Wartime was a very different time. You almost experienced the flip side of the humankind more than what the treasures of man truly are. Mothers losing sons, lovers losing each other. The feeling of the people you love and even yourself slowly slipping through your fingers away from you never to be seen again.
Though the halls are crowded in one of the many headquarters for the special unit of the allied forces, the echo with the same heavy clicks that war carries through the mind of the young soldiers that return home. There’s a swiftness to the number of people charging throughout the building, never running into one and another yet they almost are not aware of the presence of the other. Hunched over, overrun, and overstressed politicians and scientists and generals haunt the place. There standing bright in red lipstick with two grown men in her shadow is none other than Peggy Carter. The leads them through the building into the back, as they look around at what the play writers look like behind the play. The two men, fresh off the field with no injuries other than the ruins of their relationship hanging by a thread.
“Good afternoon, is Mr. Stark in?” Peggy asks the woman who sits at a small desk by the door, her lamp, and her notes seemingly keeping her company.
“Yes, he’s been expecting you,” she ogles at the men standing before her; the savior himself, Captain America as one of them. Peggy smiles at her politely before turning to the door and pushing it open, her face stilling and becoming stone as she does so.
Inside the door is a large room with a squirrely young man buzzing around a table as the others saunter around in their lab coats. The keeps jumping from item to item that lays on the table before Peggy clears her throat.
“Ah, it's America's favorite boy!” He says smiling up at the three.
“Howard,” Steve nods a greeting to him.
“And Ms. Carter, still waiting on that fondue,” he casts a quick wink at her and she ignores it.
“This is Sergeant James Barnes,” she says and Bucky offers his hand.
“Call me Bucky.”
“Pleasure,” Howard leans in with a cheeky grin before he shakes his hand. “What can I do for you, James,” he says leaning back casually with just enough juxtaposition that Bucky, who’s always swift on his feet, freezes in place. He stares at him, head cocked to the side, as his heart skips a beat.
“We're looking for armor and weapons that can be best fitted to Sergeant Barnes' abilities. Captain Rogers is building a group of men for combat missions and each man needs to be fitted with what can fit their abilities to the best. Sergeant Barnes here is his right-hand man,” she explains to him.
“You're his right hand,” Howard slowly repeats looking him up and down before turning back to the others. “Very well, I think that I might be able to pull something together. Why don't you meet me tonight so we can talk more about it.”
“Y-yeah,” Bucky agrees and Steve looks at him, lips separated ready to protest.
“Alrighty then. I'll be waiting.” Howard says cheekily as he and Steve continue to stare at Bucky. Peggy, who is also looking at him, takes notice of the other two men. She bounces back and forth, processing the unusual interaction.
“Wonderful,” she finally breaks through the tension. “I'm sure that you have other important business to attend to. We better get going.”
“Thanks a lot, Howard,” Steve says ready to leave.
“I'll see you tonight then?” Howard continues to ignore him as he shakes Bucky's hand again.
“Of course,” Bucky grins as their hands linger together. They leave the room and pass the secretary who continues to stare at them.
“Well, that was... nice of Mr. Stark,” Peggy says once they are away from the lab and back into the dullness of the gray halls with the clicking of her heels leading them.
“Yeah, that was,” Steve shoots a look at Bucky, “nice of him.”
“It might take a while,” he looks at Steve challenging him, “don't wait up for dinner.”
Peggy stares up at the two men before looking down. “Alright boys,” she gets their attention, “I have other matters to attend to.” She takes off down the hall with her head and shoulders straight.
They take a ride from one of the drivers back to the temporary place that was provided for them. The short ride, filled with tension, was almost too much to handle. Bucky contemplated for a moment, just jumping out the car, but he knows what he’s in for. When they arrive at their place, they get out and thank the driver before making their way up to their apartment on the second floor, Bucky had taken notice that there is a luxury in a war when you are fighting alongside Captain America.
Steve, America’s Goodboy in question, pushes through the front door and passes through to the kitchen. Bucky gently closes the door before following him to the kitchen. He leans his head against the door frame, “Are you mad at me?”
“Yeah, Buck. I kind of am,” Steve says taking a glass from the cabinet and filling it in the sink.
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don't.” He pushes himself forward from the door. “For all, I am concerned I am going to a business meeting.” Steve scoffs.
