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"Hey Steve!" Bucky shouted as he ran to catch up with the smaller man. The sky was blue, spotted with grey clouds lifting after another spring rainstorm. Bucky matched his gait to Steve's and threw an arm over his shoulder.
"I can keep up with you, you know." He said. Bucky shrugged, tugging at the scarf around his neck.
"Yeah I know. Just thought we'd take it slow today." Steve huffed out a breath. They continued walking, Bucky's boots clunking against the wet concrete and Steve's oxfords clicking at an identical pace. Shivering, Steve pulled the collar of his pea coat around his ears. Bucky extracted his arm and replaced it with his scarf, tying the knot under Steve's chin. Steve looked up at him, "What? It's gettin' too warm for me." he said, winking as he ran a hand through his bed head, short hair sticking up in every which way.
"Wouldn't want you to melt on me." He muttered, not-so-discreetly burrowing into the scarf. Bucky knocked his shoulder against Steve's, chuckling.
"You already do that with your eyes." Steve blushed and laughed,
"Dumbass. You up for some coffee? Or are you gonna melt some more?" Head falling back, Bucky laughed, his lip and septum piercings gleamed in the cold sun.
"I think I'll be alright with a coffee."
The two steered into a nearby coffee shop, shoved away in a corner of Brooklyn filled with small mom-and-pop stores, and a park nearby. They stood in line, Bucky filled both of their orders ("an Americano" to which Steve snorted, "and a decaf black, please."), and Steve insisted that he pay even though Bucky explicitly said he could afford it, but eventually gave in knowing how stubborn Steve could be ("Whatever, ya punk." Bucky had said, fondly, "I'm not the punk, jerk. Even at seventeen you're still a thickheaded dork." Steve had retorted. Bucky had laughed.) They crossed the street and walked down a couple blocks to the park. The sun was slowly, shyly, emerging from behind the clouds, warming up the soil below. They walked in silence for a bit, Steve cradling his black coffee between his gloved hands and Bucky nursing his own drink, left arm returning to occupying Steve's shoulders. Tugging him over to a bench next to some flowers that had not opened quite yet, Steve pulled them to sit, moving his coffee to his left hand and Bucky embraced the opening. Tangling their fingers together, Bucky couldn't contain a soft smile, Steve looked over at him and snorted,
"You're a goddamn sap." He said, affectionately, stroking a thumb over Bucky's knuckles. Bucky chuckled and brought Steve's hand to his lips, pressing a quick kiss on the back of it without breaking eye contact.
"Yeah, I know."
"Hey! Steve!" Steve laughed from up ahead and came to a slow halt, hopping in place as Bucky ran up beside him, crouching over his knees and breathing heavily. "You asshole, when you said quick run you really meant beat my ass to the ground didn't you? Shit, its humid today." Bucky resisted the urge to strip off his grey tank top as he felt the glaring stare of the sun on his shoulders. Steve put his hands on his hips, muscles flexing under his running shirt, or as Bucky liked to call it his wayyyyy too tight holy shit is that even legal t shirt, and smiled at Bucky, looking up at him through his lashes which he still somehow managed to do even though he was sure taller than Bucky by now. And it got Bucky every time. Steve shrugged.
"I said a quick run and you weren't being very quick." Bucky straightened his spine and marched right up to Steve, poking him in one squishy pectoral, meeting his blue eyes, a challenge.
"Maybe I wanted to take it slow, huh, Steve? Did you think about that?" The blond rolled his eyes, patted him on a shoulder, and turned,
"You'll be fine. C'mon, there's a coffee shop right up here, remember? Maybe we can get you some water and a new lung." he smirked. Bucky glared at him, sticking a hair band between his teeth and finger-combing back his mohawk, deliberately taking his time.
"You're a fuckin' punk." He said around the elastic before tying back his hair and letting the last loop snap into place. Steve raised his eyebrows and made a show of looking Bucky over. His eyes skimmed over the eyebrow piercing, his nose, mouth, and ears which all had some sort of metal jewellery through them, down to his biceps where various tattoos (some of them Steve-related) had collected. And Bucky didn't miss how Steve's gaze lingered over his hip bones, which were sporting some swallows (Steve had a love/hate relationship with those particular tattoos), so he made sure to stretch his arms as he tightened the ponytail, just for show. Steve's gaze snapped back to Bucky's eyes.
