AN: Steve's back and with him come some hard choices, tough conversations, and heartbreaking realisations.
Well Loves, here's the Stucky reunion you've been waiting for (I hope!). Tough decisions and proof that some things don't change, they just get put on ice for a while.
He remembered the cold. Nothing else beyond the bone chilling cold. He was stuck, he knew that. The impact didn't kill him outright, but it did kill him.
Or at least, it should have.
Beyond the cold, all he remembers then is the breeze floating through the windows in a room where he woke up. He was fully dressed, even had his boots on.
Not his boots, not his uniform, but civvies, and he felt warm. He remembered opening his eyes and the world being there again, bright and unforgiving.
He had no idea where he was.
Suddenly there was a woman, but she was lying to him, she had a tell, she was rubbing her ring fingernail against her thumb as she spoke, she was lying.
Something felt wrong.
He shouldn't be alive, awake, here. The enemy got him, was his first thought. He pushed past the woman only to be met by a man with a needle; he punched him when he got too close and made for the stairs. Agents. Men, a few women, all with guns, made a run for him but he was faster, stronger and still very confused.
But then there she was. Just standing in the crowd of people in dark suits, standing out like a candle in the darkness. She looked different, her hair was softer somehow, longer, and there were little bits of blonde in there catching the light. She wasn't like that before… before … he still had no idea how long he had been wherever it was he went.
Instead he did the one thing that felt real, that somehow grounded him to this new reality and he thought for a split second, just a second, maybe this was heaven? A very strange heaven, but a good one if she's there. He kissed her, kissed her with all the passion and want and need he felt for her, all those times he wanted to kiss her and couldn't were poured into that one kiss that made his toes tingle.
Then he found out the truth, that no, it wasn't a sort of heaven but really a sort of hell.
The world had moved on without him.
She, they, had moved on without him.
When she told him about her and Bucky, he felt as if his heart snapped in two. The idea that these two people, his two people… At first it hurt, because he was selfish and shocked. But then the second's hesitation made way to common sense. Bucky was alive, and loved. And of course they had found each other, of course they grew to leave each other, how could they not? He had loved them both, he knew how it happened. But it had been almost ten years, surely there were kids and a life in place where he didn't fit at all, never mind where he had once felt so at home? But then he learned that no, there were no kids or weddings, or anything traditional at all. He realised then, traditional was never something either of his loves was ever cut out to be, least of all Peggy. He hated that he felt relief in the knowledge that there were no kids, but for a selfish moment he also realised he wanted time with them himself to … to do what he wasn't sure, but just to be was enough in the moment.
After all shocking realisations, they settled down together, her office quiet and warm, the couch so big and comfortable, and with her sitting next to him, holding his hand in hers, the anxiety he felt since he opened his eyes slowly began to dissipate. So much so that listening to the soft lull of her voice recalling missions and stories of the past many years, he found his eyes fell shut and he must have drifted off to sleep next to her. He woke up with the sun, his arms wrapped around her front, spooning her from behind on her oversized tan leather couch, both of them fully dressed but shoeless. She was so warm and soft and she smelled so amazing that all he wanted to do was to bury his nose in her neck and drift back into that safe sleep again, but he couldn't. He had too many questions and not enough answers, and he wanted them there and then. Instead, he stirred and she gripped his hand on her stomach.
"We fell asleep," she said, groggy and quiet, and suddenly he yearned for the decade worth of mornings he could have woken up with her like that. His heart hurt before he attempted to push it down.
"We did. Won't Bucky … I mean won't he be worried?"
She sat up then, her hand smoothing down her hair self-consciously.
"No, I … no. He wasn't home when I left this morning and he hasn't called so … I don't much know what he might be thinking right now." She shrugged, standing to fix her skirt and stockings.
Steve sighed. Of course he took the news wrong, of course he panicked. Neither of them dealt very well with life changes, least of all huge ones. He recalled his own idiotic panicked reaction when Bucky informed Steve that he'd been drafted to war. He'd ran from Bucky then. Physically not far because well, how could he? But he closed himself off and made excuses, kept his distance. He couldn't believe Bucky was pulling the same shit with Peggy over him now.
"He's…"
"Not great with change, I know." She smiled then, offering him her hand and pulling him up.
