TRIGGER WARNING: There are two scenes where the characters talk about homophobia. There are no graphic descriptions, but it might make you feel a little uncomfortable.
N/A: I'm sorry for the delay, this week has been wild! The good news is I found a beta reader! I don't know if she's gonna beta the following chapters (especially because she's not in this fandom), but for this one I think she did a very good job. That being said, let's all thank Giu for this huge favor!
Buck Barnes was eleven when he first realized he wasn't like the other boys. He had a few friends he knew since kindergarten, and until then they all seemed pretty uninterested when the subject was girls. They didn't like to play with girls, or talk to girls, or do anything they considered to be girly. Some of them had older sisters who they all agreed were silly. Bucky was the only one who had a younger sister, but since she was just one year old, there wasn't much to talk about her.
All of a sudden, those opinions started to change. One day, Gilmore Hodge said he had a surprise for the boys in his backpack, but couldn't say what it was until there were no adults close; so in their break time, Bucky, Hodge and two other boys hid in one of the empty classrooms and Hodge finally showed something none of them had never seen before: a Tijuana bible. It was a comic book with only eight pages and small enough to fit in a grown man's pocket. This one in particular was a parody of the Etta Kett comic strip they all knew from the newspapers.
The first page seemed very normal and it got the boys rolling their eyes and saying they expected something more interesting. But when Hodge turned the page, there was a image of Etta with her legs spread and the boy's fingers disappearing in the space between her legs. Hodge smiled proudly as the three other boys were almost fighting to get their hands on the comic book, but once Bucky took a good look at it, he wasn't as interested as the others. His friends talked about the drawing itself, curious about what would it look like between a lady's legs in real life, about how would it be to touch female breasts… All Bucky cared about was the funny end, when Etta's father asks "How is it I catch you fucking my daughter?" and her boyfriend answers "I's wonderful."
Later that year, the other boys started bringing other dirty stuff they found hidden on their respective homes. Most of them was pictures of real women in revealing clothes, some of them showing a breast or wearing transparent fabrics, some of them bending over furniture. Bucky saw a few but never understood why his friends were so amazed about female bodies. After a few times, he stopped attending those secret meetings to hang out with Steve, the way he did before Hodge brought the first Tijuana bible.
When Bucky was twelve, his friends started to show interest about kissing girls. More than that, some girls showed interest about kissing him. He always ignored them, of course. The thought of his lips touching a girl's seemed a little gross, even more when he heard Hodge saying something about tongues. When Bucky asked his mother what a late bloomer was, he just assumed the expression fitted him just right. Until he met Mike.
Mike McNamara was the same age as Bucky and moved to Brooklyn when he was fifteen. They first met after a Sunday mass, when Mike left the church and found Bucky leaning against the huge doorframe, with an unlit cigarette between his lips, looking for a match on his pocket while waiting for his mother and father to finish whatever conversation they were having with someone he didn't know. Mr. McNamara was also entertained in a conversation with someone, so Mike leaned besides Bucky and smiled to him.
"Aren't you the piano guy?" Mike asked, already handling a match to Bucky, who accepted it with a smile.
Bucky had his eyes glued to Mike as he lit his cigarette, and it was like something had snapped inside of his head. The other boy was just a little shorter than him, a little skinny but not as much as Steve, although the blue eyes matched Bucky's best friend, and he had bright red hair. It wasn't the first time Bucky though another fella was beautiful and couldn't stop starring at him, but something about Mike prevented him from being ashamed from this amazement.
"Indeed I am." Bucky answered just after blowing a little smoke to the sky. He never intended to give Mike a flirting smile, but he did it anyway. "I'm Bucky. Never saw you here." He offered his right hand for Mike to shake and was just a little impressed about how soft his skin was.
"Mike. Just moved from Bronx."
They got along easily that day, and were both glad to know they'd be attending the same school. However, even though Bucky did his best to make Mike feel included, they didn't get close at first. Mike would hang out with some boys from his history class, and Bucky was always too busy being with Steve. Even if they didn't talk every day, Bucky never failed to be astonished whenever he saw Mike smiling, or frowning at his math lessons, or even breathing. It made him feel confused, scared and even a little sick, but there was no denying: Bucky felt attracted to Mike.
He never said anything. Not to Steve, not even to himself. It was a feeling he kept locked inside of his heart and his mind and never let it scape. Because it scared him to death, because it explained why he never wanted to kiss a dame.
