Captain America was a soldier. He never really thought himself as anything else. As a child he wanted to go into the army to help others. However, his dreams were crushed when he became an adult. He thought of himself as nothing. He thought that he was a scrawny brat who couldn't ever save anyone.
That was, until he met him.
'him' was more commonly known as Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. He saw everything he wasn't in Bucky. He saw strength, he saw bravery, and he saw people trusting him with their lives. The first time that Steve had met Bucky he knew that that was who he wanted to be. He wanted to be a strong person who stood up for others.
These thoughts were crossing Captain America's mind one day. He thought about them hard. He hadn't remembered these things in over seventy years and he hated it. He felt bad. He wanted Bucky to know how much saving him that day had helped him and showed him how even a scrawny boy like him could help others.
He leaned over on his chair and laced his fingers together pondering over everything. He didn't know what to think. He felt something that he hadn't felt in a while. What was this feeling? He couldn't put his finger on it. Suddenly, the door opened.
Steve looked up to see Bucky. His brown hair was in a mess and looked like it hadn't been brushed in a while. His cool blue eyes were calculating. He looked as if he had a lot on his mind. Steve straightened up and opened his mouth.
"Hey." He said bluntly, casually looking up and down at his friend. His eyes lingered on his arm. He wondered how much it had hurt. For a second, he felt bad. Bucky had always been there for him through thick and thin. Yet, when his friend needed him most he wasn't there to save him. He let Bucky fall to his death and he was never going to forgive himself. Hating himself, Steve looked away quickly trying to find something else to distract himself with.
"Hey." Bucky said simply. He turned and walked past Steve. Steve looked up in time to see that Bucky hadn't looked at him at all. A twinge of fear ran through Steve as he thought that his friend could be mad at him. He pushed himself up and grabbed Bucky's shoulder. Bucky turned around and looked quite startled. Steve didn't know what to do. He had to hide his face. He was afraid to cry.
Steve quickly pulled Bucky in for a hug, tightening his arms around Bucky's shoulders. Steve stuck his face in Bucky's shoulder so he couldn't see his face. After a few seconds of standing like that, Steve finally spoke.
"I am so sorry." He managed to finally croak. That voice was filled with so much desperation and so much heart break that Steve felt Bucky tense up. In a quick move, Bucky's arms were around Steve. Steve loved how warm Bucky was. In his youth, Bucky had always smelled of the same thing. Shaving cream. Even now he still smelled the same way. Steve loved this smell. To him, this smell was home.
"You smell like beer. Have you been drinking?" Bucky said with an edge in his voice. Steve's eyes widened in surprise. What was this edge to Bucky's voice? Was he angry? Was he sad? Was he too thinking about the lives we had? Steve pulled his face out of Bucky's shoulder and looked at his friend.
"Are you alright?" Steve quietly said, hoping that nothing had happened to cause Bucky to be upset. Bucky frowned and stared at his friend.
"Why are you sorry?" Bucky asked, tightening his grip on Steve. Steve was surprised. He didn't know? How could he not know?
"I'm sorry for leaving you. Isn't that obvious?" Steve said, trying to stay calm and not let his emotions get the best of him. What did Bucky think he was sorry for? Does he not remember? Surely he does.
"It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault." Bucky whispered. The edge in his voice was now gone and replaced with softness. Steve raised his head and their eyes met. Then something snapped. Suddenly, Bucky's mouth was on his. (Now, how do you think the rest of this story should go? Leave your response in the comments.)