Archive of Our Own

October 2015 - Steve

To say Steve didn't see it coming would be an understatement. Maybe, just maybe, if he had, he could have prepared somehow for the forthcoming heartbreak. It was what he believed would be a typical Friday night over three months ago, and though he's used to the misery that comes with it, somehow he's still shocked that it happened at all.

Steve was never naive enough to feel certain that they would be together for the rest of their lives. But he had been naive enough to hope. And now he's the idiot who got dumped out of nowhere and doesn't feel any better now than he did when it happened. Sam always tells him that his emotions are valid and it's understandable that he hasn't yet begun to move on. Steve sometimes believes him.

It might be okay if Bucky had given him an explanation. Steve doesn't understand why Bucky ended things with him, can't pinpoint where they went wrong. When Bucky told him, he said something about them being better as friends, but Steve barely heard it over his brain repeating over and over, this can't be happening.

Steve asked why Bucky was doing it, knew that he was not above begging to know and understand it in that moment, but Bucky wouldn't say. He just said he didn't want to be together anymore. And that was it.

He's gone over the possibilities in his head at least a million times, but he can't make sense of any of it. All he has is speculation, but none of his ideas fit.

They hadn't been fighting recently; in fact, they rarely fought at all. They bickered constantly, but that's how they had always been. Steve and Bucky knew how to get under each other's skin when they wanted to, but they were smart enough to avoid it most of the time. Things were good between them. Well. At least he thought things were good between them.

Maybe Bucky just fell out of love with him. But that doesn't make much sense to Steve either. He would've known if Bucky was unhappy, right? He wishes he could remember the last time Bucky said "I love you" but he just can't. He's tried to recall it, but the memory isn't there; he hadn't exactly considered there would be a last time Bucky said it that he would have to remember. Months ago now, but he knows it was in the weeks before they broke up. They didn't have to say it a lot; they just knew. Steve knew. So he finds it more than a little hard to believe that Bucky broke up with him because he didn't love Steve anymore.

Regardless of the unknown reason, Bucky didn't want to make things work, no matter how hard Steve tried to convince him. Steve did his best to understand, but Bucky acted so unlike himself, closed off from Steve completely. So Steve had to let him go.

Steve respects Bucky's wishes, of course. But that doesn't make it easier on him. That doesn't answer the questions on his tongue every time he sees Bucky. And it certainly doesn't stop him from hoping Bucky will come back.

Maybe he needs space, he'll come back when he's ready, he'll come to his senses in a few days, Steve had thought in the days following the breakup. Days stretched into weeks, which turned into months, and Steve is still waiting now.

Bucky isn't changing his mind and Steve isn't getting over him. It's not for lack of trying by any means, but Steve has loved him for so long, that he's not sure how to teach himself not to anymore.

***

June 2015 - Bucky

"I'm sorry, Stevie," Bucky said. "You know the last thing I want is to hurt you, but this is for the best." There were plenty of times when Bucky had seen Steve when he was close to tears, when he was trying to hold back, to keep himself together. He had never been the cause of it until now.

Steve stared at him, brow furrowed, lips still parted in surprise. He looked so hurt and confused and Bucky wanted to take the words back, but he was doing this. He made his decision and that was it. "I don't understand, Buck. What—did I do something?”

Bucky shook his head, giving him a sad smile. "No, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why?"

"I just can't. We can't."

"Tell me what I can do, tell me how I can fix this," Steve said desperately, stepping closer to Bucky. Bucky moved backwards, not missing the flash of hurt that crossed Steve's face.

"You can't." Bucky's voice was dejected, resigned to this terrible thing he had to do to both of them; he hoped Steve didn't hear how much this was hurting him.

Bucky recognized the same determined look on Steve's face he'd seen a thousand times. "Bucky, you can't just—I'm in this relationship too. Whatever it is, we can work it out. Please—“

"We can't." He knew now what he had to say to get Steve to give up. Bucky took a deep breath. "I don't—I don't want to." The lie left a bad taste in his mouth; he felt his stomach twist at the expression on Steve's face.

"Oh." A beat, then softer, "Oh." Steve would accept it now, only because he believed it was what Bucky really wanted.

Bucky had known he would have to lie when he started this conversation – or at least evade Steve's questions to the best of his ability – but part of him had hoped Steve wouldn't believe him. He told himself over and over that he was doing the right thing, but it didn’t feel right at all. "I'm sorry," he repeated. And it was useless, because he was watching Steve's heart break in this instant, and no amount of apologies could change that.

He was doing what he had to do, doing what was best for Steve, even if it didn't seem that way. He was doing what he had to do, but goddammit, he didn't want to do it.

Bucky watched Steve for a moment, briefly thinking he must be crazy. Could he really give Steve up? Could he really let go of the man he had been in love with for years? Or could he be selfish and decide to forget about what was best, and do what he wanted instead? Then Steve spoke very quietly. "Can you—I think you should go. Please."

No, he had to do right by Steve, even if Steve didn't understand. Bucky nodded. "Right. Of course." He hesitated a few seconds, debating. He could be a little selfish, could make himself suffer a little more. He made his decision and stepped into Steve's space, pressing his lips to his cheek. Bucky lingered for a moment, resisting the strong desire to grab him and kiss him and forget this whole thing.

Finally Steve hung his head and Bucky pulled back, neither of them saying anything more before Bucky walked out the door.

***

Steve

He wasn't sure how much time passed, laying there in bed, tears rolling down his cheeks. It was the silent kind of crying, contrasting his loud thoughts. The only noise in the room was his ceiling fan that he put on blast.

His phone began to ring eventually, and he had a surge of hope that it was Bucky, even though he felt sure that it wasn't. It seemed pretty definitive, after all. He dove for his phone anyway, Natasha's name flashing across the screen.

"You know, Steve, I don't particularly appreciate being stood up on movie night," she said when Steve picked up the phone, before he could even say anything.

"I'm sorry," he managed, voice muffled by the pillow his head was pressed against.

"You better have a good excuse. I got all dolled up in sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt just for you," she replied, teasing clear in her voice.

Not that he ever would forget their movie night – besides now, obviously – but if he did, he would banter with her over it, but now he just couldn't. He had to tell her, had to tell someone, had to just spit it out. "Bucky broke up with me." Just admitting it threw his world off its axis all over again.

It was quiet for several seconds, and he swore in that silence he could hear her plotting at least a dozen different ways she could kill Bucky, or at least torture him. Finally: "I'll be right there."

***

"I'm gonna kill him."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Relax, Nat." She glared. "He's one of your best friends," he reminded her.

"I don't care," Natasha said darkly. "And so are you. After everything, that's it?"

"Guess so. He was so weird when he first came over, but I never thought..." He swallowed. "I don't think I'd ever even considered the possibility that we would break up someday."

"I'm so sorry, Steve."

"I just—I don't know what I did. I've done my best to be a good boyfriend, I haven't ignored him for other things. At least I don't think I have. I know I work a lot, but I mean, I have to." His art really didn't make him as much money as he would've liked for all the time he spent on it. He had to do temp jobs on top of commissions, but it was worth it to do what he loved. "Oh God, do you think that's why? Did I put work before him? Did—“

"Steve." Natasha handed him the bottle of water from his bedside table. "Take a breath. Take a drink." He took a deep breath, counting to three, doing the same when he let it out. He twisted the cap off the bottle and took several gulps while she spoke. "You're very careful about balancing your time, because you know how you can get." Steve had a tendency to throw himself into his work and sometimes he would let everything else in his life fall to the wayside. He'd definitely improved at time management over the years, but he could still get careless sometimes. "Bucky knows that too, so I don't think he would break up with you over something he knew about when he got into a relationship with you. Something he’s known about you your entire life, basically."

Steve knew she was right. Of course she was. But he still wasn't any closer to figuring out what was going through Bucky's mind. He wasn't any closer to relieving the ache in his chest. "I just—I feel—it's like I'm drowning." Natasha hummed sympathetically. "I came close once, did you know?"

She shook her head. "No, I didn't."

"When me and Bucky were kids, at the public pool. He went to get us food and I wanted to swim a little longer. I went into the deep end and I—I don't really remember how it happened. I just remember trying to reach the surface, but I couldn't. I kept my mouth shut, I knew I couldn't let the water in, but..." Steve cleared his throat. "It was the most agonizing feeling, like my lungs were about to burst, like my head might explode, until everything went dark. Bucky pulled me out of the water, gave me CPR. The first thing I saw when I came to was him above me, probably the most panicked I ever saw him." Steve still had the image in his head, an eleven-year-old Bucky looking white as a sheet. "As soon as I was alright, he started yelling at the lifeguard because he'd been flirting with some girl and hadn't noticed me." Steve sighed. "I don't know what would've happened if he had gotten to me later."

"It's lucky he got there when he did then, huh?"

He nodded. "Bucky's saved my ass more times than I can even count. I've been so lucky to have him and I took it for granted, because I thought he'd always be here."

"He's not gone from your life completely," she said gently. "He can't be."

"I guess—I think he talked about staying friends."

"That's not much consolation, is it?"

"Not really. I don't know how to be just friends with him. I haven't been just friends for a long time." He blinked back tears. "I've loved him since I was five years old. Been in love with him since I was twenty. Maybe longer. How am I supposed to stop?"

"I don't know."

"You used to say all that stuff about love. That it's all crap, relationships aren't meant to last, whatever. Maybe...maybe you were right."

Natasha immediately shook her head. "You aren't that cynical. And I wasn't right. You and Bucky...well, your love is kind of sickening, but it's there, and it's real."

"Not anymore," Steve said wryly.

"Steve," she said softly. "I don't know what happened, but he loves you too. So much."

"I just—I miss him so much already, Nat. He's my best friend."

Steve wiped a few stray tears with the back of his hand and Natasha snuggled against him. "I know. I know."

At some point, Natasha fell asleep, still on top of the covers, her hair fanned across the pillow next to him.

He faced away from her, curled up on his side. His feet were cold and he definitely didn't want to think about the fact that Bucky would keep him warm. He didn't want to think about anything pertaining to Bucky, but nothing could make his mind stop running.

He drifted off, perhaps for over an hour. But he woke with a start after a dream about Bucky. The gist of it was that scene in that stupid Frozen movie – he'd just watched it the other night – when that guy said, “If only there was someone out there who loved you.” Which was ridiculous, because Bucky was definitely not anything like Hans. Steve may have been angry, but his feelings didn't totally cloud his judgment. If anything, he was probably the prince from Sleeping Beauty, mostly because both of them could dance.

God, he was losing it, relating Bucky to fuckin' Disney princes. To be fair, he used to save Steve from trouble weekly.

And that was just it. Bucky had played all sorts of roles in Steve's life. His best friend, his hero, the person he was in love with, his boyfriend, the one he intended to spend the rest of his life with. Ex-boyfriend was new. And something Steve had never even considered him becoming.

He buried his head in his pillow and it hit him all over again just how entrenched Bucky was in his life, and how he wasn't sure he could get used to it. He choked on a sob, trying to take deep breaths. He was unsuccessful, beginning to shake uncontrollably with sobs.

“Steve?” He felt Natasha's hand on his shoulder.

"My sheets smell like him," Steve said quietly. "He uses apple shampoo. Oh god, I think there's some in my bathroom.”

“You want me to get rid of it?” she asked gently.

“No, don't.” He wanted everything related to Bucky gone, but at the same time he didn't want to let anything go.

Natasha didn't say anything, just stroking his hair until he calmed down and fell back asleep.

***

The next morning over breakfast, Steve asked, "Can you do me a favor?"

Natasha took a sip of coffee. "Maybe."

"Can you tell Sam? And Tony, too? I don't think I want to retell it. And I'm sure Tony will take care of telling everyone else we know."

Natasha smiled sympathetically, gently squeezing his hand. "Done."

“What am I gonna do, Nat?”

“You are gonna let yourself be miserable. Wallow as much as you need for as long as you need. But come Monday, you're gonna pick yourself up and go to work, even if it hurts. You're not going to let this take over your life.” Steve nodded, and he felt so fucking grateful for Natasha in that moment. Her phone started to ring and he gestured, letting her know she could take it. “Romanoff.” She took the call into the next room and Steve sat at the kitchen table, intently studying the grain of wood. Anything, anything at all to keep his mind blank.

It didn't work.

Nothing worked.

***

Bucky

Bucky opened the door and: "You look like hell."

He snorted. "Feel like it too."

"Good, you should." Natasha pushed her way inside, immediately rounding on him as he closed the door. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I take it you talked to Steve."

"Yeah. Why the fuck would you break up with him? You're literally obsessed with each other. It's creepy, but it's way preferable to..." she gestured up and down at his disheveled appearance, "this."

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't—I just had to, okay?"

"Why?"

Bucky was usually a pretty good liar, but Natasha could see right through anyone, even him. So he had to keep it vague. "It's better off this way, Nat. Really."

"For who? Steve? Because I can tell you he's not. And looking at you, I think it's safe to say you're not either."

"You know I would never wanna hurt Steve," he said quietly. "But he'll be fine."

"Look, James, you're obviously both miserable, so—“

"I really don't wanna talk about it." Bucky couldn’t even complain about her calling him James, the way he did any time anyone outside of his family did so. She always did it anyway, mostly just to bug him.

She studied him for a long moment, Bucky shifting uncomfortably under her critical gaze. "Fine. Just know you're a grade-A dick."

"Believe me, I know."

***

October 2015 - Steve

Steve waits until the very last minute to go to the grocery store. He's run out of virtually everything except a few packs of ramen and the giant tub of ice cream Natasha bought him last week.

It's early Wednesday evening and there are very few other shoppers in the store. Steve likes the quiet.

Steve steps into the cereal aisle and spots him immediately. Bucky is holding up two boxes: Cheerios and Froot Loops. Steve knows which he’ll pick, and sure enough, he places the Cheerios back on the shelf and the Froot Loops in the basket on his arm.

His hair is in a bun, as per usual – his hair has grown out quite a bit since they broke up – and he looks so adorable all the time, especially in this moment, and Steve aches with how much he misses him.

Bucky looks at his phone, presumably to check the list of things he needs, and just as Steve is wondering whether he can get out of there without him noticing, Bucky looks up.

Steve waves awkwardly.

“Hey,” Bucky says, greeting him with a smile.

Steve walks closer, still keeping several feet between them. “Hey, how's it going?”

“I'm good, how are you?”

“Good.”

This is what they've turned into. People who make small talk when they run into each other, and nothing more. It's so much worse that things are weird between them because they see each other all the time. It shouldn't be this way.

Bucky eyes the red sweater Steve is wearing for a moment. "Is that mine?" Bucky winces, likely thinking he shouldn't have asked.

Steve flushes, glancing down. He has to answer, though he doesn’t really have anything to say for himself. "I dunno," he replies, scratching the back of his head. "All our stuff got mixed together over the years, you know." Of course, Steve knows it's Bucky's sweater, is wearing it because it still smells like him. Steve isn't unaware of how pathetic he's been the past few months, hasn't missed the pitying looks he receives from Sam and Natasha, but it's just—

How is he meant to move on from Bucky? Bucky has been his best friend for two decades and when they finally confessed their feelings for each other over a year prior, he never considered they would fall apart. He thought Bucky was it for him. He still thinks Bucky is it for him.

And now Steve is left to hold on to the few parts of Bucky he has left.

Bucky nods, but he clearly sees right through him. He knows Steve better than anyone, knows when he's lying, can see it in his eyes. "I can—I can try to sort things out, return whatever belongs to you," Steve says awkwardly, avoiding Bucky's gaze. “I mean, we never did that, I don't really care, but you might, I don't know.”

Bucky shakes his head. "Nah, I don't need that stuff, you can keep it."

Steve forces a smile. "Okay."

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to ask. Becca wants to know if you're still coming to the wedding. I mean, I assume you are, but..." he drifts off.

"I didn't—I wasn't sure if it was okay with you."

Bucky frowns. "You don't need my permission, Steve," he says quietly. "But I want you there, and I know Rebecca does too. You're her family too."

Steve's smile is more genuine this time. "Then I'll be there."

"Good. It means a lot to her."

***

Bucky

So Steve wore Bucky's sweater to go grocery shopping, and Bucky wears one of Steve's sweaters to sleep every night. It doesn't even smell like Steve anymore, and it's kind of embarrassing and pitiful, but it helps somehow.

Not that Bucky is moving on any time soon. Neither is Steve, it seems. The selfish part of him doesn't want Steve to move on, doesn't want to see him with somebody else, doesn't want another opportunity like Italy to come along and Steve to move far away from him. But mostly, Bucky just wants Steve to be happy.

The thing is, Bucky still finds himself reaching for Steve when he wakes up alone, without Steve's legs tangled with his or his face against the back of Steve's neck.

He still finds himself picking up his phone to text Steve little anecdotes about Bruce or Jane – his two favorite coworkers, who are both computer programmers like himself, but way smarter than Bucky, so he thinks they should really be doing something else with their lives – like when Jane's boyfriend came to visit her at work and he was like, twice her size. Or he'll be about to send a Snapchat of his grumpy face before he's had his coffee in the morning, and quickly put the phone back down. They're friends, sure, but he always stops himself from reaching out anyway.

He still finds himself about to say he's flattered but already taken whenever somebody flirts with him, though he hasn’t been taken for months now. He's never interested anyway.

He still finds himself frowning when Steve tells a funny story about Eric, this guy he works with, because last month he overheard Steve telling Sam that Eric asked him out. At least he said no. Which is a terrible way to think, because he wants Steve to have everything that he wants, everything that will make him happy. But he's just not ready for Steve to be with someone else yet.

He still finds himself wanting to curl up against Steve's side the way he always has when they're sat on Tony's couch and Steve looks so soft and comfortable and Bucky can't touch.

He still finds himself glaring at Natasha, who always raises an eyebrow when she catches him staring at Steve. Which is a lot. It's usually his lips, he's always thought Steve had such a pretty lips, and sometimes Steve will tell a whole story and Bucky misses the whole thing because he's so entranced by the way his mouth moves. It's embarrassing and kind of pitiful, he knows. But it keeps happening.

Bucky still finds himself doing things or wanting to do things the way he did when he and Steve were together. He finds himself acting as lovesick as he was for two years before they got together. He's not sure if Steve even notices. Everybody else does, probably. Natasha definitely does. But Steve's always been a little oblivious to these things, never realizing someone was into him until one of his friends pointed it out.

It's not like it matters, anyway. He loves Steve, he'll always love Steve, but it's over. It's better off that way.

***

February 2014

“I have a date tonight,” Steve said as they walked into his apartment.

Goddammit.

Bucky shut the door behind them, taking a second to compose himself. He turned around, carefully keeping his face blank and not looking at Steve. Bucky could feel Steve watching for some sort of response, but he didn't know why. It wasn't like Steve knew how he felt, right? So he put on his best charming smile and said, “That's great, Stevie. Who is it?”

He visibly hesitated a moment. “His name's Ezra.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I know what you're gonna say,” Steve started.

