Steve Rogers had never been a good dancer.

He was a small, scrawny, uncoordinated kid with two left feet who couldn't last more than twenty minutes of dancing before his heavy breathing became suffocating. Steve didn't mind that his asthma got in the way of dancing, if anything, he was glad it gave him a reason to say no when Bucky tried to goad him into coming to the dance hall with him. It was the big things that Steve cared about. Like carrying bags of groceries down the street for multiple miles. This he could never do, so he always handed the parcels off to the strong and broad-shouldered Bucky when he began to huff and puff. No girl wanted to take a chance on a guy who could barely carry her books down the hallway for her.

Steve had always expressed himself in quieter ways anyway- art. He firmly believed a pencil and paper could convey thousands more words than he ever could, especially considering the way he tended to stumble over his speech when he talked to anyone. Anyone besides Bucky, that is.

Bucky had been by Steve's side since they were kids, but ever since Steve's mother passed, it was like they were glued together. The day of the funeral, Bucky had forcefully insisted that Steve come and live with him. Between Bucky's work down at the docks, and Steve's flimsy income of drawing cartoons for small newspapers, the two of them barely managed to pay the rent every month, just scraping enough money to get by. The apartment was cold in the winters, and the heater had a habit of breaking. The stove made strange hissing noises, and every once in a while the whole house would shake as a train passed by. But Steve wasn't homeless. He had a roof over his head. A roof he shared with his best pal, and as far as Steve was concerned, that was living the good life.

Yes, Bucky and Steve had been inseparable all their lives, but that didn't mean they didn't have their good deal of a disagreements. Steve was quiet and reserved. Bucky was loud and confident. Bucky stayed out late, drinking and dancing at bars while Steve stayed back at the apartment, waiting for Bucky to come home like he was his dame. In many ways, it bothered Steve that Bucky would leave and never say when he was coming back. Many times, Steve would wake up in the morning and find that Bucky would still not be home from a midnight excursion with a cute folly he'd picked up at a dance hall. Steve supposed it was selfish of him to be annoyed with Bucky for living. He guessed it was because all he'd ever wanted was to bring himself to do the same.

"You've gotta come tonight, Stevie," Bucky whined from the couch, where he lay on his back, long legs hanging over the sides of it.

"You know I'm no good, Buck," Steve insisted for what seemed like the thousandth time. If there were two things that scared Steve most, it was women and dancing. Bucky was simultaneously asking Steve to indulge in both.

The dance hall was always stuffy and loud, and the last time Steve could remember going, he'd thrown up in a nearby alley after only half an hour of dancing. Besides, no girl ever wanted to dance with him, and if they did, it was always at Bucky's expense. It always played out the same; Bucky would slide up to Steve with a pretty doll hanging onto his arm, and say "this is Marge, have you met her sister Lucille?" And Lucille, looking less than thrilled, would begrudgingly join Steve on the dance floor for as long as she could without screaming in frustration at Steve for stepping on her toes. And that was never a long time.

"C'mon, Steve! All you ever do is sit cooped up in here, drawing all day!" Bucky pried, moving from the couch to sit with Steve at the table.

Steve frowned, and turned to glare at Bucky. "In case you haven't noticed, my drawings help pay the rent!"

Bucky groaned and leaned back in his chair. "Just have some fun. Just for tonight!"

Steve glanced at Bucky who was smiling hopefully, hands held up in question. Steve couldn't help but grin at how foolishly childlike he looked. "You're an idiot," he muttered, still trying to fight the stupidly big smile on his face.

Bucky's eyes widened and his smile broadened in an impossibly huge way. "Is that a yes?"

Steve bit his lip, and nodded, ducking his head so Bucky wouldn't be able to see his smirk. "Jerk," he whispered, and now it was Bucky's turn to beam like an idiot.

"You know you love me, punk," Bucky said, before ruffling Steve's hair and disappearing into his room to get ready.

As soon as Bucky had left, the reality of what Steve had agreed to hit him. He couldn't go out dancing! He was already made fun of enough for his size. He couldn't bear to be laughed at for his dancing. Somehow, that dorky smile of Bucky's could make Steve do anything. He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

Twenty minutes later, Bucky was still in the bathroom putting an unlawful amount of hair gel into his brunette curls. Steve left his sandy blond hair as is, and simply put on some nice trousers, an off-white button-up, and a tie. Bucky emerged from the bathroom, hair shining, wearing neatly pressed slacks, a button-up of his own, the top three buttons undone to expose his chest. He wore no tie. Bucky may be a poor boy, but the way he dressed, you'd think he came from a wealthy family on the upper east side. Still, girls didn't mind coming home to their rickety apartment. Bucky's sharp charisma and handsome face more than made up for being poor.

