six
If there’s anything else that Steve can appreciate about this strange out of time experience, it’s at least having the knowledge that he’s still handy with a charcoal and some pens. The sketchbook had shown him that, among a few other things that previously he hadn’t even known he was unsure of. The sketches weren’t that much different in style from what few of his own he has back in his SHIELD apartment, but the material is a different story of its own.
Apparently future Steve doesn’t live here with Bucky, but like Bucky said, he often comes home. The drawings had proven that. There are at least a dozen of them in the book of all the things Bucky had shown him yesterday- the neighborhood kids hanging out in the tree next to Bucky’s hut. The strange yet symmetrical skyline of what Steve assumes is a city somewhere in Wakanda that he doubts he’ll ever go. In contrast, there’s also a page featuring the market in a quieter, more traditional part of town. There’s also a drawing of the sunset- the only page Steve saw done in color. That was a good choice. He doubts mere black and white could have done that sight justice.
There are also pages with people and places he doesn’t think belong here- a redheaded woman that eventually turns blonde features in most of them, as does a muscular, dark skinned man with a goatee and a grin that’s almost always shown. He’s not sure who they are, but in a lot of the sketches, they seem happy. There’s one drawing Steve liked a lot of the two of them laughing on the couch with socked feet sitting on the smiling man’s lap that Steve assumes are supposed to be his own. He thinks these people are his friends- or, they will be. He doesn’t know.
It’s just nice to see that even when Bucky isn’t with him in person, maybe he won’t always be alone. He’d stayed on that page the longest, at least until he finally got to the pages with Bucky.
Those had been in a completely different category all on their own, the same way Bucky has been in his heart. There were so many. Maybe to make up for all the time they’re apparently going to lose together, but more likely just because Steve loves him in every lifetime, even the ones where they’re kept apart. Bucky had said they have a knack for finding each other. This visit… Steve hopes this visit proves that to be true, even if he is only here for what neither of them want to acknowledge as a limited amount of time.
For now, Steve doesn’t have to find him. All he has to do is follow, which is exactly what he’s doing as they make their way walking towards the waterfall that Bucky swears is somehow always kept warm.
“No one wants to tell me how,” he’s saying, stepping over a log to lead Steve down the well-worn path to where he can already hear water trickling in the distance. “I asked the neighbors and Shuri, but all they did was tell me to mind my business and all she did was tell me to quit trying to snoop.” He grins back over his shoulder at Steve like he’s trying to make sure he’s still there. “I can live with not knowing the mechanics of it as long as it ends up with me being able to still use the pool.”
Pool, Steve comes to find, does not do the sight that welcomes him a few minutes later justice at all. Not by a long shot.
Like every view he’s seen here so far, the clearing he steps into behind Bucky is beautiful. The spot is hidden in the forest behind the hut, so the surrounding foliage is lush and green, reflected over water that is sparkling in the sunlight filtering through the trees to hit it. It’s crystal clear, swirling in lazy circle from the flow of the waterfall that trickles down to fill it. Steve’s staring down into, for once more fascinated than he is afraid by the proximity to open water than he has been since waking up. He bends down to dip his fingers in. It’s warm, just like Bucky said.
Bucky lets the satchel of towels, toiletries, and clothes thump down onto one of the dry, flat rocks that circle the edge of the midsized pool and comes to crouch next to Steve, sticking his flesh fingers in alongside him. Steve lets his eyes linger on them. Besides the fact that Bucky only has one of them left, his hands have changed, aged up in their own way along with the rest of them. There are different callouses than he’s used to seeing. From farm work rather than a gun.
Steve had sketched those hands so often growing up that he has the sight of how they used to look still practically ingrained, and while he’s slightly sad those had to change too, he wants to sketch them again. He wants to know them again. He wants to be held by them again. He wants to… well, he wants a lot of things he’s not sure he’s allowed to have. Bucky already has someone, and even if that someone is still him, Steve’s not the same. He’s the lesser version. The worse one.
He wonders what Bucky sees when he looks at him. All the cracked pieces or the things that he hasn’t yet lost. He doesn’t suppose there’s any good way to ask, so he doesn’t.
Bucky draws his fingers out of the water and dries them off by wiping them through his beard, which Steve has to pointedly not stare at. That’s another part of Bucky that’s new, and he wants to get to know that too. Steve wipes his own fingers off on his thigh. Bucky isn’t shy about watching him. He must be worried about how Steve will react to the water, which is a little annoying, but Steve is a little worried himself.
It’s warm, though, and it doesn’t look too deep. Besides, Bucky will be with him, just like he was when Steve learned how to swim.
Getting up, Bucky goes over to the bag he’d brought and takes out a towel to toss it towards Steve. “Here you go.”
“What, no swim trunks?” Steve says, catching it and standing up himself. Bucky doesn’t answer- the bastard even starts whistling. Steve looks up at him, eyes narrowed. “Really, Buck? Skinny dipping?” That’s the sort of thing they read about in bad books growing up. Not like they got many chances to do it except during the war.
