You're Enjoying This Aren't You?

By

Ghostlywhitedirewolf


This one was really about me testing my ability to write in a different way than I normally do without it being a disaster. I usually don't write in this tense, I much prefer to write in the past tense, so this is a completely new experience for me and angst is my forte, not humour and fluff. Let me know if I failed horrendously, seriously, I appreciate the [CONSTRUCTIVE!] criticism.


1.

"Bucky, seriously, you're going to love it." Steve tells him with a smile as he pulls on Bucky's right arm, dragging him toward the TV room of the recently dubbed, Avengers Tower.

Bucky sighs, allowing himself to be pulled along despite the knowledge that if he really didn't want to, Steve would have had a difficult time getting him to move.

"You told me that I'd love Star Wars and I'm still not sure. I don't understand the whole the first is the fourth and all that shit." Bucky rolls his eyes, plopping down onto the couch and tucking his legs beneath him as Steve turns back towards him, an expression of exasperation on his face.

"Bucky, you know that's not…" Steve pauses, as though considering whether it's worth repeating the same argument for the fifth time this month when he notices the childish glint in Bucky's eye and the slight upturn of his mouth as the other man fights not to smirk.

"You're hilarious Buck. Real hilarious. Here I am trying to help you out and you're throwing it back in my face. Maybe next time I'll let Stark mock you with references you don't understand." Steve said with faux anger as he flops down onto the couch next to Bucky, crossing his arms and feigning annoyance.

Bucky rolls his eyes again. "Are you seriously pouting? Is this a thing now? You were frozen for seventy years and came back as a giant oversized toddler who throws tantrums?"

Steve has to fight to keep his face straight as Bucky jabs him in the ribs, a sure fire way to get him laughing. Bucky is the only one who knows that his ribs are a weak, ticklish spot and the other man had always abused it when they younger.

"No, Bucky, no, do not!" he tells him, pushing Bucky's arms away, able to fight off his flesh arm but powerless to stop the strength in the metal arm due to his laughing.

Bucky smirks, moving up the couch in an attempt to continue the onslaught, throwing one of his legs over Steve's lap to hold him down as he fought against the hands that held him, momentarily savouring the fact that this position now came without the fear of a panic attack or the need to lash out at the arms which held him. He didn't feel the same fear when he found himself trapped by Steve or one of the other Avengers. Strangers, yes, his team, no.

His momentary lapse in concentration loses him his advantage and Steve finally succeeds in getting himself free from Bucky's attack by pulling Bucky's arms out to his sides, as though he were measuring the span of him.

Steve smirks as this position causes Bucky to lose the bit of balance he had, falling forward onto Steve's chest, both men shaking with laughter.

It feels good; Steve thinks decidedly, it feels nice to have the old Bucky back, even for small moments. He likes the new Bucky just the same, but the moments of light heartedness are fewer and far between these days. They've both changed over the years. Bucky through the years of abuse and conditioning that he'd been forced to endure, Steve through the difference in time and also the loss of the people he had held most dear.

Pain changes people, they both know that better than most, but Steve thinks, as he looks down at Bucky who has his forehead resting against Steve's sternum, still laughing, that they'll be okay.

"What the fuck, oh my god, JARVIS why didn't you warn me!?" Steve looks up to see Tony covering his eyes as he backs towards the door of the room.

"What? Warn you about what?" Steve asks glancing from Tony, to Bucky who is watching Tony with a matching look of confusion.

"You two, you.." Tony waves his finger back and forth between them. "You're…"

He looks at a loss and shakes his head, exiting the door muttering something about needing a drink.

"What was that about?" Bucky asks, Steve's hands moving from their position on, Bucky's hips.

Oh.

Oh.

"I think he thought," Steve frowns, "I think he thought we were having sex."

Bucky snorts, moving sideways to sit beside Steve again. "I think if that were going to happen, we'd have chosen somewhere slightly less public. I'm not into the whole voyeurism thing."

Steve's eyes narrow at the comment, at the lack of denial, as though Bucky didn't mind that Stark thought they were sleeping together, he was more offended that Stark didn't think they'd pick a more suitable place.

Bucky watches Steve with interest, watches the way lines form on his forehead as he processes what Bucky had said.

"Don't think too hard, you might hurt yourself." Bucky comments lightly, bumping Steve's shoulder with his metal one.

"I.." Steve shakes his head. "Um, nothing. Are we going to watch this show or not?"

"Go ahead, enlighten me. Though, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to understand Star Trek any more than I understand Star Wars, whatever the difference is." Bucky feigns exasperation and wiggles, getting himself comfortable as Steve calls to JARVIS to start playing the recording.

