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Chapter Text

September 17th, 1924

Bucky walked home from school every day. He was seven, and his parents finally trusted him to walk himself and his little sister home. He took great responsibility in getting Rose home on time and ‘in one piece,’ like his parents said, whatever that meant. Bucky was in the second grade, and Rose was in kindergarten. She tells him about the letters she learned today when Bucky hears a faint grunt followed by a thud. The scuffle gets louder, and as they approach the alleyway, Bucky chances a look and sees two kids beating up a scrawny blonde one. He’s never been real big for his age, but he called out to the attackers.

His little voice rang through the narrow alley, “Hey! Knock it off!”

The two kids ran past Bucky as he rushed towards the kid on the ground. He was small. His bones were barely covered by the skin on his arms. His lip was bleeding, and bruises were already blooming across his face. The kid tried to push himself up on shaky arms but couldn’t. Bucky hadn’t ever been worried like he was then, not when he lost his first tooth or the time no one could find Rose’s favorite blankie, not even the time he fell and had to get two whole stitches in his head, not ever. Bucky crouched down next to the blonde boy and put his hand out to help him up.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I almost had ‘em though,” he says with a shrug. And then he was up, still holding onto Bucky’s hand to steady himself. He was bloody and bruised with a smirk on his face. “I’m Steve Rogers.”

“James Buchanan Barnes”

The boy smiled and shook Bucky’s hand. “James Buchanan? Who are you, the president?” Bucky shrugged. He had only ever been called James; it was his name. “I’ll call you Bucky,” Steve said with a nod, like that settled it. “Bucky Barnes, I like it.”

“Bucky?” Rose wrinkled her nose at the new nickname. She looked from Bucky to Steve incredulously, and even though she was only five, she knew it was going to stick.

“I’ll walk you home,” Bucky offered, hoping his new friend would say yes. He did.

They talked and laughed all the way back to Steve’s apartment. Steve told Bucky and Rose about the drawing he did in class that day, and Bucky told Steve about the math he did. When they reached Steve’s apartment, Bucky called out to Steve just as he was about to disappear into the building. “Do you want to walk home with me tomorrow?”

Steve turned to Bucky, the biggest toothy grin on his face, “Yeah, Buck! I’ll see you tomorrow after school.”

Rose looks up at Bucky. “I thought it was Bucky,” she says, “Not Buck.”

Bucky just grinned. “He can call me whatever he wants.”

That night at dinner, as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes busied themselves in the kitchen and the girls did their homework, Bucky followed his mother around talking about his new friend. Winnifred had never heard her son so excited to tell her about a day at school. Sure, he was outgoing, but this was something else. He told her about the fight Steve had gotten in and that he got a new nickname. That Steve was good at art and wanted to go to art school one day. That Steve’s mom was a nurse and that she sometimes would bring home the lollipops from the office for him. Steve had said that maybe he could have his mom get one for Bucky, that Steve’s favorite was the red one, and that Bucky would like whatever Steve did.

And that’s how it went. Steve and Bucky walked home from school together with Rose in tow. They joked the whole way home. They told each other stories and talked about their day at school. They saw each other every single day, even in the summer. Bucky would run all the way from his house to Steve’s in the sweltering summer heat just to make sure they could spend the whole day together.

Chapter Text

July 4th, 1926
Today was Steve’s eighth birthday. They went to the Prospect Park Zoo a few blocks away from the Rogers’ apartment. This was the very first time Steve and Bucky were allowed to do something without any supervision. To say they were thrilled would be an understatement. Of course, they were only going a few blocks, but the newfound freedom was exciting, and they couldn’t wait to goof off on the short walk to the zoo.

“You know, they might have a giant turtle.” Bucky elbowed Steve. “Yeah? I hope it eats you so you’ll quit hittin’ me” Steve retorts.

Bucky always loved the zoo. He liked seeing the animals and reading about where they came from and what they ate. Steve mostly liked to see the monkeys because they were the most entertaining. He liked the way they swung in the air or sat real close so you could wave at them.

They made a beeline towards the monkey exhibit, like they always did. They watched the monkeys swing around until Bucky got bored and tried to convince Steve to go see the lizards.

“Hey, whose birthday is it, huh?” Steve asks Bucky.

“Well, I just want to see that giant turtle, and then we can come back here if you want,” Bucky tried.

Steve agreed, and they made their way toward the reptile exhibit. Bucky was so excited to see it. He had just read a book at school right before they were let out for the summer about the turtles that can grow to be as big as him and live for just as long. He was fascinated by them and wanted to share his facts with Steve, who was really just more interested in seeing Bucky smile.

Steve liked when Bucky got excited about the things he had learned and always wanted to tell Steve about the things he read about in school or at the library. Sure, it was his birthday, but he liked seeing Bucky smile as much as Bucky liked talking about that giant turtle. His excitement was contagious as they got closer and closer to the exhibit, and Bucky’s wide grin made Steve smile all the way there. Bucky couldn’t stop with the facts about these giant turtles and tripped over his words in excitement.

“And, Steve, you know these turtles can live to be like 100 years old! Isn’t that crazy?” Before Steve could answer, Bucky launched into another string of turtle fun facts. When they reached the turtle, Bucky ran up to it; it really was a big turtle.

“Look at it! Steve, that turtle is taller than you!” Bucky practically yelled back at Steve, who was trailing behind him. They looked at the turtle and the other reptiles and all kinds of lizards, and by then Steve had forgotten about the monkeys. They explored the African animal exhibit with bears and lions and all sorts of other big cats. On their way out Steve spotted a stand with candy floss. Bucky had a little bit of spending money, so he bought him and Steve a cone.

Their fingers were sticky as they walked home and ate their treat. Bucky walked Steve home, and Sarah invited him in for dinner. Bucky was happy to have dinner with them, to spend more time with Steve on his birthday. It was just the three of them sitting at the little apartment table, and the boys recounted their favorite parts of the day. Sarah smiled, grateful her son had found such a fine friend in Bucky.

Chapter Text

March 20th, 1929

Now, Steve and Bucky are in middle school. They started to become more aware of the people they are growing up to be. Bucky notices the height difference between himself and Steve more than he ever had before. Where he was gaining muscle and body hair, Steve was still just skin and bones. Bucky had always known they were different, but it was small things like the way Steve likes the warm weather while Bucky likes the fall weather or that Bucky likes oranges and Steve doesn’t, not that their bodies worked and looked differently. Bucky didn’t see these changes as a problem, but people started pointing it out to him. Asking him why he would stick around with such a sickly kid, why he wouldn’t join the popular groups at lunch.

The answer was always so simple to him, and he couldn’t understand why people were so hung up on his friendship with Steve. Bucky loved Steve. He was part of his life; he helped Bucky in more ways than he would ever admit. Steve has a starring role in every single one of his favorite memories and some of the worst ones too.

Bucky tried to ignore all the comments about Steve, but sometimes it got to him. It wasn’t often and not for long, but sometimes Bucky did wonder what it would be like to be popular, to be liked by all these people. Sure, he was praised in the classroom by his teachers and peers, but maybe he wanted even more. He started to compare his body with those of his classmates, and although he wasn’t skinny like Steve, he felt like he didn’t look his best.

Bucky started feeling more and more uncomfortable with his body and accidentally brought it up with Steve one night. They were sitting on Steve’s bed, doing their homework, when Bucky just blurted it out.

“Am I ugly?” Bucky’s hand flew up to his mouth.

Steve looked at him incredulously. “Buck, what are you talkin' about?”

Bucky was red in the face. Why would he ask that? What would Steve even say to such a dumb question? He splutters out a reply, “I don’t know. I just feel like I don’t look pretty or nothing. I’m not much to look at ya know?"

Steve keeps looking at him. Unimpressed and frankly, something Bucky can’t recognize on Steve’s face, “Buck, why are you so concerned with what you look like?”

Bucky shrugged.

“Just been buggin’ me, that’s all,” he says sheepishly. He hopes Steve will just drop it, but when has Steve Rogers ever been in the business of cutting Bucky some damn slack?

“Bucky,” Steve says, his expression stern, “you look fine. You look like you. That’s all that really matters, right?” Bucky deflates a little; it's easy for Steve to say. He says just as much.

“What?”

Shit. “Um,” Bucky hesitates, “I just said easy for you to say.”

Steve shakes his head. Then he laughs. “Bucky, did you just call me pretty?”

“What? No!” Bucky is beet red now. “I just—you’re just,” he needs to breathe. “You’re just so sure of yourself all the time. You’re so —so you. I just keep thinkin’ about me versus some of the other guys at school. You know, I just feel like I could be doing more.” Bucky’s never really opened up about this to anyone. He hadn’t even told Rose, who gets a lot of unfiltered thought from Bucky.

“I just wish I could be more like you.”

“More like me? Bucky, I’m sick all the time; I probably won’t live till twenty. I have the best friend in the whole world, and he’s telling me that he wants to be more like me?”

Bucky tensed at the words.

“You’re crazy.” Steve paused, softened, “I fake it till I make it, Buck. That’s all it is. Yeah, I’ve got some dumb confidence, but you don’t think I hear people asking you to ditch me? You could have any —hell, all the friends in the world, and you chose me.”

Although it wasn’t a straight answer, Bucky felt better. If he was good enough for Steve, he was good enough for anybody. He felt more secure in his body, knowing that Steve thought he looked just fine. He still didn’t like comparing himself to the others, but he couldn’t help it.

They talked more; Bucky wanted to join the baseball team. He thought it might help him, having an activity to keep his mind off other things. Steve encouraged him and said he’d come to every game to cheer on his best friend. They talked about Bucky going to the big leagues; Steve would be his manager. They would be famous and get to tour the whole United States. Bucky had always wanted to do that.

They fell asleep thinking about baseball cards and home runs.

Chapter Text

September 30th, 1930
Bucky was up on the plate. He already missed the first pitch, as the umpire threw the ball back to the mound. Bucky shifted his feet. Dug his cleats into the dirt and kept his eye on the ball. The pitcher wound up and released, and Bucky swung.

Crack

There wasn’t a second to think before the crowd went wild, yelling at him, telling him to run. And he did. He ran as fast as he could; he just kept going. The crowd cheered, and it finally hit him that he might have just hit a home run. Bucky looks for the ball and sees the outfielders running to catch it as it comes down. He might just make it all the way.

He passes second base and then third, the crowd still cheering as Bucky passes home. He looks again at the outfield; the players just watched as he made the run, and he felt so proud of himself. These days Bucky felt better about himself. He liked going to practice a few days a week, and it gave him something else to focus on besides his mom being gone. His dad liked having Bucky in baseball too and liked to brag to his friends and the other dads on the bleachers.

When the game came to a close, Bucky ran off the field in search of his family. He finds Steve first in the mix of people and Rose shortly after. He threw his arms around both of them, and they chatter about his home run.

“You really sent it flying, Buck. I think the Yankees are going to be calling you up soon.”

Bucky laughed; he didn’t think so. He loved school too much to quit early.

“I think this calls for a celebration, huh?” Winnifred proposed, looking between the kids.

They all nodded excitedly. Even Dahlia from her perch on her dad’s shoulders. They walked a few blocks to the corner shop, one of the few that was still selling sweets. The boys walked ahead of everyone, still talking about the game and Bucky’s winning swing. The weather had just started to turn cool, and as the wind picked up, Steve shivered a bit.

Bucky took off his uniform shirt and placed it around Steve. The blond turned his head to look up at Bucky, smiling. It wasn’t much, but the shirt was warm from Bucky’s heat and provided another layer against the wind.

When they got to the corner store, Violet ran past them, excited to get a treat. They didn’t go out very often anymore, and it was hard to find places still selling anything that could count as a treat. Bucky tried rocky road, a new flavor with all kinds of stuff in it; he thought it was good. Everyone else got basic flavors, and Bucky went on and on about the way his had marshmallows and chocolate in it.

“Only the best will do for a world-class baseball player like myself, ya know,” he drawled.

Steve laughed as Winnifred agreed with him. Bucky’s dad messed up his hair, recounting the epic swing. He and Rose mucked around pretending to be Bucky and the pitcher and then just goofing around in general. Bucky started to feel tired; he was worn out by the game.

He scoots down in his chair and leans his head over to rest on Steve’s shoulder. Before he knows it, Bucky feels himself drifting to sleep as his family talks about Rose’s big project coming up and the choir recital that Dahlia was in.

Bucky was being tapped on the shoulder what felt like moments later by Steve.

“We’re all ready to go, sleepy-head,” his mother chastised, “that game was intense, huh?”

Bucky nodded, lifting his head from Steve’s shoulder. He stretched and he stood at the same time Steve did. They looked at each other; Bucky bit his lip to contain a smile, but they both burst out laughing. He didn’t even know what made it so funny, but it was to him.

When they got home, Bucky’s Ma told him to put his uniform in for the laundry, and he helped her pump the water and grabbed the washboard. He wishes the field wasn’t so dusty so it wouldn’t need to be washed after every game or so. They chatted about the game and what he was learning in school. Bucky loved talking to his Ma about school, and she let him ramble on about the books he was reading and the frog dissection that was coming up.

“We only get a few frogs, but it’s still going to be so cool! A few girls in my class are real grossed out, but my lab partner is Laurie, and she’s not scared of the frogs. She says she caught one last summer and that her Pa didn’t let her keep it in the house, so she lost it.”

His Ma chuckled at his story.

Chapter Text

May 1932
Bucky’s Ma lay in the hospital bed, covered in a thin linen sheet. The material was scratchy, and he didn’t like the feeling on his hands. She had been here for a few weeks, and every time they saw her, she looked worse. Bucky was no stranger to sickness, but this was a whole new beast for him.

She had lost so much weight following her cancer diagnosis, and her body had started to fail her. Treatment was risky, and surgery wasn’t an option this late on, so they just watched as she slowly withered. Everyone in the family was devastated, but their dad took it the hardest. The girls were still young, and they didn’t quite understand the concept of Ma getting sick and not getting better.

Bucky and Rose were at the hospital often. They talked to her and brought her food from home. She was hooked up to a heart rate monitor and IV in between her sessions of radiotherapy. She looked frail and tiny, worse than Steve looked on his bad days, and that scared Bucky. He held out hope for her to get better, for the radiotherapy to pull her through.

But it didn’t. On one of the rare days he was at Steve’s house instead of the hospital, the phone rang out through Steve’s small apartment from the kitchen. Steve got up from his place on the fire escape, leaving Bucky leaning against the brick reading his newspaper. Bucky heard him answer the phone, greet Rose, and call for him.

He ducked into the apartment and took the phone. He drew in a shaky breath. “Hi, Rose.”

“Bucky, Ma’s gotten real confused; the doctors say it’s probably going to happen soon.”

His chest tightened, and his breath stopped. God, it was actually happening. The truth that he had been ignoring for months had finally come to a head, and now he was finally going to have to deal with it. Steve put his hand on Bucky’s back and pulled him in close. Bucky couldn’t breathe; he opened and closed his mouth, searching for words.

He was numb. Steve took the phone from Bucky’s hand, which he didn’t realize was shaking.

“Rose, we’ll be there soon,” Steve nodded, as Bucky faintly heard Rose give him the room number, and then he hung up.
Why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he talk? Jesus, he was crying, and he wasn’t even at the hospital yet. Steve moved him with his arm around his back, and Bucky went. He trusted Steve to get him there. Steve sat him down and helped him put his shoes on as Bucky’s vision went blurry with tears.

Bucky looked up at Steve as he stood up, sucked in a shaky breath, “can - can you. I think I need a hug.”

Steve didn’t hesitate, just gently pulled Bucky from the chair and wrapped his arms around him. Bucky exhaled into the hug, dropping his head to rest it on Steve’s shoulder. He let out another sob, tears dripping onto Steve’s shirt, and Steve squeezed him tighter. Rubbed his back and spoke to him softly.

“Hey, do you want to get going? Let’s go see Rose.”

Bucky nodded; he was numb. But Rose needed him, so he straightened up and steeled himself with a deep breath. He stepped out the door with Steve in tow, closing and locking the door before following Bucky down the stairs. Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and looked up at him, reassuring him that no matter what, Steve was going to be right there. Until the end of the line.