“That is such a pretentious fuckin' name. My god, where do you find these guys?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “He's nice. And he's an artist too. Nat set me up.”

“Why would she do that?” He didn't mean to ask that, and he hoped he didn't sound as bitter as he felt. Just. Natasha knew how Bucky felt, though he'd never actually said anything about it. He saw the looks she threw his way all the fucking time.

“Because I'm single.” Steve fiddled with the zipper on his jacket, avoiding Bucky's gaze. “And I don't particularly wanna be anymore,” he said quietly. Bucky's heart broke just a little, not just for himself, but for the expression on Steve's face. All he wanted was to wipe it off. He sighed. “It's not like I need a relationship; it's just...I get lonely sometimes. And I would like to settle down eventually, so...” he drifted off. Steve sighed and went into his room. Bucky followed.

It wasn't like it was hard for Steve to find someone who was interested. People constantly threw themselves at him and if they didn't, he was oblivious to their flirting. But the thing was, it was hard to distinguish between the people who actually liked him and the people who just liked how he looked, and didn't care to know how amazing he really was. Steve deserved to be with somebody who saw all the wonderful things about him, even if it wasn't Bucky.

“Look, Steve, just...be careful. Don't immediately start thinking this guy is the one or something.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think I would do that?”

“Because I've known you forever. You're a hopeless romantic.”

“I am not. I don't think—I've never dated anyone I thought was the one.”

“What about Peggy?”

Steve waved his hand at that. “We were too young.”

“You're never too young for true love,” Bucky sang with a very believable grin. Maybe he should've been an actor, because he was incredible at faking his emotions.

“Yeah, well, I'm worried about getting too old.”

“You're twenty-three,” Bucky intoned.

“And I haven't had a lasting relationship in years.”

“There's nothing wrong with that.” And maybe Bucky was just a little defensive because he hadn't either. “Look, my point is, I don't want you rushing into anything.”

“Why?”

And that was a great question.

Bucky was jealous, sure, but he did genuinely want Steve to be happy. “Because sometimes you get your hopes up about something only for things to turn out all wrong.”

Something must have given him away when he spoke because Steve asked, “Are we still talking about me?”

Bucky straightened up, looking him directly in the eye. “Yes, we are.”

Steve studied him for a moment. “I'll be careful.”

Bucky nodded stiffly. “Good.” He tried to think of something else to say and all he could think of was, “Wear that one blue sweater. It brings out your eyes.”

Steve blushed and it always thrilled Bucky to see him turn pink whenever Bucky or anyone else would compliment him. God, he was so in love with Steve, he swore it would kill him.

“Thanks, Buck.” Steve bit his bottom lip and goddamn, it was so unfair.

“You nervous?” he asked.

“A little. I dunno if he'll like me.”

“You're a catch, Steve. How could he not?”

Steve laughed bitterly. “Not everyone sees me the way I want them to.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Steve shook his head and Bucky opened his mouth to say something else, but then his phone started to ring. He looked at the screen and said, “It's work.”

“Go ahead.”

“Steve, I—“

“Bucky. Answer your phone.”

He felt like he was missing something, like a significant moment was being interrupted, but he complied, taking the call into the next room. Of course he was needed right then. He returned to Steve's bedroom, where Steve was still standing, typing on his phone. “I gotta go, Steve.”

He looked up and nodded. “Alright, I'll see you later.”

“Good luck tonight. Not that you need it." Steve gave him a tight-lipped smile and Bucky turned to go, pausing in the doorway. “And Stevie? Anyone who doesn't see how incredible you are is a fucking idiot. Just my opinion.”

Bucky left then, and spent the rest of the day trying not to hope Steve wouldn't enjoy his date.

***

April 2014 - Steve

"What's that?" Bucky asked as Steve made his way into the bedroom.

"Chicken noodle soup, just like my mom used to make."

"Sarah Rogers was an angel," Bucky mumbled.

Steve smiled, placing the bowl in Bucky's hands. "She was."

"Think you're an angel too, Stevie."

"You're delirious," Steve told him, wishing to hide the way his face flushed.

"Nah. You're takin' care of me on your day off, so you gotta be an angel."

Steve shrugged. "Where else would I be?"

Bucky just smiled down at his food, Steve sitting at the foot of the bed until he was done.

Steve sort of enjoyed waiting on him hand and foot. He would drop everything as soon as he heard Bucky call "Steeb" from the other room. It was kind of endearing. Everything about Bucky was kind of endearing.

It was just that...Bucky spent so much of their childhood taking care of Steve, and sometimes Steve felt like he had to return the favor. Bucky insisted that he didn't need to at all, that it's what Bucky was there for, but still.

He just wanted to be as good for Bucky as Bucky was for him.

Since Bucky hated doctors and refused to go when he got sick, his cold got a little worse than he anticipated. So Steve came over with cold medicine and made him soup, even made Bucky let him take his temperature, just to be sure his fever wasn't reaching dangerous levels. He brought him water and sat at his bedside, telling him stupid stories until he finally drifted off. Steve didn't want to leave Bucky in this state, so he stayed on the couch until morning.

***

"Thanks for taking care of me last night. Didn't mean to put you out."

Steve snorted. "You've dragged me out of a thousand fights and fixed me up afterwards; I think it's only fair I take care of you too. You know I'm always there, Buck."

It was true. Bucky had helped him with all the fights he couldn't finish, stopping anyone who hurt Steve. Then he would take Steve home and clean up his split lip and put ice on his black eye. Until he finally grew out of it, Bucky had begged Steve to stop getting into fights, but he never complained once about having to help him. Steve just wanted him to know that he would always be there too.

"Good to know, pal," Bucky said. "Y'know, I kind of miss savin' your ass sometimes."

Steve grinned. "Sap."

"Shut it, Rogers."

Steve pulled his phone out and opened the group message with Natasha, Sam, and Tony. "I'm telling everyone we know right now that Bucky Barnes is incredibly sentimental and gets nostalgic for the good ol' days."

Bucky heaved an ever-suffering sigh. "You do wonders for my reputation as a cold-hearted asshole."

"Bucky, nobody thinks that; you cried into my shoulder when we all went to see Toy Story 3."

"You said they didn't notice!" Bucky exclaimed with an accusing finger.

Steve shrugged. "I lied."

"I hate you."

"Sure you do, Buck." He finished typing out a response to Tony and pocketed his phone. "You're sure you're feeling better today though?" he asked seriously.

"Yes, Doctor Rogers, I'm fine," Bucky insisted with an eye roll. "If you'd actually let me get up..."

"Nope. Bed rest until you're better!" Steve reminded him.

"But I need to shower. I reek, Steve," Bucky whined.

"Well, I could help—“

Bucky's eyes widened. "No way."

"Bucky, we've known each other twenty years. It's nothin' I haven't seen before. And I saw how woozy you got just standing up earlier." Steve regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth, because yes, it was true, but dealing with a naked Bucky would probably put Steve into cardiac arrest. Or something.

But he was worried Bucky would pass out if he was left alone, even though he didn't seem so sick now. His fever had gone down and he was mostly just congested, sniffling every once in a while. Steve had experienced a few illnesses that seemed minor only to turn nearly fatal. He was lucky to be standing here now, really.

So Steve maybe stressed too much about these things, especially when it came to Bucky.

Bucky shook his head. "Just let me shower, please. I won't die."

Steve pressed his lips together. "Okay, compromise. I'll draw you a bath and if you're not out in thirty minutes, I'm coming in to make sure you're not dead."

Rolling his eyes, Bucky said, "Okay, fine."

A little over half an hour later, Steve looked up from his laptop at the sound of the bathroom door opening. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died on his lips when Bucky appeared with nothing but a towel sitting very low on his hips, drops of water running down his chest. "Um."

After taking in Steve's expression, a smirk spread across Bucky's face. "It's nothin' you haven't seen before, right, Stevie?"

Steve cleared his throat, averting his eyes. "Right." Bucky laughed and Steve tried to go back to what he was doing, but he couldn't focus anymore. Steve was thinking things he shouldn't have been about his best friend, thoughts he had tried very hard to push away over the last few years.

He knew if he admitted how he felt, Bucky would let him down easy, tell him he didn't want anything more than friendship. But Steve couldn't afford to do anything that might negatively impact their relationship; Bucky was his best friend in the entire world and he couldn't bear to see that change. So every time he thought about Bucky in a non-platonic way, he pushed the feelings down.

It wasn't so easy, considering Bucky was Bucky. How could he not think that way about someone who looked like that?

Bucky grabbed some clothes and returned to the bathroom, making Steve sigh in relief. He finished the email he was typing up and when Bucky came back into the bedroom a few minutes later, he was dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, looking very smug. He knew Steve had been staring before, because well, subtlety wasn't Steve's forte. He was surprised Bucky hadn't caught on any other time. Steve found himself staring a lot; he couldn't help it. That was how all their friends figured it out, honestly, but Bucky remained oblivious. Steve hoped, anyway.

Bucky climbed back into bed and smiled over at Steve. "I can't believe I'm actually following your orders of bed rest, like you're Florence fuckin' Nightingale or something." Steve snorted. "I feel great. Can't we watch a movie or somethin'?"

Steve agreed and Bucky scooted over, patting the space next to him on the bed. He got up from the chair and walked across the room, sitting down and settling against the pillows. Steve set up his laptop in front of them, putting on Pacific Rim at Bucky's request. Twenty minutes in, Bucky was already dozing against Steve's shoulder.

He considered waking him, but he just looked so cute and content. The movie continued playing while Steve smiled fondly down at Bucky, watching his chest steadily rise and fall. He returned his attention to the film, sneaking glances at Bucky's sleeping face every once in a while. He felt like a creep, but he couldn't help it.

Steve was in too deep.

A little while later, Bucky's eyes fluttered open – at this point, Steve was watching Bucky more than he was watching the movie – and he pulled his head off of Steve's shoulder, but didn't move away. Bucky looked at him for a long moment, his gaze moving from Steve's eyes to his lips. Before Steve could even realize what was about to happen, Bucky leaned up to kiss him.

His lips were soft and warm and Steve was frozen in shock. Bucky pulled back after mere seconds, before Steve could even respond, leaving him to gape at Bucky. "Oh." Real eloquent.

Regret washed over Bucky's face, eyes wide with panic. Fuck. Bucky thought Steve didn't want him, and Steve needed to say something, but he was still processing the fact that Bucky actually wanted him back. "Steve, I'm sorry, I—“

Steve cut him off, kissing him insistently, tangling his hands in Bucky's hair. Their teeth knocked together, making both of them burst out laughing. "I've wanted to do that a long time," Bucky said, their faces still only inches apart.

Steve grinned. "Me too."

"Aw, Stevie. I must admit, I thought that might go over badly."

"Not a chance," Steve murmured.

"Well, if I'd known that, I might've kissed you like two years ago."

"You been pining for me," Buck?" Steve smirked.

"Shut up."

"You so have!" Steve said gleefully, making Bucky blush. "You're adorable. It's okay, I've definitely been pining too."

Bucky smiled shyly, an expression Steve didn't think he'd ever seen on Bucky before. Bucky was always so charming and self-assured, but maybe he was just as uncertain as Steve had been. "Yeah?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah. I was so obvious, I can't believe you didn't realize.”

“Well,” Bucky drawled. “I've wondered sometimes, but I thought I was just bein' crazy.”

“Not crazy at all,” Steve said softly.

"We're just a couple of idiots, huh?" A beat. "I mean, I know you are, but—“

Steve shoved his chest and Bucky laughed loudly. "You're such a jerk."

"Punk."

"Already fighting, are we? That's not a good sign," Steve teased, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"Don't joke, Stevie."

Steve grabbed Bucky's hand, intertwining their fingers. "I just—I wanna say I'm serious about this."

"Are you?"

"Mm-hmm."

Bucky watched him for a moment. "You wanna be my boyfriend then?"

Steve broke into a wide smile. "Yeah, I do."

"Good, I wanna be yours too."

Bucky grinned, grabbing the back of Steve's neck and pulling him back in.

***

Bucky

"Steve, 'm gonna get you sick," Bucky mumbled.

"Don't care. You said you're feeling better anyway."

"I am, but..." He gasped at Steve sucking a mark onto his neck. Steve pulled back with a smirk, allowing Bucky to continue. "I think we'd appreciate this much more when I'm not dripping snot all over you."

Steve snorted. "That's beautiful, Buck."

"We can wait a bit, can't we?"

"Okay, whatever you want, pal." Bucky barely held back from kissing the pout on his face. Goddamn, his boyfriend was cute.

***

Steve padded into the kitchen and Bucky looked over his shoulder from where he was stood at the stove. "Morning, darlin'."

Steve gave him a sleepy smile. "Good morning." He came up behind Bucky, wrapping his arms around his waist, face pressed into Bucky’s hair. "Making me breakfast? You're such a good boyfriend."

Bucky grinned. "Well, I gotta impress you for now, but don't get used to it," he teased. Steve pulled back, moving around to lean against the counter. Bucky very pointedly didn't look at Steve's bare torso – Bucky's sweatpants were the only thing he was wearing – giving the eggs he was cooking more focus than they probably required. "How do you want your eggs, Stevie?"

"I like mine with a kiss," Steve crooned, a smile spreading across his face. And Bucky giggled, honest-to-god giggled at him. He leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to Steve's nose.

"You're so cute," Bucky said.

Steve took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. "This is really happening."

Bucky nodded. "Yes, it is."

"Scrambled, please."

Bucky blinked in confusion before he remembered his question. "Can do." Steve stepped backwards, lifting himself up to sit on the counter while Bucky cooked. Steve hummed to himself and Bucky couldn't control the adoration that was ready to burst his heart. He could really get used to this.

He kept finding himself looking over at Steve, because, well, how could he not? "Can you please get dressed? Christ."

Steve just smiled, a glint in his eyes. "But why, Bucky?" he asked innocently.

"You're distracting."

"Then I'm doing something right."

Bucky rolled his eyes, a fond smile playing on his lips. "You're a menace, you know that?"

"C'mere."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Wanna kiss you."

"If I come over there, I'm not gonna stop kissing you and then I'm gonna set my apartment on fire."

Steve actually pouted. "Please?"

Bucky sighed dramatically, as if it was such a hardship, before moving to stand in front of Steve. "I'm gonna be one of those boyfriends who yields to whatever you want, aren't I?"

Steve laughed, his hand cupping the back of Bucky's neck. "Think you already are."

"Hmm, fair point," Bucky replied before Steve leaned down and kissed him. It was just a press of their lips together, mouths closed, and it still left Bucky dazed when he pulled away. "God, I love you."

Steve's eyes widened, just slightly, but Bucky wasn't fazed. "We didn't say that last night."

Bucky's lips quirked up and then he shrugged. "I thought it was implied. But if you must know, I'm completely, disgustingly in love with you, Steve Rogers."

Steve's smile was blinding, so radiant, and Bucky felt sure that nothing could be better than this moment. He threaded his fingers through Bucky's hair and said, "I love you too." Nope, that was even better. Bucky got lost in the moment until: "Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"You didn't want to burn the apartment down, right?"

"What—oh shit."

***

Bucky and Steve were met with a chorus of "Finally!" when they told their friends that they were together.

"Took you both long enough," Natasha said.

"Thanks, Nat," Steve said dryly.

"I'm just saying. I've tried to get one of you to make a move for years."

"When'd you realize, Nat?" Sam asked. "It was last summer for me, when we all went to Bucky's family cabin for a weekend. I thought they were just super close, till I noticed Bucky giving him bedroom eyes the entire time we were swimming."

Bucky rolled his eyes and Steve looked delighted. “Yeah, give him more ammunition to make fun of me. Thanks, Sam,” Bucky said sarcastically.

"Ooh, this time a couple years ago at a club when Bucky was flirting with this guy and Steve kept shooting daggers at him," Tony put in.

Natasha just smiled smugly. "Ever since I met Steve."

"What? I didn't even know I liked him back then!" Bucky exclaimed.

"I literally told you that you did and you said I was wrong. Not my fault you're slow on the uptake."

Steve looked between Bucky and Natasha. "Wait, really?"

She nodded, her smile widening. "I wasn't sure about you at first, because I figured both of you pining for that long would've been ridiculous, but with Bucky, I knew the second I saw him look at you."

Bucky blushed, Steve smiling wide at him. "It's only been like two years," Bucky grumbled.

"Three for me," Steve said, his arm tightening around Bucky’s waist.

"Yes, well," Natasha said, "not everyone can be as perceptive as me, I suppose." They both glared. "Hey, it's not my fault neither of you would listen to me. Anyone ever tell you that you're impossibly stubborn?"

Bucky and Steve immediately looked at each other and said at the same time, "Yes."

***

November 2015 - Steve

It's just. It's impossible to move on from his and Bucky's relationship when he has to see Bucky all the time. They have the same friends, and—

They're friends too.

Of course he and Bucky are friends; they'll always be friends. But it's weird and the conversation is stilted more often than not. And every time things feel normal between them, Bucky teasing Steve along with everyone else, he just wants to kiss the smirk off Bucky's face.

Until he remembers he can't.

Bucky smiles at him and Steve smiles back and he feels so warm and then it comes crashing down on him again. In all the time he spends being miserable about Bucky, he would think he wouldn't forget so easily that they're broken up. Immediately, Steve shuts down and within seconds he's off Tony's couch and heading to the kitchen, saying he needs another beer, when really, he just needs to breathe.

As he opens the refrigerator, he hears footsteps coming towards the kitchen. He expects it to be Sam, suspects he and Natasha have some sort of pact to take turns checking on him. It was Natasha last time he freaked out, so.

He hates that they think he's so fragile that he can't stand to be around Bucky, but. He really can't stand to be around Bucky. Not when he has to hold back, the way he did when he and Bucky were just friends and Steve was afraid to admit how he felt, afraid Bucky would reject him. He's not sure how he survived back then. Then again, he's not sure how he's surviving now.

He shuts the refrigerator door and hears, "Are you okay, Stevie?"

Steve winces at the nickname. Bucky is the only person he would put up with calling him that, something Bucky used with a fond smile or when he was concerned about Steve, teasing or comforting. At this moment, it's definitely concern. Much as he grumbled about it, Bucky calling him Stevie always made him secretly pleased; now it stings. He’s pretty sure the last time Bucky called him that was when he was breaking up with him. "Sure," Steve says tightly. He turns to face Bucky, plastering on a smile.

Bucky moves further into the room, leaning against the island. "Are we okay?"

It takes Steve too long to answer, "Yeah." He swallows. "Of course."

"It's okay if you're still mad at me, you know. I wouldn't blame you."

Steve snorts. "Thanks so much for the permission, Buck." It comes out harsh and snide and Steve doesn't regret it one bit. Because Steve loves Bucky so much that sometimes he hates him for calling it quits and not even telling him why.

"So you are mad. Good. You've been acting way too polite these last few months, y'know."

He narrows his eyes at Bucky, setting his unopened bottle down on the island. "You want me to be mad?"