They had done it a few times, though, if you count washing up in the river and staying in the water far past what counted as an actual bath. Underwater was one of the best places they could hide, especially when it came to having their hands on each other. Steve isn’t sure Bucky will be putting his hands on him now, but apparently he’s expecting him to get in there nude.
Or maybe not. Bucky laughs and tosses him a dark pair of underwear next. “This is all I really have, but I was serious about using this as a shower, so if you don’t mind…” He gestures to himself. “I wasn’t gonna wear anything myself.”
Oh. Steve’s brain short circuits a little.
The casual confidence Bucky has with his body- last night’s hesitance over Steve having to see his scarring aside- is nothing new. Neither is the sight of Bucky’s bare body in the first place. But the idea of seeing it how it is now, so openly… Steve’s answer comes out slightly strangled. “Sure,” he says. Then, trying to tamp down what he knows is a beet red blush on his face, “That’s okay.”
Bucky is fiddling with the edge of his shirt like he’s unsure, but Steve can still see that goddamn smirt playing at the corners of his mouth. For all that he calls Steve a little shit, the older man is a downright menace. “Don’t feel obligated to do the same,” he says, and Steve can tell that sentiment is genuine even though the rest is teasing. “I’ll offer to wash your hair either way.”
Steve has to turn away and start taking off his own shirt after that, hoping the fabric keeps Bucky from seeing the sappy expression on his face. He’d always liked when Bucky was able to do that before, even if he’d bitched about it when he was small. During the war when they could risk it, it became somewhat of a comfort. Something soft and domestic that they could still manage to take just for themselves. Having that back now… the little things mean a lot.
Steve stays turned when he starts to work on his pants as well, so his now bare back is still to Bucky when he hears the telltale sound of the other man’s pants dropping, then the zippers clinking as he must toss them on a rock. Steve closes his eyes and takes off his own, pointedly trying not to picture all of that exposed skin and hard earned muscle in the sun, but he doesn’t quite manage, especially not when he can also hear Bucky jump in right as he shoves his own pants down.
“Come on in,” Bucky calls. “The water’s fine.”
Steve stares down at the navy blue briefs Bucky had tossed him, then to the white ones he already has on. He has two options to work with here. And then… a third. If that’s what he chooses. He doesn’t feel obligated. Mostly he just wants, and wonders if he's allowed to have.
Here’s to hoping he finds out.
He drops his underwear and sets them on top of the rest of Bucky’s borrowed clothing, distantly thinking back to where his actual clothes are and if the palace staff kept them or probably threw them out. He hopes they at least kept the jacket. That’s the one thing he liked.
That question fades out of his mind when he finally turns and moves as quickly as he can to join the other man already waiting in the pool. The temperature of it is warm and the depth starts out relatively shallow at the edge, so it isn’t too hard or too triggering to make his way in deeper, walking down into the water and trying to tread his way over to where Bucky is already wetting his hair by the foamed up spray of the waterfall.
It’s hard not to hone in completely on the lines of Bucky’s bared up body under the clear edge of the water, but Steve manages, even if he does maybe take a quick glance. Everything down there is the same, at least. He didn’t expect much of a change, even if Bucky’s thighs are a little thicker, but that’s how the rest of him is too. He’s got his eyes closed when Steve joins him, water streaming down his face, and when he moves out of the water’s way to open them up, the color looks so blue that Steve can’ help but think it’s a shame there were never any mermen in their storybooks growing up. Seeing that picture at a young age would have probably cleared a few problems up. Or maybe it’s just because it’s Bucky, and Bucky had been the one starting to cause all those problems in the first place.
He’s sort of causing a problem now.
He’s smiling at Steve when he comes closer, water on his lashes and dripping down to his lips. Steve has the sudden urge to lick it off. “Nice swimsuit.”
Steve splashes water at him so he can’t see his face go red again. He can blame it on the sunburn later, at least. “Some of us are actually concerned about getting clean.” This usually would be the type of moment where Bucky would dunk his head under the water back during the war, but he doesn’t do that now.
Instead, he laughs and starts swimming in circles around Steve like some sort of predator about to zero in on its prey. Somehow, Steve doesn’t feel particularly in danger. Or relatively adverse to that idea. “I care about getting clean. Just thought I’d enjoy being dirty a little longer first.” He says that like it’s a line, and when he smiles, his whole face practically gleams in the sunlight.
Steve can blame the shift in his breathing on being in the water all he wants, but that doesn’t change what they both already probably know. Water like this doesn’t exactly hide much, though he’s not sure what Bucky is going for here. “You’re making me dizzy.” That’s not really physically true right now, but privately, Bucky’s always had the ability to make Steve’s brain go a little loopy.
“Need me to hold you up, then?” And with that, Bucky finally pounces, pushing through the water so that it splashes up around him and Steve doesn’t have but a few seconds to register before he feels Bucky’s arms wrapping around his sides as he nudges in for a sloppy, open mouthed kiss that tastes like spring water.
Steve is so surprised by it that he lets out a small sound when the contact finally registers, but that doesn’t keep him from sinking down into it. His arms settle around Bucky’s contrasted shoulders, holding on while Bucky leads the exchange and then head tipping back when it ends. Jesus. Bucky sprang that on him pretty fast- Steve’s hair isn’t even wet.