“And what is going to happen at this 'business meeting?'” he asks.
“Don't worry, you still have Ms. Carter to fondue with.”
“You leave her out of this,” Steve points a steady finger at him.
“How do I leave her out of this?” Bucky pushes his finger away. “You know what this is about and you know that she is a part of this.”
“Well, I'm sorry that I can find a girl,” he taunts. Bucky head’s snaps back, his face contorted in disgust.
“Fuck you, Steve Rogers.” He looks away shaking his head.
“You would if you could, Buck.” This time Bucky scoffs before he storms out of the kitchen and to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He drops to the bed, letting the springs creak under him, unbelieving of what he just said. He listens for a few minutes before hearing the other walk across the apartment to his room and shutting the door.
He falls back flat on his back. He remembers when they were kids, the first time he stayed the night at the Rogers’ house he was laying on the couch in the living room tilting his head up in the most uncomfortable position. Steve’s room had been offset from the living room and when the door was opened you could just barely see his little blond head poking out from the covers. He was just about to go to sleep before he heard him sit up in bed.
“Bucky?” he whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to lay in here?”
“Sure.” So his little legs waddled to his bedroom, holding the small blanket he brought over from his house in his arms. He slept with Steve that night in his bed. They used to do that a lot when they were little. As time went on things changed, the apartment, the bed, themselves. Some nights they slept in the same bed together and some nights they didn’t. Now they lie in separate beds, in separate rooms, wanting two things.
Later that night, Bucky makes his way through the less dense office, filled with the same ghostly feeling of dread. Before leaving the apartment he had made sure that Steve heard him getting ready and heard him close the door, to let him know that he was serious about this. Now he was a little less confident about leaving Steve angry and alone like that.
“Good evening,” he says charmingly to the secretary by the door. It’s a different one than before, this one looking more upset and angry about her job. “Is Howard here?”
Just then the door opened up to none other than Howard Stark himself. “Ah, yes, James,” he says beaming at him before opening the door wider, “I’ve been expecting you.” Bucky nods a curt thank you to the secretary before taking Howard’s welcome. “Oh, and Mildred, have the rest of the night off.” She sends a glance between the two before abruptly standing up and leaving. He shuts the door and turns towards Bucky.
“Thank you for meeting me tonight.”
“No worries, I did some digging and I think I found some things that would be of interest to you.” He references his notes on the table. They are covered with scribbles and doodles with little antidotes. They hover over the long table with different materials and guns laid about. Howard presents each idea with such vigor that Bucky can’t say no.
“As you see, this would be most suited for long-range,” his voice tapers off and Bucky looks up at him. “I'm sorry, but have we met before?”
“I don't think so, I'm just from Brooklyn.”
“Why don't you tell me a little about yourself,” he offers, crossing his arms and tilting his head. Bucky leans back against the table looking at him.
“I grew up in Brooklyn with three siblings and Steve. We met in grade school-”
“I don't want to hear about Steve Rogers and certainly not Captain America. I just want to hear about James Barnes. What's a man like you doing in a place like this?” He prompts. Bucky looks him in the eyes, struggling to find words. “And, by God, has anyone ever told you what magnificent eyes you have?”
Bucky looks at him for a heartbeat before pushing himself off of the table and grabbing him by the suspenders. He pushes him to the nearest wall as he kisses him. Bucky pushes down the heavy feeling in his chest as he kisses the other’s neck. Howard, in return, moans as he runs his hands down his back before reaching his ass.
“Sargent Barnes,” he pulls away as Bucky looks up at him. “What would you say if we took this someplace else?” he whispers into his ear.
His stomach drops and he nods his head, “lets go.”
They make it through the deserted office before being met by a car waiting outside. Once they are inside Howards tells his driver where to go and not to mind the backseat on the way. They sit in the back of the dark car as the driver takes off down the empty streets.
Howard places his hand on Bucky’s tight, rubbing circles higher and higher as he leans up and kisses him on the neck. His eyes snap to the driver in front of them, but his black hat does not move as he doesn’t seem to take notice of their actions. Slowly, Bucky leans his head to the side trying to open up his neck to more kisses as he spreads his legs wider. Howard starts gently sucking and nipping at his skin on his collarbone as he starts to unbutton his shirt. It should feel good and he wants it to feel good, but it feels so god awfully wrong. When Howard places his hand on his crotch his eyes snap open and he grabs his wrist.
