(The authors are aware that 'The Wizard of Oz' came out in 1939, at least the one we're referring to did.)-PennyStarling17
The '40s (Pre Captain America)
Bucky sighed as he walked home, hand pulling at the collar of his shirt. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell Steve about this.
Steve watched the steady flow of new soldiers exit the registration tent. He craned his next around the tall, broad-shouldered man in front of him, waiting to go in. Was that Bucky? He waved.
Bucky froze when he saw Steve waving at him. Hiding his card behind his back, he walked over.
"Hey stranger," Steve greeted him once he was within earshot.
Bucky offered him a strained smile. "Hey pal. Anything new?"
"I got a date," Steve gave him a thumbs up. "...with Uncle Sam!"
Bucky couldn't stop the laugh that came out of him mouth, face lighting up.
Steve laughed too. The men in line on either side of him looked slightly annoyed, though he didn't care.
"What's that?" he asked when the chuckles subsided.
Bucky wiped tears from his eyes and asked, slightly out of breath, "What's what?"
Steve peaked around Bucky. "That thing behind your back."
Bucky paled suddenly, shifting to hide his card. "I'll- uh. I'll see you at home, Steve." He shot off, quickly disappearing into the crowd.
"Alright... See you..." Steve called after him. They had always shared secrets before, what was it that Bucky couldn't show him?
"Oi," the man behind him grunted.
"Oh, sorry, sir," Steve apologized. He moved up in the line, thoughts back on enlistment.
Bucky sighed heavily as he sat down on his bed, eyes on the enlistment card. How the hell was he going to break it to Steve?
Steve walked dejectedly out of the tent, heading home. He had failed his physical. He wasn't fit to fight for his country. What was he going to tell Bucky?
Bucky set the timer on the oven to 20 minutes, hoping Steve would be home in time to get some of the casserole while it was still hot. It was one of the few things Bucky knew how to cook and he knew how much Steve liked it. It might help soften the blow.
The smell of casserole warmed the home when Steve entered. Had Bucky made it to celebrate? Steve clutched his weak arms to himself, not feeling hungry for the first time in months.
Bucky turned at the door opening. "Steve?"
"Hey Bucky," Steve dropped his arms and walked stiffly to the kitchen. "Smells good in here."
Bucky offered a weak smile. "Thanks. I thought it was about time I cooked something for you."
"That's great, thanks!" Steve managed a smile. He would tell him about his failed attempt at joining the army after they ate. He didn't want to ruin Bucky's kind gesture.
Bucky offered a bowl and spoon to Steve, smile falling flat. How was he suppose to tell Steve he was leaving him alone?
Steve accepted the bowl. Maybe he was hungry after all.
"Anything exciting happen to you today?" he asked, digging in.
"Nothing too good," Bucky answered honestly. "What about you? How'd registration go?"
Dang it. "Oh, that?" Steve shoveled some casserole into his mouth and chewed with a purpose, stalling while he organized his words. "It, um, didn't work out." He swallowed nervously
Bucky left out a breath in relief. He didn't like the thought of those damn Nazis shooting at Steve. He placed his hand over his obviously upset friend's hand. "It's alright, Steve," Bucky murmured.
Steve looked up. Bucky didn't look angry or anything, but now that he thought about it, that reaction would have been ridiculous.
"I guess so," Steve said. "It's just, well, I don't know exactly how to say this..."
Bucky rose an eyebrow. "How to say what?"
"Um," Steve continued. "The doc at registration told me I'd fit better in a dress than a uniform." He felt a flush spread on the tips of his ears.
"He said what?!" Bucky saw red. "That bastard!" He shot up, murder in his eyes. Bucky, who knew Steve better than anyone else in the world, could see how much not being able to enlist hurt Steve and then some jerk of a doctor dared to tell him...
"Which doctor was it?" Bucky's voice was deadly.
Steve put his hands in front him, motioning for Bucky to calm down.
"It doesn't matter who it was!" he said. "I'll, um, buff up and, yeah, that'll show 'em...!"
He didn't want Bucky to go on a rampage, which he looked about ready to do.
"That doesn't matter Steve!" Bucky exploded. "Nobody's got the damned right to say something like that to you!"
Even, Bucky thought absently, if it is true.
"It doesn't matter what you look like," he repeated. "No one's allowed to talk to you like that."
Warmth swelled in his chest. "Thanks, Bucky," Steve's smile was genuine. "When you say things like that, it makes me wonder why none of the broads have snatched you up yet."
Bucky let out a breath, still not really willing to let the subject go. But the sight of Steve's smile made him sit back down.
He shrugged. "Guess I haven't really been looking for a dame in a while."
"Bet you'd be swimming in 'em if you joined the army," Steve joked. "The propaganda says so."
"Maybe that's why I haven't been looking," Bucky offered absently, not really paying attention, thoughts still on finding the doctor who said those things to Steve. "It's bad enough that I'm leaving you."
He jerked back when he realized what he had just said. "Steve-"
Something inside him cracked. "You're... leaving?"
