Sinners and Saints


-Brooklyn, Fall 1937-

Steve shivered as the crisp autumn wind cut through his shirt. He had given his coat to his date, but he was looking forward to getting it back. He never understood why dames couldn't dress warmly enough. At least her place was close.

The movie had been good and his date had actually been pleasant for once, not that he'd been paying much attention. Bucky's date had dragged him out into the alley halfway through the movie. Steve had spent most of the movie imagining all the wanton things they were doing, but it wasn't worth ruining a nice evening over. They dropped the girls off and headed for their apartment. Bucky put an arm around Steve's shoulders to warm him up as they walked.

"I'd give you my jacket too, but it'd look weird," Bucky said.

"It's fine," Steve assured him stiffly. "We're almost home. How far did this one let you get?"

"Do we really have to talk about this right now," Bucky muttered reluctantly.

"Just tell me," Steve grumbled.

"If I tell you, you're just going to get mad at me."

"I'll get mad if you don't," Steve argued.

"Fine," Bucky agreed. "But can I talk to my best friend for a minute."

Steve took a deep breath. "Ok. What did you do with her?"

Bucky looked around, lowering his voice secretively. "She let me go all the way," he bragged, unable to hide a grin.

Steve forced a smile. Bucky was still his best friend and he didn't want him to start hiding things. Besides, he was curious. "So what was it like?"

Bucky shrugged. "It was ok, kind of awkward. She seemed a bit disappointed when we were done."

"Are you sure you were doing it right?" Steve teased. Bucky put him in a headlock.

"Never heard you complain!" he growled.

Steve broke out of the hold laughing. "Did you wear a raincoat at least?" he asked as they continued walking.

"You're damn right," Bucky muttered. "I don't think that was her first time."

"What makes you say that?" Steve asked.

"She kept telling me what to do!"

Steve laughed. If she was that particular, the odds of Bucky seeing her again were slim.

"So how was your date?" Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged. "Nice enough. She let me hold her hand. I didn't try to push my luck."

"Just as well. I need you to fill me in on the movie just in case my mom asks."

Steve smirked. "It was good. You should actually watch it sometime."

Bucky laughed and threw and arm around Steve's shoulder as they continued through the chilly streets.


Bucky followed Steve up the stairs, fishing his key out of his pocket. The door closed and Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's neck.

"Up for another round or did she wear you out?" he asked in a sultry voice.

Bucky rested his hands on Steve's hip, a bit surprised by the sudden turn around. He had expected Steve to pout a bit longer. "So you're not mad at me?"

"I was," he said, tugging at Bucky's tie. "But Cary Grant always puts me in a forgiving mood."

"So it takes Cary Grant to get you going?" Bucky teased.

"Only because he kind of reminds me of you," Steve replied coyly.

Bucky kissed him, undoing the knot in his tie. Steve pushed him back.

"Clean up first, I'll make the beds."

Bucky hurried to the bathroom and stripped down. He took a quick shower and splashed on a dash of aftershave to mask any hint of his previous encounter. He headed to the bedroom to find Steve in bed waiting for him, already undressed.

"We should go see Cary Grant films more often," Bucky said, climbing into bed. He pulled Steve into a deep kiss, sliding his hand up Steve's thigh. Steve pulled back for a moment and moved down to lick Bucky's throat. He kissed a trail down Bucky's chest, nipping playfully at his nipple. Bucky gasped as Steve pushed him back on the bed and straddled his hips.

"I feel like I should be doing this to you," Bucky chuckled, running his fingers up Steve's arm.

"I wanted to try something," Steve purred, leaning over to kiss Bucky's neck.

"Oh?"

Steve sat back. Looking at him shyly. "Do you remember last year when we, um," Steve fumbled for the words.

"Sweetheart." Bucky stroked Steve's arm. "After all the things we've done you need to be more specific."

"The time I let you do the back scuttle," Steve mumbled shyly.

Bucky frowned. "It this about me boiling that dame's cabbage?"

"No!" Steve protested.

Bucky looked at him skeptically. "Really? You're not just jealous?"

"Why would I be?" Steve whispered in Bucky's ear. "She had you for five minutes in a dirty alley. I have you all night and you're going to make me breakfast."

"Last time we tried it, you cut me off for months!" Bucky reminded him.

