Bucky shoved the bureau against the door. It was a pointless gesture, juvenile.

The barricade was more for the noise; a signal to the rest of the house that Bucky was displeased; with them; with Steve; with life. Mostly it was anger at himself.

"Real mature Barnes." He growled. "Steve could tear the door off its hinges without marring his perfectly manly cut fucking fingernails."

He toed at his sneakers and tossed them to thump loudly against the wall facing Sam's room.

You fucked it up again, asshole.

Bucky groaned as the Voice geared up for another night of torture. He reached for the closet door hinge; the top one; tapped it once; the ritual pacing could begin.

You just had to stick your god damned tongue in it. Didn't you.

"Listen pal, you thought it was good idea earlier." Heel to the corner; nine steps; careful stride.

Lick my fingers, Steve, it'll be fun, Steve, watch me eat this, Steve.

"Shut up." The metal plates shifted; the tension crawled across his chest.

I'll lick your ear, Steve; I'll watch you shudder; you'll watch me act like a fucking idiot.

"Get out of my head….. you're not real." Touch the dismantled surveillance camera.

You're a goddamned fool thinking he'd feel anything for you except pity.

Six steps….no…three then shove the bed away from the wall; now three steps; tap the lock on the window.

He's a fucking hero; he's saved thousands of lives; he's a legend…. He wasn't even awake; he was frozen and still managed to save millions.

"Ya, I get it…a fucking hero." Nine steps; touch the bureau corner; turn.

What's your big accomplishment? What have you done? Pathetic loser…killed people… that's your legacy. A killer; murderer.

He tripped over a sneaker. "Shit, shit." Panic snagged at his breath. "I missed a step. No. Ok, ok. Go back, do over; I need a do over." He spun around and rushed back to the bureau corner touch it twice; heel to the corner; steps…one, two, three…..

You didn't just kill your targets; nope not you….kill one, kill them all. Women. Children. You even killed their fucking dogs. Was that necessary, Soldier? Hydra was out to kill the dogs too? Who's to blame for that? You are, asshole. Even the handler laughed at you.

"You don't know anything about that." He stopped mid-stride and braced himself against the wall. A rush of memories sent shivers of sweat down his back. "Count the steps…don't lose count."

What the hell were you thinking on that train? Picked up the shield; his shield. Not yours, not for you to hold or touch or want. Your stupidity got you killed; he knows it; you fell; he could've reached you…but he didn't. He let you go…good riddance. You fell and he fucking walked away. Left you for dead. He never even looked for you asshole. Why would he? He had Peggy…smarter, better, he didn't have to pick up the pieces of her, not like you.

"Shut up…shut up…shut up!" Bucky snarled and lurched forward; driving his hands into his hair; he yanked until his head throbbed.

Everybody loves Steve Rogers. Captain America. Perfect. Star spangled man with a plan. What's your plan, Soldier? Kill people? Wreck lives? Push the bureau in front of the door? Mope under the table? Lick your fingers…kill yourself?

Touch the window lock; again. "I missed it? Go back. NO. Can't go back. Stop. Count the steps again. Three more. Ok. Start over."

You'll never be good enough for him. What's he going to do; live here with you for the next ninety years? Boorrring. Go on the run with you? Right. You're a fucking assassin wanted in 117 countries sooner or later they catch you…lock you up ….it'll be the Raft for you…a cot and three meals a day…if your lucky.

Matter of fact, Soldier. It'll be him who gives you up. He'll get tired of this bullshit and turn you in. Tuck you into the Raft and wave goodbye. Get on with his life without your sorry fucking ass.

Bucky crumpled down the wall; "No. You're wrong. He wouldn't do that. Not Steve. You don't know him….he wouldn't….I know…I think…nope…" He tugged his knees close and held on.

You're broken…beyond repair. There's no way out of this mess. No options. You're delusional pal if you think this is home for you. The Soldier has no place here. Wilson thinks you're an idiot. Romanova feels nothing but disdain for you. You remember her, you won't admit it though. You see how she looked…..those sad eyes full of pity.

Bucky tapped the back of his head against the wall. "Get out of my head…get out of my head."

Give it up…just let it go…go home…you know exactly where to go…we're out there…your real family's out there…waiting for you to come home.