"I'll order us some breakfast and we'll take you back down to the medical bay. I want them to give you the once over, and then we'll meet with Stark, discuss anything you need? We can have you set up in a SHIELD safe house temporarily, or if you'd prefer to stay here, there is–" her phone rang then, and she bent to answer it as he found his shoes. It was Stark.
"Scratch that, Stark has breakfast for us in his office, shall we?" she said with a smile, checking her makeup in the compact mirror on her desk. He couldn't help but think she looked perfect, even with a cushion crease on her cheek. They took the elevator together, ignoring the long looks from the other workers in the building as they got to the top floor. Howard's office WAS the entire top floor, which Steve thought was rather over compensating. But the man greeted him with a huge smile and a warm hug. A hug from Howard- I-Don't-Like-To-Be-Touched Stark was a rare thing, according to Peggy. They sat down to what looked like a mountain of food that for a second he questioned how there could be so much, but then he remembered, there was no war, there was no depression, they weren't in a shack in Brooklyn or in freezing tents in Italy. They were at the plush centre of Stark Enterprises, and that meant the best of the best. There was a lot of talk from Stark, a lot of talk at a great speed – he spied the large pot of coffee half empty and blamed that, but it was nice, it drowned out his own thoughts and worries for a time at least. There was talk of press, and Washington and a sit down tell all – what he had to tell was beyond him. He took a decade long nap, so far as anything else he was still reeling. Peggy seemed to sense this and managed to anchor Howard's fantastical notions enough that it gave him a week before they had to announce it to the world.
A week to find his feet sounded easier said than done.
He noticed Peggy was distracted, a far off look in her eye, a worried look that he recognised.
And Bucky still hadn't called her.
After they ate, and ate some more in Steve's case, she escorted him to the medic bay where she overlooked his files again before the doc took more blood, his blood pressure and his heart rate. Everything was shockingly normal, for him anyway. The doctors were baffled, but Peggy was beyond pleased. After everything was given the all clear once more, they took the elevator to a different floor and into a room that looked like a cell, small and with a small window, but it had a bed and wardrobe.
"I had them bring in your things; they left them here this morning," she said as she opened the double doors to take out his dress uniform and what he knew to be new sweaters and pants. They weren't his things, at least not most of them. "I think you should go see him," she blurted out, not facing him. Instead she was pretending to root through for something unknown.
"Peggy–"
"You should," she spoke again, this time with more resolve. "I think it would … I think it needs to happen sooner rather than later, Steve. He won't come here, or if he does it'll be odd… too clinical here and he hates this place–" She pursed her lips. There was a story behind that comment, he was sure of it.
"You should just go see him, talk … do whatever you need to do."
Her voice sounded foreign to him then, forced. And he wasn't so naïve as to not hear what she was really saying. His heart ached, physically it ached, and he hated that feeling. Trying to push it down he grabbed her busy hands, stopped her from folding sweaters onto the bed and enveloped her into a hug. She clung as hard as he did, and he definitely heard him sniffle.
"I can stay and we can go see him together?" He tried to smile, to coax one from her, but the one he got was sad.
"No, no … you should have time … to…" she sighed then, shaking her head. "And besides, I have work here so I can't. If he's not at the house he's at his dorm." They had discussed Bucky going back to school and he was beyond proud of that. "But it's unlikely, it's more likely that–"
"He's brooding."
She laughed then, stepping back.
"Yes, so go and snap him out of it for me?"
With that she handed him a card with her name and address and a telephone number on it. It was in Brooklyn. They lived in Brooklyn, a nicer part, for sure, but still. He smiled.
"Go see him, do … what you gotta do."
Before she stepped out of the room he called her back.
"Will I … see you later?"
She smiled then.
"Count on it."
There was a soft knock on the front door just after seven. He had spent most of the day moping and contemplating drinking, but never really getting around to it. He slept, mostly. At least in sleep his problems faded.
"Jesus Christ," Bucky let slip, taking in the sight before him after he opened the door. Steve stood there, in his full dress uniform, hat in hand and everything, a soft wistful smile to boot.
Bucky's heart clenched.
"Nah, still just me. Though we do have that whole rising from the dead thing in common, which is nifty I guess." He bounced back on his heels a little as he spoke, reminding Bucky of the kid he first met so long ago. "Can I come in at least?" Steve asked with a smile after few seconds or so of an accidental staring contest.