When they got there, Rose met them at the door, tears streaked down her face, and she ran to Bucky. They crashed into each other’s arms, and Bucky picked her up with the force of her run. They walked the rest of the way to the room like that, Rose clinging to Bucky.

As Rose loosened her grip, Bucky set her down. “The doctors said that she’s probably near the end and that it could happen any time,” she sniffled. “She’ll only wake up for a few minutes at a time now. I’m so scared, Bucky.”

“It’s going to be okay.” He pulls her into a hug, “It’s going to be fine. She’s going to be in a better place.”

He’s not sure he believes himself, but Bucky hopes to God it makes his little sister feel better. He wipes tears from his eyes and crosses to the hospital bed where his mother lies. He drags a chair close and puts his hand on top of hers. Bucky wills his mother to wake up, to be herself just one last time. He feels selfish, but he doesn’t care, not when his Ma is about to be gone forever. She stirs then, and Rose comes over to sit with Bucky.

She takes a seat half on his lap and joins all three of their hands together.

“Hi Ma, how are you doing?” Bucky murmurs.

She looks at him, then at Rose, around the room, and back to them. Her eyes switching between the two of them, her voice is raspy as she speaks, “Hi honey,” then to Rose, “Hi baby.”

She smiles weakly, like she knows what’s about to happen. Bucky tears up, purses his lips, and tries to hold it in, to be strong for his girls. He takes a shaky breath. “It’s real nice outside today; wish we coulda brought you out there.” He doesn’t even know what to say, doesn’t want to pretend nothing’s wrong, but doesn’t know how else to do it.

His Ma nods, patting his hand with her other one.

“Honey, you’re going to be okay. You’re my strong boy, my helper; you’re going to be just fine.”

Bucky lets himself cry then. Lets himself shake with the grief already flowing through him. Rose puts a hand on his back and presses a kiss to his cheek. She gets up and excuses herself; she’s going to call Dad from work.

Steve volunteers to get the little girls from the house. Rose reaches in her purse to grab her house key, and Steve tells her he already has one. He pats Bucky on the shoulder and leans down to give him a hug from where he sits beside his mother. Steve tells Bucky he’ll be back and to not go anywhere while he’s gone.

Rose comes back to the room and sits with Bucky again. They sit there with their arms around each other, talking with their mother about memories from when they were younger when she’s awake and talking in hushed tones when she sleeps. Their dad arrives straight from work, walking in the room with a doctor in tow. He checks her vitals, and Bucky’s father asks him and Rose to wait outside while he talks with the doctor. Steve arrives later with Dahlia on one side and Violet on the other, each holding onto one of Steve’s hands.

Their dad came out from the room and ushered them all inside. Steve stayed outside in the waiting room. He wasn’t sure if he should stay or go, but his friend needed him, so he stayed, no matter how long he sat and waited.

They were told to say their last goodbyes to Ma. Dahlia climbed up on the bed and gave her Ma one last hug. Bucky squeezed her hand again and kissed her forehead. And then they left the hospital room, and the door closed behind them. Bucky’s dad didn’t say a word, just turned towards the door and began walking. Steve saw them exit and ran up to Bucky and threw his arms around his friend.

Chapter Text

October 15th, 1933

“You can’t just keep get getting into fights with everyone who looks at you sideways”

“Yeah well you don’t know what it’s like to be a scrawny little nobody!”

Bucky took a breath, he was so angry at Steve.

“I’m just saying, you need to pick and chose your fights Steve. Not everyone’s battles are yours to fight”

“Bucky, these guys were catcalling a girl, it would be wrong not to help her out” Steve said, practically vibrating with disgust.

“I’m not saying you shouldv’e done nothin’ I’m just saying, you didn’t have to come in swinging”

Steve looked up at bucky, “how would you know if I came in swingin’, huh?”

Bucky looked at him, “Steve, don’t you know I know you. Of course you did”.

“Whatever, Buck” Steve turns, swatting Bucky’s hands away.

Steve had gotten into a fight. Again. There were these guys catcalling a girl and they weren’t letting up. They followed her a block and a half and probably would have followed her home if Steve hadn’t intervened with his fist. Of course he came in swinging. He always did.

Somehow, Bucky always seemed to find him. In a backalley, or just right in the street, it’s like he had a homing device on him. This time, it was bad. Steve was bleeding all over and wheezing. His lip was split, his knuckles were bloody and bruised, he had cuts and scrapes on both arms and a big nasty bruise on his leg where one of the guys had kicked it. He was short of breath from the exertion and his vision was fogged up. He was sitting on the street, right up next to a building, in and out of consciousness when Bucky found him.

Bucky gathered Steve up real fast and brought him home. Sarah was still at work but she always had rubbing alcohol and gauze and bandages around the house, she knew how Steve was. Bucky fretted over Steve, mind and mouth going a mile a minute.

“Why can’t you just lay offa the fighting? Just for like” Bucky paused, waving his hand, “I don’t know a few weeks, huh? Steve, would it be so bad to look out for yourself for once”

“Yes, it would be, Bucky! I’m doing all I can to help people out, I know what it’s like to be the little guy, alright.” Steve shot back.

He wasn’t fragile. He didn’t need to be babied and coddled. Steve told Bucky just as much.

Bucky brought his hands back to Steve’s face, rubbing the antiseptic over his cuts, “I just worry about you. I don’t want to come home one day and hear my best friend’s gone too, alright!” Bucky gets quiet after that. He didn’t mean to raise his voice like he did and he could feel Steve tense up too.

“It’s not like the fights will get me Buck, it’ll probably be the asthma if anything” Steve chuckled weakly. Well, that didn’t lighten the mood like he thought it would. And then he heard it. And saw it. Bucky shook a little. Then sniffed. He was crying.

Steve put his hand on Bucky’s face, lifted it lightly. Tears were in his eyes, he looked at Steve like he hung the moon and all the stars. Seeing Steve on the side of the road just limp, he thought the worst. Steve opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by Bucky leaning in.

He crushed Steve in a full body hug. Bucky let go of his composure. He didn’t care about anything other than keeping Steve safe and keeping him here. He felt so much better with Steve pressed against his chest. Feeling him breathe against him. Bucky let himself cry. He let himself squeeze Steve, to shake in his arms as his body was wracked with sobs. He was so afraid of losing Steve and then he goes and gets himself beat up.

Bucky didn’t usually let himself feel like this. When Steve was so sick he couldn’t go to school Bucky would spend all day at school worried then rush to Steve’s house to see him. He would sit there right next to Steve, sometimes he would sit on the bed or crawl under the blankets and hold him. That was his best friend. He cared more about Steve than anything else and he would be damned if he didn’t spend every moment with him he could.

Steve spoke softly, “Hey Buck” shaking Bucky out of his haze, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m with you till the end of the line.”

Bucky smiled, his head didn’t leave Steve’s shoulder and they didn’t speak for a while after that. He made himself give a weak nod. Steve pet Bucky’s hair, scratched the nape of his neck, held him as best he could.

They didn’t usually get all touchy and weepy with each other but seeing Steve today, Bucky thought it was an appropriate exception. The last time he felt this helpless was when his Ma died. Eventually, they finished getting Steve all cleaned up and Bucky just picked Steve up from the counter where he was perched and carried him to the couch. It wasn’t a big thing but it was just large enough for Bucky to plop them both down and lay with his feet dangling off the side with Steve on top of him. It wasn’t long until Bucky fell asleep to the beating of Steve’s righteous little heart.

“Steve!” Sarah called as she opened the door, “Honey, I’m home,” and as Sarah closed the door and turned to look for Steve, she found her boys asleep on the couch. She made dinner with what she had, Steve eventually woke up, the light sleeper he is, and helped out. They let Bucky be while they talked in hushed tones about their days and how Steve had gotten into another fight.

“Well, I’m sure the other guys look a lot worse” Sarah says with a wink. “Now, why is Bucky so worn out? Hm? You’re going to give him a heart attack with all that stress you give him. He’ll be grey by 25!”

They both laughed.

“Maybe 30, if he’s lucky” Steve adds and they both laugh so hard Steve coughs enough to startle Bucky awake. He jolts up then goes red, sheepish with embarrassment for falling asleep on their couch.

“Sorry Ma, I’ll just be going” Bucky heads for the door, a hand on his left shoulder stops him.

“Honey,” Sarah looks right into Bucky’s soul, “stay.”

And so he did. Like everytime Bucky stays for dinner at the Rogers home, he helps set the table, stays after and helps do the dishes. Jokes around with Steve and Sarah, feels like he’s where he’s meant to be. Bucky loves it at Steve’s house, more than his own. It feels small, intimate, intense in the best way. After they’re done with the dishes and they’re drying off their hands, Sarah puts the radio on, they dance. Steve’s a wet blanket when it comes to dancing so Bucky and Sarah slow dance around the room. He feels so at home, with his second mother swaying with him and his best friend feigning sour.

They dance round the kitchen for what feels like hours and minutes all in one. Sarah is still in her nurse’s uniform and the dress spins out when they separate for Bucky to turn her. An upbeat song comes on and they did something like a Lindy Hop. Bucky loved it, he loved dancing, loved being here and being a part of this small but perfect family. The tiny apartment kitchen was his whole universe and too soon Bucky was pulled from it when the phone rang. Sarah smiles and picks up the phone, shooting Bucky a wink.

“Hello, Rogers residence, whom and I speaking to?” She asks in a cheery tone, even at this time in the night, with the stars shining bright down onto the city.

Sarah nods, opens her mouth a few times then pauses, like she can’t get a word in. She keeps glancing over at Bucky, he fidgets. He picks at his already torn up nails as Sarah finishes the call.

Sarah hangs up the phone, “Bucky, your dad wants you home, Hon.” Bucky nods and goes to grab his coat. He bids them a hasty goodnight and tells Steve he’ll see him tomorrow at school.

On the walk home Bucky braces himself against the cold fall air and the way his father’s voice will ring through the hall as soon as the door to his home opens. He dreads his father when he gets like this, drinking to excess and taking it out on Bucky.

Bucky opens the door and hears bottles clink, his father is still drinking. Against his better judgement, he makes his way through the foyer and into their living room where his father sits with the raido on. Bucky clears his throat to get his father’s attention, flinching when he turns around. It was better to get this over now so he could go to sleep instead of stay awake with dread if his father noticed he was home in the middle of the night.

“Oh look who finally decided to show up! Where have you been, hm? Out with your faggy little friend?” His voice cuts through the tension between them, Bucky shakes his head.

“Alright then, where have you been James?” His father asks, somehow making a question feel accusatory. There was no winning when his father was like this.

Bucky summons his courage, “Just went out with some guys from the baseball team, we lost track ‘a time.”

That seemed to satisfy his father, who waved him off. Bucky turned on his heel and hightailed it upstairs to his room. He was lucky, maybe there was a good program on the radio tonight. When his door was shut he let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and relaxed his shoulders against the door.

Bucky hated when his father yelled at him, especially when he called Steve faggy. He wishes his father would stop drinking, he wished that everything would go back to normal. When his Ma died it was rough on everybody but Bucky’s father didn’t cope well. Violet and Dahlia were still relatively young enough that they only distantly remember their mother now.

Sometimes Bucky envies them. He treasures the memories he has with his Ma, hoping that she’s still watching over him somewhere. But sometimes, when he’s alone like this and his father has just gotten done yelling, he wishes she wasn’t here to cause the pain. Everytime he thinks it he feels like his dad.

He just wished that everything would go back to the way it was before his Ma died. They were happy and Bucky didn’t have to avoid his dad. He didn’t worry about him drinking and taking care of the girls was always more of a fun thing, not something out of necessity.

Bucky loved his father. Sometimes it’s hard but he tries to remind himself it’s because he just lost the most important person in the world. He fears that’s exactly how he’ll turn out if he looses Steve. His father floats though a drunk haze most days, goes to work hungover and comes home buzzed. Tonight was a heavier night but at least he wasn’t concious enough to yell at Bucky more than he did.

As Bucky falls asleep he thinks about school the next day. He loves school. It’s his escape, he feels safe at school, appreciated there. He doesn’t have to avoid his father and there are teachers there to tell him he’s done a good job. He gets to see Steve at lunch and walks his sisters to and from school. He adores school.

Chapter Text

December 7th, 1933

“Steve, stop.” Bucky shoves the blonde boy on top of him. “Get offa me!”

Steve worms his way back on top of Bucky while he’s trying to study. They’re at Bucky’s house today. They walked home from school, and Bucky invited Steve over; they could do homework and read together. Bucky needed to study for a few finals he had. Steve was not always the academic type, and he didn’t care too much about his grades or study like Bucky did.

Bucky let out a huff as Steve grabbed his textbook in one hand and his stack of flashcards in the other. What a menace. “Can’t study without any flashcards!” Steve mocked, waving Bucky’s things in the air.

“Steve, come on, these finals are important! The science one is worth like half of my grade!” Bucky whined and made grabby hands at his textbook.

He appreciated the company, but sometimes Steve could be a real pain in his ass. Like when he was trying to teach himself an entire unit of moles in chemistry. He was so fucked for this final, and Steve wasn’t being any help. They had only been home for maybe an hour or so, and Bucky was just getting into the rhythm of writing his flashcards from his notebook when Steve started up.

He got bored a little easier than Bucky; he was drawing Bucky in his room. Bucky was on his stomach on the bed with his notes and book propped up on his pillow, while Steve was halfway down the bed leaning against the wall with his legs draped over Bucky’s back. He held his sketchbook and scratched away at it until he got bored and just laid right on top of Bucky.

Steve got off the bed with Bucky’s stuff and brought it out to the kitchen. He set it down on the counter as Bucky followed a few steps behind him. “Buck, you can’t study on an empty stomach; it ain’t right.” Bucky rolled his eyes, but he was hungry.

“Fine, fine, you got me.” Bucky smiled and shook his head; he was so fond of Steve.

They cut up some apples, called the girls into the kitchen, and had their snack. Rose was the first one to the kitchen and got up on the stools by the counter and took a few apple slices. She liked when Steve was there, and she told him about the book she was reading. The other girls came downstairs from their room moments later and were vying for a spot at the counter. Bucky scooped up his littlest sister, Dahlia, in his arms so she could reach the apple slices.

Bucky handed Dahlia an apple slice and watched her little fingers wrap around it. He swayed back and forth with her, smiling when she reached out a small hand towards the counter and made grabby hands. This time Steve beat him to it and handed her another apple slice. Their eyes caught for a moment before Bucky looked away, smiling.

They all chatted while they had their snack. Rose, Violet, and Steve sat at the counter while Bucky held Dahlia on the other side. He held her on his hip, just as he’d seen his Ma do with the other girls. Bucky loved holding his girls, loved walking them to school, and loved helping them with their homework.

Bucky loved being the oldest of the four of them. While they were all in the kitchen, Bucky felt a flash of something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew he never wanted this feeling to end. Bucky wanted to stop time and keep everyone here in his arms. This must be what Heaven felt like. It was sweet; Bucky had always felt kind of like a second father to his sisters, but now, he had thoughts of really being one. He wanted to have something like this, maybe with Steve.

Wait.

That was new. He always knew he would be friends with Steve until the end of the line, but this? This was new. Bucky started having all sorts of domestic thoughts about himself and Steve. He got lost in the way they could live somewhere on their own one day, how they could cook and clean and bicker about chores together, just the two of them. How they could fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up to the soft press of another body. The way they could shop together and pick out things for their home. They would have pictures of themselves together and with family on the walls. They would bake a cake for each of their birthdays and go on dates. Thinking about coming home to Steve drawing, giving him a kiss on the cheek. On the lips…

Since when did Bucky have these kinds of romantic thoughts for Steve? He had always been his best friend, but he never thought he would want Steve like this. Didn’t know he could want Steve like this. But now that he had admitted to himself that he did want Steve like that, he couldn’t stop it. Even as he held Dahlia in his arms and he watched Steve, Rose, and Violet talking, he felt his chest tighten at the sweet scene. Bucky couldn’t help it; he loved Steve Rogers.

