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-1-
Bucky loved holding Steve's hand. It was like gripping the tail of a comet and being pulled through a bright blue sky. Whenever Bucky was scared or angry, he would reach out and press his palms against Steve's. Despite Steve's small size, his hands were large and they enveloped Bucky's fingers. It always, without exception or doubt, made Bucky feel safer.
When they were small, their mothers would see them holding hands and coo over how adorable it was, what good friends they were. Bucky was never afraid of holding Steve's hand. He didn't think he would ever have a reason to be.
But, they didn't stop holding hands as they got older. When Bucky was twelve, his mother sat him down on the couch and hovered over him in her long summer dress.
“Bucky, I need to talk to you. It's important and I want you to pay attention.” She said.
He looked up at her. His cheeks were still rounded, his lips still plush, since puberty had not yet whittled him down in to the shape of a man. His mother could still make out the face that used to cry at her breast. She could almost hear the echoes of his babbling as a toddler. But those sights and sounds were fading now. He was growing up. Soon, he'd have sharp cheek bones and a rough face and she had to make sure he was ready for what the world expected from a face like that.
“You have to stop holding Steve's hand,” She said steadily, and reminded herself that this was for his own good. Better to stop this habit now before it got him in trouble. She only ever wanted the best for her son.
Bucky frowned, “Why?”
She sighed heavily and flopped on to the coffee table so she could be at eye level with her son, “Because... you're getting older now and people will start to get the wrong idea.”
“What wrong idea?”
“That you and Steve are more than friends.”
Bucky smiled. God, his mother thought, he was so tragically innocent.
“We are more than friends,” Bucky explained. “We're best friends.”
“No, Bucky, I mean... people will think that you and Steve are... in love.”
“I do love Steve,” Bucky laughed.
“NO!” She snapped, banging her small hands against her legs. Bucky jumped at the sudden movement. His mother ignored him, “Bucky, you have to listen to me. I'm only trying to keep you safe. You must stop this! You have to stop this right now. You and Steve... you're not like that. You can't be. You're a good boy. You're not... you can't be...”
Bucky looked shocked. It was such a heart-breaking face for his mother to see. As she spoke, she was forced to watch Bucky's innocence slip out of his expression. She wished that she could stop it but she couldn't. She mustn't. It was better for him to lose it now then to lose it at the hands of ugly fists and uglier words.
“I don't understand,” Bucky said. “I love Steve. I do. He's my best friend. Holding his hand makes me happy. Why is that a bad thing? I love-,”
She slapped him. His face fell to the side. He looked so shocked at his mother's sudden violence that she worried that he was going to burst into tears. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him.
“You're not listening to me!” She screamed. “I'm only trying to keep you safe! It's wrong! If you keep doing this then you're only going to make life difficult for yourself and I love you too much to let you do that!”
Bucky's face crumpled and he burst into tears. His mother gathered him up into her arms and pressed him against her chest.
“I'm sorry,” she breathed. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you. I'm so sorry.”
Bucky sobbed into her chest, gripping the back folds of her dress tightly. He cried until he wiped himself out and fell asleep, exhausted, on the couch.
He never held Steve's hand again. He never told Steve that he loved him again. It was because of what his mother said that he grew scared of holding Steve's hand. Something that had once guaranteed a sense of safety was now blemished with anxiety and fear. He wanted to do it, but he couldn't.
Losing that safety net made him look for it in other places. It was because of this that he kissed Maggie Whitman behind the school library when it should have been Steve. It was because of this this that he lost his virginity at sixteen to an older woman when it should have been Steve. At seventeen, he crawled into Steve's bed one night when he was drunk and fumbled for his hand. When their fingers intertwined, Bucky let out a breath he hadn't realized that he had been holding for five years.
“Bucky, are you okay?” Steve mumbled.
“'m fine,” Bucky slurred.
Steve twisted around in Bucky's grip so he could face him, “You're drunk.”
“Yeah, and you're beautiful,” Bucky said and brought Steve's knuckles to his lips.
“Buck...” Steve whispered.
“I love you so much, Steve. I'm sorry that I didn't say it before, when I should have. I'm sorry that I'm saying it now, when I'm drunk but I love you, Stevie. Really, I do. I love you so much.”
Steve shifted closer to him, “You're drunk, Buck. You won't remember this in the morning.”
“Then remind me, Steve. Don't let me forget. I don't want to forget.”
“I won't let you forget” Steve promised softly as Bucky pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips.
The next morning, Bucky woke up to a flurry of hesitant kisses and he had never been happier in his life.
-2-
Being in love with Steve was the easiest decision that Bucky had ever had to make. It was like a breath of fresh air. He wished that they didn't have to hide but he'd rather have Steve in secret than not have him at all.
He would go out on dates. He'd purposely let himself be caught kissing different girls. Steve and Bucky developed a strange relationship, built on something stronger than simply sexual intimacy. Bucky did what he had to do to keep their secret safe and it was the deepest act of love he knew how to express.
