"Please tell me that was the last of them!" Jim complained as he hauled the last of the heavy boxes up the twelve flights of stairs to his friend's new apartment.

"Quit your whining." Bucky shot back at his old war-buddy. "Gabe and Frenchie hauled up the all the furniture and Dum Dum carried twice as many boxes as you." The youngest member of their group pointed out.

"Yeah, well, what about you?" Jim retaliated.

"What about me?" Bucky asked.

"What were you doing while the rest of us were doing all the heavy lifting?" Jim clarified.

Bucky simply arched an eyebrow and brought the doughnut in his hand to his mouth, taking a healthy sized bite before chewing slowly, all the while staring at his Asian-American friend, who narrowed his eyes.

"I was supervising." Bucky answered at last, after he had swallowed the mouthful of pastry, smiling broadly at his friend. Before Jim could come up with some sort of clever retort, Frenchie, Gabe and Dum Dum exited the open doorway of the apartment, coming over to lean against the banister that overlooked the central staircase of the building.

"Where's Monty?" Gabe asked, leaning with his back to the banister, bottle of beer in his hand, similar to both Frenchie and Dum Dum.

"Trying to make time with that nurse two floors down." Jim informed them, picking up the box once again and taking it into the apartment, grabbing his own bottle before coming back out into the hallway to watch the scene below with his friends. "Last I saw, she looked like she was about to snap him in half."

"You think 'e can 'andle eet?" Frenchie asked, his accent still incredibly thick after all these years. All five of them leaned over the railing to look down at their friend and his "flirting technique."

"Twenty bucks says she smacks him in the next ten minutes." Jim wagered.

"Thirty says in the next five." Gabe raised the stakes.

"Oui." Frenchie agreed to the terms.

"Hell, I just wanna see him get hit." Dum Dum crossed his arms and rest his chin upon them as he watched the scene below, bottle of beer dangling from his fingers.

"Fifty says she doesn't hit him at all." Bucky raised the stakes even higher. "I've talked to her before. She seems too nice to hit somebody." All five once again looked down to watch their friend's "suave" attempts at wooing yet another young lady. As they waited to see who would win the bet, the door across the stairwell opened, exactly opposite Bucky's, revealing, by far, one of the hottest guys Bucky had ever seen. Dude was ripped! Like he'd been carved out of sun-bronzed marble by one of the great artists of the Renaissance. And just to accentuate all those muscles (and make Bucky's pants even tighter), the Adonis was dripping wet, probably fresh out of the shower, the glistening droplets of moisture running down the cut lines of his arms and torso. The shower bit would probably also explain the towel. But did this specimen of male perfection wear it around his hips like a normal person? No. He had it clutched in one hand, just covering up his family jewels, leaving the rest to dangle between those impressive thighs.

This had the added effect of not interrupting the flow of skin up the length of his body and really, Bucky's mouth was practically salivating at the length of skin from his thigh to his obliques. The hand clutching the towel drew the eye up those massive arms (bigger than some of the legs Bucky had seen on some people), across a deep chest and pair of shoulders broad enough to barely fit through the door frame, and eventually landing on a face that was boyishly handsome.

Oh, is this the face that launched a thousand ships? Spring blue eyes sparkled in an almost perfectly symmetrical face, once that was topped with dirty blond hair slicked back from his face with moisture. As some of that moisture dripped onto his face, he brought his free hand up to wring out the excess moisture from his hair, arching his back and making his body one long, tantalizing, muscled line.

Seriously? He was doing this on purpose.

Shaking the wetness from his hand, he bent over and retrieved the rolled up newspaper sitting on his doormat. Straightening up, he looked across the open stairs at his new neighbor and his friends, nodding with a boyish smile and raising the hand with the paper in it (thankfully) and waved.