"I wasn't ready then," Steve said, lacing their fingers together. "But a lot's changed. I've actually been thinking about this lately and I just haven't had the guts to bring it up."

Bucky brought Steve's hand to his lips. "Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow. We don't have to rush it." He was trying to hold back, but if Steve kept this up he was going to throw him on the bed and hump him senseless.

"What if I do it to you?" Steve suggested.

"What?" Bucky looked at him, stunned. He hadn't even considered offering himself up, and honestly he wasn't sure he wanted to. "Does it hurt?" he asked nervously.

"You might be a little sore tomorrow," Steve admitted, "but if I go slow you'll be fine."

"Do you know what you're doing?" Bucky asked.

"Did you?" Steve asked.

"No, and look what happened!"

"Sweetheart, that was last year," Steve said, tracing a finger down his chest. "A lot's changed."

Bucky looked at Steve. He couldn't really see a reason to say no. "Do we have any Crisco left?"

"I'll look," Steve ran to the kitchen and returned a moment later with the cannister. "I'll buy a new one Monday."

"Are you sure about this?" Bucky asked again, as Steve pried the lid off.

Steve kissed him. "Trust me."

Bucky nodded. He lay back and opened his legs as Steve scooped out a glob of shortening. This wasn't at all how he had expected to end the night and he still wasn't sure it was a good idea. They had fumbled their way blindly through everything, not always with the best results. Now that they finally seemed to be in a good place, he didn't want to risk spoiling things.

Steve knelt between his legs, kissing the inside of his thighs softly as he moved down to take Bucky's cock into his mouth. Bucky tried to relax as Steve sucked him gently, moaning softly as Steve's tongue lapped at the tip. Slowly, Steve pressed a greasy finger inside of him. Bucky gripped the sheets, biting his lip as Steve pushed in further.

"Stop clenching," Steve told him.

"I can't help it, you have your finger in my ass!" Bucky snapped.

Steve removed his finger and sat back for a moment. "What if you get on your hands and knees? I think that might be easier."

Bucky rolled over onto his knees. The posture felt undignified, but he had agreed to give this a try. Steve knelt behind him, he started to stroke Bucky's cock slowly before pressing a finger in again. It was easier in this position, though still a bit odd. Bucky rested his forehead on his forearms, trying to breathe as Steve pressed another finger inside. All he could think about was the size of Steve's cock. It was one thing to have Steve stick a couple of fingers inside of him, but Steve was too big for Bucky to fit in his mouth; he wasn't sure how it was going to fit in his ass.

Steve took his fingers out and leaned over to kiss Bucky's neck. "Sweetheart, you need to relax."

"I'm trying!" Bucky growled. "I'm worried that kidney buster of yours is going to split me open!"

Steve laughed. "Bucky, it'll be fine."

He slipped his fingers back in, deeper inside this time, brushing against something. Bucky gasped. He looked back at Steve who was grinning.

"Found it."

Bucky laid his head on the pillow, as Steve wiggled his fingers around. Bucky shuddered as he rubbed against whatever it was. Steve rubbed it again and again until Bucky came. Panting for breath, Bucky leaned his head against the pillow for a moment until his legs stopped quivering.

Steve leaned over and kissed the middle of his back. "Ready?"

"Just be careful," Bucky mumbled.

"Let me know if it hurts."

Bucky nodded, taking a deep breath as Steve push slowly into him. It didn't hurt, but it was odd.

"Is that ok," Steve asked.

"Is that all of it?" Bucky asked.

Steve leaned over, lazily stroking his cock. "Just tell me if it starts to hurt."

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to relax as he adjusted to the feeling of having Steve inside him. After a minute Steve started to move. It hurt a bit at first, but the discomfort began to subside as Steve settled into a smooth rhythm. He moaned as Steve found the same spot from before, his cock brushing against it as he thrust in and out with slow strokes. Bucky tried to wrap his mind around the sensation. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was a bit emasculating to let someone fuck him like this. Even so, there was something strangely liberating about trusting someone enough to be this vulnerable.

