to mess things up, but—”

There was a hissing sound coming from their wrists as the communicators came back online, Sam choosing this exact moment to contact them. “All right, targets neutralized, you can go home now,” he announced, his voice mixing with static noise.

Steve stepped away, his spot immediately taken by icy mountain air, and Bucky wasn’t sure if he needed to thank Sam for that or cuss him. “What?” he replied into the audio receiver in his glove.

”Just kidding,” Sam’s voice hissed again. “But there’s really nothing to do for us here, the place is cleared out. Recently, too, like there’s still somebody’s hot coffee on the table in the control room. Where are you, guys?”

“On our way,” Steve announced and started to walk towards the old facility with a purpose, his mind seemingly completely switched to the task at hand.

***

It was empty inside, every step they took echoing through long dark corridors and spacious chambers.

Whoever occupied the place was indeed trying to rebuild it, but there was still plenty of old damage left from Bucky’s one person assault: some of the walls were scorched, bent from the pressure in places where he had thrown a grenade, some still had bullet holes decorating their surfaces.

The A.I.M. cell who overtook it had fixed only the hazardous parts, skipping the cosmetic reconstruction completely, as if they weren’t really caring of moving in permanently, using it only as a temporary base of operation.

“Where have you been for so long?” was the first thing out of Sam’s mouth as they reached the control center. “We were already starting to worry.”

He was sitting in front of the computer terminal with a dozen different screens, looking through what appeared to be security footage. Ian occupied the spot next to him, spinning around from time to time on his chair, looking rather bored. He turned completely to face the newcomers, offering them a smile and a wave of his hand.

There were really no excuses as to why it took them so long to reach here, and Steve didn’t even bother looking for them. “What were you able to find?” he asked instead.

Sam gifted him with a look that seemed mildly doubtful, but he allowed it to slide. “I think they were able to see us coming.”

“And here’s that dude that came for a smoke,” Bucky sighed, strapping the rifle to his back, tired of carrying it around. With his hands now free, he approached the terminal, starting to look through the logs, trying to find what A.I.M. was trying to accomplish it here. He was curious to find out what tipped them off. Jokes aside, he doubted they had any visual of them coming. Even if he and Steve made an unexpected stop in the middle of their approach for personal reasons.

Dammit, when he joined this mission he was honestly preparing himself to put a stop to whatever was going on between them before they could get any further. Now, when they almost kissed again, he could do nothing, but think about the other man’s lips.

“So, did something happen?” Ian asked curiously. “The two of you are grinning, and I don’t really see a reason for it.”

Trying to suppress the heat that crawled up his neck, Bucky switched his attention to his friend, who seemed completely unaffected by his son’s question. There was still an amused smirk on his face, as he offered Ian a shrug. “Just good to be back, going something beside being miserable, I guess,” he explained, and how he managed not to react in any incriminating way was beyond Bucky’s comprehension. “Anything interesting in the logs?”

Sam glanced back to look Steve up and down, most likely noticing him purposely changing the subject, but he didn’t comment. “Let’s see,” he said as he started to look through some files on the base’s still working network. “Well, isn’t it interesting. That Kree weapon you told me about, apparently S.H.I.E.L.D. used to be in its possession. They had no idea at first what it was and tried to trade it to somebody to sponsor several other projects.”

“I and Buck stopped that trade from happening,” Steve nodded.

“Yeah, except now they decided to dig through the schematics and figure out what it was,” Sam replied. “They are very close to it, by the looks of it.”

“It might not even be a weapon,” Ian proposed. “Kree do build things besides weapons, right? They can be just trying to build a very sophisticated oven.”

“Would be nice,” Steve agreed. “But let’s not get our hopes up.”

“In any way, we now need to start tracking them again now,” Bucky rubbed his tired eyes, already wondering which of his contacts he could go to.

Some strange beeping came from the panel before them, and several different screens came online. It was a security video feed, the camera zooming onto an approaching aircraft. Just for a second, every sense in Bucky’s body came to a battle mode, before he recognized the vehicle as a helicarrier.

“Guess you were right, Steve,” Sam sighed. “That’s S.H.I.E.L.D., alright? Pretty fast, too.”