"Howdy, neighbor." the hunk smiled brightly, receiving several "hellos" from Bucky's friends, while Bucky himself just stood there, his brain still trying to process the sheer amount of skin and muscle standing before him. When he didn't say anything for a noticeable amount of time, Dum Dum "accidentally" bumped into his friend, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Hi." Bucky said back lamely. His neighbor flashed another brilliant smile before backing into his apartment, turning around and flashing the men a glimpse of the world's most perfect ass before one of those long legs kicked the door closed behind him. Bucky just continued to stand there, staring at the place his neighbor had just been, not really comprehending what had just happened.

"Smooth, Barnes. Real smooth." Gabe mocked his friend good-naturedly. When everything finally caught up with the front of his brain, Bucky felt his cheeks heat up while his friends did their best to not laugh openly in front of him. He was so busy fighting the flush rising in his cheeks the he completely missed the moment when he lost the bet. Two floors down, Monty was on his ass, clutching his nose and staring frightfully up at the woman in pink scrubs towering over him, her fist still raised and a murderous look on her face.

And that's how Bucky met his new neighbor.

- ONE WEEK -

It was almost a full week later that Bucky saw his neighbor again.

Since being discharged from the military, Bucky had found it difficult to break the sleeping habits he'd picked up while in the army. So every day, before the sun decided to grace the world with its warming presence, Bucky was up and wide awake. With nothing better to do during these extra hours, he put them to good use by unpacking all of his belongings and setting up his apartment the way he wanted. With all his pictures out and hung, and all the furniture just the way he wanted it, not to mention the kitchen fully stocked, Bucky decided that today would be the day he cleaned all of the civilian clothes he hadn't worn in quite some time.

Making the twelve floor treck to the basement, Bucky aired out his old clothes and cleaned them all, separating them afterward into things he would wear and things he wouldn't. He would be taking the second pile to the Salvation Army later that week. Two hours after he had started, Bucky hauled his last basket of freshly laundered clothes up the many steps to his apartment. When he finally reached his floor, he was met with the sight of his god-like neighbor and a dark-skinned man bearing an equally impressive and muscular physique, both of them in running clothes and soaked with perspiration. As he watched, his neighbor pulled up the hem of his darkened gray shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, revealing those cut abs glistening with moisture, just begging Bucky to clean them... with his tongue.

Shaking his head to rid himself of these thoughts, he brought the laundry basket in his hands down to cover the "man-reaction" he was having in his sweatpants. Taking a deep breath and willing his erection down, Bucky climbed the last few steps and stepped onto the landing where his apartment was. The blond immediately spotted him over his friend's broad shoulder, dropping his shirt to cover his abs once again.

"Howdy, neighbor." he waved at Bucky, smiling at his neighbor despite the ungodly hour.

"Hey." Bucky responded in a more appropriate amount of time, this time around.

"I never properly introduced myself the other day."

"Probably a good thing, considering you were naked." Bucky pointed out. The black man snickered quietly, biting his lip to stop the full-blown laughter threatening to break out. His neighbor actually flushed a little at the reminder.

"Well, I'm fully clothed this time." He extended his hand. "I'm Steve Rogers."

"Bucky Barnes." Bucky replied, shifting the basket to one hand and propping it against his hip so that he could shake Steve's sweaty hand.

"Bucky?" Steve asked at the unusual name.

"It's short for Buchanan." Bucky informed him.

"Your name's Buchanan?"

"James Buchanan Barnes." Bucky chuckled as he gave his full name. "Bucky for short."

"Why not Jim? Or Jimmy?" Steve looked genuinely curious.

"Two of my best friends are named James as well." he said. "We all just go by nicknames."

"Your friends. You mean the guys that helped you move in the other day?"

"That's them. The Howling Commandos." Bucky couldn't help the pride that seeped into his voice.

"You served?" the black man asked, butting into the conversation.

"Two terms in the Middle-East with the 107th." Bucky informed him.

"I served in the Sandbox myself." the black man nodded in appreciation. "Army?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Air Force." The dark-skinned man extended his own hand toward Bucky, who accepted it with a firm handshake. "Sam Wilson."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Sam smiled and Bucky turned his body more toward him, thankful for the distraction. Not that Sam wasn't handsome, because he was, but he didn't look like one of Bucky's wet dreams come to life the way Steve did.