The rest of his body is, though. It’d be weird for it not to be with how it’s under the water, pressed practically chest to toe against Bucky’s own. Bucky sprang that on him pretty fast too, and as much as Steve doesn’t mind, they also need to slow down before he really does get dizzy with all the confusion currently spinning through his head.
Bucky tries for another kiss and Steve has to half him with a hand pressed to his chest. He tries not to take notice of how firm it feels under his fingers- no wonder he’d gotten such a good rest. “Buck, wait.”
Within a second, Bucky does, drawing back completely with a genuine look of concern that’s so sudden at Steve’s hesitance it’s almost sweet. It is sweet, but Steve is a little sad at how cold being left without Bucky’s body makes him go, even with how warm the water is. “What is it? I push you too far? You need me to go grab some clothes?” He’s already swimming towards where his satchel is, and once again, Steve has to halt him.
This time he does it with words. “No!” Then, when Bucky turns from where he’s treading to face him, “That’s not… that’s not what it is. I want it.” His voice gets softer. “Want you.”
Bucky’s answer comes out so simply it almost makes Steve feel stupid. “Then you can have me, Stevie.”
And doesn’t that just take the cake. He laughs, and it’s wet from more than just the water. “Can I?” The question feels hopeless, even while Steve’s heart is beating halfway out of his chest at the way Bucky is circling back closer, looking to calm him down.
His words are gentle, as is the hand that comes up to cup Steve’s cheek. “Would I offer if I was going to tell you you can’t?” Steve can feel where Bucky’s legs are kicking in the water beneath them, and he feels strangely like that’s the only thing that’s keeping him afloat. Being able to feel that. To feel him. “I’m awful, but not that awful.” And then Bucky’s nose is nudging up against Steve’s own for a small, sweet kiss that only lasts a second before Bucky is speaking right up against his lips. “Sweetheart, I’m yours.”
“But.. the other guy,” Steve tries to say, not wanting to fight back but feeling unable to give in without at least giving Bucky the option to get out. “What about him?”
Bucky sighs and smiles at him like he wants to snack the side of his head. He probably would, if they weren’t in the water. “I’m his too. But he trusts me, just like you do.” Then, he does smack Steve, finally wetting his hair with the accompanying splash. “Remember how you’re the same person?”
Somehow while talking, they’re both managed to make their way to the edge of the pool where it’s shallow enough for their feet to touch ground, and Bucky takes advantage of that as soon as they do to grip both sides of Steve’s face, ignoring the chill bumps that erupt now that the water is only slightly above their waists.
“I’m always gonna take care of you,” he whispers, and now his voice is wet too. “All you gotta do right now is let me.” He touches his thumb to the center of Steve’s chin. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you?” The tone in his voice is clear about who will be taking charge, but this is a question that sets that to the side. This is Bucky asking Steve for his permission.
Steve doesn’t have much to offer, but at least he can give him that. He nods so fast it’s almost frantic, and then makes a desperately relieved sound when both Bucky’s arms wrap around him yet again, this time without either of them trying to hold back. Steve doesn’t ever want to hold back again. All he wants to do is hold on.
That’s exactly what he does, even when Bucky pulls them back in the water. He isn’t afraid of going under this time, not when he has Bucky here to pull him out- or in this case, back him over to a blunt rock that lines the edge of the pool to pin him as gently as he can against it. They kiss almost the entire way over there, and then kiss some more before having to pull away for a breath. Steve is careful about tossing back his head, but he doesn’t have to be when Bucky brings up his flesh hand to fit behind it and act as a cushion while his metal hand clamps on the edge of the rock to keep them both from sinking. Their legs are still moving, but soon enough, Steve forgoes even that in favor of letting his spread to wrap around Bucky’s waist while his arms circle once again around his neck.
He’s floating, fear gone somewhere that doesn’t matter. Not now, when Bucky’s body is right in his space. Not now when he’s nudging in for yet another kiss that Steve had to wait an entire lifetime to be able to receive.
Bucky kisses him and hums into it, tongue licking at the seam of his lips until Steve opens up that part of himself too and chooses to let him inside. He’s been closed off for so long that he feels like he should be out of practice, but with Bucky, it’s easy. That’s the best part about him. Their lives have never been and apparently never will be easy, but loving him always is. It’s the easiest thing Steve has ever done.
He feels sort of easy himself right now with what he’s working with under the water, but in his defense, arousal isn’t exactly something he’s been feeling much of for the past six weeks. He’s had other things to handle, but right now… he thinks he wants Bucky to handle him, and he doesn’t think it’s going to be very hard for him to tell. It feels a little odd to be like this so out in the open, but Bucky promised complete privacy and Steve doesn’t see anyone else around. He’d say he doesn’t hear anyone either, but that doesn’t mean much with how loud the staticky sound of the waterfall is.
He’s also a little preoccupied at the present moment. Bucky fills practically all of his senses in the current setting, especially when he sets about kissing him again. He’s all Steve can feel. All Steve can see. All Steve can smell, can hear, can taste. Steve wouldn’t trade being anywhere else for the world. There is, however, the pesky fact of the matter that they’ve supposed to be getting clean. But like Bucky joked about earlier, he seems dead set on getting them dirty first.