Loved the way Steve got on so well with his sisters, how he never knew when to stop, and how even when the worst looked him dead in the eye, Steve stared right back. He was fearless and gorgeous. A talented artist and a poet when it came to insults. Bucky loved Steve Rogers in all his tiny righteous glory. Bucky was a queer, and he fell in love with his best friend. Great.

“Buck, whatcha thinkin’ about over there?” Steve asked. Bucky could hear the smile in his voice before he saw it. He shook his head, clearing out those thoughts.

“Uh. Nothing. Just about how it’ll take a miracle to pass this final with you draggin me out here,” Bucky responded, smile bright but eyes dim.

Just because he felt a change in himself doesn’t mean Steve had to know it. Rose shot Bucky a look of something he couldn’t quite put together. As quickly as her look showed up, it vanished when she went back to chatting with Steve. When snacks were done and the girls got bored of the older boys and abandoned them in favor of their dolls again, Steve and Bucky went back to his room.

Bucky sat at his desk, propped up his textbook on the wall, and pointedly ignored Steve trailing behind him. “Bucky, did I do something?” Steve sounded small. Bucky tensed; he hated when Steve sounded like a wounded puppy. Especially because Steve doesn’t deserve his best friend thinking thoughts of him like the ones Bucky’s having.

“No!” Bucky blurts, and he clears his throat, “no,” this one more composed. “I’m just so stressed with this final comin up, Stevie; I’m worried about it, that’s all,” Bucky lied through his teeth.

He’d never felt worse. How could he be thinking about living alone, just the two of them, holding hands, kissing each other - No. Bucky had to stop.

“Hey, I gotta finish this up, and your Ma’s gonna be expecting you for dinner soon. I’ll walk ya home, huh?” Bucky needed some time. He needed to get Steve off of his mind for a while. He needed a moment to bury these feelings at least six feet under.

“Sure, Buck. You’re okay though, right?” Steve was incredulous. Of course he was. Bucky didn’t ever really act weird like this unless he was hiding something from Steve, like that one time a few years ago he had to keep a surprise party quiet. Bucky almost avoided him for two weeks, and every time Steve saw Bucky, he had a weird look on his face, like he was barely containing whatever he wanted to blurt out.

Steve let it go, and while they got their shoes on and buttoned their coats up, Steve kept trying to drop hints about being able to tell him anything. Bucky was having none of it. He knew what Steve was doing, and it wasn’t going to work. Nice try, Stevie, but hon, you’re not getting anything outta me today.

They walked home in relative silence. The streets were bustling with people and cars, but Bucky had never felt so alone. When they got to Steve’s apartment, he pulled Bucky into a silent hug. He didn’t know what was going on with his friend, but he wanted him to feel loved. Bucky smiled as he leaned down to fully hug Steve, and nothing else in the world mattered but Steve’s bony arms wrapped around him and his ribs poking into Bucky’s stomach.

Chapter Text

December 7th, 1933, approximately 10 minutes after Steve gets home

Bucky uses his hip to close the door, busy shucking his gloves and coat off, and the slam reverberates around the house. He calls out, “Rose!”

Bucky takes his shoes off, leaving them by the door.

“Rose! Where are you? I need to talk to you!”

Their father wouldn’t be home yet for another hour or so. Bucky needed to start dinner but wanted to talk to Rose first. She knew everything, and he needed to tell someone, or it would kill him. Bucky and Rose were close; they were only two years apart in age, and they shared a lot of things with each other. They were the oldest two and had started taking on responsibilities around the house when their mother died.

He makes his way upstairs. She’s probably in her room or with the girls in their shared room. Bucky and Rose had their own rooms, while Violet and Dahlia shared; they’d figured that one of the girls would move into Bucky’s room when he goes to college.

Bucky walks past his own room and sees Rose already sitting on his bed. He walks in, “There you are.”

Rose smiles, gets up, and hugs Bucky.

“You just realized it, didn’t you?”

“What?”

Rose pulls away from the hug, looking up at Bucky. He really was clueless, she thought.

“You just realized you’re in love with Steve.”

Bucky doesn’t know how she does it. It’s like she can read his stupid mind. Bucky exhales, bracing himself for a verbal beating from Rose. She said it in a way that was undecipherable to Bucky. She was mad. He steps back from her and weakly gestures for her to get on with it. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and— “What are you doing?”

Bucky opens his eyes again. “I—well, I figured,” he stammers. “I just thought, you know. Now that you know.” He waves his hands. Did he always flail around like this? God, what was happening to him?

“I just figured that you would tell me that you’re disappointed in me and that you hate me and that you never want to see my faggot ass ever again,” he all but spits out. He wrings his hands, digs his nail into his thumb, and waits for her to finally berate him.

“Bucky” Rose sighs, “Bucky, my God.”

She comes back to him and hugs him again.

“Bucky, Jesus, I love you. I’m not mad at you or disappointed in you. I know what Pa says, but it’s not right. He’s not right. Bucky,” she leans back, still holding his shoulders, to look in his eyes, “James Barnes I will never stop being your sister or your biggest supporter, alright?”

Bucky nods dumbly. Tears threaten to spill from his eyes. He can’t do anything but nod and pull Rose back into him. Bucky put his head on top of hers, closed his eyes, and let himself stay in the moment. He didn’t want to think about facing Steve or about the possibility of his father finding out.

“I love him so much, Rose,” Bucky sniffled. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Well, you can tell him and see if he feels the same, which,” she laughs, “I’m pretty sure he does. Or, you could just suffer in silence for the rest of your life.” Rose was good at reading people, always had been, always will be, and she knew it. She knew even before Steve and Bucky knew that they were meant to be together. That they loved each other more than anything on Earth and beyond.

What would he do without Rose?

Shortly after, Bucky started dinner, and Rose helped him set the table and rein in the little girls. They sat at the island doing homework while dinner simmered, and Buck felt a little bit of the weight on his shoulders had lifted. He was so lucky to have Rose in his life. Even though he was the big brother, he felt like she was wise beyond her years. Rose told Bucky to not tell their father, which, of course, he knew not to.

They ate in relative silence. Their father came home from work not too much later, and the girls came down when he called them down to dinner. Much of the conversation was lost on Bucky, who kept thinking about his newfound feelings for Steve. He wasn't sure what tomorrow would be like, but he dwelled on the thought of Steve feeling the same. Tonight, he was going to let himself enjoy it.

Chapter Text

February 10th, 1934

Bucky waited in the hall by his locker where him and Steve usually met for lunch. He was here this morning so Bucky got a little worried when Steve didn’t show up. Who was he getting beaten up by now?

He wandered the halls a bit, trying to avoid teachers until one particularly strict one caught Bucky. “James, what are you doing just aimlessly wandering the halls? You look awfully suspicious” she never used his nickname.

“Sorry Ma’am, just looking for Steve” Bucky scratches the back of his head and shrugs.

“He was sent home earlier today, let me escort you to lunch” and with that she turned on her heel and waited for Bucky to follow.

All he could think about was why Steve was sent home? He was fine this morning, he had a bit of a cough but when didn’t he? Bucky wanted to ask why but thought it would be better to keep quiet and not push his luck. The rest of the day he was worried about Steve and those pesky feelings kept creeping up on him. In chemistry he was distracted, his teacher lectured about the gravity and balancing equations but all Bucky could think about why Steve would go home. He usually got through full days and he only went home when he was real sick. Bucky hoped it wasn’t bad this time.

Bucky was anxious for the bell to ring and as soon as it did, he hightailed it out the doors. The whole walk to Steve’s house was filled with the worst thoughts. What if this was the last time? Bucky always thought it but it never was, but how could you be sure? Steve had looked a little more pale than usual and Bucky had teased him about it. It was February after all, it’s hard to get a tan in the middle of the New York winter but Steve didn’t say much. This morning Bucky chalked it up to tiredness or just not thinking it was that funny but now, Bucky was worried.

He jogged up the stairs to Steve’s second floor apartment and knocked on the door. Sarah answered, she looked exhausted but her face softened when she saw Bucky.

“Hey hon,” she was always sweet to him, “Steve’s not feeling great.”

Sarah invited him in, he knew where to go. As soon as he saw Steve it was apparent that he was worse off than usual. His face was ghostly pale, he shivered in his sleep and his body looked even smaller than it usually did. “He’s sleeping now, but he might wake up in a bit” Sarah offered.

Bucky turned back to look at her in the doorway, she looked between Steve and Bucky. He smiled, she smiled back, they were both faking and they both knew it. Sarah crossed the threshold of the small room and hugged Bucky. He needed it as much as she did.

“He’s going to be okay” Bucky said, convincing himself every bit as much as he was trying to convince Sarah. She just squeezed him a little harder then let go, she had to get back to work, she was home on break. “I need to get back to the hospital Hon, but please stay if you’d like. I know Steve would like to wake up to you being here.” Bucky nodded, wished Sarah a good night shift and pulled a chair into the bedroom.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, sitting by the bed when he heard a small wheeze followed by some nasty coughing. The rattle in Steve’s lungs was aggressive and Bucky winced at the sound. He could only imagine the kind of pain his friend was in.

“Hey punk, finally decided to join the living again?”

“Buck” Steve was interrupted by a coughing fit, “how long have you been here? Where’s Ma?” he asked, embarrassed he’d been sleeping while his best friend was waiting on him.

“She’s at work, had to go in for the rest of her night shift. I’ve been here since school let out.” Bucky put the back of his hand to Steve’s forehead, “How are you feeling?”

Steve coughed again and tried to sit up “fine, just tired and foggy, you know?”

Bucky did know. Sometimes when Steve got real sick he would have these brain fog moments where he had a hard time thinking right. He looked tired too, despite probably having slept most of the day Steve looked like he hadn’t slept a wink in a week. It was always rough to see him like this, for Bucky to see the boy he loved so much hurting. He hated feeling helpless too, hated that he couldn’t do anything to help Steve get better. He had to be the most impatient person ever but he would sure as hell wait for eternity for Steve.

Steve shivered then, pulling the blankets to his thin frame. Bucky put his hand on Steve’s, he felt the clammy skin stick to his hand. Bucky frowned, he was burning up but obviously Steve felt cold. That wasn’t a good sign.

Bucky stood and padded over to the kitchen where he opened the ice box. He took out the frozen rag that was kept there for when Steve was sick. He was hot to the touch and Bucky was starting to get concerned. He brought it back into the room and Steve was already asleep again. Bucky shook his head with a grin, of course he fell right back to skeep when he left for just a moment.

He sat down again, this time gently putting the cloth on Steve’s forehead. Ha! He couldn’t fight it now. Bucky looked at Steve’s small form, his shaking breathing, and rattling lungs and worried about the next time his friend would wake up. Bucky sat there, alternating between watching Steve breathe and doing his homework. He liked to read to Steve when he was sick and Bucky did his homework, liked to pretend he was teaching it to Steve.

In between studying and staring at Steve, Bucky’s mind started to wander. He began thinking about sitting in a home of their own, with a bedroom not unlike Steve’s. He thought about waking up in the mornings next to Steve, going to school with him and eventually getting a job. He thought about taking Steve out on a date, maybe a nice dinner or something then taking him home after and laying on the bed. He thought about having sex for the first time, sharing an intimate part of himself with Steve, having him all to himself.

It was then that Steve stirred in the bed, he blinked his eyes open and held out his hand, searching for Bucky. When he found him, Steve pulled Bucky’s arm, inviting him into bed. How convenient for Bucky.

Bucky gathered up the covers and slid in under them, situating his arm under Steve’s head and curing his body around Steve’s. Bucky rubbed his back, held him through coughing fits, and soon enough Steve was back asleep. They stayed like that for some time. When Bucky knew Steve was fast asleep he starting talking to him.

“Steve, I love you. I’ve known for a little while but, I just wanted to tell you now you know?” He hesitated, it was the first time he’d said it out loud. Sure, Rose had figured it out but, he never actually said it. Not to Steve.

“I love you for a lot of reasons Steve but the one I like the most is how resilient you are. You’re such a fighter in every way and I look up to you a lot. You’re so righteous and I love the fire that you have in your eyes. You’re passionate about all sorts of things, like your art, your family, protecting everyone. I know you’re going to get through this like you have all the other times but, baby, I’m just not sure until you do. I’m scared of loosing you Steve and I don’t know what I’d do without ya. I love you more than anything in the world Steve Rogers, and you can count on that.”

Steve stirred again, blearily opening his eyes, “what was that Buck?” Where you sayin’ something?” Bucky turned bright red, he could feel his cheeks burning.

“Yeah, just saying I’m with you ‘till the end of the line, sweetheart” Bucky said, stroking Steve’s sweaty hair. His body was damp with sweat, the exertion of fighting off whatever Steve had got took a toll on his rickety body. Steve buried his face in Bucky’s chest, letting himself relax as Bucky rubbed his back. Soon enough, he fell asleep again as Bucky’s fingers danced up and down Steve’s curved spine, trying to massage the stress out of his body.

Sarah came home as the sun was setting and checked in on the boys. They laid there sleeping in each other’s arms and almost felt bad waking the both of them up.

“Boys, it’s dinner” she said, while gently shaking both their shoulders to wake them. Bucky woke first and Steve barely moved, his arms and legs sluggish with fatigue. Bucky told Sarah that he’d better get home for dinner and that he hopes Steve feels better.

“I can’t be teaching you everything you missed now, Steve. You better be back soon” Bucky teased.

“I will Buck. See you tomorrow.” and with that, closed his eyes again, drifting off to sleep for the night. As Sarah walked Bucky to the door, a thought popped into his head.

Bucky turned to Sarah, right in front of the door, “You see all kinds of sick people right?” he asked.

Sarah looked at him, Bucky was taller than her now, “Yes,” a beat, “why?” she questioned.

Bucky wrung his hands.

“Well, I was thinking, you - you know how to treat a lot of different diseases so I was wondering if you could help me with mine?”

“Bucky, are you alright?” Sarah put her hand to Bucky’s forehead, “do you feel sick? Nauseous? Lightheadded or fatigued? Let me -”

Bucky blacked away from her, taking a deep, shaky breath, he held her hands in front of them. Sarah stopped her questions and looked at Bucky, expectant.

“I - I think I’m a homosexual”

The silence felt like an eternity. Bucky didn’t move, he didn’t breathe, he just fucked up the one good thing he had going. She was never going to let him see Steve again, no matter how - Sarah hugged him. She squeezed Bucky, brought her hand up to hold the back of his head. And even though he was taller than her, he felt so small, he just wanted to curl up and cry.

Sarah pulled away from Bucky, holding him firmly on each shoulder, “Bucky, Honey, look at me,” he brought his eyes to hers from the floor he was staring a hole into, “good. Hon, that’s not an illness, that’s just the way some people are. Baby, there’s nothing wrong with you. I know you and I love you, no matter what, okay?” She had so much conviction for a small woman but Bucky believed her. He believed that it was okay, that if she could love and accept him, maybe Steve could too.

She rubbed her hands up and down Bucky’s arms, how did she know how to be so comforting. He hung his head, and Sarah hugged him again, his head on her shoulder.

“There’s nothing wrong with you baby. You’re alright and I’m happy you told me. You need to be careful but one day I hope you won’t have to be. You’re always safe in my home hon.”

Bucky left not soon after, walking home in the dark, snow and ice crunching under his feet. His thoughts swirled in his brain, he wasn’t broken, he could still count on Sarah Rogers to accept him even if no one else did. And Rose, although he never really doubted her. He had a place to feel safe, even when his own home wasn’t welcoming. Bucky had told someone, an actual adult and he didn’t get cussed out or hit. He was relived. He would never tell his dad, Bucky knew his stance on… all that. Not that he thought his dad would take a particular interest in much of anything to do with him, Bucky was worried that his dad would start to figure it out. That his son was a homosexual.

When he reached the door to his home, Bucky siged before fitting the key in and pushing the door open. He muttered a quick hello to his father then went upstairs. He undressed himself, rubbing the knots out of his shoulders, well, the ones he could reach at least. Seeing Steve sick had him more worked up than usual, maybe because it was his first time seeing him real bad since he realized his feelings.

