It was 3:27am when Steve Rogers heard a loud knocking on his door. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he made his way and peered through the peep hole. He immediately dropped his phone.
In hindsight, knocking the door of its hinges probably wasn't the most intelligent decision Steve Rogers had ever made, because it seemed to startle his childhood best friend into hyperventilation.
"Bucky?" Steve whispered, looking at the panicking man. He just nodded his head. Steve took note of the man in a T-shirt in the snow. "Okay, c'mon lets get you inside, you look freezing."
Once Bucky was sat inside with a blanket wrapped around him, on a couch in front of the fireplace, tears threatening to fall, Steve took his place on the couch next to him. He kept a distance, as not to frighten the already jumpy soldier who sat beside him. The tension weighed heavy among the room, hanging through the air, threatening to break at a slight movement. What were they meant to say? Hey, we haven't seen each other in a couple decades and I thought you were dead so I left you on the side of a mountain, how have you been?
"Are you real Stevie?" Bucky whispered after 20 minutes of comtemplative silence. Steve's heart broke into a million pieces.
"Yeah, Buck. In the flesh." He said, reaching out a hand to hold his.
"I thought I would never see you again." They kept their voices at a whisper for no apparent reason, other than the fact that it was 3:30 in the morning. Bucky didn't hear anything for a while, and thought that maybe Steve wasn't real, and that this was all a dream, and maybe he'd be awoken by the screams of other inmates being tortured, or the less-than-kind assults of HYDRA guards.
"Oh Buck."
Bucky felt arms wrap him up, and pull his shaking body into their strong chest, Steve's strong chest. The safety made him feel, for the first time in seventy years, safe.
For the first time in seventy years, Bucky felt Steve against him.
For the first time in seventy years, Bucky felt not alone.
For the first time in seventy years Bucky felt human.
And, for the first time in seventy years, Bucky broke. He cried into Steve, then sobbed. And he sobbed into the sobs turned into big, ugly wails of pure despair and sadness, and mourning.
Mourning for a time that was lost, for all the moments and memories with Steve he'd lost, for every life he'd been forced to take, but had taken nontheless. He wailed with guilt and anger, such overwhelming anger that nothing could possibly calm him, and he wailed because he was back in Steve's arms. Beautiful, wonderful Steve and his big pride and blonde hair.
And beautiful, wonderful Steve just let him wail, until his throat dried out and he had no tears left in his body to cry.
"It's okay doll. You're safe here. You're safe with me Buck. I missed you. I missed you so much." He said, when Bucky had finished his crying and was now silently clinging to Steve, hands dug into his back, face buried in his shirt. Once he'd pulled his face away from Steve's shirt, Bucky sat facing Steve. Steve observed his puffy eyes, flushed cheeks and soft lips, and took his right hand to gently cup Bucky's cheek. Bucky leaned into the touch, and softly gravitated towards Steve, almost not believing that his blue-grey eyes were in front of him again. 70 years kinda does something to a man. Steve pulled Bucky into a soft kiss, and Bucky froze for a moment, processing what he was doing, what Steve expected from him, but then felt himself melting into a puddle of mush, whining softly into Steve. Steve's kisses were different to the HYDRA guards, Steve's kisses were gentle, and loving, and compassionate, and for the first time in 70 years, Bucky felt happiness.
But, just as Bucky had learnt, happiness had never lasted him more than a fleeting moment.
"I- I have to go Stevie. It's HYDRA. They're going to find me again and- if they find me, they'll want you." He explained, and grabbed the other mans' cheeks before staring into the blue eyes he'd been missing for so long. His Stevie.
"Buck, please don't go, at least stay the night, please." Tears formed in Steve's eyes. Bucky shook his head, but kept eye contact.
"Stevie, I love you so much. And I really hope we see each other again, but-" Steve cut Bucky off.
"No buts, we have to see each other again. I can't lose you now." Bucky sighed one of those sighs you get when someone doesn't know how to tell you someone has just died.
"But, if we don't, I'll die a happy man because I got to see you one last time." Bucky said, and it was Steve's turn to shed a few tears. For a fleeting moment, they were transported back to their little apartment back in the 40s, Bucky holding Steve as he attempted to take wheezy breaths, praying he would survive winter. He was so glad that wasn't the last he saw of Captain America. No, Steve Rogers. His Stevie.
"Take my little phone number thingy. Hopefully HYDRA taught you how to use these things because I sure didn't learn." Steve said, handing him a card from The Avengers Tower. Bucky looked at it, and chuckled, putting it in his pocket.
"I love you so much Stevie. I'll see you in a minute." Bucky looked up with glassy, lust filled eyes, and pulled his best friend into a kiss he'd been waiting for since the day he'd pulled him out of that alleyway in the 1930s.
"Don't you go dying untill I see you again Bucky." Steve said, pulling away from the kiss and resting his nose against Buck's.
"You're such a punk, d'ya know that?" Bucky whispered, breaking their hold and walking through the door, not looking back because he knew it would break him.
"Jerk." Steve called, watching his best friend take padded footsteps to the car he arrived in.