Author's Note: This is a little fanfiction project that just kind of happened without me actually trying, but by now I have enough of these that I have to admit this is bigger than just idle scribbling. This will be a collection of oneshots that are based on fanart. There are some really cool pieces of art out there for the Captain America fandom, and some of them just reach out their little artistic hands and grab my heart and refuse to give it back until I've put it down in words. Some pictures are just, "Oh, cool picture!" But these ones made me want to explore the story before, after, behind, and around every squiggle.
To keep some sort of theme to these disjointed oneshots, every chapter will be about Steve and/or Bucky, and they all take place in an AU-ish setting where Bucky has become an Avenger. You can see it as a possible (if unlikely from where we currently stand) future after Civil War, or an AU of what would have happened if Bucky had sought Steve out during those two years he was trying to find him. By no means will the chapters be in chronological order, because I'm writing them as the inspiration strikes. This first one would be pretty early on, though.
Unfortunately, most of the artwork that's inspired me is proving rather difficult to track back to its original artist. If it starts sounding familiar and you think you know who the original artist is, please PM me so I can give credit where credit is due! This one was inspired by a little comic that apparently came from katinca dot tumblr dot com, who moved her fanart somewhere else and I can't find it T_T
Feel free to link me to fanart you'd like to see turned into a story! No guarantees that I will write it, though; it has to tickle my fancy enough to give me an idea to work with. I'll certainly give every piece you send me a serious consideration, though.
Every morning after Bucky showed up on his doorstep, Steve greeted him, not with a simple "good morning," but with a hug and a murmur of, "Your name is James Buchanan Barnes and you're my best friend." He would always make sure to approach him from the front, or to shuffle his feet on the floor and yawn loudly so Bucky would know he was coming. But every morning was the same.
At first, Bucky seemed a little bemused, but he always let Steve hug him anyway. After a while, he seemed to expect this greeting every morning. He would turn to face Steve when he approached, or free up his hands, or at least turn his head slightly when he heard Steve coming, like an animal turning its ears to a new sound. Sometimes, when Steve embraced him from the front, Bucky's hands would clumsily find their way to Steve's back, trying to remember how this strange action worked.
Eventually, he started to respond.
"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes and you're my best friend."
Bucky made a sound that could almost be a laugh. "I know my name now, Steve."
Steve, who stood behind him with his arms draped loosely over Bucky's shoulders, smiled against Bucky's neck where he could feel it. "Good."
"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes and you're my best friend."
Bucky, trapped against his chest, didn't try to move. "I know."
"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes and you're my best friend."
Steve was hugging him from behind again, but Bucky raised his hand and touched the arm that crossed his chest. He tilted his head to the side, so that it nudged Steve's just slightly.
"Thank you," he whispered.
One day when Steve woke first, he decided to take a shower before breakfast so he could eat with Bucky. When he emerged from the bathroom, towel still over his head as he rubbed his hair dry, two arms suddenly wrapped around him, one of them cold against his bare back.
A low voice said through the towel and into his ear, "Your name is Steven Grant Rogers and you're my best friend."
They looked ridiculous—Bucky standing on tiptoe, the towel still draped over Steve's head—but they stood there for a long time.