Archive of Our Own

It isn't often that Steve Rogers gets invited to parties.

He isn't popular, not in the slightest, even though everybody knows who he is. Everyone only knows who he is because he's some idiot who always gets into fights he can't finish. Not his words- he hears a lot of opinions about himself, people at his school apparently don't know how to whisper. It's been like this for as long as he can remember, people have been saying that kind of thing since before middle school. So when Tony Stark tells him to come to his party, Sam begs him to attend.

"Come on, Steve! You never go to parties," Sam pleads.

"I don't know, Sam. I'll see."

"No you won't," Sharon says, putting her tray down and sitting down with them. "You say that now, but you'll find some excuse later on."

"I said I'll see," Steve snaps, and Sharon rolls her eyes at him. "Why did he even invite me anyway? We talk to each other sometimes, but it's not exactly like we're friends," He says, eyeing Stark suspiciously, who's sitting at the other end of the cafeteria, gesturing wildly to Bruce Banner about something. Probably science.

"Who knows with Stark? He could have all kinds of ulterior motives," Sam says.

"How can somebody have ulterior motives for inviting someone to a party?" Sharon asks.

"This is Tony Stark we're talking about here," Sam says, as if it explains everything. Well, it actually does.

"Good point," Sharon admits. Sam makes eye contact with her at this, and they both beam at each other for a few seconds before blushing and averting their eyes, looking back down to their lunches. Steve rolls his eyes. He can't wait for the day that they finally get together, the sexual tension is unbearable. Is this what Harry felt like when Ron and Hermione made eyes at each other? Poor guy.

He isn't exactly sure when he first became friends with Sharon. She's lived opposite him their whole lives, so as young children, naturally, they'd gravitated toward each other. She'd stuck by him all throughout elementary school, and Sam had become friends with them both on the first day of middle school when they'd all had English together. Sam and Sharon have both been pining for each other since they were freshmen, so Steve has been dealing with it for over three years. It's very frustrating.

While Sharon and Sam try to pretend that they aren't in love, Steve is suddenly distracted by a certain someone walking into the cafeteria. Bucky Barnes is something of a... guilty pleasure for Steve. Steve has always been aware of him, everybody is, but he's started paying attention in the last couple of years, and has fallen hopelessly and pathetically in love. It's not exactly like he has high hopes, Steve knows he doesn't stand a chance. Bucky wears leather jackets and smokes, and hangs around with Natasha and Clint. Steve is just... Steve. That doesn't mean that he doesn't stare, though.

Clint saunters across the cafeteria, Bucky in tow, who seems to be dragging his feet in reluctance, in the direction of the table that Natasha Romanoff currently sits at, picking at her food and texting. When Steve sees that it looks like they're going to pass his table, he ducks his head and pushes back the furious blush that threatens to engulf his cheeks.

"Hey, Rogers," he hears Barton's voice say, and lifts his head up in confusion. Clint and Bucky are standing there, and Bucky is shuffling awkwardly, hands jammed in his pockets, looking at the floor and scuffing his shoes.

"Barton," he acknowledges, and sees Sam looking just as baffled as he is. Sharon just looks amused, her eyes locked on Bucky.

"You going to Stark's party this weekend?" Clint asks.

"Uh-" he starts, keeping his eyes trained on Barton, resolutely not looking at Bucky.

"Yeah. Yes. He is," Sam answers for him, with a pointed look.

"Cool. See you there," Clint says, before striding off to Natasha.

Bucky is left there in his wake, looking lost.

"Um, bye," he mumbles, so quietly that Steve almost doesn't hear it, swallowing nervously, his eyes darting up to Steve's face. He draws in a sharp breath when he sees Steve looking up at him curiously, and his cheeks flush a dark pink. His head jerks down again, looking at the floor as he turns and walks away.