"Yes, I … of course." He moved out of the way and let Steve pass, the air getting knocked out of his lungs at the realisation that it was real. He was real and he was standing right there. It was as if Bucky could feel the blood pumping in his veins, like white hot fire. He clenched and unclenched his fists, resisting the urge to just reach out and touch the man he missed so dearly.
"This place is nice, nicer than we were used to before right?" Steve commented innocently, looking around at the home – and it was a home, that he shared with Peggy. Bucky felt himself grow embarrassed at the realisation.
"How'd you –"
"Peggy told me you'd probably be here, we figured it would be best to … well for me to come talk to you, since you seemed to not want to be there when I–"
"I wanted to be there." He wanted to reach out and hug Steve, hug him and never let him go ever again. But he couldn't, things were too complicated now. He didn't know where he stood. "I wanted to but … I mean I was–"
"You were?"
"I was but then there was the whole thing with you and Carter – Peggy…"
"You still call her Carter?" he asked, amused, still looking around the living room, no doubt at the photos on the wall. Scratching the back of his neck with nerves, Bucky just shrugged.
"Wait, if you were there then – oh. Bucky when I saw her I just–"
Steve's ears were red, and that provided Bucky with an odd sense of comfort. At least he wasn't the only one who was nervous.
"I didn't know that you and she–"
"Hey, no look its fine. It's, you know … she's her own woman before anything else, you know? She can do whatever she wants, always has … I mean she just … Fuck, why is this awkward?" He was starting to sweat.
"I don't know," Steve answered with a smile, taking a step closer to his friend. "It's okay, you know? Everything that you're worrying about right now? It's all gonna be okay."
He wished he believed his friend, he really did.
"You say that now, but–"
"But nothing, Buck. Come on, I've been given a second chance here, we all have."
And that set his panic buttons off at warp speed.
"No, you don't get to be okay with this, Steve."
"And why not?"
"Why not– Seriously?" Bucky snapped. The other man seemed unaffected as he just shrugged.
"Because I … we were together, Steve. Like, together, together. I wasn't just makin' time with her–"
Steve nodded before saying, "She told me," but it went unnoticed.
"I love her. I went after the woman you loved and I got to love her while you … while you–"
"Buck, it's okay."
"No, it's not!" He knew a panicked Bucky and he was standing right in front of him, turning red.
"I'm glad you loved her, and I'm glad she loved you. God knows you need as much of it as you can get."
Furrowed brows met relaxed ones.
"So you want me to get mad is that it? Mad that my best girl and my best … you … found comfort and a life with each other? That you won her heart and she won yours and she knocked some sense into you? I'm meant to be mad at how you both chose to survive?"
"YES!"
"Why? What would it solve? You want me to get pissed and hit you or something? That's never gonna happen."
Steve could see his friend crumbling before him, breath heavy and laboured, and he had to do something, so he reached out and put his cold hand on Bucky's warm face, forcing him to look at him, revelling in the familiar heat of his skin.
"Hey … you with me?"
His friend just nodded before putting his own hands on Steve's chest, gently, as if he was afraid if he pushed too much he would disappear.
"I never thought I'd see you again."
"I know, me either," he laughed, trying to lighten the mood but failing.
"I … I'm sorry."
"For what? And don't say Peggy. We know damn well she doesn't do anything - or anyone - she doesn't want to."
Bucky shook his head. The irony of the Tennessee Waltz playing on the wireless was not lost on him. He blocked it out.
"That I … that I gave up on you, I never meant to–"
"Hey… hey …" Steve grabbed his face again, this time pulling him in for a hug. The brunette hugged him hard and close, a sob escaping his lips. "It's okay … I'm here now."
"You are here. You're actually here." He felt his friend squeeze tighter, and he reciprocated because he knew what Bucky was feeling.
"I love you, Steve," he whispered into his shoulder before pulling back and wiping his reddened eyes. "I s-swore to myself if God ever let me see you again that's what I'd say. I'd say it out loud and mean it. And I do mean it. I love you. I've loved you since I can remember knowing what the word meant."
They both embraced the other again, holding onto each other, their faces buried in the others neck, just being there, allowing it to sink in, breathing in the presence of the other. It had been so long. Too long.
Steve wanted to reciprocate, and he would, but his mouth had other ideas. It landed on Bucky's harshly, but melted into a needy kiss as they both grasped at the other like drowning men to a life raft, and that, honestly, was how it felt. It would be Steve's turn this time to let a sob escape, a sob that turned moan as he felt Bucky's nails on the back of his neck, threading up into his hair.