He felt Steve's fingers dig into his hips as he sped up. A moment later Steve cried out and slumped forward onto his back. Bucky groaned, aching for release. He was so close. If only Steve could have just lasted a bit longer. Kissing his shoulder, Steve slipped out of Bucky and guided him to lie down on his back. He bent down to finish him with his mouth. Sticking two fingers back inside him, he rubbed firmly against the spot. Bucky shot off into Steve's mouth, a shiver of ecstasy rippling through his body.

Steve licked him clean and crawled up to lie beside him. "How was that?"

"It was weird, but it wasn't bad," Bucky said, slipping an arm around Steve's thin shoulder. "I like some of the other stuff we do better, but I wouldn't mind doing it again."

Steve craned his neck up for a kiss. "Maybe if we practice it'll feel better."

Bucky laughed. "Worth a shot."


Steve yawned as the morning sun shone in his eyes. Beside him Bucky rolled back over. Steve kissed him, sleepily rubbing his erection against Bucky's leg.

"I can tell you what you're not doing with that," Bucky mumbled.

"Guess that answers my next question," Steve chuckled, running a hand through Bucky's hair.

Bucky winced. "I don't think I'll be able to sit right for a week."

Steve sighed and rolled out of bed. "Fine, I'll just do it in the shower."

"Where are you going," Bucky asked. "It's Sunday?"

"We promised your mother we'd go to Mass," Steve reminded him. At dinner last week it had come out that neither of them had been to Mass since they moved into the apartment. His mother had nearly fainted. Bucky groaned, burying his face in his pillow.

"Do we have to?"

"Unless you want to sit through another lecture about our immortal souls, get dressed," Steve said. "And it's your morning to cook breakfast."

"After what I let you do to me last night, you owe me breakfast," Bucky muttered.

Steve just laughed as he headed off to the bathroom.


Steve stifled a yawn as Father Carlisle approached the pulpit. He had been looking forward to this, but the new priest was a bit dull. A bored but respectful silence fell over the congregation as the sermon began.

"Just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which likewise indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural desire, serve as an example by undergoing a punishment of eternal fire," Father Carlisle quoted. Steve raised an eyebrow. He hadn't really been paying attention to the readings earlier but he didn't remember hearing that. Bucky's face was ashen as Father Carlisle continued.

"Eternal damnation awaits those who put the pleasures of the flesh before the will of God. Fornicators and Sodomites who indulge their hedonistic desires with no thought to the needs of the soul. One cannot hope to enter the kingdom of Heaven if they devote their life to sinful pursuits!"

Steve listened to the sermon with a queasy feeling in his stomach as Father Carlisle railed against the sins of the flesh and the abomination of unnatural lust. Mrs. Barnes covered Robert's ear with a scandalized look on her face. Grace listened intently, unaware but curious. Mr. Barnes looked appropriately solemn while Becky stared intently at her gloves. Steve cringed. Of all the Sundays to come, they had to pick this one.

There was a collective sigh of relief as the sermon ended. Steve barely paid attention to the rest of the mass, rattling off the prayers and responses from memory. As they filed out of the church, Bucky and Steve hung back in stunned silence.

Becky smirked. "Wasn't that appropriate? First time at mass in months and he wrote the sermon just for you."

Steve felt his breath catch. "What's that supposed to mean?" Bucky demanded.

Becky smirked. "You went out with Louise McNeil last night, didn't you?"

Steve felt the knot in his chest loosen but Bucky snarled. "Well, I don't see your boyfriend here. Remind me what church he goes to?"

Becky fell silent.

"That's what I thought," Bucky warned her quietly. "So unless you want Mom to find out you're sneaking out to date a Presbyterian, keep your mouth shut."

They hurried to catch up the the rest of the family.

"Well that was a little risqué for my taste," Mrs. Barnes said as they left the church.

Grace tugged at Bucky's sleeve. "Bucky, what's a sodomite?"

"Why are you asking me?" Bucky stammered, taken aback by the question.

Grace frowned. "Steve, what's a Sodomite?"

"Nothing to worry about!" Mrs. Barnes said quickly before Steve had to answer.

"What's a fornicator?" she asked Becky.

"That's enough questions!" Mrs Barnes said quickly.

"You might as well tell her now," Becky said. "She's just going to look it up later."

"I hope you three were paying attention," she said looking pointedly at Becky, Bucky, and Steve. She leaned over to Mr. Barnes to whisper. "It wouldn't hurt for you to have a talk with them later."

