"Finally, I was beginning to think you had abandoned me," Howard says when Bucky comes in, locking the door.
"And miss my last night?" Bucky smirks. Their eyes meet and Bucky's smirk widens to a lecherous grin. "Nice suit."
"You look very fine yourself, soldier." Howard comes slowly nearer, his eyes never leaving Bucky's.
"Sergeant," Bucky corrects him.
"You look very fine, Sergeant Barnes."
"The girls certainly think so." Bucky grins, hooking his fingers into Howard's belt loops to draw him closer.
"Do they now?" Howard murmurs before closing the distance between them with a kiss, his hands coming up to make a mess of Bucky's carefully slicked back hair.
Bucky groans when Howard's lips leave his to attack his neck.
"Last night on earth Sergeant, what do you want?" Howard asks quietly against Bucky's skin.
"I want everything," Bucky replies breathlessly, voice so full of desire that it makes Howard shiver.
/
One goodbye kiss turns into fifty and they wind up in bed again, stripping off clothes they just put back on.
"Be careful out there", Howard says between kisses that neither of them wanted to stop.
"You, too", Bucky whispers, his hands making a mess of Howards freshly combed hair. At the moment London isn't any safer than Italy. He wishes he could keep Howard away from this just like Steve who fortunately won't be accepted by any recruitment bureau.
"Why can't you be a pilot?" Howard sighs, opening the buttons on Bucky's shirt for a third time.
"Why can't you be a soldier?" Bucky asks back, going for Howard's belt. Maybe they should give up on putting their clothes back on after each time and stay in bed until morning comes. But then Bucky likes the look on Howard's face when he slides his shirt over his shoulders. It makes Bucky think in terms of bad poetry.
This is goodbye. This is their final definite goodbye until the war ends or…
He doesn't want to think about it. Instead he concentrates on the here and now, craning his neck when Howard kisses him there and pushing him back on the bed. He takes his time to map Howard's skin with his hands and mouth, drawing patterns with his tongue against his rips and the dip of his hip bones.
/
Morning comes all too soon. The sun starts to peak through the curtains of Howard's hotel room even though it feels as if the night just started minutes ago. They haven't slept for a single moment. After goodbye number four they gave up on putting their clothes back on and simply remained in bed, lying close and talking softly until the need to be closer overwhelmed them again.
"Let's never leave this room again," Howard says from where he's lying on Bucky's chest.
"I need to go soon."
"No, you don't. I'll tell them that you're essential for my wellbeing and they cannot possibly order you from my side."
"That'll go over well", Bucky says dryly and runs his hand through Howard's messy hair.
"You've got a better plan?"
"We'll get through this and then we'll see what happens."
Howard shifts slightly so he can look at Bucky. "That's your plan?"
"Yeah, if you don't like it come up with a better one. You're the genius here."
"No, it's a good plan. Now you just need to come back alive."
"So do you." Bucky knows that Howard will be in London and that bombs fall there as much as rain. Neither of them is safe. The selfish part of him wants them both to die if they cannot make it out alive.
"You're not getting rid of me that easily." The smile that lights Howard's face is warm and it feels like a promise, shared just between the two of them.