Bucky never really believed in God but he was raised a Catholic so he got on his knees, Steve could use all the help he could get.

“Dear God, long time no see,” he laughed, empty, “I need you to take care of Steve and make sure he’s doing alright. See, I’m real worried about him and I just don’t know what I’d do without him, that little punk. And please, also watch over Sarah, she needs some support. They’re like my family. Oh! And also watch over Rose, and Violet, and Dahlia, I love ‘em so much.”

Chapter Text

March 19th, 1934

Bucky is sitting on the couch with Steve. He’s reading a book while Steve lies across his legs and draws in his sketchbook. It’s been a quiet afternoon; Sarah’s been at work all day, and they didn’t have any plans for the weekend.

Bucky was so content to sit here and bask in the sun streaming in from the window. Steve’s pencil scratched away at his sketchbook while Bucky was lost in his book, Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley. It was a great story, scary but nonetheless fantastic. Bucky was engrossed until Steve had other plans.

“Hey, Buck. We never really did anything for your birthday other than that boring museum.”

“Ugh, yeah, Stevie, we did the Center for Brooklyn History, not some boring museum,” Bucky retorted, mocking Steve’s tone.

“Sure, sure. Don’t you want to do something else? Maybe something fun? Like seein’ a giant turtle?”

Bucky gave Steve a mock sour look, and they both burst out laughing. Bucky was so excited about that damn turtle he couldn’t stop talking about it for weeks later, and it became a running bit with Steve and his family. Bucky used to hate it, but now he just plays into it. He doubles over laughing and gasps for air. It was such a stupid joke, but it had been around for so long that Steve used it in the dumbest situations, and it never failed to make Bucky laugh and everyone else pause in confusion.

Where was Steve even going with this? Bucky liked what they did for his birthday, and he’d never made much of a fuss about it before. He didn’t know what Steve’s deal was, but he was going to figure it out.

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” He grabbed the hem of Steve’s shirt and tugged it up to tickle Steve’s back.

Steve screeched and tried to wriggle away from Bucky. “Hey! That’s not fair, what the hell, Buck!”

He just continued torturing his friend until Steve eventually flailed around enough that he fell off the couch. What a goon. Bucky moved to get Steve from where he was on the floor, but he kicked him, and Bucky feigned hurt before trying again. Steve kicked and shook, but eventually Bucky caught his legs and held him down. All the while they were laughing and screaming at each other. Bucky loved a good play-fight and loved making Steve go red from laughter and exertion. Steve once confessed to Bucky that he was glad Bucky was like this with him, that he treated Steve like he would anyone else, and didn’t just see him as fragile.

Bucky got on top of Steve, straddling him and going in for Steve’s armpits. That was the real killer, and Bucky knew it. Steve swatted him away and tried to push Bucky off of him but to no avail.

“Bucky,” Steve whined, “don’t do it, I’ll punch you in your pretty face! I swear I will!”

Bucky stopped for just a moment, and Steve let his guard down, and that’s when Bucky went in for the kill. He swooped his hands right under Steve’s and got him under both arms, and Steve let out a scream. He was laughing through it, and Bucky loved every second of it. He finally let up on Steve when he was gasping for air and looked like he really needed a break. He sat back, still straddling his bony hips, and took a long breath and then exhaled with a huff.

Steve looked up at Bucky; he was still panting, and his face was pink from the activity. Bucky stared right back at him. He got lost in the way Steve’s eyes roved over him and kept coming back to meet his. His best friend was gorgeous; no matter what anyone said to Bucky, all he could see was a gorgeous, pretty boy.

Before Bucky could look away, Steve spoke in a breathy voice: “James Buchanan Barnes, if you want to kiss me so bad, you better do it already.”

And Bucky is stunned. He doesn’t have much time to take it in because Steve grabs onto him and hoists himself up to Bucky and pushes their lips together. His brain stopped working. He sat there limp for a second, then his brain caught up to his body. Bucky kissed Steve back and brought his hands up to cup Steve’s face to pull him in closer.

This has got to be a dream. Or maybe Heaven?

They’re both inexperienced, but nothing has ever been so good. Bucky thinks he might die on the spot. Steve pulls away; he’s breathing heavily. His face is red, and Bucky hasn’t ever been more attracted to Steve in his life. He dives back in, capturing Steve’s lips in another sloppy kiss. Bucky had read about this kind of thing in books, but he’d never really had ‘the talk’ or any experience. This was Bucky’s first kiss. And it was with Steve fucking Rogers, for God’s sake. He tried to open his mouth a bit, to lick into Steve’s mouth. He gets the hint eventually and opens his mouth; Bucky slides his tongue in. He rubs his tongue along Steve’s teeth, and Steve moves his own.

It’s a new sensation, honestly kind of weird when Bucky thinks about it. So he doesn’t and just keeps on putting his mouth on Steve’s.

Bucky pulls Steve to him, wanting him closer. He brings one hand around to the back of Steve’s head, pulling him in right where he wants him. Then Steve pulls away; he’s panting now. His breath comes in short bouts, and his chest heaves. His face is red now, and Bucky is in love.

“I love you.”

Bucky might as well shoot himself in the foot—wait, Steve just kissed him. Steve. Just. Kissed. Him.

“I love you! I love you, Steve.” And Bucky dives in again. He gets on his hands and knees and grabs Steve to pick him up and bring him back to the couch. He spins them around and deposits Steve on the couch and straddles his thin legs. He puts his lips on Steve’s again, sucking on his bottom lip.

Steve’s lips are chapped, and Bucky can’t imagine his are any better, but he’s in Heaven. He moves his hand from the back of the couch back to Steve's head, cupping his face. He can’t get enough of the feeling of Steve’s short breaths between kisses.

Bucky pulls away and looks at Steve’s face. He’s pink with blush, and his thin chest is heaving. Bucky is down so bad, but he doesn’t care. The most beautiful boy just kissed him back. Bucky’s been holding in these feelings for Steve for years, and now that he’s got a taste, he needs it all.

“So… How is this going to work now?” Steve asks, putting his hands on Bucky’s chest.

Bucky’s lips turn up, and his face crinkles into that sweet smile of his. “I don’t know, doll, but I don’t care as long as I’m doing it with you.” He tilts his head and leans in again.

Bucky wants to love Steve until they die. Wants to hold him and kiss him and give him the world. Bucky wants to love the pain away from Steve. Wants to hold him and take care of him for the rest of their lives. Bucky is so devoted to Steve. He worships him.

Bucky kisses Steve again. Brings his head down, eyes darting up to Steve’s, then closing his lips around him. Bucky could die a happy man right now; his life would be complete.

“Bucky—Bucky,” Steve huffs. Bucky ignores him in favor of kissing down Steve’s neck. Steve pushes him off, and Bucky looks hurt.

“I love you too.”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Bucky has died and gone to Heaven. He beams at Steve.

“Bucky, you have no idea how much I’ve been thinkin about you.”

“Honey, I think I do.”

Bucky gets off of Steve’s lap and settles down next to him on the couch. He invites Steve to turn towards him a bit, touching their legs together. Bucky’s fingers finds Steve’s and he hopes this will be a new thing. Handholding.

“Bucky, really. I’ve just been nervous to tell you because I really did think you liked dames, and I just thought I’d lose the only person who’s really made me feel like me.” Steve wrings his hands, looking anywhere but at Bucky. “I just have felt so unlovable my whole life, and I knew you wouldn't ever look at me because you're so. So—you. And then I saw Rose the other day and she told me how you felt and I wanted to make a move but I didn’t want to pressure you or anything—" Steve was cut off with a quick press of lips to his.

Bucky knew he could talk a mile a minute, but Steve really gave him a run for his money. All the while he just looked into Steve’s ocean blue eyes, melting at the words. Nothing in the entire world mattered but the words Steve was tripping over as he talked.

“Steve, I’m glad we feel the same, and when did you have time to talk through this with Rose?”

“You know when we went out for your birthday to that lame museum?”

“Center for Brooklyn History,” he corrected. “Yeah.”

And then he put two and two together. Steve had asked Bucky for some jacket or something he had left at Bucky’s house. As he searched for the sweater, Rose must have told Steve about Bucky’s confession and his feelings for him. Steve was taken aback and a little miffed that Rose could see through him so easily but very pleased with the outcome.

“She saw me watching you go upstairs; I was lookin at your butt,” Steve confesses.

Bucky beamed. He was the luckiest boy in the whole wide world.

“So, what are we now? Boyfriends?” Bucky asked, shooting an eyebrow towards the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Steve nods, “yeah, I think so.”

“Alright, boyfriend.”

They held hands in silence, drinking in the new love and the feeling of being together like this. It was new but so comfortable in a way Bucky had never felt before. He thinks it’s love.

“So… You like my butt?”

“Bucky!”

Chapter Text

March 30th, 1934

“Steve, you’re so talented you could burn water! Get out; I’m not letting you touch anything.”

Bucky laughed as Steve smiled up at him. He was in the way, attempting to take the spoon out of Bucky’s hand as he mixed.

“Baby, I’m tryna make you a nice dinner!”

He swatted at Steve’s hand, using his hip to bump into his new boyfriend.

“If you really want to help, why don’t you stir the potatoes?”

Steve frowned but grabbed the spoon Bucky handed him and went to stir the potatoes. Bucky smiled and got started on cutting the chicken he had gotten. He and Rose were in charge of shopping for the family, and if Bucky had spent a little more than they were supposed to on something nice to make Steve happy, his father wouldn’t notice. It was rare to find a nice cut of meat these days—well, any kind of meat, really. Bucky had been planning on making Steve something nice as a little celebration of them getting together, and when he saw the chicken, he knew what he was making.

Gnocchi was one of his Ma’s favorite things to make, and she passed her recipe down to the kids. He loved cooking with his Ma. They would be in the kitchen for hours just messing around with different recipes and trying new ones. Bucky had taken to cooking early and would ask his Ma to help before he could reach the counter. She would always laugh and get him a stool so he could help stir the bowls or crack eggs. He still loved to cook, but now there was less to cook with, and his eyes would well up when he was in the kitchen alone sometimes.

Bucky smiled at the memories of his Ma teaching him how to cook as he cracked the eggs and whisked them together. He turned his head to check on Steve, who was fully concentrated on stirring the pot with potatoes in it. Bucky chuckled at his new boyfriend.

“You’re going to stare a hole right into that pot, Steve.”

Steve turned to him; he looked sheepish and shrugged at Bucky. He laughed and went over to Steve and hugged him from behind. Here he was having these domestic moments with Steve. It was all he’d ever wanted, and now he had it. Bucky relaxed his body, fitting his head into the crook of Steve’s neck. He felt so at home with Steve; he shifted his head and placed a kiss on his neck. Steve brings his free hand up to cup Bucky’s face and turns his head to kiss Bucky on the mouth.

Steve slides his tongue over Bucky’s lips, and he parts them to let Steve in. He breathes into it like he was made for this. Bucky moves his tongue along Steve’s and puts his hands on his hips to turn him around. They’re face-to-face, kissing now, and Steve brings his hands up to Bucky’s back and rests them down on his hips. This casual kissing had become a common thing between them, and Bucky loved it. Every stolen kiss before leaving one another at the door or ones where they’re safe behind it like they were now.

Bucky breaks the kiss and swallows. His eyes dart between Steve and the window behind him and then back to Steve. And his lips. He smiles and gives Steve a light smack on the butt.

“Better get back to work, hon.” And with that, he winks and turns back to working on the chicken. He hears a huff from behind him and smiles to himself.

Later, when they’ve rolled out the gnocchi and put it in the pot to cook, Bucky finds himself back on top of Steve. They’re on Steve’s bed this time, and Bucky is leaning over Steve while he lies on the bed. His hands were on either side of Steve’s head while Steve’s roamed down his body. He felt the hands on his shoulders slowly slide down to his chest and then finally come to rest on his hips. Bucky shifted his weight some to bring himself closer to Steve and slot their bodies together. But before Bucky could really settle himself on top of Steve, the timer rang through the small apartment. He huffed out a breath and lolled his head to the side before shaking it and slowly getting up.

Steve followed him into the kitchen while keeping his hands on his man. Bucky drained the water from the gnocchi and got busy plating their dinner. All the while Steve was stuck to his back, roaming his hands across his chest and stomach. Bucky loved the way Steve made him feel about his body and loved that Steve loved it.

“Honey, it’s done. Let go of me; let’s go sit at the table.”

“Alright,” a pause, “Oh, wow. Bucky, this smells great.”

Bucky smirked at him. “What, were you doubting my cooking skills?”

“No, I just—this. It just might be the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

It’s been hard to find decent food since the recession started, and Bucky felt like he’d only ever live with barely enough to get by. He wanted to make something nice for Steve; cooking was a part of his love language, and he felt he couldn’t even rely on that. He smiled at Steve as they sat down at the little table in the kitchen. Sarah wouldn’t be home for a while because she was on a night shift, and they had the house to themselves.

“I woulda had you over to mine, but my pa’s home more than usual, and you know how he gets.”

Steve nodded gravely. His mouth was already full, and he made a face at Bucky.

“What? That bad?”

Steve swallowed. “No!—no, just talking about your Pa.” He swung his fork around. “That’s what the face was for. No, this is fantastic.”

“Gee, make a guy blush, Steve,” he chuckled. “Yeah, my Pa’s been home more and more lately. I’m kinda worried about it.”

“Buck, there’s nothing to be worried about. Maybe he’s just tired, or they’re giving him fewer shifts this week. You never know.”

And with that, he dug back into dinner. Steve might’ve been skinny, but he could eat like a horse sometimes. They talked about school and how Bucky was thinking about getting a job. He thought it might be nice to have a little extra income, especially if his father’s getting less work. It’d be nice to be able to get Steve a birthday present this year too.

When they’d finished up, they brought their dishes to the sink and stood shoulder to shoulder. Bucky washed and Steve dried, and all was right with the world. When it got dark, Bucky sauntered to the door, pulled Steve in for a goodbye kiss, and walked home smiling.

Chapter Text

April 6th, 1934

“James!” his father bellowed. He sounded mad, and if there was one thing Bucky hated, it was when people got mad at him.

He ran down the stairs. “Yeah, Pa?”

He skidded to a halt in the kitchen, where his father was standing. He held a small piece of paper in his hand. Shit. It was a picture from a photobooth that he and Steve had stumbled across on Coney Island a week or so ago. In the middle picture, Bucky kisses Steve’s cheek; it’s playful, but Bucky’s father doesn’t see it that way.

“James,” he’s stern, serious in a way that makes Bucky wish he were dead. “What do you think you’re doing? Going around making friends with those queers and then kissing one on the cheek? Hm?”

Bucky stumbles over his words. He rushes to defend himself, “It’s just. It’s just what people do nowadays, you know; just a friendly peck on the cheek is all.”

How could he be so stupid? God, his father was going to kill him.

“James, listen to me, I don’t want you hanging around with him anymore. He brings you down, and you don’t need that, alright. People just bring you down.”

“Dad, just because you’re the only parent here doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.”

Bucky’s dad was taken aback, and he regretted saying anything the moment he saw his dad swing at him. He dodged just by an inch and stumbled back. His dad swung again, but he was made slow by the alcohol, and Bucky turned on his heel and ran up the stairs. He hoped his dad wouldn’t follow him.

Hope never did anything for Bucky.

He locked the door to his bedroom; he was scared of what his dad would do. He’d never taken a swing before, and Bucky was worried that he wouldn’t stop once he got started. His dad had never been violent before; Bucks had never been hit. Not by his dad, at least.

His father pounded on the door and yelled at him. He hoped the girls wouldn’t come out of their rooms. He hoped they were already asleep and that his father didn’t wake them. Bucky opened his window and hopped out onto the roof. He didn’t leave the house this way very often, but desperate times. He hopped over to the fire escape that was close to the roof and climbed down.

