Chapter 8
Steve was a reckless driver, especially when people messed with someone he loved.
Oh... oh.
It was an emotion he was terrified to name, because it was true.
And for all he knew, Bucky could be dead, his lifeless body limp on the floor-
No, don't you dare think like that Rogers.
It was incredibly stupid, not going in with backup. He could get himself killed.
But there was no time for that, no time for anything but Bucky.
Despite this awful predicament, despite being in a horrible position such as this, Steve laughed. A harsh, ugly and cold sound that held no mirth or humor, just pain. He was an idiot, of course people were out to get him, of course people would try to hurt him. He should've protected Bucky with every fibre of his being, because Bucky didn't deserve this. Just thinking about what they were doing to him made Steve jerk the car fiercely, almost driving head first into a tall metal pole, what the fuck is that doing in the middle of the road?
He somehow managed to get to the location without running some poor old lady over, hastily parking somewhere and getting out the car.
Moving quickly and efficiently, Steve got into the building, carefully dodging or disabling the security cameras. He stalked through the large hallways and quietly took out as many Hydra as possible, leaving a trail of bodies behind him.
"Scream pretty boy, scream!"
Loud shouts were muffled by the obnoxiously large metal door. Steve's stomache churned with worry. Pretty boy, Bucky.
He took deep breathes, readying himself for the number of men that would attack. Then with all his strength he smashed into the door, bursting it open.
Bucky was sat in some sort of medieval death chair, strapped in by thick rope. He was shirtless, the mottled bruises and scratches there for everyone to see. The brunette was in obvious agony, biting his plush lips hard enough to draw blood; surrounding him were a group of men that looked extremely satisfied with the torture they put him through, and the blonde opened the door just in time to see one of the agents slapping Bucky hard across the face.
Steve saw red.
It took a couple of seconds for the men to realise they had an intruder, then the room erupted into chaos.
Some of them had guns -pistols and rifles- some had knives. Steve met every blow they hit, every stab, punch, kick. His body was on autopilot, and all he could think about was Bucky being tied to that godawful chair. Bucky, who still looked beautiful even when hurt. Bucky, who was incredibly brave.
Suddenly Steve was panting harshly, another trail of bodies decorating the concrete floor.
"Mister Rogers, how lovely to see you."
Then he looked up. Standing behind Bucky was a short old man. Nothing about him looked particularly terrifying: he was small, body brittle from age. But his eyes were incredibly unsettling, as if he enjoyed Steve seeing beating his men.
"I wouldn't take another step if I were you", said the old man. Then he roughly grabbed Bucky by the neck, pressing a gun onto the side of his head.
"Unless you want him dead."
And just before Steve could move a muscle, he heard the familiar whoosh of a bullet fly past his ear, and soon it was neatly embedded into the man's forehead; his body went completely slack as he fell to the ground, the clattering sound of the gun ricocheting of the brick walls.
The blonde span around, preparing himself to protect the man behind him.
"You're an idiot, you know that Rogers?"
Steve blinked a few times in utter confusion. What?
Standing in the door way was Natasha, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. Behind her was Clint, Thor, Bruce, Tony and Sam. All clad in their Avengers attire, staring at Steve like disappointed parents.
"Really Steve?" Sam tutted. "I mean, I knew you were reckless, just not this reckless."
Then a chorus of muttered agreements.
"Amen to that."
"Yup."
"Stupid Rogers."
Steve grinned, he loved his friends.
But then he remembered who he was here for, and ran towards Bucky.
The brunette looked gaunt, his eyes screwed shut and he panted heavily. The blonde gently untied his hands, cradling him ever so gently.
"Shush, I'm here baby", he reassured Bucky through sobs. "I'm here."
***
They managed to get Bucky to a local hospital, patching up his wounds. But Steve refused to leave his side.
Bucky spent 3 days there before Steve took him home. Taking care of him every step of the way: putting on his seat belt for him, cooking and feeding him, reading to him.
"What do you think you're doing?" Steve asked in outrage.
Bucky laughed. "It's ok Steve, I can walk you know."
The blonde looked exasperated, but there was a smile on his face.
"Just be careful sweetheart, ok?"
Bucky's heart ached at how easily the endearment rolled of Steve's tongue, and rolled his eyes fondly.
"I will, now move that tank you call a body of yours out the way so I can get into the kitchen."
Steve laughed, a bright happy sound filling his apartment.
"Fine", he said whilst kissing Bucky's forehead.
***
Steve couldn't stop staring.
He studied Bucky's face like his life depended on it: the beautiful blue-gray eyes, the way they crinkled at the corners, how his eyebrows furrowed when he was flustered.
"What are you staring at?" Bucky said in between laughs.
"The most gorgeous man alive."
Bucky flushed. It was pretty. He was so pretty. "Shut up, you adorable sap."
"Ok." Steve replied happily. Then he walked over to the sofa and planted himself next to Bucky. Continuing to stare at him.
***
Bucky woke up to an empty bed.
It was warm, a dent on the other side were Steve should be-
He raced down the hall in seconds flat, his heart pounding.
"Hey-oof."
Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve's waist. Steve hugged him back, strong, gentle arms trapping him in an overwhelming amount of happiness.
They don't let go for the longest time.
***
Bucky watched as Steve avidly stared at the TV. His lashes turning to gold in the sunlight.
"Did you know an ostrich's eye is bigger than it's brain?"
"No Stevie", Buck said, not even bothering to hide his dorky smile. "I didn't."
Bucky put down his book and walked towards Steve, climbing into his lap. The blonde automatically wrapped his hands around his waist, mindful of the scrapes and bruises.
"Hey" Steve said.
"Hi", Bucky breathlessly replied.
The larger man chuckled. "Is there a problem?"
"Well, my lip's been feeling a little weird", he paused to flutter his lashes and pout his lips.
"Kiss it better?"
Steve grinned, a pure, jubilant splitting of his pink lips. Then he gently pushed Bucky back, his body lying on the couch as Steve crawled over him. He kissed him everywhere: his cheeks, forehead, neck, the spot behind his ear, Bucky took them all with relish.
"My lips Steve, my lips!" Bucky said impatiently.
"Jerk." Steve quipped.
"Punk."
"Asshole."
"Reckless idiot-"
Steve grabbed him by the wrists, gently pinning him down, and presses his lips against Bucky's. The kiss seemed to last a lifetime, deep and slow and loving. Bucky wouldn't have it any other way.
"I love you", he blurted out, breaking the kiss.
Steve's face did a funny thing, eyebrows briefly raised in shock, but smiling dopily. "Took you long enough."
Before Bucky could squawk in outrage, Steve added. "I love you too."
And back to the kissing it was.