"Sam, don't you have to be at work?" Steve threw his friend a pointed look over Bucky's shoulder.

"No, I have off today." Sam leaned back against the wall next to Steve's door, crossing his arms and grinning at his friend mischievously. "Don't you remember?" Steve narrowed his eyes at his friend and decided to bring out the big guns.

"Oh yeah, I forgot." Steve chuckled good-naturedly. "Today's one of the days you spend entirely with Tasha." At the mention of the Russian woman's name, the smile slipped a bit. "You should hurry before Clint decides he's bored and decides to take her on some target practice."

"I should go." He unfolded himself from the wall and moved around the two Caucasians and toward the stairs. "Shouldn't keep a lady waiting."

"You should probably shower first." Steve called after his friend as Sam made his way down the stairs.

"Nah." Sam shot back. "Tasha loves my musk. It's manly."

"You mean your stank!" Steve fired back, grinning from ear to ear as he teased his friend. Behind him, Bucky was watching the little back and forth with his own amused smile. Sam's laughter drifted up the stairwell as he continued downward.

"You're pretty ripe yourself." Bucky couldn't help but interject. Steve turned around to face his neighbor and pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose before taking a whiff.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Steve agreed. "But the ladies love it."

"I'll take your word for it." Bucky said in reply before making his way around the railings circling the staircase to his own apartment door. Steve smiled at the response and watched his new neighbor move toward his new home before he turned to his own door... only to realize that he didn't have his keys.

"Shit!"

Halfway in his own apartment, Bucky turned back to see Steve running both hands through his hair before slumping forward against the door, letting his head thunk loudly.

"Everything alright?" Bucky asked.

"Locked myself out of my apartment." Steve replied.

"Can you call someone?"

"Cell's in the apartment." Steve turned around dejectedly, looking over at Bucky, the light now longer as bright in his eyes.

"If you want, you can come in and use my phone." Bucky offered, pushing the door open before retreating into his new sanctuary. He had just placed the basket down on his bed when he heard his front door close. He exited his bedroom and approached Steve, reigning his body in. Bucky handed Steve his own cell. "Let me know when you're done." With those words, he retreated back to his bedroom and proceeded to put away his laundry. Out in his living room, he heard Steve talking over the phone to whoever had a spare key to his apartment.

"Yeah, thanks." he heard Steve respond to whoever was on the other end of the line. "Take your time. It's no rush." Just as Bucky was putting the last of his jeans in the bottom drawer of his dresser, he heard a gentle knocking on the wood of his open door. He looked up to see Steve there, still soaked with sweat and Bucky's cellphone in his hand.

"Get ahold of anyone?" Bucky asked, moving forward to take back his phone.

"Yeah, but it'll be about an hour or so until they can get here." Steve informed him. "Is it alright that I just hang here for a few, or do you want me to leave?"

"You can stay." Bucky said after a moment's hesitation.

"Great." Steve smiled in gratitude and went to sit down, only to remember that he was covered in sweat. "Uh... I, um..."

"You can take a shower." Bucky smirked.

"Oh, I don't want to inconvenience you."

"You're already inconveniencing me." Bucky pointed out, but with a smile to let Steve know there was no hostility behind it. "Besides, you stink." The blond put on a mock-offended look. "And I'd like my apartment to smell like new-apartment and air freshener a little longer before the stench of man-sweat seeps in."

"But I don't have anything to wear." Steve pointed out.

"I'm sure I have something that'll fit you." Bucky offered. "Bathroom's down the hall. I'll go grab you a towel." The former sergeant spoke over Steve's objections and wandered down the hall to the linen closet where he kept the spare towels. When he wandered back down the hall toward the open door of the bathroom, he heard the water running in the shower and ducked his head around the corner to make sure Steve was still descent. His gaze landed on a wide, bare back, slick with sweat and corded with muscle. Muscles that danced beneath smooth skin as Steve adjusted the temperature of the water. Clearing his throat to let Steve know he was there, he stepped more into the bathroom, though still close to the door, and attributed his red cheeks to the steam that was coming from his shower.

