AN - Whoo hoo, so it's been awhile, but I'm back (for summer at least). I'm sunburnt to a crisp, no joke, which was the inspiration for this one-shot. Hope you guys enjoy! Feel free to let me know what you think or request another fic in the reviews. Thank you! ~VW

"You need to get out of the house." Steve Rogers announces, opening the blinds to let some sun in. Bucky nearly hisses as the bright sunshine hits him right in the eyes. Even before all this, Bucky has never been a morning person.

"You see? This is what I'm talking about."

"I'm fine." Bucky snaps. "I don't want to get out of the house."

Bucky has been living with Steve ever since they had reunited in "the new century", as he constantly calls it. Everything is so different from how he remembered it. Some things were the same: there were still auto-mobiles (though these current ones had too many controls and buttons), radios, televisions (again, very much improved) and there was still fighting going on, in varies parts of the world. However, some of the newer gadgets Bucky hadn't quite mastered including the phenomenon known as "the Internet", microwaves, cheese you could spray from a can, "texting" with phones that can fit and your back pocket and digital alarm clocks (those infuriating devices!), among others. Life was just so convenient for people now, it was downright confusing. In order to protect himself from these technological evils, he'd holed up in Steve's house (on Steve's insisting), letting him get used to all the unfamiliar innovations. That was just fine with Bucky. Although Steve didn't know everything, he knew most things and was always happy to help. Thank God, because Bucky probably wouldn't have survived much longer without him.

Steve gives Bucky a pitying look, one that almost appears guilty. "Have you seen yourself lately, Buck?"

Actually, he has. Dark circles hide underneath his eyes and his hair is much longer than he remembers it being. In fact, he has trouble remembering lots of things and often zones out, completely forgetting where and when he is. A simple "yes" is all he answers to his friend.

"Well, you'll feel a lot better getting out of this dump." Steve gestures around the cramped apartment. It isn't usually this messy, but since Bucky's been living with him, he hasn't necessarily been so keen on doing laundry and the actual carpet is barely visible amongst the clothes strewn about the floor. "I have to go to the store, so you're either coming with me or sitting out on the patio to get some sun."

Bucky weighs his options carefully. Go out in public looking like a complete freak or go outside in the privacy of his own home. Either way, he'll have to go outside. "I'll stay here." he mumbles. "Come back soon."

Steve nods. "Okay. Shouldn't be more than an hour." He watches Bucky to see if he'll actually make the first move to go outside.

Bucky knows exactly what he's waiting for; he closes his eyes and sighs. "Okay, okay. I'm going."

"Wait." Steve tosses him an aerosol can. "Sunscreen. It's pretty hot outside today."

Bucky catches it. Sunscreen in a can? What's next, talking animals?

"See you in a bit." he smiles his best Captain America smile, flashing his teeth, before disappearing out the door.

"Yeah, okay."

The "sunscreen" proves to be a mystery. Why couldn't it have just been in a tube, like all other sunscreens? Bucky sits down in the lawn chair Steve put out on the tiny patio and squints against the sun, trying to get a good look at the can. Giving up, he sighs loudly and tosses the it. The aerosol can lands head first on the concrete and a white mist sprays out, only for a second, until it clatters to the ground and rolls toward his foot. Oh.

Bucky retrieves the can and stares intently at the top. If it hit the ground on its head and worked, the all he has to do is push down on the top? Isn't that how the cheese-in-a-can worked? Couldn't hurt to try. He mashes down on the top with his mechanical fingers (to exert the most force, of course) and is immediately blinded by a fine spray of sunscreen. This time, he does hiss and hurls the can off the side of the deck for good measure. "Dammit!" he yells angrily as his eyes really begin to sting.

Forget sunscreen, he thinks to himself. It doesn't matter. Because right now, he's pissed at the world. He's angry at whoever is to blame for getting him stuck in this stupid century, he's angry at his metal arm that still feels too heavy despite how often he's used it, he's angry at his long, stringy hair that's always in his face, he's angry at SmileySun for putting their sunscreen in an idiotic aerosol can and he's angry at Steve for giving him the stuff in the first place. Bucky falls asleep without meaning to, still annoyed and internally fuming.

There's a hand on Bucky's shoulder and he doesn't like it one bit. Bucky's eyes fly open and he growls, twisting away from whoever it is that's touching him. And that person happens to be Steve.

"Whoa, whoa. Just me." Steve assures him, taking a step back and holding his hands up in surrender. "It's Steve. Steve Rogers." He waits to see if he should explain himself any further.

Buck's eyebrows knit together. Steve. Why does that sound familiar? Steve. "Oh." Bucky groans and rubs his eyes, vaguely wondering why they hurt. Then he repeats himself. "Oh..."

"Why are your eyes so red? Have you been...?" Steve trails off because the thought of Bucky crying just strikes him as odd. Yet, his eyes are definitely red around the rims and very watery. Now, as he's staring at his friend, he notices it's not just his eyes that are red, but the majority of him.

"My eyes... I, uh, got sunscreen in them."

"Uh huh." Steve says slowly, trying to piece everything together. "You're pretty sunburned actually. And you say you used the sunscreen?"

"Kind of."

The two sit together for a few minutes; Bucky, blinking rapidly and Steve, enjoying the sunset that's right in front of them.

"Hey, Buck?"

"Yeah?"

"Where is the sunscreen?"

Bucky gets up, stumbling a little until he gets the feeling back in his legs, and peers over the edge of the deck. Their apartment is on the fourth floor. "It's down there."

Steve joins him and leans over the railing. "That's a long way for a can of sunscreen to fall."

"It didn't fall. I threw it. Sorry." Bucky mumbles, still staring at the ground. "I couldn't figure out how it worked and then I just... I mean... I don't-"

"It's okay." He puts a hand on his friend's shoulder and pats him. "Let's go get you fixed up."

Inside, Steve tears through the medicine cabinet, picking up numerous bottles and containers, most of them being Bucky's meds. With a triumphant grin, he plucks up a green bottle of aloe vera, then changes his mind with a shake of his head. "Let's do this the old fashioned way."

Bucky is sitting at the kitchen table, scratching mindlessly at the wood like it's some sort of game until Steve returns with a plant Bucky immediately recognises as aloe. Steve snips three of the long, succulent leaves off and cuts them all in half, revealing the aloe.

"Take your shirt off." he instructs and Bucky does, robotically. His stomach and torso are pale in complete contrast to his burned shoulder and arm. His cheeks and nose are also pink. Steve tries his best not to smile but Bucky just looks so damn cute. He feels guilty for even thinking it, because Bucky's still recovering, but he just reminds him so much of the old Bucky. The one Steve lost.

"Okay. Close your eyes." He rubs the aloe onto the tips of his fingers and gently massages the stuff into Bucky's angry skin. When his friend winces, Steve clucks his tongue. "I know it hurts, I'm sorry."

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek and squeezes his eyes shut until he's done. Steve touches his hand gently and again, those blue eyes flit open.

"There you go," Steve says, "I'll turn on the fan so that aloe can dry faster."

The Winter Soldier and Captain America sit on the couch together watching re-runs of The Office and Full House, along with other Steve-approved, non-violent television series, until he feels the weight of Bucky's head on his shoulder.