Summer now, and it was ever so hot.

Steve walked the two-and-a-half-mile trek back to the apartment.

By the time he got back, he was drenched in sweat.

All he wanted was a tall glass of water, and a cold shower.

He opened the door, and

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Steeeeve! Happy Birthday to you!"

Bucky sat behind their tiny table in the kitchen, where a small, badly blue-frosted cake with candles haphazardly stuck into it sat on the table.

"I thought you were working tonight."

"I lied." Bucky grinned. "Now just blow out the candles and thank me, so we can eat this, okay?"

Steve laughed and blew the candles out happily.

"Make a wish!" Bucky joked, as he cut the cake into pieces.

Steve closed his eyes and made a wish, though he knew how unlikely it was to come true.

I wish Bucky didn't have to go. Steve thought. I wish he could just stay here with me.

He opened his eyes and Bucky was grinning at him, holding out a piece of cake.

Steve took it eagerly.

"Where did you get enough sugar for this?" He asked through a mouthful.

"I bribed Mrs. Dillan down the hall for it."

"What is it with you and old ladies, and always getting what you want?"

Bucky winked.

"They can't resist my charm." He joked.

"It's delicious." Steve said, waving his fork in Bucky's direction.

Bucky tried his own piece.

"Yup, it's perfect."

Steve flicked a bit of frosting, and it landed on Bucky's face, just below his eye.

"Hey!" He laughed, brushing it off and eating it, "What was that for?"

"That's my thanks."

Bucky reached over and smeared a small piece across Steve's face.

Steve gave his best attempt to look angry, but failed miserably.

"I guess I deserved that." He said as he wiped it off.

Bucky grinned.

"I've got something else for you."

"Buck. C'mon. don't do this."

"Do what?" Bucky asked, "Spoil my best friend on his birthday? You're right, it's a scandal!"

Steve laughed.

"Good thing you're a rebel." He teased, taking another bite.

Bucky pushed a small package, wrapped in newspaper across the table.

"Open it."

Steve shook his head, but pulled it his way.

He opened it immediately.

"Oh Buck!"

Two thin sketchbooks and a few new pencils lay in the mismatched newspaper wrappings.

It had been months since Steve had actually had an entire sketchbook to himself.

Money had just been so tight lately. He had been drawing on scraps of paper, in-between lines in the newspaper, wherever he could find some space.

Bucky grinned happily at how excited Steve was over the gift.

"Wow, Bucky. Thank you!"

"I knew you'd like it." Bucky replied. "All your other ones were full."

Steve looked at him sharply.

"How did you know that?" He asked.

"You've been drawing along the edges of all my enlistment forms for the last week Steve, how could I not know?"

"Sorry."

"Oh please," Bucky's smile was evident in his voice. "They look a lot better now."

Bucky went to bed a little bit earlier that night.

Most of his days were spent at the docks, or the mechanics, working odd end jobs and helping Steve the best he could so they could pay for rent, for food, for everything they needed. He needed all the sleep he could get.

Steve peeked in on him, and smiled.

In the summer months, they took turns with the bed, and tonight was one of Bucky's. He was pushed with his back up against the wall, habitually leaving space for Steve. His mouth was curved up, and slightly open. One arm tucked beneath his chest, the other gripping the sheet that barely covered his body.

It was in this moment that Bucky looked peaceful, vulnerable even.

He seemed so calm, and though Steve adored the constant fire in his eyes, he was glad that this side of Bucky existed too.

Steve grabbed his new sketchbook, and a stub of a pencil, wanting to save the new ones for as long as possible. He crept into the room, and sat up against the opposite wall.

And he drew.