"I missed you so goddamn much, Steve. So goddamn much."
"I … missed you too, even though for me I just saw you yesterday," he said, his laugh shy.
That in itself had to be a mind-fucking experience. Close your eyes and blink, suddenly it's almost a decade later and the world, your world, is turned upside down.
Bucky reached out, feeling the softness of Steve's short hair against his hands, knowing him better than he knew himself in some ways. He knew to scrape just a little into his scalp, and like a cat Steve keened into his touch. He felt a little part of him relax. His head felt like this was all a dream and any minute he was going to wake up.
But he didn't, and it wasn't. So he went in for another kiss, this time softer.
Steve ended the kiss, pulling back, eyes wide, pupils blown, that familiar pink tint to his cheeks, searching Bucky's face for something. Permission, maybe? Whatever it was, he got it because he dipped down to kiss him took control, using his hands, gripping Bucky's chin confidently as they kissed, slightly angling his head as he kissed and licked along his stubble filled jawline to his neck, up gently to the sensitive patch by his ear and back to his mouth. Bucky loved Steve's mouth as much as everything else. It got him into so much trouble no matter how he chose to use it.
He rolled onto his back on the couch and pulled Steve down to him, slow and gentle, giving himself a moment to savour the anticipation of it. When he could feel Steve's breath against his wet lips he tilted his chin, pressing his lips against Steve's bottom lip. He kissed Steve slowly, pulling him closer only by a millimetre and leaned back against the pillows to make Steve press into him more.
Something primal flipped with Bucky then. It was as if he was on autopilot. Nothing else mattered but the man in front of him, nothing. And so when he reached for Steve's tie, yanking it down to open it and pull it off his shirt, when he hastily unbuttoned the precision perfectly ironed shirt, when he pushed Steve against the couch and straddled him, nothing else mattered.
And it should have.
She should have.
He hadn't so much as looked at another person seriously in that way since committing to Peggy despite who he knew was looking at him, people like Jack. He loved her so much, but he also loved Steve and in that moment and the ones that followed, he wasn't thinking straight, he was thinking with his dick and the emotionally wrung out part of his brain that never in a million years imagined he would feel Steve under his fingertips again.
His brain was just chanting how badly he needed Steve. It wasn't a want any longer, it was a need, and it seemed Steve was more than willing to meet his needs, and then some.
By some miracle they made it off the couch, and up the stairs, pressed against the wall outside the main bedroom. An attack of conscience hit Bucky just long enough to say 'no' to the location at the very least. He couldn't, not in the room he shared with Peggy, not in their bed. No matter how badly he needed Steve in those moments, there were some lines even his lust addled brain seemingly wouldn't cross.
Instead, he directed them to the smaller guest room, It was smaller bed, but enough. They had had each other in much more cramped spaces than that.
Shirts, pants, boots, socks, everything between them discarded haphazardly allowed them to collapse into a heap on the bed. Kissing and rutting, pushing, pulling, biting, licking their way back to a too-hot summer in Brooklyn where they did this for the very first time as two confused but stubborn boys with dangerous hearts.
"I love you, Bucky, you know that right? I love you, have loved you since–"
He knew, he always knew, they never said it like that, never those words but other words. 'Be careful, come back,' 'please stop getting into fights, least when I'm not around,' 'sit down I'll patch up that war wound' 'you take the extra blanket, I'm not that cold .' They loved each other, but never with those three words.
Before, they weren't allowed.
Now, well, death had a way of putting things into perspective.
Steve bestrode his hips, pressing and rutting hard against Bucky, drawing a long moan from him. He grabbed at Bucky's hips and rocked against him, pulling him tight to keep the contact as close as they could. Foreheads together, lips apart and panting, each feeling as if their skin was on fire and they wanted to dance around in the flame. Bucky kissed him back until all they could do was pull back, lungs burning for air. Steve let out a small growl into the nook of Bucky's neck, before licking him from neck to earlobe, causing the brunette to moan loudly, his fingers gripping into the blonde's back.
"Tell me what you want," Steve said all low and rough and so familiar that it sent a shiver through Bucky's body, and he was powerless to stop it. He felt, where Steve was concerned, that he would always be a little powerless. He would do anything Steve asked, anything.
"You – I … need … I need you , please."
