Bucky was looking at the screen broadcasting the scene that was happening a few feet from him, farther up the labyrinthine corridors of the big TV studio. He was there for support only. Never agreed to appear too close to Sam in front of the cameras. In front of the world.
He was still the Winter Soldier for most people, even if they had tried to sweep everything under the rug and rehabilitate him as James Barnes. Well, it was the age of internet...
Frankly, it suited him. He was never the big projectors kinda guy. Sure, he loved to charm his way with a little crowd. Heart of the party, that was Bucky Barnes all right. As long as parties were sufficiently far apart. And the people throwing it hadn't a big books collection where he would inevitably lose himself for the entirety of the event.
So, yeah, no. Big speeches and looking good in front of the whole world? That was Steve's thing.
And, right now, he was watching him going at it again.
Steve.
Late thirties looking Steve.
Displaying his best "you disappointed Captain America" demeanor.
Piercing blue eyes, slightly crooked nose - don't get him started on that one - and strong features that never ever changed...
What the hell.
How.
Why.
Bucky was slumped against the wall, heavily sat on the ground where he had been standing, a little bored, some undefined amount of time ago.
The ringing in his ears slowly receded and he began to be able to catch actual words.
"... not Steve Rogers!
- I'm lecturing you on the systemic racism of our society for a good ten minutes and that's all you have to say?
- Answer the damn question!
- I am Steve Rogers. Is that answer enough?
- Why have you abandoned the shield?
- I haven't abandoned it. I have entrusted it to the man better suited to carry it. Ì shouldn't even have to explain this.
- Why don't show yourself sooner then?
- Reception isn't that good on the moon."
He watched Steve wave an old ass phone with an innocent expression that made him want to smack the back of his head against the wall. Some reporters laughed. Others not so much.
"Liar! Steve Rogers is dead! You're some kind of robot created by Stark!"
Steve cocked his head and, God he was about to do something stupid! Bucky was on his feet at the exact time a small rivulet of blood appeared on a pale forearm, following the path of a knife that shouldn't have passed security. Like its stupid self-harming bearer.
Steve, for fucks sake!
"Is that proof enough for you? Anyway, Tony and I aren't in such good terms. Don't read too much fanfictions..."
Bucky stormed out of the room to the sound of renewed laughter and outraged cries.
***
"Explain yourself!"
He shut the door behind him, showing the lock in place with so much force that he might have to use his left arm to tear through it if he ever wanted to get out.
Right now, it was the least thought on his racing and fuming mind.
"I'm pretty sure I already did that in front of the whole country and a pretty big part of the world..."
God he hated this shit-eating smile faking perfect innocence. He missed it so much.
Then it morphed into something more devious. An expression he was sure he never seen out of his hidden dreams.
"Now stop looking at me like that and just kiss me already!"
Bucky sagged a little. Of course. He knew it.
"You're not Steve.
- What are you talking about Buck?
- Don't call me that. There's already one person too many that feels untitled to do it.
- Seriously Buck. What are you playing at?"
The expression was almost right. Open and hurt, puzzled and annoyed. But something was amiss. Something he had perceived already, looking at the spectacle on the screen. That was just not right.
"You're good, I give you that."
A disappointed exhale.
"But?
- I never kissed Steve.
- I'm sorry, what?!"
He wanted to laugh. And cry a little. But tears and laughter were a rarity this days. He pressed his back to the door, arms crossed before his chest.
"I asked first.
- No no no! I demand clarification! I studied a lot! And you have 'I love you, please take me against the first available surface right this instant!' written all over your face when you're looking at him in every fucking picture! Even before the war!"
Bucky shrugged, a bitter smile tugging the corner of his lips. The man wasn't playing anymore and his always shifting expressions were very strange on Steve's honest and genuine face.
"What can I say. Steve was probably the only person on earth to never see that.
- Wasn't the serum supposed to cure every ailment? Like blindness maybe?"
Bucky actually laughed at that. Drained and a little hollow all a sudden.
"Well, no. The serum enhances what's already there. In the case of Steve he had heteronormativity shoved up his ass all the way to his stubborn brain even before the shots, so..."
The man shook his head in clear and complete disbelief.