"Here's your towel." He offered.

"Thanks." Steve took it with a warm smile before placing it on the closed toilet. He kicked his running shoes off before bending half over to pull off his socks, all the while looking at Bucky, who was strangely fascinated by the way the muscles in Steve's stomach bunched and just invited caressing. Shaking his head subtly, Bucky brought his eyes up to meet Steve's own smiling face.

"I'm gonna go see what I have that'll fit you." Bucky informed him as he slowly began to back out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed with him. "Help yourself to whatever you need." He gestured toward his meager supply of soaps and shampoos. "Just shout when you're done." With that, Bucky closed the door with a solid click before taking a deep, calming breath. Once all the tension had left his body, he made his way back to his bedroom and began to look through the few articles of clothing too big for him or from ex-boyfriends that he had kept for some reason or another.

Twenty minutes later saw Bucky sitting at his kitchen table, leafing through the newspaper, a cup of coffee in his hand. Occasionally he would pause in his reading to take a sip of the bitter liquid before returning to the article before him. The water for the shower had shut off about ten minutes ago but Steve had yet to reappear, leaving Bucky to only guess at what his neighbor might be doing in there. Just as he was about to get up and see what was taking so long, the door to the bathroom opened with a cloud of steam pouring out. From that steam, Steve emerged, droplets of water clinging to his body rather like the first time they had met. Thankfully, this time he actually had the towel around his waist like a normal person. Down side to this, the damp material clung to his lower body, outlining what Bucky was sure wasn't a third leg.

Running his hand through his wet hair, Steve accidentally sent little droplets of water everywhere as he moved down the hall to the kitchen, his pecs bouncing with each step.

"That is one smooth talkin' shower head you got in there." Steve remarked with an easy grin, pulling out a chair and sitting across from Bucky as if it was nothing unusual to have a man in nothing but a towel in his kitchen. "I had to put him in his place." Steve paused and brought a hand up to his mouth in a faux-attempt at being "coy." "Well, my place." Bucky couldn't stop the laugh that forced it's way up and out of his throat. He had to put his coffee down he was laughing so hard. With one hand on the table and the other to his chest, he tried to slow his breathing once the laughter stopped, feeling his heartbeat race against his fingertips.

"You should do that more often." Steve commented. Bucky looked up to see that his neighbor had been watching him the entire time, a small smile on those lips that just... NO! No! Bucky wasn't going there.

"Do what?" the brunet asked.

"Smile." Bucky frowned at the word, not quite comprehending what Steve was saying.

"You've met me, like, twice." Bucky pointed out, his frown slowly turning into a scowl.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that." Steve quickly tried to recover from his blunder. "It's just, I've seen you twice now, and when no one's looking, you sort of... frown. No. Scowl's a better word." Bucky tried to pull back the mentioned scowl but only succeeded in making Steve laugh with his effort. Stifling his chuckle, Steve plowed ahead. "I didn't mean to insinuate anything by what I said, it's just... well... I find people are much more attractive if they just smile." The smile came again. "See, much better." Steve indicated Bucky's smile.

The two sat at Bucky's kitchen table for a few moments more until Steve cleared his throat, drawing Bucky's eyes to his again.

"I believe you mentioned something about spare clothes." Steve mentioned. "Unless you like a practically naked man sitting at your kitchen table." The former sergeant sputtered for a second, almost spitting out the sip of coffee he'd just taken before he forced it down his throat and stood up, the chair scraping against the tile in the kitchen.

"Yeah, I'll just... go get those." Bucky edged around the table and out of the kitchen, moving down the hallway to his bedroom where he'd set aside some sweats, boxers and a t-shirt that he thought would fit Steve. He came back down the hall to see Steve still sitting at the kitchen table, head cocked to the side to watch Bucky's approach. Bucky's steps almost faltered at the intensity of the stare he was receiving, but his military training kicked in and he kept on walking. As he got closer, Steve stood up, his hand moving down to grip the towel that was threatening to come loose and bare all of him. Bucky stopped a few feet from his neighbor and held out the clothes.