And it was working fine until Bucky met Bonnie.
Bonnie was smart. She sensed the slight hesitance in his kiss and it infuriated her. Bonnie thought of herself as attractive, so why couldn't she sense the lust beneath Bucky's skin. She trailed her fingers down his front and press her palm against his cock.
Bucky jerked away.
She looked at him with wide, wondering eyes and tilted her head to the side, “What's wrong?”
“I-,” Bucky started. His mouth was dry.
“What's going on, Buck?” She asked. “One second you're hot the next you're as cold as ice.”
She leaned closer to him, so close that her lipstick came off on his cheek when she whispered in his ear, “Don't you want me?”
Bucky stepped back. He'd never had to go beyond kissing a girl before and he wasn't sure if he could do it. Sure, dames were pretty. They got him hard and sure, Steve would probably understand why he had done it- just like he understood before- but Bucky just couldn't do it.
He opened his mouth and his silver tongue almost failed him.
“I wouldn't want to take advantage of a pretty dame like you,” He grinned even though his intestines withered like eels.
“You think you'd be the first man to try?” She smirked. “Come on. Live a little.”
She slammed him against the wall. The breath went out of Bucky before he could gasp.
“Look at me, Buck,” she said and pressed herself against him. “I'm literally throwing myself at you. I'm not being a lady. This is no time to be a gentlemen.”
She kissed me, passionately. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away.
“No,” he said, looking at her directly in the eye. “I don't want to do this with you.”
She stepped back. She looked horrified at the mere thought that someone would reject her.
“You're a fucking idiot, James Barnes,” She yelled at him as she gathered her things and stormed off.
Bucky merely shrugged, “You're not wrong.”
He thought that was the end of it and walked home with a spring in his step, unaware the Bonnie was following him, unaware that she watched him through the window when he kissed Steve hello. Bucky remained blissfully ignorant until he visited his parents the next day.
He opened the door and called out, “Hey mom, hey-,”
Stopping suddenly, he stumbled on his own feet when he saw Bonnie sitting on the couch with his parents. She didn't smile at him. None of them did.
He froze, “What's going on?”
His mother abruptly burst into tears. She sobbed into her hands.
“I should have known,” She wailed pathetically. “I should have tried harder to stop you.”
Bucky stepped forward but was stopped by his father's glare.
“You're a disgrace to this family, boy,” he spat out the word 'boy' like the mere mention of Bucky as his son disgusted him.
Bucky stepped back. He looked around hurt and confused.
“I don't understand. What's going on?” He asked, although he already knew. It was something he had feared would happen since the first time he had climbed into Steve's bed.
“You know exactly what you've done,” his father yelled. He had always been such a violent man.
Bucky shuddered. He looked at his mother, “Ma, please. Look at me. It's not what you think-,”
“Get out of my damn house, you dirty rotten queer!”
“I'm still Bucky. I swear. I'm still your son-,”
“DON'T YOU DARE!” His mother screamed. She stood up and marched towards him. “I raised a sweet boy. I didn't raise a... a...”
“A what, ma? A fairy? A queer,” Bucky bit his bottom lip and threw caution to the wind. “I'm not some dirty pervert, ma. I love Steve. You know I do.”
His mother wailed and collapsed in her seat again. Bucky hadn't wanted this. He had never meant to make his mother cry.
“So, this is all Steve's fault?” His father snapped.
Bucky tore his eyes away from his weeping mother, “What? No.”
“I knew that boy was no good. No man worth his salt would draw and read as much as that boy. He's weak. That's why he's always sick because... because he is sick. A dirty rotten fairy whose polluted my boy's mind with his filth.”
Bucky snarled, “Don't you dare talk about him that way. Steve is better than you'll ever be.”
His father laughed and turned around, stalking towards a cabinet. As he went, he muttered under his breath, “I'll teach that boy a lesson. Think he can.. can indoctrinate my boy with his godforsaken ways.”
“What are you doing?” Bucky asked as his father pulled out a shotgun.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Bucky repeated in a terrified scream. He didn't know that his voice could tear so suddenly.
“Gonna teach that boy a lesson,” His father murmured.
“NO!” Bucky yelled and ran forward to tackle his father to the ground. The gun went off and some plaster fell from the ceiling. Bucky pinned his father down and slammed his fists into his face with a type of desperate hysteria that boiled up from his stomach and stained his throat.
“I won't let you hurt him!” Bucky yelled between punches. He grabbed his father by the front of his shirt and slammed him back down hard. He heard a crack. He heard Bonnie and his mother screaming for him to stop but it was all background noise. It faded into the sounds of fists hitting flesh.
“Don't you get it?” He screamed into his father's bloody ear. “I love him. I am in love with him and if you make me choose between him and people who have rejected me then I will choose him every time. Every goddamn time. Do you hear me?!”
“Bucky?”
It was a small voice, but somehow Bucky heard it over everything else. He looked up and saw his sister, Rebecca, small in all her sixteen years of age. She stood by her bedroom door. Her eyes were wide like saucers.