Bucky seemed to notice Steve wringing his hands in anxiety, and walked over to him with a comforting smile on his face. "There's no need to be worried. You're a total catch, Steve! Any girl would be lucky to have you," Bucky said eyes shining in such an unabashedly warm way that Steve felt a bit of him melt.

Bucky squeezed his shoulder gently, holding it there for a little longer than necessary. Steve reached over to brush his fingers against Bucky's where they rested at his side, and Bucky looked up at Steve with wide eyes filled with…..Steve couldn't quite figure out what they were filled with. Steve stared at their hands, and Bucky stared back, both of them confused by the interaction.

A knock suddenly sounded on the door, and Bucky quickly withdrew his hand. He blinked, and then recomposed himself, plastering on one of his million dollar smiles. "No worries, ok? These girls we're going with? Pretty little things, both of em."

Steve tried to smile like this was a comforting thought, but really, he'd much prefer staying in and playing cards with Bucky out on the fire escape, the warm summer breeze gently ruffling their hair. His fingers still tingled from Bucky's touch, and he wondered if Bucky felt the same…...

Before Steve knew what was happening, he was being introduced to Judy and her friend Edith. Edith smiled politely at Steve and shook his hand, but he didn't miss the flicker of apprehensiveness in her eyes when she first looked at him. Bucky and Judy were already shamelessly flirting, and by the time the four of them reached the dance floor, the pair of them were at the center of the room before Steve could even blink.

"So…..," Edith said.

Steve cleared his throat and held out his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

Edith smiled in a way that Steve suspected was forced, and he led her onto the floor. A light swing jazz was playing, and he watched as couples twirled and spun across the room. Steve placed his arm around Edith's waist, and used his other to clutch her manicured hand. They started slow, with Edith glancing around in a not so discreet way as if to make sure no one she knew was watching her. Steve tried to pretend he didn't notice, and picked up their tempo.

Edith winced whenever Steve trampled on her feet, but didn't say anything about it. Despite her more than displeased looks, she was at least more polite than some of the other girls Bucky had tried to set him up with.

When the music picked up even more, Steve began to feel braver, and twirled Edith in his arms. Still not looking happy, Edith was at least easing into the dance now that Steve had. As the song came to an end, Steve watched the couples around him prepare to dip their partner. Steve reared back around, bracing himself to do the same. In one swift motion, he seized Edith around the waist and…

Edith thudded to the floor, looking horrified as multiple couples near them turned to look and laugh quietly. Steve reached to help her up, but Edith raised a hand. "Don't," she said sharply, and then said through her teeth, "It was nice to meet you Mr. Rogers, but I think I'll be going now."

Steve watched her storm out of the hall in shock, still standing cluelessly and partner-less on the dance floor. He glanced over to look at Judy and Bucky, chatting happily as they sipped their drinks. Their faces were flushed from dancing, and Steve watched as Judy laughed at something Bucky said. Steve didn't know why his gut twisted at the sight of them.

Without another thought, Steve shoved his hands into his pockets, and stepped outside. The hot breeze had cooled, and he let it blow his face as he leaned up against a lamppost. He knew Bucky would be angry that he'd left early, but he didn't want to worry about that now. Right now, all Steve wanted to do was erase the entire night from his mind, starting from the moment Judy and Edith showed up at their apartment.

Steve began walking aimlessly, and ended up in the nearby alley that he'd once thrown up in. He let his mind wander back to the feeling of Bucky's hand brushing lightly against his, and he felt his cheeks warm at the thought. He hadn't felt quite anything like that. He certainly hadn't felt such a surge of warmth and calm holding Edith's hand.

He slumped against the wall and began whistling along to the muffled song coming from the hall. After a while, he sighed, and placed his face in his hands, trying to will himself back home, in bed, not having to worry about dancing or women, or even his and Bucky's strange moment.

"Steve?" a soft voice called. A voice Steve would know anywhere. A voice Steve did not want to answer.

"Go away, Buck," Steve mumbled, and turned away from where Bucky stood.

Steve didn't need to turn to know that not only had Bucky not left, but he had moved closer. Steve felt a hand on his shoulder, and he flinched at the touch. "Steve," was all Bucky said, and Steve obliged as Bucky gently turned him to face the brunette.

"Edith told Judy and I what happened," he said slowly, and Steve could feel his face reddening partly from embarrassment and partly from anger.