"Now, that's just sad.
- Thanks. Now who the fuck are you?"
His vision seemed to blur, suddenly. Steve wavering in front of his eyes. Leaking, morphing. A little taller, a lot thinner, longish black hair, iced blue eyes instead of clear sunny ones.
Bucky frowned.
"I know you. You're Loki right?
- I'm a Loki." The guy corrected, bowing teasingly in front of him.
"What, there's more than one of you?
- That's a long story. And not the topic at hand."
Bucky sighed.
"I'm not gonna like the next words out of your mouth...
- You and Steve Rogers never, ever did anything together!" The man threw his hands dramatically in the air and, yep, he didn't like it. "As the God of Bisexuality I can't let that happen! I just can't!"
Heavy and hurried footsteps were closing their way from outside. Well, good luck with that lock people.
"Weren't you the god of mischief or something?
- I'm the God of A Lot Of Things. And don't forget your capital letters, I heard that.
- Whatever."
He was tired. That wasn't new, he was always tired, but somehow he was even more tired than usual.
"Don't fret, poor lovesick human. Your God has it covered!"
And, with that, he was alone in the little storage room, only presence the sudden banging against the door, reverberating along his back.
He closed his eyes, muttering to the void.
"I'm not even bisexual..."
***
"That's not even remotely funny. Even by the god of mischief standards."
Bucky got his attention back to the show playing on his frankly too big TV, making himself comfortable on the cushions spread all over the floor.
He had moved out not so long after his last amend had been made. Getting out of Yori's hair. Letting him process his grief once again.
But he stayed in Brooklyn. Brooklyn was home.
His new flat was small and a lot less barren than the first one. He had let Sam, Sarah and the kids in one day, their arms full of mismatched items - and there's a lot more on the truck so you better move your skinny ass and help us unload, white boy!
He had tried to protest but Sarah had shut him up by saying it was all things that she tried to get out of her house for decades. As an old man you would probably appreciate them, Sam had added with a smug smile.
Well, joke on him, cause Bucky positively loved everything! From the old fashioned patterns of the pile of cushions and multiple bed dressings to the cutlery and plates that could have been his mother's.
The guys had thrown in some of their Funko pops that had made his nerdy heart soar. And he was pretty sure the Lord of the Rings ones were brand new but he didn't say anything.
Except thank you.
Cause his mother raised him well.
They also piled books and comics on every available surfaces. Don't get me started! Half of them are Sam's, he never get his lazy ass to clean them from the house!
The huge flat screen and brand new kitchen equipment came ringing at his doorstep, accompanied by a little awkward but smiling Happy and a lovely note from Pepper. Even a cute drawing by Morgan that had brought a little bit of moist to his eyes.
He really loved kids, sue him.
So, yeah, he was pretty decently stacked.
And he began actually watching and reading stuff with his full heart on it again. It was nice.
Right up until that precise moment.
"What... Buck?! Where... How..." Loki was watching him with summer sky blue eyes, slowly blinking at him and at the whole cosy room. Yeah, not this time buddy.
"Cut the crap already. I didn't fall for it the first time, what makes you think it'll be different the second?"
The puzzled frown tugged at his traitorous heart. The thing should be dead by now, for Christmas sake!
"I honestly don't have a clue what your talking about Buck. Where are we?"
Bucky sighed heavily before stopping the show, not forgetting to switch off the screen. Then he turned fully toward the impersonation of his best friend standing in the middle of his living room. Just where he had popped five minutes ago.
"In my home, but you knew that already.
- How should I know that?!
- Cause you're here, obviously.
- Buck..." There was slight irritation and something like despair in this one godawful syllabus.
"Stop trying okay? Last time I saw Steve he was... well he was old and literally dying." He sighed again, his chest hollow and just that side of painful. "He seemed content, having lived his life and departing peacefully from it. Look, I know you're not exactly a good guy, but I don't read you as mindlessly cruel. So please, let me keep this image okay? That's the only thing allowing me to move on."
Silence fell, heavy with the bucket he just unloaded but at the same time feeling oddly right. Almost comfortable. Almost familiar.
"I... died?" The deep voice was not above a whisper. "Of old age? How..?