When Barnes reaches his table, Natasha and Clint are laughing at him, glancing at Steve. Were they making fun of him? Steve can't actually tell. He's never actually talked to Clint or Natasha properly since elementary school, and the only interaction that he's ever had with Bucky was back in sophomore year, when he'd helped Steve off the ground after Rumlow had pushed him. He hadn't said anything, just flushed and walked off, but he'd still helped. Predictably, this was the thing that had originally made Steve take notice of Bucky. Over the past two years, Steve has... observed him. The way he had just acted around Steve is something new, however.

"What was that all about? I barely know Clint. Why would he care if I'm going to the party?" He wonders.

"Honestly, man, I have no idea. But you will go, right?" Sam implores.

"Fine," Steve says, sighing.

Sam grins at him, wide and excited, and Steve is almost sick when Sharon looks at him lovingly. Steve throws one last glance behind him to where Barnes is sitting, and is surprised to see Bucky already gazing at him. When their eyes meet, Bucky violently blushes and hastily looks away, running a hand through his long, untamed hair. Steve is jolted out of his confusion by Sharon's voice.

"So, what are you gonna wear?"

Steve doesn't know what to wear.

It's Friday night, and he's standing in the middle of his bedroom, confused. What do people even wear to parties? The last one he went to that wasn't Sam or Sharon's was back in middle school. In the end, he decides on his best jeans and a t-shirt that doesn't make him look like a complete nerd.

"Steve you look good!" Sam says when he picks him up.

"Thanks for sounding so surprised," he replies drily.

"You know what I mean," Sam defends.

"Do I?"

Sam rolls his eyes and looks back to the road.

When they get there, there's one thing that stands out. Tony Stark's house is big. Not just big, it's massive. More of a mansion than a house, really. Sam whistles as he parks the car behind an actual Mercedes.

"Wow. This is..." Sam falters.

"I know," Steve says in awe.

As they walk closer to the house, they see that the party has bled outside, the door is open, and people are messing around on the porch and in the fountain. The music is booming and loud, reverberating through Steve as they reach the door. Stark's house is posh, and it doesn't make sense for Tony to have a trashy high school party here. Then again, it is Tony Stark. They go inside, dodging and twisting through the crowd, before Sam stops dead in his tracks. Steve looks back at him, confused, until he follows his line of sight. Sharon is laughing with Pepper and Maria, standing against the wall. She's wearing a short skirt and a tight top, with her hair down and curly instead of up in the usual ponytail she has. Steve thinks she looks gorgeous, and evidently, Sam does too.

"Go get her Sam," he encourages, thumping him on the back.

"Yeah?" Sam asks, swallowing nervously.

"Yeah."

He gives Steve a small smile, and strides over to Sharon. Steve snorts and turns to go and get a drink. After all this time, they might finally get together. He decides on getting punch, which he is entirely certain has alcohol in, and runs into Tony on his way outside.

"Rogers! You came!" Tony exclaims, obviously drunk already. 

"Yep."

"You having fun?"

"Well, I just got here, so..."

"Ah. Well, I'm sure you will have fun," he promises, winking.

Steve frowns as Stark grins and walks away toward Bruce, who's enthusiastically kissing Betty Ross in the corner. Does Tony think he's gonna get laid? Has he met Steve? He sighs and walks out of the patio doors.

The back of the mansion is more or less the same as the front- posh and fancy. He sees Thor Odinson, the school's star athlete, in the pool, splashing his girlfriend Jane. Through the heaving crowd, he spots a few other people that he recognises- Loki, Thor's adopted brother, Rhodey, who seems to be shouting at Peter Quill for some reason, and he even thinks he catches a glimpse of Clint and Natasha, making out in a tree. Crowds and parties have never really been Steve's forte, so he keeps walking until he's reached the end of the garden, which is so far from the house that the lights don't shine there, meaning that he's alone, and he stands in front of the pond, looking at the moon. After a good five minutes just standing there, he turns with the intention of heading back to the house, but slams into someone, spilling his drink all down their top. When he looks up to their face, he sees that it's Bucky Barnes. Shit.

"Oh god I- I'm so sorry, I, I didn't mean to, I swear," Steve babbles, grabbing at the t-shirt. Bucky doesn't say anything at first, looking at Steve with a stunned expression on his face, his mouth parted and eyes wide.

