Never Have I Ever…" pt. 2.10

Chapter 12


Steve sat on the deck, enjoying the warm afternoon and a second beer. An hour later he stood up, deciding to check on Bucky. He collected the two empty bottles and went back inside the cabin. He looked to the left to see Bucky was still sound asleep, but had partially kicked off the afghan. Steve realized that it probably hadn't been needed as Barnes was still wearing jeans and a tee and the temperature inside the cabin was around 75 degrees. A nice mountain breeze through the windows kept the internal temperature of the cabin really comfortable… unless, of course, your friend decides to cover you with an afghan while you're fully clothed.

He watched Bucky for a moment as he slept and had to smile. The day had been a really good one in every way. Although Steve had known Bucky could ride, as he'd witnessed him a few times using motorcycles to escape apprehension, they never had gotten the chance to enjoy the activity together. The weather had been great for hiking to the falls and they were given some time to just sit quietly overlooking the valley below. Bucky had been shy and a bit awkward with the two young ladies, who'd shown interest in them on the trail, but he'd loosened up a little bit when they saw the girls again in the parking lot. Of course, Steve realized now that perhaps he'd only waved and smiled at them because Steve told him to. That was a little strange to Steve, to see Bucky stressed and anxious around females. He'd always been the lady's man back in the day.

Lunch under the shade trees at the little tourist spot and not one, but two, ice cream treats were enough to make Bucky's day… the group of veterans who'd taken a chance and approached them – Steve smiled with the memory of it. Seeing Bucky's tears finally fall, after two years free from Hydra – had been the one thing Steve had been waiting for. He'd come close many times, but had not been able to release them… until today. He really thought Bucky was going to finally let it all out the day of the altercation with Tony out on the lawn. The cry he'd let out after putting Stark on the ground was so full of anguish that Steve was sure it was going to happen then… but it hadn't.

Steve pulled himself out of his reverie and went to the kitchen to deposit the empty bottles in the recycling bin. He grabbed another cold one from the fridge and walked back to the living room. He looked down at Barnes and took a sip from the bottle and smiled with a thought.

He went to the little kitchen table, grabbing a chair and bringing it quietly back to the living area. He set it down and put the bottle down on the floor beside it. Squatting down, he reached carefully under the futon for his sketch pad. Returning to the chair, Steve took a seat and flipped open the pad to a clean sheet of paper and proceeded to sketch his friend in peaceful slumber.

Steve finished the sketch before Bucky awoke so he took the time to add some finishing touches he wouldn't have gotten to do if Barnes had awakened before he was able to complete it. He smiled softly as he rubbed his thumb on the paper, blending the pencil marks and softening the details of Bucky's hair or adding shading to his lips or cheeks. He even managed to soften the details of the plates on the metal arm.

Steve figured he must have more than fifty sketches of Bucky saved in a number of different sketch books. Barnes was Steve's favorite model. He'd never admit it to anyone, but one of the reasons he enjoyed sketching Bucky so much was because he could fantasize discreetly. Nobody ever knew that - as Steve rubbed his finger to blend the shading on the lips in the sketch – that he would imagine doing that exact thing to the living model. The only person that he knew of that had an idea about his true feelings for Bucky was Natasha. Sometimes that woman was far too observant for her – or his – own good.

She'd made comments that alluded to the fact that she knew how deep his affection for Barnes really went… and it went far beyond just being the best of friends. He couldn't tell Bucky that though, because as much as he yearned to hold him and touch him; what Steve feared most was losing Bucky altogether… especially after learning about the horrific abuse Hydra committed against his friend.

As Steve focused on the minute details of his sketch, Bucky stirred on the futon and Steve raised only his eyes to check on him as his fingers blended the marks on the page. When Bucky's eyes opened, Steve slowly closed his sketch pad and smiled, waiting for Barnes to wake enough to notice him sitting there.

He watched as Bucky stretched languidly and yawned; still unaware of Steve's presence, so Steve took in the sight without saying a word. Steve's eyes were drawn to Bucky's bared belly as he stretched lazily on the futon and his tee shirt rode up a bit, enough to bare some skin for Steve's enjoyment. Barnes rubbed his hand over his face and blinked at the ceiling as he slowly got his bearings. He rolled over and paused, resting on his right elbow when he saw Steve sitting in a chair a few feet away just smiling at him.

"Hey," Bucky greeted him quietly.

"Hey," Steve replied.

Bucky glanced around as the last vestiges of sleep finally released him. He noticed that Steve was holding his sketch pad in his lap and he smiled with a touch of shyness.

"Were you drawing me again?" he asked. His tone hinted at the fact that he was sure Steve could find something better to draw if he tried.