On a cold night of December, when Sarah was working the night shift and Bucky shared the Murphy bed with Steve to keep them both warmer, he felt his heart race more than ever. It always happened whenever he felt those skinny arms around his waist or that warm breath on the back of his neck, but it was Steve… Steve, his best friend in the world, the guy he loved as if he was his own flesh and blood… But if he could have sinful thoughts about Mike, how could his love for Steve be as innocent as he always believed? Bucky spent that night awake, trying to keep as far away from Steve as possible and praying to God to get that perversion out of his head.
Two days later, he kissed Mike.
It was a Saturday afternoon and Mike's father wasn't home, so he invited Bucky to hang out. It was awkward because Bucky had never been to a friend's house before, Steve being the only exception, so he didn't know what to do. With Steve, he would just sit in a corner with his guitar and pop gums until Steve was throwing pencils on his head and telling him to stop. With Mike, he didn't even know how to start conversation without external influence.
Once Mike realized they were doomed to an awkward silence, he asked if Bucky played card. When Bucky said no, he decided to teach him Piquet. By the middle of the first round, they were laughing and teasing each other. When Bucky lost, he demanded a rematch and swore Mike would face a shameful defeat… Which he didn't.
It didn't take long before Bucky was tired of losing, so they decided to sit on the couch and just chat instead. The subject changed from jokes to some personal stuff, until Bucky felt comfortable enough to ask something he'd been thinking since he first spoke to Mike.
"Why did you move?"
That made Mike lower his head and take a deep breath. Bucky instantly deduced that he shouldn't have touched the subject, but before he could say anything Mike looked at him with a very serious expression.
"Can I trust you?" He asked very quietly, just above a whisper, but didn't give time for an answer. "I mean, I know we're friends or… sort of… It's just… I want to tell you. But if you tell anyone, I'll be in real trouble."
"I won't tell." Bucky promised without a second thought. He could be many things, but gossipy wasn't one of them and would never be.
"Ok." Mike took a very deep breath and bit his own lip before talking. "I had this friend… and we were very close. Too close, you know what I mean?"
Bucky just frowned and shrugged. He thought about Steve, but there was no scenario in his head to make him understand how a friendship could be the trigger to make someone move out.
"I mean I loved him more than I should." At that, Bucky's eyes went wide and he almost chocked on his own breath. He couldn't stand the fact that he himself had a crush on a guy, much less being in love with one… or saying it out loud to someone he didn't even know that well.
"A neighbor saw us kissing." Mike continued with his head down, struggling with the words, his voice quieter enough for Bucky to hear the shame on it. If he was ashamed of kissing the other boy or of being caught, there was no way to tell. "He told my dad… told everyone, actually. My dad beat the hell out of me." He chuckled with no humor, and finally dared to look at Bucky again. "When I was bruised enough, he tried to fix it and tell everyone I was just a kid and didn't know what I was doing, but people would still look at me and call me a fairy. So we just had to get out of there, and Brooklyn was the further we could afford to go."
Bucky didn't say a word. Couldn't find his voice, couldn't think about what to say. He just sat there, staring at this fella he had been thinking about every single day for months and felt his heart sink on his chest. Before that, he never had a chance to really talk to Mike, to know what he hid under the easy laughter and light jokes. In that moment, he could do nothing but admire him and all he saw was the bravest man he had ever known. He felt like a coward for denying what was so obvious, when Mike took what he wanted, paid the price for it and still was brave enough to not bury the subject. Bucky just wished he could be like him.
"Please say something." Mike begged, not even trying to hide how afraid he was of Bucky's reaction. "I understand if you want to go away and never talk to me again, but… Just say something, please."
Words still failed Bucky, even if he opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to find them. Then Mike licked his lips in that way that usually made Bucky pray for forgiveness, but not that time. That time he didn't fight his impulses, he just leaned forward until his lips touched someone else's for the first time. Mike's lips were soft, warm, and it didn't matter if it was too obvious he was frozen, it made Bucky's heart race like never before. Until Mike pushed him.
"I… Um… I'm glad you don't have a problem with that but…"
"Shut up, I wanted to do that for months." Bucky interrupted and pulled Mike to kiss him again, finding no resistance this time.
When their lips parted, Bucky found out that having someone else's tongue inside his mouth wasn't even near as gross as he expected. It was warm, and good, and it felt right. For the first time he didn't pray to God to make him stop thinking about other boys. For the first time, he didn't feel ashamed of what he wanted.
Of course it changed the next day, at the Sunday mass.
The new day brought the news about a man who was killed overnight. He left home to have a few drinks, and hours later was on his knees, in front of another fella in the alley behind the bar. Five other men walked down the street when they hear some suspicious sounds and decided to investigate. The man who was on his knees couldn't stand all the punches and kicks. The other one woke up cuffed on a hospital bed.