He stops kissing his neck and Bucky blurts out, “I can’t do this.”
“What’s wrong? Afraid of being a queer?” he says smugly as he kisses the part behind his ear.
“No, it’s, uh, not that.” He feels the other hesitate.
“Of course,” he backs off of him finally, sharply pulling his hands away. “I knew it. It’s him isn’t it?” When Bucky doesn’t answer he spats out a harsh laugh. “Of course,” he pulls himself up to talk to the driver, “just take a right at the next corner and just straight down the road until the next corner.”
He leans back slowly into his seat, not looking at Bucky who stares out of shame and guilt. The silence rings in Bucky’s ears as he tries reading the other’s thoughts. “He isn’t yours, you know that. Even if he was before, he isn’t now. She has him. It’s best if you understand this right now.” He shakes his head, “it’s actually kind of sad that you can’t accept this fact for either of you two. Especially when it’s better for him.” Bucky drops his eyes to his lap. “You can’t have a sweetheart in war, especially when you’re fighting with ‘em.”
The driver pulls up along the curb in front of the apartment. “Listen, when you decide that he isn’t worth it, you know where to find me,” his eyes flicker over Bucky who does not give a reaction. “Goodnight, Sergeant Barnes.”
He steps out of the car with his head spinning as the driver speeds off down the dark road leaving him in silence. He buttons the top button of his shirt as he tries putting himself back together, trying not to lose what little he had going for him up until that point. He stares up at the brown building and up to the window that he supposes is Steve’s, dreading returning back, but also wanting nothing more to be with Steve. By the time he makes it to the front door, his legs are heavy and he has no idea what to expect behind those doors.
He opens it to see Steve sitting on the sofa, softly sketching in his book before he looks up at him. “Buck,” Steve starts as he tosses the book aside, but is interrupted by the full-grown man as he drops to the floor and buries his head in his lap. “Bucky?” he asks the brunet.
“I can't do it, Steve, I can't give you what you want,” he can tell by his muffled voice that he is crying. “I'm a queer,” he says looking up at Steve, eyes, and face blotched red. This is the first time he said it, the first time either of them had explicitly said it. Steve joins him on the floor and places a steadying hand on his shoulder. “I can't find a nice dame like Peggy. I can't because I'm a fairy and I'm in love with you.” Steve pulls him into a hug.
“Buck, it’s alright.”
“No, Steve did you hear me? I’m a- I’m a fa-”
“No, Buck. I love you too.”
“Don't. You don't have to do that,” he pulls away from him. “You don't deserve this. Living in fear every day of your life as we did back in Brooklyn. You deserve to get married and to hold hands in public and to live life.”
“You do too.”
“Not if I am ruining yours. I'm not worth it, Steve Rogers.” Steve doesn't know what to do. So he kisses him. He kisses him through tears and sadness. His face is warm and it’s messy, but he kisses him like it's the first time and he kisses him like it's the last because, for all they know, it is.
“Stay with me, Bucky,” Steve says, clenching his eyes shut as he holds his forehead to the other. “Stay by my side no matter what and we can figure out the rest later. We’ll get through it together” Bucky nods as he kisses Steve once again.
He lets him cry it out on the floor in his arms until he’s reduced to a heap of warm limbs across him. “Let's go to bed, Buck,” he says, standing before pulling the other one up.
Steve leads him to his room, closing the door behind him as he kisses him again. He strips them from their shirts before kissing him again on the chest, right over his heart. They both change into a pair of Steve’s army supplied pajamas before laying down together. They lie like they did those nights when they were kids. Steve wrapped in Bucky arms as he swears in his mind to protect him from anything that the world can throw at them. He kisses the back of his neck so lightly that the other isn't sure if it actually happened. They listen to the sound of the storm coming, it’s rain slowly drizzling over the roof and a few strikes of lightning lights up the sky.
“You don't have to love me back,” Bucky whispers into the back of his neck. “It's alright that you love her. Maybe you can love both, but I want you to know that it's alright.”
Steve pulls their laced hands up from his stomach to his lips as he kisses the back of Bucky’s, wishing he could give him an ounce of what he wants.
“I'll love you 'til the end of the line.”