"Shut up and watch it, jerk." Steve swats Bucky away as the other man buries his feet under Steve's thigh.

"Punk." Bucky mumbles in reply, but obediently stops moving and turns toward the screen. "This better be good."


2.

The second time it happens, Steve and Bucky are arguing over the best ways to cook pasta. Steve likes his with chilli and chorizo, whilst Bucky insists on chicken and it's a constant battle, the two of them suggesting ingredients to go into the pan of tomato sauce whilst the other grumbles and complains.

"Fine, Buck. You cook it however you want." Steve throws up his arms, the spoon clattering onto the work surface as the blond steps back, turning to face Bucky who is sat on the other side of the kitchen island, his chin perched on his crossed arms as he leans on the table, watching and critiquing Steve whilst he cooks. "It always comes out tasting like the vegetable broth that you used to make, but do what you want, I don't care."

Bucky's eyes roll, a habit that had become much more prominent with prolonged exposure to Tony, and he gets to his feet.

"Don't be such a drama queen, Stevie." Bucky grumbles, grabbing a pinch of chilli flakes and dumping it into the pan of sauce. "Cook the chicken and chorizo vegetables to try and keep you healthy. Old habits die hard and all that."

He sees Steve's shoulders relax as the tension drains out of him. "I'm sorry Buck."

"Be nice to your elders, punk." Bucky tells him with a wink as he grabs a bottle of red wine, unscrewing the lid and pouring some into the sauce before placing a lid onto the pan and leaving it to simmer.

"Did you seriously just put Stark's good wine into our lunch? Who taught you that?" Steve eyes the bottle of wine suspiciously, half convinced that Tony is about to pop up and yell at them.

"Natasha." Bucky shrugs. "And yes, it tastes better."

"Nat, cooking. Now there's something I can't imagine." Steve looks thoughtful as though trying to picture the Russian in a pinafore, slaving over a stove and Bucky smiles, resting his hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sure she cooks. She was showing me some Russian recipes. The woman makes a mean rassoljnik."

"Rassol-what?" Steve asks, pulling a face. That did not sound good, whatever it was.

Bucky laughs gently. "Rassoljnik, it's a soup with beef, barley and pickle. It's good. I'll make it for you sometime."

"Are you sure she's not trying to poison you? That sounds deadly." Steve jokes moving to stand beside Bucky, lifting the lid of the pan and smelling the sauce.

"It is not deadly. Do you think I'd seriously risk killing you?" Bucky grins, turning and pushing Steve against the counter with a questioning glance, suddenly much closer to the other man.

He hears Steve's slight intake of breath, notices the way Steve's eyes flick from Bucky's eyes to his mouth and back again as Bucky crowds his space. He doesn't miss the way Steve holds himself still, as though waiting to see what Bucky will do next.

"Try it." Bucky tells him, reaching behind Steve to grab a spoon, his face moving closer to Steve's as his movement causes their shoulders to brush against each other.

"What?" Steve asks, visibly distracted.

Bucky raises an eyebrow and shoots him a one sided smirk, as he scoops some of the pasta sauce onto the spoon and offers it to Steve.

Steve studies the spoon for a moment before taking it into his mouth, a low noise escaping his throat as he tastes the sauce. "Damn, Buck. I take everything back. That's good."

Bucky opens his mouth to speak but stops as someone clears their throat behind them, causing them both to spin around.

"Tony wasn't kidding." Clint tells them, his arms crossed as he studies the scene before him.

"It's not like that Clint." Steve protests, looking towards Bucky for backup, but the assassin is deliberately avoiding his gaze.

"Sure it isn't." Clint shoots them a smug grin before turning to walk away, glancing over his shoulder briefly as he moves. "Play nice boys."

"Why does everyone in this tower thing we're fucking? And why didn't you back me up?" Steve grumbles as soon as Clint has left.

Bucky finally turns back towards him, giving him a one armed shrug.

"It's none of their business what we do. Ignore them." Bucky states simply.

"I don't want them spreading stuff that isn't true, Buck. Stark's the biggest gossip in New York and I have no wish to be on the cover of US Weekly." Steve complains.

"I quite like US Weekly." Bucky snipes playfully, winking at the other man and licking the rest of the sauce of the spoon in a distinctly seductive way as he bumps Steve's hip with his own.

Steve glares at him. "You're enjoying this."

"It's not often the great Captain America is flustered." Bucky admits.

"I hate you." Steve shakes his head and Bucky just laughs.

"No you don't."

Steve doesn't. He could never hate him and Bucky knows that.

The bastard.


3.

"What are we watching?" Steve asks, collapsing onto one of Tony's plush sofas, legs outstretched with his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him.