“Makes you wonder if they actually do know what was on these schematics,” Ian frowned.

In any way, it complicated things, because Bucky really didn’t want to appear on their radars more than it was absolutely necessary. Moreover, as he previously pointed it to his friends, not in the middle of a base he blew up. Granted, if the situation was different and they still had work to do here, he would’ve sucked it up. But as they were already wrapping things with their own investigation, nothing was really holding him. 

Besides, he really needed some time to think about new information Steve had so generously provided him with. And he needed to do it before his best friend decided to do any more convincing.

“Mind if I bail?” He asked, not addressing anyone in particular. 

Immediately, he saw disappointment in Steve's expression, and it made Bucky feel disgusted by his own actions. “If that is what you really want,” Steve nodded still, managing to sound understanding.

Bucky turned around, but before he made even a step towards the exit, he looked at Steve again. “I’m going to call you,” he promised, trying his best to sound as if he was talking about the job, about them taking down A.I.M. together.

“I’ll wait for it,” Steve responded.

Another nod, and Bucky was gone, leaving the cold empty base behind, and finding himself on even colder mountainside. Yet, this time he was barely noting the discomfort, his entire body feeling like on fire, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

He felt horrible, but this time it was only because more than anything he wanted to return back, he wanted to tell Steve that yes, he wanted to go on another date with him, and that he wanted to kiss him again, and be taken to his bed.

Swallowing all these desires, he forced himself to move, to march away from the base.

***

The days were becoming colder, and the air was starting to smell of snow more and more often. Yet, even if the sky was blanketed with heavy grey clouds, the streets were dry and clean from Shelbyville to Greenwood.

Still, it didn’t stop the shopping center where Bucky took Kobik for a weekend trip to start decorating for Christmas. There was a huge tree in the center of the food court and the sounds of holiday jingles were filling the spacious areas of the mall.

“I told you you needed ice cream!” Kobik pointed out. “You look too sad without it.”

They sat in the open. Greenwood was too small of a town, for it to be a target of any villain or secret organization, neither Bucky worried anyone would recognize them here. Their table was situated in a spot between the tree and a brightly lit carousel that Kobik was eying gleefully ever since they entered the food court. She hadn’t said anything yet, but Bucky had already decided to propose riding it after they finished with their dinner.

He hoped a carousel would be enough to entertain a sentient cosmic cube, who could fly freely and transport herself to different galaxies in a blink of an eye.

He was relaxed, but couldn’t help looking around for danger either, yet saw nothing but families. Several groups of school age kids were scattered around the court, some having textbooks open, yet minding no attention to them. It was as if they gathered here on a pretense of studying but were only goofing around.

Unlike the carousel, Kobik was watching them with a kind of sadness in her expression, and Bucky began wondering if she was really missing out being cut off from children her age. 

Then again, wasn’t it the exact reason they were back in Indiana, so close to his hometown? Last week Bucky had looked around for ways to buy the house that belonged to his family, wishing to give Kobik some more permanency, some normalcy. He really believed they both needed it.

“It’s way too cold for it,” Bucky replied in a shrug and leaned forward, poking at his steak and mashed potatoes without any enthusiasm. That alone could’ve been an indicator enough for anyone to see something was very off. Even on the worst days Bucky had a loving and understanding relationship with food.

The thing was, it wasn’t one of the worst days. It wasn’t even a bad one. There weren't any ends of the worlds looming over them, he wasn’t facing an enemy he wasn’t sure he had enough strength to defeat.

He wasn’t even avoiding Steve this time. In the last two weeks they texted several times with each other. Steve flirted at him. He even flirted back. They made plans to meet up for Christmas. Not for the large party at the Avengers mansion Steve was obliged to attend, but for a small dinner that was going to take place after that at his Brooklyn apartment. It was just going to be the two of them, Ian, Sam, maybe Natasha, and Bucky though it would be a very good opportunity to tell them about Kobik.

Thinking about it was making him anxious, but in a good way, almost to the point it felt more like excitement. That, in turn, was making him very, very scared. This time it wasn’t uncertainty about Steve’s intent or feelings that frightened Bucky, but the intensity of his own. 

