Steve's life was quite dull since the evening in Bucky's appartement. He'd never realised how much he relied on Bucky to keep him company, but now, when they didn't spend time together, he was feeling desperately lonely. He hoped he'd just been having a weird dream and he could come to Bucky's place again and everything would be alright. But he feared it was all true. He was going to work and he watched the events in Europre with increasing worry. And he felt lonely, left-out and desperate. And then, one day he walked home, gazed down on the pavement beneath his feet and he was so concentrated on his thoughts that he crashed into someone. He mumbled a quick apology and wanted to continue, but the person took his arm and made him raise his eyes. When his sight met Bucky's eyes, he yelped in surprise and blushed. His friend let go of him as soon as he had his attention and Steve moved farther from Bucky awkwardly.

„Hey, buddy," Bucky gave him a lopsided smile, „fancy a walk with me?"

Steve wanted to say no. He knew he probably should say no if he wanted to keep pretending Bucky didn't exist. But he couldn't stand carrying on with his life for the dull, blank surviving. He wanted to live and Bucky had taught him how.

„Sure," he replied. Bucky led him through familiar places, keeping conversation nice and easy, carefully avoiding anything that might cause a disagreement. Steve could be nothing but grateful and he was happy to have his Bucky back. Though, he couldn't look at him with the same eyes again as a man who once wore glasses wouldn't see well without them. Now, when Steve felt them, he wanted Bucky's kisses, touches and love and he wanted them with his heart as well as his body. All the moments he was thinking about how Bucky's skin felt under his fingers, how he drew their lips together. From time to time, they caught themselves staring at each other and Steve knew they were thinking about the same thing – how everything could be different if they could love each other.

„So, good night, Steve. It was a nice evening," Bucky smiled and dimples created in his cheeks, right above the corners of his mouth. Steve wanted to kiss everly inch of his face.

„Yeah, you too, Bucky." The smaller man replied and tried to hide his shaking hands.

„Will I see you tomorrow?" Bucky asked and tried to sound as if he wasn't pleading.

„Of course," Steve nodded, „you know, I'd love to see you anytime."

„So good night," Bucky repeated and Steve chuckled nervously. And now we would kiss clumsily, Steve thought with certain ammount of remorse.

„Good night," he answered and opened the door of the house he lived in and sneaked inside before he could lose ability to differ what he wanted from what was right. He slammed the door closed a bit too eagerly and left Bucky standing in front of his house. He climbed the stairs to his flat and ran to the bathroom to wash his face and calm down. When he did so, he went to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He stood in front of the window and looked outside.

It was completely dark out there, it was one of those chilly evenings that simply get under the collar of your coat, beneath your sweater and freezes you, no matter how warm your clothes are. Steve watched the hoarfrost on the lower part of the window and ran his finger from one side to another and watched the cold water form into droplets and fall down on the windowsill. He pressed his forehead against the cold glass and closed his eyes for a while, recalling the past hour with Bucky. He couldn't deny he wanted to forget who they were and where they were, he wanted to get what he knew belonged to him and yet there was nothing to do about it. He could only accept that everything had its price and Bucky's love was something he simply couldn't pay for.

In the meantime, Bucky was standing at the very door Steve had used to get into the house and his brain was desperately trying to find an excuse for pressing the ring button. He didn't forget to give anything to Steve, he didn't need to tell him anything. He just wanted to see him, take him into his arms and love him, but that was exactly what Steve forbid him to do. And he had to respect it.

„Steve, this is Gemma, Gemma, this is Steve, my best buddy," Bucky grinned and waved his arm between Steve and a tall, auburn-haired girl with a long nose and big grey eyes. Steve smiled at her and offered her his hand which she took and shook only to pull it away from his reach immediately. Bucky offered her his right arm and she got hold of it with giggle. Steve sighed and went after his best friend and the girl. He had lost count of Bucky's girlfriends long ago. He couldn't prove it, but he felt like Bucky was doing it on purpose, as if he was watching Steve's every movement, waiting for him to break down and finally embrace his true feelings. Steve thought it was unusually cruel and selfish of Bucky to do that and he wished he could just stop feeling hurt because of it. He wanted to hate Bucky, he wanted to say he didn't care about the row of girls that had been left behind his friend, but that would be a lie. He loved the Bucky he'd known before everything went wrong and he couldn't accept the fact that the man was long gone. He hoped that maybe if he proved Bucky he didn't care, if he didn't show his pain, the girls would leave and everything would be alright. Unfortunately for this theory, Steve was well aware of the fact that this was too far beyond the point of no return. He'd hurt Bucky's pride and this was his way to show Steve he would do anything to get his confidence back.

