Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

xxx

Steve visits the nursing home that night after work. It’s a fifteen minute ride past his stop and by the time he makes it to the reception desk, there’s only thirty minutes left of visiting hours. Under the relationship column, he hesitates before scribbling family caregiver. They give him a visitor’s sticker and directions to her room that are simultaneously specific and vague. The receptionist’s tone made it clear that asking more questions would not be welcomed.

He walks down the hallway, a strange blend of hotel decorations in a hospital setting with the underlying smell of antiseptic and wholesale floor detergent. He finds the room, and gently knocks before opening the door. An old, frail-looking woman with thin white hair lays on the hospital grade bed in a semi-seated position. There’s an armchair by her bed and a small brown dresser next to the closet door. A small TV is mounted near the ceiling and angled down like a security camera.

“Hello,” she greets in a creaky voice.

“Hi there.” He closes the door behind him. “I’m Steve. How are you doing?”

She stares at him, squinting her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Mind if I sit next to you?” he asks, slowly walking over to the armchair with a smile.

“Please. I’m glad you came.”

“You are?” Steve sits on the edge of the seat.

“Yes. I think we should stop these silly visits, Steve. You should move in with us. You’re family too,” she says warmly.

He pauses. “What?”

“It’s not right for you to stay in your apartment with all of Bucky’s things. What do you say? We can keep each other company. My parents and sisters all want you to stay with us. You can have his old room for now.” She reaches out a trembling hand and he holds it steady. “I’m moving out soon, so when he comes back, there will be enough room for him too. You can help him get back on his feet and the two of you can get an apartment again afterwards. Doesn’t that sound good?”

He looks into her eyes, a faded light gray color clouded with age, “Mrs. Proctor, do you know who I am?”

She blinks. Her face scrunches with suspicion and she pulls her hand back. “Why are you calling me that? Don’t tease me, Steve Rogers! Oh, Bucky must’ve blabbed to you about Tommy. That jerk! When I see him today, I’ll whack him over the head!” She harrumphs and looks away with her crossed arms.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” Steve soothes, trying to keep up with the jumps she’s having in her mind.

“You should be. He called me Becky today too. He knows how much I hate that.” She sniffs, lower lip trembling. “He’s the worst brother ever.”

“Hey, don’t say that. You know he’s just poking fun. Guys are stupid like that. We all know your real nickname. Do you?”

She sniffs again before nodding, rubbing her finger across her eyes. “It’s Becca.”

Steve leans over. “It’d be sad if he came back and the first thing you did was yell at him over such  a small thing, right?”

“He didn’t care about making me sad when he left this morning!” she snaps, breath hitching. “He…he’s keeping us waiting. We’re all waiting for him and he’s late. That’s so rude. Momma’s gonna tan his hide when he comes back.”

“Becca, breathe. It’s okay that you’re upset, but let’s talk calmly about it.”

“No! He promised me he’d be back, and he’s so late, Steve. Doesn’t that make you angry?”

“You know what I do when I get angry? I take ten deep breaths. Four counts in and four counts out. Would you please do them with me? Yeah? Okay great. I’ll count. Follow me.”

They go through the breathing exercises. On the final breath out, Steve lets the silent linger for a few moments before gently tapping her hand. “Becca? How are we feeling?”

She blinks, as if coming out of a daydream. “Oh, I’m sorry dear. What were we talking about?”

There’s no recognition in her eyes, so Steve starts over again. “Nothing in particular. I’m Steve.”

“Oh, how lovely. Thank you for visiting an old woman like me. My name is Rebecca Proctor.”

“I’m so happy to meet you,” Steve says with a smile.

She yawns. “I’m sorry. I’m suddenly so tired.”

“It’s late, but I’ll come back to see you soon. If that’s okay with you?”

“I would never turn down good company. My kids live so far away now, so I don’t get many visitors.”

“Where do they live?”

She tilts her head. “You look so familiar. Have we met before?”

“No,” Steve huffs out a laugh, “I’ve been told I just have one of those faces.”

xxx

The next morning, Steve takes Bucky to see the Rockefeller Center tree. 

“It’s Christmas Eve,” he says through a yawn, clutching the coffee he bought from a breakfast cart. “Figured we should see it before the crowds make this place unbearable.”

“It’s huge,” Bucky says in awe. “I can’t believe they’re still doing this.”

Steve shrugs. “It’s a New York tradition now. It’s too bad you’re seeing it during the day instead of at night. The lights look better than they do now that it’s morning.” 

“Can we come back tonight?”

“Steve will be home by the time the crowds are gone,” Natasha says.

Bucky looks at Steve. “Do you want to stay over so we can see the tree properly?”

“No, that’s not appropriate since I’m your caregiver. Natasha can bring you though.”

Bucky frowns and looks away. “Right. Nevermind then.”

Natasha glances around over the top of her coffee cup. “I’m not available anyway.”

“There really isn’t any time off from saving the world, huh?” Steve remarks.

“Who said anything about saving it?”

Steve glares at her flatly. “That’s not funny. Don’t joke because I’ll believe you.”

She hums, smiling as she takes a sip of her coffee.

xxx

“This might be too late to ask you now, but is there anything special you want to do for Christmas?”

Bucky looks at him. “You’ll be here right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“That’s enough for me.”

“You saying my presence is present enough?” Steve teases.

“Yes.” Bucky turns over his drawing pad and holds it up. “What do you think?”

It takes Steve a moment before he can look away from Bucky’s face to his drawing. “You’ve got the shape right, but your shading is too heavy-handed near the bottom.”

“That’s where the shadow is.”

“Yeah, but it shouldn’t be so dark that the orange gets lost in it.”

Bucky frowns. “Show me your drawing.”

Steve flips his drawing pad over. Bucky scoffs in disgust, and turns his pad around. He pushes his hair out of his face, leaving a charcoal streak over his temple, and mushes his kneading eraser to the paper.

“You don’t like my drawing?”

“Stop fishing for compliments. You know it’s better than mine,” Bucky grouses.

“Aw, don’t be like that pal. You can’t compare apples to oranges,” Steve says, grinning widely, wiggling his pad. “Get it?”

Bucky flings his eraser at him. “Shut up.”

Steve laughs. “Seriously though. Nothing special you want? For real?”

“I already told you. Christmas is about being around family and friends, not gifts. You’re all of that to me.”

Steve swallows down his rising feelings. “What about food? Do you want holiday ham?”

Bucky thinks for a moment, and then looks slightly bashful. “Can we have tacos? And those crispy Chinese noodles with the chicken sauce? And the stuff from that soul food place in Brooklyn?”

Steve jots the requests down on the corner of his drawing with a smile. “You got it, Buck. We’re having an international Christmas feast.”

“Everything tastes so good, Steve. We used to just boil things all the time.”

“You ain’t gotta explain yourself to me, pal. I get it. Food is life. Love is life. Ball is life.”

“Ball is life?”

“It’s a meme.”

“Meme?”‘

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you up on internet stuff all in due time.”

“I don’t have the internet.”

“You have JARVIS. And,” Steve continues with a flourish, “you have me.”

Bucky smiles slowly. “Yeah?”

“A thousand percent.”

He looks away as his smile gets bigger. “Good thing you’re showing me art instead of math. You’d be terrible at it.”

“Hey!”

“Percentages are only out of a hundred.”

“It’s hyperbole, you jerk. You got my meaning didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Bucky glances back at Steve. “I got you.”

“We got each other, capeesh?”

“Capeesh?”

Steve heaves a sigh. “Just fix your damn oranges. Pop culture lessons will start in the new year.”

