Chapter Text
“Here, Buck,” it’s a gentle gesture really, the man leaning down momentarily to offer a cup of hot cocoa to his friend. He sees that light in Bucky’s eyes for a moment that makes him smile, but he keeps that smile hidden for a moment. He didn’t wanna startle the poor guy. It was like working around a deer, eyes always big like he’d been caught in headlights.
“Thanks,” the voice replies, no more than a whisper.
A voice so used to being quiet for so long.
“You don’t have to say thanks, it’s not a big deal, Buck.”
“I know.”
There’s a moment where Steve straightens up and he just stands there, lips parted in a silent question before he decides against it. Clearing his throat, Steve returns to the kitchen and peers down at his own mug of hot chocolate. God, simple things like this were so uncommon and unthought of now that Steve could feel his limbs shaking. He hadn’t felt like this since Bucky first asked him to a double date. He didn’t know the first things about girls and he had been shaking like a damn leaf.
This was a different kind of nervousness really. Bucky could bolt in the three seconds and he’d be left there, dazed and confused. He trusted Bucky though...Trusted he would understand that he was already walking on eggshells around him. It almost looked like he did when Bucky would smile up at him, or he would thank him no matter how many times Steve would tell him not to.
Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Steve decided he could return to the living room now. Back to Bucky. His Bucky.
“How’s the cocoa?” Steve calls lightly, fingers wrapped around his own mug almost protectively.
“ Good ,” Bucky hums back, his mug on the coffee table beside him and a new book in his hand already. “You drew all these?” The male asks, holding up Steve’s art journal. Steve feels his cheeks flush as he joins Bucky on the floor, moving a pillow to the side for a moment to situate himself.
“Yeah--” Steve starts, feeling embarrassed that Bucky had found his sketch pad so easily. Kinda made him realize that Bucky knew him, knew where he kept things. “--It’s just... old. ” He chuckles and for a moment things feel nice. They feel safe and...and like home .
“Hey, Buck. I got an idea…Get up?” He watches as Bucky flips through a few more pages before that sketch book was safely placed on the coffee table and the man moves to the couch, eyes on Steve. Steve takes a moment before rushing off to his bedroom and tugging the big blanket to the living room. He pushes the coffee table aside, watching the marshmallows in the hot liquid bounce and rock in the mug almost precariously, as if it were going to somehow leap from the mug.
Spreading out the blanket, Steve flattens it down and moves to retrieve the pillows from the bedrooms and laying them on the floor to make a pretty pathetic pillow fort. Thinking for a moment, Steve gets Bucky to stand off to the side and he pushes the two couches close together. Pulling the blanket up, he drapes it across the couches and shoves it down, throwing the pillow on top. Steve pushes the couches together the rest of the way and spreads the pillows out before inviting Bucky to the odd ‘pillow bed.’
“Look--uh, we can just...relax, don’t gotta talk,” Steve urges when at first Bucky seems skeptical. Bucky takes a moment to assess this situation, eyes glancing to the window and then to Steve, deciding to take his hot chocolate over, Bucky climbs onto the combined couches and scoots into the corner of it all.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Steve smiles and moves off to retrieve a few things, laying them on the couches near Bucky. He hopes the other male will be interested in the new items and only pouts a little when Bucky takes little to no interest in them.
“Hey, Buck...Look.” He urges, nodding to the books. Leaving Bucky alone for a little, Steve grabs a few smaller blankets, laying them in the center of the couches before he crawls into the odd couch bed, mug in hand. “Those are more recent...Thought you’d like them better.”
Bucky nods his thanks, handing Steve the mug before letting his thumb run along the edge of the book in his hand, eyes scanning the cover for a few long seconds. Finally, he opens it and begins to turn the pages, studying each page and stopping on the most recent photo. It’s of him asleep, soft curls of hair falling down over his face and looking more than peaceful. He didn’t see that in the mirror, ever. He saw the hardened expression that had settled onto his face after years and years of...of that place.
Steve smiles and takes a drink of hot chocolate from his own mug, watching Bucky. His cheeks flush when he catches Bucky looking at his recent drawing. He’d forgotten about that one…”Oh, hey--” Steve clears his throat, catching the unease in Bucky’s eyes and wanting to fix it almost immediately. He isn’t sure what he’d done, but he would try his damn best to fix it. For Bucky.
He sets his mug in his lap, leg curling close to himself to keep it steady before he’s reaching out for Bucky, hand resting lightly on his shoulder and squeezing. “It’s okay, Buck...It’s...good, hm? You’re safe here,” a sad smile settles onto his face and Bucky nods for a short moment, hands reaching for the next notebook.
“Yeah, just...I don’t think that could be me...he’s too attractive,” he jokes, a smile temporarily lighting up Bucky’s face.
“If that’s not you, then I gotta say it can’t be anything else but an angel.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I’m just saying the truth.”
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It goes on like this for most of the night, Bucky endlessly awake and draining both his and Steve’s mugs of cocoa in no time once they were able to open up again. Life was getting simple and--and Steve was feeling old , something he was used to after waking up in the damn ‘age of technology.’ It was almost 11:30 and Steve was tired. Bucky seemed to be running on some sort of never ending supply of energy and Steve didn’t know how he did it. Once he got Bucky talking, he wouldn’t ever stop it seemed.
Not like he was complaining. They had seventy years to catch up on and he wasn’t about to stop him.
They ended up laying out in their makeshift bed, the two of them staring up at the dark ceiling, each with dopey smiles on their faces.
“You know, I don’t think it’s fair that you can draw and I can’t,” Bucky muses lightly, eyes closed after drawing the blanket up over him.
“No? Well, I gotta one up you somehow,” Steve laughs, head turning to watch Bucky sigh, another smile plastered on both of their faces.
“Hey...Buck?”
“Yeah, Steve?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For just bein’ here.”
“Well--I meant what I said Steve,” Bucky hums, eyes opening and head turning to look at Steve finally, their gaze meeting. “I’m with ya ‘til the end of the line.”