A sob choked its way out as he smacked his head against the wall again.

Come home Soldier. We can help you.

"I hate you….I hate you." His head hit the wall again, harder.

You won't be lonely with us; we can take care of you. We can give you the touch you crave; we understand you; these people don't care about you; they feel sorry for you. You're a joke to them.

"No…maybe….I know…I know…" He slammed his head back again; the warm wetness was comforting.

Go ahead, child. Open the window; come to us. Call us, we'll find you. We'll take you home.

Bucky sobbed out a breath and crawled to the window; "I'm sorry, Steve, I know I promised." He pushed the window open. "I know I said I'd tell you first but I can't ….I can't stay here. I can't." He dragged himself through the window and onto the roof.

"I have to check on him, Sam." Natasha had the bedroom door ajar.

"Steve's right across the hall. He's gotta hear him."

"I get it but you heard the fight, a 9 on a scale of 1 to 10….10 being they come to blows… I've got a bad feeling about this." She peeked into the hallway.

"Well technically, he slapped his hand…making it a 10." Sam was trying to be helpful. "Nat, he barely speaks to you even when he's drugged. You know he's the definition of anti-social, anything we say will only piss him off more." He didn't want to get out of bed. The fight was very inconveniently timed and he was feeling resentful.

"OK, I heard it again. He's doing more than just talking to himself." It had been hours since he had slammed the door and rearranged the furniture. Natasha had spied Steve cross to Bucky's door at least six times, only to abort the knock and retreat to his room. "I'm going down there." Natasha threw on her clothes; shoved her feet into some slippers and headed for Bucky's door.

"Wait. Just wait for me." Sam called as he dragged on his sleep pants and ran after her.

That's it, child. Come home to me. I'll take care of you. You don't' belong with those people.

Bucky crouched on the roof. His head was pounding; he couldn't fight the Voice any longer. He knew how to get home; if he made the call they'd find him within hours and it would all be over. All the lost confusion; the guilt and shame could go away. He slipped down to the roof's edge.

"Barnes? Barnes. What the hell are you doing?" A woman's voice rasped out from the ground below him.

He froze.

"I see you up there. I know what the hell you're thinking and you are wrong, dead wrong." Natasha whisper shouted as she jumped on the picnic table and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

"God damn it, Barnes…you are such a pain in the ass." Sam groaned at the scene that threatened to steal not only his tryst but the entire night's sleep. He headed for the garage.

"Listen to me, Barnes. If you do this, if you run…you're breaking your word and I know that means something to you." Natasha stalled.

Sam reappeared with a ladder.

Bucky backed up. "You don't know anything about me." He growled.

Natasha slowly climbed the rungs. "You'll break his heart if you do this." She swung over the edge and crawled towards him.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

"Nope, you're going to have to jump or push me off, I'm not stopping."

His back bumped against the window sill.

"Nat, come on, be careful." Sam fretted.

"What the fuck are you doing….get away from me….I'll hurt you."

She could barely see his outline as he crouched by the window; the yard security light didn't help up here so she ran her hand across the roof and stopped when she felt his jeans.

"Don't fucking touch me."

She pulled her hand back.

"Barnes, you never let him finish a sentence tonight. We heard the fight…remember? 'Too fucking bad' you slammed the door…we took that as an invitation….so we listened."

"Fuck you."

"Whatever happened tonight…doesn't matter…he was trying to tell you how he feels but you wouldn't let him."

"Right…it's all my fault…exactly…..perfect Steve Rogers."

"Hard to be perfect when you're an idiot. He's an idiot, Barnes…we all know it. So does he." She settled her back against the wall to sit next to him.

"Right…he's an idiot."

"Barnes…so are you…we all know it…except Steve…he thinks you're perfect."

"Right…I'm an idiot….except what?"

"You can do no wrong in his book. He says it everyday…sometimes in words, but always in how he looks at you, trusts you, believes in you; worries about you; how all of this…the house, the security, the work, everything is about you. Before that day in DC; the day you reappeared for him; he was lost…going through the motions of living in this century; that moment when he said 'Bucky' everything changed. He lives only for you. Every breath he takes is a breath for you."

Bucky mumbled "Liar."