“You know, I think I fell in love,” Bucky sighed, and then finally sent a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. 

Kobik looked up from her own plate, her eyebrow rising. “Like with the pretty blue alien lady?”

If there was anything more significant in Bucky’s mouth than mashed potatoes, he was certain he would’ve choked on it. “How do you know about it? It was before we met,” he asked, feeling panic rising in him.

Kobik only shrugged at that. “You talked on the video phone with her once.”

“No, not like that,” Bucky shook his head. He remembered that call very well, the way Ventalin smiled warmly as she told him all about her new lover, and the only thing Bucky could feel was relief.  What was he even thinking jumping in bed with her? Well, he knew the answer to his own question. Time and time again he’d proven to himself, that he didn't really stop for something as trivial as thinking when his lower head was concerned.

“Good.” Kobik nodded in approval, then sent a piece of stake into her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. “I didn’t like her. I like Steve.”

“Huh?” Bucky surprised, feeling his eyes going wider at the statement.

“You were smiling while talking to her, but you weren’t happy. You're not smiling now, but you’re happy.”

Bucky could do nothing, but sit there, staring at her in surprise, feeling suddenly lighter and warmer from her words.

“You always felt happier around Steve,” Kobik continued meanwhile, pausing for a second to send more food into her mouth. “Even when you didn’t remember him and tried to kill him. I was in your brain, remember?” she added, pointing at her own temple, as she likely noticed Bucky’s confusion. “I got your memories back.”

“I, uh, thanks.”

Biting his lip, Bucky looked away. There was a lot of meaning to unload from her words, but he got the gist of it. She was right in the end, so was Natasha. He’d had a crush on Steve for a long time, because people didn’t just wake up in the morning and find themselves in love. His feelings had been growing roots ever since they met, and came a warm day they sprouted to the surface.

“You know,” he exhales slowly, starting to suddenly feel really hungry, his barely touched plate seeming very appetizing despite having enough time to turn stone-cold. “I think I’m going to try it. Really try it, put my best effort into this relationship,” he said with intent, addressing more himself than Kobik. Not that he thought she couldn’t understand the concept, he simply felt like he needed to hear it more than her.

She was thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “You should,” she replied seriously.

Amused, Bucky snorted, then returned his attention back to his lunch, starting to send bite after bite into his mouth. They sat like that for a while, silently eating. On the corner of his eyes, he watched her dip French fries into the half melted ice cream, secretly envious, and pondering if he should really order one for himself.

Afterwards, he began pondering about what they were going to do after the dinner.  He wanted to buy her some extra clothes and maybe art supplies, and books. Of course, she was capable of conjuring all of it on her own, but Bucky though having her own things would be better. Plus it was a chance to spend some time together outside of the ship. He was in the middle of recollecting the store names that sold children’s clothes to look them up in the directory, when his phone began vibrating in the pocket of his jeans.

Pulling it out and glancing down at the collar ID, Bucky saw Steve’s name displayed on the screen, his friend’s photo smiling at him. Immediately, he felt a ping of nervous anticipation, and had to take a deep breath to try calming himself down before answering the call.

“Hey, Steve,” he greeted, doing his best attempt at keeping voice even, and not as eager as he felt. 

There was a lot of white noise coming from another side, as if Steve’s phone barely had any signal. When the voice finally came through, it was broken, distorted, half of his words swallowed by static. More than that, it definitely didn’t belong to Steve Rogers.

“... A.I.M. facility... casualties,” an obviously female voice was saying. “Winter soldier... hisss... I repeat, requesting assistance... Steve Rogers... hisss... injured,” the voice continued, sounding urgent and very familiar, and Bucky was now sure it belonged to Maria Hill. “Repeating, A.I.M. facility... hisss... astle Mountains... ada... thirty five twenty five, minus... five eleven... hisss... assistance.”

With that the call ended, leaving Bucky sitting at the table, with his eyes wide, his heart pounding in his chest. He hoped this wasn’t what he really imagined right now, that it was a simple misunderstanding. But even if it was, Steve was in danger, and a cold shiver ran down his spine.