Bucky flinches, but says, “Give me back my eraser.”

Steve tosses it over to him. “Don’t throw it at me if you need it.”

“Don’t be a punk then,” he shoots back. 

Steve laughs, feeling good and silly. Bucky starts chuckling too. It builds between them into the stupidly dangerous kind of uncontrollable laughter where they’re red-faced, clutching their stomachs, and gasping for air.

xxx

When it’s bath time, Bucky asks to soak a bit before using any soap.

“Do you want to call me in when you’re ready?” Steve asks.

He shakes his head, leaning against the tub. “Stay. Keep me company.”

Steve averts his eyes and sits on the facade, facing the wall. The only sound in the room is the light humming of the vent. Bucky occasionally moves, and Steve will hear water splash against itself and the bathtub. It’s nice. Soothing. Steve could easily fall asleep if he isn’t careful.

“I’ve been practicing taking showers,” Bucky says, his deep voice startling Steve out of his lull. The sound of it echoes in the room, raising goosebumps on his arms and making his heart tremble in his chest.

“Oh yeah?”

Bucky hums. “I’m getting good at it. It has to be the right temperature though. More hot than warm. Natasha told me I need to use lotion afterwards if I don’t want to have dry skin.”

“That’s true. Moisturizing is important, especially if you’re cranking up the heat.” Steve glances down at Bucky. His eyes are closed and Steve takes a moment to admire the way his dark eyelashes fan over his pale skin. “What made you decide to try the shower again?”

“It’s practical. Faster than taking a bath and I can do it alone.”

“You could take baths alone.” 

Bucky blinks up at him, pupils big like Alpine’s when she’s begging for treats. “Are you sick of helping me?”

Steve shakes his head. “You know I’m always happy to support you in any way you need.”

“But you won’t always be around,” he murmurs, looking down at the water. “You shouldn’t be here anyway. I can wash my own hair now. There’s nothing scary about baths.”

Steve doesn’t know how to read him. “I’m confused, buddy. Do you want me here or not? I can wait outside while you do your thing.”

“I don’t want to make you do it.”

“Bucky, you’re not making me do anything. Where’s this coming from?”

“I know I’m a lot to handle.”

“You’re not,” Steve reassures. “You know I don’t think that way about you. I’ve told you before. I just think you’re lazy about your baths, but it’s okay. Nobody’s perfect.”

“I can wash my own hair.”

“Do you want to? I can sit here while you do it.”

Bucky sinks deeper into the water until his chin is submerged. “I want you to do it as long as you’re here with me.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. Alright?”

Bucky takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Ready for soap now or you want to prune a little more?”

Bucky stares straight ahead at the wall. “I’m ready.”

Steve smiles and turns to him. He cradles Bucky’s head, thumbs gently rubbing at his temples. He tilts Bucky’s face towards the ceiling so he can still breathe. He pushes Bucky down to get his scalp wet. Their eyes catch on each other. Steve hopes his face isn’t as red as he fears it might be. “There you go, pal. You feeling okay?”

Bucky’s steel blue eyes flicker away for a moment. He swallows and Steve’s gaze follows the way his throat moves. “I feel good.” 

Steve smiles and tugs gently so that Bucky knows to sit up. “That’s what I like to hear. Shampoo time!”

xxx

Afterwards, Bucky asks to listen to music again like they did yesterday.

“Sounds good. We can probably get up to the 70s if you stay awake this time.” Steve looks at him and adds, “We should wait until your hair is dried first. You’re going to get the pillows wet if you lay down now.”

“I don’t want to wait.” Bucky walks into the bathroom and comes out with a blow dryer. “Can you help me?”

“Yeah.” Steve looks around and spots an outlet behind the couch that appears to be in reach of the dryer cord. “Why don’t you sit here? You’re too tall to be standing if we’re doing this.” Steve unplugs the lamp and plugs in the blow dryer. Alpine sniffs at the wires, batting at them curiously. Steve pushes her away, but she circles back immediately. “Fine. But no biting.”

He turns to Bucky, and sees him covering his ears with his hands and staring at the floor. 

Oh. I see.

Steve taps Bucky on the shoulder so that he looks up and lifts his palms off his ears. “I’m going to start on low so it’s not that loud. Is that okay?”

Bucky nods, pressing his hands against his head again. Steve turns it on. 

Alpine jumps and quickly scurries away, body puffed out in fright. 

Steve gently runs his hand through damp, dark hair while aiming the blow dryer at that area. After a couple of minutes, he sees Bucky’s shoulders relaxing. Eventually Bucky’s hands fall down on his lap and his head hangs forward, brushing against Steve’s stomach. Steve holds the dryer away and turns it off. He gently nudges Bucky’s head. 

Sleepy, steel blue eyes peer up at him through dark lashes, making Steve’s heart throb.

“You doing okay, pal?”

“Yeah. It feels nice.”

Steve grins. “Okay then. You know you can lean on me,” he sings, making Bucky smile. “That was a sneak preview of the playlist. But seriously, I don’t mind.” To prove it, he lets Bucky’s forehead touch his stomach again and strengthens his stance to support the extra weight. 

He jumps when he feels Bucky’s hands on the back of his thighs.

“Is this okay too?” Bucky murmurs against Steve’s sweater.

Steve gulps, hoping fervently that Bucky can’t feel how fast his heart is beating. “Around the knees is fine.”

Bucky hums and adjusts his hold so that his arms loosely encircles Steve’s legs, hands interlocking around the top of his calves.

“Okay, ready?”

Bucky nods against him. Steve struggles with the swell of affection expanding in his chest. Steve flips the dryer on and brings it back toward Bucky’s hair. Steve feels the soft rumble of Bucky’s voice against his stomach, but can’t hear what he’s saying.

Steve holds the dryer away. “What did you say?”

“Nothing important.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Are you cool with me turning up the speed? It’ll be faster, but it’ll be louder too.”

He shakes his head, almost nuzzling into Steve. “It’s fine as is.”

Steve directs the dryer back on Bucky, and gently works his hand through his hair. He’s hoping that by the time he’s done, his face will not be as red as he feels it is.

xxx

Christmas Day comes.

They spend time listening to more music, playing with Alpine, and watching different documentaries.

They have Mexican and Chinese food for lunch, and take a nap an hour later on the floor with the removable couch pillows. Steve wakes bleary-eyed and jerks back when he sees Bucky looking at him.

“Don’t do that, Bucky,” he croaks. He clears the remnants of sleep from his eyes and throat.

“Don’t look at you?” he asks.

“Not while I’m sleeping.”

“But I like looking at you.”

“Do it when I’m awake, or else it’s creepy.”

“What if I were drawing you?”

Steve laughs and brings a hand behind his head, striking a pose. “Like one of your French girls?”

Bucky blinks. “When I was in Paris, all I did was drink and sleep in between planning our next steps with the Howlies and the brass. I hardly had time to look at girls there long enough to get more than a smile, much less anything else.”

Steve scrunches his face. “It was a Titanic reference. The scene where Jack is sketching Rose.”

Bucky turns his head away, but Steve catches the pink on his face. “Oh. Right.”

“And it would still be creepy, so don’t do that either.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” He rolls to the side and pushes himself up, rolling his shoulders to get the stiffness out. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.”

Steve walks over to the sink, averting his eyes from the mirror. He doesn’t need to look at his reflection to know he’s blushing. Or maybe he’s afraid to look because he’ll see Rogers, appalled that Steve dares to have his face and these feelings for Bucky.