He went around to the front of the house and knocked on the door, hoping to get his father distracted. He didn’t need him busting the door down or waking the girls. He headed for Steve’s after seeing his dad open the door from a distance. He yelled into the darkness and then slammed the door. Bucky winced even a block away.

He knew the walk well and let his mind wander on the short journey over to Steve’s. He thought about finding work. No one was hiring, and Bucky felt like he was running out of options. He got into an argument with his dad a few days ago, and he’d told Bucky he got fired. He was a manager at one of those nice department stores, and they’d fired him for being late and drunk.

Bucky didn’t realize how lost in thought he was until he’d reached the river. He turned back and made the short walk back to Steve’s apartment and, before he knew it, was taking the steps up two at a time. He hesitated before knocking but figured the Rogers' would still be up; they were night owls.

He rapped on the door a few times and heard footsteps approaching. A moment later the door swung open.

‘Bucky, what are you doing here? What’s wrong, hon?” Sarah questioned.

Steve appeared behind her and looked at Bucky; realization hit both of them as they ushered him inside. Bucky had told Steve about his dad losing his job and getting in arguments with him more and more.

“It got bad, didn’t it? He didn’t kick you out, did he?” Steve guessed. Bucky shook his head and bit his lip.

“No, he just swung at me. He’s never done that before.”

Sarah and Steve looked ready to defend Bucky at a moment’s notice or maybe to march over to his house and teach his dad a lesson.

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

Sarah nodded and gave him a hug. “We were just finishing up dishes, sweetheart.”

“Go get comfy, Buck; I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Hon, I can finish up dishes,” and with that Sarah shooed them both out of the kitchen.

Steve takes Bucky’s hand and leads him into his room. He sits Bucky on the bed and takes off his shoes, then his shirt. They’re silent, but their eyes speak volumes. Bucky doesn’t want to talk about it; he just wants to go to sleep. He’ll tell Steve about it in the morning. They climb under the covers, and Steve curls up behind Bucky, hugging him from behind. He feels safe.

For the second time that night, Bucky lets his mind wander, but this time, he’s safe and he’s home.

In the morning he wakes up early and leaves Steve and Sarah a note thanking them for letting him stay and apologizing for leaving so early. He slips his shoes on and quietly closes the door behind him. Bucky walks home and hopes his father is still sleeping. It’s early and the sun is coming up; the skyline looks gorgeous against the fiery orange of the sky. When he gets home, Bucky quietly pads up the stairs and slips into Rose’s room.

He nudges her shoulder to wake her. She blinks away sleep and squints up at him through the dim light.

“Bucky, what was going on last night? Where were you?”

“Dad and I got in an argument again. He tried to hit me.”

Rose’s eyes widened, and she let out a small gasp.

“He hit you?”

“No, he tried to hit me,” he paused, “but, yeah. He’s never done that.”

“I know. Why did he?”

“Told him he couldn’t tell me what to do just because Ma died.”

Rose shook her head. They tried not to mention their Ma around their father because he got more upset than usual when he was drinking.

“He told me to stop hangin’ around with Steve.”

“Oh, so you got in a fight with Dad over your boyfriend?” Rose smirked. Now she was playing.

Bucky bit back a smile.

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

“But, you’re fine now?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Bucky sighed. “I slept over at Steve’s.”

“Oh my God, Bucky, are you having sex with Steve?”

“Rose! Oh my God, why would you ask that?” Bucky was exasperated. What would he even say to that? Why would his little sister ask him that? He settled on the truth: “No, we haven’t gone that far yet.”

Bucky shook his head. “Anyways, I came in here to tell you that I’m fine and that I’m going out to look for a job.”

“Alright, are you going to be home for lunch?”

“I think I’m going to lay low and avoid Dad for a few days; I’ll pack myself something.”

Rose waved him away and lay back down. The conversation was clearly over, and Bucky crossed the hallway to his room and got dressed. He put on his nice pants and a good, clean shirt. He was going job hunting, and he needed to look nice.

Hours later, after asking every shop owner and factory manager for a job, he was ready to call it quits. He heard some guys yelling and a boat horn sound and turned to look at the water. Below the street, near the water, he saw a barge docking and men unloading crates and working on other boats.

He shrugged to himself; he could do some hard work. Forty-five minutes later Bucky walked off the dock with a job starting Monday and a renewed spirit.

Chapter Text

June 12th, 1934

It’s hot and humid, and Bucky is in love, and he’s never felt so good in his life.

Hours before, Bucky and Steve had been sitting twined together on the couch in front of the box fan Steve had. It was the peak of the summer heat in New York, and they were just about stripped down to nothing in an attempt to stay cool.

“Hey, let’s go out tonight; I think it’ll be cooler once the sun sets.” Bucky suggests. He had the day off today and wanted to go out. He missed being free all the time to take girls out dancing or to spend time with Steve. He loved spending time with Steve. He loved kissing Steve and holding onto him and talking to him. He loved when Steve asked him to sit for a drawing and loved even more when Steve finished and placed kisses all over Bucky. He missed being with Steve every day after school and all day during the summer because he was now steadily working at the docks.

He didn’t mind the work, and his family needed the money to stay afloat. His dad had been in and out of jobs and still hasn’t found one that’s stuck. Today was one of the days he got off, and he intended to use it to its fullest. He didn’t want to think about not going to school next year or telling Steve his decision. His family needed the money, and he was going to work full time.

“Baby, let’s go out.” he insisted

“It’s so hot, Buck, and I hate dancing,” the blonde complained.

“Honey, I already set up a date.” Bucky said, almost apologetically. He wasn’t sorry.

Bucky had met this girl yesterday, and they hit it off instantly. She wore her hair in a short, messy bob that looked effortless and gorgeous. Bucky had winked at her on his way home, and she stopped him. They talked, leaning against the cool brick of the building in the shade. She asked him where he was off to; he asked her how she did her hair. She just graduated and was looking for a good time before she left for school. Bucky smiled his trademark smile and asked if she was a friend of Dorothy’s.

She was. And so their elaborate plan began.

Bucky could tell her about Steve, and she could tell him about her girl. Bucky went on and on about his best guy, about how Steve just hated dancing and he could never really get girls to go out with him even once for a dance. He always felt bad letting them down, but he was in love with Steve, and Bucky really couldn’t let a girl waste her time on him.

They hatched a plan. A double date plan.

Priscilla, Bucky learned, was his faux date’s name, and she told him about her girl. She had scoliosis that hurt bad, and dancing was just out of the picture for her. She still liked to watch her girl dance, but it wasn’t the same alone in their room. Bucky knew the feeling.

So, they decided tomorrow around 8 they would go out dancing. They would meet at the dance hall and bring along their dates, and while Bucky and Priscilla would dance, their dates would watch and talk. It was so much better than going out alone or picking up just anyone, and Bucky got to share the night with Steve without anyone getting too worried about just the two of them.

Besides, Steve was weak for Bucky; it wouldn’t take too much convincing.

Bucky carried on about going out and wore Steve down enough to agree. They spent the rest of the day just lazing around, just how Bucky liked. Steve drew and Bucky read, and they kissed, and then they got ready to go. They ate a quick little dinner and were out the door at 7:45 sharp.

They walked and talked about nothing much. When they arrived, Priscilla and Felicity were waiting for them at a table inside.

“Hiya, girls,” he said as he winked at Priscilla.

“Hey Bucky,” she says as they both lean in for a kiss on the cheek.

Steve stands awkwardly to the side as Bucky moves to introduce himself to Felicity. They talk with ease, and Bucky puts his arm around Steve and pulls him into the conversation. After that, the four of them make small talk with each other, introducing their dates.

Shortly after they’ve settled into their booth, Bucky hops up to start dancing.

“Ladies, this night won’t start itself,” and offers his hand to Priscilla. She winks at Felicity as he leads her to the dance floor.

Steve and Felicity are left alone while Bucky and Priscilla make it to the center of the dance floor. Bucky loved being among all the other couples dancing and just having a good time. The people were loud, and the music was louder. They jitterbugged, lindy hopped, and did the big apple.

Bucky had the time of his life. He could forget about all the things going on in his life and focus on living in the moment. He didn’t have to think about work or his dad or quitting school. None of it mattered here on the creaky boards of the dance floor under the soft lights.

They danced for hours, intermittently going back to the table to sit with their dates.

When the night turns into morning and the dancehall is starting to clear out and Steve is asleep on Bucky’s shoulder, the group decides to go their separate ways. Bucky lifts Steve up with a practiced ease and says his goodbyes to the couple. He walks home with Steve’s arm hanging over his back and his head pressed into Bucky’s shoulder.

When he gets to Steve’s apartment, he unlocks the door with as much grace as he can while attempting to not disturb his sweet boyfriend. As he opens the door, he spots Sarah sitting on the couch, and she smiles at him. Her boys are finally home.

“Hey Missus Rogers,” Bucky whispers, “I’ll just put Steve in his room, and I’ll be on my way.”

"What kept you two out so late?”

“Double date and dancing. Steve finally agreed!” He whisper-celebrated with Sarah.

Chapter Text

July 4th, 1934

Celebrating Steve’s birthday was one of Bucky’s favorite days of the year. He liked going to Steve’s house and taking him out for something special. He liked that the whole world was alight with celebration because to him, Steve deserved it.

This birthday, however, was a little different from the others. This was the first birthday Steve and Bucky were going to spend as a couple. Bucky couldn’t be more excited. He was antsy with anticipation to start the day.

He got up at six that morning and was busy getting himself dressed and nice looking for his boyfriend. Today was going to be a good day and Bucky couldn’t wait to get it started. He threw off his covers and went to his closet to pick out his nicest outfit. Well, maybe not his nicest outfit, but something Steve would like.

After he got dressed Bucky made his way downstairs as quietly as possible. He was a man on a mission today and that mission was birthday cake.

Bucky had been slowly collecting all the ingredients he would need for a small birthday cake for Steve. He got out everything he needed and flipped through his Ma’s old cookbook to find the recipe he wanted.

When he slid the pan into the oven, Bucky turned to clean up his mess and make some breakfast for himself. Rose came down to the kitchen as he was washing up the bowl he’d used. He heard her footsteps as they approached and felt her hand on his back.

“Goodmorning”

“Hey, goodmorning”

“What smells so good in here? Are you baking?” Rose teased as she hopped up on the counter.

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face to match his sister’s. Her nose wrinkled just like Bucky’s did when he smiled and they both laughed at each other.

“I’m making Steve a birthday cake, you goof,” Bucky shrugged, “what do you want for breakfast?”

“Did you buy eggs?”

“Yeah, why”

“French toast”

“What?”

“Bucky, I want french toast”

“Rose, you genius! I can’t remember the last time I had french toast.”

Bucky mixed up some eggs and milk and Rose turned on the raido. She fished the grittle out of a cabinet and they danced around each other in the kitchen. Rose turned the stove on for Bucky and he started putting the egg-soaked bread on the grittle. The smell of cinnamon filled the kitchen.

Rose inhaled a long breath, “wow, I don’t remember the last time I smelled something so sweet in our kitchen.”

“I know, feels like forever ago when we used to do this with Ma.” Bucky sighed.

“Do you remember when she and dad ended up covered in flour that one Christmas? When they were cooking and playing while we opened our gifts?”

Bucky laughed, “I swear I turned around and thought I saw a ghost!”

Rose laughed at him and shook her head. Her brother was an idiot.

“That was such a good Christmas. We went to see the tree lighting for the first time and we skated for hours” Rose reminisced. “And you fell over and cried!”

“I did not!” Bucky gasps, smacking Rose on the arm.

“You so did! I remember because I made fun of you and Ma told me to knock it off.”

“Yeah, at least someone cared! You obviously haven’t changed.”

“Oh come on, you loved it until you fell. And Ma got you hot cocoa so,” Rose shrugged as she smiled at Bucky.

Bucky conceded, “That was a lot of fun.”

Bucky flipped the french toast and Rose went to get plates out. They talked more as they were waiting for the first pieces to be ready.

“Oh, Rose, we should get the girls up.”

“You know they’re probably already up just playing in their room”

“Yeah, but go get them and tell them we made french toast for breakfast. I’ll wait for the next ones and they can have these, they’re about done.”

Rose went up to gather the younger girls and Bucky used the spatula to flip the french toast onto the waiting plates. Violet and Dahlia dashed into the kitchen and climbed up onto the island stools. Rose brought them each a plate and fork. Bucky smiled as they chattered about the french toast.

Rose leaned against the counter as Bucky started on the next few pieces.

“Hey, what are you doing today?”

“Um, I was gonna go over to Steve’s house for his birthday. Why?”

“I dunno, just figuring out what I want to do with the girls today.”

“Why don’t you come with? We’re not doing much, I was gonna take Steve out to dinner.”

“No, no I don’t want to take over your date.”

“Rose, Steve loves you guys, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. And it’s not a date. Really, it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? He won’t mind?”

“As long as we can watch the fireworks, I’m sure he won’t”

After breakfast, the girls went to get dressed and Bucky bounced between the two rooms. Rose asked him which dress he liked between a nice blue one and a cute yellow one.

“What am I supposed to even wear to my big brother’s boyfriend’s birthday that we’re crashing?”

“Rose, seriously, I’m sure Steve won’t mind,” a pause, “I like the blue one.”

“Alright, now scoot I need to change.”

Bucky’s pushed out of the room and he goes to the girls’ room. As expected, they’re not even close to being dressed, still in their pajamas. Bucky helps them pick out outfits and soon he’s braiding Dahlia’s hair. She won the rock-paper-scissors against Violet so she got to go first. Bucky chuckled as Violet tried to do her own hair. She was still getting the hang of braiding but Bucky encouraged her to keep practicing.

When he was done with the second braid, Dahlia handed him the small elastic to secure her hair. As she got up and skipped over to Rose’s room, Violet sat down on the bed for Bucky to do her hair.

“Okay, one braid or two, sweetheart?”

“I don’t really want to match with Dahlia today so can you do one french braid?”

“Of course I can.”

When her braid was done, Bucky secured it and Violet produced a purple ribbon for him to put in at the end.

“Where did you even have this?”

She cranes her neck to look back at him, “I was holding it the whole time, you just didn’t notice,” she said incrediously.

The attitude on these kids, Bucky thought. Nevertheless, he tied the ribbon into Violet’s hair and sent her on her way downstairs to put her shoes on. He stepped into Rose’s room again as she finished pushing bobby pins into her hair. She had it done up nice today and Bucky smiled at her from the reflection in the mirror.

“Ready to go?”

They stepped out onto the street not long after and started the short walk over to Steve’s apartment. Bucky had wrapped up the last few pieces of french toast to take with. He handed them off to Rose as he grabbed the cake. Soon, they were at the door and Dahlia was knocking like a madman.

“That’s enough Dahlia, they definitely know we’re here now.” Rose winced.

Steve opened the door and smiled at the small crowd gathered at his door.

“Hi, Steve, happy birthday!” Dahlia beamed.

“Thanks, Dahlia. Come in,” he stepped out of the way and the girls went in each wishing Steve a happy birthday.

“Happy birthday, doll,” Bucky said as he followed the girls in.

He eyed Steve up and down and after he shut the door, Bucky pulled him into a hug with the arm that wasn’t carrying the cake. He kissed Steve on the cheek then released him. He moved over to the counter to put the cake down and took the french toast from Rose.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet? Is your Ma home today?”

Before Steve could really answer, Bucky had unwrapped the newspapers from around the plate and handed it to Steve. He just stood there for a moment with it in his hands.

“Sorry I brought the girls with me but I figured you wouldn’t mind. They always love seeing ya’ and I just thought we would go out have some fun, huh Steve?”

Steve nodded. He didn’t expect anything special for his birthday but here Bucky was with his family and his birthday cake and his perfect smile and extra french toast. Steve bit his lip and looked up at Bucky. He smiled and Steve smiled back.

“Buck, you didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“Well, the french toast was for Rose, you just got leftovers.” Bucky chuckled.

“Alright, jerk.” Steve joked, “but it’s my birthday so I get to pick what we do.”

“How about I pick what we do, because I have the best taste?” Violet announced.

Dahlia argued, “No, I want to pick! You always pick boring stuff!”