Bucky's eyes were wide. "Steve, that's not how I was going to, I mean, yeah, but- dammit." He ran his hands through his hair.
"Hey, that's- that's great," Steve didn't know what to do. "You got in. You get to fight for freedom. That's... great." He realized he was dead panning. He should be happy for Bucky. Why was this swiftly turning into the worst day ever?
Bucky flinched at Steve's tone. Turning, he caught hold of his wrist and pleaded, "Steve... I just," he released his wrist and hung his head. "I didn't know how to tell you."
"It's fine," Steve assured him. He placed his other hand on top of Bucky's and squeezed it gently. "Let's do something. Go to the movies or, I don't know. We should try to make this day have something good in it."
Bucky sighed (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately) and squeezed Steve's hand. "Whatever you want, Stevie."
Steve dragged Bucky down the street to the theater. Scraping up a couple of dimes hadn't been hard since Steve's new job, sewing overseer, paid a decent amount. Looking Bucky in the eye, however, wasn't nearly as easy.
Bucky followed Steve easily, happy to do anything to make him smile. His thoughts, though, were still on the asshole doctor who embarrassed Steve after rejecting him.
''When I get my hands on him...'' Bucky muttered under his breath darkly.
"Did you say something?" Steve asked, looking back briefly. He almost ran into someone in the process.
Bucky caught his arm and pulled him out of the way in time and answered quickly, "Nope. Not a thing."
"I must be hearing things," Steve laughed nervously, shuffling away.
Bucky didn't let go of his arm. "You ok, Steve?" he asked, worry creasing his brows. "Are you feeling ok?"
Steve coughed awkwardly. "I'm fine," he said. "I'm, ah, in a hurry to get there is all."
Bucky frowned. "We've got plenty of time, the movie doesn't start till seven and it's only," he glanced at his watch. "Six."
"Right," Steve nodded. "No rush." He put his hands in his pockets. Why was he feeling so anxious? This might be their last time doing something like this together, he should want it to /last/. He concentrated on slowing his walking pace.
Bucky frowned again, but willingly followed his friend.
The posters outside the theater were brighter than before the war. Much more red, white, and blue. Steve smiled at heroic images and gestured Bucky closer so he could admire them with him.
Bucky rolled his eyes as he shuffled closer, brushing his shoulder against Steve's.
Steve felt content with Bucky's broad shoulders blocking the wind. A gregarious blonde man in the ticket booth knocked on the glass. "You guys buying or not?"
Bucky glanced at Steve before quickly stepping in front of him, pulling out his wallet. "Two tickets for the Wizard of Oz," he said, paying before Steve had a chance to protest.
Steve had told him how much he had wanted to see it.
The ticket man accepted the money and handed back a few nickels as change. He chatted with himself all the while.
"There aren't any way-neat heroes in that one," he said, referring to the movie choice, "but you'll enjoy it." He winked at Steve.
"Um, thanks?" Bucky offered as he took his change, hand moving towards Steve.
Steve ignored the blonde guy and grabbed the front of Bucky's jacket, pulling him into the theater. As they left, the blonde readjusted his glasses and shrugged. People just didn't know a hero when they saw one.
Bucky shifted out of Steve's grip only to grab him by the sleeve and pull him to the center of the theater. He plopped down, pulling Steve down too.
The clunky theater chair was comfy but lopsided. Even though there was no one else in the theater yet, Steve felt the need to whisper.
"Did you see that guy? He was flirting with you, I swear."
Bucky choked on the air he was breathing in. He whipped around to stare at Steve. "What the hell are you talking about?!"
Steve was the picture of honesty. "I don't know, he winked...! Only old guys hitting on flappers do that."
Bucky stared at Steve like he had grown a second head. He repeated, "What the hell are you talking about?!"
"Oh," Steve said, feeling a little stupid. "I must have been imagining it."
Bucky stared at him for a second before leaning back in his seat. To distract himself from wondering what was wrong with Steve, he entertained thoughts of finding the doctor that had made that comment to Steve. He chuckled to himself darkly, staring straight ahead.
"You'll have to write, you know," Steve said abruptly. "When you're away."
Bucky was torn away from his thoughts about tearing apart the doctor. His eyes softened. "Course I will." He paused. "You know I have some time before going to Basic, right? Then I'll be back for a while and we can have some nights on the town. Just the two of us, yeah?"
Steve grinned ear to ear. "Whew, I was thinking this would be the last time I'd see you," he admitted, relaxing back into the musty seat.
Bucky gently bumped his shoulder against Steve's. "We got time, Stevie." They were silent for a minute before Bucky asked carefully, "So the doctor..."
Steve gave Bucky a confused look. "I guess I'd forgotten about that," his lip twitched.
"Who am I kidding, I'd probably cuss him out if I saw him again," he grinned like it was the most rebellious thing he'd ever thought of.
Bucky offered him a tight grin, trying not to think about how much he did not want Steve to ever see that asshole again. "Which doctor was he?" Bucky asked as subtly as he could, not looking at Steve.
