"I went for your throat, James, I-"
"You were doing what you thought was right, doll. I don't blame you, you know that."
"I could've killed you, I… I wanted to," he says, and his expression just reads terror. The look on his face tells Bucky he's afraid of himself at this point.
But it's been so long since Vienna. It's been so long since that day and Bucky knows that maybe this will take even longer than it's been.
When he thinks about it, he knows. He knows that T'Challa probably didn't even think, acted on instinct. He knows that T'Challa wasn't wrong to come after him, knows that all the evidence did in fact point to him, even though they all know Bucky, in his right mind, would never do such a thing.
"Look at me, c'mere," Bucky pulls T'Challa into his lap and holds his face in his hands, T'Challa's own wrapping around his arms.
"You know, right?" Bucky says and it's soft, so soft and T'Challa can't think of any way that he can deserve this. Not after how reckless he'd let himself be.
T'Challa nods, but Bucky tilts his head and whispers, "look at me," and it's almost too much. Blue eyes shining brighter than he thinks the sun ever could, boring into his own but there's no fear. There's love and something else T'Challa can't quite place, and he thinks that Bucky might be the only person in the whole world that could teach him.
"Tell me you know," he says, so gentle, thumbs caressing T'Challa's cheeks. "Tell me, baby."
"I know, James."
"And what's that you know, doll?" Bucky asks, a playful smile on his face.
"You are ridiculous," T'Challa says breathily, but his chest feels warm and Bucky's thumbs haven't stopped and so he says, "I know that it's not my fault. I know that I shouldn't blame myself for - for what I did."
“Good,” Bucky breathes into his neck, nosing up to his lips. “So good, doll,” and T’Challa kisses him breathless.
“Baby,” Bucky says, trying to get T’Challa to stop kissing him and just listen.
T’Challa leaves a few lingering kisses on Bucky’s cheeks, and his nose before he says, so quietly it’s nearly a whisper, “what more must you lecture me about, old man?”
Bucky lets out a shocked little gasp and T’Challa’s whole face lights up, falling back onto the bed with laughter.
Bucky takes his hands and pulls him back up, cups his cheek again, and rubs their noses together. “I love you, baby. Do you know that?”
T’Challa nods.
“Yeah,” Bucky says. “I love you so much. And if I hadn’t met you when you were trying to kill me, I never woulda found that love. So, really, it’s your recklessness that we have to thank,” he says and pokes T’Challa’s cheek.
“You are absolutely the worst, James,” he deadpans.
“And?” Bucky says, amused, his eyebrows raised.
“And I love you too much.”