They looked each other in the eyes then, a slow nod came from Steve who then worked his way down Bucky's body, kissing, licking and nipping his way until the next sensation Bucky was vividly aware of was slick fingers probing, working him open, and then a hot, wet mouth causing him to grasp onto the sheets, to curse so loudly Jesus wept, and to see nothing but stars behind his eyes as Steve worked him open with his mouth and to a state of painful hardness with his free hand. He wished he had slick, anything, anything at all to ease what was sure to be a slightly painful but addictive experience. Opened up and worked over by Steve's mouth was one thing, but it had been a very long time – regardless that they'd done more with less before.
Steve looked down at where his dick was pressed against Bucky's writhing body and then looked back up to Bucky's face. Steve let out a huff of a breath, leaned over him and kissed up his neck to his chin before finally reaching his lips. He rolled his hips and Bucky broke the kiss to gasp and he looked surprised and blissed out so completely as he rode into him deep and slow.
He started thrusting, gentle at first, then a little harder each time, sweat bubbling as they found that familiar pacing from so long ago. It didn't take long, not with Bucky taking himself in hand, stroking hard and fast with one slick hand, the other touching Steve wherever possible as Steve buried his face in his neck, thrusting erratically. Want, need, desire, pain, pleasure, it was everything, and it was Bucky who was basically the same thing to Steve, his pain and his pleasure.
Thrusting against him once, twice, and then Steve was pulsing thick between their bodies, panting Bucky's name into his ear, and Bucky was close, God, so close.
Steve pulled back and Bucky reached down, but Steve's hand was there first, wrapped around him carefully but confidently. In a few short strokes Bucky arched back, eyes rammed shut, lips firmly and sexily between his teeth as he came over Steve's hand and his own stomach, desperately trying to catch his breath.
"You're perfect," Steve said with a happy, blissed out smile that the world never got to see. It was his.
"I'm not," he swallowed, catching his breath. "I'm awful. I … Fuck." Reality sunk in as the lust haze that had fogged up his brain started to clear. "I fucked up."
"Kinda the point of that … beautifully the point," Steve added with a kiss to his temple as they laid side by side.
Bucky looked at him then, the only man he ever loved his whole life, perfect, not a having aged a day from the last time he saw him. His heart ached all over again.
"Peggy. I … fuck." He found the strength to get out of the bed and stood on wobbly legs, finding his shirt to wipe himself down, in lieu of a towel.
"Peggy's a smart woman, Buck, she–"
"No, okay? Don't logic me out of this. We're wrong for this Steve, so fucking wrong. She's a good woman, the best … the only…" He was pacing. Steve knew that wasn't a good sign. Pacing naked while a distraction still meant his mind was in hyper overdrive.
"I love that girl, Steve. She's loved me too, in her own way. We've had a life and I fucked that all away just now. I … didn't even think, and that's what terrifies me. It's you, so of course I want you, I love you. I need you just like I need her … but I fucked up."
"Bucky–" Steve got to his feet then, hunting for his underwear, feeling more than a little heavy hearted for everything. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have … maybe we should just–" He was lost, he wasn't sure what to do. He had just been so excited that Bucky still loved him that things got way out of hand. They had a habit of that when together, he realised. Reality rarely got a look in.
"Steve, I'm sorry, I am. I love you. Jesus, you know how I love you?" he said, grabbing Steve's face, a pained look on his own. "I just can't do this to her, hell, I've already done it to her, haven't I? My mother used to talk about fellas who messed around on their women, with other women it was bad enough, but with you? Who she loved too? Steve, in almost ten years, I haven't so much as looked at anyone but her, not seriously. Never really, once or twice to make her jealous sure, but in all that time I loved only her." He stood again, pacing, Steve didn't want to look close enough to see if there were tears in his eyes. "I'm fucked in the head is what I am, I knew there was something – something wrong with me since–"
"Oh good Lord, Barnes, I can hear your nervous breakdown from the front steps."
They both looked up from where they sat on the edge of the thoroughly fucked in bed. Bucky shot up first, standing with his mouth agape. Steve wanted to be back in the ice in that moment in time.
Fuck.
"Peggy, I can explain."
"Peggy–" Steve began, and then stopped when he realised he had no real idea of what to say. She cocked a brow at that, a slight smile on her lips.
"Firstly though, are you armed?" he asked, his hands subconsciously covering his dick.