“Kobik, I’m sorry, but we have to go,” he said, getting up. Digging through his pockets, he found a hundred dollar bill and dropped it onto the table. It was much more than their food cost, but he had no time to deal with it now. 

She didn’t look disappointed, smiling at him instead with what looked to be an understanding. “Are we going on a mission?”

Bucky opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn’t have time to call Natasha or figure any place for Kobik to stay. “Yeah, I guess we are,” he replied hoping this was not going to end in a disaster. 

***

Worrying for Steve wasn’t a new thing. His friend had been on plenty of solo missions, while Bucky had been sitting, waiting for him, unable to find a peace of mind until he saw his friend return in one piece. Still, it was before he found out what it was like to be kissed by him, before he knew how nice it was to hold his hand. It was before they made plans to spend the Christmas together. And, of course, before Bucky had started to hope for an afterparty, but just for the two of them.

Somehow, all these small and big changes had made it worse, turning worry into almost paralyzing dread.

The Archaeopteryx flew over the mountain range in the middle of an almost empty desert he reached following Hill’s coordinates. He was trying to pick any unusual readings from the ground. The place was mostly rock and sand on the surface, but below the ground were plenty of mines: copper, silver, vanadium and other metals, making any secret bases hidden in here practically invisible to the radars.

He had an advantage, however, with Kobik pointing them to the general location. From there, he oriented himself on a column of smoke coming from the ground. 

Coming closer, he saw one of the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s carriers, looking as it was taken down by some sort of AA turrets, destroyed to the point it was likely no longer capable of taking off. There wasn’t any visible fighting on the ground, and the turrets in question looked equally destroyed on a nearby mountain slope.

There were people moving around it, too. A lot of them were dressed in yellow A.I.M. uniforms, but they were tied up, surrounded by S.H.I.E.L.D. opperatives. Whatever happened here was over, and the only thing required from Bucky was a quick extraction.

“Barnes!” Hill greeted him, as he opened his cargo hold gates and unfolded the ramp to let them all in. She sounded glad and relieved saying his name, and it was probably the first time he’d heard this intonation from her. “Is that...?” She pointed in the general direction of their surroundings.

“Fury’s ship? Yes,” Bucky nodded. “And before you ask, I didn’t steal it.”

“I was trying—”

“Where is Steve?” he interrupted, his impatience making it impossible to concentrate on pleasantries. Even if it was somebody who could easily attempt to take Kobik away, whom he managed to keep in secret this entire time, and now asked to hide in her bunk room a few feet away.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” came Steve’s own voice from behind Hill, the man himself appearing in the field of Bucky’s vision only a moment later. 

Seeing him alive and on his feet, Bucky almost dropped to his knees, his entire body suddenly feeling weaker. Not trusting his voice at the moment, he silently watched Steve help an injured operative into the cargo hold, carefully moving him towards an empty space and laying him onto the floor.

“Do you have seriously injured people, or should I set course to Triskelion?” he turned to Hill instead.

“We have a base closer, near L.A.,” Hill replied.

“I can give you coordinates to it,” Steve volunteered immediately. All things considered. He sounded almost excited, his eyes landing on Bucky and a small smile appearing on his lips.

That alone told Bucky enough about the severity of the situation, or the lack of thereof. He glanced down at the injured guy, seeing two more operatives moving to provide him medical attention. The guy was still conscious. He was bleeding a little on the floor of Bucky’s ship, but whatever his injury was, it didn't seem life threatening. Bucky suspected this was the worst case.

“Will you be able to finish it here on your own?” Bucky asked, turning back to Hill.

“If you provide me with access codes to the ship’s brig,” Hill nodded.

“I’ll text it to you,” Bucky responded, already turning around and starting to walk in the direction of the bridge.

He heard rather than saw Steve following him, but he tried to pay no attention to the way how relieved he felt having him near. Only when they reached the cockpit and the door slid closed behind them, Bucky allowed a deep sign to escape him.

“Steve, what the hell? He said, leaning over the control panel of the ship. He wasn’t even sure what he referred to, simply felt like complaining about the entire situation.