Mr. Barnes looked at them and shook his head to say that they would not be having that discussion.

"Ok, let's go home," Mrs. Barnes said, herding Robert and Grace toward the door. "Are you boys coming over for dinner tonight?"

Bucky looked at Steve, pleading with him to come up with an excuse.

"I'm feeling a bit ill," Steve said. It wasn't a complete lie. "I think it would be best if I just went home."

Mrs. Barnes put a hand on Steve's forehead. "You don't feel warm."

Steve put a hand to his stomach. "I think it's something I ate."

"Alright," she said. "We'll see you later. Let me know if you need anything."

"I'm going to go with him and make sure he's ok," Bucky said in a hurry. They ran off quickly before Mrs. Barnes could say another word.


Bucky slammed the door closed and went to get the whiskey out of the cabinet. "That was excruciating."

"I almost wanted to tell your sister what a sodomite was so she'd stop asking!" Steve said, exasperated.

"You realize that's us, right?" Bucky said, pouring a small glass.

"I don't remember the last priest talking about all that stuff. Do you?"

Bucky took a swig from his glass. "I don't think I was paying attention. I was just trying not to fall asleep."

"I think he was too. Didn't he fall asleep during communion once?"

"No, it was the confessional booth."

Steve sighed. "Maybe next week won't be so bad."

Bucky gaped at him. "You want to go back?"

"Yeah, there's this funny custom where some people go every week," Steve said, taking a sip of the whiskey.

"Fine." Bucky took the glass back and finished it. If he didn't press it, maybe Steve would forget. "Come on, let's eat and get to the park."

"Or we could just stay in," Steve said, stroking Bucky's side. Bucky flinched. "What?"

"It's just, after all that I'm not really in the mood."

"Ok, fine. Well go to the park," Steve said, kissing him on the cheek. "I have an art project I need to work in anyway."

Steve went to get his sketch pad. A day outside would do them both some good.


Bucky stretched as the radio broadcast finished. "I'm going to bed."

"I'll be there in a minute," Steve said, filling in some shading on his sketch.

Bucky brushed his teeth and went to change. As much as he had tried he couldn't get Father Carlisle's sermon out of his head. The timing of it was almost eerie. He could have sworn Father Carlisle was staring at him the whole time as though he knew what Bucky had been up to the night before.

He rubbed his face. Maybe a good night's rest would help clear his head. He started to climb into bed as Steve came in. He looked at Bucky, puzzled.

"Are we not pushing the beds together tonight?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment, but he realized he was being ridiculous. "Yeah, sorry. Forgot."

He got up and dragged his bed over to Steve's. Steve put a hand on his arm.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm just tired," Bucky said.

Steve kissed him and climbed in to bed. Bucky turned out the light and lay down beside him. Surely things would seem clearer in the morning. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a fitful sleep.


Bucky spun the pretty blond as the music swirled around them. The dance hall had been Steve's idea. He had tried not to let what happened at church last week bother him, but he couldn't shake it. Steve still wanted to go back tomorrow and Bucky was dreading it. The music had taken his mind off things for a while but all the girls in Brooklyn couldn't solve his troubles. In fact, the girls were part of the problem.

He loved Steve but there was a reason he hadn't been able to commit himself fully. He was still confused about the nature of his feelings. For a while it seemed like things had settled, but he realized he had just been ignoring the issue. Steve had given him space to work things out, but he was still lost. It was no longer a question of what he wanted, but rather how badly he wanted it. He loved Steve, but he wasn't sure he could handle what it would take for them to stay together. The sermon last week had shattered the blissful illusion they had been living in. Hell didn't really frighten him, but the idea of having to endure people that for the rest of his life did.

The dance ended and their song started to play. Bucky excused himself and went to stand against the wall with Steve. He looked out at the other couples on the floor. He envied the carefree smile of every other man there who was able to hold his sweetheart right now. The love of his life was standing beside him, but he might as well have been across the room.

"You wanna get out of here?" he asked Steve.

"Sure," Steve said. "It's still early, we could get a soda."

Bucky shook his head. "I need a drink."

They walked to the bar in silence. Bucky ordered a whiskey for each of them and took it over to a quiet table in the corner. He sipped his whiskey, staring out at the bar.