She just rolled her eyes before staring at the both of them for the longest minute of their lives.
"I think we need to have a long overdue conversation, don't you? And I'm parched, cuppa tea?" With that she turned on her heel and marched herself down the stairs, leaving them both looking at the other confused as all hell.
"I … should go, shouldn't I?" Steve offered, but Bucky wasn't sure one way or the other what they were meant to do in a situation like this.
"I don't know? I mean … maybe? I don't know…"
Steve was dressing quickly, as was Bucky, yanking on the clothes as quickly as they had come off.
"If you need me to stay I'll stay, or if it needs to be something between you both I'll go. I'll come back, or … anything if you need me, I'll be at Stark tower either way, okay?"
Bucky nodded before Steve cupped his face.
Bucky's heart felt physically heavy, but he nodded and smiled. He had wanted for so long for this to be what it was like between them, and now that it was, it was still wrong – but for other reasons than before.
"Go, I'll deal with whatever she throws at me, but if she kills me I want to be cremated."
Steve smiled, kissing him once on the forehead before grabbing his shoes.
"She won't kill you, she loves you too much. Trust me, I know what that's like."
When he walked into the kitchen he saw her standing by the window, the kettle on the boil, starting to steam. She seemed lost in thought but he knew her reflexes now and knew that she saw and heard every move before he even entered the room.
"Steve left then," was all she said, moving to switch off the stove.
"Yeah he's … well rightfully terrified of you."
That made her smile, her eyes remained sad though and he fucking hated himself for making that the reality of this conversation.
"I feel rather proud of that, which is probably the wrong reaction, but eliciting fear in super powerful men – literally in this case – has always been a pastime of mine."
"Peggy, I'm sorry–"
"Don't okay? Please. I don't need to hear you lie to me, Barnes. You've not made a habit of it in our time together, and you're awful at it to boot, so please."
She didn't make the tea, instead she took a seat at the nook, and he took over and made the tea as she sat silently. He left her cup in front of her, and took a seat opposite.
"I just … I knew that it was a part of who you are and I accepted that. I … I just never really thought it was something you needed."
He was lost.
"What?"
"Men. I mean, sex with men. Sex with men who aren't me and have things I don't – or rather one thing I don't … and maybe I thought about it sometimes that maybe it was something you missed but I never allowed myself down that path and I–"
"Peggy–"
"No, it's stupid of me, really. It just doesn't go dormant because you're with a woman, I should have known that. I just have to know – I've trusted you completely, you know that right? I just need to ask–"
"No."
"No?"
"No, there have been no men … or women. No one, not since you and me and honestly not even since before you and me. I mean there was Jack, but he was the one that kissed me, once, and I didn't kiss him back because I didn't want to, I wanted you."
That was a story for another time. She sighed then, seemingly breathing again.
"You know I'm not angry, I'm not. I'm oddly fine, though a little relieved you didn't fuck him in our bed, is that a strange thing to admit?"
He cringed physically. He was the world's biggest asshole.
"He and I talked you know, before he came here today – last night – most of the night really. And I … sent him here. I sent him here knowing what would happen. I knew, and I sent him to see you anyway." She took a deep breath. "Because he loves you … and you have always–" her voice broke and it broke him, he all but lunged beside her and got down on one knee, making her look him in the eye from where she sat.
"Peggy, I'm so sorry, I am. The last thing I want is to hurt you. The last thing Steve would ever want is to hurt you. He loves you, too. I mean it's fucked isn't it? It's all entirely absolutely fucked but it's the truth."
She wiped a tear then, taking another deep breath.
"That's the bloody problem. I knew when you two saw each other again, got time alone, that there would be nothing – past, present or future - that would stop you from being together now. And laying all my cards on the table here James, it fucking terrified me because I'm powerless here, and I hate that feeling."
She hugged him then, their heights matching as she sat on the chair and he stood on his knees, reaching for her and enveloping her in his arms.
"You are not powerless. That is a word that never has and never will ever apply to you, Carter."
She pulled back, rolling her eyes.
"Peg, I love you. I've loved you and I know you've loved me, and what we've had has been the best years of my life."
He meant that, every damn word.
"But…?" she added, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. "Then there's Steve, and those feelings don't just die. They didn't when we thought he was gone, and now…"
Bucky remained silent, unsure of what came next. It wasn't like there was a road map for this sort of thing.