Bucky heard that story at the kitchen table, as his mother put eggs on his plate and his five-year-old sister played with her food. His father didn't seem bothered to say such things in front of a child, and if his mother thought otherwise she never said anything. As for Bucky, all he could think of was it could have been Mike, if he had done more than just kissing that fella from Bronx or even if he and Bucky had been caught the previous day. Still, when he thought about that kiss there was no regret in the memory.
It changed at church, when the priest started to talk about how tragic that event was. He wasn't sad about the death itself though, but for the path both men had chosen. He spoke of how the Devil tempts people, and how faith could have saved them if they had just listened. Still, there was Bucky, sitting in front of a piano next to a Catholic altar, listening to a priest just like he did three times a week and looking at Jesus Christ pined on a cross.
He believed. He belied in the Lord and his Son above anything. He believed the Holy Bible and the words the priest said, but at that moment it all felt so wrong it made him feel sick. So he dared to look at the people on the benches, and the first thing his eyes caught was Mike's red hair. Mike had his head so low the hair was the only thing visible, but somehow Bucky knew he was trying not to cry. Maybe because he felt the moisture on his own eyes, as the priest kept going and going and going… Still, all he wanted to do was stand up, wrap his arms around Mike and tell him to stop listening to that bullshit. Because it had to be bullshit, it just had to…
However, even after the mass ended he never had a chance to check if Mike was ok. When he finally got out of the church, his friend was already by the end of the street and he couldn't just run to him with no explanation.
"Ma said she's in the mood for a cake, wanna come over?" Steve asked from his side. Bucky didn't know how long he had been there, but it didn't matter. It was good to hear his voice, especially when it gave him the chance to stay away from his dad for a few more hours and avoid more conversation about fags being killed.
"Yeah, sure." He said without looking at Steve, and left to tell his own mother that he wouldn't go home with them.
Bucky was quiet all the way to the Rogers residence. Even after Sarah took another way to go to the market and left him to walk alone with Steve, he kept his hands on his pockets and didn't say a word. Steve looked at him a little worried, but he also kept quiet until he closed his apartment door.
"What's wrong?" He asked before Bucky could take off his coat.
Bucky couldn't help but notice that Steve knew him so well that he didn't even had to ask if he was fine, he just knew it. Still, he tried to lie.
"S nothing." He murmured and he lay on the couch, half of his legs hanging off the furniture.
Steve sighed heavily and lifted Bucky's head to sit beneath it, making his own legs a pillow. He ran his fingers through his friend's hair, and Bucky closed his eyes to the nice touch.
"Ma 's gonna be here soon, so if you don't tell me now you'll have to brood it until tomorrow."
Bucky threw an arm over his eyes and shook his head. There was no way he could tell Steve why he was so upset, and there was nothing Steve could do about it. Still, he was already brooding it. He felt his thoughts eat his guts and spit it out with no mercy, so he fought his fear and sat up to look his best friend in the eyes.
"Do you honestly believe what he said? The priest?" He asked before he could stop the words. Maybe it wasn't the best way to start it, but it was already too late to take it back.
"Well… He is a priest." Steve pondered with a shrug.
"No, I mean… What he said about the man who died. You honestly believed he had it coming?"
A moment of silence, and Bucky already regretted saying something. Steve frowned and the engines inside his head were almost audible, still there was no way to tell what he was thinking.
"No." He finally answered. "I kept thinking about that prostitute Jesus saved, you know?" Suddenly Steve looked as upset as Bucky was, as if he'd been wanting to tell the priest to shut up and it physically hurt to hold it back. Knowing Steve, he knew how much effort his silence took.
"You think someone can go to hell for being with another fella?" Bucky rested his head against the back of the couch and looked at the ceiling, questioning for the first time ever. He heard Steve change next to him but didn't dare to look. Still, he felt the weight of a pair of blue eyes over him.
"Don't you?" Steve whispered with so much kindness it made Bucky close his eyes and take a deep breath. Would he still be this kind if he knew? Would he still sit to close and let him share his bed when it was too cold to sleep alone? Suddenly Bucky felt how difficult it was for Mike to tell him, and he admired him even more. He felt like a coward for not having this strength, even when it was Steve asking.
"I don't know." He admitted. "They didn't hurt anyone, still people hurt them. No one dies from two punches, Steve… they suffered." Finally, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Steve again. His friend was sad, as sad as Bucky himself. "Isn't murder a sin? Why no one calls them murders?"
