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When Bucky was James Barnes, the sergeant of the Howling Commandos, he was a level headed person. He had his priorities set straight in line, even with the horrors of the war.
With his capture in the hands of HYDRA they took ten years to wipe his mind of anything that mattered to him. Especially Steve Rogers, his best friend. Twenty years until he was their perfect soldier.
But there is a space in his head that kept what was left of him intact.
Before, he had met eyes with the most startling green ones. Sharp face and dark skin; he remains the most beautiful little thing he had ever put his eyes on. His unruly black hair, heinous glasses and the way he looked above them to his face and smiled mischievous brought a tinge in his heart and even not noticing he became a fool.
Harry was his first love. His blinding smile and small figure, so warm and soft against his body when they danced in the dim lit bar cheek to cheek, kept him grounded in the real world even if he felt like floating. He in some ways reminded him of Steve in his brave and sometimes thoughtless actions. Made him nervous for his safety, having magic to save him or not. Harry was precious. Small and skinny but with so much cheek that he couldn’t help being fond of him and kiss him breathless; Harry made him breathless.
There were moments he felt like his heart would explode with so much love he felt. He wanted so much to have a life with Harry. Wake up by his side, warm and safe. He wanted to have him forever.
Harry made a place for himself inside his mind. A place no man could find him and take him away. He would remember about him forever. In the way he liked his tea, two sugars and cream and always jasmine, almost like a dessert. How he always smiled and tilted his head to the side when he made a compliment to him. His small sighs and furrow in his brow when he was slowly waking up. The sweet taste of his skin on the back to tip of his tongue; how liked to explore his mouth to find out how he managed to get so delicious and hummed when they separated mouth with saliva glistened in the dark.
He wanted to marry him. Ask his hand and beg for him to say yes.
So he did it. He asked him, in the same summer. He still can’t believe he accepted the ring, even saying that was too soon. They would be fiancés for now. One day they would get married and he could officially call Harry his. A promise he brought to the heart.
He is glad he didn’t see his face when Steve came back alone from the mission, one hand holding the only thing he could grab from him before he fell. His ring. He gave it to Harry and his fierce lion kept but he didn’t leave before he slapped Steve enough to turn his head and make him stumble while he blamed him for not bringing him back.
He would’ve chuckled and said ‘Easy, Doll.” Hugging his small shoulders and kissing his aching hand that would be hot with the magic behind the slap. But he wasn’t there. And Harry was alone.
He kept his face in a secret place in his mind. The last time they kissed. How he held him almost desperately and Bucky matched it. How they had for one last time made love with such gentle and careful movements. His promise that he would be back because Steve had a plan and his plans were working, so he got to trust the punk in this and to believe when he said that he would always come back.
Because he would, even if it was almost 70 years in the future.
The fresh breath of air after leaving HYDRA and leaving the blonde that claimed that his name was Bucky, but more importantly, he was James Buchanan Barnes, his best friend and he had a fiancé in the past called Harry Potter, was overwhelming.
He doesn’t remember Steve Rogers more than he remembers Harry.
His Harry, too small for his rip age of 24 years old, (‘The perfect size to fit in my arms, doll’ he says and kisses his pout and cheeks until he is smiling again), the brightest set of eyes he had ever seen (‘your eyes are like emeralds’ and they glitter when they look at him) his happy sighs when he sips his tea that was a little too sweet and nibbled his cookies (‘stop kissing me like that, you brute!’ he says giggling and trying to hold his tea away. James doubles his efforts to kiss his happy sighs inside himself) and he remembers his promise.
‘I will always find you, no matter the time I come back. I will look at the starts and ask out loud “Have you seen my heart?” Harry giggles, eyes glittering and another small sigh escapes his parted red lips he so loves to kiss. His cheeks are pink and he can’t resist kissing him again and again and again until he loses his breath and is buried in the love inside his skin that crawls through his spine and makes his heart beat. His name repeats against his skull the same way it pulses in his veins. ‘I will come back to you and we are going to get married in a nice small ceremony. I will hold and never let you go again.``
He searches who he is but finding himself seems less important than finding Harry.
Finding what happened to the only face with a name in his mind. Remembering him is like how he remembers the sunrise. He knows its warmth but he doesn’t actually remember how it feels until he has it against his skin again.
Living without Harry in his life was painful as it was losing his arm but ten times more. Harry was his other half, the person of his dreams, the great light in all the darkness and coldness of all these years.
How cruel the universe is to leave a man to live without his reason to breathe and stay alive.
Everything he can record is him and how painful it is to live in a world where Harry could be just another memory that is now buried in the ground.
So he searches for him after taking a look at what was left of his legacy.
He thinks maybe he would find him old and wrinkly in an old folks home or maybe a stone with his name when he visits the cemetery where his own sisters had been buried.
