My friend wanted a fluffy follow-up to That's What Life Is. I wasn't about to refuse.

Title comes from the same quote as That's What Life Is.

Disclaimer: I don't own Captain America.

"Dude, I can't run as fast as you can!" Sam yells, but Steve ignores him. It took two days to get to D.C., two of the longest days in Steve's life. He's been texting with Bucky the whole time, but he still can't quite shake the fear that he'll get to the river and no one will be there. He thinks Bucky is done running, but he has no way of knowing. He can't read Bucky through texts. He doesn't know if he can read Bucky at all anymore.

There's a figure standing on the edge of the river as Steve skids to a stop, spraying pebbles all over the place. He'd recognize that silhouette anywhere.

"Bucky!" Steve calls. The figure turns around.

Bucky's smile is different than the one Steve remembers; it's more tentative, less effortless. Steve's smile, on the other hand, feels about ready to split his face in half. "Hey, punk," Bucky replies, his voice slightly hesitant.

Steve flings himself forward, grabbing Bucky as tightly as he can. It's pretty damn tight. He distantly hears Sam reach them, but he's more focused on the way Bucky freezes for half a second, then tentatively wraps his real arm, his flesh-and-blood arm, around Steve's shoulders. He's as gentle as he would have been before Steve got the super-soldier serum, as if Steve is still a skinny asthmatic kid with no sense of self-preservation and a penchant for calling out bullies.

But he's not, and Bucky isn't the same guy who chased after him and protected him from the other kids' punches and patched him up when he refused to back down from a fight.

Bucky goes a little tense suddenly, and Steve follows his gaze to Sam. "That's Sam Wilson," he tells Bucky. "A friend of mine."

"He was there," Bucky says, his voice hoarse. "When I tried to complete my mission. When I failed to take out the target." He shakes his head slightly, as if to dislodge the thoughts. "When we were on the helicarrier."

"Yeah, Sam was there," Steve replies cautiously. He's suddenly realizing that maybe Bucky's recovery process isn't anywhere close to being over. "He's a friend."

The smile Bucky forces is a pale shadow of his normal one, but Steve appreciates that he's making an effort. "Hello," he says. Sam nods.

"Hey. Sam Wilson, like Steve said. You're Bucky Barnes?" Bucky nods. "I wrote a paper about you in high school. About your position in the Howling Commandos."

"Oh." Bucky blinks in surprise. "I-I went to the exhibit. In the Smithsonian. I think I remembered some of the things it mentioned." His eyes flicker over to Sam again. There's a tension in them Steve didn't see before Sam arrived.

Clearly, Sam can tell too. "I'm going to go park the car in an actual parking place," he tells Steve. "Cause your parking place was on the side of a road in the middle of no where, and I am not convinced the car is going to stay there long."

"Okay," Steve replies. Sam slips away. Bucky relaxes slightly when he's out of sight.

"He's a nice guy," Steve remarks. Bucky nods.

"I don't remember everything," he says suddenly, as if he's been bursting say it. "I don't know if I'm still the same Bucky Barnes you knew. But I remember some things. I-" Bucky's eyes flicker away from Steve for a moment. "Were we…together? Romantically?"

"Oh," Steve whispers, the memories he's tried his hardest not to think about flooding his mind. "Yes, yes, we were." And I'm so, so glad you remember, he doesn't add; he doesn't want to make Bucky feel pressured into anything.

"I remember kissing you," Bucky says, his voice a little shy. "I think it was nice."

"It was," Steve replies, his voice wistful.

"Could I…" Bucky's voice trails off. Steve looks up at him as Bucky closes his eyes. His posture changes slightly; when he opens his eyes again, he looks just like he used to, before the war. He can clearly call on the memories from the way he used to act, make it seem like nothing's changed. It sends a pang through Steve's heart. "Want a kiss?" he asks Steve, his voice casual and flirty, the way it always was before.

But Bucky isn't the same as he was before.

"I want a kiss," Steve replies slowly, "but I want one from you now, not the you that you used to be. Can you kiss me as you?"

"I'm not the same as the Bucky you loved," Bucky warns. Steve smiles, wrapping his arms around Bucky's neck, linking his fingers behind his head.

"That's okay," he replies. "I can love this Bucky too." He leans in slightly. Bucky slowly closes the distance between them.

Bucky doesn't feel quite the same. He doesn't taste quite the same either. But Steve's pretty sure he's changed too. But it's okay, because Bucky's home.

And now that Bucky's here, Steve feels like he's home too.