He stood up and moved towards her. His hands open in a gesture of surrender, but the blood on his hands stained the sincere gesture. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to scare her.
His mother stood in front of him, blocking his path, “Get out,” she said. “Just get out and don't ever come back.”
He stopped. Nodding silently, he backtracked and walked out the door. He made sure that he didn't slam it behind him. Perhaps he had done enough damage for one day.
He was half way down the street when he heard Rebecca call out to him. Furiously wiping away the numb tears that had found on his cheek, he turned around with his trademark grin plastered on his face.
“Hey sis,” He said and his voice sounded more strained then he wished it to be.
“Bucky, what's going on?” She asked. “What did you do?”
Bucky smiled bitterly and looked up, as if hoping he would drain the newly formed tears back into his skull.
“Becca, you know I love you, right?” he said, looking directly into her eyes.
Rebecca stopped. She looked at him like he had suddenly sprouted wings. They were close but they were never loving. They had been rivals since they could talk to one another but Bucky loved her and he had to make sure she knew that. Especially if this was going to be the last time he saw her.
“Whatever ma and pa say, remember that I love you. I am you big brother and I'll be there for you no matter what... no matter what they say about me, okay?” His voice was salty and broke in several places when left unchecked.
Rebecca nodded slowly, “Of course, Buck. I love you too.”
He nodded curtly and turned around.
“Bucky!” Rebecca called out to him. “Where are you going?”
He ignored her, even though it hurt, and walked away.
-3-
Bucky had told Steve that nothing could tear them apart but he had been wrong. It had taken a war, it had taken a blast, a speeding train and fall but they had been torn apart.
“Steve will come save me,” he repeated, like a mantra, as Zola injected blue liquid into his icy veins.
“You keep on saying that,” Zola said in his Swiss accent, “But it's been weeks and you're still here.”
“Steve will come save me,” he said again. It was unclear if he had even heard Zola.
“You're relationship with the captain... it was intimate, no?”
Bucky sank into a heavy silence that, for some reason, made Zola laugh.
“I was worried it would be difficult to break you but it seems that the gods are on my side after all.”
Bucky grimaced, “Steve will come save me.”
Zola laughed and moved away. There was a rustle of papers before he dropped a newspaper on Bucky's lap.
“No. He won't.”
Bucky's fingers moved like lead as he lifted the newspaper so he could see the headline STEVE ROGERS DISAPPEARS scream at him in black ink. His eyes refused to see it and instead he placed his fingertips on the portrait of Steve's face.
“Steve will come save me,” he said again. They were lying. They had to be lying. Steve would come save him, just like he had before.
It took Zola four months to convince Bucky that Steve wasn't coming for him but it took him a year to convince Bucky that Steve was dead.
Every now and then, Zola would tease Bucky with a field trip. They would bind him, gag him and all but put him in a metal coffin and take him to places that rang with the death of the love of his life. They took him to look at the monument put up in Steve's honor- an empty grave. They even played the last recording of Steve's voice as he spoke to Peggy. Zola laughed in his face when Bucky had to listen to Steve plan a date that would never happen.
Finally, after a year of slowly whittling him down to nothing with experiments and mental torture, Bucky stopped saying the words 'Steve will come save me'. He stopped saying anything at all.
It was strange. After all that, Zola seemed disturbed by Bucky's silence. He spoke to Bucky all the time, taunting him for being so infatuated with another man.
“You really love the captain, didn't you?” He asked, out of the blue, one day in the heart of the Soviet Union.
Bucky didn't even blink.
“What a senseless tragedy,” Zola muttered, mostly to himself, as he ripped out Bucky's left shoulder blade.
-4-
“Bucky?”
“Who the hell is Bucky?”
“Bucky was my best friend, but he was so much more than that. Have you ever had someone who you thought you would never lose? It wouldn't matter what you did or where you went, this one person is such a fixed point in your life that it seems effortless to build your life around them. They can change. You can change. It wouldn't matter, because you'll stay with one another... till the end of the line.”
Sam looked at Steve as he spoke. His fingertips were pressed against his lips.
“Riley,” Sam said. “I guess that was the closest I'd ever gotten to that but, Steve, why do I get the feeling that what you and Bucky had wasn't exactly the same as what Riley and I had.”
Steve didn't move. He stared at the file. The contents were spread out in front of him telling the story of James Buchanan Barnes in medical reports.
“Steve, were you and Bucky... in love?” Sam asked. He was hesitant. He wasn't sure if this was just some misunderstanding that had arisen from being born in completely different eras. For all Sam knew, Steve could just be talking about a deep and meaningful friendship.
Steve's fingertips brushed over a picture of Bucky as he was, before the war, before the ice and the death and the blood of it all.
“We were,” Steve said.
All of a sudden, a lot of things that Steve had said and done made a lot more sense to Sam.
“Okay, okay,” Sam nodded. “How come this type of stuff never makes the history books?”
“We were very careful,” Steve said, misunderstanding Sam's cheerful sarcasm.