“Idiot,” he scolds himself. He splashes cold water on his face, squeezing his eyes shut against the self-recriminations in his head. 

xxx 

“You wanna take a bath now, pal?” Steve asks, stepping into the living room where Bucky is laying on the floor playing with Alpine. He dangles a finger over her head and she swats and bites at it playfully. 

“Sure.”

“I’ll get it ready for you then.”

“No, I can do it.” Bucky rises to his feet, Alpine meowing in protest, and walks over to Steve. “I’m better now, so I can do it myself.”

“Okay, go for it. Do you want me to come in later and wash your hair so you can soak a little now?”

“No, I can handle it. Thank you.”

Steve blinks, surprised. “Oh. Okay then. Enjoy. I’ll check the restaurant to see if the dinner order is on schedule to arrive.”

Bucky nods and heads into the bedroom to grab a change of clothes. Alpine trots after him, and rubs against the bathroom door after Bucky disappears behind it. She rises on her hind legs and paws at the door before turning to look at Steve for help.

Steve shrugs. “He wants to do it on his own, girl.”

Alpine blinks at him, and goes back to pawing at the door.

xxx

Dinner is a soul food feast. Baked mac and cheese. Jambalaya. Gumbo. Collard greens. Fried chicken. Fried catfish. Corn bread. Candied yams.

Dessert is peach cobbler and sweet potato pie.

Steve eats two plates before tapping out.

Bucky keeps eating while Steve watches on with fascination and mild concern. Where does he put it all? “If you’re full, we can pack it in the fridge and you can eat it tomorrow.”

Bucky scrapes away the last of the cartilage from the chicken bone he’s been gnawing on. “Okay,” he says before reaching for another drumstick. Steve thinks he hears Bucky make a cartoonish chomp sound when he bites into it and laughs under his breath. Bucky finishes the drumstick before declaring that he’s done, and helps Steve pack up the leftovers into the fridge and load the dishwasher.

“Okay, before I pass out from all the good food we ate, I got something for you.” Steve reaches inside his backpack and pulls out the gift with a flourish. “Tada! Merry Christmas, Bucky.” 

Bucky looks stunned. “Steve. No. You didn’t have to. I’ve got nothing for you.”

“I wanted to do this. Don’t sweat about getting me anything.” He slides the wrapped box across the table to Bucky. “I hope you like it. I saved all my pennies for this.”

“All your pennies?” Bucky repeats, looking upset. 

“Not really, no,” Steve laughs. “Don’t worry, it’s not that expensive. Open it!”

There’s too much wrapping paper and the tape Steve used to hold it together isn’t applied smoothly. Regardless, it’s the inside that counts, and it irritates Steve to discover that of course Bucky is the type to carefully unwrap gifts. He moves slowly to prevent damage to the wrapping paper, even though it’s not a particularly nice design and it’s partially faded from sun exposure. It’s worth the wait though when he sees Bucky’s amazement at The Lord of the Rings series box set.

“Your own copy of your favorite books this year.”

Bucky touches the covers reverently. “How much did you spend?”

“Can’t ask the price of a gift, buddy. You just give thanks and enjoy it.”

“Thank you, Steve. It’s really nice of you.”

“You’re welcome, pal. You deserve it and so much more.” Steve checks his phone for the time. “Alright. I’m heading out while I still have the energy. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Bucky trails closely after him. When Steve pulls his coat from the closet, he turns to Bucky. “Is there something you need?”

“Um. I have something for you too.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve straightens out his coat sleeves. “You shouldn’t have. What is it?”

“You don’t have to work with me anymore after next Thursday.”

Steve freezes, every muscle locked up as if someone had punched him hard enough to break bones.

“What?” he asks in disbelief.

“I told Natasha that your job is done at the end of the year. I’m better now, and I’m grateful to you. But you don’t need to watch over me. There are other people who need your help more than I do.”

Steve, in all his years in this field of work, has never had a client tell him his end date with them. It feels like he made a misstep somewhere. It feels like he’s being fired, despite Bucky’s reassurance.

“I’m glad you’re better,” Steve says in his professional voice. He means it, even if his chest is tight. He smiles too, and hopes it doesn’t look as unnatural as it feels. 

Bucky’s lips twitch, the skin of his bottom lip slightly sucked in as he struggles to say more. “We’ll still be friends, right?”

“Of course. It’s to the end of the line. Not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I’ll miss you. I’ll miss seeing you nearly every day.”

“Don’t miss me yet. We still have four days together. Let’s make them great.”

Bucky nods.

Steve gets in the elevator and turns to see Bucky watching him. “See you Monday, Bucky.”

Bucky slowly lifts one corner of his mouth in a small half-smile.

The door closes and Steve is confronted with his reflection in the steel, professional smile still plastered on his face. The longer he looks at himself, the more his reflection changes. He looks like he just got dumped. Which is ridiculous because that isn’t what this was. He knows that. It’s a job. He’s done this many times before with other people, this same bittersweet goodbye. 

But his stupid feelings don’t know the difference.

“JARVIS, could you please hold off on opening the door when we get to the lobby?”

“Certainly, Mr. Grant.”

Steve presses the heels of his hands into his eyes to ground himself. He does the ten count breath exercise. When he looks up again, his face is still dry. 

“Okay. I’m ready,” he says with determination. 

The door opens.

Steve leaves Avengers Tower.

xxx

Steve doesn’t hear anything from his manager that night. No email. No text. No calls.

There’s only a goodnight text from Bucky.

He reaches out to Natasha on Saturday.

Bucky said my assignment is done on Thursday. Is that true?

Three hours later, she responds.

We’ll talk on Monday.

xxx

Steve keeps busy all weekend. Laundry. TV shows. Visits friends, old and new.

He makes a playlist of current hits for Bucky. Then he thinks about Bucky. Then he thinks about not thinking about Bucky. 

All the while Steve misses him preemptively.

It’s exhausting. He resolves to take time off work after the year ends.

xxx

Monday comes and Natasha stands across from him in the Jackson Pollock conference room. She’s in her tactical body suit and Steve is conscious of the fact that he’s wearing the same outfit he wore on his first day.

“We’re offering you a bonus for your excellent work. You only need to sign here to accept and agree to the deposit.” She slides the document across the table.

“Thank you.” Steve reads it, pauses, and looks up at her. “Uh, I think there’s a typo. It’s one too many zeros.”

She smiles. “The amount is correct.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Steve, what did we say about that word?” She tilts her head, red hair fanning out behind her. 

“Um. I don’t have my bank information memorized.”

“It’s fine. Sign it and I’ll have it deposited now.”

“Now? Wait. How do you have my information?”

“JARVIS has it.”

“That is a gross violation of privacy.”

She laughs airily, as if tickled by what he said. “We have paperwork with your consent to obtain that information.”

He sighs, running his hands through his hair. “This is too much, Nat. It feels wrong.”

“This is nothing. Your work is worth more than every trinket in the Met Museum combined. If I were you, I’d negotiate for more.”

“More than this?”

This being fifty thousand American dollars. This being more than his annual income.

“Steve. You’re in Avengers Tower, formerly Stark Tower. You must have an idea of the funding behind everything.”

Fair point. 

“Is this really what he wants? Or is he being forced to do this?” Steve blurts out.

Natasha purses her lips to the side. “It’s entirely his decision.”

“I see.”

“You did nothing wrong. This isn’t a separation agreement. It’s an appreciation bonus.”

“Right.” It still feels like hush money though, or a hefty consolation prize.

He signs it and slides it back to her.

“I tried to talk him out of it, but he was determined,” she says as she taps on her phone. “Done. The deposit will hit your account within the hour. Any questions?”

