Chapter 1
Steve notices her towards the end of the funeral. Her blonde hair is tightly bound up in a neat bun, catching the light in a sea of grey, black and white tones. Her outfit is all black except for her bright red lipstick and the bright red flower pinned to her pocket.
It’s the only colour he’s seen since he arrived, it makes him think of another pair of bright red lips pressed tight against his own in the back of a speeding car and he thinks to himself that Peggy would’ve liked it.
They finally bump into each other at the wake, once Steve has managed to dodge all the high ups wanting to shake his hand and ‘express their sincere condolences’.
By bump into each other, of course, means that Sharon has been steadily manoeuvring her way through the throng, like a naval warship parting the reluctant waves, for the past half hour to reach him.
Stopping in front of him, she tilts her head and gives him a slight smile, “Captain.”
He nods, “Neighbour.”
She laughs, loudly, causing those nearby to stare at them and then give them a wide berth. Steve feels his shoulder muscles loosen, her laughter is a breath of fresh air after hours of hearing only the sounds of grief.
By the time things are starting to wrap up they’ve made plans to go for dinner and drinks whenever they’re both next available. Steve has told her that his schedule with missions is unpredictable since the fallout with Hydra but Sharon assures him she can be very ‘flexible' and her accompanying wink makes the tips of his ears turn pink.
It's a long trip home by the the time people have dispersed and security has relaxed enough for him to slip away. The echo of laughter and the ghost of a smile he'd been hanging on to is far from his mind by the time he finally makes it back to the apartment.
Steve's hands feel heavy as he unlocks the door and he has to fight to urge to collapse inside it, a quiet voice greets him from the shadows, “How was it?”
He shrugs, “It was…Big. Everybody who was anybody turned out for the ceremony.”
Bucky moves into the hall light, “How are you holdin’ up?”
Steve shrugs and his movements of hanging up his things slow until he stops moving completely to sag against the doorframe, “Pretty damn lousy Buck. I still can’t…After all this time I still see her…"
“Hey I know, I get it, I know.”
Bucky’s arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, shifting his weight from the doorframe to be supported against him. He’s careful to rest his warm hand against the back of Steve’s neck, “I can still see her too. I remember.”
He registers the warmth of Steve’s breath against his collarbone and feels a shudder run though him, accompanied by a slight sob and a loud sniff, before Steve is moving upright out his hold to clap hand on his metal shoulder, “Thanks…it means a lot to have you here with me, now...after everything.”
Bucky nods and watches Steve walk away towards his room, the words are in his mouth before he can even process them, ‘I’m with you, till the end of the line.”
Steve stops dead and puts a hand up against the wall for a moment, his voice is quiet and heavy with some unidentified emotion when he responds, “Yeah Buck, I know...”
They don’t talk again until the next day.
***
Steve’s only been home from a mission off the coast of Kenya for a day and he’s breaking his post-mission behaviour patterns. It makes Bucky nervous.
Since coming home he’s carefully restructured his life around Steve’s. After carefully cataloguing his behaviour patterns and re-learning how to interact with the world through his interactions with him, it’s disconcerting to have him suddenly deviate from the structure Bucky has come to rely on.
The day after he comes home Steve is supposed to actively seek relaxation, its an interesting paradox that Bucky finds endearing, where he makes sitting down on the couch to read the newspaper look like a contract job. He’ll follow an itinerary of ‘leisure activities’ for the whole day, as a part of the unwinding process his friend Sam Wilson has actively encouraged him to practice.
Today however Steve has been jittery, like he’s anticipating something and Bucky doesn’t know what so he’s on edge. It gets to mid-afternoon before he finally snaps, “Goddamnit Steve you’re pacing around the place like a wild animal trapped in a cage!”
Steve freezes mid-stride and looks at him with startled blue eyes, “Oh…Uh, sorry Buck. Guess I’m just a bit, I don’t know…Wound up…”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah 'why', what are you a fuckin' parrot? You’re makin' me nervous Rogers, you just got home and this isn’t your…You’re not acting right."
Steve gives him an odd look, shakes his head and clears his throat, “I’ve got a date.”
“A date?”
Steve huffs, “Now who's the parrot...yes a date, with Sharon. You remember? My neighbour?”
Bucky’s nose wrinkles, “I remember, the broad who was actually a SHIELD agent?”
Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky's word choice, "Yeah, well we ran into each other at the wake and got talking and I just, I dunno. Thought maybe it was time?”
Bucky bites back the scathing retort that leaps to the tip of his tongue regarding to supposed ‘timing’ of this reunion, “So you’re going out then?”
“Well just dinner and drinks, we agreed that whenever I was home from a mission and she was free we’d try to get together for it.”
Bucky nods and although he thinks he sees something in Steve’s eyes, like he is watching Bucky for his response, they don’t discuss it any further.
However, as the hours pass he finds himself growing more and more desperate, time ticks down, getting closer to Steve’s date. He finds himself in the bathroom staring blankly into the mirror when he see’s it, reflected over behind his shoulder and the idea hits him. The shower.
He hasn’t showered since returning home to live with Steve after an intensive recovery period spent in The Tower, showers having been quickly identified during his recovery as a massive trigger for a panic attack. Something to do with being hosed down with a cold water pressure hose before and after missions and occasionally for punishment.
He can’t believe he’s really going to do this. Is it really so terrible Steve’s going on a date? Then he thinks about holding a tiny 13 year old Steve in his arms while he coughed until his throat bled, about the crease in Steve’s brow when he’s drawing, about the way he still folds his socks like his Ma used too when they were kids, about how his smile lights up the place and then he thinks about how Steve’s voice was the one to call him home from years of absence inside his own head. Yeah, he decides it’s terrible.