“So...” Sam said softly, with a more serious tone. “What are you going to tell him?”
Steve sighed heavily and placed his head in his hands.
“I don't know. He barely remembers me and whatever he does know he got from that museum exhibit. He thinks we were just best friends... just like the rest of the world thinks.”
“You're just not going to say anything?”
Steve shook his head, “If he remembers, then I'll come clean but if that doesn't happen... it's okay because he's alive.” Steve took a deep breath. “He's alive.”
Steve hadn't realized how difficult it would be not to let something slip. Being in love with Bucky Barnes was a singular part of his identity, like his blond hair and artist hands. He found it difficult not to touch Bucky constantly when they were alone. It was what they had done before. In company, they'd keep a distance between them and restrict their contact to casual slaps on the back or handshakes but the intimacy had always been amplified when they were alone. Alone, they would be entwined. Steve would bury his face in the crook of Bucky's shoulder blades. They'd hold hands, stroking and pressing tender kisses to bony knuckles. Now, Steve had to keep his distance at all times or risk Bucky finding the true nature of their relationship.
Bucky's state of mind made it more difficult. The worst came in waves. He'd claw at the place his metal arm connected. Steve worried that Bucky might wrench it out of his body in a severe fit of depression. Bucky hated himself and Steve loved him so much.
Steve wanted to curl behind him as he slept in fits and stroke his hair as he breathed too heavily, too sharp. It was a luxury that Steve was unsure that Bucky would appreciate. He didn't know, after all, how Bucky would react.
A part of Steve believed that, one day, Bucky would stroll in to the room while Steve drew or read and ask, simply, “Were we in love?” Steve waited for those words. Were we in love? He waited for the relief that would come with the answer. Yes. Completely and utterly in love.
He imagined Bucky's knowing grin. He imagined the kiss they would share after so long apart.
Sometimes, it was only that thought that kept his hand from reaching out to entwine with Bucky's metal fingers. One day, he would kiss those metallic knuckles and all would be alright.
It was a foolish, bitter dream and Steve hated himself for believing that it could be that easy.
Because Bucky didn't find out with a swagger and a grin, or even an exhale of relief, he found out when he overheard Steve and Tony talking.
“Must be hard,” Tony muttered.
“What must be?” Steve didn't even look up from the newspaper he was reading with his morning coffee.
“Pretending you're not in love with our resident brainwashed assassin.”
Steve almost choked on his coffee. He hadn't told Tony any of this.
“H-how did you know?” He blanched.
“Ah, there were always rumours. I mean, you two lived alone together in Brooklyn which was known for its more interesting bachelors. My dad mentioned it once or twice. He always wondered if there was something more. Honestly though, didn't really know until you burnt your tongue on your coffee just now.”
Steve went scarlet. It clashed with his pale skin. “Oh.”
“Wow, hey, don't worry about it,” Tony said, putting up his hands. “I'm not one to judge. I don't care what Captain America sticks his patriotic dick into.”
When Steve didn't answer, Tony tried a more sympathetic approach, which was new.
“Listen cap, the world has changed. It's not as straight and narrow as it used to be. Yeah, it's not perfect but it's better. It has to be better. You should tell him.”
Steve snorted, “Tell him what? Hey Buck, I know you have amnesia and haven't remembered most of our time together but we used to have a forbidden love affair back in the forties and I'm still completely in love with you. So fucking in love with you.”
“You're what?”
Steve spun around. Bucky was standing there, by the doorway, still wearing a pair of Steve's sweats and a holey sweater. Steve mentally cursed his assassin-grade stealth.
“Buck-,”
“YOU'RE WHAT?” Bucky interrupted loudly.
Steve stood up and froze, unsure if he should approach Bucky. He had gone as white as a sheet.
“No,” Bucky shook his head until strands of his hair came loose from his bun. “No. I would have remembered. It's not possible. You're fucking liar. What's wrong with you? I thought you were my friend.”
“I am your friend, Buck.”
“YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR!” Bucky roared.
“I'm just going to go...” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth and sidled out of the room.
Bucky stumbled back and grabbed his head. Steve knew those movements. He had memorized them within hours of Bucky's return. It meant Bucky was losing control, that memories he tried to keep at the back of his mind were bubbling up and threatening to overwhelm.
Steve stepped forward, tried to touch Bucky, but he flinched.
“NO!” He screamed. “Stop touching me. Please stop touching me.”
At that moment, Steve wasn't sure if Bucky was speaking to him or to Hydra.
“Bucky, listen to me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you exactly how we were before. I just didn't want … well, this to happen. I hoped you'd remember on your own.”
Bucky stumbled back until he hit a wall. He crouched down against it, then began to punch the wall with his metal hand like he was trying to claw his way out. Steve reached forward to grab him tightly by the shoulders. He was crying, his damp eyes avoiding Steve's.
When Bucky didn't respond, Steve kept talking.
“It doesn't have to mean anything. I love you, Buck, and I can love you in any form. I love you as a friend, a brother... a lover. It doesn't have to change anything.”