"These should fit you." Bucky commented. "They're a bit big on me." When he caught Steve's raised eyebrows he elaborated. "Ex-boyfriend's. He left some things that just sort of migrated into my closet."

"His loss." Steve said, a smirk on his lips as he accepted the clothes. He then stepped around Bucky and moved down the hall.

"Where are you going?" Bucky asked, turning around to watch that broad, retreating back.

"To change." Steve stopped and half-turned back. "Unless you'd rather I just do it right here." He hand went teasingly to the knot on the towel around his waist

"Uh... bedroom." Bucky averted his eyes, gesturing down the hall to the open doorway at the end. "You can change in there. Just throw the towel in the hamper." Steve grinned and tightened the knot before continuing on his path down the hall. He paused at the entrance to Bucky's room and looked back.

"What about my clothes?"

"Just let them there for now." Bucky answered eventually. "You can take them when you get back into your apartment." Steve shrugged a massive shoulder.

"Works for me." He then disappeared into the bedroom, the towel coming loose and once again revealing that perfect ass before he was gone from Bucky's view. Bucky took a deep breath before letting it out.

"Get it together, Barnes." He said under his breath to himself, shaking his head and moving toward the kitchen to finish his coffee. A moment later Steve returned, fully clothed in sweat pants and an old faded t-shirt that read "Naked Co-Ed Wrestling: The Mat Is Where It's At." Seeing it stretched across Steve's impressive chest made Bucky chuckle as well as blush from the naughty thoughts that flooded his head. He wouldn't mind "wrestling" with Steve.

"So, I still think your ex is an idiot even though I never met him." Steve commented as he moved past the dining room table and toward the "living room" section of the open floor plan. "But he has a great sense of humor."

"I bought that shirt." Bucky pointed out in as close to a monotone as he could manage.

"Well, then you have a great sense of humor." Steve paused for a second. "And he's still an ass." Bucky chuckled again at the comment and Steve grinned in triumph before throwing himself on Bucky's couch.

"Make yourself at home." Bucky said dryly standing up and moving to the sink to rinse out his cup before turning toward his living room. He moved around the table and then the couch fully occupied by his neighbor before settling into his worn-in recliner.

"What are we gonna watch?" Steve asked, tilting his head back and looking at Bucky from a semi-upside down angle.

"You pick." Bucky tossed the remote toward Steve, who caught it with almost no effort and with a click of the button, the screen lit up with the menu options. Steve immediately began to go through the many choices, giving commentary on each one as he scrolled. Bucky just settled back into his chair, kicked up the foot rest and relaxed.

- TWO MONTHS -

Nearly two months later, Bucky was starting to think Steve was losing his keys on purpose. It had become a weekly, almost daily occurrence that Bucky would come home from the gym or the bar, or where ever he had been that day and "coincidentally" find Steve sitting with his back to his door, flicking out a message on his phone or just playing Flappy Bird. And Bucky would huff and puff and eventually just let Steve in to crash or hang around until the mysterious person who had a spare set of his keys would show up and let Steve back into his house.

Hell, the one time he actually spent the night on Bucky's couch.

Today was no different.

Bucky had just come back from dinner with the Howling Commandos, where Gabe and Frenchie just announced they were going to get married and was sore from the constant clapping and general rough housing that went around between their group. Steve was... well, not a welcome sight with how tired he was, but he wasn't exactly an unwelcome sight either.

The moment he crested the stairs and Steve saw him, the blond grinned and pushed himself to his feet, the muscles moving in his chest and arms threatening to burst through the tiny white shirt he was wearing.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" Bucky asked in lieu of a greeting. "Because if you are, that's kind of pathetic." Steve, ever the eternal ray of sunshine just shrugged off Bucky's negativity and continued smiling, following close as Bucky opened his own door and walked inside. Bucky's keys clattered on the coffee table as Steve launched himself onto the couch he'd claimed as his own since that first day.

"So why are you all dolled up?" Steve asked as he made himself comfortable and settled into the cushions piled up at one end of the couch. He gestured toward the rumpled suit and loose tie Bucky wore.