“We’re letting Steve pick because it’s his birthday, remember?” Bucky said with finality. Steve just laughed as the girls groaned in agreement. Bucky put his arm around Steve’s wasit as the girls kept arguing about who was better at choosing activities.

“But, I do already have an idea in mind of what we could do today,” Bucky said to Steve in a low tone, close to his ear.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“Nothin’ we’re just thinking about the plan for today.” Bucky shrugged.

Rose’s eyebrow shot up, “right.”

They left shortly after that. The little girls walked infront as Bucky, Rose, and Steve walked together behind them. Bucky had his arm around Steve and held Rose’s hand and they chatted on their way to their destination.

When they got to the Court St. stop, Steve knew it was trouble. Bucky handed out tickets and they got on the train headed down to Coney Island. It was one of Steve’s favoirte places to go but he didn’t very often anymore because he kept getting sick and medicine was more and more expensive. This was a treat nowadays and Bucky sure knew how to treat his guy.

The train ride wasn’t long but it was crowded with people going all over town for the holiday. The train car was loud and Bucky took the opportunity to whisper to Steve.

“I’m gonna make this birthday real special, doll. I’m gonna kiss you all over and you’re going to see two sets of fireworks.”

Steve turned red at the thought and Bucky just smiled his trademark smile.

“Bucky, I mean this with all the love in my heart, shut the fuck up.”

He just kept on smiling. Bucky glanced at Rose like he didn’t just make his boyfriend blush and tilted his head, signalling the next stop was theirs. When they arrived at the station they found their way off the train and to the island.

They spent a few hours dicking around with games and rides. They saw a drag show and did a mirror maze and Bucky almost convinced everyone to go swimming. It was fun but the people started to get overwhelming and everyone packed in together didn’t help with the heat of the day. Bucky suggested they start heading home and they caught the train back to Brooklyn Heights. There, Rose and the girls decided to call it a day early while Steve and Bucky went back to his.

“Do you know when your Ma’s gonna be home? Don’t want to be the only one singing to ya.”

“She should be home before dinner but you never know; a double might open up.”

They plopped down on the couch as soon as they got home. They stayed there for a beat until Bucky glanced over at Steve, who was already staring. Bucky pushed himself up and settled himself on top of Steve. He brought their lips together in a lazy kiss and Bucky ran his hands through Steve’s hair. His lips were hot against Bucky’s and he melted into it. Steve brought his hands up to Bucky’s back and pulled him closer.

Bucky feels dizzy as his dick gets hard. The room sways and goes fuzzy. He can feel Steve below him too. He grinds down experimentally and is rewarded with pleasure like he’s never felt before. He does it again and Steve groans under him and his hands tighten around Bucky’s back. Bucky pulls away from the kiss and pants into Steve’s mouth. When did it get so hot in here?

“Oh my God, Steve,” Bucky huffed out, “Steve, I love you.”

He kept pressing his hips back down onto Steve’s like he was addicted. He could feel Steve hard underneath him and wheezing. He met Bucky’s own movements with his hips and another wave of pleasure wracked his body. It was intense, like anything he’d ever felt before. He went still then fell limp on Steve. Sure, he’d come by himself a handful of times but never like this. All he could do was let out an embarrassing little moan as he came down from the high.

Steve was frozen under him but dropped his hands from his shoulders to hang loosely around his hips.

“Steve, I think I just came in my pants.” Bucky murmured. His face between the couch and Steve’s small shoulder.

“Um - uh yeah you did Buck,” Steve studdered out.

“Can we stay here for a bit? Ugh Steve, that was so good.”

Bucky slowly retuned to his body and his legs went fuzzy from the awkward position perched atop Steve. He slowly moved his legs which popped at the knees and got off of Steve.

Steve’s eyes traveled to the join of his pants as he got up and Bucky blushed.

“Hold on Buck, I think I’ve got a new pair of pants for you doll.”

He stood up from his place on the couch and came face to face with Bucky. Well, more like face to chest. He rose up on his tiptoes and pulled Bucky down for a kiss before taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom. There, Steve rummaged around in his dresser for a moment before producing a pair of Bucky’s pants he hadn’t seen in a few months.

“Where did you get those?”

“You left ‘em here a while ago. I think it was that night we had a sleepover.”

Bucky stripped off the pants that were wet with his come and wiped himself off before putting the new ones on.

“Do you - uh,” Bucky hesitates, “do you want help with that?” and gestures to Steve’s obvious hard on.

Steve’s breath catches and for a second Bucky thinks he’s going to have an asthma attack. But then he sucks in a breath and his eyes meet Bucky’s, he nods. It’s just the smallest nod but Bucky sees it and he moves in closer to Steve. He leans down as Steve tilts his head up to press their lips together. Bucky breaks the kiss and places sloppy wet kisses on Steve’s neck while he threads his hands through Bucky’s hair. It’s short but there’s just enough to grab in his nimble fingers.

Bucky separates from Steve again and he whines at the loss of contact. He likes feeling Bucky against him but the feeling isn’t gone for long. Bucky kneels on the creaky floorboards before Steve and looks up at him. His eyes never waver from Steve’s and he looks reverant. Steve thinks this must be what it feels like to be a saint. He nods to Bucky and his hands move to his beltbuckle.

As Bucky undoes his pants, Steve puts a hand back in Bucky’s hair and the other steadying himself on Bucky’s shoulder. When his slacks fall to the floor and all thats left covering Steve is his underwear, Bucky looks up through his eyelashes as Steve again. He’s asking for permission. Again, Steve nods and Bucky takes his time eying up his boyfriend as he slides his hands up Steve’s legs starting at his ankles.

Bucky feels strangely calm. He’d thought about his first time with Steve countless times but never imagined he would feel so at ease. He figured he’d be worked up but now that the moment was here, Bucky wanted to live in the moment. He was on his knees in Steve’s little bedroom and he wouldn’t change a thing.

When his fingers brushed fabric he hooked his fingers and dragged it down. Steve’s hard penis almost hit him in the face and Bucky froze for a moment. He’d never gone this far with anyone and now that he was here, he was sure he would mess it up.

Steve shifted and brought Bucky out of his trance. Bucky swallowed hard and brought one hand up to touch Steve. He let out a shaky breath. Steve’s grip on his shoulder tightened and Bucky brought his mouth to the tip of his cock. He licked the tip then closed his lips around the head of Steve’s cock. Steve moaned above him.

That was all the encouragement Bucky needed to keep this little experiment going. He rubbed his tongue on the underside of Steve’s cock and kept moving forward to take more of it into his mouth. It was a strange feeling and Bucky wasn’t sure he liked it. He wasn’t sure he didn’t like it either, it was all just new.

Steve was moving his hips ever so slightly and Bucky tried to encourage him by putting his hands on the small of Steve’s back and pulling him in. Bucky could feel the tip against the back of his throat as his nose connected with the sparse blonde hair of Steve’s groin. Steve rocked his hips more and Bucky swallowed around his cock.

Steve let out a load moan then and started moving his hips faster. Bucky felt the gag before he could process it and he made a gurgling sound. Steve looked worried and pushed Bucky’s head back until he came off his cock with a bit of drool connecting them.

Bucky moaned, “Steve, I’m fine. Ugh it was my gag reflex,” he moved to continue but Steve stopped him.

“Bucky I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Steve, I swear to God, baby you’re hurting me right now by not letting me finish.”

And with that Bucky’s mouth was back on Steve’s cock like it had never left. Now, he approached with more confidence than before and took Steve’s cock all the way down to his balls first try. Steve’s hands flew to Bucky’s hair and pulled and tugged until Steve was effectively just using Bucky’s face. There were tears forming in Bucky’s eyes from the effort and spit leaking from the corners of his mouth but hearing Steve make his needly little sounds made it all worth it.

Steve’s movements got faster and a little rougher as he went and Bucky just held on. Moments later Steve was spilling down Bucky’s throat as his hips stuttered to a halt. Bucky tried his best to swallow it all but some come leaked out from the sides to his lips.

“Oh, my God. Bucky,” Steve whispered, “Oh, my God.”

Bucky slowly let Steve’s dick out of his mouth and liked his lips. He wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up. His legs ached but it was all worth it when Steve hauled him in for a deep kiss. Steve’s tongue roved over his mouth and Bucky thought about Steve tasting himself. His moan was muffled by the kiss but too soon, Steve pulled back.

Bucky chased his lips but Steve was huffing and his chest rose and fell with the effort of breathing. They pause for a beat as Steve continues to struggle for breath. Usually, it only takes him a moment but this was a little too long for confort.

“Do you need your inhaler? Or a cig?”

Steve shook his head no, Bucky raised an eyebrow, then a nod yes. Bucky rolled his eyes and grabbed Steves inhaler from the bathroom counter and handed it off to him. He took deep breaths in as his lungs opened up and his breathing went back to normal. Or, as normal as Steve’s breathing could be.

“Did I set of an asthma attack by suckin’ your cock so good?”

Steve just rolled his eyes and zipped up his pants.

“Hey, happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

They make dinner after that. There’s not much in the kitchen but they work with what they have and set aside a plate for Sarah when she gets home. They eat and sneak glances at each other from across the table. When they’re done the sky is awash with bright oranges and pinks. The sun pushes its way in through the blinds of the apartment and Bucky turns the radio on.

Bing Corsby is on and Bucky pulls Steve out of his chair and wraps him up in his arms. Steve fights for a moment before giving in and laying his head against Bucky’s chest. He sways with the music and runs his hands up and down Steve’s back. They don’t speak for a few songs and they just bask in each others’ company.

Bucky’s lost in his own world when the telling crack of the first fireworks are fired off somewhere in the distance. Steve jolts in his amrs and pushes away from Bucky.

“Let’s go! Get your shoes on Buck!”

“Jesus, Steve, you’re not going to miss the whole show. It just started.”

“I don’t care Bucky!” Steve complains and he pulls on his shoes. “Hurry up!”

“Okay, okay. Keep your pants on.”

They make it to the roof in record time. Steve scrambled up the fire escape with Bucky behind him with blankets in both arms. They lay out one of the blankets on the side of the roof and Bucky retreats downstairs to make a bag of popcorn. He finds Steve right where he left him and plops down beside him.

“I put a note on the table telling your ma we’re up here. You better not fall off.”

“Alright, sure. Whatever you say pal.”

They watch the fireworks and as it gets colder Bucky wraps the second blanket around them and pulls Steve in close. Bucky eats most of the popcorn and Steve does most of the talking. It might not have been Bucky’s birthday but it was a good one.

Chapter Text

July 11th, 1934

Bucky leaned up against the cool brick wall outside the theater. He was meeting Steve after work. People walk past him, and every once in a while he glances in the direction of Steve’s apartment.

And that’s when he heard it. There was a commotion, and it was getting louder by the second, and Bucky just knew it was Steve. A moment later he was proven right when two angry bodies were shoved out of the theater by an equally disgruntled security guard.

“And stay out, ya hear!”

“We don’t want your kind here anyways.”

“Say that again!”

Steve threw himself onto the other man and landed a good punch on his nose. The man lurched but regained his balance and threw a punch that landed square on Steve’s jaw.

Just as Steve was about to launch himself into a full assault, Bucky got in between them.

“Hey, will you cut it out!” he bellowed.

He tried to make himself as big as possible in an attempt to ward off the other man. No such luck. He swung, and Bucky dodged and sunk his elbow into the other man’s sternum. He stumbled back, and Steve tried to get around Bucky. He put his arm out to hold Steve back while the other man wiped blood from his nose.

He scowled, “Just because you’ve got some guy protecting you don’t mean you’re welcome here.” He spat at the ground where Bucky stood and started walking away. Steve looked ready to bolt if Bucky wasn’t holding onto him with a vise grip.

“Yeah, well, at least I earned my place here! You’re just lucky enough to be born here, asshole!”

“Steve, calm down, Jesus, he’s gone.”

Steve was not calm. “Bucky, he just told these kids they couldn’t be in the theater because of their accent.”

“Okay, but now he’s gone. Let’s just forget about it.”

“I can’t just forget about it. He was trying to shove them out of the theater.”

“Right, and you stepped in and told him off, and then you both got yourselves thrown out. Right?” Steve nodded. “Right. Okay, can we go watch the picture now?”

“Bucky, why doesn’t this stuff bug you?”

“It does, but, by the looks of it, you’ve got it covered.” he shrugged. “Besides, getting you out of the fight is more important to me than getting into one. Now, let’s go.”

Bucky swung his arm around Steve’s shoulders and steered him into the theater and away from the guard. They sat down in one of the last aisles with open seats and soon the picture started. It was a new movie and Bucky had a bit of a crush on Fred Astaire. The Gay Divorce was a musical and Steve was really just there to be with Bucky more than to watch the movie.

Bucky loved it, though. He liked the dancing and the singing and the costumes and the music. He liked seeing something so glitzy and wished he could be there; he wished he could live in that world. How nice it would be to afford nice things for his family and for Steve. It didn’t hurt that Fred Astaire was the leading man. He could dance circles around everyone, and the girl, Ginger Rogers—what a pairing! They were incredible.

When the movie ended and they walked home, Bucky brought up the fight.

“Why can’t you just let things go, Steve? Couldn’t you just say your piece and shut up?”

“Bucky, no! I’m not looking for a fight; I just don’t let people get away with things they shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, but it always ends up that way. I just wish you’d be more careful.”

“I can’t just not do anything! “You’re just like them, Bucky, wantin’ me to keep quiet!” he said accusatorily.

Bucky stopped on the sidewalk and turned to Steve. “No, that’s not what I meant, and you know it, Steve. I just wish you wouldn’t go around getting in fights you don’t have to.”

“I’ll get in as many fights as I want, thank you very much! And I’ll keep doing it until people get right in the head.”

“You know you can’t change everyone’s minds, right, Steve?”

Steve huffed, “Yeah, I know.”

He threw his hands up and was about to continue when Bucky cut him off.

“Alright, hey, I’m sorry.” Bucky offered, “I know you’re just tryna look out for everyone.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“And you’re doin' a good job; I just wish it didn’t always come at your expense.”

“Buck, I’m more than happy to get a few bruises and cuts if it means they think twice about being an asshat.”

Bucky drew in a long breath and shook his head. When was Steve ever going to get it though his thick head that things didn’t always have to end in a fight?

“Alright, let’s just go home.”

The walk home was filled with petty bickering over whether Bucky liked Steve or Fred Astaire better and how they can still make movies like that but we’re running out of everything on the daily.

Chapter Text

August, 1934

“I’m not going to school anymore.”

“What?”

“I can’t go to school—” Steve cut him off.

“Bucky, I know what you said. Why? You love school; you’re going to go to college and get a degree and have a fancy job.”

“Yeah, well, now I can’t. You know my pa still hasn’t found enough work, so I gotta go full time.”

“Bucky, but this is your future. What are you going to do? You can’t work at the docks forever. You’re meant for so much more than that. I -”

“Steve, my future doesn’t matter no more alright.” Bucky tried to keep his voice even. “The girls are a lot more important to me than my future; I don’t want them to need anything. It’s hard enough trying to find decent things; I want them to be able to afford them when we can.”

“But that doesn’t mean that you don’t matter.”

“That’s exactly what it means, Steve. Who knows what I’ll ever be good for, but the girls, I want them to be educated, I want them to be taken care of.”

“Right, and you say I’m the only self-sacrificing idiot in this relationship.” Steve smirks.

“Okay, well, if you’re gonna be an ass about it, then I won’t come over after work anymore.”

“Buck, I’d like to see you try,” Steve teases. They both know it would never happen. “So, you’re really not going to school anymore?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’m really not. But hey, less homework for me, right?” Bucky feigns being celebratory. He doesn’t fool either of them, and he knows it. Bucky liked school—no, Bucky loved school—but times were only getting worse, and the girls wouldn’t be able to find any work. Besides, they were too young to have to work.

Rose was working as a seamstress where she could, so the two of them together should have things covered.

When Steve went back to school a few days later, Bucky lost himself in his thoughts at work. He let his mind drift as he thought about what it was like going back and if people would even realize he’s gone.