Bucky took in a deep, gulping breath.
“If you love me so much,” Bucky said softly, “then why didn't you come save me?”
Steve froze. His skin burnt from the words.
“I thought you were dead and I just...” He started but he didn't know how to finish that sentence. What was he supposed to say? I thought you were dead and I just... faded?
Bucky snorted, “I should have known it'd be too good to be true. What was I thinking? That you were some knight in shining armour who would rescue me from my tower. What was I thinking? That you'd save me like you did... before.”
Bucky fell silent and stared blankly at the wall. Steve slowly moved closer to him, so he didn't scare Bucky.
“Bucky...” He said softly.
Bucky didn't look up. He reached out a hand, palm up. His thin wrists looked brittle as though if they shook any more they would shatter. Without thinking about it, Steve grasped his hand. Instinctively, he entwined their fingers and when he squeezed Bucky's hand gently, Bucky squeezed back.
Bucky looked up at him, and then down at their hands. His eyes were shining and his cheeks were still wet. His red mouth was open slightly, in a silent gasp.
“Oh,” he muttered, then surged forward to kiss Steve.
Drunk with relief, Steve did not possess the power to stop the kiss at first. He kissed back passionately, biting and licking his way in to Bucky's mouth. He shivered when their tongues met. They broke apart quickly, the suddenness of the kiss leaving them both breathless.
Steve should have thought of the fact that Bucky hadn't been touched in decades, but he was too focused on how Bucky's hands moved over his skin, how it dipped under his shirt and skirted over his stomach. Steve closed his eyes. Bucky brushed his fingers up his chest and then his shirt was coming off and Bucky was kissing his neck and it all felt so goddamn good that Steve didn't know how he had survived seventy years without it.
Bucky pushed him down to the floor and hovered over him. Steve took advantage of that pause to curl his hand around Bucky's neck and drag himself upwards to kiss Bucky again. It was just a causal kiss, but Bucky followed him down again. He settled between Steve's legs and kissed him as Steve's hands threaded through his hair.
“I love you,” Bucky whispered against Steve's lips. He said it like the fact had surprised him, like it had caught him off guard. “I'm sorry... I'm sorry that I forgot that.”
Steve shook his head, wanting to say that it doesn't matter because Bucky was back. He was in his world again. His skin was touching his skin. His lips were touching his lips. It was all that mattered.
Bucky leaned away, just enough to that he could take his own shirt off. His muscles rippled as he did and Steve couldn't stop the full body blush that erupted over his body.
Bucky smiled, “I forgot that you used to do that.”
Bucky kissed his chest, trailing his lips up until he sucked a mark against his clavicle. Bucky was still shaking with aftershocks from the out-pouring of emotions. Steve wrapped his legs around Bucky, anchoring him down, and grinded up towards him. Bucky paused to let out a groan.
“Careful, Stevie,” He said. “It's been awhile. We have to go slow if you want this to last.”
“I don't care,” Steve croaked out as he fumbled at Bucky's belt. “It's been too long for me too. I need you. Now.”
Bucky's eyes darkened, “Okay. Okay. If you want me, then you've got me. All of me. It's yours.”
Steve kissed him. He slid his hand down Bucky's pants. Bucky gasped as Steve pressed his palm desperately against his hardened cock.
“Come on, Buck,” Steve murmured into the nape of his neck. “Come on.”
Bucky grinded into Steve's hand and Steve quickly removed his pants. Bucky's cock slipped out of his briefs. Steve pushed him back so he sat straight then kissed his lower abdomen until his mouth sunk in around Bucky's cock.
Bucky moaned as Steve bobbed his head up and down. Steve gripped Bucky's ass, kneaded it and pushing until Bucky's cock touched the back of his throat. It had been awhile; Steve nearly gagged against it.
“Fuck,” Bucky gasped. He gripped Steve's hair between his fingers, his metal fingers. Bucky had always been careful not touch any one with that hand. The thought that Steve had made him forget about a single part of his hated past sent a strange thrill down Steve's spine.
Steve let go of Bucky's cock with a small pop. He looked up at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide, and his cock was achingly hard.
“Fuck me,” Steve's lips moved against Bucky's muscles as he spoke. “I need you to fuck me.”
Bucky pushed him back. Their flat chests pressed together as Bucky pushed Steve's pants down. He spread Steve's legs and he put his finger's in Steve's mouth. Steve sucked at the metal fingers, his tongue weaving between the digits. It wouldn't be the first time they'd use spit as lube. Between the 40s and the war, there had been times when the need had come before the right equipment was available. Steve didn't mind. He trusted Bucky.
Bucky pulled his fingers out and moved them circle around Steve's hole. Steve arched his back and moaned. His cock lay, hard, against his stomach. Bucky gently moved his finger inside Steve. He pressed tentative kisses against the base of Steve's cock, distracting him as he inserted another finger.
“Fuck!” Steve cried out.
Bucky looked up sharply, “Am I hurting you?”