"We are watching The Lovely Bones when your good friend finally decides to grace us with his presence." Tony tells him, looking up from the piece of circuit board he is tampering with.

"Where even is Bucky?" Natasha asks, "I haven't seen him all day."

Steve shrugs absently. "He went for a run this morning but I haven't seen him since he came back."

"Hey, JARVIS, could you tell us where Bucky is?" Tony asks, his concentration returning to the metal in front of him.

"No need, I'm here." Bucky's voice is rough, gravelly and unusually void of emotion.

Steve's head swivels to look at him, taking in the sight of Bucky's pale face and messy hair.

He moves to stand up but Bucky waves his hand in a sit down gesture. "No, it's okay. Stay there."

"You look like hell, Buck. Are you okay?" Steve asks as Bucky hovers beside the couch.

"I just.." Bucky grimaces and then shakes his head, seeming to find articulating his feelings difficult before he states simply, "memories."

"You got a migraine again?" Steve watches as Bucky worries at his tangled hair.

"Yeah, I just need to.." Bucky looks torn and Steve knows that he hates being alone at times like this. Especially after the onset of new memories, most of which lately seems to be based on his time held captive by HYDRA. The nightmares were always the worst at times like this.

"Come here and lie down," Steve tells him, pulling a cushion into his lap and watching the evident relief on Bucky's face. "You can watch the movie and eat when the pizza gets here if you feel better."

Bucky makes a noncommittal noise as he settles onto the couch with his head in Steve's lap.

"You lovebirds okay over there?" Natasha calls, raising an eyebrow as Steve begins to card his fingers through Bucky's hair.

"Fuck off." Came Bucky's low reply, for once not finding humour in the situation.

The ex-soviet sighs as Steve untangles his hair and massages his scalp gently, closing his eyes and focusing only on the other man's touch, taking comfort in the closeness of their bodies as he hears the opening credits of the film.

Eventually Bucky shifts, the light from the TV seeping through his eyelids and hurting his eyes and he turns over, pressing his face into Steve's stomach, the Cap's hands stilling for a moment, careful not to pull Bucky's hair before resuming their ministrations once Bucky settles.

Steve looks down at Bucky, the assassin's face pressed into his stomach, forehead relaxing as his breathing evens out and the blonde man feels a rush of protectiveness towards his best friend. He knew that the retrieval of memories is sometimes painful for Bucky, sometimes Bucky would sink to the floor holding his head and begging for them to stop whatever terror he was reliving. Them being the HYDRA scientists. The first time it had happened, the time Bucky had remembered being wiped, being held down as they scrambled his brains, taking away any semblance of the person he'd used to be, Steve had been scared half to death seeing Bucky writhing in pain and begging for it to stop. Begging for it all to end.

Nowadays, pain isn't something that Bucky's body reacts to, so when he is reduced to hysterical sobs and pleading, Steve knows that whatever pain he's feeling is utterly unimaginable.

Steve makes to move his hand from Bucky's hair, not wanting to disturb him, when Bucky's metal arm reaches out to gently clasp Steve's wrist, pulling it back towards his head, and, with a small smile, Steve starts to scratch his fingers against Bucky's scalp again.

"Since when did you adopt a cat, Cap?" Starks asks with a smirk.

Steve shakes his head minutely, looking up and seeing the faces of all the Avengers staring at them, some in concern, some with a smirk.

"He doesn't sleep so good when he's like this." Steve admits quietly. "Nightmares. And the flashbacks give him migraines. Any sleep he can get is a victory."

That's an understatement and all the team know it. Usually Bucky sleeps for an hour or so before waking up either panicking, in pain or throwing up as though emptying his stomach will rid him of the horrors he's faced.

"Just admit it to each other and move on." Clint tells him, motioning between them.

Steve frowns, shaking his head again, neither a refusal nor a denial.

Clint and Tony roll their eyes and turn back towards the TV, Natasha looks at them thoughtfully for a moment before she too turns her head, Bruce smiling slightly as he pretends to be engrossed in the film.

Steve's gaze returns to Bucky's sleeping face, void of any stress or worry lines and totally relaxed in his sleep in a way that it could never be when the ex-assassin was awake and he too smiles fondly, rubbing his thumb along one of Bucky's cheekbones.

Bucky shifts subconsciously, moving into the touch before nuzzling his face against Steve's stomach and in that moment Steve realises just how far gone for Bucky he is.

He really is screwed.


4.

Bucky grunts, his hair plastered to his face with sweat as he swings his fist once again at the punch bag. Steve braces himself, holding the bag still as Bucky hits punch after punch without speaking, knowing that this is something he needs to let out.