- Seriously? We're doing this?" Bucky swept a tired hand across his face. "Time travel, ring a bell?
- Yeah but..." Then the searching stare filled up with horror. "Ho no. Please... Please tell me I didn't come back sixty years later again!"
It was genuine. It hurt. It made Bucky stand up and reply without thinking about it.
"Nah, it's still our good old early twenty-first century, don't get your spandex short in a twist.
- Not funny."
Bucky laughed a little because it was so fucked up. He looked and acted so much like him. It wasn't fair!
"I hadn't heard you laugh in a while." This goddamn earnest blue eyes. "And, hey, you cut your hair back! I like it. Makes you look more... you."
Yeah. No. He wasn't doing this. He was a little sick in his head, granted, but he was done hurting himself.
"Stop it. Just stop it, okay. I don't know if it's a game to you or..." Realization dawned as the only plausible explanation came to his mind. "Is it a twisted way to get into my pants?! You really don't need to play some sick Vulcan mind trick for that, I promise you I'm not that hard to get."
Slow blinks answered him.
"Vulcan... mind trick..?
- Yeah, or Jedi or whatever." Bucky waved a hand dismissively. "Also... being a part of the 'Star Wars is superior' convo might be a deal breaker. I can get behind a lot of things for a good fuck but some opinions are just plain wrong."
The owlish blinks didn't stop.
"I... actually really like Star Wars but..." The confused voice stopped in its tracks, sinful lips hanging open and a full on blush creeping up the stark cheekbones. "Wait a... what d'you mean a good fuck..?"
And that was it. That was the last straw. This stupid, fish-out-of-the-bowl gaping expression when anyone was talking about sex. This shyness that never ever existing outside of that specific topic.
That couldn't be faked.
"Steve..?"
He felt. Yeah he didn't feel so good. His head was spinning and his vision swimming a little.
Was he really about to faint because his stupid dead best friend and even stupider first and last love was a blushing mess in front of any kind of sex related talk?
That was pathetic. But fitting.
Also, did he just come out to Steve?
Yeah. Okay.
"Buck!"
Strong arms engulfed him in an embrace that was a little awkward around the edges. Always. Still. Never getting used to being the taller one.
"Steve."
He clung at an undetermined piece of fabric for dear life, breath coming too short and quick, filled with a scent he hadn't smelled in a lifetime.
"Hey, just breath okay? Let's... Come on, let's sit you down..."
A whizz came out of his tight chest. God he was still so bad at it.
"Buck come on!" He felt his weak body being guided down, held protectively inside trembling arms. "You're scaring me!"
It's okay. Give me some time. You think an ex asthma ridden runt would be well equipped to deal with a little overwhelming attack, uh?
God he loved this idiot so much.
"Buck!"
***
"I can't believe you almost passed out on me!
- You're technically dead, cut a mentally ill best friend some slack, will ya?"
They were sitting on the floor, against the wall of the living room, ass and back pillowed with cushions. An empty glass lay next to Bucky and, at some point, he had wandered to the kitchen and came back with two beers because water definitely wasn't cutting it.
He had inwardly laughed realizing the only variety remaining was the overly sweetened red fruits flavored ones. They were terrible and he really liked them.
Well, he already made his coming out anyway...
You know that's a stereotype right? No one with at least one working taste bud could drink this things, gay, straight or otherwise...
Shut up Sam.
"You're not mentally ill Buck."
He smiled around the rim of his awful beer.
"Yeah, I am. But it's okay. I'm not the only one out there. It's no better or worse than having a physical long lasting illness you know?
- No, I know that, of course, but..."
Steve - actual, physical Steve Rogers for Pete's sake! - frowned with this deep thoughtful expression that made him look like he was ready to fight with his own brain through the whole process.
Bucky couldn't help but smile.
"It's okay, really. Sam find me a real nice therapist - for a change - that had nothing to do with the army or any other shady organization. We're making actuel progress here.
- That's... good. That's really good Buck."
Steve took a swig of his own bottle and the grimace was probably for the most part due to the taste of the beverage.
"Anyway, I'm still not convinced my fucked up mind isn't playing a dirty trick on me right now... So, for the sake of any mental stability I somehow regained in the past months, please explain how on earth you can be here!