“Who do I hand the Stark phone over to on Thursday?”

“Leave it on the kitchen counter before you leave.” She pockets her phone and pins him with her striking green eyes. “I’m leaving today on an assignment and won’t be back for a few weeks.”

Oh. 

Steve nods. He looks at her, takes in her sharp beauty, her fierce will, and her terrifying presence. He remembers how scared he was when he first met her, and it surprises him to realize that they’re friends. Maybe. He misses her all the same, and he aches a little, knowing this would be the last time he sees her in person without his life being in imminent danger.

He presses his lips together and wets them. “I hope we’ll still be friends after this.”

She laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

He winces, embarrassed. Right. Not friends after all.  

“This won’t be the last time we see each other,” she says with that sly, secretive smile.

Oh.

He grins. “Can I give you a hug?”

She walks around the table and wraps her arms around him. “Take care, Steve.”

“See you around, Nat.”

xxx

The elevator door opens. Bucky is there, anxiously waiting.

“Hi Bucky,” he greets with a smile.

“Hey Steve.” His steel blue eyes dart over Steve’s face.

“I brought you a couple of books for our last week together.” Steve shrugs off his backpack and drops it on the kitchen table. Alpine is already there and trills a greeting, her tail swishing with anticipation. She’s familiar with the routine, and is waiting to sit in Steve’s backpack for a while.

How long will she wait next Monday before she realizes I’m not coming?

Steve pets her head and lets her rub her scent on his hand. “That’s a good girl.”

He hears Bucky move closer to him. “It’s not our last week though, right? We’re still friends. We’ll still see each other?”

“Yeah,” Steve assures. He turns and jumps, surprised to see Bucky standing right behind him. “Jesus, Bucky! You learning sneak attacks from Alpine?”

Bucky doesn’t laugh. A small frown creases his face. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Of course not. Why would I be mad?”

His frown deepens. “You’re happy to go?”

Steve sighs. “I’m happy you’re better, that you can be yourself again after everything. I’m a little sad I won’t see you as much after this week. It’s a bittersweet feeling, but that’s okay. Life goes on.”

“You won’t forget me?”

“Pal, I can confidently say that you and this whole assignment is unforgettable. A thousand percent.” Bucky still looks so sad. “Hey, what’s going on? You look ready to cry.”

“Can I hug you?” he asks softly.

“Always. Anytime.” Steve holds his arms out and Bucky slips between them with an ease like he’s done it all his life. He bends down to Steve’s height so Steve doesn’t need to reach up to meet him. The gravity of Bucky’s body grounds him. It’s strange to say Bucky is being comforted by him when Steve is the one who feels safe and warm in his tight embrace. 

xxx

Steve gets a bank notification on his phone during lunch. He checks his account and chokes on his coffee.

Bucky immediately appears on his side of the table and firmly pats his back. “Are you okay?”

Steve waves him away and nearly hacks his lungs out to clear out the coffee that went down the wrong pipe.

“Give me a sec, Bucky,” he says hoarsely and disappears into the bathroom. He pulls up the messages he had with Not Natasha’s Number.

Why is my bank account higher by $105,000???

He splashes water on his face and by the time he checks his phone again, he has a response. Taxes. Don’t spend it all. Read legal documents better.

He looks at his reflection in shock. “Fuck.”

xxx

The days fly by, no matter how Steve tries to stretch their time together. Time, infinite as it may be, is still bound by the rise and fall of the sun in the sky.

His manager calls to confirm his end date. Steve gets his time off approved in the same call.

“I’m so glad you asked because I was going to force you to take a break,” she laughs. “You deserve rest, Steve. You can’t replenish others if your cup is empty.”

“Thank you.”

New Year’s Eve creeps closer and closer, and Steve does his best to prepare for their last day.

And suddenly it’s here. The last day of 2015. 

xxx

The elevator door opens. Bucky is standing in his usual spot, dressed to go out.

The last day of the year is on a Thursday.

“Good morning Bucky,” Steve greets.

“Hi Steve.”

“I got something special for you today. We’re gonna go on a field trip.”

Bucky furrows his brows. “Field trip?”

“Yep. I got permission from Natasha and everything. We even have a personal driver too.”

“Where are we going?”

“I made a new friend recently, and I’d like you to meet her.”

xxx

“Do you want to go in?” Steve asks.

Bucky stares at the doors to the nursing home with wide eyes, breathing heavily. “You told her I’d be here?”

“I said I would bring a friend, but she may not remember. I’ve come here a few times and there was one visit where she didn’t recognize me at all.” Bucky flinches, taking a step back. “We can go back inside the car, Bucky. If you’re not ready, we can go back to the city.”

“Did she talk about me at all, when she did remember you?” he asks, voice pitched higher than usual.

“Of course she did.”

“W-What did she say?”

“Do you feel ready to see her?”

“Steve. Please.”

He sighs. “Sometimes she thinks the war was a few months ago, and says that she’s waiting for you to come home. Sometimes she’s lucid and talks about her hero brother, a Howling Commando, who fought to keep the world safe.” 

Bucky squats down and curls his arms over his head, a wounded sound escaping his throat. “I’m not a hero.”

“You are. You have to know you are, Buck.” Steve drops to his knees beside him. “You’re a hero. They got you in a permanent exhibit in D.C. that proves it.You’re good. You’re so good. You were a prisoner of war for decades and you’re still so kind and gentle. I—” Steve bites his lip hard to stop himself from going further, swallowing his selfish feelings down. “I wish you could see yourself how I see you. How Natasha sees you too.”

Bucky’s breath hitches and shakes like he’s crying. 

Steve stays close, but doesn’t touch him. Steve glances up when he hears footsteps, and sees people approaching. They look at Steve with stone-faced sympathy as they pass them on the way inside the building. Steve feels his lips twitch up reflexively in acknowledgement before he focuses back on Bucky.

“We don’t have to do this. I’m sorry I brought you here without asking. I should have known better. What can I do to make it up to you? Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen.”

Bucky inhales loudly before exhaling. He finally looks up and Steve is surprised to see his face is dry.

“Buck?”

He gets up and looks at Steve, defeated. “I want to see her.”

“You sure? You don’t have to force yourself.”

His steel blue eyes remain steady on him. “I want to see my sister.”

xxx

Bucky walks through the doors and greets the person behind the front desk.

Steve says they’re here to visit Rebecca Proctor, and signs their names on the visitor sheet. He writes Family caregiver and Family respectively next to their names. He puts the visitor sticker on them and leads Bucky to Becca’s room.

“Ready?” Bucky clenches his jaw and nods. “Okay.” Steve knocks and then opens the door, hoping it’s a good day.

She’s sitting upright with her bed in a semi-seated position. A stack of pillows cushion her back.

“Hi Becca. How are you? I’m Steve,” he says with a smile as he walks into the room.

“Hi Steve,” she says politely. There’s no recognition in her eyes. 

Steve takes a deep breath and gestures to Bucky. “I brought a friend of mine to see you today. Bucky, come on in.”

Bucky steps inside hesitantly, but then gamely walks close to the bed with his hands clenched at his side. “Hi Becca.”

Steve stands near the door to give them space. His heartbeat thumps hard against his ribs.

She looks up at him, a little unsure. With every second that goes by in silence, Bucky freezes up. Just when Steve is about to intervene, her expression smoothes out. She smiles widely with glee. “Bucky! Oh, you’re here. You’re here! I knew you’d come back!” She reaches for him, and Bucky closes the distance between them, his hands outstretched to catch hers.