"Are you ok?" Steve asked. "You've been acting weird lately."

Bucky looked at his glass. He knew Steve was right, but he didn't want to talk about it right now. They'd had this argument before and it always ended the same way. These doubts had plagued him since that first stolen kiss and nothing had changed. The only difference was that he was starting to see the cracks in the facade. He finished his drink in one swallow.

"It's nothing. Let's just go home."

"We just got here!" Steve protested. "I haven't even finished my drink."

Bucky picked up the glass and took a large swallow. Steve glared at him.

"What? You weren't going to drink half of it anyway."

Steve scowled at him and finished it, coughing a bit as they left the bar. They walked home in stiff silence.

Bucky closed the door and went to the kitchen for a piece of cake. He felt Steve's hands slid around his waist. Steve leaned his cheek against Bucky's shoulder.

"I don't know what's bothering you but I'm here."

Bucky cut another piece of cake for Steve and took them to the table. He pulled out the chair to sit down but Steve stopped him. Pushing him back against the counter, he sank to his knees. He undid Buckys pants and boxers and took the head of Bucky's cock in his mouth, teasing and licking at the tip until it started to stiffen. Bucky leaned back, grabbing the counter for support.

His mind raced as Steve slid down, taking him in so far that his lips circled the base. He had had girls do this too him as well, just as good, but there was something about the way Steve's mouth enveloped him, swallowing him possessively. All the girls just seemed to be trying to rush through, get him off and get back to the dance floor. Steve took his time, lavishing attention on him, worshiping him. There was so much passion and affection in the way his tongue lapped at the tip, hungrily licking up every drop of him. How could something that intimate and caring be a sin?

Bucky cried out, gripping the counter as he exploded into Steve's mouth. Steve sucked him clean and sat back on his heels with a satisfied grin. Bucky looked at him for a moment as he caught his breath.

"Alright let's have cake," Steve said.

Bucky reached down to help Steve to his feet and led him back to the bedroom. "Forget the cake."


Bucky awoke with Steve in his arms. The morning sun gleaming through the window gave him a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in days. He kissed Steve's neck. Holding Steve in his arms just seemed right.

"What time is it?" Steve asked groggily.

"What does it matter?," Bucky muttered, kissing his neck. "It's Sunday?"

"We told your mom we'd go to Mass. We should probably get up."

"You really want to go again?"

"Maybe it won't be so bad this week."

"What's with the sudden interest in church?" Bucky asked.

Steve grew quiet for a moment. "I haven't been since Mom died."

Bucky reached up to stroke his arm. "That's right, it'll be a year soon."

Steve nodded. "Sometimes I just feel like I'm starting to forget her. The apartment is gone, I got rid of most of her stuff. Everything has just changed so much since last year. I just wanted it to slow down for a minute."

Bucky kissed him softly. "Ok, we'll go." Bucky trailed a hand down Steve's bare arm. "But you owe me."

"I'll make pancakes," Steve said, shoving his hand away. "I don't think I'll be able to walk straight for a couple of days as it is."


Bucky took a deep breath to settle his stomach as the service drew to a close. It had been just as bad this week if not worse. His mother looked a bit perturbed.

"You'd think he might have a little more variety," she said shortly.

"Well we're done," his dad said. "Let's go eat."

"I have to stay. The knitting circle is having a meeting about the charity bazaar. There's leftover chicken in the icebox. Becky can you start dinner?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Steve, Bucky before you go home it might be good for you to go to confession," she said sharply.

"What!" Bucky asked.

"Well you've barely been to mass since Christmas I can only imagine the last time you went to confession."

Bucky looked to his father for help.

"Listen to your mother," he said as he herded the rest of the family out.

"Are you going to go?" Steve asked when they were out of earshot.

Bucky shook his head. "What's the point of confessing your sins if you don't plan to stop."

Steve chuckled, blushing slightly. "Just go! It's not like you'll catch fire."

"Fine." Bucky sighed. "Let's get this over with."

Bucky went in the confessional booth.

"Bless me father for I have sinned and it's been," he paused to think. "Awhile since my last confession."

"And what do you have to confess?"

Bucky rubbed his neck. "Well you know the usual." He didn't want to tell this man about Steve but it was weighing on his mind. Maybe talking about it would at least help him sort through it. "Thing is, I'm in love with someone I shouldn't be in love with. I've tried to stop but I can't ignore the way I feel."