He still takes the time to ask Steve before touching him where they both can see he wants it, might even need it. The water doesn’t hide much. Steve himself can see Bucky’s dark nipples smudged under right where the water meets his chest, the hair covering it gone dark with the moisture. He can also feel more than see Bucky’s body where it’s firmed up and interested against his own, which in turn, only makes Steve want even more.
Bucky’s voice is nothing above a whisper, but it’s close enough to Steve’s ear for the rush of the waterfall not to cover the words. “You want me to touch you?” He doesn’t need to ask, but he does, and Steve loves him for it. He’s always been so damn overprotective, but for once, Steve won’t complain.
He nods, Bucky’s fingers still fit into his hair. “Please,” he breathes, the familiar feeling of wanting Bucky so bad it sinks down into his bones bubbling up for the first time since the fall. “Please.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs, mouth still on Steve’s own. “I got you. Come on.”
For a moment, Steve doesn’t know where they’re supposed to go until Bucky’s arms are back around him and pulling him out of the pool towards the rocks of the makeshift shore. He doesn’t understand why for a second, shivering and trying to keep from slipping to break his neck until Bucky tosses his towel at him with a rueful smile.
“As much as I love you, we are not making time in the water,” he informs him, spreading his own thick towel flat over the largest rock that’s available and patting the spot next to him when he sits like he wants Steve to come over. Steve does. “Not when we’re supposed to clean up in it right after. Probably could have been a bit better planning there on my end, but,” he plants one on Steve’s mouth, the smack of it when the pull apart making Steve pink. “Sometimes being sweet on you means I can’t think straight.”
Steve’s currently having a hard time thinking straight too. The way Bucky’s sitting has his waist doubled up and thighs spread wide, all that interest his body had shown down in the water still pushing up in plain sight between them. Steve’s own towel is wrapped low around his shoulders, but Bucky’s gentle push for him to drop the fabric away is one he falls into easily. He wants this more than he once wanted to stay alive, and that’s sad to think of right now- so he doesn’t. He lets Bucky push that away too.
“Gonna give you my hand, yeah? Make you feel good,” Bucky says lowly, already reaching the right one forward, a motion that makes Steve think back to one of the first times they had done something like this the summer he was eighteen and Bucky’s family took a day trip to the beach.
It had been a few days after the Fourth for a weekend getaway, so Bucky had convinces his parents to take Steve with them as a gift for his late birthday. Steve’s not sure what was the main draw for the older boy: not having to pay for a present or seeing Steve shirtless out in the sun.
It had probably been stupider than either of them will want to remember these days, going down at night under the docks where it was dark and dank just so they could get a quick hand on each other’s dicks. But they got away with it without being arrested, somehow. It still blows Steve’s mind that they don’t have to worry about all those same things now. Sure, it would be embarrassing if someone walked up- but it’d be legal for them to just be together. Not only in this country, but also back home. Back home in Brooklyn where Steve wonders if he’ll ever have a home again waiting.
That’s another thing he doesn’t want to think about now. So he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches up his hand to wipe away the water sliding down his neck and uses the slickness to reach for Bucky’s cock where it’s pushing up between strong, sturdy legs and starts tentatively stroking while Bucky does the same with a lick to his palm that Steve still finds disgusting despite seeing him do it for- well, decades now.
He almost complains, but doesn’t, can’t- it’s a bit embarrassing getting worked up so fast, but he hasn’t done this in decades either. It’s not something he wanted to enjoy without Bucky there to be with him. And now that he’s getting it after what felt like so long… the sun isn’t the only thing that’s keeping him heated up right now. Steve just got out of the water, but he feels warm because Bucky is by his side, hands on him hot and alive.
He hadn’t been touched so long before this, and now, to be touched so intimately by the person he missed the most- it’s a miracle he manages to keep from crying. He settles for at least curling up close as he tries to match Bucky’s pace, head resting on his metal shoulder while the hard length of the actual prosthetic comes up to rest on his back. The hand Steve’s not using to try and reciprocate Bucky jerking him off is slipped behind to clutch at his waist, fingers digging into soft skin where they formerly never could spare it. Everything is so different, but what Bucky’s making him feel is the same.
The spray of the waterfall is nothing but background noise with how Bucky starts whispering his usual strain of sweet talk into Steve’s ears while slowing down his stores. He shushes the sad sound Steve makes. “Just relax, sweetheart,” he says gently. “Let yourself have it. C’mon, look down.”
When Steve finally does, it’s with a groan. The sight of one of those hands he loved so much being on him in a way he thought he’d never get again- even aside from the arousal still curled up in Steve’s belly, it’s still beautiful to him in a way that his half out of it brain registers as something he should sketch. Which is ridiculous, because he’s never done that before, but part of him wants to draw it just because it’s Bucky. It’s Bucky’s hand on him.
Touch, Steve has come to find, is what makes things feel real. And if he gets this taken away from him, how else will he know it’s real then?
