[ Things have been changing since the beginning of time. For Steve, things have been changing rapidly since 1943 and continue to do so each day. From the moment he found Bucky in that Hydra base, he'd known things had changed for his dearest friend and between them. Even now things change—they've gone from enemies to hesitant acquaintances (that part, if Steve's honest, was the hardest to deal with), to friends, and now this. Whatever it is, he's not going to label it. At least, not with anything other than utmost happiness. In the beginning it had been hard, but Steve's always been stubborn and he was stubborn enough to never give up on Bucky. He's not looking for the man he remembers from before the war, just like Steve can't be who he was before the war. It changed them, for better or for worse.
There's a million other ways that Steve would've had them end up like this, but he's not looking a gift horse in the mouth. He can't. He's got Bucky—real and whole and hale. There are more good days than bad ones lately and that's more than Steve could've dared to hope.
And being able to hear Bucky laugh like this plucks hard at Steve's heart. All at once it makes him want to cry out of sheer happiness and laugh right along with him. One he does, the other he doesn't. He laughs, of course, because he can't stop himself; it's infectious. It sounds so carefree that Steve wants to taste it.
He doesn't, though, since Bucky starts talking, and Steve becomes completely rapt. The sharpness of his own smile softens, then, and he turns his face to press a kiss to the palm of Bucky's hand. It's not even about the sex (though, to be fair, he enjoys that part quite a bit), the excitement that coils tight in his belly is just from being near Bucky.
Bracing himself on one arm, the other shifts so he can run his hand down Bucky's arm, brushing off a few stray rose petals along the way. There are some stuck in his hair now and Steve says nothing, does nothing; he likes it. Wrinkling his nose, Steve shakes his head. ]
Nah. [ He shifts himself into a better position, gently nudging one of Bucky's legs over so he can fit between them. The soft smile returns just before he ducks his head to press a quick kiss against Bucky's lips. ] You need your strength. Not gonna let you outta bed until we have to leave.
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There's a million other ways that Steve would've had them end up like this, but he's not looking a gift horse in the mouth. He can't. He's got Bucky—real and whole and hale. There are more good days than bad ones lately and that's more than Steve could've dared to hope.
And being able to hear Bucky laugh like this plucks hard at Steve's heart. All at once it makes him want to cry out of sheer happiness and laugh right along with him. One he does, the other he doesn't. He laughs, of course, because he can't stop himself; it's infectious. It sounds so carefree that Steve wants to taste it.
He doesn't, though, since Bucky starts talking, and Steve becomes completely rapt. The sharpness of his own smile softens, then, and he turns his face to press a kiss to the palm of Bucky's hand. It's not even about the sex (though, to be fair, he enjoys that part quite a bit), the excitement that coils tight in his belly is just from being near Bucky.
Bracing himself on one arm, the other shifts so he can run his hand down Bucky's arm, brushing off a few stray rose petals along the way. There are some stuck in his hair now and Steve says nothing, does nothing; he likes it. Wrinkling his nose, Steve shakes his head. ]
Nah. [ He shifts himself into a better position, gently nudging one of Bucky's legs over so he can fit between them. The soft smile returns just before he ducks his head to press a quick kiss against Bucky's lips. ] You need your strength. Not gonna let you outta bed until we have to leave.