- First, I wanna now how on earth you can drink those things?" Steve put down his practically untouched bottle as far of himself as possible, eyeing it with the same disgust he would any greenery presented to him when they were young.
"They're not that bad." Bucky smiled widely while polishing the last drop of his own under a horrified gaze.
"I get back what I was saying. You're obviously sick.
- Told ya. So. Explain. Now."
Steve let out a low sigh and pressed his back against the cushioned wall, eyes wandering toward the ceiling.
"I don't really know? I had returned the last stone safely and I was trying to come back but..." He frowned again. "The equipment wasn't working properly. The... the portal closed and... I couldn't reopen it."
Bucky blinked, overly sweet beer churning in his guts.
"Stop the bullcrap.
- What?" Beautiful blue eyes searched his own, questioning his dry tone.
"You... Steve, you never came back. You... you stayed there, you lived your life with..." He licked his lips, trying to get rid of any bitterness but, hey, he wasn't a saint, far from it. "Peggy. You eventually joined us at the same spot but it was minutes for us and decades for you. Old and wise and ready to give that goddamn frisbee to our favorite birdman...
- What?!"
The actual scream of disbelief made him slightly jump, deadly assassin and all. Then he was staring right up his best friend's eyes, suddenly very close to his own, Steve almost sitting in his lap, strong hands gripping his shoulders, looking extremely upset.
"Buck! No! I'll never!! I..." His sentiments might have been written all over his face, clear as day, because Steve took a sharp inhale of breath, expression collapsing into deep sorrow. "Oh, Buck no... You didn't... Did you really think I had abandoned you on purpose?!"
He smiled. A small, sad, knowing smile.
"But you did, Stevie. You settled with her, had your nice white pickets fence life and everything you always wanted."
Steve shook his head violently, his hold on Bucky's shoulders bordering to painful.
"No! That's a lie! I don't know why you think that but it's not true! It's not true at all Buck!"
Desperation was making his voice cracked slightly. His lovely, deep voice that was always too big for his fragile body, just like his mind.
"You told me. The old you." He closed his eyes tiredly. Why was everything so goddamn tiring this days? "To be fair, you didn't talk to me that much. We speak a little about the shield and agreed that Sam was the obvious choice. Then you went home. Next time I saw you was upon your dying bed. You smiled at me and said everything was okay and you lived a good life." He let out a trembling breath. "And I smiled and said it was good. I was happy to know that. And then you died."
And everything inside him had felt hollow and gray. Not in the Winter Soldier kinda way. More like the Sun setting to never rose up, ever again.
The grip on his shoulders turned into a bone crushing hug, his face suddenly planted against a muscular chest heaving with soul breaking sobs.
He frowned, lifting his arms to envelop the quivering body slumped around his own.
"Hey. No. Why are you the one crying over it, you big doofus?!" He traced comforting patterns along the large back. "You never cry. That's my thing, remember? You just punch things in the face."
He heard a wet laugh and smiled, nestling his face in the crook of a warm neck. It was comfortable. He could get used to it.
"I..." A trembling exhale, a disgusting snuffle. "I really, truly, intended to come back." The wet voice was fierce, confident, every bit Steve. His Steve. "I can't tell you what happened, what this... other, older, whatever, me had experienced. But if he was me? Getting back to you like this, old, dying, after leaving you behind? I... I would be so ashamed. So guilty." Bucky was listening, listless, hands fisted in the back of Steve's shirt. "He... I pushed you away not to hurt you more than I already had, Buck. I must have wanted to... I don't know, break clean? You... you always put my wellbeing above yours so I might... I might have thought it would be easier for you to think I had been happy..?"
Bucky's heart was hammering so hard in his chest he actually feared he was dying. Hey, look at that: fear of dying, that was a new one.
"Well, that was the stupidest thing you ever did. And that's saying a lot."
His own voice cracked, a threatening lump blocking his throat.
"I'm sorry. I'm real sorry Buck."
He nodded, tears burning the corner of his eyes.
That was a little too good to be true.
***
"You still haven't told me how you can be here, y'know..."