Bucky touches the pad of his thumb to the tip of Steve in a way that makes him have to turn his head away and end that train of thought. He doesn’t need to worry about losing touch when he’s getting so much of it now. Bucky’s touching him, and he’s talking again too. “Pretty baby,” he murmurs. “Look so good like this.” He kisses Steve’s hair, even though it’s still unwashed and the heat has them both beginning to sweat. “Never get tired of seeing you go so sweet.”
Steve makes a noise into the crook of Bucky’s neck that he hopes doesn’t come out high enough to be a whine, but he can’t help his reactions when Bucky moves his wrist like that. “You lay it on so thick it’s bound to rub off at some point,” he exhales, trying to come off more composted that they both know he really is.
“Yeah?” Steve can hear the smirk in Bucky’s voice. “You want to rub off on me, huh?”
Steve groans again, thankful this time that it comes out deep. “Didn’t say that,” he gets out, trying to sound stubborn but secretly hoping Bucky will read between the lines. He wants him on top of him, to be weighed down so he’ll never have to go anywhere Bucky doesn’t go with him ever again.
“You didn’t have to.” Bucky grins, and then, because he’s always been able to read Steve like a book- “That also wasn’t a no.” With that, he lets Steve go, which elicits another groan and then a surprised exhale when Bucky promptly shoves him on his back. Bucky may have joked about being bad at planning earlier, but this time he’s prepared enough to bunch up Steve’s discarded towel to pillow behind his head so he doesn’t crack his skull open on a rock just because they wanted to get off. That looks like a wish to be fulfilled soon based off of how hungrily Bucky looks down at him from above.
It’s promising. And Bucky Barnes never breaks a promise.
He kisses Steve again and that’s promising too, as is the roll of his hips that come down to meet where Steve rocks up against him. “You want me to make you feel good?” he says roughly, already balancing his weight to brace on his metal arm so he can snake his right hand down between them.
Steve’s already feeling pretty good, but he nods and arches his spine trying to get Bucky’s hand back around him. “Want it,” he sighs, legs spreading the same way they had in the water. “Want you.”
Bucky kisses above his eyebrows, aim sloppy with how he’s fitting his fist around them both to start back up his strokes. “There’ll be time for going all the way later, speed racer,” he teases. “You’ll have to settle for the old fashioned way, for now, I’m afraid.”
Steve groans and kicks his heel halfheartedly against Bucky’s bare back. “Get to it, old man.” For some reason, Bucky finds that hilarious. He’s still laughing when Steve finally decides to kiss him back into being quiet- or as quiet as Bucky ever is when he has Steve underneath him.
They’re still kissing when Steve eventually goes over the edge, spilling on Bucky’s stomach with a bitten off whimper into his mouth and a burst of pleasure that whites out his vision. He throws his head back hard while Bucky works him through it, impossibly thankful for the towel that’s still pillowed behind his head when he finds it in him to come back down to earth. He’s given a warm welcome with the sight of Bucky following in his footsteps to come, leaned back to finish the job and watch where Steve is still laying, now languid and lazy in the sun with a mess marked up on his stomach. The mess only gets even worse when Bucky decides to add to it, but Steve is too content for now to really mind.
Bucky wipes it away a few moments later anyways, using a third towel that he must have had tucked away in the satchel that he wets by leaning over the water to dip it in. He throws it to the side after they’re both relatively clean of the remnants of the exchange and kisses Steve on the nose once before laying down beside him.
“We really need to wash off,” Steve says, but he doesn’t want to move yet.
Evidently, Bucky doesn’t either. “We can wait a bit.” And so they do.
It takes another half hour for them to get back in the water, and then another hour after that to actually get clean and dry off with how Bucky doesn’t hold back from his usual suggestive antics every three seconds that he gets to see Steve undressed. He’s practically worse than he was before the war when Steve would wear his work shirts around the apartment. Steve really misses being able to do that. It’s part of why he tends to wear his own shirts a little baggy now, though the t-shirt Bucky has stuck him in today is a little too tight around the chest.
He’s laying against Bucky’s chest at the current moment, the two of them now back to being dressed but choosing to sit in the sun while their hair finishes drying. Bucky had even brought a brush, which is what he’s busying himself with now. Steve’s hair is short enough to barely be damp by this point, so he decides to busy himself with the sketchbook instead. Bucky told him on the way here that the other guy (thinking about that never gets any less weird) said he could use it if he wants.
Steve doesn’t think he’d feel comfortable talking to him or anything, but the offer to use some of the blank pages was nice. He’d chosen to accept, hence the sketch he’s working on now. It’s not anything too daring or detailed, just a quick outline of the waterfall so he can remember how it felt to be in it. He’s never bathed somewhere like this, but it was nice. For more reasons than what happened beforehand.
He’s lying perpendicular to Bucky, head on his chest but their legs stretched out in opposite directions with Steve facing towards the water and Bucky back towards the path. Bucky’s been so quiet the last few minutes that Steve would assume he’s dozed off asleep if not for the metal hand that’s now stroking through his hair in a brushing movement of its own.