"I get it…hard to trust a Widow. But right now I'm talking to you as Natalia Romanova…your teammate, your housemate, and, believe it or not….your friend."

Bucky didn't have a comeback.

Sam laid down on the picnic table. "Damn you Barnes."

Natasha had her tenuous moment with Bucky…she wasn't going to waste it. "Pain is a tool…you already know this; we, you and I, the former assassins, know this. It can make you stronger or….it can make you vulnerable." "Barnes….You are in serious pain."

"You don't know…"

"Yup..I don't know anything about you…but I do know about pain and what happened to you. So shut up and listen for once….listen to the actual people in your life…not those fucking voices."

Bucky shifted to rap his metal elbow into the wall to signal his frustration with her.

"Pain makes you vulnerable….you are in pain…own up to it." She decided to get right to the good stuff. "Sex doesn't fix this kind of pain…it's a bandaid on a gaping wound. Steve doesn't want to be the bandaid and neither do you."

"Who are you now…my psychotherapist?"

"Hardly…but getting one….not a bad idea, Barnes." He was still there…still listening….this was more time sitting near her than in all the months before this, combined. They were sitting side by side; knees up; nearly touching. Natasha kept going; "You should know this….we've known about the voices for awhile now…hard to miss, when you carry on more of a conversation with your own head in an hour than you say to us in a week."

Bucky offered an obligatory "Fuck you."

"Maybe consider talking to us more…well beyond 'Fuck you.' We might engage." She noticed Sam sprawled out on the picnic table and took pity on him. "Here's the deal…Sam and I are going to bed. We've had all the Barnes and Rogers show we can handle. You can run…we can't stop you. If you run…he'll chase you…as always…but as I recall, it worked out so well the last time…some say that insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting different results."

She felt his knee brush against hers; she could feel the light pressure; she wondered if he noticed it. "If you stay….there might be a whole new world of possibilities. Some say the best part of fighting….is making up….but you'll have to stay to see about that." Natasha placed a kiss on her finger; Bucky turned to look at her. She carefully touched the back of his hand and pressed.

"Sleep tight. Barnes…see you in the morning." She slid down the roof to the ladder and climbed over. He frowned as he watched her go.

Her head popped back up. "No more banging."

He heard her whisper loudly as she got to the ground; "No more talking to the voices….out loud….use your indoor voice." Sam followed her back inside.

What the fuck was that. Damn Widow.

Bucky decided maybe she had made a couple of good points. Although he'd never admit it. "Fuck it." So he curled up on the roof and finally dozed off.

Sharon was impatiently clicking and unclicking a pen as she paced by the freight elevator. Her boot heels were echoing in the nearly empty loft space. A bank of monitors encircled a young woman. Fury stood beside her; bathed in the eerie glow of the screens. Overhead lights dropped pools of harsh whiteness onto a long folding table set up near the computer station. A sudden clang signaled the arrival of guests; the cranky mechanics of the elevator lurched into motion.

"Finally." Sharon moaned. Fury looked up expectantly.

The doors opened and Steve shoved the grate aside.

"What? This is bullshit." Sharon made no attempt to contain her disgust. She glared at the elevator's occupants: Steve, Natasha and Sam.

No Barnes.

Fury crossed to meet them "We're glad you could make it." He leveled a pointed glance at Sharon.

"So Sharon…what's bullshit?" Steve was in a foul mood given the last 24 hours.

"You know what's bullshit…he's not here. You said he'd be here."

"No. I said I'd ask the team if they would be here. Three of us are here. One is not. He gets to choose. We all do."

"This is a big game to him. He's playing games here with our time and money."

"Is that what this is about…time and money?" They were toe to toe now.

Fury moved to deescalate them "This is not about time and money. It is about actionable intelligence to take down Hydra. We are ready to listen and work with you…three of you or four or two or one. Let's get focused people." Fury made a gesture to invite them all to settle in at the table.

Steve glanced around the room. A wall of brick to his left; behind them the elevator, a metal door to the stairs; four windows to the right; four windows straight ahead…one with a fire escape. The only egress to the roof…the stairway. "He'll use the fire escape." Steve had decided to spend the ride over predicting Bucky's next move. He'd already spent the night and most of the day replaying their fight…."time to move on to more positive musings" as his therapist had advised. Steve sat at the head of the table; best view of the room; and furthest seat from Sharon.