"Do you mind?" Steve asked, the smile still dancing on his lips. Bucky let out a breath and his gaze shifted to Steve as he gave the question serious consideration.

Bucky grinned and shook his head. "No… I don't really mind. I just think you could probably find something better to draw if you bothered to look beyond me."

"Now why would I want to do that?" Steve asked, smiling softly at him. Bucky held his gaze, noting the soft tone of Steve's voice. He shook his head as he tried to think of something to answer his question, but Steve interjected before he could say anything. "Nothing else grabs my interest as much," Steve told him truthfully and stood up. "You're my favorite model," he shared with Barnes as he moved the chair back to the tiny table. "You always have been," Steve added, reminding Bucky that he'd been drawing him since they were kids.

Bucky sat up and watched Steve move about the area. He liked looking at Steve as much as Steve seemed to like looking at him; at least enough to satisfy his artistic itch when he needed a model any time he got the urge to draw.

Steve settled the chair at the table and turned to see Bucky watching him with a soft expression on his face. "You okay?" he asked, just to be sure.

Bucky smiled wider and nodded. "Never felt better," he said. His smile faltered slightly as he realized that was actually the truth. He felt as though a huge weight had been taken from him. He let his thoughts drift back over the events of the day they'd shared and his expression shifted slightly as the memory of the veterans at the ice cream shop came back to him.

"Buck?" Steve's voice traveled to him and he looked up, refocusing his attention and he smiled. "You okay?"

Barnes laughed softly and stood up. "I am," he said, nodding with a smile. "I'm going to change," he told Steve; grabbing a pair of shorts and a fresh tee shirt from his bag and heading to the bathroom.

He came out a few minutes later, looking refreshed. He'd combed his hair, washed his face, and put on fresh clean clothes. He'd pulled off his socks that Steve left on his feet when he'd taken his boots off. Now he walked about the cabin, Steve realized, looking like he belonged on a sunny beach somewhere with a surf board under his arm. That image made Steve pause and he tilted his head as he watched Barnes moving about, putting away his clothes and making up the futon so they both could use it later. It wasn't the first time Steve had seen Bucky in shorts and a tee and walking around barefoot, but something about him was different this time.

Bucky finished putting the futon back in order and turned around. He had to sweep his long hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear just as he noticed Steve watching him. Bucky didn't ask, he just smiled back… and that's when Steve realized what had changed. It was Bucky. He actually looked like the weight of the world was no longer on his shoulders, weighing him down. His steps were lighter as he walked through the cabin; he smiled wider and his eyes looked so much brighter. It was as if the storm cloud that you could imagine always hovering over him had been replaced by sunshine.

What had taken place this afternoon with the other WWII vets, had a profound effect on Bucky. As he saw it, he'd been absolved of his sins. He'd been shown mercy and compassion by his peers and, for Bucky it all amounted to being forgiven. That's not what the men were doing, because even they knew he had nothing to be forgiven for, but he knew that's how Barnes had taken it.

"You want a beer?" Steve asked, holding the refrigerator door open.

"Yeah, thanks."

He retrieved two bottles and closed the refrigerator door. Turning toward Bucky, he cocked his head toward the open door of the cabin. Bucky nodded and headed in that direction. Steve met him at the door and handed him a beer. They stepped out onto the deck and paused, looking at the lake. Bucky guzzled half the bottle as he stood there thinking back on their day out.

"Let's sit in the shade," Steve suggested, gesturing toward the picnic table under the trees down by the lake.

They spent the final hours of the late afternoon there. When Steve had returned to the cabin to fetch two more beers for them, he'd grabbed a deck of cards and a box that contained a checker board and pieces. They'd spent half an hour playing checkers and the rest of the afternoon playing gin rummy.

They talked and laughed and Steve was finding it more and more difficult to pull his eyes away from Bucky's. There was a spark in those deep blue eyes that hadn't been there before and it seemed as though he lit up each time he laughed. A couple of times, Bucky seemed to notice that Steve was staring at him in that way and dropped his gaze back to the cards in his hand with a shy grin. Steve would notice and avert his attention; trying not to make Barnes uncomfortable, only to look back to see his cheeks had flushed a rosy color and that would capture Steve's attention yet again.

As the sun began to set, they packed up the cards and the game and headed back into the cabin before the bugs had a chance to put a damper on their night. Once inside, Steve put away the games and stood for a moment, listening to how quiet it was once the sun went down.

"Want some music?" Steve asked and Bucky looked at him confused.

"We have music?" he asked.

Steve smiled and nodded, pulling open a door that Bucky had thought was a linen or coat closet. Instead, the cubby inside contained a small stereo with just six inch speakers and a stack of CD's beside it.