Steve closed his eyes, “No, god no. ”
Bucky smiled before sucking at Steve's cock and adding another finger. He curved his fingers just so and Steve cried out again.
“There,” Steve panted. “Right there.”
Bucky continued to apply a constant and steady pressure against it. Steve found himself keening against Bucky's skin, running his fingertips up and down his spine. He raked his fingernails down Bucky's back. Bucky hissed softly and applied even more pressure. Steve's vision pulsed with white.
“Fuh-fuck,” Steve whimpered. He pressed his hands against his forehead.
“You like that, Stevie?” Bucky asked innocently, like he couldn't see Steve's chest heaving.
“Yes,” Steve whispered.
“I'm going to fuck you now, Steve,” Buck said, almost conversationally.
Steve grinded upwards in anticipation and moaned.
“First, I'm going to go slow though,” Bucky murmured. “I'm going to wait for you to get used to me. We're going to get used being inside and outside one another. I'm going to kiss you everywhere and fuck you so goddamn slow that you'll beg for it... and just as it gets too much, when we're so high on the sensation that it feels like we're going to shatter, I'm going to pound against you like my life depends on it because it does Steve. It fucking does. I love you so fucking much. I can't believe I forgot that...”
Steve surged up to kiss him. It was a sloppy, wet kiss. Their teeth clattered against each other.
When they broke apart, Steve said, “You've always had a way with words.”
Bucky grinned then shuffled back a bit. He lined them up and slowly, tortuously slowly, he slipped inside.
Steve clung to Bucky's back. Bucky didn't move. He looked at Steve's face as it slowly eased away from discomfort and into pleasure then he slowly pulled out and back in.
“Oh god,” Steve whimpered. “Oh god, Buck, please.”
“Shh,” Bucky stroke Steve's face as he moved in and out again. Their skin stuck together from the sweat as they moved apart and back together again.
Bucky gradually picked up the pace. They found a steady rhythm. Every time Bucky moved inside Steve, he felt it like an electric shock. Bucky's metal fingers entwined with Steve's and he pinned one hand over his head. His other hand moved to clamp around Steve's thigh as he pressed it up and drove deeper into him. He shifted the angle and Steve gasped. Bucky moved faster. Their bodies slapped together.
“Faster,” Steve groaned.
Bucky squeezed his hand and moved faster.
“Faster,” Steve said again and bit his lip.
Bucky slammed against him. Steve felt his shoulder blades move against the floorboards. He wrapped his arms around Bucky's shoulders, pulling him closer and buried himself further into Bucky.
Bucky groaned every time he moved. His rhythm was becoming erratic, unsteady. He hooked Steve's leg over his shoulder and began to slam into him. Steve looked at Bucky, his eyes were dark and strands of knotted hair fell into his face. Steve was suddenly thrown by how beautiful he was.
Steve felt his orgasm start in the pit of his stomach and it quickly ebbed into his bones.
“I'm gonna... I'm gonna,” Steve gasped out.
Steve back arched as he came, white liquid sprayed over his and Bucky's chest. Steve breathed heavily, digging his heels into Bucky;s lower back. Bucky thrust into him, riding the waves with Steve as he had his own orgasm. They came, cheek to cheek, and then collapsed.
Steve wasn't sure how long they lay there. Bucky slowly pulled out of him and then collapsed back into Steve's arms.
His chest was still heaving, his heart racing, and Bucky pressed his head against it, slowly nuzzling the space between his ribs. Steve ran his fingers lazily through his hair.
“I'm sorry,” Bucky muttered.
Steve tensed, “No, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it go that far. You weren't ready. I should have-,”
Bucky interrupted, “I'm not talking about the sex, Steve. There's no way I would ever feel the need to apologize for sleeping with you.”
“Oh.” Steve said, “Then why?”
“I'm sorry that I reacted so badly to finding out that we were more. It's just that-,”
“You don't have to explain, love.”
Bucky looked up, placing his chin on Steve's cheek, “But could I anyway?”
“Yeah, of course,” Steve trailed his fingertips across Bucky's temple.
“I just... it's been so long. So long. Everything comes in these little shock waves. I remember us playing on a beach when we are kids but the next thing I remember is punching the lights out of my father. It doesn't make any sense. I don't really know how things follow on. I can't remember how we fell in love. I just remember that we are. It' s just a feeling that I remember. Is it enough?”
“It's honestly more than I hoped for, Buck.”
Bucky smiled shyly, ducking his head back into Steve's skin, “I remember you coming to save me but again, just the feeling of being saved. It's such a wonderful thing, Steve, to be saved by the person you love.”
“You're angry that I didn't save you again,” Steve filled in for him. He had expected that much. How could he not? He was angry with himself.
But Bucky shook his head, “No. I was angry because they used your death to break me and I took it out on you, because I didn't really understand how they were able to do that. I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so fucking sorry.”
“No,” Steve said. “Don't be sorry. It was my fault.”