"Are you talking about love or lust, my son," Father Carlisle asked gravely.

"Both I guess," Bucky replied.

"Human nature needs to be overcome," Father Carlisle insisted. "That's what separates us from the beasts."

"But it's not like we're hurting anyone," Bucky argued. "I don't understand how loving someone can be so terrible."

"Thou shalt not commit adultery nor covet thy neighbor's wife," the priest quoted.

"No, it's not like that!" Bucky said quickly.

"Then what is so bad about her that you feel the need to confess?" Father Carlisle demanded. "Is she a protestant? Jewish?"

Bucky cringed. He had gotten away so far without lying outright but now he was stuck. "It's not a dame," he muttered.

"I see," the priest said in a grave tone. "That is a very serious transgression."

Bucky glared at the screen, clenching his fist. "I can't help it," he insisted. "I've tried, I really have, but I love him."

"It's an abomination," Father Carlisle replied harshly. "If you persist both of you are doomed to eternal torment."

"I think I made a mistake coming here." Bucky stood up and ran out of the confessional booth without another word. He couldn't stand to hear anymore of this. Steve fell in behind him as he headed for the door.

"Didn't go well?"

"Let's just go home." Bucky muttered darkly.


Back at home, Steve fixed lunch while Bucky sat at the table with a far off look in his eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment. "I told him I was in love with a man," he said finally. "I don't even want to tell you the things he said."

"Can't be much worse than what he said in his sermon," Steve grumbled.

He handed Bucky a plate and sat down at the table. Bucky ate slowly, barely seeming to notice what he was eating. He finished and took his plate to the sink.

"I need to clear my head, I'm going for a walk."

He grabbed his coat and headed out the door. Steve finished his lunch and got up to start prepping dinner. He drained the beans that had been soaking and refilled the pot with water. He turned the stove on and started prepping the vegetables, angrily chopping the carrots as he thought about the service.

He felt like an idiot for making Bucky go. Things like this were exactly why Bucky was still holding back. He didn't bring it up often, but Bucky's reluctance to commit still irked him. While he didn't like the constant parade of woman, he had learned to be patient. Bucky needed time to come around, but until the last week Steve had thought he was winning. Now he saw how easily that could be upset.

Steve dropped the carrots into the pot and started chopping the onion. It wasn't just Bucky that was bothering him, he realized. The whole thing had left a bad taste in his mouth too. He had insisted they start going to church again to try to recapture some of what his life had been when his mother was alive. He remembered sitting beside her and hearing stories about charity and integrity and compassion. It had always seemed like a safe and welcoming place in a harsh unfair world. Church had always inspired hope in him, but hearing the priest say such horrible things made him question if he had just been blind. He believed in God, but he was starting to think his idea of God might not be the same one he was raised with. He couldn't reconcile the idea that loving Bucky made him a wicked person. With so much injustice and hatred in the world, what sort of God would condemn him for loving someone.

He dumped the onions in the pot and started peeling potatoes. Maybe while the soup was cooking he would draw a little. If he couldn't find God in church, he'd look in his art.


The leaves swirled through the air as Bucky walked through the streets. He thought back to that first kiss two years ago. It had been an impulse, a split second of boldness that had changed his life. He didn't regret it, but at the time he hadn't understood what he was pulling them into. He had never set out to hurt Steve, but he had. Everything had seemed so clear in that moment, but nothing afterwards had been easy. Steve had been patient, but Bucky still couldn't help feeling that it would have been better if he had never said anything.

Living with Steve he forgot sometimes what the rest of the world was like, but the past week had been a harsh reminder of why he hadn't been able to commit to Steve. Everywhere he went he felt like an imposter, at work, in the gym, at his parents. He felt like half of what he said anymore was a lie. He was always making excuses for why he didn't have a girlfriend or where he was on Friday night. He hated lying to his family, but the thought of how they might react terrified him. The only person he could be honest with was Steve, but some of the things he needed to say would just start an argument. Sometimes he felt so trapped. He didn't know if the priest was right about him going to Hell for loving Steve but sometimes he felt as though he were already there.