"So you've come to laugh, have you?" Steve snapped, and Bucky blinked in shock.

"Why would I ever laugh at you, Stevie? You're my best pal." Bucky tugged Steve to his chest, and Steve willingly melted into the embrace.

Steve didn't care that they were 16 and 17. That he was too old to need to be held by his best friend. That he probably looked pathetic clinging to dear life over an incident that was seeming sillier and sillier by the minute. "I'm sorry, Buck," he sniffed, realizing that he had started to cry.

"Hey," bucky said, pushing back and wiping Steve's tears away with his thumb. The look on his face was so earnest and caring that Steve's tears only fell faster. Bucky wiped them all away nonetheless. "I'm the one who should be sorry, Steve. You didn't want to come and I shouldn't have forced you."

Steve nuzzled his face into Bucky's chest. "I just wish I could do normal things. I wish I was normal," he said, voice muffled from where it was pressed into Bucky's shirt.

"You are normal, Steve. You don't need no dame to tell you that."

They hugged for a few more minutes before Bucky pulled back once more, hands on Steve's shoulders and bright look in his eyes. "I could teach you."

Steve sniffed and wiped his nose. "Huh?"

"To dance," Bucky said, already reaching to slide his arm around Steve's waist. The touch made him shiver.

"No…..no, Buck. I can't. We'd look like a couple of fairies anyway," Steve insisted, trying to wriggle free from Bucky's iron grip to no avail.

"Who cares," Bucky said, joining their hands together, placing Steve's arm on the plane of his muscular shoulder.

Steve stared wide eyed at his best friend and smiled shyly and slowly. "Now," Bucky said, "We just move like this…" They began to sway slowly back and forth to the rhythm of the slow song drifting from the dance hall and out into the night.

"See? Easy."

When Bucky noticed Steve staring at his feet, focusing hard on not treading on Bucky's, the brunette placed a calloused finger under the blonde's chin, and pushed up until Steve was staring right into Bucky's eyes. "Look at me. It's ok, just look at me," he said, when Steve began to protest.

Steve nodded, closing his eyes and shuffling closer to Bucky as they moved to the right and then to the left in a lazy pattern. Bucky closed the gap between them, pressing Steve right up against him so that he could rest his head on top of Steve's blonde one. Steve felt Bucky sigh, ruffling his hair in the process, and he gripped Bucky's shirt tighter.

Soon, they were no longer swaying, but simply clinging to each other in the darkness. Bucky's smell was intoxicating- Steve couldn't stop breathing him in. Cologne. Musk. Sweat. And something sweet that Steve couldn't pinpoint but knew it was purely and wholly Bucky. Bucky. His Bucky. His Bucky who became all worried and bothered is Steve so much as coughed. His Bucky that would crawl into bed with Steve and hold the sickly boy when he had a particularly bad cold. His Bucky that would always come back to him after a night of dancing and dating. Always.

"Judy," Steve suddenly muttered, and Bucky looked at him in question. "She's probably wondering where you are."

Bucky frowned at Steve slightly, and Steve taking this as a hint to leave, turned to walk out of the alley, but something stopped him. Bucky grabbed onto his wrist and pulled him back. "Don't go," he said softly, and Steve stared wide-eyed at his friend.

"Buck-?"

In one swift motion, Bucky had pulled Steve against him and was kissing him. Kissing him in a desperate and earnest way that made Steve's head spin. Steve could tell Bucky had had a lot of practice. He was good. So good. Their lips moved together in sync, connecting with sparks of pleasure. Bucky bit down on Steve's lip causing him to whimper as Bucky moved back to push Steve up against the side of the alley. The brunette placed his hands on the wall next to either side of Steve's head, and Steve pulled at Bucky's shirt where his hands were fisted in it. Steve licked Bucky's lip in a bold move, asking for entrance, and without hesitation, Bucky opened up to him. All Steve saw was red. Pure pleasure and bliss. Bucky's lips were so soft. So soft. They made him shiver when his lips brushed teasingly along his jaw and then to his neck, where he sucked lightly. Finally, Bucky dropped his head onto Steve's shoulder, both boys panting heavily.

"That was…..," Steve began.

"Yeah," Bucky said, lifting his head up to grin at Steve who beamed back.

"Some dance lesson," Steve whistled, and Bucky laughed, nuzzling his nose into Steve's neck.

Steve folded himself against Bucky's hard yet supple body, wrapping his arms tightly around the brunette's waist. "You're a good teacher," Steve teased, and Bucky pressed a slow kiss to his temple.

"I love you, Stevie."

"I love you, Buck."

"Til the end of the line"