“Becca.”

Her frail, shaking hand lands on his left arm. Becca pulls away, looking shocked. “What is this?” she asks, patting the arm again.

He pulls his metal arm away and tucks it behind his back. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to touch it. It’s okay.”

“Oh Bucky,” Becca says sadly. “You’re hurt. You got so hurt.”

“I did, but I’m okay. Really. It doesn’t hurt me,” he reassures gently.

Becca reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as she can. Bucky puts his right arm carefully around her.

“I love you,” she breathes out. “You kept your promise. Everyone said I was stupid for waiting. They said you died in the war, but I knew you didn’t. You wouldn’t dare break your promise to me. Steve too! He was the only one who believed like I did. We never lost faith.”

Steve sees Bucky flinch. “Sorry I’m late,” Bucky says, voice raspy with emotion.

“I don’t care. You’re here now. Oh, I can’t wait until you see Momma. She’s gonna have kittens!” She looks around, eyes bright with excitement, before stiffening. Her smile fades away. “Bucky, where are we? This isn’t home. How did we get here?”

“Hey Becca. Look at me. Breathe.” Bucky directs her focus back on him, his right hand cradling her face. “Match your breath with mine, okay? Four in, hold, and then four out.”

Steve watches, unbearably proud, as they do the breathing exercise until she calms down. Bucky gently wipes her tears away.

Becca draws back suddenly, looking confused. “Sorry, what were we talking about again?”

“Nothing important. You were telling us how happy you’re feeling today,” Steve says, stepping in and placing a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Ah, that’s good. Sorry dears. My memory is unreliable these days.”

“I know the feeling,” Bucky says. “We’re two peas in a pod.”

She laughs. “That’s something my brother used to say.”

Bucky smiles softly. “Yeah?”

She hums. “He was a sergeant in the war. The second world war, I mean. Goodness, we’ve had so many.”

“What happened to him?” Bucky asks.

Becca glances at the window, her eyes unfocused as if she can see something no one else can. “They say he was killed in action. Got a note from the army and everything. But I never believed it. Call me crazy, everyone did back then, but he made me a promise the morning he left. I’ll be right back, Becky. Just gotta do some fighting first. That jerk. He knew I hated being called that.”

Bucky clears his throat. “What do you think happened to him?”

“He probably fell in love with some girl overseas. Got married and had a whole bunch of kids. Forgot to come back because he got hit in the head hard enough that it messed with his mind or something.”

Bucky swallows. “That’s a nice thought.”

Becca smiles at him with foggy gray eyes. “Isn’t it?”

A knock sounds and the door opens. Steve looks and there’s a woman in scrubs with a tray in hand. “Becca, it’s time for lunch. Are you hungry or do you want to wait until your visit is over?”

“Could I please have a few more minutes, my dear?”

“Of course.” The nurse says, and walks away, her sneakers squeaking against the floor.

Becca settles back in her bed, rearranging the blanket to her liking. When she’s satisfied, she turns her attention to Bucky. “You look so much like my brother when he was young. I almost thought I was seeing a ghost.”

“Maybe you did.” She makes an inquiring hum and Bucky smiles in that sad, vulnerable sort of way of his. “See a ghost, I mean.”

It breaks Steve’s heart.

She huffs out a laugh. “My, my. Young people these days have such a sense of humor. Listen to me carefully, my dear. I’m old, so that means you have to do as I say. Don’t joke about being dead before you are. Living is a singular gift you won’t ever get again.”

“Wouldn’t bet on it,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“Did you say something?” she asks, glancing at Steve.

“No, ma’am.”

“Hmm, where was I? Oh, yes. life. Don’t waste it on sadness, young man. Spend it on happiness. Be happy. That is the only true way to repay a good mother’s work. And if your mother wasn’t good, then do it anyway in spite of her.”

“My momma was the best,” Bucky says.

“As she should’ve been,” Becca declares with an approving nod. “Mine was too. And my children will remember me in kind if they know what’s good for them.” She laughs heartily before it fades into a yawn. “I’m sorry. I get tired so easily now.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be on our way. We’ll have someone bring your lunch now and then you can nap after you eat. Does that sound good?” Steve asks.

She hums, sinking deeper into the stack of pillows.

“We’ll come back,” Bucky says.

She smiles up at him trustingly. It transforms her face into something young. “That’d be nice. Thank you…what’s your name again, young man?”

“Bucky.”

“Haha! That’s my brother’s name too. How strange.” She yawns again.

“Let’s go, Buck.” Steve holds out his hand.

Reluctantly, Bucky walks out of the room. Steve follows, and closes the door behind him.

“How are you doing?” Steve asks. Bucky doesn’t speak, his eyes stuck on the floor. “Bucky? Can you check in with me please?”

The quiet lasts for a long moment.

“She remembered me. She waited for me,” Bucky says in a thready voice.

“Yeah, she did,” Steve responds gently.

A door opens down the hall and the nurse appears. “Is Becca ready for lunch?” she asks upon seeing them.

Bucky turns away from her.

“Yes. She’s feeling sleepy. We left so she would have energy to eat,” Steve answers.

“Okay, I’ll be right over,” she says as she opens another door and greets the person inside.

“Thank you,” Steve calls out. She waves at them.

Bucky sniffs and raises his head. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Are you good? Yeah? You think you can handle one more stop?”

He nods. “Where are we going?”

xxx

Greenwood Cemetery is a twenty minute walk from the nursing home. They make it in fifteen.

The driver said he’d circle around looking for a closer parking spot when Steve told him they’d prefer to walk there. “Call me if anything changes,” the drive had said.

Now, standing at the main entrance underneath the gothic spires and arches, Steve peeks at Bucky from the corner of his eyes.

“This…this is where my grandparents are buried,” he says, staring up at the entrance.

“Natasha helped me do the research to find this. I thought if you saw Becca, you should visit the rest of your family too. Tell them you’re back home yourself.”

Bucky swallows. “Yeah. That’s fair.”

“We don’t have to do it today if you can’t. Becca was enough of a big surprise.”

Bucky looks at him. “You won’t be here any other time.”

“What are you talking about? Of course I will. If you want me with you, I’m there. We’ll make it work,” Steve insists. “It’s okay to turn back if you’re not ready.”

“You’re here now. We both are.”

“Do you feel ready?”

Steve trembles as he waits for Bucky to answer, the cold winds chilling him to the bone.

“Stay with me?” Bucky finally asks.

“Yeah, pal. I’m here,” Steve says. To the end of the line.

The cemetery is a sprawling, hilly property. Steve doesn’t know exactly where the Barnes family is buried so they end up wandering down a couple of wrong paths. When Steve looks up after huffing up an incline slope, he can see the skyscrapers of downtown Manhattan.

“Get a load of that view,” he says to Bucky, only to be startled when he turns to see him walking down another path. “Hey, wait up!”

Bucky glances at him. “I think it’s this way.”

He leads them further in until he stops abruptly in front of a headstone and falls to his knees. Steve squats down to read the names. George Barnes. Winnifred Barnes. To the left of it were two other headstones with the names Elizabeth Barnes Millard and Louisa Barnes Ellis etched in them.

“Ma,” he croaks out. “Ma. Pa. I came back. Sorry I’m late. Sorry if you expected to see me on the other side.” His eyes shift to the other gravestones on the right, and he falls over on his hands. “Beth. Blue. How the hell did you two go before me and Becca, huh? You know that’s not the order of things. Oldest goes first. I can’t believe you left Becca by herself.”

Steve clears his throat softly. “Becca told me about it, if you want to know.”