With that, he steps into the shower and turns on the water.
He’s not sure when he started screaming, probably around the time the shower had begun filling with steam and the faces of old Hydra agents had started to appear in it. Steve’s voice comes out of the fog, “Bucky, Bucky! It’s me, Steve! Come on buddy I need to calm down…”
Bucky slowly registers that he’s put a hole in the tiles with his metal fist and that he’s lying naked on the shower floor, shaking like poisoned dog. He also notes that Steve is on his knees beside him, his wrist caught in an iron grip in his human hand. Bucky has regained enough of his cognition to be grateful it’s not his metal hand or he might have broken bones.
“What were you doing in the shower Buck? I thought we’d established they were a no go?”
“I know, I just…I thought, it’s been so long. I wanted to try…”
“It’s ok I get it, come here.”
He uses Bucky’s grip on his wrist to pull him in close, ignoring his nakedness to wrap the towel he had in his other hand around him. The words are more of a whimper when they escape from his trembling lips, “Don’t leave me?”
Steve scoots further forward and wraps his arms around him, tight and careful, “Of course I won’t. Shush Buck it’s ok, it’s ok I’m here, I’m not going anywhere…”
Bucky leans into Steve’s chest and tries not to hate himself for the shiver of relieved delight that runs through him.
***
The next time Steve comes in to tell Bucky he’s going out, he’s prepared, “Steve come on! You can’t go! We’ve got a bro night planned for this evening. Wilson is coming, even that Thunder God you’re so fond of.”
“What? Bucky you hate social gatherings?”
Bucky stifles his pride, allowing his brow to crease into what Steve fondly refers to as 'thundercloud formation' and pouts, “It was supposed to be a surprise…”
He tries not to smirk at the way Steve melts at the prospect of a surprise gift intended for him, it’s been his weakness since he was eight years old and Bucky ‘surprised' him with a new drawing pad.
"Ok, well I’ll call Sharon, I’m sure we can re-schedule…”
Inside his head, Bucky does a wild fist-pump.
***
After a mix of impromptu 'bro nights’ organised with the help of Sam Wilson, planned and paid for ‘vacations’ to a little town outside of New York where Bucky and Steve found a pub they loved, and various other methods of date evasion, things return to a reasonable level of normality. This is mainly due to it becoming obvious that Steve and Sharon’s free time doesn’t always align. Steve’s past two rotations home, she hasn’t been available, which lulls Bucky into a sense of false security. An error that is only made possible by his re-adjustment to civilian life.
Which is why he is taken by surprise when he looks up from his book upon hearing Steve abruptly throwing his drawers open. It sounds like he’s in a rush searching for something. He sits up, an odd feeling in his gut making him suspicious, “You lose something in there Rogers?"
Steve answers when he emerges to grab his jacket from the back of the lounge and heads for the hallway, "Sharon’s conference got cancelled, so she’s free tonight. I have another recon in two days, so we’re going to a place nearby before either of our schedules change again."
It’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Bucky has no time to plan, no time for finesse, he has to stop Steve from leaving but he doesn’t know how. He vaults to his feet and races to throw himself in Steve’s path, blocking the door way. Only half aware of how insane he must look, arms spread, eyes wild, “No you can’t! You can't go!”
“What, why?”
“You just can’t!”
Steve’s frowning at him but Bucky can’t let him past, “Her hair’s too blonde Steve! So blonde! You could be mistaken for siblings! It'll be awkward!"
Steve looks incredulous, "Mistaken for siblings? Bucky wha..."
He interrupts Steve's protest frantically, "C'mon Stevie you don’t even like blondes, think about Stark, think about Peggy. Dark hair Steve, dark!"
“Bucky?”
“She wasn’t even your neighbour, she was an agent assigned to watch you!"
“Bucky…”
“It’ll be a relationship based on lies Steve!”
“Bucky!”
He paused, his chest heaving with emotion. Steve slowly moved forward and placed his hands on his shoulders, running his thumb back and forwards gently on the join of metal and flesh, “Talk to me Buck, what is all this about?"
He’s got nothing, all his excuses and arguments have dived for cover in the far recesses of his mind. He tries to speak but he can’t so after a moment of deliberation he just throws himself forward into Steve’s space and presses their lips together in a fierce kiss.
When he moves back, which is not far because Steve has gone catatonic and his hold on Bucky’s shoulders is rigid, he looks for some kind of gauge on how Steve has received this turn of events. The Asset is analysing Steve’s heart and breathing rate, the tension and flickers of movement in his muscles and the emotion dancing in his eyes, trying to anticipate a response.
The information is still being processed when Steve moves, pulling him into a crushing hug. He hides his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck and mumbles his words into his skin, “What took you so damn long Barnes?”
“You knew?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“When I was supposed to be meeting Sharon but 56 pigeons ‘mysteriously' found their way into our apartment and instead we had to spend the next 3 hours getting them out…”
“Oh.”
“Yup.”
“Does Sharon know?”
“I think she has some idea.”
“Why?”
“At the wake, when she suggested going out on a date together, she asked if she’d be stepping on anyones toes.”
“Uh.”
“Mhmm.”
“Punk.”
“Jerk.”
With that Bucky tips Steve’s head back so he can kiss him, sliding his tongue over his lower lip and into his mouth. Steve’s groan sets his blood on fire and things get a little crazy after that.
Crazy enough that the next morning the first thing Steve does is collect all the scraps of torn clothes scattered through the hallway and comes back into his bedroom to dump it all on Bucky's face.
The sound of laughter chases away any lingering grief the past has left behind, and paves the way for a new day.