"It's not much," Steve told him, "but it does the job." He mentioned and flicked the lever to CD. He opened it to see if there was a disc inside the tray. It was empty so he asked, "Anything in particular you want to hear?"

"Nope," Bucky replied as he turned on a light and settled on the futon with his book. "Something soft, I guess."

"So, no Iron Maiden, Run for the Hills or Motley Crue, Helter Skelter, huh?" Steve mentioned with a smile. That made Bucky chuckle as he opened his book to the page on which he'd left off.

"No," he replied with a grin and Steve looked over his shoulder with a big smile.

Steve settled on an instrumental. He knew Bucky loved Tchaikovsky's violin compositions, so he put that on and kept the volume on low so it played softly in the background as they settled in to do what they each loved to do. Bucky read his book while Steve opened his sketch book and tilted his head as he watched Barnes.

It looked like Bucky was completely engrossed in his book until a smile crossed his face and he turned the page. "Are you going to draw me, again?"

"I like drawing you," Steve told him honestly. "You have an amazing look," he told his friend. Bucky kept his head still but raised his eyes to look at Steve as if he wanted to ask what that meant. Steve simply smiled at him and offered the answer. "You don't realize how… beautiful… you are."

Bucky chuffed a laugh of disbelief. "Please," he replied, shaking his head.

"You don't believe me?" Steve asked. Bucky looked at him squarely this time and shook his head no. "I'll show you," Steve replied and moved to sit next to Bucky on the futon. Once he got settled comfortably beside him, Steve opened his sketchbook and flipped to the first picture which was the last one he'd drawn and tilted the book so Bucky could see it.

Bucky's mouth opened slightly in surprise as he looked at the sketch Steve had done while he was asleep this afternoon. Steve watched Bucky's face and the shift of his expression as he got to see for himself exactly how Steve saw him. He glanced from the sketch to Steve's face and then back at the sketch as he let the book he'd been reading fall closed beside him. He reached for the sketchbook, his heart bounding in his chest.

He looked at the sketch, with its soft lines and carefully blended shading. Bucky swallowed and licked his lips as they suddenly had gone dry. He slowly turned the page to see another sketch; this time it was just his face, a portrait. He wondered what he'd been thinking about when Steve drew this one; his expression was focused but seemingly focused inward and captured perfectly by Steve's pencil. He slowly flipped through the whole sketch book as Steve watched him closely. There were a couple of sketches that made him catch his breath and a few times he'd clenched his jaw to hold back emotions. The one that pulled at him the most was the one he'd declined to look at the other evening… when he'd posed shirtless for Steve. He had tried to hide his metal arm behind his raised knee but Steve had directed him in how to pose… Bucky had to swallow back tears when he saw how in Steve's vision, his metal arm; intrinsically powerful in the mechanics of its creation, appeared exquisitely subtle in the details and graceful in its movements as if constructed, not by men, but by nature.

"This whole book is… me?" he asked as the realization hit him. Steve really did think he was worth drawing. So many sketches, so many poses and different expressions… captured in time because Steve couldn't not save it for himself.

Steve nodded with a soft smile. "There are four more books in my closet at home."

Bucky looked at him, stunned. The two friends just sat for a moment, looking at each other. Bucky really wanted to lean over and kiss Steve. He could barely contain himself, but what he didn't realize was that Steve really wanted to lean over and do the same to him. Steve's urge, to crush Bucky's mouth against his own, rose in time with the violin crescendo playing in the background and as the dynamics of the music slowly transitioned into a softer diminuendo, Steve suddenly pulled his gaze away from Bucky's and took the sketchbook from his hands.

"So… you going to let me draw you again?" he asked as he moved to the other side of the futon. Steve tried to make it look as though he put the space between them so he could get a full view of Bucky to draw, but in truth, he needed to put that space between them before he did something he'd probably regret.

Steve sketched for about half an hour when his stomach rumbled loudly. He paused and looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was nearly 9:30 and he realized neither had eaten since lunch. He looked back at Bucky to see him smiling now, but kept his eyes on the page he was reading.

"You heard that?" he asked and Bucky chuckled softly and nodded. "Are you hungry?" Steve asked and Bucky's eyes lifted from the page to look at him as he considered the question.

"I am," Bucky answered and put the book down. "What've we got?"

Steve thought about it and then grinned, "How about steaks on the fire?"

"Yeah," Bucky replied.

They cooked their steaks, along with a couple of baked potatoes and ears of corn, over the fire down by the lake. To their surprise the bugs weren't that bad tonight or maybe the fire was keeping them away. They sat across from each other at the picnic table and were in the process of killing a six pack with their meal; neither could feel the effects of alcohol, but they both enjoyed the taste.