"Uh... What?" He breathes out.

"...Your shirt?" Steve says, nodding at the material that's still clutched between his thumb and forefinger. He lets it go, blushing a bit when he realises he's still holding it, as Barnes glances down and his eyes shoot up to Steve's face again.

"Um, oh, it's- I... It doesn't matter. I, I uh... I don't mind," he stutters.

"You're not gonna beat me up?"

"No!" Bucky says, sounding scandalised. "I- I wouldn't. Do that."

"Oh... I guess the rumours are wrong then," he says, smiling a little, confused at Bucky's defensiveness.

When Steve smiles, Barnes does the same thing as at school, and sucks in a sudden breath while flushing, rubbing his hands on his jeans in an odd gesture. He swallows convulsively before replying.

"Yeah," is all he says, weak and hoarse.

"Why are you, uh... Why are you all the way down here? Not enjoying the party?" Bucky asks, after the awkward pause in the conversation has lasted too long.

"Parties aren't really my thing. Sam made me come," Steve explains. "You can't exactly talk, anyway. You're down here too."

"True," Bucky admits, blushing again.

"So, Barnes, why aren't you drinking? This is a party-"

"Bucky! Call me Bucky. Please," he interrupts.

"Okay... Bucky. How come you aren't drinking?"

Bucky shakily exhales when Steve says his name. "I, uh, I didn't really feel like it. Not tonight. Have you had a lot?"

"No, this is my first drink, and I'd only had a few sips before..." He gestures at Bucky's top. "Sorry."

"No, it doesn't matter, I don't... I don't care," Bucky says. "Do you, uh, do you wanna get another drink?"

"Sure," he agrees.

The walk back up to the house is kind of awkward, seeing as Steve doesn't know what to say, and neither does Bucky. The tense atmosphere is broken, however, when they get up to the house to see Loki slip and fall in the pool, fully clothed, causing them both to laugh.

"What are you gonna drink?" Bucky asks, when they get inside.

"Punch," Steve says, as he goes to grab the ladle. "You gonna have anything?"

"Um, no. I don't think so."

Steve smiles at him again as he swigs his drink, and feels a swoop, low in his stomach, when he notices Bucky watching him swallow. He allows a drop of punch to trickle out of the cup as he tips it back, and his stomach flips again, when Bucky's eyes follow it’s path onto his throat and down his neck.

"Is it, um, good?" Bucky asks, after clearing his throat, but his voice is rough and strained.

"Yeah," Steve murmurs, suddenly aware of the tension between them.

"Are you... do you…" Bucky starts, and trails off, looking apprehensive.

"What?" Steve whispers, and moves closer.

Bucky breathes out, licking his lips, and stares at Steve's mouth which is still wet and shiny from the punch. They stay silent and frozen, staring at each other for a minute, while Steve considers all the ways that this could go. If he asks, and Bucky rejects him, it won't be surprising. If he asks, and Bucky beats him up, it won't be totally unexpected either- and Steve knows how to take a beating. However, if he asks, and Bucky says yes, then he actually might have a chance to get lucky tonight. And not just with anyone, either. With Bucky Barnes. The guy he's been in love with since he was a sophomore.

"Do you, um," Steve says, gathering up all his courage. "Do you wanna go somewhere more private?"

He sees Bucky gulp, and is pretty sure he hears a whimper.

"Yeah. Yes, please. I- I want that," he says eagerly.

Steve feels arousal knife through him. Bucky wants this. With him. So he puts his drink down and turns, walking towards the stairs and looks expectantly at Bucky. He stumbles after him and follows him up the stairs. Steve goes for the first door he comes across, which is conveniently a bedroom, and pulls Bucky by his damp shirt with him. He shuts the door behind them, and presses Bucky up against it. He leans up, hears Bucky make a broken and desperate sound just as their lips touch, and knots his hands in the fabric of his jacket.

"Steve," Bucky whispers. He realises it's the first time he's heard Bucky say his name. He decides he likes it.