Bucky hesitates for a few seconds. "Well, if you are, then you can just, you know, lay it all on me. And then maybe we can go—“

"Maybe we can what?" Steve interrupts. "Go back to normal? I have been trying for months to be normal, Bucky. You're not the only one going through this. I'm sorry if you want your friend back, but I can't just...I can't just jump back into that. It's not fair that you think I should." He almost stops there, he really does, but then the rest comes tumbling out. "You're so fuckin' selfish, you know that? Breaking my heart for no good reason and then expecting me to go on like everything's fine." His tone is scathing and he doesn't know if he means it when he says Bucky is selfish, but he doesn't even consider taking it back.

Steve exhales loudly, glaring at Bucky, who looks contrite. "Steve, that's not what I was—“

"Bullshit," Steve hisses.

"Will you just listen to me?" Bucky pleads, reaching for Steve.

Steve stumbles backwards, needing distance, needing himself to not let Bucky touch him. Bucky's hand falls back to his side and somehow Bucky's attempt to comfort, to smooth things over, just infuriates Steve even more. "I don't wanna hear what you have to say. I don't care, because with everything you say, it's never an explanation. I don't know why you chose to end things like that, but I know I don't deserve this." His voice raises and he's vaguely aware of the other three people in this house, of the complete silence from the other room, of the fact that they’re almost certainly listening to every word, but he doesn't tone it down.

"You ended things between us when we were together so long and you expected me to just go back to being friends with you like nothing happened!" He exhales loudly and tries to ignore the fact that his hands are shaking. He finally blew up, finally let out just some of the anger he's held in for months, only for that overwhelming heartache to flood back in, taking its place. "You know, you said you'd always be there for me, Bucky. But then you left and you want things to be the way they were before and they can't be.”

“Steve...”

“I don't know how to be just friends with you," he says, voice breaking. "I miss you so much."

"I'm right here," Bucky says softly.

Steve shakes his head. "Not the Bucky I know."

Bucky opens his mouth to reply, but Steve is already stepping past him and through the doorway. He doesn't let himself look back.

***

Bucky

Bucky hears the front door shut and sighs heavily. He considers going after Steve, but he knows he fucked up too much to fix anything right now. He wishes he could just have the courage to say all the things he needs to, but he doesn't.

He used to be a good friend to Steve. Really. Top-notch.

And then he single-handedly ruined everything and he can't fix it while he's keeping a secret from Steve, a secret which is the only thing Steve is asking of him.

He can't let this one out, because Steve will see it completely differently from Bucky, and try to make him think it's okay when it really isn't.

He rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, taking a moment to compose himself. It's quiet throughout Tony's house, in spite of the other usually noisy occupants.

The silence is deafening.

When he returns to the living room, there are three pairs of eyes on him. "So what'd I miss?" he tries, going to reclaim his spot on the couch next to Natasha.

"You're an idiot, James," Natasha says bluntly.

"Don't I know it," Bucky replies.

She squeezes his hand anyway, because she's the best person in the world, probably.

Tony and Sam don't say anything, but they do give each other meaningful looks that Bucky pretends not to see. Eventually, they put on a movie, choosing not to bother Bucky about it, but he can tell they think he's being an asshole. He can't say he disagrees.

***

February 2005

Bucky didn't know where the hell Steve was. They were supposed to walk home together, but Steve never showed up at Bucky's locker and he waited long enough that it became cause for concern. He checked with Mr. Wilson, because English was Steve's last class, but nothing. He looked in the art room, but Steve wasn't there either.

He didn't want to panic, but what if Steve had an asthma attack and he was all alone? What if he didn't have his inhaler? Bucky wasn't sure what would happen if he didn't. He knew the process to stop an attack, but he didn't know the potential consequences if Steve didn't have his inhaler. Sure, Steve always brought his inhaler wherever he went, but there was a first time for everything. His brain jumped to images of Steve's tiny body collapsed on the floor of a bathroom somewhere in the building. He tried to push such thoughts out of his head, but to no avail.

He kept moving.

The hallways were virtually deserted at this point, and when he rounded the corner, he found Steve, and instead of an asthma attack, he had something else to worry about altogether. Tanner McKinney had Steve up against the lockers, Steve's feet not even touching the ground.

Bucky didn't hesitate when he quietly made his way over to them, determination taking over; he grabbed Tanner's shoulder, turning him around and punching him square in the face. Tanner was knocked down just as Steve slid to the ground. Bucky shook out his hand and knelt down next to Steve. His right eye was swollen and his breathing labored. "Hey, Stevie, you're okay," he murmured.

"You didn't have to do that," Steve said quietly.

"Are you kidding me? 'Course I did."

Just as Tanner was starting to sit up, Mrs. Evans, the chemistry teacher, came down the hallway, stopping in her tracks. "What is going on here?"

"He attacked Steve!" Bucky exclaimed, gesturing to Steve's face.

"You attacked me!" Tanner retorted. He wiped the blood coming from his nose with the back of his hand.

"Yeah, 'cause you were picking on someone who couldn't defend himself," Bucky said with an icy glare, before returning his attention to Steve. "You feelin' alright?" Steve nodded. To Mrs. Evans he said, "Can I take him to the nurse?"

"Of course, get some ice on that eye. I'll take care of everything here." Bucky stood up, pulling Steve to his feet. "We'll discuss consequences later," she said.

Bucky just nodded and wrapped an arm around Steve's waist, leading him away. They were both quiet as they walked through the school, Bucky seething at Tanner. "You're gonna get in trouble," Steve mumbled as they neared the nurse's office.

"You think I give a shit, Rogers? I'm not letting anyone get away with hurting you."

"I can take care of myself."

"Not a very smart thing to say to the person who's helping you walk right now."

When they walked in, Nurse Bailey's eyes widened. "Oh goodness, what happened?"

"This guy was bothering Steve here," Bucky answered.

"Sit down, I'll get some ice." Bucky sat beside Steve, suddenly itching to grab Steve's hand. Which was stupid. Steve didn't need Bucky to hold his hand. Nurse Bailey returned with an ice pack and pressed it to Steve's face. "This alright?" she asked him.

"Yeah. Thank you."

"It's just terrible that someone would do this," she remarked.

"I agree," Bucky said. He couldn't see it, but he knew Steve was rolling his eyes.

 It was silent for a few moments before a girl walked into the office, asking to speak with the nurse. She pulled the ice back and said to Bucky, "Can you—“

"Of course."

"Keep the pressure very light," she advised as she handed it off.

"Got it." She shuffled away and Bucky stood in front of Steve, gently pressing it against his right eye. "You alright?" Steve nodded, almost imperceptibly. "You gonna tell me what happened?" Bucky asked.

Steve avoided Bucky's gaze. Well, with the one eye that could've been looking at Bucky, anyway. "I went to ask Mr. Jennings a question about my art project after school, and I was on my way to go meet you, but then he just came out of nowhere. One second I was walking along and the next he pushed me against the lockers. I kept trying to get away, but I couldn't. He hit me a couple times, and he--“ Steve broke off.

When he didn't continue, Bucky prompted him. "He what? Steve?"

"He called me a fag." Steve said it in such a rush that Bucky was almost sure he misheard. But. He didn't.

"Stevie," he said softly.

"He told me off for looking at him and his friends in the locker room. But I—I didn't mean to—“

"Stevie," Bucky repeated. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"But he was right," Steve admitted quietly, finally meeting Bucky's level gaze. "I like girls, but...not exclusively, I don't think."

Steve glanced over Bucky's shoulder, presumably to make sure nobody was listening. "There's nothing wrong with that," Bucky said fiercely. "He had no right to do that, to call you that."

"You're not...it doesn't make you uncomfortable if I like boys?"

Bucky shook his head, pulling the ice back and setting it on the desk. "'Course not, Steve. You think there's anything in the world that could stop me from being friends with you?"

Steve shrugged. "I was afraid you would."

"Well, you can't get rid of me that easily. You're stuck with me forever."

"I don't think I mind too much."

"The only thing I can say is you need better taste if you're lookin' at Tanner and his friends. I mean, really." Steve cracked a smile and Bucky grinned back, both of them dissolving into laughter a few seconds later. They laughed until Steve was wheezing and Bucky was immediately on alert. "Shh, breathe with me, Stevie."

"I'm okay," he gasped.

"It wasn't even that funny," Bucky said.

"It's the thought that counts. God." Steve broke into another wide smile. "Thank you, Buck."

"Anytime."

***

November 2015 - Steve

Even four months later, the breakup infiltrates every part of his life.  He sees Bucky constantly. He has to change the station when certain songs come on the radio while he's driving to work. Occasionally, acquaintances ask about that boyfriend of his and he has to tell them they broke up, still has to receive sympathetic looks months after the fact. The birthday card he received from Bucky's mother just days after things ended sits in the top drawer of his dresser. He doesn't want it, but he can't get rid of it. He can't get rid of anything.

Bucky hasn't taken any of his things from Steve's apartment, and Steve hasn't had it in him to return them, even though it feels like he's being mocked every time he finds something else that he knows isn't his. More often than not, he wears an item of Bucky's clothing, just for some sort of comfort. He doesn't touch the books or CDs that Bucky left behind though.

He knows he has stuff at Bucky's too, is sure Bucky wouldn't have nearly as much trouble letting go of those things as Steve. If he asked, that is. But he doesn't ask, because Bucky giving him his things back would give it a finality that Steve just isn't ready for.

Now, after telling Bucky off, he can barely stand to be in his apartment. But the only people he wants to talk to are with Bucky at Tony's place, so he doesn't really have anywhere he can escape to. He feels Bucky's presence everywhere, all the time, and it's suffocating. He can't breathe with Bucky gone, but still lingering in Steve's life. He'll learn to deal eventually, he supposes, but after all this time, it still hasn't gotten any easier.

He tries not to think that he's colder at night because Bucky isn't there.

It doesn't really work.

And Steve is just so tired. He falls asleep alone and only dreams of Bucky.

***

Bucky

Bucky has been standing outside Steve's apartment door for a solid ten minutes. He fucked up majorly and he knows it, knows that it takes a lot for Steve to get seriously angry with Bucky. He doesn't know if Steve would rather have space, but he needs to rectify things. At least the best he can. It's just a matter of working up the nerve to knock. Before he can, the door is swinging open.

Steve stops short when he sees him, eyes widening. "Bucky."

"Hi."

"Um, I was just on my way out."

"Oh. Well, I can—“

"No," he says quickly. "Uh, come in." Steve steps to the side and Bucky walks in, hearing the door shut behind him. His apartment looks pretty much the same, and he doesn't know how he feels about that. They haven't hung out alone since the breakup, only along with their other friends. It's a little weird. Steve sets his keys down on the table by the door, and Bucky can feel his eyes on him. "Do you want anything to drink?"

Bucky finally turns to look at him, running a hand through his hair. "I'm good, thanks."

"Okay." A moment passes before they start speaking at the same time. "Bucky—“ and "Listen, I—“ Steve smiles crookedly. "Go ahead."

"I wanted to apologize for last night. You were right about everything, I haven't been fair to you at all. I just...I didn't realize how difficult all this would be." Steve nods. "Believe me, if I felt like I could explain why I...did what I did, I would. But I can't." I know you'll think I'm an idiot, I know you'll say you didn't want to leave, I know you'll insist I'm not holding you back.

"Bucky," Steve starts.

"And I get it if you're angry about that, I get it if you hate me—“

"You know I don't hate you," Steve interrupts.

After a moment, Bucky nods. "I know. I—I don't really know how to fix this. I mean, if you need space or something, I'll understand."

"I don't need space," Steve tells him.

Bucky isn't sure he believes that. "Okay."

"It's just gonna take me a while to be normal again."

"That's alright," Bucky murmurs. "It makes sense."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"Think I deserved it."

Steve's lips quirk up. "Probably." A beat. "We're gonna be okay."

Bucky takes a shaky breath. "Okay." Steve tentatively wraps his arms around Bucky and what is he supposed to do but return the embrace? He buries his face in Steve's neck, arms tightening around his waist. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

***

Bucky goes home, feeling much lighter than he did hours before. He puts on a random sitcom to play in the background while he catches up on work emails. He hasn't allowed himself to get behind on work since the days immediately following the breakup, and he's not about to start now. After replying to the most time-pressing emails, he makes mental notes to answer the less urgent ones later, and he puts his laptop away. He lies down on the couch and watches an episode of Friends, falling asleep before it's even over.

When he wakes up in the morning, an infomercial is playing and there's a crick in his neck, but he's more well-rested than he's been in months.

***

They're at Tony's that weekend, watching Big Hero 6, and Bucky is absolutely loving it. He's really a sucker for cute animated films. When there's a knock at the door, Tony whines about having to answer it, saying it's probably Steve and why doesn't he just use the key Tony gave him? Natasha pauses the movie, not bothering to move her feet from the table as Tony climbs over her legs and leaves the room. Sure enough, Bucky hears Steve's voice moments later, insisting for the millionth time that he feels weird just walking into somebody's house.

Bucky tries to ignore the knots in his chest that are pretty much constant now, and Natasha says something to him as he reaches for the bag of chips on the coffee table, but he misses it when Sam speaks. "Hey, Steve, how'd your interview go?" he calls over the back of the couch. Bucky becomes more alert then, because what?

Tony returns to the living room, Steve in tow. He smiles and waves at Bucky and Natasha as he sits in the armchair and focuses on Sam. "It went pretty well, I think. I'm supposed to hear back sometime this week."

"Nice, man. They'd be stupid not to hire you."

Steve grins, ducking his head. "What was the interview?" Bucky asks. It shouldn't bother him that he's no longer privy to such information. It's his own fault, he knows, but still.

"Oh. It's a graphic design position at this advertising company," Steve tells him. "They do a lot of campaigns for social issues and stuff."

"Wow, that sounds perfect for you," Bucky replies, giving him a genuine smile.

Steve smiles back. "I hope so."

***

Bucky is watching Steve animatedly talk to Nat out on the balcony, smiling fondly from the living room. "You're not exactly discreet," Tony tells him.

Bucky blinks. "What?"

Tony rolls his eyes, looking pained at the way Bucky plays dumb. "You're obviously still in love with him, Barnes," he says. "Why don't you kiss and make up and put us all out of our misery?" Bucky grits his teeth.

"I can't," he says dejectedly.

Tony raises an eyebrow. "And why not?"

Bucky hasn't told anyone why he broke up with Steve, hasn't explained just why he can't fall back into Steve's arms, much as he wants to. "You always talk about how Pepper is too good for you, right?"

"Yeah," Tony snorts. "Have you met her? I'm the luckiest man alive." Bucky smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Tony furrows his brows. "Wait. Is that why you broke up with Rogers? You think he's too good for you?"

"It's—it's more complicated than that."

Tony shakes his head. "Spare me the self-loathing bullshit." Bucky starts to protest, but Tony cuts him off. "Listen, Steve thinks the sun shines out of your ass; that's been obvious as long as I've known both of you. The thing with Pepper is, she doesn't think she's too good for me, so she's here until she believes otherwise. And I can't speak for Steve, but I'm pretty willing to bet he'd say the same for you."

Bucky sighs, looking at Steve through the glass doors before turning back to Tony. "A couple weeks before we broke up, Steve got this art fellowship thing in Italy. I sure as hell don't know what it entailed, but I know it was a great opportunity. I found the letter, started freaking out, asking why he didn't tell me. He said he applied months before, mostly to see if he could get in. He said he'd already rejected their offer, that his life was here, in Brooklyn, with me."

"Okay, I'm missing the problem," Tony says.

"I don't want Steve to miss out on any opportunities because of me. That's not a good enough reason."

"Sounds like he already made that choice. Besides, apparently he's about to have a fancy new job anyway."

"Well, I didn't want him to do that again. I don't want to hold Steve back from anything. I just kept thinking about it, worrying about Steve not following his dreams, so. I broke things off." Bucky knows Steve better than anyone, knows Steve will put Bucky first, no matter what. That's why Bucky had to let him go.

Tony stares at Bucky for a long moment. "You really are a fucking idiot."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Tony—“

"You really don't think breaking up with him was a little drastic?"

Bucky folds his arms across his chest. "No, I don't."

Tony finishes off his glass of whiskey and sighs dramatically. "How do I put up with any of you?"

***

June 2015 - Steve

"You wanna order pizza or somethin'?"

"Sure," Steve said absently, bent over his sketchbook. "Think I have some coupons...somewhere."

"You're a goddamn mess, Rogers," Bucky grumbled, but there was no heat behind it. He started to shuffle through the multiple piles of magazines and papers in the living room while Steve continued his drawing, shading in Bucky's messy hair.

He never would get tired of drawing him, though Bucky asked multiple times how he didn't get sick of his face. Steve would just tell him that he'll get sick of Bucky's face when he's sick of Bucky himself. "So, never," Bucky would say. He was right.

"What's this?"

"Hmm?" Steve didn't look up, but he was met with silence that lasted too long. When he tore his gaze from the page, he stood up and walked over, looking over Bucky's shoulder. "Oh, it's just that art thing I applied to." He noticed that Bucky looked anxious, fingers holding tight to the page.

"In Venice," Bucky added. "Why—why didn't you tell me?"

It clicked then why Bucky had that expression on his face. Steve immediately moved so he was standing in front of Bucky, grabbing the letter from his hand and letting it fall back on the table. He took both of Bucky's hands in his. "I told you about it months ago, remember? You told me to apply, at least to see if I could get in. I wasn't—it's not like I was that serious about it."

"I meant, why didn't you tell me you got in?"

Steve shrugged. "I don't know."

"What about now? Do you—do you wanna go?"

Steve could tell that Bucky was worried that Steve wanted to move across the world, leave Bucky behind, and it killed him that Bucky would think that for even a second. He didn't think he could ever do something like that. Steve shook his head. "I already said no."

Bucky stared at him. "You what?"

"I said no," Steve repeated. "I mean, my life is here, in Brooklyn, with you. I can do art anywhere, so why go to another country when I can stay right here?"

"Stevie..." Bucky started.

"Don't worry about it, Buck. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Bucky exhaled. "Okay."

***

"You okay?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. Just a long day."

"Think I can help with that," Steve said with a grin.

Bucky smiled back and let Steve pull him in.

***

Bucky

Bucky felt like he couldn't breathe, no matter how much air he tried to inhale. His lungs felt like they were constricting. Was this how Steve felt when he had an asthma attack?

God, Steve...gave up an incredible opportunity to stay in Brooklyn with Bucky.

It was too much, too much, too much.

Would Steve later resent him for it? It's not like Bucky asked him to stay. Did Steve think Bucky would've asked him to stay?

Would Bucky have—?

No. He would never have asked Steve to throw away a chance to live his dreams. He didn't want Steve to.

But he couldn't very well sit back and let Steve put Bucky before himself. Not like this.

***

November 2015 - Steve

When he finally forces himself to clean up around his apartment, Steve finds the letter and replays that conversation in his head. Looking back, he wonders if he read it all wrong. Did Bucky want to break up with him at that point? Did he want Steve to go so it wouldn't hurt him so much when Bucky wanted to end things? Was what he thought Bucky being upset at the thought of Steve leaving merely disappointment?