Steve looked like he was trying to find the right answer, but truth is: he was studying Bucky's face. The one thing he liked to do the most was drawing, and he was good with faces. He was used to read expressions, analyze every curve of a face to reproduce it faithfully on a piece of paper. He knew how to read a person better than anyone they knew. Bucky couldn't help feeling naked when Steve looked at him like that.
"You're hiding something. Or there's something you don't know how to say… Do you know one of the aggressors?" Bucky smiled as he shook his head, because Steve could be awesome at reading people, but was terrible at guessing. "The man who died, then? Or the one in the hospital?"
"I can't tell you." He interrupted before Steve ran out of options.
"You tell me everything."
With a heavy sigh, Bucky got up just because he couldn't stand being so close to Steve. He had to turn away, to get rid of the weight of those eyes… Still, the kitchen in front of them was the further he could go in such a small apartment, so he served himself a glass of water and drank it like a shot of tequila.
"Not everything."
"Well, that's new… I tell you everything." Bucky turned to look at Steve, leaning against the sink, his arms crossed over his chest. "I mean, not that you have to tell me… But you know you can trust me, right?"
"Yeah, you'd probably hate me and I don't want that, so let's drop it, ok?" He looked at his own feet as if it would make Steve forget about their conversation. He just wished Sarah would come in and ask them to help her with the cake, but the universe wasn't so kind.
"I'd never hate you. But if you wanna drop it, we'll drop it."
Bucky was able to keep his worries to himself for two more days. He didn't talk about it to Mike, since they didn't see each other without the company of others at school, but he felt relieved when he noticed he seemed well. They exchanged some flirty looks when their friends weren't looking and dared to hold hands under the lunch table, but besides that nothing changed.
It was a cold Wednesday when Bucky found himself at Steve's again. Sarah was working the night shift and he went there to spend the night as always. He knew there was no need, but the boys would never complain about each other's company. Above all, it made Bucky feel that everything was normal again, with no secrets and no bad news about strangers.
After dinner, when the Murphy bed was already lowered and Steve sat in there with a sketchbook over his lap, Bucky didn't hesitate to sit by his side. Steve didn't move or reacted to his presence, so he got real close to his friend's ear and popped his gum as loud as he could. Steve jumped and hit him with the sketchbook, as Bucky laughed and tried to keep his friend away.
"Jerk." Steve cursed before going back to his sketch.
Bucky smiled and left him to claim his own spot on the couch. It wasn't until he was ready to say goodnight that Steve looked at him with a deep frown.
"You know it's like 40 degrees outside, right?" He asked, putting the sketchbook aside.
"So?" Bucky stared at him, a little nervous because he knew where it was going.
"You always sleep in the bed when it's this cold."
And that was it. Bucky had been afraid Steve would ask for this, but he couldn't just slip under his best friend's covers and not tell him what was going on. It wasn't fair and Steve had the right to know, but… Screw it, he thought. It didn't matter if he was afraid, Steve had the right to know. So he sat up and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and a heavy look on his face.
"Remember when I said I don't tell you everything?" Steve nodded once, before moving to sit on the bed, mirroring Bucky's position. "There's just one thing I didn't tell you, but I need to. You have the right to know."
Steve shook his head and took Bucky's hands in his own.
"No, you don't." He said firmly, looking deep into his eyes. "You can, but I won't die if you don't tell me or anything."
Bucky allowed himself to tangle his fingers with Steve's, observing how their fingers fit together as if he wanted to print it on his brain.
"I kissed someone last Sunday… a fella." He looked up at Steve and waited for him to untangle their fingers, but Steve didn't move, so Bucky continued. "I… had never kissed anyone before… You know that. I always thought kissing girls was kind of gross, actually, but with him it wasn't."
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Bucky dared to stroke the back of Steve's hands and felt relieved when Steve squeezed his lightly. It had to be a good sign, still Bucky was too afraid of what would happen next.
"Are you a queer?" Steve finally asked. The apartment was dark, but when Bucky nodded, he could swear he saw his friend's face become a little sad. "Come to bed, Bucky, it's too cold."
After that, Steve finally let go of Bucky's hands and lay on the mattress with his back turned to him. Bucky hesitated, but lay behind Steve as far as the small bed would allow him. After a few minutes, Steve moved to press his back against Bucky and held his hand over his own chest. He pulled Bucky's arm around himself, asking his friend to hold him harder and he did it without a second thought. When Bucky kissed Steve's hair, he smiled and kissed Bucky's hand.
"I'd never hate you, brother." Steve murmured, already sounding as if he was about to fall asleep. "You're the best guy I know."
"Thanks." Bucky whispered on his ear and pulled him even closer.