"Well this is cozy." Sam quipped as he took a seat near the center.

Natasha made her own internal assessment that centered around Sharon and sat next to Steve.

The screens flashed barely readable lists of data; Sharon started talking; the debriefing lurched forward.

Steve`s attention quickly slipped back to the tense exchange on the porch before leaving; "Bucky…this is our chance to start working together. You don't have to talk to them…just listen..just stand there…I don't care."

"I'm not going to talk about Mot….about that stupid woman."

Steve knew he meant the old Widow, not the other stupid woman, Sharon. He was really hoping Bucky would move on from name calling. He understood the motivation but….But now was not the time to bring it up. "Come on Buck, we'll take the bike."

"No Steve, I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Bucky snarled.

"Ok…then let's take the truck."

"NO.

"Then go with Sam and Nat…

" NO fucking way…no back seat shit."

"Buck come on…grow up…just fucking grow up." Steve roared off watching Bucky in the rearview mirror.

Sam and Natasha's focus was about as good as Steve's. No one had slept. Sam pondered how he could drug Barnes at night so they could all get some rest.

Natasha doodled picture of knives and birds.

Sam rocked back and forth on two chair legs, nearly falling backwards at least twice much to Sharon's disdain.

The debriefing droned on until Fury redirected again, "Ok, I think we've beat this to a pulp…let's talk about what we've got for actionable items."

Sharon rose and stood at the end of the bank of screens.

Natasha felt a chill go down her spine. A whisper of the Red Room instructors breezed by in her mind.

Sharon opened with; "Gieta Sokolov the Black Widow Hydra operative, has provided us with some credible action items on operations in China, Brazil and Spain. All locations are being investigated…."

Natasha smirked to herself "That Widow played you pretty well…she gave you a whole lot of nothing to keep you busy." She thought about the 'Barnes Thesis' as they started calling it; his Hydra data on stickie notes. His data was detailed, workable, real and dangerous. They had done their homework; if they went forward with it….everyone would be at risk, more than ever. Especially Barnes. Natasha wondered about Sharon as she stared intently at her; trying to feign attention. "So why no access to the Widow? Why so intent on being in the same room as Barnes?" Sharon had thwarted Natasha at every turn when she tried to get one-on-one time with Sokolov. And the obsession with Barnes was …getting more disturbing by the day.

Sam pushed the folding chair back to balance on two legs again. "Are you getting to a point here? I`m not hearing anything that we can act on, unless you need us to sort through paperwork or go undercover as garbage men…persons…no offense to trash collectors, I mean where would we be without them? In a pile of …."

"Sam!" Steve seemed to reenter the world. He leaned forward and tapped on the table….covering the faint scrap of the fire escape window opening. "Sokolov is a pro…everything you've brought up tonight is barely workable."

Natasha sighed and stretched…drawing in Sharon's gaze to distract from the shadowy figure stalking her.

Sam leaned back one more time and had to catch himself with his toes on the bottom of the table to keep from falling. The distraction was priceless.

Sharon glared at him. "This is what we have currently…of course if your friend, Sergeant Barnes had bothered to show up and share what he knows then….."

Her tirade was interrupted when the woman at the computer screamed "SHIT!"

Sharon wheeled around to collide hard with the chest of one James Buchanan Barnes.

She stumbled awkwardly backwards. He stared down at her. The coldest Winter Soldier expression on his face. Actually it was more than cold…it was angry. It wasn't a hard look to accomplish; he very much wanted to intimidate her. Her hand reflexively went for the gun at her hip.

Everyone reacted; "Whoa…hey…" "Stand down Sharon…." "I can't believe I have to keep stunning you…"

Fury stepped between her and Barnes. "Settle down, Sharon…you need to take a seat."

He turned to face Bucky. "Sergeant Barnes, glad you could make it." "Nice entrance." Steve thought he saw Fury smirk.

Bucky kept eyes on Sharon; his stare backed her into a chair at the far end of the table.

His gaze switched to Fury standing directly in front of him. Bucky`s head twitched visibly.

Steve recognized the change in his eyes, "Damn. That Voice just talked to him." "Ok, pal, don`t lose it…" Steve encouraged silently.