He knows he shouldn't torture himself with these thoughts, especially not after all this time, but he still doesn't have a single clue as to why Bucky broke up with him. He wonders if Bucky told anyone else the reason. Sam and Nat would surely tell him if they knew anything though. And he doubts Bucky would ever tell Tony anything like that. Tony isn't exactly the person someone goes to for advice or someone to listen, considering he usually makes everything into a joke.

Should Steve ever reach the stage where he’s ready to make light of the breakup, he’s going to Tony first.

If anybody besides Bucky knows, it's not likely they'll tell Steve.

***

Steve hangs up the phone, filled with giddiness, and heads back into Sam’s kitchen. "I got the job!"

Sam turns from the counter and grins at Steve. "I knew you would. Congratulations, Steve."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it. No more temping, finally."

"When do you start?"

"Monday. Five days, shit."

"You're gonna do great," Sam assures him.

"Thank you, Sam." Steve laughs in disbelief. "This is so perfect, I have to tell—“

Steve doesn't have to finish the sentence for Sam to recognize what he was going to say. Of course. "Hey, you can still tell him."

Steve nods. "I know."

"Pizza should be here in twenty. We can even have some of my good beer since we have cause for celebration and all." Steve is grateful for the subject change. Sam understands him very well.

Sam claps him on the back and gives him a smile. Steve returns the smile, though it feels a bit forced. “Thanks, Sam.”

***

His mother died three years ago today.

Steve thinks of that last day together, thinks of all the memories they rehashed that night. He thinks of the countless times she took care of him when he was ill. He thinks of the first time she brought him to Coney Island and bought them both hot dogs and wouldn't let him go on The Cyclone. It turned out she had good judgment, because he threw up immediately afterwards when he finally went years later. He thinks of their day trips to the beach on the weekends over the summer. He thinks of her concern whenever he got pushed around, and the way she pressed her lips together as she cleaned him up after a fight – if Bucky wasn't around to do it.

He thinks of her warm smile as she told Steve and Bucky to behave whenever Bucky came over to play. He thinks of how she simply laughed and said she knew when Steve told her he was in love with him.

He wishes she could've seen them finally get together.

He thinks of one of their last conversations, when she encouraged him to tell Bucky how he felt. He thinks it doesn't matter that he did, because everything went up in flames anyway. He insisted so many times that he couldn't lose Bucky, and somehow he still did.

She was so supportive of everything he did, believed in him so completely, and he just misses her so fucking much.

Sarah Rogers deserved so much more time than she got.

He wishes more than anything that she could be here now.

***

Bucky

"What's today?" Bucky asks the bank teller as he signs his name.

"November fourteenth,” she answers.

Bucky freezes, the pen hovering over the line next to the word "date". November fourteenth. Fuck. He should've realized earlier.

It takes him fifteen minutes to work up the nerve to call Steve. It shouldn't be this way, but it is. He listens to the ring three times before it clicks and he hears a quiet: "Hi, Bucky."

"Hey Stevie, I just wanted to check in. I—I know today's a hard day for you."

"Yeah, it is," Steve says softly.

He knows Steve needs company today, but will never ask for it himself, so Bucky is the one approaching the subject. "Do you need anything?" Bucky asks. "I mean, I know we're—but I could come over if you want?"

"You would do that?"

"You're still my best friend." Even if I'm not yours, he thinks.

It's quiet on the other end for a moment, until Steve eventually says, "That'd be nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'll buy us a pizza on the way," Bucky tells him, then adds, "I'll even get that gross pineapple shit you like."

He’s sure Steve is rolling his eyes. "See you soon, Buck."

"See you soon," Bucky confirms before hanging up.

***

November 2012 - Steve

"I'll be back tomorrow," Bucky told Steve's mom.

"Okay, darling," she said. "Try to convince Steve to get some sleep, will you?"

She threw a weak smile in Steve's direction. "I'm fine," he said stubbornly.

"Yeah, okay, Rogers, don't think I'm not going to make sure you get home tonight. You need to take care of yourself." Both Bucky and his mom had told him this countless times, but Steve had a tendency not to listen.

"Thank you, James," she said. Bucky waved goodbye and slipped out the door. "He's such a sweet boy," she told Steve.

"He's also a pain in my ass."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"That he's a pain in my ass?" Steve asked. "Think he already knows."

She gave him a look. "You know very well what I mean, Steven Rogers."

"I can't lose him, Ma. I'm already—I can't."

She smiled sadly at him, patting his hand where it rested on her bed. "Just think about it. I only want you to be happy."

"I know."

She went quietly just hours later, Steve still by her side.

When Bucky called him that night, Steve tried to speak, to get out any words, but nothing came out. Bucky knew immediately, promising he would be right there, staying on the phone with Steve until he arrived.

Steve had mostly been holding it together while the doctors spoke to him and gave their sympathy. He didn't want their sympathy; he just wanted his mom. And she was gone.

He listened to Bucky's soothing words over the phone until he heard a very soft "Steve." He looked up and there was Bucky, clad in a hoodie from high school and plaid pajama pants, sneakers not even laced up.

Steve had mostly been holding it together. But he took one look at Bucky and crumpled. Bucky was across the room and wrapping his arms around Steve's waist in no time, practically holding Steve up while he sobbed into Bucky's shoulder, as he was sure to collapse otherwise.

He hadn't had an asthma attack in years, but it felt like he would then. It took several moments for him to realize Bucky was even speaking. He was babbling, really, telling Steve that it would be okay, that he was there, promising not to go anywhere.

Steve didn't respond, and just held on tighter.

***

November 2015 - Bucky

There are only a few slices of pizza left and Steve stopped crying – for the third time – about twenty minutes ago. Bucky has been asking questions about his new job that starts in two days to keep him distracted.

Steve is very enthusiastic, hand gestures and all, and Bucky is putting a great deal of effort into keeping the fond smile off his face. “Your ma would be proud of you, you know,” Bucky tells him.

Steve nods. “I wish she was here.”

Bucky shifts on the couch, his knee pressed against Steve’s. “I know, me too.”

Steve looks at him and it’s no wonder Bucky didn’t realize Steve had feelings for him, because he’s always looked at Bucky like he’s amazing. That’s one thing that’s never changed over the years, even when Bucky most certainly does not feel amazing.

The two of them are closer together than Bucky realized.

Suddenly Steve is leaning in and Bucky is panicking, but he doesn't immediately move away. He wants to let it happen, wants Steve's mouth on his, his fingers tangled in Bucky's hair the way he's always liked. He wants so much.

Bucky put his hands on Steve's shoulders, gently pushing him back, just as their lips brush together. He couldn't be weak. He couldn't give in. "Steve," he says softly.

Steve won't meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"Don't be sorry." I want to kiss you, I don't want to push you away, I want to be yours again.

Steve lifts his head, giving Bucky a long look. He wants so badly to get rid of the hurt expression on Steve's face. He could. He could, but he can't. Eventually Bucky tears his eyes away and Steve clears his throat. "I should probably get some sleep, anyway."

"Steve. I'm so fucking sorry." Bucky reaches out, fingertips brushing the side of his face. Steve shuts his eyes for a moment and he's so beautiful, so soft and warm. "For everything."

He opens his eyes. "I know you are." Not it's okay, not don't be.  Because it's not okay and Bucky should be sorry, and he knows that.

Bucky reluctantly pulls his hand away. "I'll, uh, I'll go now." Steve nods. "You'll be alright tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Thank you for being here."

"Always." Bucky has promised that a thousand times, and no matter what has happened between them, no matter what he's done, he means it.

***

April 2006 – Steve

“Go Bucky!”

Bucky looked up to the bleachers, grinning at Steve from his spot on the field. He raised his hand to wave before turning his attention back to the game that was about to begin.

Steve never had much interest in sports, mostly due to the fact that he wasn’t very good at them. He didn’t really care to watch them either, but it was worth it to see Bucky in action. And unlike Steve, he was good at virtually every sport, so here Steve was, ready to cheer Bucky on at his first baseball game.

Steve wasn’t sure what was going on half the time, because he was so focused on Bucky, even when he wasn’t doing anything. He wasn’t the only one there to support Bucky; there was a group of girls from their grade cheering him on as well. It wasn’t surprising. Everyone loved Bucky.

Bucky ended up getting the last home run, giving their team the winning points. Steve stood up and cheered with everyone else and caught Bucky’s eye, whose smile was blinding.

As soon as the teams were done congratulating each other on the good game, Steve hurried down to the field to meet Bucky. “Hey, you were amazing out there!” he exclaimed.

“Thanks Stevie! I can’t believe you came,” Bucky said happily.

“Of course I did. You know I'll always be here for you, Buck.”

Bucky grinned. “You sure you're not just here for the guys in baseball pants?”

Steve shook his head. “Just a really nice bonus.”

“You know I could easily find you someone to date if you wanted.”

“If I wanted that, I would've taken you up on the offer one of the other million times you've said that.”

“I'm just sayin'. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Buck. But I’m good. Really.”

“Alright.” He slung an arm around Steve’s shoulder. “So are you gonna take me out for a celebratory ice cream?”

***

November 2015 – Bucky

Bucky can't stop thinking about the kiss.

It wasn't even a kiss. It was an almost kiss. As in he almost let it happen. What if he had just let it happen?

What if he had spilled everything to Steve and let himself fall apart and they both put each other back together?

No. He had to stay strong for Steve, because he was in a bad place, and Bucky would never want to take advantage of that. He just wanted to take care of Steve that night, but he didn't even do a good job of that.

He can play the what if game all he wants, but whatever scenarios he imagines won't change the current situation. And the situation now is the two of them going from barely speaking to not speaking at all. It's only been a few days, but a few days of not talking to Steve is practically forever, since they had finally become a little more normal recently.

Bucky feels as if he just keeps fucking up and every time he fixes anything, something else unravels.

Maybe he should just stop trying and let things resolve themselves.

***

January 2014 - Steve

Steve picked the wrong night to be designated driver. Okay, to be fair he didn't want to spend money on the amount of alcohol it would take to actually get him drunk, but still. He was now regretting that decision, wishing he could get plastered.

It wouldn't change the fact that Bucky was sucking some guy's face at this very moment in time. But it certainly could have helped ease the misery he was feeling. He didn't want to drag his friends down, but there was no way he could pretend he was alright. And even if he could, they would all see right through him.

Pepper was kind enough to get Tony to keep his hands to himself; a couple being all over each other would only have made him more bitter than he already was.

Nat and Sam kept the conversation going, trying to distract him as best they could. Sam told him about this really cool research project he was doing, but Steve could barely follow. He kept glancing around, not surreptitiously at all, but luckily he had very understanding friends. He hoped Bucky would return to their group any second, the guy completely forgotten. But he never did.

He excused himself to the bathroom, praying Bucky remained in whatever dark corner he was occupying. God, he really hoped that if Bucky was willing to hook up with someone in a public bathroom, that it wasn't now, in this club.

He eased the door open, finding it vacant and sighing in relief. He washed his hands, staring at himself in the mirror. Steve was usually a pretty modest person, yet he had to admit he looked good tonight. The color of his shirt brought out his eyes, or so his mother would always say. Tony pointed out multiple people who were checking Steve out, but he wasn't the least bit interested in any of them. The one person he wanted to notice was with someone who was practically a stranger. Which. Wasn't a bad thing. He was just jealous that a stranger could touch Bucky in ways he never would.

He came back to the table to find just Sam left, taking a swig of his beer. The others were probably back on the dance floor. Steve slumped against the back of the booth, eliciting an eyebrow raise from Sam. "You alright?"

"I like him so much, Sam." Sam just gave him a look and Steve sighed. "I love him, you know I love him, everyone knows I love him. I've been pining so long. It's pathetic."

"It's not, man. I think it's pretty normal."

"It's been three years. And he doesn't have a clue." A beat. "I hope he doesn't have a clue."

"You think he'd do that in front of you if he did?"

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face, the images of Bucky with his tongue down that guy's throat still fresh in his mind. One look across the dance floor and he'd felt his heart crumple in his chest. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, but it still hurt to watch. "No. He wouldn't."

They were both silent for a moment. "Look, Steve, I've let you deal with this situation how you see best for a long time, but maybe I can offer some unsolicited advice?"

"Go ahead."

"The way I see it, you've got a few options. You could tell him."

"Not a chance," Steve replied.

Sam smiled. "I figured you'd say that. Second, you could try to move on, see other people."

"I have tried that; it doesn't do much good. And I don't like to lead people on."

"Yeah, well, you're a good guy."

"Any other options?"

"You continue the way you are now." Something must have shown on his face, because Sam's voice was gentler when he continued. "Look, I don't think Bucky is gonna be oblivious forever, especially with the way you look at him all the damn time." Steve huffed a laugh. Sam wasn't wrong there. "But he isn't going to react badly if he figures it out or you decide to tell him."

"I know that."

"Steve, have you even considered the possibility that he might feel the same?"

Steve blinked. "No."

"Well, maybe you should."

"He's with someone else right this second," Steve reminded him.

"Yeah, someone else who looks like a second-rate version of you. No offense to that guy or anything; not everyone can be as hot as me or you."

Steve couldn't help but smile a little at that. "So what?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, seems like Barnes has a type. Something to think about."

***

When Bucky met him for coffee the next morning, he greeted Steve with a smile and Steve didn't even try to squash the butterflies in his stomach. Bucky sat down across from him and said, "Hey, how was your night?"

"Um, it was good." Bucky nodded and he couldn't help but ask a little pointedly, "How was yours?"

Bucky just smirked in response, and Steve swallowed his feelings down along with his coffee.

***

November 2015

Steve's first day is kind of terrifying.

He's a nervous wreck the entire subway ride, bouncing his leg, much to the annoyance of the guy next to him. He barely slept the night before, worried he would oversleep.

But once he actually gets to the office, he receives a warm welcome and it eases his nerves a bit. All of his coworkers are incredibly nice, something he didn't believe possible before. His boss, Maria, is brilliant and hilarious and she seems to be the kind of person who can be kind and warm one second and kick your ass the next. He's impressed and definitely a little intimidated. But she seems to like Steve, so he feels pretty lucky about that.

Overall, things go well. He miraculously doesn't manage to screw anything up and he feels pretty sure that he's made some new friends.

Steve forgets sometimes that people can like him without his attachment to Bucky. When they were younger, he got so used to people only tolerating Steve because he was Bucky's best friend and Bucky most certainly would've broken the nose of anyone who said a negative word about him.  And even though he has several good friends, it's easy to revert back to the way he felt in high school, before his growth spurt, when he was an easy target for anyone who wanted someone to pick on. It's good now though. Most people are much less cruel after high school.

Being so busy has (mostly) kept him from thinking about his disastrous attempt to kiss Bucky. They haven't spoken since, Steve successfully avoiding him the last few days. Of course Steve will have to see him at Natasha's birthday party on Saturday, but at least there will be plenty of other people there to focus his attention on.

***

August 2014 – Bucky

“I'm so fuckin' proud of you, you know that? You're amazing.”

Steve flushed, ducking his head at the compliment. “Thank you. Thank you for being here.”

“As if anything could keep me away. I'm gonna tell everyone here that I'm the artist's boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And they'll be so jealous that I get the most talented, beautiful, sweet man all to myself.”

“Wow, Buck, you must have another boyfriend you're talking about," Steve said with a grin.

Bucky glared. “Shut up and let me give you the praise you deserve.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve relented. “Be as complimentary as you want tonight.”

Bucky stepped into Steve's space, leaning in to murmur in his ear. “You look so fuckin' good in that suit; I can't wait to get it off you.”

Steve's breath hitched. “Bucky...”

“I'm just sayin' what everyone in this room is thinking. 'Cept I'm the only one who gets to take you home.” Bucky pulled back and smiled innocently, spreading his arms to gesture to the gallery. “Go get 'em, darlin'.” Steve paused, looking at Bucky for a moment. “What?”

Steve reached out to grab Bucky's waist and pull him back in. Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead, something so simple making Bucky feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Now go.”

***

November 2015 - Steve

"Hi."

Steve smiles at the pretty blonde who's just appeared at his side. "Hi."

"I'm Sharon."

"Steve." She seems familiar to him, but he can't place where. She must be one of many of Natasha's mysterious friends who he's never met.

"You wanna dance, Steve?" Sharon asks.

"Oh, uh, I'm not very good at dancing, to be honest."

"That's okay," she says. "You're cute enough that I can let it slide."

Steve flushes. "I'm flattered, but—“

"Are you spoken for?" she asks.

"Not exactly," he answers.

"So come on." And then she leads him onto the floor.

***

Bucky

"You seem jealous," Tony remarks.

Bucky whirls around, sighing when he sees it's Tony. "Steve can do whatever he wants. That's part of being broken up."

"Doesn't change the fact that you're jealous. Or the fact that it could be you out there. And should be you out there," Tony says, nodding to where Steve is dancing with some girl. She's close, too close, and—

He doesn't have a right to be jealous, but he is. "Come on, Barnes, go get your man."

Bucky doesn't bother correcting him, saying that Steve isn't his man. "No," he says flatly. Tony raises an eyebrow. "I'm not interfering. It's Steve's life."

"You're pretty fuckin' stubborn, you know that?"

He thinks of all the times Steve said the exact same thing. Of course, Steve has always been just as stubborn as Bucky, if not more. "So I've been told."

***

Steve

Sharon allows Steve a reprieve from his awful dancing, and he’s incredibly grateful. They’re standing off to the side and chatting over a Britney Spears song when Tony appears before them. “Let me hear you say, 'Hey, Miss Carter.'” Sharon rolls her eyes at Tony.

“Hi, Tony.”

Steve places the reference before the meaning registers. “Wait. Sharon...Carter? As in Peggy's cousin?”

She stares, mouth falling open slightly. “Oh my god, you're Peggy's Steve.” She turns to Tony, eyes accusing. “Why did you—“

“I did not know that,” Tony says with wide eyes.

He looks guilty and Steve looks between them suspiciously. “What?”

“Well, nice talking to you both, I think Pepper is waving me over, bye!”

Tony is gone in a flash and Steve notices Pepper across the room, deep in conversation with Natasha. Of course.

He looks at Sharon expectantly. “Okay, let me just preface this by saying that if you weren't my cousin's ex, that I probably would have actually flirted with you of my own volition.”

“But?” he prompts.

“But...Tony asked me to.”

Steve's eyes narrow. “Why?”

“To make your ex-boyfriend jealous,” she admits. “He hoped to, quote, 'get his ass into gear.' I'm sorry, Tony just made it sound like such a good idea. For true love, and all that.”

“It's okay,” Steve says quickly. “Tony is really good at convincing people to do what he wants. And I know he just wanted to help, even if it didn't work.” He is sort of mad at Tony, but not so mad that he can't admit that he usually has good intentions, even if he's a little careless sometimes.