“How?” he asks shakily.

“Beth got sick in her later years. Fought hard against it and won a few rounds, but it took when she was in her seventies. Louisa—”

“Blue,” Bucky corrects sharply. “She hated that we all had b-nicknames and she didn’t. This little terror demanded we come up with one she liked for her eighth birthday.” Bucky chuckles weakly. “Can you imagine that, Steve? Youngest of the bunch got us all huddling together and scolding us when we said something she didn’t like. What a tyrant.”

“She sounds great.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sniffs. “What happened to her?”

“Car accident. Happened a year after Beth was gone. Becca said it was over in an instant. No pain.”

“She’s lucky for that,” Bucky says, clenching his jaw. His eyes narrow on the other names that share his sisters’ tombstones. “Who are these guys you two married? Did I know of them? Did Pa approve? They better have treated you two right. Come tell me in my dreams, okay? I’ll rip their bones out if they didn’t.”

“Ah, let’s not talk about grave desecration. We don’t want to add a felony count to your situation.”

“They won’t catch me,” he says darkly. “I won’t let them rest next to my sisters forever if they were bad husbands.”

“...Okay, we’ll talk about that later.”

Bucky looks to the left of his parent’s plot and freezes. “Steve. That’s mine.”

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. March 10, 1917 - February 1, 1945. Beloved son and brother.

“Yeah.” He glances at him. “Must be weird to see.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a moment, stuck staring at the gravestone. “Did they bury an empty casket?”

“Becca said they put your favorite things in there. The ones they could part with anyway.”

Bucky stares at his grave, looking as though he’s having an out-of-body experience.

Steve cautiously eyes the tombstone to the left of Bucky’s and swallows nervously. “You got one more person to visit.”

Steel blue eyes slowly blink up at him before following the path of Steve’s arm gesturing to the next plot. His breath hitches. “Steve.”

“Becca told me the cemetery where his parents were buried had no more room so they paid for him to be here with you. Said it felt right since you two were inseparable.”

Steven Grant Rogers. July 4, 1918 - December 13, 1945. Beloved son and friend.

Steve gasps softly when he reads the last engraved line.

I’m with you ‘til the end of the line and beyond.

Fuck.

Fuck.  

Did Bucky ever truly see him? Is he standing at his own grave too?

Steve shakes his head. He can have that crisis later in the privacy of his apartment. He’s on the clock now.

“Steve. Steve.” Bucky crawls over to that grave, fingers digging into the cold, hard dirt. “1945! What happened, Steve? I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there.”

“He got sick that winter. Pneumonia.”

Bucky covers his face and a horrible, despairing groan wrenches from his chest. Steve has seen Bucky cry before, but this is different. Steve feels like he’s watching Bucky crack open, revealing the hurt child within. Lost and scared in the face of his dead family. “Why didn’t you keep warm? How many times did I tell you?”

“Bucky, it’s going to be okay. Breathe.” Steve places his hand on his back, hoping it will help anchor him to the present and keep him from being swept away by the force of his grief. 

“I can’t leave them, Steve. I can’t.”

Alarm bells blare in his head. “No. Bucky, don’t say that. Don’t think that.”

“I can’t, Steve. I can’t.”

“No. This isn’t where you end, Bucky. C’mon. Take my hand. Let’s get you home.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No. My family is here. This is where I belong. It’s where I should’ve been all this time.”

“What about Becca, huh? You really want to leave her again?”

“Becca…she doesn’t recognize me. She won’t remember I was there.”

“But she’ll have good days. She’s still here, isn’t she?”

He shakes his head. “Why is it so hard, Steve? Why can’t you leave me here? I’m so tired. Why didn’t I die?”

Steve grits his teeth. “Well that’s not what happened to you, and you don’t get to give up after everything you did to survive. You hear me? You can be sad here for as long as you need, but you don’t get to stay in that sadness. It’s hard. Trust me, I know how hard it is and how easy it is to stop and give up. But that’s not the way we do things. We carry on, and we lean on each other when we feel like we can't do it anymore. So lean on me, Bucky. We can come back and visit everyone as many times as you want, but we’re gonna go home after each visit and keep living.”

Bucky cries harder as if Steve had condemned him to prison. Steve rubs his back with one hand and wipes his own eyes dry with the other.

They stay for a long while.

Eventually, Bucky rises to his feet with Steve next to him.

“Let’s go home, Steve,” Bucky mumbles with a raspy voice.

“Yeah. We can do that.”

Together, they make their way out of the cemetery to their car. The driver is smoking with a far-off expression, one arm resting on the top of the car. When he sees them, he takes one last pull on the cigarette before flicking it away.

Steve goes out of his way to snuff it out under his shoe before getting in the car. The driver closes the door behind him before getting behind the wheel. The heat is on inside, which helps Steve realize how cold he actually is now that his bones are defrosting. An unfortunate side effect though is that it enhances the cigarette smoke that lingers on the driver like cologne. 

The ride back to Avengers Tower is silent and reeks of ash.

xxx

“Do you want to take an early shower or bath to get warm?” Steve asks, hanging up his coat. “It’s lunch time now and we skipped breakfast. I can place an order.”

“This is our last day together,” Bucky remarks, eyes fixed on the view of midtown.

“It’s my last day on assignment with you, but it’s not our last day together.”

Bucky nods slightly, as if he’s made a decision in his head. “I want to take a shower. Will you keep me company?”

“Of course. What do you want to eat for lunch? I’ll call it in now.”

He turns and the look in his steel blue eyes pin Steve in place. “You pick.”

Bucky walks into the bathroom and leaves the door open.

Steve swallows, feeling nervous. He asks JARVIS to get food from the dingy pizza shop on Second Avenue. Two Meatball subs. Two large pizzas, one all cheese and the other half pepperoni, half mushroom, peppers and sausage. Zeppoles. A two-liter bottle of Coke. Comfort food.

He walks into the bathroom, sees Bucky’s vague silhouette through the fogged up glass of the shower room. “We’re having pizza and stuff,” Steve says, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

Bucky makes an acknowledging sound. Steve takes out his phone and fiddles with an app game. After a while, he hears the shower door slide open and concentrates harder on the game. A moment later, he sees a robe appear in his peripheral vision. Feeling safe to look, Steve lifts his gaze.

“Done?”

“Done.”

“Good job, pal.” Steve smiles, glancing at the shower room again. The glass is opaque from the shower steam, but there is a small patch where it’s lighter, as if Bucky had wiped at the area multiple times to keep it clear. Was he looking at me?

“Can you blow dry my hair?”

“Sure. Go change. I’ll be in the living room like before.”

Alpine, upon spotting the blow dryer in Steve’s hand, hisses and disappears into the bedroom the second Bucky opens the door. 

“Sorry girl,” Steve says with a laugh. He holds up the plugged in dryer to Bucky. “Ready?”

He nods, and sinks onto the couch. He lends forward, elbows resting on his knees, and rests his hands on the back of Steve’s knees. When he tries to rest his forehead against his stomach, Steve gently pushes him back.

“You’re gonna get my shirt wet. Let’s dry your roots first before you do that. I’m turning it on now. Low and steady like before okay?”

“Okay.” Bucky hangs his head down, fingers tightening around Steve when the whirring sound starts.

Steve aims the hot air on his scalp, using his free hand to gently run along his dark brown hair. When he deems it dry enough, he gently presses Bucky’s head against his body, and feels Bucky lean further against him. It takes fifteen minutes to dry his hair completely.