In his darkest thoughts he envied Steve. He had nothing to lose if the truth came out. His parents were gone and he could always just pick up and start over somewhere new if he wanted. Bucky still had a family and he wasn't prepared to abandon that. He knew that one day he might have to make a choice but he wasn't ready for it. Even though he was a man now, he still cherished those moments with his mother in the kitchen when the world made sense and those quiet afternoons doing home repairs with his father. He wanted to see Robert and Grace grow up and be there to help them through all the years ahead. He couldn't even stand the thought of losing Becky, no matter how irritating she was. He wanted to see her get married and meet her children. He didn't know if he could sacrifice that for Steve, but he wasn't sure he could keep living a lie to hang on to it either. There was a part of him that kept hoping some girl might come along and change his mind. He loved Steve but he would give it up in a second to be normal again.

Bucky sat down on a bench and stared at the sky. He wondered how long this could last. Something had to give eventually, he just hoped that whatever happened, he wouldn't lose Steve completely.


A few days later, Steve was at work reshelving books. Mr. Zimmerman was at the counter straightening up. The last few days at home had been odd. Bucky had been withdrawn and distant. Steve had tried to talk to him about it, but he would just change the subject. He wondered what Bucky was thinking, but he was still grappling with his own thoughts. No matter what the priest said, his feelings for Bucky seemed like the most natural thing in the world. But if that was true, what did that mean about his faith?

He reshelved the last of the books and went to get the broom. Steve paused and turned to Mr. Zimmerman. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly." Mr. Zimmerman replied, not looking up from his work.

"Do you believe in God?"

Mr. Zimmerman laughed, setting the papers aside. "The deep questions always come after the long silence."

"I guess that means you don't have a simple answer," Steve replied, taking the broom over to the corner to start sweeping.

Mr. Zimmerman smiled patiently. "Hard questions should never have an easy answer."

"I was at church this week and the something of the things the priest was saying just didn't seem right to me," Steve explained.

Mr. Zimmerman nodded. "I see. So we are talking about Religion, not God."

Steve stopped sweeping and looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Faith and Religion are not the same," Mr. Zimmerman told him. "Religion can be a guide, but faith is a personal thing for each man to discover on his own. Too often I have seen men close their eyes to reason in the name of Religion. Religion is easy and easily misused. Faith is difficult but it is the truer path."

"I just want to do the right thing."

"You don't need anyone to tell you what that is." Mr. Zimmerman put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "You have a good heart, just listen to it."

"I wonder if that's enough," Steve mused.

"It's more than many people have," Mr. Zimmerman assured him, returning to his work.

Steve tapped his fingers on the broom handle. "And what if your conscience tells you something is right when everyone else says it's wrong?"

"It is never bad to question what you believe, but don't let your doubts override your conscience. Perhaps they are they ones who must change." Mr. Zimmerman smiled warmly. "Enough philosophy now! Get back to work or we'll be here all night."

Steve nodded and set to work, pondering Mr. Zimmerman's advice as he swept.


Steve lifted the lid off the pot to stir the beef stew. It was one of Bucky's favorites and he was hoping it might lift his spirits a bit. He was at the gym, but he should be home soon. He heard the door opened. Bucky sat down in the chair to take off his shoes.

"Hi Steve. What's for dinner? Smells good."

"Beef stew," Steve told him. He looked at Bucky carefully. His face was swollen and starting to bruise. "What happened to you?"

"Got a bit distracted," Bucky called as he went to the bedroom to change. He came back and took a wash rag from the drawer and ran some cold water over it.

"Are you ok?" Steve asked.

Bucky winced as he pressed the rag to his cheek. "My face hurts."

"That's not what I meant," Steve said. Bucky had been dodging the subject all week. If he was distracted enough to get sucker punched like this, they needed to clear the air. "You didn't kiss me when you got home."

Bucky shifted the rag. "Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind."

"I noticed." Steve reached out to lay a hand on his arm. "You've barely touched me all week."

Bucky sighed. "I know, I'm sorry."

"If there's something bothering you, you can talk to me," Steve pleaded.

Bucky was quiet for a moment. He turned around and ran fresh water over the rag. "Do you think what we're doing is wrong?" he asked quietly.

"Are you still on about what Father Carlisle said?" Steve asked softly.