He's been on edge all day, recalling snippets of a memory that is taking what seems like forever to fully reveal itself and Steve knows that he doesn't want to talk.

They've been at it for nearly three hours when Bucky finally collapses onto the mats with an annoyed but exhausted growl, pushing his hair back off of his face with his metal hand. His flesh hand bloody even beneath the wraps.

Steve flops down beside him, arms and shoulders burning from exertion.

"That was some workout, Bucky." He comments lightly.

Bucky growls again, frustrated, and turns to look at Steve, eyes ablaze with unexpressed annoyance. "It's right there. I feel like I can grab it but every time I try it moves further away."

"Maybe you should stop trying for a while. Find something to take your mind off it?" Steve suggests, shrugging the shoulder that he isn't using to prop up his head.

"I thought that this would do it. I really did." Bucky admits. "I was annoyed and I thought that this might have given me some relief. Should have known that it would be too simple."

Steve snorts slightly as Bucky rubs his hand across his face, leaving a strand of hair stuck to his cheek.

"Hey, you got something.." he trails off, leaning over to pull the hair away from Bucky's face, his fingers brushing against the other man's cheek and leaving red there as Bucky blushes slightly.

"When are you two just going to kiss and get it over with?" Natasha's voice rings out. "I thought you were working out your sexual frustration in here."

The Russian walks out from behind one of the larger machines by the door, smirking at having caught them off guard.

"xотеть смотреть?" Bucky says, slipping easily into Russian as Steve looks on, confused.

"всегда, Barnes." Natasha replies, crossing her arms a grin reaching her face.

"I'm still here you know, guys, still not fluent in Russian." Steve raises his hand and looks between them. "What are you saying?"

Natasha winks. "Wouldn't you like to know? Play nice boys."

"You should spend less time with Clint." Steve calls out as she turns to walk away. "That's exactly what he said."

Natasha laughs and waves her hand in a dismissive gesture as she struts out of the room.

"What did you say to her?" Steve turns to Bucky who smiles at him.

"I asked her if she'd like to watch." Bucky tells him.

Steve narrows his eyes suspiciously. "And what was her answer?"

"She said always." Bucky says, flexing his metal arm as a look of horror crosses Steve's face.

"Natasha's list of kinks is not a thing I'd ever like to think about." Steve shakes his head.

Bucky laughs freely. "I would imagine there isn't many things Natasha isn't up for."

Steve hums in agreement and shifts, pushing up onto his feet. "I'm going for a shower."

"Cold one?" Bucky asks, feigning sarcasm but Steve detects an intonation of worry that confuses him.

"No asshole. Natasha isn't my type." Steve replies, nudging Bucky gently with his foot. "You can go shower too. In your own room, where no one else can accuse us of sleeping together."

Bucky laughs again and Steve decides that he likes, no, loves, that noise.

"Whatever, Stevie. Wouldn't want people knowing you actually have sex. Ruin your rep as a good boy." Bucky raises an eyebrow in an almost challenging gesture.

"That's definitely what it is. Not at all the fact that body odour is not something I like." Steve replies, holding out his hand to pull Bucky to pull the other man to his feet.

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but.." Bucky pretends to sniff Steve before scrunching his nose up in a way that Steve can only refer to as damn adorable.

"You're an asshole."

"You love me."

"I think you're an asshole." Steve repeats.

Bucky smiles. "Punk."

"Jerk."


5.

"Captain Rogers." Steve is woken by the sound of JARVIS.

"Yeah, JARVIS?" he replies, wiping sleep out of his eyes.

"Sergeant Barnes is.." the AI starts, but as Steve's eyes adjust to the low light in the room, he spots the figure hovering by the door and doesn't hear the rest of the sentence.

"Bucky?" Steve asks, and when the figure doesn't move or reply JARVIS flicks on the lights.

Bucky looks wrecked, his eyes wide and afraid, arms folded and tense, as though prepared for an attack, hair sticking to his forehead from sweat and he is shaking all over, his breathing shallow and laboured.

"Fuck, Bucky? What the hell happened?" Steve climbs out of bed, moving towards the other man cautiously, wary of what might happen if Bucky were to startle when he is in this frame of mind.

Bucky steps away from him, shaking his head. "No, I.. no."

Steve stops where he is and speaks softly, "what's wrong Buck?"

"I tried to kill you," he states, "you and Nat and Sam. On the bridge. I tried to kill you all."

Steve flinches and opens his mouth to speak but doesn't get the chance as Bucky turns towards him, still shaking all over and his eyes wide and panicked. "Don't say that it wasn't my fault. I still did it whether it was my fault or not. You could have died Steve and I would have done it. I shot Nat. I remember. I shot her in the shoulder when she was running away from me."