“It wasn't any one's fault. It was the Red Skull. It was Zola. It was Hydra. It wasn't us, Stevie. It took me a while, but I understand that now.”
Steve smiled and kissed him. Bucky had spoken about this before, about where they were supposed to put the blame. On his bad days, he blamed himself. On his worse days, he blamed Steve. This was the first time he had blamed Hydra. Steve knew that Bucky had been broken but he understood that it was Bucky's responsibility to fix himself. But Steve had always been selfish and if he could help Bucky with kind words or fucking against the floorboards then he would do it over and over again.
“There you guys are- OH SWEET JESUS MY EYES!”
Steve looked up in time to see the quickly retreating back of Clint Barton. He caught Bucky's eye. His first instinct was to worry about being caught. Bucky's smirked and then burst into laughter. Steve couldn't help but laugh along.
-5-
In the weeks that followed, the Avengers learned, one by one, the true nature of Bucky and Steve's relationship. Natasha already knew, of course.
Even though they all knew, Steve and Bucky found it difficult to engage in any form of public display of affection. Natasha would curl up in Clint's lap like a cat, press her face into the nape of his neck so all you could see was the shock of her red hair. It took Bucky weeks to sit close enough to Steve so he could press the side of his body against Steve's. It didn't matter how many times the others said that they didn't care, that it didn't matter. Hiding their relationship was ingrained in them in a military way.
“I have literally seen both of you sweaty and naked, laying on the floor with that whole post-coital glow. I hate to break it to you guys, but I know you're sleeping together,” Clint said one night when they were all watching movies.
Bucky slowly rotated his head around to glare at Clint, who promptly pressed his face into Natasha's neck.
She cooed and stroked his head, “He's right you know.”
“We know,” Steve said. He looked over at Bucky, who was sitting at the far side of the couch. “We'll get there.”
They weren't given time to get there naturally though. As the live of an Svenger was chaotic at best and disastrous at worst, the next week there was an alien invasion. It was large enough that Fury succumbed to the threats that Bucky made about being kept out of the field. It was the first time in seventy years that Bucky was watching Steve's six. They fell back into the easy rhythm, dancing back to back. Bucky scouted out from rooftops and dropped their enemies one after another with deadly accuracy.
When all was done, when they were surrounded by the corpses of their enemy, Bucky stood in front of Steve and smiled.
“Never thought I'd do this again,” He said.
“Do what? Watch my back? Hound me like a mother hen?”
Bucky tilted his head to the side, “I don't know. Just... be there for you. The past few months, it's all been you. Its been you supporting me and I just wanted to-,”
“Kiss me.”
Bucky looked at him, “What?”
They were standing alone in a broken street. There was rumble and corpses around them but they were otherwise alone. Steve stepped closer to Bucky, trailing his fingertips up his metal arm.
“There's no one around,” Steve said. “We just saved the world. I think we deserve this. Kiss me.”
Bucky looked behind them, then slowly leaned up to press his lips against Steve's. It was simple, but the feeling that Steve was smiling beneath the kiss was enough. Bucky's therapists had told him that he was allowed to get what he wanted and god, he wanted this. He wanted Steve. He wanted to kiss him before and after battlefields. He wanted a life with Steve, although this was nothing new. He had always expected to spend his life without Steve.
They were too caught up in the moment, too caught up in the feeling, for their super soldier hearing to pick up the subtle click of the camera.
*
The next day when Steve and Bucky shambled in to the lounge, they found the rest of the Avengers huddled around the television while exchanging hushed whispers and hurried glances.
“Dear God, don't tell me its another alien invasion,” Bucky sighed as he dropped on to the couch.
The others whipped around. It was the first time, in as long as they known them, that the Avengers were all silent at the same time.
“What is it?” Steve said, seriously. He had his commander expression that matched his captain's voice. Bucky had seen both last night.
“Is it a giant squid?” Bucky smirked.
Natasha shook her head slowly.
“It's not Loki, is it?” Steve asked.
“No,” Clint said, “You... You guys should look at this and, um, not freak out.”
He made to move and then paused, “Especially you, James.”
Bucky frowned, “What the hell?”
Clint moved aside to give them a view of the television. It was on mute, but Steve and Bucky could clearly see the image of them kissing after the battle spread out on national tv for the entire world to see.
Bucky stood up slowly, and cursed under his breath. Steve hovered, unsure of what to say. Bucky slowly walked to the tv and stared. The image had moved to a news anchor, who seemed calm as she spoke the secret capable of tearing Bucky's world apart.
“Fuck,” Bucky cursed softly. He pressed his metal fingertips against the screen.
“Fuck.”
“James,” Natasha said softly. “It'll be okay. It's not the same as it used to be-,”
“FUCK,” Bucky screamed as he punched through the television screen.
“BUCKY!” Steve yelled.
Bucky ignored him and wrenched the tv off the wall. The other Avengers scattered. Clint went as far as climbing on top of the fridge. When it seemed that no one would dare touch him, Steve reached out a hand and placed it firmly on Bucky's shoulder.