“Sorry, Buck,” he heard Steve signing behind him. “I know you’re not a fan of S.H.I.E.L.D., so I didn’t call you to join. I wouldn’t have called you now either, but our communications were down, and we didn’t want to use unsecure channels, and I knew your phone is scrambled. I started to dial you, but a dude in a power armor came out of nowhere, so I had to pass my phone to—”

“Please stop,” Bucky grunted, shaking his head. Steve was explaining to him the situation about taking down an enemy base, yet he sounded like he was retelling latest gossip, more cheerful than he had any reason to be. Yes, Bucky had discovered new things about his friend in the past month, things that made him look at Steve under a different light, but he knew him better than that, still. He’d seen him in distress before, seen him becoming grumpy and snapping at everybody. He’d seen him angry, depressed. And yes, he was lucky enough to see Steve happy, he knew that whatever cheerful demeanor he was trying to present right now, it wasn’t him. “I thought I was going to dig you out of rubbles. And it’s stupid, because it’s you, you’re practically indestructible.”

“That’s not true.”

“No, but you get what I’m saying. I swear, I won’t stop trusting your skill on missions, don’t worry about it, so could you please stop treating me like you need to gloss over things to spare my feelings?”

There was silence, that lasted only several seconds, but it felt longer to Bucky.  “You’re right,” Steve signed finally and shuffled close to the control panel Bucky was still leaning onto. “We were lucky. The tech this cell of A.I.M. stole, was like Kree power cells. They tried to build something that could’ve probably outshone Tony’s Iron Man suit, but one malfunctioned and exploded during the combat, taking down most of the base as soon as the fight started. We would've had way many serious casualties if they came at us full strength.”

Bucky nodded and straightened up, his back almost touching Steve’s chest. He thought about it for a second, then moved all the way into the embrace, feeling Steve’s arms coming to wrap around him. 

“I am feeling cheerful though, it wasn’t all a pretense,” Steve reassured him, his breath feeling warm and nice against Bucky’s ear. “It’s been very difficult two years, and the last four months... well, I felt incredibly low, especially at the start. But getting a chance with this — with us — now... well, I’m looking forward to spending Christmas together. With both of you,” he added in a chuckle, looking around the cockpit.

Bucky’s breath hitched a little and he felt blood rushing to his cheeks from being caught. The distress call came unexpected, and he had no time cleaning his ships of evidence. It wasn’t exactly messy, but there were toys strategically assembled around the places Kobik played right before they went for lunch. 

“Unless, you thought better about it, and don’t want to come over,” Steve added more seriously, likely deciding Bucky stayed quiet for way too long. “I mean, you’re not obligated to. Neither you have to respond to my advances for that matter.”

He almost began to move away, his arms retreating from Bucky’s torso, but Bucky had none of it. Spinning around, he pulled Steve closer and pressed his lips into his. He wasn’t even remotely cautious, kissing him deep and with as much passion as he could muster, delighted by the fact how quickly and how eager Steve responded.

There was a hiss of a door coming from behind them, Hill’s voice following suit. “Are you ever going to get me these brig access— codes...” she began speaking, but her voice hitched at the end of the sentence.

There was a big part of Bucky that felt incredibly awkward to be caught like that. Another part of him, one that retained the memories of his young adulthood spent in military camps in the forties, was terrified. There was a third one, however, one that wanted to smirk and stick his tongue out at Hill.

he didn’t act on any of these impulses. Instead, he slowly pulled himself away from Steve and straightened up, as if there was absolutely nothing extraordinary happening.

“Okaay, I’m not entirely certain what to make of it, but okay,” Hill continued blankly. She almost turned around to leave, when her eyes fell on the toys next to the doorway. Slowly, she reached down for a small teddy bear and picked it up, turning it around in her hands, examining. Her mouth opened once, twice, but she remained silent. Finally, she placed the bear back down and shrugged. “You know what, I’m taking the rest of the day off. Not my problem. At least not till Monday. Maybe never.” With that she was gone.

“It will be alright,” Steve told him when they were alone again. They stood next to each other, Steve’s hands still resting on Bucky’s hips, as if it was the most natural state of being, the most logical location.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “It will be. I think I can see it now. So let’s finish this up, and then...”

“Then, Bucky, let’s go home.”

The End.