"Bucky, you," Steve stops, trying to think of a way to phrase it without hurting Bucky even more. "You were brainwashed Buck. If they'd have told you to blow up the universe I'm pretty sure you would have. I know that's no comfort to you, but you weren't you. They made you into a machine by torturing you and then conditioning you to do whatever they wanted. Yes it was your body that carried out the order, but you wouldn't blame a gun for shooting someone, would you? You'd blame the person firing the gun. You were just the gun that Pierce used to get what he wanted."

Steve takes a step forward, palms facing upwards and moving towards Bucky as though he were a frightened animal.

"What if I do it again, Steve?" Bucky's voice is barely audible as he looks at Steve, the anguish clear on his face. "I've done it before, they could do it again. What if they gave the order to kill you now? I'm a weapon, not a person."

"That's not true, Buck, and you know it. They used you as a weapon, kept you like that by taking away everything that made you, you. You're getting your memories back now. You know what's right and wrong. I couldn't have this conversation with the winter soldier that I first met. It'll take some time, but you'll get there. You are getting there. Buck you've come on so much since the hellicarrier. You're incredible." Steve continues to move forward, speaking softly and eventually he is close enough to touch Bucky's arm.

Bucky flinches slightly but then turns towards Steve, his hands reaching out to clutch Steve's shirt. "I can't do this, Steve. I can't. I can't wake up wondering where I am, whether this is all a dream and if I'm back at the bank with HYDRA. I can't, god, everything hurt, I can't, I can't.."

Bucky trails off, his breath catching in his throat and his eyes widen as he struggles to draw a breath.

"Shit, Bucky, come on." Steve pulls him towards the bed gently, sitting him down onto it and pulling him into his embrace. "Shh, Bucky it's okay, it's okay. You're safe."

Bucky's breathing hitches again and the ex-assassin chokes around a sob as he clings to Steve, pressing his face into the blonde man's chest.

"Bucky I need you to try to calm down okay? I need you to listen to me, Bucky can you hear me?" Steve asks, waiting until he feels Bucky nod against his chest before continuing. "Bucky you're having a panic attack and I need you to listen to me. I need you to breathe. Focus on me okay? Focus on me and try to breathe with me."

Steve takes a deep breath and holds it for a few seconds before exhaling lengthily. "Can you copy that Buck?"

He feels Bucky breathe in and exhale, shallowly and quickly, but it's something. "Okay Buck, that's great, I'm so proud of you, now I need you to do it again okay? Copy my breathing." Steve repeats his actions, stroking Bucky's back in soothing circles and he is rewarded by Bucky's inhale.

Steve feels the silent sobs racking through Bucky's body as his body fights to suck in air, the action creating more panic and fuelling the attack further.

"Again." Steve tells him, repeating the motions and feeling Bucky's response.

Slowly, slowly, Steve feels Bucky's breathing becoming deeper, the other man still sobbing, Steve can feel his tears soaking the front of his shirt but he doesn't care as long as Bucky is coming out of the panic attack. He doesn't know how long they sit there and the length of time doesn't matter.

"I'm sorry." Bucky sobs eventually. "God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Steve."

He takes a deep breath and looks up at Steve.

"You don't have to be sorry Bucky. Hell, never be sorry for coming to me with anything." Steve touches the other man's face gently, pleased that the shaking has lessened to only a slight tremor.

Bucky nods and let's out a shaky breath. "I don't know what happened. I just couldn't get it out of my head and I had to find you and then I couldn't breath and.."

He takes another deep breath, holding it for the count of four before exhaling again. "And I just needed to make sure you were safe, that I wasn't dreaming."

"You're not dreaming, Buck. I'm safe, you're safe. Everything is okay." Steve tells him, looking into his eyes as he shifts. "Now come one, see if you can go back to sleep. It'll look better in the morning."

"I should go," Bucky mutters, his words opposing his actions as he allows Steve to push him down onto the bed, the blonde man settling beside him and wrapping his arms around him, pulling Bucky's head against his chest.

Bucky knows he normally would protest about being mother-henned, but right now, he can't bring himself to care. He feels totally drained, tired from when he woke up and now more so as the adrenaline leaves him and he curls into Steve's embrace, taking comfort from the hand running up and down his back.

"It's okay, Buck." Steve tells him softly, pressing his face into Bucky's brown hair.

"Thank you." Bucky mutters, feeling the vibrations of his own voice against Steve's chest and he snakes his metal arm around the other man's waist, closing his eyes and allowing his exhaustion to consume him.

"Hey JARVIS? Where are our two lovebirds this morning?" Tony asks, noting Steve and Bucky's absence during breakfast.

"Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes are asleep in Captain Rogers' room, Sir. Sergeant Barnes had nightmare." Came the AI's reply.

Tony raises his eyebrows and glances towards Clint whose spoon has frozen half way to his mouth.

"J, is everything okay now?" Tony asks.

"Yes sir, Captain Rogers managed to calm him down."

"Good," Tony nods before smiling at Clint. "I believe I'm going to be right."

Clint shakes his head. "Not a chance, they're both too emotionally constipated to admit it any time soon."

"We shall see." Tony states, grabbing a slice of toast and walking away, shooting Clint a smirk as he leaves.


+1

"Hey, Buck." Steve smiles as the soldier sidles into the room.

"Hey. What you reading?" Bucky asks, sitting next to the blonde man, leaning on Steve's thigh to peer at the book Steve has resting on his knee.

"The Book Thief," Steve tells him, "it's about the war, but from a German point of view. About a little girl who is given away by a communist mother to a German couple."

Bucky grimaces. "Does that not bring back awful memories?

"Nah Buck, they were just as much victims as we were, the government gave the order and the people suffer for it." Steve replies, shifting to wrap an arm around Bucky's shoulder, stroking the top of his left arm as Bucky presses his side against Steve's thigh, Bucky's shoulder tucking under Steve's arm comfortably as he reads the blurb of the book Steve is holding.

"I know that, just," Bucky sighs, crinkling his nose childishly, "I know."

Steve laughs, "we're not in the midst of the war any more."

"I hadn't noticed," Bucky deadpans, resting his chin on Steve's chest as he looks up at the other soldier.

"Really? And why is that?" Steve raises one eyebrow playfully.

"Things are still at war, only, instead of it being countries, it's just people in general. Everyone hates each other. People are at war with their next-door neighbours. There's not the same sense of community that there used to be. I remember knowing everyone in my building back in Brooklyn. Every single person. Sure I didn't like all of them, but I still knew em'. Things aren't like that any more. Everything is online, on the internet. People look at their phones more than they do the people in their lives and I'm not sure if I like it. Everyone wants to be someone else. I've been someone else not by choice and it makes me feel sick."

Bucky feels Steve sigh under his chin. "I know Buck. Things are totally different now, but in some ways they're better. Things are better with people now. Can you imagine the way Sam would have been treated had we known him in our time? Being black was like a crime. Things have changed. You can be gay and it's acceptable now. Well, mostly."

Bucky looks thoughtful at that, but then nods in agreement, as though letting the conversation go. "I like Sam."

"I know you do. Everyone likes Sam. It's pretty difficult not to like Sam." Steve tells him, nudging him with his shoulder gently. "As long as you still like me the best."

Bucky laughs as Steve winks down at him, smiling widely. "Yes, big baby, you're still my favourite. Now that I finally remember mostly everything I can actually say that."

"Yeah, the whole killing thing, I wasn't so keen on that stage in our relationship." Steve admits,

"Steve, can I, ask," Bucky pauses, "can I ask you a question? You said that I should just say anything I have on my mind."

Steve waits as Bucky stops, waiting for him to collect this thoughts. This is a huge step for Bucky, being able to express what he thinks or wants without the fear of punishment and Steve isn't about to interrupt that.

"I, I don't want to be one of you. Just yet. I know I'm living here but I don't want to be part of your team. Not now. Maybe not ever?" Bucky's face is tense, as though waiting for an explosion. "I'm not ready right now and I don't know if I can ever be without being that person again. Until I know that I won't lose control no matter what happens.."

The ex-assassin breaks off and shakes his head slightly, looking like a kicked puppy.

"I can leave if you want me to. I'm not an Avenger, I have no right to be here. You can say it and I'll go. I don't want to be underfoot and useless."

Steve feels his chest tighten at the anguish he sees in Bucky's eyes but also the pain that he feels in his chest at the thought of Bucky leaving, of Bucky not being there every day.

"Fuck, Bucky." Steve starts, pulling Bucky up into a sitting position so they're both facing each other with Steve clutching at Bucky's forearms. "Bucky I would never want that. God. I never want you to leave. I always want you around whether you decide to join the team or become a fucking pixie. It doesn't matter to any of us if you never want to join us; we aren't keeping you around because we think you'd be useful. You're here because I, we, want you here. You're my best friend Bucky. If you want to leave then I won't stop you, but please, never think that I only want you here to be on the team. I want you here because you're you, Buck. You're my best friend."

He repeats the last line, shaking Bucky gently, as if trying to make him believe it.

"But why?" Bucky asks, his face constricting with pain. "I'm broken. I've done bad things. Fuck, so many bad things that I can't even count. I can't even watch a movie without panicking. I can't be the same Bucky that you knew."