He was slumped against Steve who was slumped against the wall. Processing.
"I... I'm not sure... Like I said I was trying to get back and the equipment wasn't functioning and I was stressed and frustrated and then this... guy showed up?
- A guy?
- Yeah, he said he was there to help and that I won't regret it.
- That's not suspicious at all..." Bucky rolled his eyes. "So of course you listened to him.
- What was I supposed to do?!
- Not trust the first guy to turn up, maybe?!
- He got me here didn't he?!"
There was a bit of tensed silence. Then they both broke out into laughter.
"Of course we're arguing one hour after you showed up.
- Typical."
Steve's arms were warm, loosely closed around him. They shared a long silence.
"The guy... He gave me something, just before he shoved me into some kind of golden portal and I ended up in your living room..."
One hand left his stomach and Bucky tried not to pout too much at the loss.
"Here. It's for you."
He frowned, trying to focus his eyes on an envelop showed way too close to his face.
"For BB from TGOB...
- You know what that means? I mean, BB's obvious but...
- No, yeah, I'm afraid I know exactly what that means..."
He sat himself a little more upright, back to Steve's torso, before carefully unsealing the envelop.
What a God promises a God delivers!
We kind of brought down the Time Council and broke the so-called Sacred Timeline already, so you should be clear with this one.
Enjoy!
Signed: Your ever loving God.
Bucky rolled his eyes. Hard.
"Half of it is gibberish but at least I understand how you're here.
- Well good for you... Whose this God? Have you joined a cult while I was away?!"
Bucky snorted.
"He probably wishes, but no.
- Who's he?
- Loki."
A bit of stunned silence.
"Oh. Yeah you did call me Loki earlier..."
Bucky folded the letter and put it back in the envelop while nodding slightly.
"He took your appearance some weeks ago.
- ... Do I wanna know?
- Uh. Honestly it wasn't bad at all. I'll show you, it's all over the internet still."
Steve hid his face in the hand still not back on Bucky's stomach.
"I already hate it."
Bucky patted the arm secured around him with commiseration.
"I cornered him and we... talked a little. I was sure it was him again when you showed up.
- Makes sense." Steve nodded sagely and then froze. Shit.
"Yeah, so, you hungry?! Wanna order a meal for six and watch some dumb TV?" He tried to get up but Steve suddenly secured both his arms around him again, preventing all attempt at escape.
"Buck...
- What?
- You're changing the topic.
- Am not!
- You always propose food when you want to divert my attention.
- For the record: it usually works.
- You're the worst best friend ever, hope you know that.
- Yeah. Very proud of it."
Steve chuckled but didn't let go.
"So. You called me Loki and you... said something about fucking..."
In his defense, he didn't blush as much this time.
"Well, yeah, okay, you got me there: I'm gay."
Steve waved a hand in a little salute without letting go of him, an amused and awkward smile playing on his lips.
"Hi Gay, I'm Bi!"
Bucky... Stared. Wide eyed and kinda uncomfortable in the position they were in.
He took in a sudden and painful inhale when he could remember to breath again.
"Buck..?
- You... what did you just..?"
Steve blinked, then took a hand off him to rub his nape with a sheepish smile.
"Uh, it was meant to be funny? Peter taught me that when we were talking about sexuality and how to break it to people..?
- Peter..?
- Parker. Spiderman?
- Stark Junior's kid, yeah, okay.
- He's a very bright young man, I learned a lot from him.
- Yeah." Bucky's mind did a hard kick right this moment and he jerked up, freeing himself from Steve's weakened hold and tuning on his knees to face him. "You're what?!"
Clear eyes filled with incomprehension.
"Bisexual? You just told me you were gay so I thought...
- No no no! Not the problem here! You can't drop that kinda bomb on me like that! That's not fair!"
Steve looked thoroughly lost.
"Buck?
- How long?!
- What..?
- How long have you known?!"
Steve frowned.
"I... Sometimes along the way? I think the first one to brought it up was Tony and... well he wasn't wrong."
Bucky somehow breathed again.
"Okay. Okay. Yeah. You didn't know back then." He laughed, a little helplessly, and Steve was looking at him with a puzzled and worried expression.
