The First Time
May 20th 1937. 9:58 PM.
"Steve, come on," Bucky takes his friend's hand and pulls him into the crowd. "It's fun," He smiles, then waves to some dame passing by. Steve looks somewhat bored, and like he wants to be at home. To be honest, Bucky kind of wants to leave too, but parties are also kind of his thing. He should probably stick to his guns.
"Buck, let's just go sit," Steve's already walking away.
"Stevie," Bucky groans, but does consider following. But then his friend from work walks by, and then that redhead who walks her dog by their apartment. He should probably keep up appearances, preferably with his best friend in tow.
Bucky turns to retrieve Steve, but a swarm of people has already flooded the space he wandered off into. "Steve?" Bucky shouts. He gets a couple of weird looks, but he doesn't care. "Stevie?" He yells again. The crowd seems to have tripled in size.
"Your kid lost?" Some well-meaning passerby claps him on the shoulder.
"No...well...I mean," Steve's eighteen, not really a kid, but he has the fragility of one. "No, but like- I..." He feels his breathing quicken. The stranger tilts his head, confused.
"There's a police station up the road, I'm sure they could help you," He seems unsure of what to make of Bucky's probably very panicked-looking state in front of him.
"I- no...just, I'll look for him, okay?" Steve can take care of himself. Usually.
Bucky knows he shouldn't be so worried, but he can't help the thought of Steve's broken and battered form from appearing in his brain. He should move. He said he would look. The commands from his head have no effect on his feet though. His eyes begin to water, and pain blooms in his chest. He can't breathe.
"You okay?" Bucky hears the stranger ask. The words just feel like garbled mush in his head. "Uh sir?""
"I-I..." Bucky should probably sit down. He should also probably find Steve. He's just a full-on screw-up, isn't he?
"Buck?" He hears from behind him. It sounds like Steve. Bucky should probably turn around, but he can't bring any of his muscles to move.
"Um, your friend is here," The stranger says. Bucky still doesn't move.
"Bucky? You okay?" Steve appears in front of him.
"I...Steve..." Bucky tries, but the language in his head barely makes it to his mouth. He swallows hard, trying to dislodge whatever's occluding his vocal cords.
"You're really pale," Steve comments, reaching up to touch the back of his hand to Bucky's cheek. "You're all sweaty too," His brow furrows. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah- no...sorry," Bucky forces himself to speak.
"How about we go over here," Steve tugs at his arm, and before Bucky knows it, they're standing in some secluded hallway. "Okay, Buck, you're okay," Steve murmurs.
"Oh my god," Without the choking feeling of a surrounding crowd, Bucky feels much better. Although, he's also flooded with even more thoughts about what could've happened to Steve.
"You wanna tell me what's wrong?" Steve asks, "Cause this is really unlike you."
"I just..." Bucky tries to take a breath, but it gets caught in his chest. "Fuck," He sobs. It catches both him and Steve off guard.
"Buck," Steve says softly. "Did something happen?"
"N-No," Bucky all but screams. "Just..." He wraps Steve in a tight hug. "Stevie."
"It's okay, I'm here," Steve intones. He traces a line with his thumb up and down Bucky's back.
"I-I...you w-were gone and-" Bucky breaks off crying. He can't say any more.
"Ssh, I'm not going anywhere," Steve whispers.
"I l-love you, Stevie," Bucky pulls away and looks him in his blue eyes.
"I love you too," Steve smiles. "Now let's go, okay?"
"Okay," Bucky lets Steve take his hand and lead him to the exit.