Bucky studied Fury closely then quietly confessed "I killed you. I thought you were a ghost."

"Nope, very much alive." Fury confided. "You did do some serious damage." Fury let out a short laugh. "Damn near succeeded, but I`m a tough old bird..hard to kill." He poked a finger into Bucky`s chest for emphasis.

Shit…he touched us….he`s not dead.

Bucky looked down at Fury's finger solidly poking into his chest. "Good. Glad I failed. One less to haunt…" his words faded.

Steve glanced at Sam and Nat; they all had the same thought; they gathered around Bucky who had moved to a seemingly random spot away from the harsh lights and computer screens.

"Glad you made it." Steve whispered.

Bucky shrugged. He wanted Steve to think it didn't matter to him. He was driving by and just happened to notice the bike and thought he'd drop in. But it did matter…very much. He hated that anyone would use the word 'vulnerable' about him; he was the Winter Soldier…not a persona viewed as vulnerable. "So..no more mooching rides; no more hiding the intel; no more puking." It was easy to fulfill the first one; the second one was in his pocket and well the third one didn't work out so well as he anxiety puked just before leaving and cleaned it up with the good towels…since he was still kinda pissed at Steve.

Sam caught him up "They want the information…we have your thesis…what do you want to do? Your call."

Bucky dug in his pocket and tugged out the crumpled papers he pulled from the shoe box in his closet. He had knelt on the floor of the bedroom right after Steve left and tore through the written memories. "Who goes first?" He had worried; there was no shortage of targets spanning his memory.

FINALLY… a mission. So many to choose from Soldier. That one….they starved you for months. Wait…that one used you in their fight ring. No..no…forget those….this one…go after this one…they raped you…

"Enough! This isn't about me. Remember? We don't give a shit about what happened to me…water under the bridge….our mission is bigger than revenge."

Bucky's hand shook slightly as he held the notes out to the three of them; Natasha took the papers and closed his fingers carefully. "We've got this, Barnes." She whispered as she and Sam took his intel notes and brought it to the table for Fury and Sharon.

"This is credible intel." Fury remarked.

"It's old intel." Sharon countered.

"It is being corroborated by what we already know times three…making it credible."

Steve stood with Bucky in a darkened corner of the loft; Bucky had refused to go much further into the room. Steve knew the drill; pick the best vantage point for threat assessment; surveillance; exits. They were on the same page.

"I know this took a lot for you to be here, Buck." Steve whispered.

Bucky shrugged. But Steve could see the beads of sweat on his forehead; the paranoid way he scanned the room; the faint tremor that hadn't been around much lately.

Natasha relayed the details between Bucky and Sharon. He pointed, nodded or grimaced. All of which were easily read by his housemates.

Sam was recording the proceedings on the tablet.

"This is not good enough. He needs to participate, he needs to sit down and talk to us about what he knows…not use you as some damn go-between." Sharon was standing too closely to Natasha, who was not backing down.

"Barnes….are you participating here?" Natasha called back.

Bucky nodded.

"Am I getting your point across?"

He gave her a metal thumbs up.

"Do you feel you need to sit down?"

He gave her a metal thumbs down.

"You're all coddling him. This is ridiculous." Sharon huffed.

Bucky gave her the metal middle finger.

"I do love some things about you Barnes…that is one of them." Sam laughed. "It's so meaningful being metal and all."

"Well this was a fruitful meeting everyone. Thank you." Fury stood to signal the wrap up.

Steve, Sam and Natasha headed for the elevator.

Bucky looked at the fire escape; the stairs; then back at the elevator.

"Sergeant Barnes can I have a word." Fury approached him.

Steve waited. He watched Fury talk at Bucky; who stared at his feet; then shook his head slowly; he saw his jaw tighten; heard the arm whirr and plates shift.

"They ok over there?" Sam asked.

Natasha added 'He looks pissed."

Sam wondered aloud "Doesn't he always look pissed?"

Steve decided to intervene "Everything ok here?"

Bucky set his jaw and nodded as he pushed past both of them.

"Anything I should know about Fury?"

"No. Just some routine details, I'm sure he'll fill you in. We'll be in touch then." Fury walked away.