"Yeah?" He says, pulling back.

"I… You really want this?"

Steve nods, and Bucky gasps, pulling Steve back to him, pushing his tongue inside his mouth. It's a little sloppy and inexperienced, which is surprising, but it's eager, and the best kiss that Steve has ever had. Not that he has much to compare it to, but Bucky isn’t actually the first person Steve has kissed- there was Phil, his first kiss when he was in elementary, Sharon, back in middle school, when she'd taught him how to kiss properly, and Darcy, at some party when they were juniors, in a game of spin the bottle.

There was also Peggy, of course, Sharon's cousin, who he’d loved so fiercely back in freshman year when she'd visited from England, and even treated him to a few dates. But Peggy was different. She was a short love affair, lasting a few months, and while Steve had loved her, god he'd loved her, and a part of him probably always would, she wasn’t this. She wasn’t years of pining and staring. She wasn’t Bucky.

He spins Bucky around after a few minutes making out against the door, and pushes him down to sit on the edge of the bed. When he straddles him, Bucky moans, and clutches Steve's waist like he's dying.

"I've um…" Steve bites his lip. "I've never done this before. Not properly. I've only ever kissed people."

Bucky's face darkens and his hands tighten. "I haven't done this either," he admits.

No. That can't be right. Bucky is the most sought after guy at school, after Thor and perhaps Tony. That also means that he's willing for his first time to be with Steve.

"But…" He argues. "You're… Everyone says..."

"You gotta stop listening to those rumours, Steve," Bucky says. "Not many of them are true."

"But the threesome you had with Natasha and Clint on Fury’s desk last year was legendary!" He exclaims.

"It was also fictitious," Bucky says, snorting.

"How absolutely dare you. You need to organise that."

Bucky grins at him, and brings a hand up to brush a strand of Steve’s hair out of his face. It's strangely gentle, and Steve feels his face heat up. Bucky bends forward, fastening his mouth to Steve's again, twisting a hand in his hair and pulling him closer. He can feel Bucky moaning into his mouth, and his blood rushes south, his cock filling between his legs. He inches forward a little, and when he tugs at Bucky's hair, Bucky releases a louder groan and jerks his hips against Steve’s.

And oh, Bucky is hard.

Harder than Steve.

The arousal that sweeps through him at this is excruciating, and he drags his dick against Bucky's through their jeans again, while focusing on keeping his breathing under control, not wanting to cause an asthma attack. The response he gets is more than satisfactory, Bucky keens, grasping Steve harder. For a while, the only sound to be heard is the blaring music vibrating throughout the house, the wet sounds of kissing, and the occasional moan. Slowly, Steve presses Bucky down further against the bed, and eventually, Bucky flips them over, pushing Steve's head onto the pillow. His hand hovers awkwardly at the hem of Steve's t-shirt, and he pulls away from the kiss, looking at Steve hopefully.

"Is this okay?" Bucky asks, his his hair dangling into Steve's face.

"Yeah," he replies on a breath.

Bucky smiles down at him sweetly, and kisses him again. His hand trails up beneath Steve's shirt, up his stomach and tracing his ribs. Steve knows how skinny he is, knows he's not strong and muscular like Bucky is, but Bucky doesn't seem to mind. At all. In fact, he seems kind of into it. Bucky is panting and groaning into his mouth, rubbing his dick down on Steve's thigh, one of his legs shoved in between Steve's. His hands are clenching on Steve’s bare waist, gripping him like he needs him to breathe. Bucky's mouth is warm and demanding, and he's enthusiastically sucking on Steve's tongue. It's the hottest thing that Steve has ever experienced.

"Oh, Steve, yeah," Bucky whines, as Steve thrusts his hips up.

"Mmm, Buck. S’good," he slurs, his voice distorted by pleasure.

He slips his hands up Bucky's top, up to almost his shoulders, and rakes his nails down, slowing to a stop at his lower back. Bucky seizes up at this, scrabbling at Steve’s waist and crying out.

