To Run My Fingers Through Your Hair
Sometimes Steve Rogers could still not believe it: that Bucky Barnes was alive. Even now, as he was sleeping beside him, he was afraid that it was just a dream that would fade with the morning light. But the sun was already rising, its warm rays falling into the bedroom and on Bucky's face - and he was still there. His chest moved gently with every breath he took as he was sleeping, his slightly parted lips pulled into something resembling a smile, his cheeks flushed with that healthy glow sported by men who had a good night's sleep. Everything about him was just so full of life, almost defiantly so, like even his unconscious body rebelled against the fact that Death should have rightfully claimed him decades ago.
There had been no nightmares tonight, no desperate words uttered in Russian or German or a language Steve didn't understand. It had almost been like Brooklyn, if Steve allowed himself to believe it. Bucky was almost like he remembered him - maybe a few more lines around the eyes, and with longer hair - but the man sleeping beside him now was undeniably his childhood friend, and not the ex-assassin.
Bucky let out a content little moan as he stretched his body out on the bed, and Steve realized it must have been a rare occurrence for him to do something because it simply felt good, which made Steve just want to hug him for all eternity.
"You were watching me," Bucky said sleepily, looking at Steve with half-open eyes.
"Yes," Steve said simply and smiled at him.
"Uh-huh," Bucky said as he smiled back. "Like anything you see?"
Now that there? That was unmistakably Bucky. That cocky brazenness had always been something Steve had admired, and what made Bucky so popular with the ladies. Even now, with his taller, more muscular body - Steve Rogers would not dare be that forward.
Well, he could try.
"I like everything I see," he said and it made Bucky's face light up with a smile.
"You're too easy, Steve Rogers."
Bucky reached out to touch Steve's cheek with his real hand and Steve leaned in gently to kiss it.
"So, were you thinking of all the wicked things you'll do to me?"
"Maybe," Steve said as he tried to act playful. He moved closer to Bucky and wrapped his arm around his waist.
"Liar liar, pants on fire," Bucky grinned. He was still drawling somewhat sleepily and that old Brooklyn accent was coming through. "It shows on your face, Steve. But nice distracting move, I'll give you that."
Steve kissed him on the cheek, and then made his way to the side of his neck, making Bucky purr. But that did not change his stubborn nature.
"Nuh-uh, Rogers. It's not gonna be that easy. Spit it out."
Steve sighed; scared the truth might ruin the moment.
"I was thinking..."
"Dear Lord, Captain America was thinking...now we're really in trouble."
"I was talking, you jerk," Steve pretended offense and swatted a pillow at Bucky. The latter laughed with a mischievous sparkle in his eye.
"Sorry, Capt'n, do go on..."
"I was thinking about the ways in which you're the same as when we were in Brooklyn...and the ways in which you're different."
Steve looked at Bucky, slightly cautiously, not wanting to trigger bad memories or unpleasant thoughts.
Bucky's eyes were fully open now, and Steve felt like that look could pierce into the very depths of his soul.
"See, I was right. It's way too early for these thoughts. Told you you were trouble."
"I'm sorry,..."Steve started but Bucky cut him off with a kiss right on the lips.
"I'm a big boy, Stevie. I can handle it. Really."
His metal fingers reached for Steve's lips and brushed them with a precision that was truly impressive for any prosthetic.
"Well I'd say the big shiny metal arm would be a dead giveaway," Bucky said.
Steve wrapped his fingers around the silver-colored wrist gently and kissed that hand as he had kissed the other minutes before. He knew the sensation was different for Bucky, but it was important to Steve, somehow, to love touching both hands equally.
"I wasn't even thinking about that," Steve said.
Bucky studied his face intently, cocked his head slightly, and looked at him with curiosity.
"Well,wadda ya know. That's actually the truth. So what did you notice that's so different about me?"
"The hair, mostly," Steve confessed.
"What," Bucky laughed, "Not 1940's enough for you? Would you rather I cut it? Maybe get a three-piece suit while I'm at it. And practice saying "gee" and "golly"?"