"And I don't want you to. I don't want you to try to be someone you think that I think you are. Be Bucky. Be who you think you are. I'm not the same Steve as you knew before the war and I can never go back to that person, but you still like me right? I'm still your friend?" Steve speaks quickly, desperately, hating the pain on Bucky's face.

How long has he been thinking about this, Steve wonders.

"Of course you're still my friend." Bucky says. "You're Steve."

"And you're Bucky. You're still James Buchanan Barnes, the person who acts like a joker but secretly loves science and technology and used to drag me out to meet girls even though I knew they weren't interested in me." Steve looks into Bucky's eyes, his voice choked as he speaks.

Bucky falters again. "Steve, I, Steve, what if I don't drag you out to meet girls anymore? What if I'm the person who isn't interested in girls anymore?"

He looks up at Steve through his eyelashes, the kicked puppy look returning, as though waiting for Steve to judge him. As though waiting for this to be the final straw for Steve and expecting to be sent packing.

"Then you're Bucky who doesn't like girls. You're Bucky who is interested in whomever or whatever he wants to be." Steve assures him with a small smile that Bucky finally returns. "Bucky, I want you to be here. I don't want you to leave, I don't care if you're gay or bisexual or asexual or you don't want to be part of the Avengers. I don't care. I just want you to stay. I need you to stay."

Bucky's smile slowly grows wider; his shoulders still tense, but relaxing. "Really?"

"Really, really." Steve tells him, his hands stroking up and down Bucky's forearms in a way that he hopes is soothing.

"What if, you knew the person I liked, loved?"

Steve feels disappointment rising in his throat, a feeling that he has no right to feel. Bucky isn't his. He had no right to feel jealous of the person Bucky had chosen. He fights to keep his face straight.

"Then I'd say congratulations to that person," Steve says, "and I hope that you and that person will be very happy."

"What if, that person isn't gay? What if he already knows that I kinda love him, but I don't think he feels the same?" Bucky doesn't break eye contact with Steve as he speaks, his voice hesitant and unsure now.

"What?" Steve asks, his hands freezing in place. "Buck?"

He expects an explanation from Bucky, words being what the ex-assassin has fallen back on since his time as the Winter Soldier. Words had been denied to him for so long that he used them more now. Felt the need to explain himself more, as though acting without talking through it first was dangerous, which is why it takes Steve by surprise when Bucky leans forward and presses his lips against Steve's in a ghost of a kiss.

Bucky moves back an inch and waits, his eyes boring into Steve's, pleading with him not to end this. Pleading with him not to be disgusted. But Steve has no intention of ruining the moment. His hands come up to cradle Bucky's face, thumbs running over Bucky's cheekbones as he captures his mouth once more, this kiss deeper, needier, as Steve tries to convey all his feelings towards Bucky through it.

Steve feels Bucky grin beneath his lips, gasping for a breath, forming words against Steve's mouth. "Really?"

"Til' the end of the line. God Bucky, I love you." Steve looks deep into the other man's eyes.

Bucky smiles and Steve wishes that he could capture that smile and keep it forever. "I love you too, Steven Grant Rogers."

And then his mouth is back on Steve's, needy and desperate, his hands roaming along the expanse of Steve's chest as he pushes Steve backwards into the sofa, coming to rest between Steve's thighs, their chests aligned.

"Fuck, Bucky. Are you sure?" Steve asks, breaking the kiss for a moment to make sure that the other man is okay with the latest developments.

"Yes, Steve. God, yes. I have never been more okay with anything in my life. Are you?" Bucky counters, breathless.

"Yes. Get back down here." Steve tells him, his hands finding the gap between Bucky's shirt and jeans, feeling the heat of the skin there as he pushes the other man's shirt up, his hands sliding upwards, pulling the shirt with him.

He looks at Bucky, as though asking for permission and receiving an indignant smirk in response as Bucky pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his bare chest. Steve studies it for a moment, before flipping them over, Bucky now underneath him as Steve leans down to kiss his chest, his sternum, where his flesh moulds into the metal of his arm and the scar tissue there. Bucky's breath momentarily catches in his throat and Steve pauses, continuing when Bucky mumbles a muffled, "I'm fine."

As Steve continues his ministrations he feels Bucky's hands slide under his own shirt, pulling it over his head to allow Bucky access to Steve's chest.

"Fuck Steve, you're so beautiful." Bucky tells him as he looks at the blonde man appreciatively.

"So are you, Buck." Steve smiles slightly, capturing Bucky's mouth and nipping at his bottom lip playfully, the action making Bucky moan and press his hips up against Steve's thigh.