He was pulled from his thoughts when an older guy knocked Bucky’s shoulder with his own. “Hey, kid, aren’t you supposed to be in school today? My daughter just went back.”

“Nah, not me, Ed. I dropped to work full time.”

“Now why on Earth would you do that? Don’t you got parents for that?”

“Yeah, the one I got can’t work for shit.”

Ed bit his lip and nodded his head slowly. He understood and patted Bucky on the shoulder. They went back to work after that and didn’t talk too much. The fall air kept them cool as they hauled boxes and tied ropes. Bucky was sad to miss school, but he knew it was right; he was providing for his family.

On their lunch break Bucky sat with the other guys as they chatted about just about anything. One guy’s girlfriend had a birthday coming up, and they went around sharing ideas of gifts.

“You could get her flowers,” someone offered.

“How about something that won’t die, genius?” He shot back.

“If your girl likes clothes, you could take her out shopping; my wife loves looking around at all that crap,” another guy chimed in.

“Why don’t you get her a camera? They’re real fancy, and you don’t have to wait to get ‘em developed.” Bucky interjected into the mix of voices.

“Right, I’ll just throw in a new Cadillac too while I’m at it.” The man joked.

“Well, you asked, and no one else has any bright ideas.” Bucky retorted. The men laughed and harped on each other. Bucky smiled and felt himself find a little more home in work than he thought he ever would.

“You know, I’m making a special trip to A.T. Stewart’s and Macy’s if you want any real help.” Bucky offered.

The guys all oohed at Bucky, and one guy slung his arm around Bucky’s, “Shopping for a girl?”

“Yeah, not like that, man. I’m getting a birthday gift for my sister.”

Soon enough lunch was over, and they were all shooed back to work. Bucky wanted to get Rose something nice with the little extra that he made with the long shift he was working today. He stayed until dusk and collected his pay at the end of the week.

When his day off rolled around, Bucky dropped by Steve’s house and carted him off to the store. They looked around Macy’s like men on a mission, and Bucky had to be reminded more than once they didn’t have time to flirt with girls.

Of course they did; Rose’s birthday wasn’t until the 19th, but if Steve got possessive of Bucky talking to all the girls they came across, he would never admit it. So they went around the store searching for something perfect for Rose.

“You know, she had her eye on this one dress, it was,” Bucky pauses, “I think it was pink?”

“Since when do you know anything about fashion?”

“Since I got a little sister who wants a nice dress.” Bucky smirks at Steve and then winks.

They walk down aisle after aisle of dresses and skirts when Bucky spots a girl going through the racks of clothes. “Hi doll,” he reaches a hand out to rest on top of the rack. “Now, where would I find a dress like this, hm?”

The girl perks up at the compliment. “Oh,” she thinks for a moment, “I think I actually got this one here. I’m not sure if they still have it.” She turns from the rack to face Bucky fully. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Well, I’m shopping for my sister, and I just keep looking at that pretty polka dot dress.”

The girl blushes, and she breaks eye contact before bringing her eyes back up to Bucky’s. He loved flirting with girls. Loves giving out compliments and meeting new people. He especially loves when he gets a date or a dance out of it. It’s not that he wants to lead them on, but his boyfriend won’t exactly go out dancing with him.

“I’m not really looking for anything specific, so I can help you look if you want.” She trailed off at the end of her sentence, looking at Bucky expectantly. She twirled her hair as she waited for a reply, and Bucky flashed his best smile and held out his arm for her to take.

Steve rolled his eyes again and shook his head. He sent a silent prayer to anyone listening to put him out of his misery now. Bucky turned and jerked his head to tell Steve to hurry and catch up.

They talked it up with Steve just trailing behind them until they came to the end of an aisle that had a display of trousers. “Look at these! Oh, forget the dress; Rose is getting pants.”

The girl didn’t look pleased and extracted her arm from Bucky’s light grip. “Well,” she said in a stringent tone, “I guess I’ll be on my way then if you’ve found what you’re looking for.”

Bucky paid no mind to her quick exit and instead focused back on the pants hanging in front of him. “Jeez, what’s her problem? It’s like she’s never seen a nice pair of pants before.”

“Yeah, women’s pants.” Steve said, scrubbing his hand over his temples.

“Who cares? It’s not like they were invented yesterday. They’ve been popular for a year or two!”

“Okay, well, is that what you want to get her?” Steve asked, “You’re scrapping the dress?”

“Yes, I am! Look at these; they’re just gorgeous.” Bucky ran his fingers over the deep burgundy fabric. He looked through the sizes and grabbed one and handed it off to Steve, who held his hand out, waiting. He looked at the other pairs too; there was a bright pink pair and a nice dark blue pair. “Which one do ‘ya think she’ll like? I like the red ones.”

“Yeah, I like the red or the blue. This pink is real bright don’t ‘ya think, Buck?”

“Alright, we’re getting these. Now, I need to find a place that does pictures. Like family portraits, you know?”

“I’m not going to be much help there.”

“Alright, well, you can still help me look. Our pictures are so old I don’t even really remember getting them done. Everything like that kind of just,” Bucky felt his throat tighten, “it all kind of just stopped when.”

Steve understood; he didn’t make Bucky finish the sentence, “Yeah, I know, Buck.”

They brought the pair of pants up to the register, and Bucky fished out a coupon from a magazine and hoped it was still valid. Moments later, they walked out from the department store with a gift for Rose and a photoshop recommendation.

“See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Bucky teased.

“Ugh,” Steve complained, “watching you flirt with girls is so annoying. Can’t you ever keep it in your pants, Buck?”

Bucky laughed long and loud. He threw his hands out. “It’s in my pants right now, Steve,” he said in between laughter. Then he got quiet and leaned into Steve, and just as he was about to whip his head away, he heard Bucky whisper, “You know, you could be in my pants.”

“Bucky! Jesus Christ!” Bucky laughed even more. “You’re a degenerate.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“Bucky!”

“I’m not hearing ‘no’!” Bucky wheezes out.

“Yeah, well, you’re not hearing ‘yes’ either, jerk.” Steve spits, although with no real malice behind his words. He speeds up a little bit.

Bucky takes a few big steps to catch up with him. “Aw, come on, you know I’m just joking.” Steve doesn’t look at him, and Bucky smiles even bigger. “Babydoll, please, I’m just playin’ around, that’s all.”

Steve lets Bucky sling his arm around his thin shoulders, and he leans into it. They walk to Bucky’s house this time so they can wrap up Rose’s present and hide it before she gets back with the girls.

“You know I only have eyes for you, right?”

“Yeah, I know Buck.”

Chapter Text

September 19th, 1934

Whether it was late into the night or early in the morning, Bucky wasn’t sure. He and Rose had long bid the girls goodnight and tried to keep quiet as they talked. They sat on Bucky’s rug as they gossiped about what was going on in Rose’s friend group.

“And she called Dorothy a white-livered clack box right to her face!”

“I didn’t think she was much of a gossip.”

“Well, she didn’t used to be. But I think they’ve got something going on because they’ve just been vicious as wolves to each other lately.”

“Gol, what do you think happened?” Bucky asked, raising his eyebrows.

Rose threw up one hand. “I don’t know. Neither of them will talk about it. One day they were thick as thieves, and now they can barely stand each other.”

“Huh, that is weird. What put a bee in their bonnet?”

“I don’t know. It really is strange, though. I don’t know what to make of it.” Rose said as she waved her hand and then dropped it in her lap.

“Okay, I think this one is done,” Bucky said as he let Rose look at her nails. “What do ya think?”

“Perfect!”

They spent hours talking as Bucky finished up painting Rose’s nails, and they only called it a night when they struggled to keep their eyes open. They made sure Rose’s nails were dry, and she snuck across the hall to her room, and they blew a kiss goodnight before they shut their doors.

That morning, Bucky busied himself in the kitchen and tried not to be too loud. He was making French toast for breakfast because it was Rose’s birthday. It was her favorite, and after her excitement last time he made it, he filed it away in his head to make for her birthday. Although he was up late, the excitement propelled him as he worked away.

Before he put the first pieces on the stove, he woke the little girls up and shushed them as they made their way downstairs. They made some pieces and stacked them up all nice on the plate. Violet cut up some strawberries they’d managed to find, and Bucky went back upstairs to collect Rose. He poked his head into Rose’s room, and when he saw her still sleeping in bed, he gently shook her shoulder to wake her.

“Hey, happy birthday.” Bucky whispered with excitement, “I made French toast.”

Rose’s eyes opened wide, and she hugged Bucky as best she could from where he was leaning over the bed. He tries not to fall over, and when he steadies himself, he picks her up and heads downstairs.

“Seriously, you do not need to carry me down the stairs!” She exclaims. Rose scrambles out of Bucky’s arms when they make it to the kitchen, and the girls are giddy to show her her breakfast. “Oh, these look even better than last time!” She hugs the girls as they wish her happy birthday, and they all dig in.

“So, what are we doing today?” Violet said, tilting her head.

“Eating French toast.” Dahlia informed her.

“Yeah, no. What are we doing later?” Violet said matter-of-factly.

“I was planning on spending the day in and working on some hems.” Rose said, just a hint of dejection in her voice.

“Not anymore,” Bucky sing-songed. “We’re going to get new family pictures.”

“Can we dress up?” Dahlia squealed.

Bucky matched her excitement. “Yes, we can!” he exclaimed.

“Were you going to ask me if I wanted to do that?” Rose questioned.

“Who are you kidding? You’ve wanted new pictures for ages.” Bucky said. “And we get to dress up,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and shimmied his shoulders.

Rose tried to bite back a smile and shoved at Bucky. He gasped dramatically and lunged for her. Rose yelped and scrambled out of the way just in time. Bucky slid into the counter, and Rose ran to the other side. They were locked in battle. They locked eyes as Bucky started to move each way around the counter. Rose jumped each time he did until he really took off and caught her off guard. He almost grabbed her when she darted to the other end of the counter again. Bucky stubbed his toe and groaned in pain.

“You’re gonna pay for that one!”

“Yeah, if you can catch me!”

Bucky tried and miserably failed at lunging across the counter to get his sister. The girls howled with laughter as Bucky surrendered. Or so they thought, as Rose came around the counter again to tease her brother.

As she was reaching out to pat him on the back, he grabbed her around the waist. “Bucky! Put me down. I thought that was a truce.”

Bucky shook his head as she tried in vain to get free. “We never said truce.”

“Oh my God!” Rose laughed, “Bucky, get off of me.”

Dahlia jumped up from her chair and jumped on Bucky from behind. She didn’t get too far, but she still managed to cling onto him as Rose egged her on. Violet whooped as Dahlia tried to pry Bucky’s hands apart.

“Get him!” Violet yelled as she scurried across the kitchen to help.

Soon they had dissolved into fits of laughter as the girls good-heartedly pummeled Bucky. He let go of Rose, and the girls cheered. “Okay, let’s go get dressed.” Bucky said, out of breath.

They made their way upstairs and split off to go to their rooms to get dressed. Bucky put on a nice pair of slacks and a white button-up. That’s when he remembered the present. He dug it out of his small dresser and knocked on Rose’s door with the gift in hand.

“What?” She called through the door, “Come in.”

Bucky did. Her hair was halfway up with pins, and the undone part hung past her shoulders in thick, sleek waves. “What do you want?” she asked.

“I almost forgot.” Her eyes traveled to his hands, where he gingerly held a package wrapped in brown paper. “Happy fifteenth birthday.”

He handed her the package from where she sat at her mirrored vanity. Bucky stood behind her as she pulled at the strings wrapped around it. She saw burgundy fabric and met Bucky’s eyes in the mirror. Confusion painted her expression, and Bucky nodded for her to continue. She pulled the pants out from the paper, and as soon as she saw the separation in the fabric, realization dawned on her face.

“Oh my God! Bucky, these are just gorgeous!”

Bucky shrugged, “figured you’d like em,” and with that he went back to his room to tame his hair.

Violet wandered into his room not long after and helped him pick his tie as she plucked the last pins from her hair. As Bucky pulled his socks on, she ran her fingers through the pin curls, and her short bob came to life with style.

“You know, I like this hair,” he said as he got up and offered her a hand. “It’s very modern.” She took it and twirled; her newly bobbed hair bounced with her, and her dress spun out with the movement.

Violet twirled a curl between her fingers as they both looked in the mirror to ensure the finishing touches were in place. “How’s my tie?” Bucky asked as he adjusted his collar one last time. “Good,” Violet approved, “I like the blue.”

When they step out the door, they’re dressed to the nines. Rose is in her new pants with her hair curled up fancy on one side while the rest hangs in long, sleek waves. She looked like a movie star with her sunglasses and painted nails. She should be.

They made their way to the shop and checked in for their appointment. The photographer arranged the Barnes children in a myriad of different poses. In some, they were standing; in others, they sat on a bench, and in some, Bucky sat in the middle while the girls stood around him. There were others with just the girls and a few of Rose by herself. Bucky’s favorite was one where Violet and Dahlia sat on a bench while Rose and Bucky stood behind them.

Chapter Text

October 31st, 1934

“Happy Halloween!”

“You know, we’re not even doing anything this year.”

“I know, but we can still have fun!”

Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky trailed him from the door back to his room. Steve was finishing up his monthly cleaning and was just about done rearranging his belongings. He liked to change up the organization of his room to ‘keep things fresh’ and Bucky just happened to come over while he was in the middle of a burst of cleaning energy.

“Your Ma will be home for the party right?”

“Yeah, probably.” Steve answered.

“Good, I think she’ll like Violet’s costume this year.” Bucky said. “She’s going as a nurse.”

“Alright well what are you doing here then? Shouldn’t you be helping the girls get ready?” Steve asked. “Or getting yourself all pretty for me?” He teased.

“When ain’t I pretty?” Bucky shot back.

“For starters, when you’ve got that shit eating grin on your face.”

“Well, then. Why don’t ya do something about it?”

Steve kissed him hard. He brought his hands to cup Bucky’s face and pulled him in. Bucky’s body bowed to Steve and he put his hands on Steve’s boney hips. Bucky pushed his tongue into Steve’s mouth and Steve sucked at it before releasing it and kissing down his throat. He pulled at Bucky’s polo and before he even got it up over his head, Steve had attached his lips to Bucky’s chest.

Steve loved just like he did everything else: with a fierce passion and unrelenting drive. It shouldn’t surprise Bucky when Steve starts to push him towards the bed and he sits when the backs of his knees hit the bed. Bucky is giddy with the thought of having Steve on top of him and he pulls Steve from the bruise he’s sucking into Bucky’s peck to kiss him on the mouth.

When Steve pulls away, Bucky’s eyes stay closed as he savors the lasting impression of Steve’s lips on his. Then he climbs on top of Bucky to straddle his lap. Bucky’s shirt is rucked up under his arms and sits right across his nipples. Steve tugs it the rest of the way up and off of Bucky. When Bucky moves to do the same to Steve, he notices the small flinch of Steve’s body.

“I’m still just worried you won’t like it.”

“Baby, that’s crazy. If I ever don’t like you, just shoot me.”

Steve smirks but doesn’t return a comment and instead lets Bucky slowly unbutton his shirt. As each button is undone more of Steve’s pale skin shows through and Bucky is going crazy at the sight. When Steve drops his arms to shrug the shirt off, Bucky ogles him for a moment before Steve dives back in for another kiss.

Bucky barely pulled back from the kiss, “of my God, Steve” he murmurs into Steve’s mouth.

“Get on the bed.” Steve whispers.

“I’m on the bed.”

“No,” Steve says fondly, “lay down, get all the way on the bed. God, you’re driving me crazy.”

And Bucky does as he’s told. He scoots himself further onto the bed and Steve follows him on his hands and knees. He hovers above Bucky who’s propped himself up on his elbows. He looks up at Steve and catches the glint of mischief in his eyes.

Steve runs his hands over Bucky’s body. His fingers brush Bucky’s nipples and he leans into the touch and whines when Steve’s hands keep moving. He hovers his hands above Bucky’s belt and he nods, allowing Steve to continue. He undoes Bucky’s belt and the clasp and begins to tug his pants down. Bucky lifts his hips and soon he is completely naked on Steve’s bed.