Bucky is the first to break the lull, but his voice is light enough for the calm not to lessen. “We should probably head back soon. Get some food.” He tugs a little on Steve’s hair to get his attention from where he’s shading in the edges of a rock. “C’mon, kid. Get ‘em moving.” Steve sighs and is about to, but that’s before he noticed the sight of something colorful flash in his peripheral. He pauses and tries to look at where it went- then realizes what’s happening when Bucky laughs and points out, “You’ve got a butterfly on your head.”
Steve tries to keep extra still even though he wishes he could see. “I do?”
Bucky snorts and reaches for where his phone and watch are lying beside his socks. He uses the screen, opening up the camera so Steve can see his own head and what’s on top. “You do.” He promptly snaps a picture of Steve at a very unflattering angle and Steve has to move in order to protest, staring forlornly as the butterfly flies off.
“Hey,” he complains when Bucky chuckles. Phones are sometimes he was already struggling to get used to before, and now they’re apparently even more complicated. He wonders where his own SHIELD phone went and if it’s lying somewhere on the ground back in Brooklyn with Fury still trying to figure out what happened. That’s sort of funny to think about, though he doesn’t say so to Bucky. He’s sort of gotten the impression he doesn’t like the guy.
Bucky doesn’t even bother with an answer. He just hums and pulls on his socks before standing to pull Steve up after he does the same. “Bath time is over, punk. Let’s get back to the hut.”
The walk away from the waterfall feels a little melancholy, mostly because Steve is wondering if they’ll get to go back there again. It looks even more beautiful in the moonlight, he bets. Maybe tomorrow night he can ask Bucky if they can come back out.
For now, he follows him to the hut. Bucky said they had plans today, and he’s pretty sure taking a bath wasn’t the end of it, but he hasn’t elaborated on anything else they’re going to do. Steve decides to ask while they’re still making their way through the forest. “Where else are you thinking about dragging me around?”
Bucky shoulders the satchel that now contains Steve’s sketchbook over his back, bumping their hips together when Steve falls in step beside him out of habit. “Well, since you seem to have a way with animals, I was thinking I could take you to go see those goats I mentioned yesterday. You know, the ones my neighbor wants me to take?” He brushes his hair out of his face and secures it with a hair tie while they’re walking. “Figure I should see what I’m getting into first.”
Steve smiles at the thought. Growing up in the city didn’t exactly give them much opportunity to interact with animals outside of housepets and alley cats, but there had been some farm houses they spent the nights in in Europe that had pastures nearby. He’s never held a goat, though, especially not a baby one. “That sounds nice.” Then, he frowns. “Won’t your neighbor be a little freaked out to see me looking, you know…” He gestures to himself, not sure of what word he’s looking for.
Bucky gives it to him. “Young? Cleancut?” He snorts when Steve scowls at the descriptors, but waves him off. “He’s not as nosy as the kids, and they’ll most likely be in school right now. He might not even be home, and we’ll just be going to the pen”
Steve raises his eyebrows. They’re almost to the hut by now. “And you have permission? Or are you breaking in?”
“You think I’m a criminal or something?” Bucky side eyes him and pokes him in the shoulder while they walk up to the hut so he can set the satchel down inside the door. Steve stays outside while Bucky ducks in to do it, speaking again when he steps out. “Me and him are pals. He doesn’t mind.” Then, stage whispering, “And if we get caught, I’m pretty sure you know how to run.”
Steve side eyes him back, then rolls his eyes and tries not to laugh when Bucky just sticks out his tongue. “Bet I could outrun you.”
“Yeah? Some of us aren’t so young.”
“It’s not even five years, and you said the same thing when it was only one-“
“I’m sorry. My ears don’t work as well as they used to. Can you speak up?”
When Steve shoves him, Bucky doesn’t fall, which Steve is secretly glad for. He never wants to have to deal with that again.
-
An hour and a half later when Steve is covered in hay and holding two baby goats, he begins to suspect that maybe their baths were for naught. He likes the little animals, but they’re not exactly what he would call sweet smelling, and about ten minutes ago, he only narrowly avoided one peeing on his lap. Bucky had thought it was hilarious until one actually got his shoe. If Steve still had his phone, he would have been taking a picture of that.
The neighbor Bucky had mentioned is in fact out, but Bucky had had no qualms about hopping the fence and climbing right in. Steve had seen no other choice but to go in right after him, and that’s how they wound up where they are right now. The neighbor’s nanny apparently gave birth to three little kids, the smallest of which Bucky is currently holding.
He’s a tiny little fellow, barely bigger than some of the cats that used to run around the city when they were growing up. He’s also a pushy little bastard that has a bleat about as big as his bite and fur covering him that’s white as snow- a pushy little bastard who apparently is already Bucky’s favorite despite the fact he’s tried to take a chunk out of his hair at least twice.
The kids Steve is holding where he’s sat in a cleaner corner of the hay (which was pretty damn hard to come by) are a lot calmer in comparison, the one on the left the same color as her brother but with black spots and the one on the right colored to look like salt and pepper. The female one has been headbutting Steve on and off for the past half hour. Her other brother is just standing there twitching his nose.