Steve turns off the dryer and places it on the side table. Bucky doesn’t move away. Steve keeps running his hand through Bucky’s hair, keeping one on the back of his neck. “You did so good today, Buck. I’m so proud of you,” he says, trying to give him the comfort he deserves. “You know that right?”

“Thanks Steve.” Bucky’s voice rumbles through Steve’s body, making his heart tremble. “Thank you for being with me.”

“What are friends for?” he says lightly.

Bucky tightens his hold on him. “I…I don’t want to say goodbye to you today.”

“How about goodnight then? Like how we always do?”

Bucky nods reluctantly, tickling Steve’s stomach with the motion. He looks up at Steve with some unfathomable emotion behind his steel blue eyes. It makes Steve nervous. It makes Steve yearn. His lips tingle with want, wishing he could kiss Bucky’s sadness away.

The elevator dings.

“Lunch has arrived,” JARVIS announces.

Heart pounding, Steve steps out of Bucky’s reach. “I’ll get it.”

Bucky stands, never looking away from Steve. “I’ll set the table.”

xxx

The hours pass. They watch a documentary on arctic wolves. Alpine curls up by Bucky’s side, rumbling like a motor.

“Do you know where you're going next?” Bucky asks suddenly. “Where your job is sending you?”

“No, not yet. I’m actually on vacation after today. Got a week off.”

“Can you afford that?”

“It’s paid time off.”

And I have a six figure bank account now. I could take two years off and it’d be paid time off. Oh wait. Taxes. Shit, maybe just a year then.

“Oh. Good. That's a nice change from my time.” Bucky pauses. “We had this new thing when I was working in the thirties. Called it Social Security. Do you know of it? Is it still around?”

Steve nods with a sardonic smile. “Yeah, it’s still around, but it ain’t looking good for my generation. Everyone’s saying that it’ll be over before people my age hit retirement.”

Bucky absorbs that information. “That’s a good run. I’m sorry it won’t last for you. Is there any way we can save it?”

“Not unless the government gets its act together, which isn’t likely from how things are going. And you’re part of it too, you know. You’re in my age group technically, so we can bemoan it together.”

“Yeah…” Bucky says thoughtfully. “Yeah, I am.”

xxx

Suddenly, somehow, it’s time to leave.

The dishes are washed and put away. Surfaces are clean and cleared. His Stark phone on the kitchen counter. There’s no reason to linger.

Steve hangs his scarf around his neck before putting on his coat. Then he turns to Bucky. “Remember, this is a see you later type of thing. Got it?”

Bucky nods, swallowing. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Bring it in.” Steve reaches for him and Bucky is there, filling the space between his outstretched arms. “It’s been an honor working with you,” Steve says sincerely, blinking rapidly. “You’re safe. You’re home. You’re good. Don’t ever forget that.”

Bucky pulls away. “I won’t.”

The elevator door opens behind Steve. “I’ll see you around. Take care of yourself, okay?” Steve says with a grin so wide and held so tight that it hurts. Bucky stares at him with those beautiful, expressive eyes. Steve can’t look away from them, so he walks backwards into the elevator.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” Steve jokes. Something shifts in Bucky’s expression, but before Steve can understand what it was—shit, did I hurt his feelings?—the door closes.

Steve takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Are you ready to exit the elevator, Mr. Grant?” JARVIS asks.

He chokes out a small laugh. “Yes. Thank you for everything, JARVIS.”

“It has been a pleasure.”

Steve looks at the ceiling. “What do you mean by that? ‘A pleasure,’ I mean. Since you’re an AI, is this something that you feel?”

“Mr. Stark has programmed me to respond as organically as a human would. I have a database of greetings and farewells to pull from based on my observations.”

“So do you feel things?”

“I am an AI.”

“Right. Sorry. I’m just thinking too much.” Steve shakes his head, and runs his hand through his hair. He’s not sure why the door hasn’t opened yet.

“I have been programmed to ensure certain outcomes do not happen. If they do, I minimize the damage as much as possible and report it to Mr. Stark and relevant parties. Would that be considered having a feeling?”

Isn’t that just a command? Steve thinks. Then he says, “It means you feel a responsibility to keep people safe.”

“That is a valid interpretation.” The door opens to a still lobby. “Be safe, Mr. Grant.”

“Bye JARVIS.”

xxx

Steve texts his manager letting her know that he left Avengers Tower and that the job is done. He also says that he’s going to be off emails now and wishes her a happy new year.

She answers after a few minutes. Great!! Happy New Year, Steve!!!

He walks to the subway, hunched over against the biting cold and the tightness in his chest. A group of people in their party outfits pass him. It’s a drive-by burst of loud laughs, clicking shoes, and high spirits. It’s the sound of a new year gleaming in the dark, brighter than Times Square lights.

He’s on the local train downtown thinking of his silent apartment. He pictures the number sitting in his now-hefty bank account, and considers texting his friends to see if he could join their plans. Maybe drop by a house party with top shelf liquor or buy a round of drinks at whatever bar they’re at.

He thinks, as always, of Bucky and feels hollowed out.

The train finally pulls into Atlantic Avenue-Barclays Center. Steve gets off and walks up the stairs to make his transfer.

xxx

“JARVIS, can I see Bucky?” Steve asks, gasping for breath. He’s standing in front of the private elevator after running up subway steps and city blocks. The lobby security guards don’t look twice at him, so familiar with his presence in the tower. He wishes he felt the same. Now that his assignment is over, he feels like a trespasser.

“You have not left anything in the apartment, Mr. Grant. Why do you need to see Sergeant Barnes?”

“I—I don’t want him to be alone.”

“He is as he has always been after you leave. There is no need for your concern. He is safe.”

Bucky is safe. Steve doesn’t have a good reason to be here again, other than he wants to be. “Please?” he asks, a little desperate.

The seconds stretch into what felt like years. Steve squeezes his eyes shut, feeling humiliated. “I think he’s lonely. It’s not good to feel that way on New Year’s Eve.”

The elevator door opens. “I have informed Sergeant Barnes of your arrival.”

Steve hurries inside. “Thank you, JARVIS.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Grant.”

Steve sighs just as the door opens again. Bucky is there, eyes wide in disbelief. “Steve?”

“Hi Bucky.” He feels pathetically relieved to see him again, even if it’s been less than two hours.

“Did you forget something?”

Steve shrugs, trying to hide his nerves. “No. I was thinking of spending the rest of the night with some friends after I left, and you were the first person to come to mind. What do you say? Can I crash your New Year’s Eve plans? As a friend?”

Bucky swallows, steel blue eyes soft and bright. “You’re always welcome here.”

“Good,” Steve pulls out his phone and waves it in front of him, “because I realized that I never shared the last playlist I made for you. We’re finally caught up to the current hits.”

“Yeah? Let’s hear it.”

They listen on the couch. Bucky laughs when Steve gets really into a song, bopping his head and gesturing wildly in time with the music. Bucky demands a replay just to watch Steve do it again with even more fervor.

“This beat! This is a classic, buddy! Circa the early 2000s!”

“This is a longer playlist than the others,” Bucky comments.

“Because I know these songs. I grew up listening to them. Doesn’t it just make you wanna dance?”

Bucky stands up with a smile on his face, holding out his hand. “I’ll teach you to do it on beat.”

He does his best to show Steve the popular dances of his time. Steve stumbles over his own feet and then steps on Bucky’s several times before he gives up.

“I can’t do that. It’s too much footwork!” Steve complains. “Let me just bounce and sway.”

Bucky doesn’t look impressed. Alpine conveniently has the zoomies and sprints around the apartment. Sometimes she stops to bat at Steve’s legs or run between his feet like it’s an obstacle course.