“Look at you. What a pretty sight Buck.”

Bucky blushes at the compliment and goes red from the embarrassment. He’s nervous to go all the way but he wants to. He wants it with Steve and only with Steve. He feels the bed dip with movement and Steve is retreating back down the bed. He gets off the bed and opens a drawer in his dresser then comes back with a small tube in one hand.

They really are about to go all the way. Bucky is about to lose his virginity for real and he’s shaking with anticipation. Steve gets back on the bed in between Bucky’s legs.

Steve looks at him, “are you okay with this?” Bucky nods. Steve craws back up to reach Bucky’s mouth and he meets him halfway. He pushes himself up and props himself up on one arm while the other cups Steve’s face.

“What do you want to do?” Steve asks.

“Well, what do you want to do?” Bucky echoed. “You’re the one with. What is that? Lube?”

“Yeah well, I only thought we’d want it eventually. I didn’t think too much about where it was going!” Steve admitted.

“I don’t have a preference, if that helps.” Bucky offers.

“I don’t know! I’ve never done this before.” Steve said. Then, in a low voice, “I don’t really want anything in me,” he concedes.

“Okay, then I guess you can stick your fingers in me.”

“Bucky, why are you being so calm about this?”

Bucky shrugged, “I donno, I think I’ll like anything as long as it’s with you.”

“Okay.” Steve breathed out. He kissed Bucky then sat back on his heels in between Bucky’s spread legs. He opened the lid and gathered some oil on his fingers. It was a little chilly so he rubbed it between his fingers for a moment before bringing them to Bucky’s hole. He gasped when Steve’s fingers made contact and Steve froze.

“No, no keep going,” Bucky gulped, “please, keep going.”

Steve rubbed the lube around Bucky’s hole before slowly pushing one finger in. He made it to the first knuckle then pushed a little more to fully fit his finger in. Bucky clenched around the intrusion and Steve put his other hand on Bucky’s thigh in hopes of relaxing him.

He moved his finger around and then began pulling it out. Bucky made a face but Steve kept going. He pushed his pointer finger back inside Bucky and this time was met with a small groan. Steve looked up to check on Bucky and the sight he was met with made his cock twitch in his pants. Bucky had his eyes closed and his head thrown back. His mouth was just slightly open and his eyebrows were knit together in concentration. His chest rose and fell with his breaths and was covered by a thin layer of sweat. He had no idea how delectable he looked and Steve wanted to lick every inch of Bucky’s body.

Instead, he settled for moving his finger in and out of Bucky a few more times before attempting to put another in. Bucky moaned when the second finger breached him and he gripped at the sheets. As Steve began moving both fingers further into Bucky his hands moved from the sheets to the wrought iron headboard. His hips moved on their own accord and Steve tried scissoring his fingers.

The moan that reverberated out of Bucky’ throat was filthy and Steve felt himself go red and the thoughts he was having about Bucky.

He was lost in pleasure. As Steve moved his fingers in and out, Bucky tired moving his hips to push more in. He wanted Steve to keep going, to pick up the pace. He wanted to be fucked. That thought was new but Bucky welcomed the new thoughts and feelings. He liked being open and vulnerable with Steve. He liked that Steve could bring him this pleasure and that the only expectations of him was to be himself.

When Steve added a third finger Bucky knew for sure he enjoyed being fingered. He liked the pressure and the strange feeling of something new. He was nervous neither of them would like it and be stuck with handjobs and blowies for the rest of their lives. But that was not the case. Bucky very much liked this. He liked giving up control to Steve and he liked feeling like he was being taken care of. Besides, Steve liked to be in charge, he like to be pushy and bossy. Bucky was more than happy to continue like this for the rest of his life.

Steve crooked his fingers around and suddenly Bucky felt a jolt and he let out a breathy moan. He did it again and Bucky pushed himself back on Steve’s fingers until he was pulling away. Bucky opened his eyes and found Steve with his pants around his hips and was attempting to kick them off. When he succeeded and rebalanced himself on the bed, Steve met Bucky’s eyes. He leaned over Bucky until their lips collided again and they fell into a rhythm of push and pull with lips and tongue. Steve sucked on Bucky’s bottom lip then playfully bit it. Bucky pulled back and his head fell to the pillow.

Steve’s hand traveled down his own body and fisted his cock a few times. He covered his dick with lube and circled around Bucky’s rim with the head.

Bucky moaned. “Steve, just put it in already!”

Steve shushed him but slowly obliged. His cock wasn’t too much bigger than three or four of his fingers but he still wanted to take it slow so Bucky could get used to the stretch. As soon as the head was fully inside of him, Bucky lolled his head to one side as his eyes flickered shut. He held onto the headboard and hsi body bowed up in pleasure. His hips rocked and he was overcome with the new feeling of having Steve’s cock inside him.

Steve kept going and finally, he flet skin against his hips and Bucky wasted no time in moving his hips up and down. Steve held onto Bucky’s hips and he swiveled them around and watched as he made faces of pure bliss.

“Steve, move.”

And so he did. Steve pulled out slowly before pushing back in slightly faster this time. He was reward with the sweet sound of Bucky’s breathy moan and repeated the motion again. This time, he sped up more and soon he was slowly but surely moving in an out of Bucky.

“Faster.” Bucky moaned.

And so Steve went faster. He felt Steve’s grip on his hips tighten as he began to move faster. His dick brushed against that spot again and Bucky moaned out louder than he had before. Steve tried to angle into that spot over and over again and Bucky keep making little ‘ ah, ah, ah’ sounds along with the movement of their hips.

“Oh my God, Steve, I’m coming!”

Bucky moved on hand down to grab onto his own dick and pumped it a few times while Steve was still busy thrusting into him. He came on himself and Steve stopped as he felt Bucky clench around him. That sent Steve over the edge and he slowly pulled out and all but collapsed on top of Bucky.

Steve chuckled, “that was so good.”

“I know.” Bucky agreed, “I think I’ll sleep until the party.”

He drifted off to sleep as Steve laid on top of him.

–

“Boys!” Sarah called from the kitchen, “Are you home?”

“Shit,” Steve whispered. He shook Bucky awake who looked groggy and still kind of fucked out. “Oh fuck. Bucky we gotta get dressed. Or at least decent.”

Bucky groaned at the light seeping in through the blinds and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“We’re here Ma! Just took a nap, be out in a sec.” Steve called out, “just prying Bucky out of bed!”

Steve rushed to put his underwear back on, swearing like a sailor the entire time.

“Steve, I better not hear you swearing in there!”

“Never, Ma!”

Bucky was still in bed, naked as the day he was born. He was spread out on the bed and the midday light kissed his skin; Steve wanted to do the same. But now was not the time with his mother on the other side of a thin door. “Bucky,” Steve hissed, “get up!”

“Can’t you let a guy sleep?”

“Alright fine, just put some pants on or something. I don’t want my Ma knowing what we’re getting up to.” Steve ordered.

Steve left the room to greet his mother and told her Bucky wanted a little extra sleep. He was excited about the holiday then crashed on the bed after he helped mop. Although it wasn’t totally untrue, Steve had mopped the floors earlier in the morning, he still felt bad lying to his mom.

–

After Steve woke Bucky up an hour or so later, they ventured out to Bucky’s house to collect the girls and help them get into their costumes. Steve was going as a skeleton and had painted on bones to a shirt he made out of an old bedsheet. He had his shirt on and the cheap mask in his hand, the other brushing against Bucky’s every so often.

Bucky was going as a circus clown this year and had to beg Rose to sew him some ruffled sleeves and a collar. The rest he made himself because his sewing skills were no match for Rose’s. Violet was going as a nurse and Dahlia was going as a little mouse. Rose was going as a witch.

They all put their costumes on and headed back towards Steve’s house. The whole neighborhood was getting together out on the street for games and music. They all came dressed in their assortment of homemade halloween costumes and danced and drank into the early hours of the morning.

Bucky missed the old days of halloween where they would run from door to door but getting together like this was something else. He liked dancing with all the girls and being able to be a little more friendly with Steve than usual in public. Halloween was aways a time people bent the rules and so Bucky liked to press kisses to Steve’s cheek or grab him by the hand.

When they approached the beginnings of the crowd for tonight they looked for Sarah.

“There she is!” Violet shouted. She took off like a shot and ran into Sarah’s arms to hug her. She became the closest thing the girls had to a mother and it was her who helped Bucky out with all the girls things he didn’t understand. When Rose was getting close to fourth grade, she had sat Bucky down to give him the talk on girls’ things like a period.

He was ready to help when Rose needed it but she talked to Sarah herself and Bucky guessed it was just something he wouldn’t really understand. He was so thankful Sarah took them in like she did.

“Hi Violet! Are you dressed as a nurse?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, I am!” Violet exclaimed. Sarah beamed at her.

“Sarah, Sarah, look!” Dahlia tried as she spun around in her costume. “I’m a mouse.”

“Yes you are. You all look so good,” she said, proud as ever, “and spooky” she directed at Rose.

Rose smiled and went to hug Sarah. Bucky and Steve followed after. They stood in the street chatting, the girls talked about maing their costumes as Sarah listened diligently.

“You know, I think she wishes she had girls sometimes.” Steve says.

“Nah, I think you’re just what she wants.” Bucky replied.

Steve smiled at Bucky and rolled his eyes. “You’re so soft.”

Bucky grinned, “aw, c’mon. You like it.”

–

Bucky danced in the street, snuck a couple of sips of beer with Steve, and bobbed for apples. The night grew darker and the streetlights turned on to illuminate them in the dark. The music continued even as the festivities dwindled. Soon it was past midnight and the crowd broke up and everyone staggered home on tired feet.

Bucky and the girls said bye to Steve and Sarah and made their way home.

Chapter Text

November 27th, 1934

Bucky’s hands were stiff from the cold as he hauled some of the last boxes onto the pallets. He had gloves on, but the wintery chill still managed to seep into his bones. At least there was no snow yet, he thought to himself as the sun continued to descend. It started to get darker earlier, and Bucky missed the summertime and especially missed school.

When he got off work, he started the walk home and tried to keep all his fingers from the grip of frostbite. He heard laughing when he opened the door, which wasn’t unusual, but one rang out deeper than the rest.

He called out, “Hello, anyone home?”

Dahlia appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later. “Steve’s here!” She sing-songed and moved her shoulders and head from side to side.

“Oh, is he?” Bucky teased back. He took the stairs two at a time and scooped Dahlia into his arms, and she squealed with joy. He walked down the hall with Dahlia slung over his shoulder and found Steve and Violet on the floor of their shared room. Steve had on one of Rose’s headscarves and held a babydoll in his arms. Violet had on one of Bucky’s ties and suit jackets.

“Well, well, well, what is going on in here?” Bucky teased as Violet and Steve turned to the door.

“We’re playing house!” Dahlia chimed from Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m the dog!”

“Alright,” Bucky said, “and who’s this handsome fella wearin my tie?”

“I’m the dad, Bucky. And Steve is the mom.” She clarified, “And Rose is our boring next-door neighbor.”

“Does your next-door neighbor know that one of her headscarves is missing?”

“Yeah, she picked it out and said it’s the only one we can use.” Violet affirmed.

“And then she told us we can have whatever we want out of your room.” Dahlia added.

“Oh, is that right? Who am I supposed to be then?” Bucky asked.

Dahlia shrugged. “I don’t know. You can be the brother, I guess.”

“Or the hot milk man.” Steve suggested. Bucky almost choked on his own spit.

“No, you can be the brother.” Violet concluded, “This is your baby sister.” She said as she pointed to the doll still in Steve’s arms.

“Well, I’m going to walk the dog before I go to work.” Violet announced. Bucky put Dahlia down, and they walked out of the room and around the hall upstairs.

“Hiya, Steve, what are you doin here?” Bucky said, voice sweet.

“I just figured I’d drop by. Feels like I haven’t seen you in ages when I don’t see you every day.” Steve replied.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. Are you stayin long?”

“I’ll stay as long as you let me.” Steve hummed.

Bucky smiled and licked his lips. Steve’s eyes darted from his lips back up to Bucky’s eyes. He leaned forward and pecked Bucky on the lips. Violet came back in the room with Dahlia in tow. “Have you guys been playing right?” The boys look at each other sheepishly. “Oh, yeah. The baby just went down for a nap.” Bucky declared. “What a stubborn little thing.”

They went on like this for a while. Steve pretended to cook dinner, and Bucky held the baby. Dahlia the dog got loose, and they had to employ the help of their next-door neighbor to find her. When actual dinner rolled around, Bucky and Rose made a small meal, and they sat around the dining room table swapping stories of their day like always. The girls went back upstairs as Steve and Bucky did the dishes side by side. Bucky was always in charge of washing and Steve, drying.

“Ain’t your ma gonna worry about where you are?” Bucky asked.

“Nah, I told her I was comin over to spend the night.” Steve answered.

When the dishes were done and the girls were tucked into bed, the boys changed out of their clothes and into their pajamas. Steve brought a pair of sleep pants and a tank top to sleep in. Bucky preferred sleeping in his boxers; even in the cold winter months, he liked the lack of clothes. They climbed into Bucky’s bed and settled themselves under the covers and into each other’s arms.

Bucky laid down, and Steve cuddled up right behind him. He threaded his arm through Bucky’s and let his hand find Bucky’s chest. They stayed still for a moment before Bucky craned his neck back to give Steve a kiss. Steve returned the kiss with more energy, and soon enough they were pressed against each other's chest, fully engrossed in their kiss. It was languid at first, but Steve became bolder and pushed his tongue into Bucky’s mouth, and he would be lying if the bossiness didn’t turn him on a bit.

Steve moved his leg on top of Bucky’s and pressed their dicks together. Bucky bit Steve’s bottom lip to keep from moaning out his name.

Of all the situations Bucky thought he could find himself in, this was never one of them. Steve Rogers was in his bed, in his house, kissing him. His thin fingers wove into Bucky’s short hair as he pressed his hips against Bucky’s.

Reluctantly, Bucky broke the kiss. “Steve, this is such a bad idea.”

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever had a better idea.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” Bucky murmurs into Steve’s mouth.

They barely separated from each other during their exchange, and Steve was back on Bucky in seconds. Instead of kissing Bucky’s lips, Steve trailed his lips down Bucky’s chin to his neck. He sucked a bruise onto his collarbone as Bucky groped at Steve.

Soon, Steve had Bucky convinced they could keep quiet, and Steve was on his knees in between Bucky’s spread legs. Steve had worked two fingers into Bucky. The brunette was sweaty with exertion and lost in pleasure.

“Oh my God. Do that again.” he panted.

Steve crooked his fingers again in search of Bucky’s prostate. When he hit it, Bucky shuddered and gripped the sheets tighter. He rocked his hips and tried to silence the moan that threatened to slip out. Steve bent over him and pressed his lips to Bucky's in an attempt to silence or at least muffle him.

Bucky was loud as Steve ran his fingers over his prostate again and again; God, he was relentless. Bucky’s back curved up as he tried to grind down on Steve’s fingers. He brought his fingers to his mouth to bite down on them as he continued to use Steve’s fingers to get off. And he let him; Steve kneeled on the bed with his fingers in Bucky’s ass and his other hand on Bucky’s thigh, keeping his legs spread.

Bucky bit down on his fingers to keep from moaning Steve’s name but his breaths became shorter as he writhed on the bed. Steve leaned in closer to him and Bucky closed his eyes for a kiss and risked freeing up his mouth. But Steve had other plans.

“That’s right, sugar, take what you need,” he purred into Bucky’s ear, “look at you, doing so good baby.” And with his hand not currently up Bucky’s ass, rubbed up his cock and swiped his thumb over the tip.

That’s what sent Bucky over the edge, and he shuddered from the force of his orgasm. Steve slid his fingers out of Bucky as he was still racked with pleasure and used the remaining slick to bring himself to the edge. Bucky let out a little moan as he came back to himself, and Steve came with Bucky’s kiss-swollen lips on his.