For some reason, Bucky is bouncing the kid he’s holding like it’s an actual human baby and not a goat. Steve snorts, but doesn’t say anything. It’s kind of endearing. He bets Bucky saw his Ma do the same with his little sisters growing up. Steve can’t say that he saw the same, but seeing Bucky do it now is good enough, even if it does make his heart feel kind of strange.
This isn’t the life Steve ever thought he’d see them live. Growing up, he didn’t expect to be alive at this age, though he figured he’d have to see Bucky get married to a woman at some young age- but that was before they both went to war. Then he spent every day thinking neither of them were going to be alive after a while at all. On the rare occasions he did let himself daydream… he saw them in the city in an apartment that they still shared a room in together, just slightly more spacious. Somewhere where they could be bachelors on the outside and be together when they stayed in.
In an idea world, somewhere where they didn’t have to let anyone else in their little world at all. It wasn’t something he let himself think about often. After all, he was supposed to be staying strong.
Being back with Bucky now has made him feel like he’s letting himself get weak, in a way. Or at least like he’s letting those walls down that the ice had given him plenty of time to grow up, even while he wasn’t allowed to grow up himself at all. He’s still stuck between twenty six and a hundred. Bucky may have settled on thirty two, but Steve can’t say he’s gotten into the pattern of seeing himself do the same. Twenty seven. The same age Bucky was for the fall. Life has moved on for him, but for Steve… sometimes he wonders if he’d rather it not.
This new world is strange. He still doesn’t know where he’s supposed to stay, but this place… it’s nice to see that whatever world he ends up in, it’ll be somewhere where Bucky finds peace. It’s nice to know that he’ll be a part of it.
Bucky’s always saying Steve has a habit of getting lost in his own head, an observation only proven to be accurate when he has you call his name to get his attention twice. “Steve,” he tries. Then, after a second, “Stevie.”
Steve looks up at him and blinks, absentmindedly petting both goats he has with him on their heads. Bucky is still bouncing the little guy. “What is it, Buck?”
Bucky’s grinning crookedly enough for Steve to know there’s either a line, something lewd, or a laugh coming. Considering they’re surrounded by animals, he expects the latter. He gets it when Bucky snorts before he even says anything at all. “What would you say about me naming this little guy after you?”
Steve narrows his eyes and brushes his hands off on his pants before getting up and going over to him so he can get a closer look at the said little guy himself. “Are you saying that because he’s the runt?” he asks incredulously. One glance at Bucky’s grin getting wider is all he needs to know the answer. It’s affirmative. “Buck.”
Bucky ignores his protesting and moves his ponytail out of the way before it can get bitten again. “How about Punk?” he suggests slyly. Then, pretending to think, “Little Shit?” Steve gives him an unimpressed look and his grin goes crooked again. “Stevie?”
Steve huffs and picks a piece of stray goat hair off of his shoulder. Bucky’s an asshole. Apparently he always is going to be. “You’re trying to pawn my nickname off on a goat?”
“Aw, sugar,” Bucky croons, crowding closer with the unnamed kid still cradled in his arms. He holds him between them so Steve is forced to look down at his little furry face. He is cute, at least. “You’ve still got plenty of names left on my book.” That’s true. Bucky always has a million and more coming from his mouth- case and point, the one he uses now. “You’re still my sweetheart.”
That makes the tips of Steve’s ears burn a little brighter even after all this time. He went a while without hearing it, so he thinks he’s allowed to be a bit too happy about having it now. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to argue about Bucky naming a goddamn goat after what he’s been calling him since they were teens. “How about we compromise and settle on Roger?”
Bucky huffs out an amused breath as he bends down to let the little guy go join his siblings on the other side of the pen. “Roger? Really?”
“What’s wrong with Roger?” Steve defends. It’s his last name, after all. The only thing of his Ma he had left and the only thing he ever had from his father at all.
Bucky must see something in his face that says to quit teasing about it, because he relents and wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and kisses him in a way that would better be reserved for somewhere romantic like the rain than it would be for a goat’s pen. “It’s a fine name.” He kisses him a second time on the forehead before they turn to all three kids to watch them trot around. “Roger it is then.”
Steve smiles and leans onto Bucky’s shoulder, feeling oddly sappy but still dumb enough to joke. “Roger that.”
Bucky smacks the side of his head with the flat of his flesh hand yet again. “Really, Rogers?” He pauses. “I’m talking to you, not the goat.” Another pause that he spends playing with the hair on the nape of Steve’s neck. “Though I think you’re just as stubborn.
It’s Steve’s turn to smack him at that, a motion carried out with a smile that in the moment feels like it will never fade away.
-
Unfortunately, that smile does fade by the time they get back to the hut and see what’s awaiting them up ahead. Or rather, who is awaiting them. It’s a woman that he hasn’t seen before with a shaved head and a severe expression only added to by the brightly colored armor that adorns her body, as well as the spear that’s held straight by her side. Steve doesn’t know her, but Bucky must, because he’s calling her name as soon as they get close enough to make out her face.
“Ayo,” he greets, friendlier than Steve would expect for a woman who looks so fierce. “Did someone send you?”
Ayo nods curtly, but she also offers them a small smile. Steve wonders if she and his future self are familiar with each other. “I have word from the king. He has requested for you and Captain Rogers to meet with him and the princess in her lab.”