“I wouldn't be so sure, Bucky kept looking our way before disappearing to the balcony.”

“Oh.”

She smiles. “Are you gonna go talk to him?” Steve shakes his head. “Why not?”

He shrugs. “He broke up with me. If he does want me back, he has to be the one to do something about it.”

“Tony says he's too stubborn.”

“He is,” Steve agrees, “but so am I. I haven't given up on him yet, even though part of me thinks it's a lost cause.” He cringes slightly, divulging such information to someone who's practically a stranger, but Sharon doesn't seem fazed.

“Well, as an impartial party, the guy wants you back. Maybe we gave him the push he needs.”

“Maybe.” She waves and turns to go. “Hey, Sharon?” She stops. “Thank you.”

She smiles again and disappears into the crowd. He considers going outside, but he doesn't want to push Bucky. Instead he goes to find Sam.

On his way, he comes across Pepper, sitting with Tony at the bar. He tries to get away as soon as he spots Steve, but Pepper catches him by the sleeve of his shirt, pulling him back onto his chair. “What the hell was that about?” Steve asks.

“Alright, buddy, I was just trying to help.”

“What did you do?” Pepper asks with narrowed eyes.

“Uh.”

“Tony.”

“Let me just start by saying that Tony Stark is a romantic. You know this, Pep. Just call me Cupid.”

“Oh my god,” Steve mutters.

“Do you insist on referring to yourself in the third person?” she replies.

“Absolutely. Anyway, I may have had Sharon flirt with Steve a little bit to make his ex-boo jealous and hopefully knock some sense into him.”

“Sharon is Peggy's cousin,” she intones.

“I know that now. None of us were aware of that little tidbit of information, but we all learned a valuable lesson, I think.”

“You shouldn't interfere,” she says.

“I agree,” Steve interjects.

“I know, dear.” A beat. “I mean Steve. Sorry, Pepper.”

She gives him an unimpressed look. “They're perfectly capable of figuring things out themselves.”

“Before they're put in a nursing home?”

Pepper's lips twitch and she rolls her eyes fondly. “Okay,” Steve interrupts, “why did you think meddling in my relationship with Bucky was a good idea?”

“Frankly, the both of you are bringing everyone down.” Steve rolls his eyes and Tony turns more serious. “C'mon, you both deserve to be happy.”

Steve ignores that. “But why did you think that would work?”

“It did! Sort of. Clearly, it didn't spur Bucky into action, but he was jealous, so it was a partial success. A little more needling and he'll be falling into your ridiculously large arms in no time.”

“Look, Tony, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but Bucky has made it clear that we're done. I maybe haven't accepted that yet, but I respect his decision.”

“He still loves you. Everybody knows that.”

Tony looks to Pepper for agreement. “It's really not my business, but...it does seem that way.”

Steve shrugs. “I don't know about that.

“You and Bucky are both idiots,” Tony says.

Before Steve can respond or even give him his best withering stare, someone calls Tony's name and he disappears into the crowd. “I'm sorry he did that,” Pepper says. “He means well.”

“I know.”

“For what it's worth, I hope you and Bucky work things out.”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “So do I.”

***

Bucky

It's too cold to be outside for as long as he has been during November in Brooklyn, but Bucky couldn't be in there anymore.

When he hears the door to the balcony open and shut behind him, he expects Natasha, because he didn't miss the concerned look she sent his way as he walked across the room and stepped onto the balcony. But when he turns around, he's surprised to see the girl Steve was with. She looks just like Steve's type and he's reminded of how bitter he used to feel, watching Steve date other people.

He'd forgotten how that felt.

He never would have thought six months ago that he'd have to experience that jealousy again.

Bucky nods at her, taking another drag of his cigarette. "I'm Sharon."

"Bucky."

"I was, uh, I was dancing with Steve out there."

"I saw."

"Real nice guy and all, but definitely not interested in me. See, he kept looking over at you. Stepped all over my feet when he saw you come out here."

Bucky smiles fondly, thinking of times he and Steve danced around the living room, though Steve was far from graceful. Bucky still loved every second of it. "He's not very coordinated when it comes to dancing." She nods and smiles. "Is there a reason you told me that?"

She shrugs. "You were looking at him too."

"Maybe I was just amused by his poor dancing skills."

Sharon smirks. "Somehow I doubt that. If you wanna talk to him, which I’m willing to bet you do, he's inside playing pool." She gives him a knowing look. "Nice to meet you, Bucky."

She slips back inside, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Bucky wishes Steve would move on, because it kills him to know he's hurting, to know it's his fault. He loves Steve, has loved him since their last year of college. He supposes he's always been in love with him, but he didn't realize until he was twenty-two and Steve pretended to be his boyfriend when some guy at a club wouldn't leave him alone. When all was said and done, Bucky couldn't help but think he wished Steve actually was his boyfriend.

He wishes the same thing now, but he can't be with Steve under the circumstances, so he just has to suck it up. Easier said than done, he supposes.

He eventually makes his way back inside and spots Natasha at the bar. “Hey, birthday girl. You enjoying your party?”

She grins. “I am. Are you?” He nods and her face softens. “Seriously, you okay? You looked pretty upset earlier.”

“I’m fine, just being dumb.”

“You’re not.”

“I just—I really fucked this one up. I miss him and I can’t even do anything about it.”

“You could.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Nah, I really couldn’t.”

“Hey, you can’t mope on my birthday.”

“Your birthday isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Whatever. I just wanna see you smile.” He complies, though it feels more like a grimace. “Very believable,” she says dryly. “Seriously, if you don’t want Steve to be with anybody else, you should go talk to him. Fix it. He’s in the next room.”

She pats his shoulder and hops off the barstool, walking away to talk to one of her work friends. He wonders if it’s that Clint guy that she always talks about, but hasn’t introduced any of them to. Bucky makes a mental note to try to meet the guy later.

Outside of their friend group, her life is mostly a mystery. She keeps her cards close to her chest; she could be married with six kids or a secret spy and none of them would know it, probably. She’s good at sharing a lot without actually giving that much information. It’s impressive to Bucky, who feels like people can just see right through him.

Bucky doesn’t know why he decides now to go try to find Steve, but he does. He’s playing pool, just as Sharon said, and almost definitely kicking Sam’s ass. Steve laughs at something Sam says, his face lighting up, and there's a pang in Bucky's heart. He tells himself over and over that he did the right thing, that no matter how much he still loves Steve, he did the right thing.

It doesn't really work, so he makes his way through the crowd and to the bar, hoping to forget his thoughts altogether.

***

February 2012 - Bucky

While Steve was in the bathroom, the guy who had attempted to dance with him earlier headed Bucky's way. He had said no at the time and walked off the dance floor to find Steve. Now, sitting at the bar, Bucky noticed him coming and released a long-suffering sigh before downing the rest of his drink. The guy appeared at his side and took the seat on Bucky's left. He was smirking, Bucky could tell, even without looking at him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Bucky hardly glanced at him. "No, thanks."

"How about a dance?"

"I already said I wasn't interested."

"C'mon, baby, I know you want to."

"No," Bucky said flatly, looking in the direction of the restrooms, hoping Steve would be back soon and they could leave immediately.

He turned to face the guy, who was still smirking at him, like he thought he could wear him down. In another context, Bucky might've looked at him and thought he looked nice, but here, he saw just how smarmy this guy was. He was at least ten years older than Bucky which. That may have worked for some people, but definitely not Bucky. "I'm Rob," he said, flashing him a grin.

"Y'know, Rob, maybe you should take a hint and leave me the fuck alone."

"Ooh, someone's feisty," Rob remarked.

Bucky resisted the urge to punch him, mostly because he didn't want to deal with the aftermath. "If by feisty, you mean completely uninterested in having anything to do with you, then you'd be right."

The guy just rolled his eyes, as if he experienced this all the time. Probably did. As if being persistent enough, Bucky would eventually agree to one of his propositions.

It was so not happening.

***

Steve

Meanwhile, Steve stopped in his tracks once he got through the sea of people and saw someone talking to Bucky. He couldn't see Bucky's face as he talked to this guy, but he didn't miss the tension in his body, an obvious sign of discomfort. Bucky was usually pretty good at getting rid of people like this, so clearly this guy wasn't letting up. It made Steve's skin crawl to witness creeps cause anyone discomfort, but it was even worse to see with Bucky. The guy didn't appear to have his hands on Bucky. Not yet, anyway. Steve wasn't about to let him have the chance.

Pushing past a few people, he made his way back to the bar where Bucky was grimacing at the man before him. "Hey, babe!" Steve said as he reached him. It occurred to him as soon as the words left his mouth that he could have dealt with this in a different way, not pretending he and Bucky were together, but here he was. Bucky looked over and Steve smiled wide, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, his hand settling on the small of Bucky's back.

Bucky flushed and—huh. Interesting. Bucky definitely did not embarrass easily. The man immediately moved backwards, looking between Steve and Bucky for a moment. However, he didn't leave right away, so Steve figured he would keep it going.

He moved his hand up, running his fingers through Bucky's hair. "Did I mention how good you look tonight?" he said in a low voice.

Bucky swallowed. "No, I don't think you did."

Steve hummed. "Well, you look amazing." He came closer then, trailing kisses down to Bucky’s jaw. "So good. Think I should take you home soon." He heard Bucky's breath hitch and Steve smiled against his skin. He wanted to elicit that sound all the time. Steve saw the man scramble away in his peripheral vision and pulled away.

As soon as the guy had disappeared from sight, they took one look at each other and burst out laughing. "Jesus Christ, Rogers. You really know how to lay it on thick, don't you?"

Steve silently thanked god that he didn’t make things weird by doing any of that. His daydreams of taking things further than he did just now would not ruin things between them. "Hey, it worked didn't it?"

Bucky nodded. "Thanks. You didn't hafta do that.”

“Hey, it was either that or punch his lights out to defend your honor, which I know you don't need me to do, so.”

“Yeah, I considered that route too, believe me, but I like this club and I don't wanna get banned.”

Steve snorted. “Can't say I blame you. You alright, though?”

Bucky nodded. "Just irritated. I hate guys like that. Christ. Can we get outta here?"

"Of course."

***

Bucky

Bucky went straight to his bed once he got home. He usually would've been out as soon as his head hit the pillow, but he was wide awake now. He just—he kept thinking about the feeling of Steve's lips against his skin, the warmth of his hand steady on Bucky's back, the way his voice was dripping with desire.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. It was all an act, but it felt very real. He didn't even know Steve could be that good at pretending; he usually was a pretty shit liar.

His mind wandered to other scenarios, to Steve's hand in his, to waking up beside him, to those soft lips on Bucky's. Eventually to things he couldn't even repeat.

It was fucking crazy and he knew he shouldn't have been thinking about Steve in that way.

But.

He really wanted Steve in that way.

***

November 2015 - Steve

That wonderful feeling at work remains and he's so fucking happy that he gets to do something important and use art to make a difference, almost forgetting that he gets paid to do something he loves.

But pay day comes and the gratefulness he feels to whatever higher power made this happen for him increases immensely. He's needed something good in his life after the last few months and he finally got it. Not that Bucky was ever the only good thing in his life, but he was always the best.

Things will get better though. He was to believe that. Steve has to believe that even though Bucky doesn't want to be with him anymore, that he can still be happy.

He has plenty of things in his life to be happy about, especially his wonderful friends. With that in mind, he decides to FaceTime Peggy over the weekend after his second week of work.

“Steve, hello!” she greets cheerfully when the call connects, her wide smile appearing on the screen in front of him.

“Hey, Pegs, how are you?”

“I'm doing well. Keeping very busy with work and all. How are you, darling?”

“I'm good,” he answers honestly.

“Still enjoying the new job?”

“Yeah, everyone's amazing, I love it there.”

“I'm so glad,” she says sincerely. “You deserve it.”

He smiles at her. “Thanks.”

"I wanted to surprise you," Peggy says, "but since you called, I might as well tell you. I'm going to be in New York next week. Angie and I."

Steve grins. "Seriously?"

Her red lips form a mischievous smile back. "Yes. Do you think you can make time for an old friend?"

"Absolutely. You wanna get the whole group together? I think we all wanna meet the girl who's stolen your heart."

"That would be lovely! Oh, how is everyone?"

"Everyone's great. Sam is about done with his master's degree, Tony continues building things I can't even begin to understand and making a ridiculous amount of money off of it, Natasha is amazing and a mystery as always."

"And Bucky?" she asks tentatively.

"He's good, I think."

She raises an eyebrow. "You think?"

It's a little strange sometimes, talking about their respective love lives with each other, but he doesn't really mind. She told him last year that she had figured out his feelings for Bucky back in college because of course, multiple people figured it out before he did. He and Peggy had only dated for the semester she studied abroad; a whirlwind romance that ended in a great friendship.

He shakes himself back to the present, to the matter at hand.

"It's—" He sighs. "Things are still weird. It's like every time things get better between us, something goes wrong."

"Well, what's gone wrong?"

"I kissed him," he admits. "Well, I tried to, anyway. I haven't told anyone, I don't know if he's told anyone. He came over on the anniversary of my mom's death and he was just there and being Bucky and I...I didn't even think about it."

Her eyes are sympathetic. "What happened then?"

"He stopped me and apologized and then he left." He doesn't say that he felt sure Bucky was about to kiss him back. It doesn't matter, because that's not what happened. "Since then, we haven't talked much. Not that we did before."

Peggy nods. "I'm sure he feels awful. Not that it makes it better, of course."

"He does, I know he does. I'm just not sure it's enough."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean it's been months and I haven't begun to move on. Not one bit. Even though he feels bad, I don't know if that's enough for things to ever be okay between us again."

"Steve, darling, I know you don't want to hear this, but..."

"But?" he prompts.

"But I think Bucky is in your life permanently. It may not be the way you want, but your lives are too intertwined for you to cut him out."

"I don't—I'm not saying I don't want him in my life. I do," he says insistently. "I just want us to be okay." More quietly he says, "I just want him to want me again."

"I know."

"I think he does, maybe. Want me, I mean. But he's too stubborn to ever admit that, whatever the reason is for him breaking up with me."

“Well, here’s hoping he comes around.”

***

March 2011 - Steve

"Wow. You got it bad, Steve."

Steve blinked at Natasha. "What?"

"For James."

“He hates when you call him that,” Steve said automatically. Then: "What? No. We're not. I'm not. What." They weren't—he wasn't—

That was a ridiculous notion.

She smirked a little, the way she did when she knew better than someone else – which, he supposed, she usually did. "It seems like you are."

"He's my best friend," Steve told her.

"I know that. But the way you were looking at him just now – the way you look at him most of the time, come to think of it – well, let's say most people don't look at someone they're just friends with like that."

They were at a frat party – at Tony's insistence that they come – and Steve was greatly amused by a newly twenty-one Bucky, taking advantage of being able to legally drink, and his drunken attempts to dance with Sam. He was always amused by Bucky; in no way did that mean he had feelings for him.

Steve shook his head, smiling. "You're crazy, Nat."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

She cocked her head at him, considering. Steve didn't like the look on her face. “You know you can tell me anything, Steve. I would never reveal your secret to him.”

“I know. I trust you. But it's not like that.”

Some sort of understanding crossed her face, and Steve didn’t like that either. “Oh, you poor sap.”

“What?”

“The entire time I've known you, I thought you were in just ignoring your feelings or you just didn't want to say anything, but you really don't have a clue, do you?”

“Natasha.”

“I've been able to see the hearts in your eyes ever since James introduced us. It's embarrassing.” Steve blushed in spite of himself. Maybe he did look at Bucky differently than he did other people, but that's because his relationship with Bucky wasn't like what he had with anybody else. “Lucky for you, I don't think he's caught on.”

“We're best friends,” he said weakly. “We—we've been best friends forever. That's all.”

Natasha gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Okay, whatever you say."

She disappeared into the crowd, and Steve was left with an uneasy feeling in his chest. He looked back at Bucky, who caught his eye and smiled wide. Steve smiled back and tried to relax.

It wasn't as if he hadn't ever wondered about it. He noticed that he wasn't only attracted to girls, but also boys, when he was fourteen. And well, Bucky was certainly part of that realization. But he would have to have been blind to not see how good-looking Bucky was. He was curious as to what it would be like with Bucky, but it didn't mean anything. It wasn't like he was romantically interested in his best friend.

And when Bucky came out as gay when he was seventeen, those thoughts came creeping back in. But just because Bucky and Steve both liked boys, that didn't mean that something more was there between them. Bucky got a boyfriend, Steve got a girlfriend, and he pretended he had never imagined anything with Bucky.

Natasha was wrong, plain and simple. That did happen sometimes, right? Just because she was usually right about stuff didn't mean she was always right.

Steve didn't feel as certain about that as he hoped to.

His gaze returned to Bucky yet again and his mind was flooded with even more thoughts than the one Natasha put in his head. Bucky was his best friend and Natasha just had to be wrong this time.

Steve pushed down any lingering thoughts of Bucky as anything more than a friend, turning around so he could find his way outside and get some air. If he told himself it was only the heat in the house that suddenly made it hard to breathe, then, well, that was his business.

***

Bucky fell asleep in the passenger's seat of Steve's car on the way home that night. He looked over at a stoplight and couldn't look away, seeing how peaceful Bucky looked, not noticing for a moment that the light had turned green.

After setting Bucky up on the couch in his living room – because he knew Bucky would get onto him if he let Bucky have the bed when Steve had back problems – Steve crawled into bed, picking up his phone to text Nat. I think you were right

She replied within seconds.

Told you so.

***

December 2015 - Bucky

Bucky loves Peggy. Loved her when they met, loved her when she dated Steve, and he still loves her now.

Bucky loves Peggy. But that doesn't get rid of the knot in his chest at the sight of her and Steve together. They haven't dated in years, but the irrational part of him worries they'll get back together now. He knows Steve really loved her, that she was the first person he ever was really in love with. That doesn't go away, Bucky thinks. But maybe that's just because Steve is the first person he's ever been in love with. And possibly the last.

He has to remind himself that Peggy and Steve stayed friends after their breakup – much more easily than Steve and Bucky – and that's all this is. She's only visiting for a week or so and then she's going back to England, so it's not likely anything's going to happen there.

Eventually, he pulls himself out of his thoughts, returning his attention to his friends. "No way, Pegs, that's amazing!" Steve says, grinning widely and hugging her awkwardly from his chair.

"What?" Bucky asks.

"She's proposing to her girlfriend tomorrow night," Steve answers and Bucky's brain short-circuits.

"Girlfriend?"

Peggy laughs. "Have you been listening at all?"

Bucky gives her a sheepish smile. "I'm a little distracted, I guess.” Peggy smiles, and he swears that somehow she knows everything he's feeling right now. He has to admit that he's pretty obvious. “Congratulations though, that's really great."

She smiles wider. "Well, she hasn't said yes yet."

"As if she won't," Steve says, nudging her with his elbow.

"You two are a gorgeous couple, by the way," Nat cuts in. "I can't wait to meet her."