"Gee, I don't know," Steve contemplated. The clicks of the movie reel being put on could be heard from the back. There still wasn't anyone else in the theater. "Why?"
Bucky shrugged and refused to answer. Maybe he could go back to the recruitment tent and figure out which one it was...
He wasn't really sure why he was so caught up on this whole thing, acting like a jealous guy whose dame had been hit on...
Wait... what?
"Bucky," Steve chuckled. "You're acting like a jealous guy protecting a dame." He smiled like it was a punch line.
Bucky choked on air again. "Get the hell out of my head, Steve," he demanded, before he realized what he had slipped out of his mouth
"Hm?" Steve blinked. His mind processed the words. "You... Think of me like a /girl/?"
The words stumbled out of Bucky's mouth before he could stop them. "I don't- it's not- I know you're not- it's-" He closed his mouth and let his head fall back, hands covering his eyes.
"I don't know anymore," he muttered.
This was certainly a development.
"I know that I was practically your housewife for a while," Steve thought out loud. "And I know I'm not the most manly... but, erm..."
Bucky shot him a horrified look before he slid down his chair and recovered his face with his hands.
"Kill me now," he pleaded.
Steve leaned over the arm rest, observing Bucky's unusual state.
"I don't- I don't mind," he said. "Hey, Bucky?" Steve tapped his friend on the shoulder.
Bucky refused to look up, to do so would be to admit that he was blushing.
Steve went ahead and said it anyway, "I don't care what you think of me, as long as you don't forget about me." He looked intently at Bucky's slumped form.
Bucky mumbled something behind his hands.
"Hey, don't be like that," Steve joked, trying to pull his hands away from his face. He was glad it was dark; he figured he had the goofiest expression on his face. Bucky was just being so...
Bucky stiffened at the feel of Steve's hands, muttering under his breath when he didn't give up on trying to pull his hands away.
"I suppose I'll have to make do," Steve sighed. He moved his hands to Bucky's shoulders and kissed his knuckles where his lips would be.
Bucky's hands fell away from his face and he pushed Steve away, acting on instinct. But instead of letting go, he held him firmly by the shoulders, staring at his narrow face, illuminated by the film playing in the background. He said nothing, eyes locked on Steve's face, thinking.
Steve's face was unbearably hot now, but he locked his eyes on Bucky, not daring to look away.
He really hoped he hadn't done something stupid.
Bucky stared at Steve for a beat before letting go, pushing back the arm rests and yanking him into his arms. He held him tightly, muttered, "Glad to know it's not just me," and then pulled away to crush his lips against Steve's.
Steve made a muffled sound of surprise at Bucky's sudden actions, but soon closed his eyes and gave in the embrace.
Bucky shifted, frustrated with the angle, and pulled Steve onto his lap. With one arm wrapped around his waist to keep him from falling off, he deepened the kiss.
Steve tentatively placed his arms around Bucky's neck, bringing the two of them as close together as he could. The lack of air was making him dizzy, or maybe that was the feeling of Bucky around him. Whatever it was, he liked the feeling of it.
Bucky carefully broke the kiss, leaning forward to place his head on Steve's shoulder. Suddenly, he sat up straight, remembering where they were. He searched around the still empty theater, tense as though expecting someone to be watching. Only slightly reassured that they were alone, Bucky shifted to carefully deposit Steve on the seat next to him, the one that placed himself between Steve and the door.
Steve was in a daze. He looked up at the movie screen, realizing it had already started. He leaned his head on Bucky's shoulder, watching the black and white image of Kansas role by.
Shifting to accommodate him, Bucky settled and placed a soft kiss against the top of Steve's head, repeating his earlier muffled words into his ear. "As if I could ever forget about you."
"You better not," Steve mumbled. "No matter how long we have to be apart, I won't forget you either."
Bucky smiled and curled closer to him, keeping an ear out to make sure they remained alone. He knew how much trouble they could get into if anybody found them but he wouldn't let anything bad happen to Steve.
On screen, the tornado began to swirl...
"Holy shit, was that a cow?" Steve whispered
Bucky held back a chuckle.
"Language," he muttered, eyes on the screen.
"You were thinking it, too," Steve pouted. The creaky farmhouse touched down and everything went still.
"Shut it and watch the damn movie," was his reply.
Steve smiled into his shoulder, eyes fixed on the screen. Dorothy walked cautiously to the front door.
Bucky's attention shifted from the screen to Steve as he felt the smile against his shoulder.
The door was gently pushed open. Steve gasped. The screen was suddenly vivid with color. The sky was bluer than he had ever known it to be. A saffron walkway stretched out in front of Dorothy. Steve's eyes reflected the brilliant colors, try as they might to soak them in.
Bucky's eyes were on Steve as his face lit up with amazement at what he was seeing, eyes wide and excited, shocked and full of wonderment.
It was one of the most beautiful things Bucky had ever had the privilege of seeing.
Steve looked up at Bucky. "Did you see /that/?" he asked breathlessly.
Bucky grinned and kissed Steve's lips lightly. "I saw it," he murmured. "And it was beautiful."