The only thing Rogers wanted was to turn back time and get his old friend back without all the tension, all the unspoken words and all the pretending. He longed for the simple friendship without boundaries or restraint. He wished he could look Bucky in the eye and not see a calculating wicked man who was trying hard to make him pay for something Steve couldn't influence. He wished he could believe all the girls were really Bucky's interests and not just tools in his plan for revenge. And most of all he wanted back the friend who had been helping him after he got into a fight because he didn't dare to come to Bucky's place anymore. He sewed his cuts, washed his scratches and sealed his wounds and fell asleep curled on his couch with streaks of tears on his cheeks.

„Hey, Steve, come on," Bucky shouted. Steve raised his head and caught up on his friend and Gemma who was now almost hanging on Bucky's shoulder. Steve felt sick suddenly.

„We've changed plans a bit, we're gonna go dancing, I hope you're coming too," Bucky gave Steve an innocent smile and Rogers just gaped. Bucky was really going to do anything to tear him into pieces. He knew Steve hated dancing and yet he gave him absolutely no opportunity to object. What was he trying to achieve? Steve put on an unconvincing smile and nodded, unable to say anything. He was too bemused to say anything, he couldn't belive Bucky had gone this far.

„Excellent," Bucky exclaimed merrily and bowed to the girl who giggled again. Steve hated the sound even more than he thought was possible. „so let's go, m'lady."

Steve watched the pair with increasing feeling of annoyance and hurt. They walked like they were alone, Bucky paid Steve absolutely no attention and if the girl saw through the haze of Bucky's flirting, she certainly didn't notice Steve.

They entered a club and Steve felt nauseous immediately. He hated crowded spaces, he hated dancing and he hated being left-out. Bucky dragged Gemma onto the dancing floor and Steve lost them from his sight immediately. He knew better than to try to find a partner for dancing. He was too clumsy and short to be successful. He stood there, leant against a wall and wished he could be someone else. Whoever.

He thought about getting drunk, but he didn't have enough money with him for that. Just when an idea of leaving appeared in his mind, Bucky emerge from the middle of nowhere and threw himself against the wall beside Steve.

„Enjoying yourself?" Bucky asked and Steve bit his lip. Bucky knew he wasn't having fun. Why was he doing it?

„Where's Gemma?" Steve asked instead of an answer and searched for the girl in the crowd.

„She met some friend of hers," Bucky shrugged and threw his head aback. Steve watched his strong neck covered in sweat and tried not to think too much about kissing it.

„Why are you doing this, Bucky?" Steve asked suddenly, unable to hold the question back. He couldn't stand it any longer; his ignorance was driving him insane. Bucky stopped staring at the ceiling and turned to face Steve. They watched each other and in the dim light Bucky's face was eerie and yet very attractive. Steve felt like his friend was looking gorgeous on purpose, only to make Steve feel worse.

„Doing what?" Bucky asked and didn't even try to sound innocent.

„Pretending I am nothing. You act as if you don't care about me at all. Fine, I get it. I can live without people." Steve knew he was lying. He could live without people, but he couldn't live without Bucky, the only living person who mattered to him. „But if you don't like me, just tell me. Don't drag me everywhere just because you pity me. "

„I don't pity you, Steve. I've never pitied you. You deserve me than that." Bucky replied and looked into Steve's eyes. "You deserve more than play-acting and lies."

Steve wanted to say something, wanted to object but he knew Bucky had said that sentence on purpose. He'd said it to prove Steve was wrong.

"Please, don't do this to me." Steve whispered.

"Why? Because you know I am right?" Bucky cornered him and made two small steps in front of Steve so now they stood facing each other directly and very close.

"I've told you I couldn't do it. What makes you believe I changed my mind?" Steve asked and challenged Bucky to question him.

"You haven't changed your mind," Bucky murmured alluringly, "no. You've always wanted me and I just showed you how much you want me. You don't want to share. You hated every single one of the girls I introduced you to even though some of them were really nice."

"That's not true," Steve objected weakly.

"You're lying right now and you don't even try to deny it." Bucky pointed out. "You're jealous, Steve."