“It doesn’t have to be right to have fun,” Steve points out.

“You should learn to dance,” Bucky argues.

“I am dancing. It’s all rhythmic flailing!”

xxx

Afterwards, they turn on the TV to watch the New Year festivities in Times Square.

“Should we go?” Bucky asks. “It’s not far.”

“Hell no. It’s full of tourists and you’ll be trapped in a crowd with no bathroom or seats. Besides, they’ve blocked entry a long time ago.”

Bucky nods. He looks at Steve hesitantly. “Do you want to come with me to visit Becca next week?”

“Sure. What day were you thinking?”

“Every day.”

Steve smiles. “That might be a little overwhelming. Why don’t we plan for two visits first and then go from there?”

“Okay. I want to see her tomorrow. It’s the New Year, and I want to share a meal together.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You can stay over tonight. Since you’ll come back here anyway. It’ll be easier.”

Steve’s heart starts to beat faster. It’s a good idea, but it feels dangerously unprofessional. He’s already in shaky territory for coming back.

But I want to stay too.

“Sure pal. If it’s not too much trouble. I’ll take the couch.”

Whatever professional repercussions he may face, it’s worth it to see Bucky’s smile. “It’s no trouble at all.”

xxx

Steve takes a shower. It’s the best one he’s ever had in his life.

When he gets out, dressed in borrowed clothes that surprisingly fit him, he checks the time and sees that it’s nearly midnight.

“Bucky, where did you get these clothes?”

“Natasha had them delivered a while ago in case you needed to stay over.”

Steve pauses. “Why would I need to stay over?”

Bucky shrugs. “I don’t know.” He looks at the ceiling. “JARVIS, was there a reason why Steve may have stayed overnight here?”

“In the event of a security breach, the Tower would be locked down until otherwise authorized by Mr. Stark. We have supplies to account for everyone in the tower that would last up to two months.”

Steve is both comforted and unnerved by that information. “Thanks JARVIS.” He walks over to the window to look at the view. “It’s a shame we can’t see Time Square from here. Too many buildings blocking the way.”

“We have the TV,” Bucky says. “They’ve started the countdown to midnight. It’s eight minutes now.”

Steve sits next to Bucky on the couch. “Did you used to do this back in the thirties?”

Bucky looks balefully at him. “Yes Steve. We did. It was over the radio, but the ball drop started before I was born.”

Steve holds up his hands. “Just asking. You got any resolutions for the new year?”

“See Becca. Stay out of trouble. You?”

“Get into more trouble,” Steve laughs. “Just kidding. Not really. Just the usual stuff. Work on my health. Maybe give the apps another try.”

“Apps?”

“Dating apps.”

“Dating apps?”

“It’s a way for people to date these days. It’s something on your phone where people can look through another person’s profile…er, personal ads, and if you like what you see and they like your profile back, you can start texting and eventually meet up.”

Bucky’s mouth twitches. “That’s convenient. Why did you stop?”

Steve laughs. “Because the dating pool is horrible and I’ve been on a lot of bad dates. That’s not even including the people that never moved past the texting phase.”

“I see.”

“What was dating like for you back then?”

“You see someone you like and go up to them to chat for a bit before making plans.”

“Sounds like a dream to me.”

Bucky laughs. “It didn’t always work out, but it was fun.”

“You’ll probably have a good time now too. The number of single straight women in the city far outweighs the number of single straight men.”

“Straight?”

“Oh. Um…heterosexual? You know, men who only like women and women who only like men?”

Bucky nods in understanding. “And you’re…gay? Meaning you only like men?”

“Yes.”

“What about people who like both?”

“They’re called bi. Or bi-sexual. There’s also people who like all and they’re called pansexual.”

“...What?”

Steve laughs at the confusion stamped across Bucky’s face. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it another time.”

Bucky nods. “Do you still do the midnight kiss on New Year’s?”

“Naturally.” Steve glances at the TV and sees the countdown is at twenty-three seconds. “You’re about to see a thousand people kiss on screen.”

“Want to be mine?”

Steve nearly snaps his neck to look back at him. “Huh?”

“You gotta have a kiss,” he says, blushing slightly. “It’s tradition.”

Relax. It’s probably a friend-kiss. “Haha, sure pal.” Steve looks over at the TV again. His heartbeat speeds up and he wipes his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants. Final six seconds. “Ready for it?”

“Ready.”

Steve leans over just as confetti falls from the sky in Times Square and presses a closed mouth peck quickly against Bucky’s lips before pulling away. It doesn’t last a second. Auld Lang Syne plays over the cheers from the crowd on screen. “Happy New—!”

Bucky leans in and kisses him, parts his lips against Steve’s in a soft caress. He feels Bucky’s breath blow gently over his own lips, and it makes his whole body shiver.

Steve thinks: What is happening?! and Of course he’s a good kisser.

It’s a dry kiss. When Bucky pulls away, a small patch of their skin stubbornly sticks together before separating with a slight sting. Steve reflexively tongues the spot to soothe it, and laughs anxiously. “You kiss all your friends like that on New Year’s pal?”

“Only the ones I like,” Bucky responds, eyes shifting between the TV and Steve. He’s nervous too, Steve realizes. “Only the ones I might be interested in dating.”

What?

“What?” Steve says.

“I-I don’t know. I just…when i’m around you I feel like I do around the girls I liked back then.” Bucky glances at him, pupils enlarged. “I think I want to date you. Maybe. I don’t know what that looks like, but you could start your dating resolution with me, if you want.”

“Bucky…I have so many questions,” Steve says, and panics when he sees the fear in Bucky’s eyes. “Let’s slow down and talk about it in the morning, yeah? Can I give you my answer then?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want me. I understand—”

“I do,” Steve blurts out, shocking both of them.

“Yeah?” Steel blue eyes brighten.

“Y-yeah. But! We should still talk in the morning about it.”

“Okay.” Bucky smiles at him, that bright sun smile that warms Steve inside out.

“Okay.” Steve laughs suddenly, giddy in a way he’s never felt. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” Bucky says. “Should we turn in now?”

It’s an innocent question that should not make Steve’s face heat up the way it does. Bucky knows it too if the way his smile takes on a knowing tilt. That jerk.  

Suddenly, an idea comes to him. “You know what? No, let’s go somewhere first.”

“Where?”

“It’s close by. Grab your coat and your shoes. Hurry up!”

xxx

“So?” Steve asks through a chattering smile with his hands jammed under his armpits. “How’s it compare?”

Bucky stands still, seemingly unaffected by the cold, gazing up at the giant Christmas tree. “It’s brighter. Got a ton of lights,” he says, “but somehow looks exactly like how I remember it.”

“Yeah? I’m glad.”

“So am I. Feels like I’m really home.”

“You are.”

Bucky looks at Steve, eyes simultaneously dark and bright. “I am. C’mon. Let’s go home. You’re shivering.”

“Yeah. Going out in pajamas and a coat wasn’t the best idea I had.”

“Is that right?”

“Where did this sarcasm come from?”

“I get like this when I’m surrounded by stupid ideas.”

“Wooow,” Steve drawls. “Is that how you talk to people regularly?”

“Only when they deserve it.” Bucky nudges him with his elbow. “Let’s run back.”

“What? No. That’s a terrible idea.”

“You wanted to work on your health. It’s the new year.”

Bucky takes off, unreasonably fast. Effortlessly so.

Steve chases after him, lungs burning after ten steps. “Wait for me, Bucky!”

xxx

End