"I don't think I'm the punk, Buck." Bucky pushed him lightly,
"Yeah, you're right. You're a goddamn hipster, that's what you are. You're a closet punk hipster. You're a pipster."
"Or a hunk." Steve retorted as they started jogging again and Bucky laughed.
"Well I won't argue that."
As Steve and Bucky waited in line, Bucky started to study Steve, as he had fallen into the habit of doing since Steve came back from a mysterious health-adamant camp all bulked up a couple years ago. The wonders of modern medicine, man. Everything about his (boyfriend? Friend? Long term intimate partner with whom they never quite clarified any state of their relationship?) seemed alien, his shoulders were bigger, his face longer, hands and arms and ribs all wider than they had been when Steve was eighteen. Not that Bucky particularly minded (especially the hands) but if he didn't know any better and saw Steve from behind, he would have hardly recognized him. Steve's voice broke his thoughts as he placed the coffee order, stature confidant and yet humble and, yeah, that Bucky would recognize in an instant. The way he held himself and blushed when the barista talked to him about how big he's gotten, that was all Steve.
Bucky found a coffee cup shoved into his hand, and large hands on his shoulders herding him out the door. "Walk in the park?" He asked, running his tongue over one of his lip rings.
Steve shrugged, "Sure, why not."
It was pretty much summer. It was warm spring, but not officially summer, but Bucky would tell anyone who listened "it's goddamn summer", so summer it was. And nothing said summer like sitting among flowers and a hand full of grass being shoved down the back of Steve's sweaty t shirt.
"Hey!" He shouted as he squirmed to brush the grass out as Bucky threw more at him. "Y'know if you keep doing that I might just have to take my shirt off." Bucky grinned, wide and with intent. Steve started scooting away, putting his hands up. "Oh no, don't you dare, Bucky, I really don't want to - you know the trouble we have to go through when that...Bucky!" he squirmed as Bucky tackled him, coffees forgotten, and began piling grass all over Steve, intentionally mussing it into his blonde hair. Steve's method of attack was nearly as cruel, fingers targeting Bucky's sides and hips in tickles until he was gasping.
"You cheated! The great man with a plan cheated! How will I ever be able to look at Captain America the same again?" Playfully, Steve pushed Bucky over before relaxing back on the grass.
"Just because I played him one time..."
"Uh, three. You played him three times." Steve shook his head. But Bucky huffed, stubbornly, "Three. The movie, Broadway, and the time you dressed up for that children's hospital."
"That doesn't count."
"Uh, excuse me but I think it does. Three." Bucky relaxed back on the grass next to Steve, shoulders brushing.
"Whatever you say, Buck." Humming to himself, Bucky silently gloated in his victory winning the argument. As he settled, his eyes started drooping. The sun was warm, the grass was soft, and he was pretty tired since someone had dragged him out of bed at ass-crack dawn to go on a "quick" run. He started to doze off.
Bucky woke up batting his nose with a start, dislodging the tickling menace that was a...flower? and accidentally punching himself in the process. He rubbed at his nose and looked down at the yellow and purple flowers littering his chest and stomach. A small pink rose fell out of his hair. Touching the ponytail, he found more flowers stuffed into the elastic band, behind his ears, and through his gauges. Steve was sitting next to him, cross-legged with a hand over his mouth trying to stifle his laughter. "You think this is funny?" Bucky motioned violently to his crown of flowers. Steve let out another burst of laughter.
"Yeah, I think it's pretty funny." He shrugged his big shoulders, "What are you gonna do?" Bucky looked at the laughter on Steve's face, defeated by the glowing warmth it sparked in his chest. Picking up a fallen pale yellow gerbera daisy, he stuffed it behind Steve's ear with more tenderness than he'd ever admit having.
"Flowers aren't very punk rock." Bucky muttered, kissing the corner of Steve's mouth. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind Bucky's ear, Steve readjusted the flower in it.
"You're a sap." He said, blue eyes sparkling. Bucky smiled.
"Yeah, I know."