"Oh, no, god," Bucky gasps out. "Stevie," he hisses, grinding down against Steve's thigh, groaning, before stilling and ducking his head into the curve of his neck.

Steve doesn't understand what's happened until he registers a patch of something warm and wet, soaking through his jeans on his thigh. Oh. He feels both a little shocked and smug at the fact that he's just made Bucky Barnes come in his pants.

"Fuck- I… Shit," Bucky babbles, pulling his head up, his cheeks bright red. He looks mortified. "I'm so sorry, I- I didn't mean to, I just…"

"It's okay. It, um. It happens sometimes, you know," Steve comforts.

Bucky still looks embarrassed. "I'll make it up to you?" He offers, glancing at Steve’s crotch, where his jeans are still tented.

"I, uh, I wouldn't object."

Bucky smirks deviously at him, although it's a little subdued, and shuffles down so that his face is in line with Steve’s dick. He fumbles with Steve's zipper, pulls open his jeans, pushes his hand against Steve's cock through his underwear. When Steve arches up and whimpers, Bucky grins and yanks down his boxers, so that Steve feels the open air brush against his dick. Steve knows he isn't big, not at all, but he knows that he isn't as small as people would expect, either. This doesn't explain why Bucky is staring at his cock like it’s God’s gift to man.

"You're so pretty, Stevie," he murmurs, and starts pressing hot kisses on his thigh.

Steve tangles his hands into Bucky's messy hair, and moans when Bucky abruptly fastens his mouth to Steve’s cock. He trails hot and messy kisses along it, licking his way up to the tip. He sucks lightly on the end, and slowly and agonisingly lowers his mouth down as far as he can go, and begins to suck harder. It's not perfect, it's a little messy, and Bucky scrapes Steve with his teeth a few times and then profusely apologises. But it's Bucky. And it has Steve coming harder than he’s ever done in his life, whimpering, shooting down Bucky's throat and clutching at his hair. Bucky swallows as much as he can, but ends up wiping his mouth on his t-shirt anyway.

"It was wet already," he remarks.

"Hey! I told you I was sorry!"

"I know, I was only kidding," Bucky jokes, flopping down beside Steve on the bed, and staring at him.

"I… I better go," Steve says eventually, standing up and zipping up his pants. Bucky won't want him here, not after that.

Bucky sits up, looking at Steve quizzically. "Why?" He questions.

"Look, Bucky, I won't mention anything about this again, okay? I know you don't want some nerd tarnishing your reputation. It's okay, I understand. Don't worry about it," he chokes out, turning to leave. He can't hear it. He can't hear Bucky reject him, he can't.

"Stev-" he hears shouted as he closes the door, but it's muffled halfway through. He jogs down the stairs, with the intention of rejoining the party, but is pulled back by Bucky, who has thrown open the door and run after him.

"Steve, I-"

"Don't bother. I get it, Bucky. You don't need to feel guilty, I know exactly what that was."

"What are you talking about?"

"I’m talking about you! You wear leather jackets and ripped jeans, you smoke, you put pink highlights in your hair. You don't want people hearing that you had sex with someone like me."

"The highlights was one time. I was experimenting. And I don't smoke," Bucky grumbles. "Steve, it wasn't like that. I lov-"

"Look, it doesn't matter. You don't have to… Lie. I know what it was," he explains, patting Bucky's arm before disappearing into the crowd to find someone that he knows. He hears Bucky shouting his name behind him, but bites back the tears that threaten his eyes, ignores him, and carries on walking. It hurts like hell, but it would’ve hurt a whole lot worse if he actually had to listen to Bucky make excuses and tell him he’s not interested.

He eventually sees Darcy, who’s wandered away from Thor and Jane, and is standing on her own. Steve goes over, says hi to her, and ends up spending the rest of the night talking to her, distracting himself from sulking over Bucky. When he decides to leave, he finds Sam, so drunk that he can barely stand.

Steve sighs, and realises that he’ll be the one driving home.

He wakes up the next day in early afternoon.