"It's hard sometimes when everyone around you says that the way you're living your life is a sin," he admitted. "Just think about what would happen if we were found out. Do you ever wonder if we're wrong?"

"Just because everyone's against us doesn't mean we're wrong," Steve said, pouring Bucky a glass of whiskey. "Everyone used to think Prohibition was a good idea too."

"Thank God we missed that," Bucky muttered, taking the glass.

"And not that long ago women couldn't vote," Steve continued. "Just because everyone thinks one way doesn't mean it's right. Maybe one day people will change their minds on this too."

Bucky took a sip of his drink.

"I love you, Sweetheart." Steve brushed his cheek. "And I'm with you, no matter what happens."

"I love you too." Bucky squeezed Steve's hand. "So you said beef stew?"

Steve smiled. "It's almost ready. Set the table while I slice the bread."

Bucky had just finished setting the table when there was a knock on the door. Before they could answer it, Becky entered grinning ear to ear.

"Becky! I've told you before you can't just barge in here!" Bucky cried.

"You'll never guess what happened at the knitting group this afternoon," she said excitedly.

"You made an ugly scarf that I'm going to get for Christmas?" Bucky guessed.

"You're getting a sweater," Becky said flatly. "Mom and I were knitting and Grace was reading a book like she always does. Father Carlisle came in and took the book away from her and told her to pick up a ball of yarn because young women should be knitting more than they read, and if she must read, she should be reading the Bible."

"Yeah that sounds like him," Steve muttered, setting the bread on the table.

"Well here's the funny part," Becky continued. "Mom started yelling at him to give it back and said Grace can read anything she wants. Then she started lecturing him about his sermons and how they're not appropriate for young children. She was so mad she accidentally stabbed him in the arm with a knitting needle!"

"Really?" Bucky asked, astounded. "What did he say?"

"Well we're banned from church for the time being, but a lot of the other women in the knitting group agree with her so they're going to write to the Bishop and tell him that they don't approve of the new priest. He might not be here much longer."

Steve failed to hide a grin. "So I guess we don't have to wake up early Sunday."

"No, but Mom wanted you to come over for dinner."

"We'll be there," Bucky said. "You want to stay? We're having beef stew?"

Becky shook her head. "I need to get going. I have a date. I'll see you Sunday."

"Have fun with your Methodist!" Bucky called.

"He's Presbyterian!" Becky yelled back, slamming the door behind her.

"Well that was a nice surprise," Steve said, serving the stew.

"You know that doesn't really change anything," Bucky pointed out, taking a seat at the table. "Who's to say the next priest will be any better."

"Then I'm done with church," Steve said, sitting down at the table. "I'm not going to sit there and let someone tell me I should feel bad about this."

"And what if you're wrong?" Bucky asked.

"What if they're wrong?" Steve countered. "I still believe in God, I just can't believe in their version of God. I believe in us, and no one can convince me that God hates us for being in love."

"I wish I had your faith." Bucky picked up his spoon and stirred his stew. "I do love you Steve or I wouldn't have made it this long."

Steve took a piece of bread and dipped it in his stew. Bucky was right. Getting rid of Father Carlisle wouldn't change anything, but that didn't mean they were wrong.

"After dinner let's go see movie and get our minds off of all this," Steve suggested.

Bucky grinned. "Sounds good. I still need to see that Cary Grant movie."


Bucky lay awake watching Steve as he slept peacefully beside him. His mind was racing. He trailed his fingers idly up and down Steve's back. Even if this was wrong, he couldn't give it up. Steve was the love of his life. He knew he would never find anyone else as devoted and caring. He held Steve closer, breathing in the scent of his hair.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, Sweetheart, but I'm glad I did it."

He kissed Steve on the forehead and closed his eyes, listening to Steve's slow steady breathing

-End-


A/N: Gah! It's been forever since I updated! Thank you guys for your patience. This chapter was kind of tricky. I wanted to touch Steve and Bucky's religious beliefs, but I also didn't want to get too bogged down in it, so it took more time than usual to figure out how to balance that. I just want to assure you that I am not going to abandon this story. Life has been a little hectic lately and I've been a bit distracted by cosplay projects. Also we're in kind of a tricky place where chapters might take a little time but I promise I'll see it through to the end. I have way too many ideas.

Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think!