Bucky was leaning against the doorframe to the living room, watching the blond man on the couch run a pencil over the page of the sketchbook on his lap.
The window broke the morning light into a kaleidoscope of a million colours, illuminating the room, bathing it in warmth and safety and home.
The radio was quietly playing in the background.
And Bucky found himself captivated by the sheer beauty.
And Bucky’s heart swelled with emotions he couldn’t even name.
And Bucky remembered.
Oh my precious ember burning, my sweet glowing light
From the moment I first saw you I was yours and you were mine
Deep down we both knew you were trouble by design
And the echo of my mother's words, "baby don't you play with fire."
I was always playing the part: first love only set by a spark
There was no way changing my mind
He’d been six the first time he had met Steve.
(Hi, I’m Steve)
(I know, I’m Bucky)
His mum had always warned him of ‘that Rogers fella’ because ‘that boy is trouble, James’, the problem was, Bucky had always loved a challenge and Steve…he had been the greatest of them all. Small and sickly and strong and stubborn. He had been an unstoppable force and an immovable object both at the same time.
‘Once you start running, they’ll never let you stop’ Steve’s mum had always said and Steve…Steve had only ever run headfirst into the fights, never away from them. And Bucky had always followed. Would always follow.
(No, not without you)
(I’m with you ‘til the end of the line)
He’d been six the first time he had met Steve, and he should have known…
Now I'm under your spell, trapped in a lie
Shouldn't have stood that close to the fire
No turning back, nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide – it’s too late to say goodbye
Push back from my heart, wish we could go back to the start,
But oh my God is this real? No more time
It's too late, It's too late to say goodbye
The thing about Steven Grant Rogers was that you either loved or hated him.
There was no in-between.
No maybe.
No almost.
There was yes and no, black and white, hot and cold.
There was no compromise and no negotiation.
All or nothing.
Now, watching Steve draw, it was almost blinding how bright he burned, even after all this time, after sickness and cold, hard winters, after war and death, after ice and snow…Steve was the sun and the moon and the stars above and the centre of the universe, and Bucky was his orbit.
The thing about Steven Grant Rogers was that you either loved or hated him, and Bucky? Bucky had always loved him the most.
I can hear the sounds of sirens circling around
Forced to watch the ashes floating, softly drifting to the ground
Deep down we both knew it was trouble by design
And the echo of my mother's words, "baby don't you play with fire."
I was always playing the part: first love only set by a spark
There was no way changing my mind
He had been sixteen the first time they had kissed.
Shy and fearful.
Trembling hands, rapidly beating hearts, hitching breaths.
(I’m gonna do something stupid.)
(You always do somethin’ stupid.)
Sweet smiles, sparkling eyes, relieved sighs.
And laugher.
Deep and full and earnest.
(I think I’m love with you.)
He had been sixteen the first time they had kissed, and Bucky still remembered the feeling of that first touch to his lips.
After all the dust has settled, we can settle down
Just the two of us forever, no one else around
No one else around
Around
Now I'm under your spell, trapped in a lie
Shouldn't have stood that close to the fire
No turning back, nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide; it's too late to say goodbye
Push back from my heart, wish we go back to the start
But oh my God, no escape, no more time
It's too late, it's too late, it's too late to say goodbye
Bucky was leaning against the doorframe to the living room, watching the blonde man on the couch run a pencil over the page of the sketchbook on his lap.
He smiled.
Steve was a work of beauty, a piece of art, an Angel descended from Heaven.
Bright blue eyes looked up and found him, fixated him, drew him closer and closer and closer –
Hypnotized.
So much had happened between them, to them, around them. They had lost and found each other and themselves. Lived and fought and died and lived again.
And they had finally arrived here, side by side.
Home.
(I love you too, Jerk)