Sunlight is filtering in through the window, which Steve guesses is the thing that inevitably woke him up. He yawns, stretches, and sits up. Groping for his phone, he sees that he has a missed call from Sharon. He groans and presses the button to call her back.

"Hey Steve!" She greets, bubbly and awake. Steve thinks that it’s physically impossible for her to get a hangover, even with the amount she drank.

"Ugh."

"Why are you groaning? Do you have a hangover?" She asks.

"No, I didn't really drink. I just woke up, though. You know I'm not a morning person," he responds.

"Yeah, I do know. What happened to you last night? I never saw you."

"You were probably too busy with Sam…" He hints.

"Steve! That's..." She grumbles.

"The truth. I saw you guys last night, and believe me, I’m pretty glad you two are finally together, but please don't give me too many details…"

"Shut up," Sharon says. "Seriously, where were you?"

"I, uh… I kinda… Hooked up with someone."

"Oh! Wow, uh, who?"

"…Bucky Barnes," he mumbles.

"Bucky Barnes?"

"Yes," he hisses.

"Oh… I'm… I'm so happy for you!" She squeals.

"It was just sex, not much to be happy about."

"Wait, what? You aren't dating now?"

"No?"

"But… Wait, what happened? Did he tell you he didn't want that?"

"Well no, but he didn't have to. It was pretty obvious."

"Oh, Steve. I- I think you’ve got it wrong."

"What?"

"Just… Talk to him on Monday. Properly. I think you’d be surprised."

"Wh-"

Steve is about to ask what she's going on about when she hangs up the phone, leaving Steve mid sentence. He tuts, and puts his phone down, pulling his homework out of his bag and deciding to make a start on it.

On Monday, Steve avoids Bucky like the plague.

It would be so incredibly awkward if they saw each other, so when he sees him in the corridor, he keeps his head down and flees, and makes sure that his eyes don't stray to him in History. At the end of class, he allows himself one glance, and freezes when he sees Bucky’s eyes already locked on him. When they make eye contact, Bucky goes pink, grabs his books and darts out of the room, leaving Steve standing in at his desk, motionless. He sighs, picks up his books and heads to his locker. However, when he's put them in and closed it, he's shoved against his door- not hard, but unexpected, making him jump.

"Мудак!" Natasha shouts at him, shoving him again.

"What- ow!"

"Fuck you, Rogers," she hisses.

"What did I do?" He groans. Nobody pisses of Natasha Romanoff and lives. Nobody.

"James! James is what you did! You broke his heart."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You left him!"

"It's not like he wanted me to stay-"

"Rogers, you oblivious idiot!" She says, punctuating her words with another slam against the lockers. "He's loved you since middle school, of course he wanted you to stay!"

The air punches out of Steve and he feels the floor tilt beneath his feet. "What?" He faintly hears his voice say.

"You heard me."

"No- no he doesn't, he can’t-"

"I know my best friend better than you do, Rogers. I remember it. It was the first day, our first class, I hadn't seen him all summer, and all I wanted to do was talk to him, but then you walked in, and he was gone. I barely spoke to him at all, he spent the whole time staring at the back of your head," Natasha says. "He’s wanted you for years, and he finally got you, and you left him. You broke his heart."

"I… Didn't know."

"Believe me, I know. You only started paying attention in the last couple of years, right? Well he's wanted you forever. So fuck you for listening to stupid rumours and assuming that he was some asshole that didn't want you."

And with that, she releases her hold on him, and stalks off down the corridor. Steve stands there, leaning on the lockers for support, still in shock. He's grateful that it's lunch, because he stands there for at least ten minutes. When he gets the cafeteria and gets his lunch, he picks at it, not making a sound.

"You okay Steve?" Sam asks.

"Natasha Romanoff just told me that Bucky Barnes is in love with me," he answers bluntly.

"Oh my god," Sam mumbles, choking on his food. "What are you gonna do?"

"He’s gonna ask him out, Sam," Sharon interjects. "Aren't you?"

Steve shrugs.

"You can't do that to him, Steve," Sharon says.

With a jolt, Steve remembers their conversation at the weekend. "Sharon," he begins. "Do you know something that I don't?"