Sharon called as the elevator clunked into place "We need to fit him for weapons and a uniform."

Natasha shook her head and smiled. "No worries…we're all set. We took care of that."

The team took the elevator; Bucky took the stairs.

Bucky left the truck in a darkened empty parking lot over a block away from the warehouse.

Good sight lines, Soldier, no surveillance, plenty of escape routes…..always thinking.

He heard Steve call to him as he left the warehouse grounds; he kept walking.

"Bucky wait up. Wait." Steve ran to catch up.

"Hey, come on, are we really going to do this." Steve stepped ahead of him trying to slow down his pace. "Come on…talk to me…we need to get past this."

Bucky swerved around him; turned his head away from him.

"Buck..I'm sorry. I should have told you the truth along time ago."

"I already know the truth…I told you that last night…you're perfect..I'm a screw up. End of the line, pal."

"Bucky!" Steve grabbed his arm.

A metal fist stopped millimeters from his face.

"Whoa…really? Is that how it is?" Steve let go of his arm and threw his hands in the air.

Bucky growled "Don't touch me…I don't want you to touch me. Ever again."

Steve shook his head and let him walk away. For a few seconds he thought "The hell with this; give up; he doesn't want you." Then he thought about the odds that he and Bucky would ever find one another again after everything that had happened. He replayed Bucky's fall from the train; his own icy tomb for fifty years; he remembered the shock of seeing him again in DC; that look on Bucky's face on the helicarrier; even Bucky admitted that gave him hope.

"Nope. Not giving up now." He caught up when Bucky was at the truck. Steve grabbed his arm again and spun him around. "This has to end…"

Bucky shoved him back and reached for the truck door. Steve moved to block him. "No. No more running away."

Bucky growled with actual menace; "Get the fuck out of the way, Steve."

"You've sulked long enough; you need to hear me out."

Bucky snarled and reached for the door again.

"You're not leaving until I have my say" Steve put both hands on his chest only to be thrown aside. He scrambled back and slammed into Bucky from behind. The hit was hard enough to force a grunt from him. Steve threw his arms around him and drove all of his weight and strength into pinning him against the truck.

He felt the kick of the metal elbow but they were so close; so tightly wrapped around him, the elbow had little effect.

Bucky threw his head back; Steve was ready, driving his forehead into Bucky's flesh shoulder.

He felt the downward slide of his body; an attempt to gain an advantage; he drove his knee up deep between his legs. "Nope..not going anywhere..Buck…not until you hear…me ….out." Steve held on tight…fighting to contain Bucky's struggle against him.

He thought "Was that a whine? A moan?" He was sure he heard something else interrupt Bucky's constant growl in this fight.

"Stop just stop struggling and listen." He shook him. "I…I want to be with you…" Steve gripped harder as Bucky shuffled and twisted.

"Listen to me…I feel the way you do…your confession last night…you didn't give me a chance to tell you …should've told you sooner…I can't face this life without you."

"Fuck you…you had your chance…you said it ….I'm too crazy for you…"

Steve strained again to hold onto him. He could hear Bucky's breathing get ragged and strained.

"No…not what I said. What I said was…should have said…I want you to make the choice…I want you to decide what happens next…you've had no choice for so long…no freedom for so long..I don't want to force you to do anything."

"Really? Then what's this all about? You're fucking holding me in a deadlock with your fucking knee in my groin and your cock…your hard cock pressed up my ass. So I gotta choice here?"

Steve thought he sounded more petulant than angry.

Steve started laughing. "You might have a point…but here's a counterpoint ..you could have gotten away from this…I'm not trying that hard to hold you…remember…we've fought for real…I know you can match me…I'm not even sweating." He whispered the words so his lips would brush against his ear.

Bucky groaned again "Get your fucking cock off me."

Steve hesitated…then…. he ran the tip of his tongue slowly along the length of his neck and whispered "No. I want it there. So do you."

Bucky moaned. Steve was sure of it; his cock throbbed against his jeans; against Bucky.

"I don't want this. I don't want you." He twisted and pushed against the truck.

"You could get out of this, Buck" He bit at his ear. "You want this…just like I do." He loosened his hold enough to let him twist towards him.

"I hate you."

