Work Text:
Steve and Bucky had been best friends since forever. And that sort of close childhood friendship tended to tie people together permanently in ways that no small child ever anticipated. It was rare that such a bond would bloom into romance, but on occasion it did occur, and learning to understand such feelings is a complicated and sometimes difficult journey, but it was the predicament that Steve Rogers had found himself in when he reached his late teens.
Steve was as certain as he could be that his feelings were one-sided. Bucky had a habit of flirting with every girl he came across, and while his love for Steve was certainly strong, it was a different –more platonic and brotherly– sort of love.
He felt guilty about hiding his feelings from Bucky. His friend deserved to know the truth. He didn’t imagine that Bucky would hate him, but that was certainly a possibility, and he couldn’t afford to be so naive as to ignore it. But Steve couldn’t bear the thought of losing Bucky, of the wonderful friendship he was so lucky to have coming to an end, so he decided against honesty. It was the one thing he would allow himself to be selfish about, the only time he would forgo his moral compass in favor of what he himself so badly wanted. That added more guilt, and Steve did his best to ignore it, to push it down into that same space deep inside him where his love for Bucky sat.
He had never felt like this before, so fixated on someone that he felt as though he were a planet caught in Bucky’s orbit. The other man rarely left his mind, and Steve cherished every moment they spent together and every small touch his beautiful friend was kind enough to grant him.
Then one night, Bucky brought home some bottles of beer, and the two of them decided to get drunk.
And that was the night Steve confessed.
He’d never have done it had he not been drinking. But Bucky became far more affectionate when drunk and touched Steve far more than he normally did. It was simply too much for Steve to bear under the act of solely platonic feelings.
“I love you,” he told Bucky. “I’ve been in love with you for about a year now.”
Bucky looked at him in confusion.
“I’m sorry. But you should at least know.”
“Really?”
Steve nodded. He wasn’t ashamed to love Bucky, but he was ashamed to have to be so vulnerable in telling him.
“I love you, too. Can I hold you?”
Steve nodded again, and Bucky made space next to him on the couch. Steve moved over and was rewarded with the comforting presence of Bucky’s arms around him. Bucky pressed soft, gentle kisses to his forehead and murmured words that Steve was too out of it to comprehend. They sounded nice though, kind words that lulled him into a state of peace, a feeling so rare for Steve.
At some point Steve must have fallen asleep because he woke up hours later still entangled in Bucky’s embrace.
“Good morning,” Bucky said with a soft smile.
“It’s morning?”
“No. But I’m glad you got some rest.” He kissed him again, on the lips this time, and this time Steve was coherent enough to return the favor.