"She's excited to meet you all, as well," Peggy replies. "Oh, please don't spoil the surprise when she arrives."

"Why did she look at me when she said that?" Tony asks. The four of them give him an unimpressed look. "I can totally keep a secret." He points across the table at Bucky. "Barnes knows." Jesus fucking Christ. Tony's eyes widen at the glare Bucky shoots at him, immediately making a motion with his hand, pretending to seal his lips. Bucky rolls his eyes and looks away to find Steve looking between him and Tony in confusion. Bucky can already hear the question on his lips, asking what that was about, but Bucky just shakes his head. Just the reason I broke up with you, that's all. If Steve intended to say anything, he's prevented from doing so by Peggy engaging him in conversation. Thank god for Peggy Carter.

His phone buzzes and he slides it out of his pocket. Tony: Sorry about that, big guy. Won't happen again. At the end, he put the emoji that looks like a grimace. He puts the phone away and surreptitiously gives Tony a thumbs up. They're alright. He figures making it these few weeks without spilling his secret is practically a lifetime for Tony. He trusts him to keep it.

***

May 2007

"I'm gay." Everything stopped for a moment, Steve staring at him, mouth falling open in shock. "You're the only person I can tell, Stevie. You're the only person I know for sure will still love me."

Steve immediately wrapped his arms around him, Bucky's shoulders shaking. "Of course I do." Bucky buried his face in Steve's neck, trying to get his breathing under control. Steve pulled back to look at him. "Your parents will still love you too, Buck. Your sister."

"But what if they don't? I've seen all those stories about kids getting kicked out and disowned and I can't—" He cut off, letting out a shaky breath.

"Then you'll have me. We could share my room. We always said we would live together in college, anyway."

"You would do that for me?"

Steve nodded. "Anything."

***

Steve was right, of course. His ma told him she loved him, tears streaming down her face, and his dad gave him a hug and said he was so proud of Bucky.

The first thing he did afterwards was call Steve. "I did it."

"How'd it go?" Steve asked anxiously.

"It was perfect," Bucky said, trying not to get choked up again, but definitely not succeeding. "God, I feel like I could do anything right now."

"You can do anything," Steve told him.

Bucky's heart threatened to fly out of his chest, already about to burst from his joy and relief at his parents' love. "You're such a sap."

"Jerk."

"Punk." A beat. "Thank you, Steve."

"You don't need to thank me, Buck."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Just accept my gratitude."

"Okay. I'm really proud of you."

Bucky smiled. "Me too."

***

December 2015 - Steve

Steve has rules. He has to keep going to work every day, even on the days he doesn't want to leave his bed. He can only allow himself to cry about Bucky so often, or else he'll sink into a funk that he won't be able to pull himself out of.

He has to let it out this weekend, so he can get through Becca's wedding next Saturday without breaking down. He's struck with the awful reminder of how excited he had been to go with Bucky when she first announced her engagement several months ago. Becca insisted she still wanted him there, and he wants to be there too. She's like family to him, after all.

So he maybe spends all of Sunday watching sad movies on Netflix, but it’s fine.

It’ll all be fine.

***

January 2015

"Quit watchin' me," Steve grumbled into his pillow.

"I'm not!"

"You are, you're watching me sleep, and it's creepy."

"You're just so cute, Stevie."

Steve couldn't help but smile at the fondness in Bucky's voice. "You're such a fuckin' dork."

"Love you too." Steve shuffled closer and tangled his legs with Bucky's, eliciting a groan. "Why are your feet always fucking freezing?"

"It's not my fault I run cold," Steve grumbled.

Bucky had complained about it a million times, but still always allowed Steve to shove his feet between Bucky's calves. Steve had a feeling he didn't really mind. “Guess I just gotta make sure you stay warm then.”

“I guess so,” Steve agreed with a grin.

***

December 2015

"I swear I almost kicked his ass when he told me," Rebecca says.

Steve smiles. "Yeah, well."

Rebecca looks beautiful, her dark hair pulled back, several intricate braids wound together around her head. She told him that the lace gown she’s wearing was her mother’s, and he finds that to be incredibly sweet.

"Are you okay?" she asks seriously.

"Trying to be," he admits, taking a seat in one of the fancy looking armchairs.

“The last few months, I wanted to...I don't know, reach out. But I didn't know if that was okay.”

“Of course it is,” Steve replies. “Just because Bucky and I broke up doesn't mean you're any less important to me.”

“Ugh, Steve, don't make me cry on my wedding day.” He laughs lightly. “But seriously, right back at ya.”

Steve sits quietly while her friend touches up Rebecca’s makeup, committing the details of these moments to memory, so he can sketch her later. He thinks she would appreciate that.

"Oh, Steve! You look wonderful!"

Steve looks over to where Bucky and Rebecca's mom is standing in the doorway and he smiles, getting to his feet. "Thank you. You look beautiful, Winifred."

"Thank you, sweetheart." She grins as she comes into the room to wrap him in a warm embrace, Steve melting into it. No one can replace his mom, but Winifred really took care of him after Sarah passed. "I'm so glad you came," she murmurs when she pulls away.

"I wouldn't miss it." Becca smiles at them in the mirror as she checks her hair.

Winifred studies him for a moment, eyes brimming with tears. "I thought—I had hoped you and James would be next." He hasn’t seen Bucky since he arrived, but he knows he’s somewhere in the church, bound to appear at any moment.

"Ma," Becca starts.

Steve swallows, unsure how to respond. Winifred winces. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, that's completely inappropriate."

"No, no, it's okay," he assures her quickly. Of course Steve had hoped for the same. With Rebecca getting married today and Peggy having just gotten engaged, it's all a little much for him, happy as he is for everyone. He's just a little jealous.

"I just want both of you to be as happy as Rebecca, you know that?"

Steve nods. "Me too," Becca agrees.

***

November 2012

"How are you holding up, sweetheart?" Winifred asked, shutting the front door behind him.

"I miss her," Steve said softly. "I knew it would happen eventually, she'd been sick for so long, but..." He swallowed. "I still wasn't ready."

"I'm afraid you never really can be ready to lose someone." She swept his hair off his forehead and he leaned into it for a moment before practically falling into her warm embrace. "Shh, I know," she murmured.

"Thank you," he whispered.

He pulled back seconds later, Winifred gently squeezing his arm. "James is in the living room."

"Okay."

Steve started down the hallway, but she stopped him. "Steve. If you need anything at all, I'm here for you. We all are."

***

December 2015 - Bucky

Bucky finds himself staring, probably gaping at Steve. He's seen Steve in a suit on multiple occasions, but not all that recently. The last time must've been Steve's art gallery last year. And right now he looks fucking incredible. His suit fits perfectly over his broad shoulders, his thighs, his ass—

He hears a cough, and looks up to see Rebecca narrowing her eyes at him. He'd forgotten that other people were in the room. "You—you look nice," he tells Steve finally.

"Oh. Thank you. So do you."

Bucky pushes down the thoughts of ripping Steve's suit off of him. Rebecca looks at him knowingly and he hates it.

How can he be expected to just ignore how attractive Steve is? Bucky is only human, after all.

***

March 2015 - Steve

"I'm gonna marry you someday," Bucky murmured.

Steve hummed contentedly against Bucky's chest. "What makes you so sure I'll agree?"

Bucky snorted. "I can be very persuasive. Besides, I think you'll prefer waking up to my face every day instead of someone else's ugly mug."

Steve grinned, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. "Good point." He sat up to look at Bucky, the light from the street lamps casting a yellow glow on him. "I don't want anyone else," Steve said softly.

Bucky turned his head, smiling softly. He pressed a kiss to Steve's temple, fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. Steve leaned into the touch, letting his head fall against Bucky's shoulder, before he fell asleep.

***

December 2015

“I have something to confess.” Winifred addresses Steve and Bucky.

Bucky glances at Steve. “What is it, Ma?”

"Well, see, it's just...we haven't told anyone about the two of you."

Steve watches as Bucky's eyes widen. "Why not?"

"I didn't want them asking you a bunch of questions," Winifred says. "You know how nosy they are. I hadn't even thought about it until someone asked me if Steve would be here."

Steve can feel Bucky's gaze on him, but he can't look back at him. He's honestly speechless. What is he supposed to say? "So what, should we just pretend we're not..." he drifts off.

Bucky immediately shakes his head. "You don't have to."

"I don't—I wouldn't want anything to take away from Becca's day."

"I'm so sorry," Winifred says.

"No, no, it's fine," Steve promises. It's not fine, not at all, but it's also not her fault. He isn't sure how the hell he's going to pretend to still be dating Bucky. He doesn't have to fake being in love with him, because he still is, but he does very much have to fake his happiness.

If Bucky would just be honest with him, he could've gotten closure months ago, and this wouldn't be so difficult, probably. As it is, Steve and Bucky have to pretend to be together for the rest of the day. Great.

***

Steve definitely doesn't cry when Rebecca comes down the aisle.

Nope.

No tears shed at all.

***

"James, why aren't you dancing with your lovely boyfriend?" Eliza, Bucky's aunt, asks.

He looks over at Steve who says, "I'm not big on dancing."

"Yeah, he's got two left feet," Bucky tells her with a grin. Steve glares, inexplicably annoyed at Bucky. It doesn't bother him that he's not a good dancer; he accepted that years ago. And he shouldn't be annoyed about Bucky teasing him now that they're broken up, because it's not any different from when they were together. Except it is.

He's in this perpetual state of being mad at Bucky, so whether he's teasing, or being pushy, or making Steve laugh, or being too careful of his feelings, Steve is constantly seething under the surface. Sometimes it flares up, but he has to keep it down today. Just for today. Suppress it all no matter how much Bucky frustrates him. He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out.

Which stage of grief is anger? He hopes it’s one of the later ones. Maybe acceptance is coming up.

"Come on," she cajoles Steve as he sips his champagne. "It's a wedding! Speaking of, are we going to see yours soon?"

Steve chokes on his drink and Bucky turns bright red. Bucky immediately grabs Steve's hand while he's still coughing. "Alright, let's go dance, Stevie." Steve hears Eliza laugh as they make their way onto the dance floor with the other couples. She thinks she just embarrassed a couple, talking about their future, unaware of the fact that they're ex-boyfriends who no longer have the future Steve once believed they did.

Steve tries not to flinch when Bucky puts his hand on his waist. Bucky notices, of course, but Steve sucks it up and they begin to dance. "I am so so so sorry," Bucky says quietly in his ear. "I'll tell everyone if you want."

Steve shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. "I think we can fake it a little longer. It's fine."

He honestly doesn't know how anyone is believing this, because they're so awkward with each other now. There are fleeting moments, of course, where everything is normal. Sometimes Bucky looks at him and he thinks nothing has changed. But it's not enough, and he finds it ridiculous that they're passing for an actual couple. Sure, everyone knew they were dating before, but the tension between them is so obvious.

Just a few more hours. A few more hours, and then Steve can go home and sleep for approximately twelve hours.

***

Bucky

"Trouble in paradise?"

Bucky blinks at his cousin. "What?"

"You and Steve must be fighting or something, because you're both being super weird," Maria says.

"How are we being weird?"

"You aren't even touching each other," she replies. "I haven't seen you kiss once all day."

"Well, maybe we just don't like public displays of affection. They make people very uncomfortable."

"You grabbed his ass every chance you got at the Christmas party last year," she points out.

It's true. Steve kept swatting his hand away, because he didn't want Bucky's family to get the wrong impression, but they all just laughed, talking about how they were "young and in love" and then one of his aunts made a comment about Steve having a nice butt. That made Steve blush even more, much to Bucky's delight. "Yeah, I didn't want a repeat of that," he says to Maria now.

He catches sight of Steve holding Maria's two-year-old sister Sophie on his hip as he talks to Rebecca, both of them laughing hard at something. He doesn't even notices the smile that's spread across his face until Maria says, "Wow, guess I was wrong."

He pulls his gaze away, returning his attention to her. "Huh?"

"You're obviously just as smitten as ever. You better put a ring on it soon, Buck."

He swallows. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

She snorts. "It's you and Steve. We all know it's gonna happen eventually."

He forces a smile. "Right."

***

July 2015

"Speaking of, how is Steve?" his mom asked.

Bucky froze. "Uh, well, actually..."

"What?"

"We broke up," he admitted.

Three heads snapped up in unison, his mom pausing her fork in front of her mouth. Rebecca's jaw dropped. "He broke up with you?" Rebecca asked incredulously.

"No, I broke up with him."

He glanced between his sister and his parents, the three of them staring at him, shock plain on their faces. Rebecca spoke first. "Why the fuck did you do that?"

"Rebecca," his mom started.

"Can we not talk about it?" Bucky pleaded.

"No," Rebecca said flatly. The room felt very small then, as if the walls were caving in. Bucky knew he couldn't get out of this one. "You and Steve took like, ten years to get your shit together and you just threw that away?"

Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but his father interjected. "Weren't you talking about marriage a few months ago?" George asked. “You were very serious about that.”

Bucky inhaled sharply. "I was." It was true. He'd been asking his family what they thought when he came home for Easter, bouncing ideas off them on how to propose, telling them how he had been searching for rings, waiting until he found the perfect one for Steve. He knew he had their approval, knew that as far as people they wanted Bucky to end up with, Steve was number one. And he fucked that up.

Would things have been different if he and Steve had been engaged? It would've been much more difficult to break things off. It didn’t matter; he made his choice and whether it was a mistake or not, he had to live with it.

"Quickly changed your mind there," George said dryly.

Bucky bowed his head. "Look, I feel awful for hurting Steve." He briefly met his father's eyes before looking away. "But it's done, that's it."

"James, is this what you want?" his mom asked gently.

"Doubtful," Becca muttered.

"I don't really know," he said, spinning his pasta onto the fork. "But I can't really go back now, so." He shrugged and ignored the three sets of eyes studying him. They were worried, of course they were. All his friends thought he was insane and it didn't help that he wouldn't even explain to anyone why he did it.

So now he added his family to the list of people who couldn't understand what he'd done.

Sometimes, he felt like he belonged at the top of the list.

***

December 2015

"I just don't understand why you two broke up," his mom says without preamble.

"Ma, please. Wasn't the point of this whole thing to keep people from being nosy?"

"Yes, but I'm your mother." A beat. "Steve is a good man."

Bucky can't help but roll his eyes. "I know that. He's my best friend." He's not entirely sure he can say that anymore, which is the worst part about the whole situation.

She purses her lips for a moment, and then continues. "And he came here for Rebecca in spite of everything, even agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend in front of everyone else so you wouldn't have to dodge all their questions. Which I know you would. It's just incredibly selfless."

"I know," he says softly, eyes trained on the floor. "He always puts everyone else first."

"James," she says gently, "if you still have feelings for him, don't just push that aside."

Part of him thinks she's right, thinks he should march over to Steve and stick his tongue down his throat. Probably not the proper setting, but everyone thinks they're young and in love anyway. He wants to kiss Steve until they're both breathless, wants to hold him in his arms the way he has a thousand times before, the way he hasn't been able to in months.

But he can't. He tells his mother just that, and he can't take the way she's looking at him with sad eyes, so he walks away from her and back to his table where Steve is sitting and chatting with a couple of Rebecca's friends.

Just a little while longer of faking it, and then Steve can be free of this mess.

***

April 2015 - Steve

"Not that I care, but someone could walk in at any moment," Bucky said, trying to catch his breath.

"So?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "I thought that's something you usually care about."

"We're not doing anything wrong," Steve said easily. The two of them were in one of multiple spare bedrooms at Tony's house, while a party was going on below. It felt like they were two teenagers unable to help themselves from sneaking away to make out. As Steve led Bucky upstairs, he had said they were making up for the fact that they didn't get to be together when they were in high school.

"No, but you're practically giving me a lap dance right now." Steve blushed and Bucky grinned, eyes crinkling, and goddamn, that smile should have been illegal. "Huh. We'll definitely revisit that idea later."

"Jesus," Steve whispered before attaching his lips to Bucky's neck.

"You know, we could be doing this at home."

"Home?"

"Your home," Bucky corrected. "You know what I meant."

"You're my home," Steve told him, not even thinking about it. Steve briefly wondered if he should ask Bucky to move in with him. They'd lived together in college, but ultimately decided they wanted their own space after they graduated. Steve had worried that Bucky would get sick of him, but that was no longer a concern at all. Bucky would probably say yes. He would have to think on it more later, when he wasn't otherwise occupied.

Bucky smiled, soft and fond. "Sap."

"You love it."

"I do. Now let me take you home and have my way with you."

"Hmm, but isn't it kinda hot to think about getting caught in a compromising position?" Steve said lowly.

Bucky groaned. "You're gonna kill me, Rogers."

They were good at this. Riling each other up. Always finding new ways to drive the other crazy. Steve pressed his nose into Bucky's hair, his breath hot in Bucky's ear when he spoke. "Oh, you know I don't wanna do that."

"Course not, sweetheart. Just wanna torture me here." Steve grinned and Bucky added, "My boyfriend's an asshole."

"You sure do know how to sweet talk me, Buck."

Bucky's lips curled into a smirk. "I certainly try."

***

December 2015

Steve thinks back to that night, only a number of months before. They were so happy, so in love, so ridiculously into each other. And then one day, it was over. Just like that. He just doesn't understand.

He takes another gulp, not really sure what he's drinking. He knows he won't find any answers here, but it's worth a shot.

Ha.

Bucky would groan at the pun, but smile at Steve so fondly that it didn't matter how unfunny it was.

Not anymore though.

***

May 2014

“My arm is falling asleep,” Bucky grumbled.

“Do you want me to move?”

“Don't you dare.”

Steve smiled. “Whatever you want, Buck.”

“Such an accommodating boyfriend.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“Do you have to be sappy about every little thing?”

“Yes,” Steve said. He meant it.

He lifted his head off of Bucky's chest to look at his face. Bucky was smiling too. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I am. Happy, I mean. Deliriously happy.”

Steve's grin became impossibly wider. “Good.”

***

December 2015 - Bucky

Bucky is awakened by the shrill sound of his phone ringing. The digital clock next to his bed tells him it's just past 2 a.m. Who the fuck would be calling him right now?

With bleary eyes, he grabs his phone and sees himself and Steve smiling on the screen. He never changed the contact picture. He fumbles to answer. "Steve? Is everything okay?"

It's silent for a few seconds and Bucky opens his mouth to try again, and then he hears Steve's voice. “I gotta talk to you.”

“Now?” Bucky asks, still waking up.

“Didn't you love me?" Bucky's heart drops to his stomach. "Didn't you—I thought you did."

"Stevie, of course I—” Of course I do. "Of course I did."

"Then what happened? What did I do? Why couldn't we fix it?" Steve asks desperately. His words are slurring together and Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore the guilt eating away at him. "Why didn't you fight for us? Why didn't you fight for me?” Bucky doesn't have answers for any of his questions; sometimes he's not even sure his logic makes sense and he's sure anything he says will be lost on an intoxicated Steve. “I love you. I can't stop and I'm not sure I want to even though you don't love me back anymore. How fucked up is that? We were so happy. I thought you were happy. "

"Steve," he says softly.