"What the matter with you Buck? I really thought of all people you wouldn't care about it even back th..." He stopped in his tracks, some pieces seemingly fitting themselves together. "Wait a minute. You knew. Back there. You knew you were gay. Why didn't you tell me?"
Hurt was now written all over his open face and shit shit shit.
"Stevie...
- Did you believe I would think any less of you if..." There it was again. Realization. "Wait another minute. You said... When you called me Loki and you thought you were speaking to him. You asked if it was a twisted game to get into your pants..."
Bucky closed his eyes because this damn blue gaze was too earnest, too piercing, too much. He put both hands in front of his face for good measure.
That was it. He was screwed.
"Buck..."
Oh was his tone low and tentative.
Come on Stevie, you can't break me more than I already am, just say it.
"Hey, look at me."
Soft fingers wrapped around his wrists, lowering his hands. And he couldn't help but comply. It was Steve. It was always Steve.
His eyes were still a sunny Sunday afternoon. They hanged Bucky's all world in them.
"Were you in love with me?"
Straight to the point. That was so Steve he had to laugh.
"Yeah. Busted.
- Shit, Buck..."
Accurate.
"You know the funniest part? I still am. Never ceased to be."
He smiled. Like, a true, genuine smile. He was so accustomed to the weight of this particular secret that he totally forgot it was there.
He felt light all a sudden.
And Steve. Steve laughed too. A big and wizzing laugh, the kind he sometimes broke into when he was a little no-shit-taken sickly marvel.
"That's not the funniest part Buck.
- It's not?" Somehow he was still smiling, amused despite himself, some strange joy bubbling in the hollow of his chest, filling it.
"No. Wanna know how I understand I was bi, after Tony not so subtly told me I was ogling Thor's muscles?
- Were you?
- Totally irrelevant but yes. No, I understood it was true in the middle of the night following it. When I wake up missing you so fucking much it was digging a hole in my chest...
- Oh.
- Yeah. That's what I said to my ceiling this night. Then I cried."
They stared at each other, Bucky on his knees, Steve sitting in front of him.
"I honestly don't know if I want to laugh or cry right now." Bucky slowly shook his head, trying very hard to sort out the myriad of thoughts racing through his poor, impaired brain.
"Ditto." Steve was sporting a dumb look that was probably mirroring Bucky's. "God, we really are stupid, aren't we?
- Hey, at least I knew I was gay for you all along. Speak for yourself pal!"
Steve arched a brow.
"Oh, yeah, you knew all along and never uttered a single word. Very smart indeed.
- I was a man in love with a little, apparently very heterosexual, hedgehog that turned himself into a big porcupine exuding heterosexual vibes from his every spikes! How was I supposed to do anything beside suffer?!
- That's very dramatic.
- Everything was very dramatic at that time Steve!
- Want me to kiss it better?
- I..." The words caught up with his brain and he suddenly froze, mouth hanging open and eyes more than certainly bulging comically. Steve's cheekbones were dusted the most beautiful layer of pink and his lips were tugged up into a shit-eating grin. The little punk. "What..?"
The grin widened before morphing, becoming the most tender smile he ever seen on Steve's face.
The bubbles in his chest had somehow turned into a flock of birds actively lauching themselves against his rib cage.
"You look stupid." Two large, warm hands cupped his face. "You look beautiful."
Calloused thumbs were tracing little circles along his cheekbones. He felt numb and at the same time all the birds suddenly caught fire.
Steve let out a little sight before closing the distance to press their foreheads together. That was familiar. So much so that it threw him even more off quilter.
"Can I kiss you Buck?"
The whispered question caressed his skin in a soft blow of hot breath.
There was only one bird now. A big phoenix that was devouring every bit of emptiness left inside him.
"Yeah. Please." His arms rose, slow and heavy, like threading through molasses. He took hold of Steve's shirt once again. "I mean, I've only been waiting for a hundred years. No hurry here.
- Jerk."
The insult was traced along his lips by curled up ones.
Then they were kissing.
Slow and heated, soft and clumsy, awkward and perfect.
Thank god, I suppose.
He lost himself in the warm fire, smiling and crying. World suddenly bright and sunny again.