"Easy, Buck." Steve sooths against Bucky's mouth, his hand stroking Bucky's stomach gently. "I've got you."

"I, God, I feel like a teenager again." Bucky admits, spreading his legs to try and relieve the pressure he feels there, not helped by the tightness of his jeans.

Steve chuckles against Bucky's neck, where he has started to kiss, and the vibrations go straight to Bucky's half hard cock, making him squirm uncomfortably.

"Holy hell!" they both freeze at the exclamation, turning towards the door as Tony covers his eyes.

"Don't you knock?" Bucky snaps, his hand resting on the back of Steve's neck as the Captain hides his face against Bucky's shoulder in embarrassment.

"Don't you lock the doors, Jesus!" Tony retreats out of the door. "Clint so owes me more than fifty bucks for this. Fuck!"

Steve and Bucky watch him go before turning back to each other.

"Where were we?" Steve asks with a smirk, his mouth moving to worry at one of Bucky's nipples, hands holding the other man down gently as Bucky tries to arch up into his mouth.

"Steve, fuck, seriously, I won't.. I'm not going to last long, please." Bucky begs, fingers working against the buttons on the blonde man's jeans.

"I know, me neither." Steve nods, sitting back on his haunches to give Bucky better access to his jeans as well as to give him access to Bucky's, his hands quickly opening the clasp and freeing Bucky's cock, earning him a relieved moan as cool air meets sensitive skin. "There you go, Buck."

He feels Bucky finally succeed at opening his jeans, felt the relief as he too is freed, but waits for Bucky to make the first move, not wanting to rush him or move too far too quickly.

"Please Steve," Bucky begs, pushing his hips up into the other man's hands. "Will you, I need you to touch me."

"It's okay Buck," Steve says soothingly, his hand reaching down, running his fingers over the head of Bucky's cock, the other man's hips stuttering as he does so.

"Don't tease. I can't." Bucky shakes his head, fingers clutching at Steve's jeans.

Steve takes Bucky in one hand, stroking slowly along his length, marvelling in how Bucky's face twists, the brunet's hands spasming, trying to grip something, trying to find purchase as Steve sets a leisurely pace, dragging out low moans and cries from the man beneath him.

"Oh god." Bucky moans as Steve leans down to kiss along his navel and the hair of his happy trail, dragging his teeth lightly over Bucky's skin as he goes, still jerking him off steadily, savouring the feeling of Bucky coming apart beneath him. "Shit, Steve."

Steve smirks, moving up to capture Bucky's mouth, silencing his pleas with his tongue as Bucky's fingers scratch down Steve's back, moving to grip Steve's cock in his flesh hand.

"I'm sorry if this is bad, I'm out of practice." Bucky says breathlessly, breaking away from the kiss to watch as he begins to jerk Steve off. The angle is awkward but Bucky twists his wrist slightly in a way he knows that he enjoys and is rewarded with a low, guttural moan from Steve that nearly has him coming then and there. He repeats the motion, Steve's forehead coming to rest on his shoulder, lips mouthing at Bucky's collarbone as he arches his back into Bucky's touch, both of them jerking the other off at a slow pace until finally Bucky is so close that he can't bear it any longer.

"Please Steve, please, I can't, I need you to," Bucky begs, unable to string a sentence together, drawling a smirk from Steve.

Asshole, Bucky thinks as he increases his speed on Steve's dick in the hope that he'll do the same. Thankfully he does and within seconds Bucky is spilling all over Steve's hand and stomach, mouth open in a silent moan, toes curling in pleasure as Steve follows him over the edge a few seconds later, crying out Bucky's name as he does.

It takes a few minutes for them to come down, Steve having collapsed on top of Bucky, both men breathing heavily.

"Shit, Steve." Bucky speaks first. "That was incredible. I'm sorry I couldn't last longer."

Steve smiles, capturing the ex-assassin's mouth in a sweet kiss before pulling away. "It was perfect, you were perfect Buck."

Bucky's cheeks flare red as he rubs his cheek gently against Steve's head. "Thank you, Steve."

"Don't thank me like I got nothing out of this. You were amazing." Steve replies, wiping his hand on his jeans before tracing circles on Bucky's chest with his fingers.

Bucky smiles. "No, thank you. For everything. Seriously."

Steve looks up at him, sighing happily, "I'm with you til' the end of the line pal."

"Punk." Bucky jokes, angling his head towards Steve's.

Steve smirks, meeting him half way with a kiss, loving the taste of Bucky on his mouth. It feels like coming home and Steve thinks that he never wants to lose this feeling ever again. Never wants to lose the man in his arms, not after everything they've been through to get here. Bucky tilts his head to nip at Steve's lower lip.

"Jerk."


Fin.

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