"Why did you leave me? I never wanted you to leave me. Never...never thought you would."

"I—" I never wanted to leave you either, I still love you, I'll always love you, I'm sorry, I just want what's best for you. "You're drunk, you should get some rest."

"I can't stop thinking about you, Bucky." It's so quiet that Bucky almost doesn't hear it. He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "It's you all the time and you fuckin', you fuckin' broke my heart. Like it was nothing."

It wasn’t nothing. It took every bit of strength Bucky had to go through with the breakup in the first place. It took everything in him to hold back everything he felt all these months.

"Go to sleep, Stevie," he tries again, blinking back tears.

"Mmk," Steve mumbles. Bucky waits a few minutes until he hears Steve's soft snores on the other end before hanging up.

After that, Bucky doesn't sleep much.

***

November 2008 - Steve

Steve groaned. “I hate math.”

Bucky looked over his shoulder where Steve had his textbook and the assignment he was working on in front of him. “C'mon, Steve, you've only got five more problems. Well, actually, that one's wrong. And so is that.” Steve groaned louder. “Here, I'll help you.”

“What do I even need algebra for? I'm an art major.”

“You gonna sit here and complain or are you gonna let me help you?”

Steve pouted. “Please help me.”

“Okay, okay.”

Bucky slid onto the bed beside him so he was pressed right against Steve. Steve was all too aware of how easy it would be to turn and kiss him and push him into the mattress and—

He shook his head. Just because he found himself attracted to Bucky did not mean he should act on it. Even if Bucky wanted to, they were roommates; that was something that might work in the movies, but not in real life. It had the potential to ruin everything they had. And Steve just wasn't willing to risk it. He could hold back. He had to.

“You alright?”

“What? Yeah, sorry, just spaced out,” Steve said. He prayed his cheeks weren't red. The fact that he easily blushed always gave him away, letting Bucky know he was embarrassed by the smallest compliment, by the thoughts he had about Bucky sometimes...

It was amazing Bucky hadn't caught on. Or maybe he had. Maybe he didn't care. It wasn't like Steve had feelings for him; it was purely attraction, nothing more.

Steve met Bucky's eyes, and Bucky looked like he didn't believe him, but he didn't push it. “Alright, well, let's have a look.”

***

December 2015

Steve wakes with his head pounding and mouth dry, eyes squinting at the sunlight streaming through his window. "Ugh," he groans as he sits up in bed, feeling disoriented. He shouldn't have gone out when Sam convinced him to, or at least he shouldn't have had so much to drink. He vaguely remembers Sam practically dragging him into his apartment; he'll have to apologize later. His phone is on his pillow, he notices, and he hopes he didn't send any embarrassing texts.

He usually has a little more restraint when it comes to alcohol, but he rarely gets drunk so he figured he deserved to treat himself to a fun night out. Now he can't recall why he thought that was a good idea. He picks up his phone to see a few new texts. Two from Sam and one from...Bucky.

when you wake up let me know that you're not dead

He sees he didn't text Bucky last night when he scrolls up to their last conversation, and with a feeling of dread, he checks his recent calls. Sure enough, Bucky is on there, the call barely lasting five minutes, at 2:12 a.m.

He pieces the conversation together and a wave of nausea washes over him, his stomach lurching. He's out of bed and into the bathroom in seconds, heaving into the toilet.

Fuck.

As soon as he can, he gets up and crawls back into bed.

He replies to Sam, apologizing profusely for the previous night. He tells Bucky i'm ok, his thumb hovering over the send button. After debating a while whether he should say more, he sends it and shuts off his phone.

***

"I...I might've called Bucky after we went out the other night."

"Man, I didn't think you were even conscious enough for that."

“You mean after I cried to you, asking why he doesn't love me anymore, over and over?” Steve asks wryly. Sam snorts. "Yeah, well.”

"So what happened?"

"Just...asked him what went wrong, why he ended things. Nothing new. He wouldn't tell me, of course." He pauses. "I just feel so stupid, because he's moved on and I'm still—“

"Steve, you really think he's moved on?" Sam interrupts. "I mean, really."

"Well..."

"Go talk to him."

"I've tried," Steve insists.

"Try again."

"What are we talking about?" Tony asks as he enters the room.

"Nothing."

"Is it about Barnes and how insufferable you both are to be around right now?" Steve looks at his hands and that's answer enough.

"Tony," Sam warns.

Tony ignores him and directs Steve. "You know, I only say these things out of love."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

***

September 2008 - Bucky

"And that there is Orion." Bucky followed the shape Steve made with his fingers.

"Learnin' a lot from that fancy astronomy class, huh, Rogers?" he said, elbowing Steve's ribs.

Steve turned his head and smiled at Bucky, the back of his head resting against his left arm, while he pointed to constellations with his right.

“I would totally live on the moon,” Steve said later.

“Oh yeah? Think you'll get awful lonely up there by yourself,” Bucky replied.

“Well, obviously you would come with me.”

“You think so?”

“Your life would be incredibly dull here without me.”

“I don't know about that. Maybe I would love it if I never had to see your dumb face again,” Bucky said sarcastically.

“Good one, Buck.”

He grinned at Steve, getting a soft smile in return. If Steve wanted him to, Bucky absolutely would live on the moon with him. In all honesty, he thought, he would follow Steve anywhere.

***

December 2015 - Steve

"Ow, Tony, jeez, are you trying to pull my arm out of its socket?" Steve grumbles as they move through the house. Tony dragged Steve inside as soon as he got there, barely even taking a moment to shut the front door behind him. Tony ignores him and Steve huffs a sigh. "Are you at least gonna tell me why you needed me here in such a hurry?"

Steve got a text that just said come over ASAP and no response when he asked why, so here he is.

Steve's question gets answered when they reach the living room, where Bucky is sat on the couch with his legs crossed. He looks up when they enter, eyes widening. "Hi, Steve."

Steve's face grows hot. "Hi, Buck." Ever since his disastrous drunken phone call, he's been avoiding Bucky. Like. More than usual.

Behind him, Tony claps his hands together, shattering the moment. "Alright, I've gathered you both here today because frankly, we're all a little tired of the guessing games with the two of you. So—“

"What guessing games?" Bucky interrupts.

"Like, who's more stubborn: Rogers or Barnes? Which one can be the most miserable?" Bucky clears his throat, fidgeting in his seat. "Also I lost the bet with Sam and Nat that you'd be back together a week ago, and since I have no chance of getting anything out of it, I figure we all shouldn’t have to wait anymore."

"You what?" Steve chokes out.

"Yeah, it is probably a little immoral to bet on two people's happiness. Don't tell Pepper. She might kill me." Steve and Bucky both glare at Tony. "Look, it might ruin my reputation to say this, but I do actually want you both to be happy."

"We're fine," Bucky says.

"Really? Then why has Steve here refused to be in the same room as you the last four times we've hung out?"

Steve shuts his eyes, frustration building up. "Tony."

"I'm just trying to help," he says innocently. "I've been trying to help. Why do you think Sharon went after Steve at Nat's birthday party?"

Steve is watching Bucky now, who's studiously avoiding Steve's eyes, his face...ashamed. "You were actually jealous?" Steve asks.

Bucky huffs out a laugh, though the look on his face shows he doesn't find the situation all that humorous. "’Course I was."

"See?" Tony gestures at Bucky. "I was just trying to fix things because neither of you will do anything on your own, apparently. Both of you are stubborn as hell, I swear."

"You don't need to—I'm not the one who—“ He cuts off, seeing Bucky look down at his lap. "I'm not the one who ended things," he finishes quietly.

"I know that," Tony replies. "And I think Barnes getting his head out of his ass without a push would be a Christmas miracle. I should add that I also know why his dumb ass broke up with you and if he doesn't tell you, I think I might have to."

"Tony," Bucky hisses.

"You told Tony?" Steve says incredulously. Bucky gives him an apologetic look.

"You say that like I can't be trusted," Tony says, feigning hurt.

"You literally just threatened to tell him—" Bucky starts.

Steve cuts him off. "I think I have a right to know."

"I wholeheartedly agree," Tony says. "Looks like it's two against one, you gotta tell him, so I think I should just leave you two lovebirds alone for a bit."

"I can't do this," Bucky says.

Steve freezes. Bucky stands up and brushes past Tony and Steve, neither of them moving until they hear the door shut.

"I don't think it's actually my place to tell you," Tony tells him. "I just thought it might get him to take action."

Steve shakes his head. "I don't want you to be the one to tell me."

Tony puts his hand on Steve's shoulder. "You'll work it out."

***

November 2006 – Bucky

“I can't lose you. You're my best friend. You're—everything.” Bucky wiped his eyes with the hand not holding Steve's. “Please don't leave me, Stevie. You're strong, you've made it this far, you can make it through this. You have to make it through this. Please.”

“Bucky.”

He jumped at the voice behind him, pulling his hand away from Steve's. He turned to where Steve's mom was standing in the doorway and gave her an easy smile. “Hey, Mrs. Rogers.”

She came inside, shutting the door behind her. “He's going to be alright.” She sat down beside him, her eyes on the machine monitoring Steve's heart.

“But what if—“

“He's going to be alright,” she repeated firmly.

He knew she was trying to convince herself more than him. This wasn't the worst they'd ever seen Steve, but it was definitely up there. It started with just a cold; he was supposed to be able to sleep it off, not end up hospitalized. Life never seemed to work the way it should have for Steve and it was so goddamn unfair. Someone as wonderful as Steve shouldn't have had so many life threatening experiences, but here he was, just like so many times before.

Bucky nodded. “It's just scary.”

“I know how much you care for him.” She gave him a scrutinizing look that he wasn't quite sure how to respond to.

“I do,” Bucky said. She smiled tightly and patted his hand. “You're right. Stevie's tough.”

Her smile turned a little more genuine. “That he is.” She nudged him with her elbow. “It's late. You have school in the morning.”

He sighed, not wanting to face another day without Steve at his side. It wasn't as if he didn't have other friends, but they weren't Steve. “Right.” He stood up, reaching out to push Steve's hair back from his forehead. “I'll be back tomorrow, pal.”

He looked back at Mrs. Rogers, who was smiling fondly. “Get some rest, Bucky. I’m sure Steve won’t be very happy if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted, throwing a goodbye over his shoulder as he went.

“How's Steve?” his mom asked when he got home.

Bucky shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

She nodded. “And how are you?”

“I'm fine.” She raised an eyebrow, and that was all it took to get the truth out of him. “I'm scared shitless. What if I—” His voice broke. “What if I lose him?”

She immediately pulled him into her arms and he buried his face in her neck, letting the tears fall. She rubbed circles into his back as she whispered soothing words. “He'll pull through this.”

“He's my best friend. I don't think he knows...”

He let go, wiping his eyes. She kindly pretended not to notice. “He knows he's your best friend.”

“I know, but I don't think he knows how much I care about him. I just—nothing would be the same without him. Nothing would be right without him.” She nodded wordlessly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “Christ, I sound ridiculous.”

“You don't, sweetheart. And I know you're just as important to Steve as he is to you. He thinks the world of you, you know.” Bucky nodded. “You should get some rest.

“I'll try.” He paused halfway down the hallway. “Ma. Thank you.”

“Goodnight, James.”

“Night,” he called back. He trudged up the stairs to his room, and only stopped to take off his Converse and set an alarm before falling into bed.

***

December 2015 – Steve

Everybody comes over to Steve's for a small pre-Christmas gathering, one week before Christmas. They're all going home to their families or spending the holidays with their significant others, and since Steve has neither – not that they would ever say that's the reason – they all bring food and exchange gifts. Sam calls it Friendsmas and Natasha rolls her eyes at the terrible name.

Steve used to love Christmas, decorating the house with his ma, baking cookies, sitting by the fire and drinking hot chocolate.

It hasn't been the same since she died; the first year was the worst though. Bucky invited him to spend Christmas with his family upstate, and it was a nice offer, it was. But Steve knew he couldn't be around them. Not when he'd just lost the only family he had.

So Bucky stayed with him, despite Steve's insistence that he should be with his own family, because he certainly didn't see them as often as he would've liked. But Bucky was stubborn and refused to leave Steve alone, saying his family understood. Steve didn't doubt that, as Bucky's family was just that wonderful, but he still felt terrible about it.

Steve spent most of the day crying, every little thing, every reminder of his mom setting him off. Bucky comforted him and cooked them a turkey and bought Steve a chocolate cupcake, Steve insisting they split it while they watched documentaries about space in Steve's living room. He gave Steve fancy paintbrushes that he'd had his eyes on for a while, but never shelled out the money for, and Steve cried again, because Bucky was just too good for him.

For the next two years, they'd gone to Bucky's parents' house, and last year was their first and only Christmas as a couple, and Bucky held his hand and took him outside to walk in the snow when he knew Steve needed a breather.

This year, he doesn't know what he'll do. He has three days off work, Christmas right in the middle, and all his friends will be gone. Winifred hinted at it when he was at Rebecca's wedding, but he can't go. Even if Bucky's extended family knows about the breakup by now – which is doubtful, because it's only been a couple weeks since the wedding – Christmas is hard enough, as it is.

If he's being honest with himself, he'll probably be in bed all day and eat cookie dough while watching Netflix. That’s good enough for him. He’s on the second season of House of Cards, so he’ll probably be finished with the series by the time the holidays are over.

Throughout the night, Bucky keeps sending him apologetic looks, probably still feeling guilty about what happened at Tony's and all the things Steve said during his drunken phone call. He's sure everyone notices, but they're kind enough to ignore it, the way they mostly have for the last six months, probably chalking it up to the same old behavior.

Tony brought mistletoe and put it in the doorway to the kitchen, and Steve avoids it at all costs, because he has a feeling that Tony brought it to meddle even more, not just to have an excuse to kiss Pepper as much as possible, like he claims. Natasha kisses Sam underneath it at some point, which turns Sam into a stuttering mess. Steve and Bucky share a grin, both of them delighted, and something in Steve's chest loosens. They all tease Sam when Natasha goes outside for a work call and Sam declares his friendship with them over.

It's a nice night, all things considered.

But Steve's feeling a little off, and he's not sure why. He's only had one beer and he's obsessive about staying hydrated, but he still feels lightheaded, something that was pretty common for him a decade ago, but not so much now. He excuses himself to the kitchen to get a glass of water anyway.

He's at the sink when Bucky appears, leaning against the door frame, the mistletoe above him especially conspicuous now. Steve prays he doesn't stay there until Steve has to go back through, because even the implication of the two of them kissing is too much. Kissing is high on the list of things Steve misses. “So I got you something.”

“You already gave me a present,” Steve says.

“Well, I got you something else.”

Steve wonders if Bucky is trying to make up for things or if he's just being extra nice for the hell of it. Steve downs the entire glass of water, still feeling faint. “Well, hand it over, Barnes.” He turns back to refill his glass, and suddenly just standing there seems like a great deal of effort. Bucky says something that Steve misses as he steps into the kitchen.

The glass slips from Steve's grasp, clattering loudly when it falls into the sink. “Steve, you alright? What's wrong?” He feels Bucky's hand on his shoulder. Warm. Steady. The hand doesn't stop the black spots that start encroaching on his vision. Fuck, Steve is so tired. There's an edge to Bucky's voice that he recognizes, but he doesn't get a chance to figure out why before everything goes dark.

***

Steve comes to, finding himself in the middle of his bed, propped up by several pillows, and feeling very disoriented. “Hey, man.” Sam.

“Did I—“

“Yeah, you passed out. It's only been a few minutes though, think you're okay. Here.”

Sam hands him a plastic cup and Steve sips water through the straw. “Thanks. Is everyone still here?” The door is open, but he doesn't hear any noise.

“Of course. I just figured you didn't wanna be crowded right now.” Steve nods. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Your boy was freaked out,” Sam murmurs.

Steve blinks, still catching up with reality. “What?”

“Bucky.”

“He's not my boy,” Steve says.

Sam rolls his eyes. “He is. And he panicked, thinking you were gonna die or something. I swear I've never seen someone go so quickly from panic mode to rescue mode.”

“I'm fine. Does he know I'm fine?”

“He knows, but I think he needs to see it for himself. It's understandable; he saw you sick a lot.”

“So he should be used to it,” Steve replies.

“He's spent a lot of his life worried you wouldn't make it to your next birthday.” It's not Sam that speaks this time, but Bucky, standing in the doorway.

“You're so dramatic. I'm fine,” Steve grumbles.

“If I had a dime...” He drifts off as he makes his way into the bedroom.

“Surprised Nat was actually able to drag you from his bedside, Barnes,” Sam says casually.

Bucky glares. “You know how she is.”

Sam chuckles. “That I do.”

Steve can't help the warm feeling that spreads through him at the fact that Bucky wanted to stay with him so much that he had to be pulled away. He knows Bucky still cares, but it's easy for him to lose that feeling since they broke up.

Steve hates being babied, having people worry over him, and Bucky knows that, but it does make sense for Bucky to worry about him. And it's kind of nice. Not that he would admit that. Steve smiles wanly up at Bucky. “Thanks for the concern, Buck. But I'm alright.”

“You passed out,” Bucky snaps.

Steve shrugs. “It's happened before.” To be fair, it hasn't happened recently, but he doesn't want to give them the satisfaction and admit that this isn't exactly normal.

“It shouldn't,” Bucky replies.

“Yeah, do you know why it happened?” Sam asks. “You been feelin' alright recently?”

“I dunno, I haven't slept much lately,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “That might be a contributing factor.”

Bucky sighs heavily. “You gotta take care of yourself.”

“I do,” Steve insists.

The thing is, Bucky has always looked after Steve. He reminded Steve to take his meds, even though he never would've forgotten. He made sure Steve ate, because sometimes he would forget a meal, especially when his mind was elsewhere. He chased away the recurring nightmares Steve has gotten since his mother passed away.

Steve can take care of himself, but that doesn't change the fact that he's used to Bucky being there to help him along.

His nightmares had become less frequent for a while, but increased since the anniversary of Sarah's death, and Bucky isn't around to help him get back to sleep. And it's hard to fall asleep in the first place when he knows the nightmares may come and it's hard to fall asleep in the first place when he's all alone in a cold bed, the other side markedly empty.

It's not all that surprising his lack of sleep finally caught up to him.

So Steve does his best, but there are some things he can't control.

“Are you having trouble falling asleep or staying asleep?” Sam asks.

Steve won't look at either of them. “Both.”

“Anything in particular causing this? Something weighing on your mind?”

Steve shrugs, picking under his thumbnail. He could think of more than a few things weighing on his mind, but in this case, there is definitely a specific cause to his lack of sleep. “Bad dreams.”

“About what?” Bucky interrupts.

Sam shoots him a sharp look that doesn't go unnoticed by Steve. Sam loves Bucky, but Steve knows that impartial as he tries to be, Sam is on Steve's side. And Sam being on Steve's side means he thinks Bucky shouldn't pry.