"I've always known," she admits. "He was pretty obvious."

"You've always known? Since when?"

"Since sixth grade when he tripped over in the cafeteria because he was too busy staring at you to look where he was going."

"Oh my god," Steve whines, putting his head into his hands. "I feel terrible. I had no idea."

"If it makes you feel any better, neither did I," Sam comforts, placing a hand on his back. 

"You're not the one he's in love with!" He exclaims, pushing him away. "Oh god, I was so mean. I’m such a dick."

"Oh, Steve," Sharon sighs.

Steve groans in reply.

He doesn't see Bucky for the rest of the day, even though he looks. When the final bell goes, he gives up, hoisting his bag up higher on his back. When he walks toward the doors though, he notices him, standing by the wall talking to Clint. Clint sees him as soon as he starts to stride over there, but doesn't say anything.

"Anyway, see you tomorrow!" He hears Clint say, and sidle off. 

"Where are you going?" Bucky asks, but Clint is already gone. He sighs, turning around, and jumping when he sees Steve.

"Steve. Hi," he mutters.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Sure."

So Steve drags him into the nearest room, shutting the door. It happens to be the music room, seeing as there's band equipment scattered everywhere.

"Are we… Is this…"

"No. This is just talking," Steve says.

"Oh."

"Natasha said that you've loved me since middle school," he blurts out.

He’s watching Bucky intently, so he sees his entire body tense and his breath draw in when the words leave his mouth. Bucky clenches his jaw and tugs awkwardly at the hem of his t-shirt.

"She was wrong," he replies.

"Oh," Steve says, and can't stop his heart from sinking and feeling an immense rush of disappointment. "Okay."

"It’s been longer than that," Bucky admits, gnawing at his lip. "I've been in love with you since the third grade."

"Third grade?" Steve squeaks, and has to steady himself on the wall. Steve had been eight, smaller and skinnier than he is now, with knobbly knees and pointy elbows, a permanent scowl on his face and constant bruises.

"Yeah." Bucky grimaces, "I- I knew you didn't feel the same. For the longest time. Natasha and Clint have been moaning at me since summer that I needed to actually talk to you, seeing as it's senior year now. Then I overheard Stark say something about a party, so I asked him to invite you."

"Third grade was a long time ago, Bucky. A really, really long time."

"Nine years and five months. I know." He laughs self-deprecatingly.

"I didn't know," Steve whispers.

"You didn't want to. You… Heard rumours about me, and you listened. You think that I'm just some asshole, that I’m a bully, that I’m a slut. And for the record, I don't smoke, I wouldn't, I know you have asthma-"

"Bucky, I- I'm sorry."

"It’s okay. Everyone believes them."

"Not just that. The other night. I was cruel."

"You didn't mean to be," he says, sighing, running a hand through his hair. 

"But I still was," Steve says miserably. "I’ll make it up to you somehow."

"Not like that," Bucky objects when Steve takes a step forward. "Don't feel obligated just because you feel bad. Please find some other way."

"I will, I promise. But I-"

And then Steve is diving across the room, throwing himself at Bucky, dragging his lips down to meet Steve’s. Bucky responds in earnest, almost automatically, cradling Steve in his arms and kissing back. He seems to realise what he’s doing all of a sudden, and wrenches his head back.

"No, Steve, no. Don't kiss me just because-"

"Shut up, jerk. I want to do this. I’ve wanted to for a while. Maybe not as long as you have, but I still want it," he confesses. "I'll find some other way to apologise, I swear, but I'm not doing this out of obligation."

Bucky makes a broken noise and drags Steve’s lips back to his. "Wanted this for so long," he gasps into his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, leaning his forehead against Bucky’s.

"I forgive you, punk," Bucky says, and kisses him again.

The next day at school, when they walk in, hand-in-hand, Steve is pretty sure he hears a few people shout, "Finally!"

Bucky leans in and gives him a chaste kiss before he heads off to Art, and Steve realises what he's been missing all these years.

Maybe parties aren't so bad after all.