"Dinner with the boys." Bucky answered. "Gabe and Frenchie just got engaged." Steve's head popped up over the top of the couch as he looked toward his friend.

"That's great!" Steve's smile was genuine and bright, which was kind of confusing considering Steve had only met them twice, but whatever the reason, Bucky was glad.

"Yeah." Bucky agreed as he loosened the tie some more and slipped it from around his collar and over his head. "It's about time, too. We thought they were gonna dick around for years." With nimble fingers, the buttons of Bucky's shirt came undone one at a time, slowly revealing his own sculpted, muscular physique. He may not have been as big as Steve or Sam, but Bucky was no slouch when it came to doing his reps at the gym. His body was just as sculpted and chiseled as the next gym rat.

As each inch of warm, smooth skin came into view, Steve unconsciously licked his lips. His eyes hadn't left Bucky's fingers since they started to undo the buttons, taking in the deft and sure movements of the digits, as well as the lickable skin revealed in each passing second. Bucky, meanwhile, was watching Steve from under his lashes, taking in the attention the blond was casting his way. Maybe it was the booze from the restaurant or maybe he was just tired of the sexual tension between the two of them, but either way, Bucky decided enough was enough.

He was down to two buttons left when one of them got "stuck." Bucky put some effort into his growl of frustration. He looked up to see Steve quickly avert his gaze, a blush barely discernable on his cheeks in the gloom of the living room.

"Steve?" Bucky called out and the blond looked over. "Help." The brunet held up the connected cloth and cast his best version of a puppy-dog pout Steve's way. Ever the boy scout, Steve pushed himself off of the couch and moved toward his neighbor to help him with his wardrobe malfunction. Bucky stood perfectly still as Steve invaded his personal space, those big fingers taking over his place and gently freeing the button from the hole in the cloth. With that one done, he quickly moved on to the last one before he seemed to realize how close he was. When he didn't do anything right away, Bucky decided to intervene. "Steve?" Steve looked up from where his gaze had been (somewhere around Bucky's navel), but somehow still managed to look down at Bucky.

"Yeah, Bucky?" Steve's voice came out a whisper.

"Are you ever going to just kiss me?" Steve blinked those big blue eyes at him, his mouth hanging open as he was rendered speechless. If Bucky hadn't been the tiniest bit tipsy, he would have taken the opportunity to relish in a Steve without any cheesy comeback. Instead, he brought one hand up to cup Steve's head just at his jaw and bring him down to seal their lips together. Steve immediately got with the program and melted into the kiss with a content groan, his hands, which were still holding the ends of Bucky's shirt, made contact with Bucky's too-warm skin and moved upward, pushing the shirt from those ideally broad shoulders before coming around to run down his back.

Bucky arched into Steve's touch, like a cat finally being shown attention and brought his free hand up to Steve's waist, sliding under the hem of the t-shirt and caressing the golden skin underneath. The two stood there for a few moments, kissing and caressing before the lack of oxygen eventually became a problem. The two parted and panted heavily, trying to catch their breath while their foreheads rested against each other's.

"Bedroom?" Steve asked, his voice hoarse, as if he'd been shouting.

"Bedroom." Bucky agreed and maneuvered and himself into the hallway before backing up toward his bedroom, sliding both hands under Steve's shirt and pushing upward until the blond got the hint and raised his arms, allowing Bucky to remove it entirely. Bucky moaned openly at the exposed expanse of muscled, golden flesh before he moved in and began kissing his way across Steve's pecs, stopping to lick and suck at one of those perky nipples. Steve made an almost animalistic sound before pulling Bucky's face up to kiss him again, gently pushing/guiding him through the open doorway to the bedroom. One the way, Bucky's hands were making quick work of Steve's belt as well as the button-fly on his jeans before he turned to his own belt and slacks.