They stared at each other and breathed so fast they could hear the other's chest rise and fall. Bucky checked their surroundings and found no one watching them. He smirked at Steve and leant closer to him. He kissed the shorter man roughly on the lips and moved his mouth towards Steve's ear, leaving a wet trace behind. Steve froze at the spot and just closed his eyes.

"You want me. Here," Bucky pressed one finger against Steve's forehead, "and here," he moved his hand onto the left half of Steve's chest, "and here as well." Bucky let his palm fall lower and he left warmth on Steve's chest and stomach. He rested on Steve's abdomen for a while before reaching even further. He pulled at Steve's pants and covered Steve's crotch for some time before pulling away.

"And I could let that happen, Steve. I could make us be real." Bucky whispered once more before he withdrew; he'd already risked enough. Steve was shivering and he could still feel Bucky's fingers on his body, especially the part nobody but Steve had touched before. He hesitated for some time. Bucky was so attractive, it would be so easy to give up. It must have been the right thing to do when it felt so right.

"I-I don't know. It's not right." Steve murmured silently and his voice was shaking with sobs that threatened to escape his throat. Why was he resisting? He wanted Bucky, he wanted him with all his heart and yet he was turning him down.

"Steve, look at me," Bucky whispered gently. There was no sign of the cruel and cocky man that had taken Steve to dance. This was Bucky, his Bucky, the Bucky who loved him and whom Steve loved. "Look at me and tell me what do you want."

Steve gazed at Bucky in trance and shoved his hands behind his back to hide the tremor in them. Bucky was smiling gently, but his eyes were urgent. They were nagging Steve to say something, to express his thoughts, but he could not. There were so many things that attempted to escape his trembling lips, but he held them back. He knew what he would say in the darkness of this club when Bucky was so beautiful and he was so weak.

"Come with me." Bucky grabbed Steve's lips and dragged him out of the club. Steve's mind was too clouded to care about it. He let Bucky lead him into a small dark courtyard. Steve wondered whether he had been in a fight there or not. "Nobody can see you but me now. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't want me. Do it and I promise to never ask again."

Steve stared with his eyes widened. The conflict within him was visible in his posture and face and Bucky knew what the answer would be. Not no, because Steve had never been able to say no to him. But it was more than obvious that the answer won't be a yes either. Steve stepped back and hit the wall behind him with his back.

"I can't think. I want you, Bucky. I love you." Steve babbled hastily, "But I can't love you."

"You can. It's simple." Bucky sounded very desperate.

"It's everything but simple. If I gave you what you ask for, I wouldn't only destroy myself, but you as well. If we got caught-"

"But we wouldn't." Bucky snapped. "Do you think we're the only ones? There are places for people like us. I could introduce you to some of my friends who were there. Why can't you accept it's not impossible to love each other?"

"Maybe it is possible, but it is still against the law. It's possible to kill a man and not get imprisoned and does it mean it's not against the law?" Steve asked with resolution.

"But killing a man is wrong. It's against morals but there's nothing against morality in my love for you. My love is pure." Bucky was determined not to give up.

"And if you kill a man who's killed thousands, would it be immoral? No, but it will still be a murder." Steve remarked and his eyes glistened. "If your love is pure why did you let me suffer? Why did you force me to watch you flirt with all the women?"

"It was to make you-"

"Yes, to make me see how much I want you. But that is the problem. You tried to make me." Steve cut him off. "If you really loved me, you would understand and respect my opinion. But you don't love me, Bucky. You want me, you want my body and you like to talk to me. But that's not everything. You have to accept who I am and what I believe in. If you loved me, you wouldn't press me to tell you, you would wait for me to want you as well."

"But I..." Bucky's voice broke. Steve had to look away because seeing his friend like that hurt him more than anything else. But he was sure about the words he'd said and he wasn't going to take them back.

"I'm sorry," Steve murmured, "but I can't give you my love when you're not prepared to give yours back."

"I do love you," Bucky cried.

"I'm sure you think so. But you're not sure yourself. I cannot risk your life and freedom for something you are not sure about. Good night," Steve freed himself and left before he could change his mind. Once from Bucky's sight, he began to run and he felt hot tears streaming down his face. He was sure he had done the right thing but if he had, why did it hurt so much?

Steve sobbed harshly and sniffed loudly as he ran. He tried to slow down, but running felt better. He was trying to flee from his thoughts and when he ran, he couldn't think. Cold air was filling his lungs and his chest hurt. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, his astma was slowly creeping back to take over him, but he didn't stop. He couldn't care less about what would happen to him. Nothing mattered when he'd lost Bucky forever.