"We talked, he and I, and he told me that he loved me, or was at least falling in love with me before that plane fell from the sky. He told me he was confused then and even more so now, if possible. He also told me that he had loved you since he was twelve and knew what it meant – even if he was going to hell for it."
Bucky sighed as she all but dragged him to his feet, taking his hand and leading him into the living room.
She took a soft seat next to him, both of them still obviously on eggshells.
"What happens now?" she asked, slipping off her heels and curling legs underneath herself.
"I don't … I don't know."
"Just be honest with me, Barnes. It's all I've ever asked of you, don't change that now."
The truth, well, in for a penny as his mother used to say. It was his turn then to take a big deep lungs filled breath.
"I love him, and I never thought I'd get him back. God don't answer the prayers of two queer boys from Brooklyn, Carter, he just don't."
She nodded, that sad smile back in place and it felt like a knife in the chest.
"But I also love you, I'm in love with you too, and I have been for creeping up on seven years. I love our life together. I love our friendship, our relationship, the fact that you're my friend and my lover, and I had hoped one day soon a little more. You're the only woman I've ever loved, Peggy, and at first that terrified me so much because what if I lost you, too. And so I hid it away and stamped it down for longer than I want to admit, but I know you did too, because you shared that same fear because we both lost–"
"The only man you ever loved."
He tried to stop it, but failed. He felt the familiar sting of tears in eyes, not bothering to front it anymore he let them fall with a sniffle.
"Yeah." He let out a big breath then. He felt as if he'd been holding that information in most of his life, and he expected her to look at him with hate filled eyes, but no, he just saw her look at him as she always looked at him, a curious softness, and maybe love.
He hoped it was still love.
"And shit, during the war I was so jealous of you because I knew he'd pick you over me any day."
"Categorically false, James. That was my thought on the two of you. It's what held me back for so long with Steve, and I didn't want to get into something that I knew would only end in my heart being trampled."
He laughed then, a little bitterly. The had this conversation in a way when they first reconnected, so long ago now.
"We should have had a chinwag back in the day, Carter. The two fools in love with a super fool, wonder if they'd add that to the comics?"
That made her laugh, her own tears being dried up by a hankie she produced from her pocket, which told him that it wasn't the first time she'd shed tears that week. The sinking feeling returned to his stomach again.
"I always wanted you both to have a shot though. I mean I barely knew you, but him … I wanted so desperately for him to have a shot at a normal life, make an honest woman of you, and have some kids … whatever he wanted. And I was so bitter that the war took him at all, but more so that it took his choices from him, his life."
She nodded.
He took her hand then and kissed it.
"I am sorry for all of this. You deserve better."
She shook her head.
"I wouldn't trade anything, he and I, you and I, and yes even you and him – none of it - for the world."
"Really?"
"He shaped you, you shaped him, for the last almost decade you and I have shaped each other. He made me want to fight on, to fight the good fight – whatever that was - to stand up for the little guys who were always, always taking a beating. We've all affected each other, changed each others lives for the better – mostly. People grow and change and we become hopefully decent human beings willing to do the right thing and live a good life in-between. I got to live a good life with you for longer than I thought, war being what it is; a never ending cycle of death and pain, and we do what we can in-between to make life good. You made my life good."
"And you mine."
It felt final, it felt terrifying, and so he gripped her hands tighter.
"I don't want this to be our end, Peggy. I can't lose you."
She closed her eyes, more tears falling before she licked her lips.
"But you love him more."
"No, I love him too , not more . Not more. I love you both and my head is so fucked up because that's wrong. You aren't meant to love your best friend, or your best friends girl and certainly not both at once. I might be wrong Peggy, but I can't help how I feel and I'm sorry but I don't want to lose you both."
She narrowed her eyebrows at him then.
"What are you saying, Bucky?"
It was Bucky when she was trying to get through to him, always Bucky – after nightmares, after sex, after a fight. Barnes in public, James when pissed or proper, or properly pissed. He liked when she called him Bucky.
"I don't know. I'm sorry, I think I would rather lose you both than have to choose, Peggy. I can do a lot of things but not that."
AN2:
Eeep! How did you like that? The Steve/Bucky reunion sexing was tough to make happen because don't we all love Peggy so much? Does it make it cheating if they all love each other? Does it make it cheating if she was sending Steve there and knowing and being okay with what she knew would happen? I angst'd a lot over this chapter so I really do hope you like!