His chest was heaving and he flinched at Steve's touch. If Steve was hurt, he didn't show it.
“Bucky, look at me,” He said softly, his hand hovering over Bucky's skin. Bucky curled inwards towards his chest and gripped at his hair so sharply that he almost pulled it out. Steve threw caution to the wind and wrapped Bucky up in a big bear hug. Bucky froze, then melted into the embrace. He clutched the back of Steve's neck and whispered frantically in to his ear.
“They'll take you away again. They always do.”
“Not this time,” Steve pressed a kiss just below his ear. “Nothing will tear us apart. Not even this.”
Bucky let out a small sob and smothered himself against Steve's skin.
“Please, please, let me get what I want. Just this once. Please.”
When they finally let each other go, they were in an empty room. The Avengers had sidled out while they were wrapped around one another.
Bucky sniffed, “I can't believe this is happening again.”
“Hey,” Steve tilted his chin upwards so Bucky would look at his eyes. “This is not happening again.”
Bucky let out a small, defeated laugh, “Are you sure? Because it's worse this time isn't it? Captain America and an American traitor? I'm sure they're just all going to love us now.”
“You aren't a traitor.”
Bucky looked at Steve. There were tears in his eyes that shone in the most terrible light.
“Stevie-,”
“No. Don't Stevie me. Everything is going to be fine. It's my turn to take care of you, remember?”
Bucky smiled softly.
“There it is,” Steve breathed a small sigh of relief. “You know I live for that smile, don't you?”
Bucky laughed, “You're a hopeless romantic, pal.”
“Can't help it,” Steve murmured, “And anyway, you love it.”
“I love you.”
Steve leaned his forehead against Bucky's, “I love you too.”
“Guys...”
Steve and Bucky looked up to see Natasha standing awkwardly by the door. She smiled kindly. The corners of her mouth quipped upwards slightly.
“I think there's something you should see.”
They looked at each other, confused, but then Steve gripped Bucky's hand. Together, they followed Natasha to a large, floor to ceiling window. She looked back at them and smirked, beckoning them to come closer.
Bucky and Steve peered through the windows and into the streets below. They were on the thirtieth floor and had a wide view of the busy New York street below them.
There were thousands of people there, spreading as far as they could see. They gathered at the roots of the Avenger's tower. Some were waving striped flags.
“What is this?” Bucky said. “An angry mob?”
Natasha grinned, “The opposite actually.”
“Check it out,” Tony sidled next to them and approached the window. “I designed these windows myself.”
He made a flicking movement with his fingers, the same movement that Steve had seen him use with his holograms, and the image that they saw through the windows zoomed in like it was a computer screen.
Steve looked at the crowd, that were now close enough that it felt like they were just outside the window of the thirtieth floor.
“Oh my god,” Bucky's mouth dropped open. “They're... are they?”
Steve smiled widely at him, a smile that shone like a bright light.
“It's not an angry mob. They're not here to tear you apart. They're here to show their support for the both of you, and to protect you from those who won't understand,” Natasha said.
Bucky gripped Steve's hand. His relief settled in his chest like a warm pool. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Steve's palm against his. They weren't here to take him away from Steve. He could barely believe it.
“You should go out there,” Tony said.
Steve looked at Bucky, “What do you think?”
Bucky faltered. It was one thing to know that there were people who supported him and Steve in an abstract way, but to put himself in front of them was something else entirely.
Sensing his hesitation, Steve said, “We don't have to do anything you don't want to.”
“No,” Bucky said, settling his face into a determined expression. “We should do it.”
Steve smiled, “Okay. I'll stay with you every step of the way.”
As they left, Natasha gave them the thumbs up. Bucky and Steve walked down the building in silence, but every once in a while they exchange looks to reassure themselves. They didn't speak until they were at the door.
“You ready?” Steve asked.
“As ready as I'll ever be.”
Steve pushed open the door. Immediately, they were hit with a wall of sound. Bucky lifted up his metal arm to shield his eyes from the sun. The light glinted off the sheer surface and every, single person in the ground looked at them.
The noise evaporated suddenly in to a vortex. The crowd stood still and looked at them. For a second, Bucky was terrified that they had misread the situation, that they were really there to take Steve away again.
Then there was a ripple in the crowd, and people started cheering. Steve lead Bucky into the light. They stood together, on a platform, hand in hand in front of hundreds of people. Bucky saw some signs that read things like THIS IS THE FREEDOM BUCKY AND CAPTAIN AMERICA FOUGHT FOR and BUCKY BARNES IS INNOCENT.
Bucky breathed in sharply when he read those words. He had never expected any of this, not in his wildest dreams had he ever entertained the idea that people would accept him being with Steve.
Someone in the crowd cried out the words, “GO ON! KISS HIM!”
Steve looked at Bucky and grinned.
“Might as well,” Bucky shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant when he was actually on the verge of tears.
They turned, holding hands, to face each other. Slowly, Steve leaned forward to press a soft kiss on Bucky's lips as the crowd cheered.