Bucky frowns, and Steve can feel him stand up straighter, arm whirring where only they can hear, which only serves to get Steve’s apprehension to grow. “Is everything okay?”
“I was not privy to that part of things,” she says, spear shifting in her hand while something in her expression softens the slightest amount. “But Princess Shuri seemed very satisfied with herself when I left.”
Steve’s stomach twists at the words, having a suspicion about what they mean. “That’s great,” he says faintly while feeling like he’s going to faint himself. It should be great if they have good news for him, so why does he feel like running back into the hut to hide?
Bucky doesn’t say anything at all for a minute, mouth pressed into a firm line. His expression looks grin, but when he sees Steve looking at him, it loosens. For his benefit, Steve is betting. Bucky has always been good at putting on a happy face. “If you’d give us a moment to clean up, we’ll be right behind you.” They do smell like farm animals still, after all. Steve doesn’t suppose that’s the sort of thing fit to go see the king.
Ayo bends her head in acknowledgement. “As you wish.”
Steve follows Bucky towards the hut, all while his head feels like his thoughts are caving in, but he can’t spiral for too long when Bucky grabs him by the shoulders and spins Steve to face him as soon as they step inside.
“Steve,” he says firmly, and the fear in Steve’s stomach ceases for the few seconds it takes for Bucky to speak. “Sweetheart. Stop whatever you’re thinking for now, okay? We don’t even know what they’re going to have to say.” He’s not technically lying, but it’s not the complete truth. They know what the answer to this situation was always supposed to be.
As usual with them, it was only a matter of time.
For the sake of not forcing Bucky to babysit him through yet another freak out, Steve takes in a shaky breath and nods. “I’m okay.” He’s not really sure he is, but they need to be on their way. He can pretend. He’s still good at that, even if he’s one day out of practice.
Bucky smiles reassuringly and squeezes his shoulder. “You’re okay,” he repeats, like he’s trying to get Steve to believe it.
It’s a nice try, but it doesn’t fully work. After that attempt, he turns away and pulls some of the spare clothes from the satchel he’d packed but not used earlier, tossing a clean shirt and some jeans rather than cargo pants at Steve while choosing a similar outfit for himself.
Steve has to hop a little to get into the jeans. Jesus. He hasn’t worn pants this tight since he was on stage having to wear actual tights. They end up being a little loose around the legs and too snug on the ass, but they don’t require a belt, so he accepts them as okay. By the time he has the henley Bucky had given him on to go with them, Bucky is already dressed and ready to go.
Steve almost stops him before they exit the hut to make sure he didn’t leave anything behind, but he doesn’t ask him. He just stops himself when the realization hits that he doesn’t have any things to bring with him at all. He doesn’t say anything about that, either.
Ayo is waiting as promised outside, and when she sees them approaching, she picks her spear up and seemingly gets ready to move. It’s right down to business, then. Steve makes a point to himself about not ruining the mood as they march up, but he doesn’t join in much when Bucky and Ayo strike a conversation up. Bucky asks about Aneka, who apparently is her partner. Romantically, from how the woman speaks of her. She says she’s doing fine, but is currently mad at her for besting her in a fight.
Steve can relate to that. He can’t count how many times he’d wanted to pitch a fit at Bucky for punching him down when teaching him how to try and hold his own in a fight while in the ring, but he’d give anything to be able to bring Bucky back with him to Goldie’s now. He’d throw every match if it meant it was with the older man.
He spends the entire walk up in silence. Bucky and Ayo are kind enough not to point out the lack of words, and by the time they reach the palace and she sees them off at the gates, the only six he speaks to her come out gravelly. “Thank you for the escort, ma’am.”
Bucky smiles and brings his hand to rest over the small of his back, stroking when he offers up thanks of his own. “We appreciate it.”
She nods her head. “It was no hardship. Please tell the king my orders are complete.”
And with that, she’s off, and the two of them are now left standing alone to walk inside and upstairs to what Steve feels like is going to seal his fate. He hopes he’s wrong. He doesn’t think he will be. Either way, he’s about to find out.
Bucky doesn’t remove his hand even when they make it through the doors and start towards the hallway that leads to Shuri’s lab. The touch is gentle and grounding, but even that can’t completely calm Steve’s nerves down. Bucky looks like he’s having some nerves of his own.
In contrast, when they finally set their sights on Shuri, she’s practically beaming. Her voice is just as bright. “Gentlemen,” she says, stepping around the table she was behind to come closer. T’Challa is standing quietly in the corner, hands clasped behind his back. “I have good news.”
Steve can already feel his stomach sinking, mouth drying up with words he doesn’t want to have to get out. “What is it?” he manages. He crosses both arms over his chest with his hands tucked under in the way Bucky always says looks like a hug he’s giving to himself.
It’s a good thing he is, because what Shuri says next makes him feel like the entire world is dropping out from under him once more.
She smiles and looks so proud Steve is almost ashamed of being positive, but all that drains away when she drops news on him far too heavy for her tone. “Congratulations, Captain,” she tells him. “Tomorrow you’ll be going home.”