"So," Steve began as he pierced a baked potato and brought it to his plate. "What do you want to do tomorrow?" he asked as Bucky buttered a piece of bread.

Bucky looked at him as he finished buttering the slice of bread and put the butter knife down. He proceeded to wrap the buttered bread around his corn cob and twisted the bread up and around the cob. Steve grinned at him.

"What?" Bucky asked as he placed the corn back on his plate and took a bite out of the soggy piece of bread.

"Nothing," Steve told him and then opted to tell him. "It's just… you've been doing that since we were kids."

"What?" Bucky asked, not understanding to what Steve was referring.

"The corn… the bread… never mind," he said still smiling.

"Well, how else you going to butter corn on the cob?" he asked.

Steve picked up an ear and simply laid it down on top of the stick of butter and spun it around. He melted the stick across the top but it had the same effect as Bucky's bread. Bucky deadpanned then shrugged and Steve laughed softly.

"How about we go fishing tomorrow?" Steve suggested, getting back to his original question.

"Sure," Bucky replied off-handedly as he chewed a row off the cob. Steve paused as he cut into his steak and looked at Barnes. "What?" Bucky asked as he turned the cob, searching for another spot to start gnawing on.

"You don't sound very interested," Steve told him.

Bucky stopped half way down a row and licked the butter off his lips. Steve watched him closely, finding himself enthralled at the play of his tongue over his lips now shiny with greasy butter. Bucky noticed Steve staring at his mouth and he grinned, letting his tongue glide over his bottom lip and then chuckled softly as Steve shook himself back to the present.

"What were we talking about?" Steve asked, trying to act casual.

"Umm, fishing," Bucky told him as he dropped the greasy cob onto his plate and proceeded to lick his fingers. He made a show of it for Steve's benefit and did his best not to grin as he did so.

Steve watched him lick his fingers clean and lost his focus until Bucky stopped and chose to finish cleaning his hands with a dry napkin. Steve tried to swallow the lump in his throat and grabbed his beer to wash it down. Once he put his beer down, he looked back at Bucky who was looking at him expectantly.

"What?" Steve asked and Bucky couldn't help but laugh; they seemed to be saying that to each other a lot lately.

"Fishing," he reminded Steve again.

"Oh! Right… so you wanna?" Steve asked. Bucky just grinned at him. "What?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah… I wanna," Bucky told him, but his almost seductive tone made Steve's brow furrow.

"Are we still talking about fishing?" Steve asked and Bucky smiled.

"Yes, of course," he said, looking down to pick up his corn again, but paused before taking a bite and looked Steve in the eye. "What else would I be talking about?" His tone practically dared Steve to say what he knew he was thinking… then began slowly gnawing on the corn again.

Steve realized he had actually been hoping that Bucky was talking about something else. He was getting so many mixed signals… just like the night they played Never Have I Ever with the team. Steve's thoughts went back to that night and he remembered Natasha smiling at him as if she knew his secret… and she appeared to be amused by it. What did that mean though? Did Natasha know something that he didn't? Perhaps she knew how he felt about Bucky… or maybe she knew that Bucky felt the same way… was that it?

"Are we renting poles?" Bucky asked and his voice pulled Steve out of his thoughts.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Poles," Bucky repeated. "Will we rent them or do you have some?"

"Oh… I have some," he said. "We'll have to replace the line on them, but we can do that tomorrow before we go."

"We're not doing that get up before the crack of dawn thing, are we?" Bucky asked.

"Noooo," Steve told him. "We're just going out to relax; if we catch fish… great. If not, no biggie."

"Cool," Bucky nodded.

"You used to love fishing," Steve told him.

Bucky looked over at him. "Did I?"

Steve nodded as he popped a piece of steak in his mouth. "Yep, you loved it. You were always showing up at my door, asking if I wanted to go with you. My mom always smiled whenever you appeared at our door."

Bucky smiled at that. He didn't remember too much about their childhood. He did remember Sarah Rogers, but not all the details about her. He remembered what she looked like and that she was kind to him and she was a nurse. Whenever she came to mind he always saw her in her white nurse's uniform.

"We couldn't afford real fishing poles back then," Steve continued. "But you had no issue at all with tying a string to a stick and making it work."

Bucky smiled again. As Steve told him stories about the things they used to do so many years ago, sometimes a memory would form in his head. He was sure that the only way he'd ever regain any of his memories was because of Steve.

They finished their meal and banked down the fire and it wasn't long after the fire went out that the bugs invaded like an army. So they went back inside and relaxed a little, letting their late dinner digest before lying down for the night.

Steve took a shower while Bucky finished the chapter he'd been reading. When Steve came out, he said good night and went to the bedroom. Bucky took his turn in the shower and settled again on the futon. By midnight they were both sound asleep.