He heard the real uncertainty there. "I don't believe you." Steve pressed harder against Bucky; as he freed one hand to cup his face towards him.

"I don't want this…let me go…I .." Steve's mouth overwhelmed his words.

He grabbed at his hair and pulled him in; holding their kiss tightly bound; refusing to let Bucky pull away. He felt him give in; felt him push his ass back to give pressure for pressure against his groin; he groaned as Bucky's tongue pushed deeper into his mouth.

Steve shifted enough to let him roll to face him. Their mouths were pressed close; he felt the strength of Bucky's flesh hand slid across his ass and under the jacket; pulling him even closer.

He swallowed hard as he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and tugged; not yet ready to open them; but searching for Bucky's permission. He stroked his fingers across his bare skin. Bucky drew in a ragged breath.

Steve leaned his head back slightly; watching the hungry expression in Bucky's eyes; he waited for him to take what he wanted. He wanted the next kiss to come from him.

"Your choice, Buck..what now?" Steve rasped.

Bucky gave him a long look before he leaned forward chasing after Steve's mouth; anxiously reaching to connect; his metal hand grabbed at the back of Steve's head and pulled him in.

Steve slipped open the top button of Bucky's jeans. His fingers gently pushed the zipper down.

He felt the shudder go through him. Heard the strangled gasp.

"Wait…wait…" Bucky's hands stopped pulling him in and were now pushing him.

"Shhh, it's ok." Steve tried to settle him; he wanted to keep the kiss going; he wanted to keep his hand within reach of Bucky's cock.

"Stop it…Steve…please…I can't… I can't do this." He sounded scared. More scared than Steve had ever heard. He whispered "Please let me go."

Steve stepped back enough to give him room to breath. "Buck…I'm sorry..I thought…you were ok.."

"I know, I know…I did too…" Bucky fumbled with his pants and turned away from Steve.

"Did I do something …wrong….well...besides put you in a full body hold and force you to kiss me…other than that." Steve ran a hand through his hair. He was starting to regret putting his hands on him in the first place. He quietly willed his cock into submission; there wasn't much he could do about the leaking.

Bucky huffed out a nervous laugh…"No…I…think I had…a…thing happen."

"A..flashback?" Steve asked quietly.

Bucky looked uncertain.

"A memory of something bad that gets triggered by a current event." Steve provided the definitition as he understood it.

Bucky pointed at him as he squatted down against the truck "That would be it."

Steve squatted next to him, their thighs touching, he could feel the faint tremor. "I never meant for that…you know I don't want to ever remind you of what they did to you."

"It's ok…I'm ok." But Bucky's voice was shaky.

"Maybe Romanova is right." Bucky offered quietly.

"You're talking to Natasha?" Steve was always the last to know.

"Well…she does the talking…I just growl and listen. But don't tell her I listen."

Steve was surprised by Bucky's insight.

"Well that's all any of us do with Natasha."

"I'm glad I stayed…I'm still pissed at you…even if I kissed you back."

"Stayed? I don't want to know do I?"

Bucky shook his head.

Steve waited then "What now?"

Bucky sighed "We try again?…later though….I need to think…"

Steve reached to mess up his hair…more. "Don't think too hard..you'll hurt yourself."

"Very funny…need a ride to the bike? Not safe out here late at night, in the dark, I can protect you." Bucky resorted to bravado as he tried to cover for his sudden change of heart.

"Who's driving?"

"I am."

"You don't have a license."

"Yes I do."

"Right…in what state?"

"New Jersey, California, Michigan…."

Bucky drove the truck home behind Steve on the bike.

Nicely done, Soldier. You got a little action without puking. He never found out about the problem.

"Yeah, yeah…I wasn't gonna puke."

But the problem. It's still a problem.

"Right no kidding. I can't get it up…it's a side effect…low libido..I know."

Well and the other problem.

Bucky sighed. "He called it a flashback. I'd call it a nightmare." He shook his head and rolled the window down to try and shake off the memory.

You handled it well, Soldier…now and then. If they had seen what it did to you on the inside they'd have done it over and over. You've learned well how to shut down.

"Shut up. Bad enough…I saw that ghost just now…I don't need you harping on me."

It was remarkable how that handler resembled your precious Captain.

"Yup…spittin' image."