Steve has half a mind to tell Bucky to mind his own business, but he holds his tongue. “My mom,” Steve says quietly.

“Stevie,” Bucky says softly. Steve knows he remembers the way Steve would wake up crying, the way he clung to Bucky afterwards. And Bucky let him, doing all he could to soothe Steve until he fell back asleep.

Steve shakes his head, feeling two pairs of worried eyes on him. “I'll be fine.”

“Steve,” Sam starts.

“Can we please not talk about this?” Steve asks. Just because Sam is getting his master's degree in psychology doesn't mean he wants Sam to use some sort of Freudian crap on Steve or whatever.

Sam shares a look with Bucky and sighs. “Okay, we'll let you get some rest. I'll clear everyone out of here and I'll check on you later.” Steve nods and thanks him again. Bucky doesn't say anything, just gives Steve a little wave before following Sam out the door.

Steve curls up on his side, pulling his comforter tighter around himself.

He thinks he would sleep for a week straight if he could. Maybe his three days off next week will suffice. At least he won't have to face Bucky while he's visiting his family; that'll be a nice reprieve. Steve hates thinking that way, but it's true. Being around Bucky is really taxing sometimes. Maybe his New Year's resolution will be to let Bucky go. Not stop loving him. Never stop loving him. He can't, he knows that. He's mostly accepted that. But he can try to move on with his life.

Of course, Steve has never really thought New Year's resolutions really work. If he could be over the breakup that quickly, he would be by now.

He drifts off for a bit, later awoken by voices outside his bedroom door. The blue light on the digital clock says 10:28.

“I just wanna check on him.”

“Bucky.”

“Sam.”

“I know you care about him. We all know that. It's okay that you stayed, but I'm not sure having his ex-boyfriend hover is gonna help him right now.” Sam is a very good friend, Steve thinks.

“I'm not hovering, I just—I can worry, can't I?”

“Yeah, but it's probably best if you do it from a distance. Steve is clearly stressed out enough as it is and I don't want it to get worse.”

“He's asleep,” Bucky says insistently. “He won't even know I'm there.”

A beat. “Fine.”

Steve hears the knob turning and he closed his eyes again, trying to regulate his breathing as Bucky slips inside. He's not even sure why he feigns sleep, maybe to keep Bucky from pestering him about being awake when he should be resting. Maybe to avoid yet another awkward interaction.

Footsteps make their way across the room and Steve feels the bed dip under Bucky's weight as he sits beside Steve. “Hey Stevie,” Bucky whispers. “It's been a while since I've done this, been at your bedside like this. Heh, I remember one of the times it was really bad in high school, I think we were sixteen, and I just about lost it. I started spouting all this shit about how I needed you to get better, how you couldn't leave me. Your ma heard me and I think...I think she knew back then how I felt about you, years before I did.”

Steve doesn't know how to handle this, knows he shouldn't keep pretending he's asleep, but he's too desperate to hear whatever it is that Bucky has to say, because this is probably the most he's opened up to Steve in months. “I'm sorry for everything I've done. You deserve better and I don't wanna keep hurting you. I just...I want you to be okay. I need you to be okay. You're my best friend, even if you hate me.”

He hears Bucky let out a shaky breath. “Um, so, I said I got you something, so I'm just gonna leave it next to you and you can open it when you wake up, I guess. I think you’ll like it.” He hears the sound of something being set on his bedside table.

Several moments pass and Bucky isn't saying anything more, and Steve wonders how the hell he's pulling this off. Steve is a terrible actor, a terrible liar, and yet Bucky is likely clueless that Steve has heard everything he just said.

Steve just prefers to be honest with people, unless he absolutely has to lie. This is not one of those moments where lying is a necessity, so he still doesn't know why he's doing it. It's too late to go back now. Maybe he could pretend to wake up? No. Bucky would surely be able to tell that it's fake.

Steve isn't expecting it when he feels fingers gently brush his hair off his forehead and it takes everything in him not to visibly react. He doesn't know how long it lasts; mere seconds probably, but it feels like hours. Then the hand pulls away and the door shuts a moment later and Steve opens his eyes, relishing in the ghost of Bucky's hand on his face. It's been a long time since Bucky touched him like that.

Bucky just spilled his guts and he never would've said any of that if Steve hadn't pretended to be asleep, and he feels like he heard something he shouldn't have. There's definitely a bit of guilt setting in the pit of his stomach.

He should let it go, think of Bucky's words as meaning nothing, but he can't. Maybe once he's better, he'll go to Bucky and they'll talk things through, once and for all.

Now he looks over and sees the tiny rectangular box on the table, perfectly wrapped. He grabs it and shakes it, trying to guess what's inside. Nothing. He could wait till morning, but curiosity gets the better of him.

Steve rips open the paper and pulls off the lid and...it's a plane ticket. To Dublin. Round-trip. Not until June, but...fuck. Steve used to talk all the time about wanting to go to Ireland, wanting to see where his mom was from, even though she herself didn’t remember much about it. They'd talked about going after he finished college, but then she got sick and it never happened.

Once, when Steve mentioned it, Bucky said he would go with Steve someday, if Steve wanted him to. Of course he said yes. How could his answer have been anything else? That never happened either.

Bucky did this for him. Gave him something he knew Steve always wanted.

He thinks of his ma, of her looking down at him.

He thinks that in spite of the things he can't have, he has the best thing that he can.

***

Bucky

This was a mistake. Fuck.

Bucky turns to leave and as soon as he does, he hears a confused voice behind him. "Bucky?"

He takes a few seconds to compose himself before facing him. "Hey, Steve."

"What are you doing here?" Steve asks. "Not that—not that I don't want you here or anything," he adds quickly. "I'm just...you were about to leave."

"I didn't wanna bother you," Bucky says sheepishly. "You're working, I was bein' stupid."

"Hey, no, it's fine. Is something wrong?" Steve is looking at him with his stupid worried eyes and Bucky hates it. He doesn't deserve to have Steve still care about him as much as he does. He fucked up beyond reason and Steve is still here, still being a good goddamn friend. "Bucky?" Steve reaches out, placing a gentle hand on Bucky's arm.

Bucky flinches and Steve pulls his hand back like he's been burned. Christ. How is he supposed to fix things with Steve when he keeps pulling away? How is he supposed to fix things when all he does is hurt Steve over and over? "I'm sorry," Bucky mumbles.

Steve shakes his head. "What are you doing here?" he asks again, more quietly this time. Bucky shifts uncomfortably, glancing at all the people milling around the room. It's too crowded for his liking; he enjoys working in an environment with few other people around to bother him. Steve takes notice of his unease and says, "Give me a sec." He walks over to his desk to grab his coat off the back off his chair and gestures to the door. "C'mon."

Bucky doesn't respond, just follows Steve to the staircase. “I wasn't sure if you'd be at work today,” Bucky says as they climb upstairs.

“Yeah, I mean, I can rest during the holiday and I slept virtually the entire weekend, so.” A beat. “Anyway, they’ll be fine without me down there. I’m glad you came.” Bucky resolutely does not look at him.

They make it up to the roof, Steve stopping to prop the door open with a brick. "You planning to push me off?" he jokes, looking out over the city.

He glances back to see Steve roll his eyes. "It's quiet up here. Figure that's ideal if you wanna talk or whatever."

The wind is strong, freezing air around them, and Steve is blowing air onto his hands to keep warm. And all Bucky wants to do is take him inside and give him hot chocolate and wrap his arms around him until he's not cold anymore. Because Bucky is a disgusting cliché romantic movie apparently.

Doing that is not an option. "You'll catch your death out here."

Steve laughs and it's the most beautiful sound Bucky's ever heard, even after twenty years. He swears Steve is like pure sunshine and all that shit every time he smiles. "Okay, mom," he says sarcastically.

"I still worry about you, you know." Sure, Steve's immune system has improved since they were young, but Bucky hasn't forgotten the panic he felt at every hospital stay, the way all the machines and tubes made Steve look even smaller than he was. Especially since the other night.

"You don't have to."

Bucky shrugs. "Doesn't stop me."

"Does anything stop you from doing what you want?" It's meant as a joke, Bucky knows, but the words still come pouring out.

"Stevie, I—" He swallows thickly. "I'm sorry. I'm real sorry, I messed everything up, I—I've been such an asshole." Steve opens his mouth to protest, Bucky can tell – he knows every single one of Steve's expressions like the back of his hand, especially the one when he disagrees with someone – but he continues. "And you...you're still so nice to me in spite of it. God, you're my best friend.”

“You said that the other night.”

Bucky blinks, staring at Steve in confusion. “What?”

“I...heard you when you came into my room.”

Bucky's eyes widen. “I thought you were asleep.” Steve appears sheepish. “Shit. I'm sorry, I probably seem like such a creep.” He was so afraid that night, watching Steve fall. Memories of hospital beds and beeping machines and oxygen masks came flooding back and he's spent a good portion of his life worried he would lose Steve and seeing him lying there brought back that horrified feeling. And he might lose Steve in a different way now when he finally tells the truth.

Steve shakes his head. “Nah. It was sweet.”

“Sweet,” Bucky repeats.

“As was the gift. I—you bought me a first-class ticket to Ireland. Ireland. You know how much that means to me, you...god. Thank you.”

Bucky can't help but smile at that. “I just want you to be happy. And if the date doesn't work, I can always take care of it.”

“The date's perfect.”

“Good.” Steve smiles at him and he almost forgets why he's here, almost forgets that Steve isn't going to be looking at him like that by the time he finishes.

“Bucky? Would you have said those things if you thought I was awake?”

“No,” Bucky says honestly. “But I meant it. All of it. You gotta know what you mean to me, Stevie. I'm a goddamn idiot and I've known that every second of the last six months, but I couldn't tell you. No matter how many times you asked or how many times Natasha looked at me the way she does or how many times Tony tried to meddle. Which. Well. I shouldn't have run out on you the other day."

Steve nods. "Why did you?" His voice is soft, non-accusing.

"I was afraid. I've wanted to tell you for months how badly I miss you."

"Bucky—“

"Y'know, sometimes I wake up and my sleep-addled brain forgets you won't be there and I wear your sweater to sleep every fuckin' night and I cried when I realized it didn't smell like you anymore. Jane had to take over one of my projects at work because I stayed home for three days straight after we broke up." It's true. He wallowed in self-pity until Natasha literally dragged him out of bed. "One time at Tony's I overheard you talking about someone asking you out and I literally hid in the bathroom until I could breathe again, which is so unfair because you're not mine to lose anymore, but it still feels like it. I wanted you to move on, but at the same time I didn't, because I'm that fuckin' selfish."

"Bucky stop," Steve pleads.

"I'm just saying that even if it seems like I haven't been completely miserable without you, that's not true. I—I don't want you to think I've ever not loved you and I'm sorry if you did. Because I do, I love you so much.”

Steve starts towards him and Bucky recognizes the fact that Steve intends to kiss him. Bucky puts a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. He sees a flash of hurt across Steve's face. “I—“

“Steve, just. I need to explain. It wouldn't be fair because you're not gonna wanna kiss me after I do.” Steve opens his mouth, but Bucky cuts him off before he can say a word. “Keeping what's been going on from you has been killing me. I thought I could keep the secret, but I can't anymore. That's why I came here. To explain. I mean, I was gonna take you to lunch, but...you sure this is okay? I've just been babbling on and on and I don't wanna tear you away from your work." Kind of the point of this whole thing, he thinks wryly. Not tearing Steve away from work.

"It's no problem," Steve says softly. “And I guarantee I won’t be able to focus anyway if you leave now.”

"Okay. Look, you're right, you've been right this whole time, you deserve to know why. I mean, you might hate me more than you already do, but—“

"I don't hate you.”

"Probably should," Bucky mutters.

"Well, I don't and I'm not going to. Also, you're stalling," he remarks. That’s probably true, and he doesn’t want to stall anymore. He’s done it long enough. Steve says he won't hate Bucky no matter what and Bucky desperately wants it to be true. He's just not sure it'll remain that way once he explains himself.

"Steve, you gotta understand, I was doing what's best for you."

Steve furrows his brows, taking a step closer. "And why exactly would I be better off without you?"

"You didn't take the art fellowship," Bucky blurts out.

There it is.

All the months of hiding, all this time spent avoiding this confession. The truth is finally out, and he feels like he can breathe just a little easier with that fact.

He lets the words sink in, Steve staring at him utterly nonplussed. "I didn't want it."

"You had to have wanted it at least a little bit, Stevie."

"Okay, yeah, maybe I did, but I didn't even consider taking it when I found out. I wanted to be here more."

"Exactly!" Bucky exclaims.

"Exactly what?"

"You didn't take this amazing opportunity that could change your life because of me. I'm not—“

"I swear to god, if you say you're not worth it, Bucky..." Bucky bites his lip, unsure of how to respond. "You're everything. You've always been everything."

"I just didn't want to hold you back."

Steve is quiet for a moment. "You're not the only thing keeping me here, Buck. Brooklyn is home." A beat, then he adds with a wry smile, "Though I think I'd be at home anywhere as long as it's with you."

"Steve..."

"I like my life. Even when I had a shitty temp job to pay the bills when art commissions weren't enough, which they never are. Even when I still have to pay off student loans. Even when I'm dead on my feet at the end of the week and I think I could sleep the whole weekend. Because I have my art, I have my friends, I have you." He clears his throat. "Had you."

"You still have me,” Bucky says.

"You should've talked to me."

"I didn't think you would listen to reason."

"I don't think I would have either." Bucky is surprised at the easy agreement, but then Steve continues. "But that doesn't mean you should've made that decision for me."

"I know. I know that too. I should've told you months ago. I shouldn't have broken up with you like that. I lied to you and I wish I hadn't done it. I wish I had stayed. I wish I never hurt you. I never want to hurt you, because I love you so much." Bucky swallows thickly. "I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so fuckin' sorry. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you if you'll let me.

Steve is smiling, but he also looks near tears somehow. Bucky is definitely mirroring him on the latter. "I forgive you. Do you forgive me?"

Bucky stares. "For what?"

"I've been unfair to you these last few months. I should've been more understanding, I shouldn't have pushed you to tell me."

"Well, I'm not sure I would've told you if you hadn't."

"I think you would have," Steve says confidently.

"Why?"

"Because you're you."

"That's not an answer, Stevie."

"You would've told me," he says slowly, moving into Bucky's space, "because you love me. And I love you."

Bucky heaves a sigh of relief. "Does that mean—are we—"

"Just kiss me, you jerk."

Bucky grins. "Punk," he says fondly before complying.

"Please don't leave again," Steve murmurs against his lips.

"I'm not goin' anywhere," he promises. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

They stand there for a few minutes, arms wrapped around each other. Steve pulls back, only to rest his forehead against Bucky's. “Y'know, I might want some company on my trip this summer.”

Bucky grins. “That can be arranged.”

Steve reminds him of his job, so they return downstairs, Bucky keeping as close to him as possible. They stand at Steve’s desk for a moment, and Bucky knows he should go and leave Steve to his work, but he doesn’t want to go anywhere.

A brunette woman makes her way over to them and nods at Bucky. “Who's this guy?”

“This is my boyfriend, Bucky. Bucky, this is my boss, Maria.”

She smiles warmly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” He wraps an arm around Steve’s waist. “So Maria, we just got back together after months of me being a fool, and well, I was hoping Stevie here could take the rest of the day off.” Bucky flashes her his most charming smile and Steve elbows him in the side.

“Bucky!” Steve hisses. “I think you can handle waiting to see me until later.”

Bucky pretends to consider. “Mm, I don't think so.”

Maria waves a hand at that. “No, go ahead, Steve. It's the holidays, after all.”

“Exactly,” Bucky says.

“Are you sure?” Steve asks.

“Positive.”

Steve thanks her profusely and gathers his things together, before turning back to Bucky. “You drive here?” Steve asks. Bucky nods. “Take me home.”

Bucky presses his face into Steve's hair. “I'm already home.”

***

Steve

“Nice hickey,” Natasha remarks, one eyebrow raised. Steve's hand jumps to cover the side of his neck, feeling himself start to blush. “But if it's from anybody besides Bucky, I swear...”

Steve can't help the smile that takes over his face. “Whatever you're about to threaten, you don't have to follow through.”

Natasha grins. “Good. I'm very happy for you, Steve.”

“I'm very happy for me too.”

“Guess you had a lot of fun making up last night,” she says casually.

“You know some people have boundaries. Respect people's privacy, you know.”

“Huh. Sounds boring.”

Steve laughs a little. “Well, all I'll say is that absolutely everything is amazing right now.”

“Come on, Rogers. I want details. This was last night, right? Because I know you would've told me if anything happened any sooner.”

Steve nods. “Yesterday afternoon, last night.” A beat. “This morning.”

Natasha looks delighted. “Had to make up for lost time, huh?”

“Yeah, we did.”

“Where is he anyway? I'm surprised he would leave your side for even a moment.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “He had to finish packing to go to his parents' tomorrow.”

“You're gonna go with him, right?”

“Yeah. Believe me, even just being apart the last few hours has been awful.”

Natasha fake pouts. “Poor baby.”

“Mock all you want, it won't get me today.”

She smiles. “I think I can deal with my mocking being ineffective if it means you're happy.”

“I am. Ridiculously happy.”

***

“I didn't get a chance to tell my folks you were coming,” Bucky says, glancing at Steve and quickly looking away, because he knows Steve will admonish him for not keeping his eyes on the road.

“So they don't have a clue we're...”

“Nope.”

“I can't wait to see the look on your mom's face when she finds out.”

It's even better than Steve could've hoped when they walk inside the house, holding hands, and Winifred walks into the foyer, staring at them with wide eyes. “Steve!”

She wraps her arms around him and he lets go of Bucky's hand to return the hug in full. “I'm so glad my son finally got his head out of his ass.”

“You're not as quiet as you think,” Bucky says from beside them.

Winifred pulls away and grins. “I'm not trying to be, James.” Bucky rolls his eyes and pulls her in for a hug, both of them holding tight for several moments.  “I'm very happy you two worked things out.” She steps back and Steve catches her wiping her eyes.

He looks back at Bucky, who meets his gaze and smiles. “So are we, Ma.”

“Come on in, everyone’s going to be so excited to see you!”

“Give us a moment,” Bucky tells her. She nods and goes back the way she came, probably off to share the good news with her husband. “Have I mentioned that I love you recently?”

Steve nods. “At least three hundred twelve times since Monday.”

“Is that an exact number?”

“I think so,” Steve says. “I love you too, by the way.”

He presses a light kiss to Bucky’s temple, feeling him practically melt against Steve. “Thank you for coming with me. I know it’s hard for you.”

Steve shakes his head. “Nothing’s quite so bad when you’re there.”

He means that with his whole heart.

Bucky reaches out to lace their fingers together. “It’s mutual.” A beat. “I love you so much,” he says again.

Steve grins. “Three hundred thirteen.”