But then he sees it. A mop of unruly black hair from the back of a small figure with hunched shoulders and he freezes in the spot. They put their hand up and touch the stone, his sister Rachel stone, and from here he can hear a sniff. They conjure a stick, a wand, his brain informs fleeting, pale with knots on it and a crow of flowers appear in there and his hands tremble. He walks silently until he is a foot away from him and his heart beats uncontrollably in his chest when the person finally turns to the side.
His breath leaves him. His tanned skin seems washed out, but there’s a flush from the cold and maybe the tears. He still has the terrible glasses and the nose is the same; upturned in the end.
When he turns and their eyes meet, they both are shocked. The same startling green eyes like emeralds, glistening with tears. The same round mouth and the same sharp face. He is still small and doesn’t look like he aged a day since they last saw each other.
“Are you real?” he asks and it’s the same soft and raspy voice that whispers sweet nothings in his ears at night.
“You know… I did ask the stars if they saw you just the other night. I wasn’t sure they would answer but I think they did.” His own voice sounds unused and close to that emotion of coming back. Harry laughs breathlessly and steps forward unsure. He drinks all of it with eyes.
“Is that really you, James?” he asks with hope coloring his tone.
“I told you I would come back for you, Doll.” He says the only things that make sense to him and Harry steps surer again and again and he is running to his arms and he doesn’t hesitate to hug him back just as desperately. The warmth infiltrates his senses and he shivers with the cold going away from his frozen lungs and heart.
Harry clings on him, his legs wrapping around his waist and head tucked in his neck.
“How?”
“It’s a long story”
“I want to hear everything.”
“I will tell you everything you want to know”
“…Don’t ever leave me again” His eyes are huge and blinking furiously the tears making them shine brighter. Bucky gulps and caresses his face softly.
“I won’t. I promise.”
~*~
Months in the future, he wakes up with his nose turning as is tickled with hair from where Harry is his arms. He adjusts their position and presses a kiss against his forehead and Harry sighs that happy and lazy sigh that makes his lips twitch and his heart warm with affection and familiarity.
The explanations were simple when they talked and not at the same time. Impossible circumstances because that seemed to be their nature at this point.
Harry had been an anomaly in time. He missed a few years in the present and was placed in the past without any logical explanation. There they met and had fallen in love and became fiancees. The moment he disappeared and was abducted by HYDRA and between the days after Steve gave him his ring where hazy and then Harry was back in the future, confused and lonely. Grieving a lover they never found the body to bury.
He would visit his empty stone every day and give flowers to him and his sisters for two years. He gets the news that Steve is alive and decides on ignoring it, bitter that he was alive and his husband James wasn’t.
In turn, he tells Harry what happened as much as he can. Harry doesn’t flinch nor looks disgusted by him. He just holds him in his arms and scratches his longer hair. He says with that same fierce fire in his eyes he remembers that everything was going to be okay and the people who did it are going to pay. The same is also the feeling of his soft lips against his. The taste of his sigh is just as sweet as he thinks they were. He is soft under him and molds against his body.
They didn't do anything that day. Harry guides him to get help within the magical community after a few days. The months in the intense therapy are hell but Harry is the one who takes his triggers away. He is the only one he trusts inside his brain.
Later they would look to talk about what they would do about his crimes as the Winter Soldier and set things straight. But after Harry says the words and he is free of the compulsion of changing into Winter, the only thing he wants to do is touch him and remind himself of his warmth.
With sloppy and barely coordinated open mouthed kisses, hands and fingers too tight in his exposed skin. Dragging his mouth through his collarbone and pinching his nipples with barely there pressure but enough that his mouth opens with a silent whine. Dizziness spreads through his whole body and mind when Harry opens his legs with erotic flexibility and blinking away overwhelmed tears when the man uses his mouth and then his fingers. He fucks Harry, clutching his body tight and desperate, body covering as much as he could because the idea of space between them was too much and Harry is there, kissing his lips multiple times in a wet and intimate way, shuddering around him with an orgasm and doesn’t push him away after he finishes. If he is too heavy for him, Harry never complains.
They lie together and drink water and do it again and again, through the day and early night.
One night he looks at his ring, - Harry had indeed kept it in a charmed box in his closet and had given him the same day they found each other again - and looks at Harry preparing to bed, his eyes tracing his naked flesh as he feels tempted to drag him back to bed and make love to him again.
“Do you still wanna' marry me?” he asks and sees how Harry freezes for a moment but then looks at him with a smile as he softens.
“I have been waiting to marry you for 70 years, you fool. I think it’s been long enough for us to marry now” he giggles and Bucky kisses the smile of his lips, trying to swallow his happiness inside his veins.
“Let’s do it then”
And they do. Harry calls for his old friends and even brings their cat. Alpine looks disgruntled with her frowning face while she holds their rings on her back and walks at them but she does it anyway.
Their wedding is small and private and they feed cake in each other’s mouth. Bucky kisses his face and smiles like a fool for making him giggle like mad as their guest coo at them but he doesn’t care.
He finally has not only his mind back but he gets his heart too. It’s all he could ever have asked for.
The stars blink in the sky and they feel like a wink.