Steve stroked Bucky's brown tresses and kissed him again.
"Nah, I decided I like the hair. Though I certainly wouldn't mind you in a three-piece suit."
"Well, golly, Capt'n, you'll make me blush."
Their lips locked again and lingered this time, as Bucky playfully bit Steve's bottom lip.
Steve nuzzled along his cheek, then moved up to bury his face in Bucky's hair.
"Hmm, you really do like it, don't you, Rogers?"
Steve answered by breathing in the smell of Bucky's hair, then kissing his neck, which caused Bucky to release a little moan and bite his lower lip.
"I'll take that as a yes," Bucky grinned, "really I should have known you'd like it. I remember you used to like to braid my sister's hair."
Steve pulled away, feigning shock. "Really, out of all the things you could remember, you remember that one?"
Bucky grabbed Steve's shoulder and pulled him near again, so they were facing each other.
"I remember more every day, including the way you used to look at me."
With that, he leaned into another kiss, amused at catching Steve off-guard.
"So tell me, sugar pie, would you like to braid my hair? I mean, now's your chance. Maybe I'll go back to wearing it short."
"Oh don't you dare," Steve said as he ran his fingers through Bucky's hair.
Bucky sat up straight on the bed, looking at Steve mischievously.
"C'mon then, I dare you."
Steve moved behind him, kissing the nape of Bucky's neck. Bucky smiled at the touch, leaning into Steve's kiss.
Steve reached for the hair brush on the night stand and started to untangle Bucky's messy tresses with it.
"See, if you had told me I'd be doing this in the future when we were seventeen I'd have laughed at you."
"If I had told you we'd both come back from the dead in the 21st century as super soldiers, not looking a day over 25, you'd have taken my temperature and asked if I had a fever," Bucky retorted, "Doesn't make it less true, though."
Steve started entangling Bucky hair into a French braid, starting at the top.
"Honestly, Buck, I'm not sure America is ready for this."
Bucky actually snorted as uninhibited laughter came from his mouth.
"America's not ready? I disagree; I think America would be charmed and amused. But, I'll play nice and not post any pictures on your Facebook fan page."
"Really, the way you've gotten comfortable with social media scares me," Steve said as he used his fingers expertly to divide the tresses in three equally thick parts, as he interlaced it with the hair still hanging down.
"Well, I'm a cyborg now. I gotta keep up my reputation, Steve. Besides, I sort of like pictures. They're proof that you were somewhere, did something. That it was real."
Steve stopped braiding for a minute to place a kiss on Bucky's shoulder.
"You take as many photographs as you like, sweetheart."
"Sweetheart? Are we doing terms of endearment now, Sugar Pie?"
"Well," Steve said with a smirk as he continued braiding, "I think if you're on a hair braiding basis with people, you might as well use terms of endearment. That and the whole kissing thing. By the way, you started it."
"Steve Rogers, when did you get so forward?", Bucky grinned.
He started to turn to kiss Steve, but he protested.
"Wait, don't move, you'll mess up the braid!"
Bucky was incredibly amused by the dedication Steve seemed to put into the task.
"Ay aye, Captain."
Steve finished the braid expertly, and tied it off with a rubber band at the end.
"There, all done".
Bucky jumped off the bed and stood before the bedroom mirror, admiring Steve's handiwork. His face lit up.
"You know, Steve, if this Avenger gig doesn't work out, you can always try being a hairdresser."
"Oh shut up".
"No, I mean it, I'm not even kidding - this is better than some professionals."
Steve just shook his head and laughed, baffled by how surreal his domestic life had become.
As Bucky got back into bed and straddled him, Steve looked up at him almost reverently. He was thankful for every day that Bucky was with him, and he sure as hell intended to show it.
"So," Bucky said as his lips drew neared to Steve, "since you did such a good job, Captain, why don't you come and claim your reward?"
As Bucky's mouth met Steve's hungrily, he wouldn't trade this for anything, not in a million years.