Steve's hands brushed his out of the way before sliding down the zipper and shoving both pants, and the boxer-briefs Bucky wore under them, down his thighs, all without ever breaking their kiss. What did break the kiss was when Steve gripped Bucky's impressive length and gave it a gentle squeeze, which pulled forth a sound that was a mix of a gasp and a growl from the brunet's mouth. Bucky stumbled back from the kiss, gasping for breath before his world was upside down as Steve pushed him down to the bed. Looking down the lean and sculpted lines of his body, he saw Steve crouching down to remove Bucky's shoes and socks before he peeled off the pants and boxers. They held each other's gaze the entire time until Bucky lay completely bare beneath Steve's roaming gaze. Those baby blues eventually settled on the one part of Bucky that wasn't laying down, but standing tall and erect, curving up, thick and heavy against the brunet's taut abdomen.

"Wow." Bucky barely heard the reverent whisper that came from Steve as his big hand skimmed oh, so lightly up his thigh and toward his erection, stopping just short as if he'd just realized it might not be welcome. Their gazes met again. "Can I?"

"Really?" Bucky's exasperated reply was more of a statement than a question, his eyebrows rising to disappear into where his hair hung over his forehead. Steve grinned, somehow managing to look both innocent and mischievous like someone's younger brother and not like he had a dick mere inches from his face.

"What can I say?" Steve said, his voice only slightly husky from their earlier kissing. "I was raised to have manners." Despite himself and the fact that he was completely nude before his neighbor, Bucky started laughing, moving his hands up to cover his face and muffle the sounds. Steve's big, calloused hands ran up and down Bucky's bare thighs in a soothing manner, causing the slightly smaller man to shiver in anticipation. "So? Is that a yes?"

"Yes!" Bucky practically shouted, moving his hands from his face. "God, yes! Please!" There was an almost wild desperation to his voice, visible in his eyes. Steve's grin widened and his hand finally closed those last few inches to wrap around the root of Bucky, eliciting a deep moan from the brunet. Cautiously, almost delicately, his hand moved up and down the smooth column of flesh, pulling shivers from Bucky's tense frame. His hand made a few more passes before Steve decided to speak again.

"You have a lovely penis." The absurdity of that statement brought out another laugh from Bucky, his body shaking so hard that Steve had to place another hand on his hip and hold him in place. "What?" Steve asked, grin on his face. "I'm just being polite."

"How 'bout you put that mouth of yours to better uses." Bucky tilted his head up to stare down the length of his body at the gorgeous man laying between his spread legs, running his hand s through his dark hair in exasperation.

"Okay." Steve answered simply, smiling as he immediately went down on Bucky, never once breaking eye contact. That is, until the sensations were too great that Bucky had to fling his head back against the pillow, accidentally whacking his head on the headboard in the process. Almost instantly, Steve was off his dick and propping himself up on those big arms to look in concern up at Bucky, who was cursing while rubbing the top of his head.

"You okay?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Bucky answered, scooting down the bed a few inches before settling back into his pillows. "Just go back to what you were doing." With a grin, Steve did just that, descending back down toward the one piece of the brunet's anatomy that when licked or stroked the right way pulled the most delicious sounds from Bucky's mouth.

Bucky loved the slow and easy pace Steve had set, like he has all the time in the world. And, who knows? Maybe he does. Bucky knows he doesn't have anything to do the next day. Maybe Steve doesn't either. For the next several minutes Steve exacted the most exquisite type of torture upon his neighbor, bringing him closer and closer to the moment of no return. When he felt Bucky's body begin to tense up even further, and the flesh in his mouth became completely rigid, Steve pulled off with a wet pop. His large hand closed tightly around Bucky so as not to set him off, and the former sergeant simply lay there, trying to catch his breath. Once he regained his senses, and Steve took his hand off his dick, Bucky propped himself up on his elbows again and glared at his neighbor.

"What the hell?"

"Well, I, uh..." Steve fumbled for his words, still laying between Bucky's spread legs, his shoulders brushing muscled thighs, and somehow managed to have a sheepish look on his face. "I was wondering if maybe you wanted, that is to say you don't have to..."

"Spit it out." Bucky's voice was a mixture of annoyed and amused.

"Did you wanna take this any further?" Steve asked, making eye contact with Bucky as he made the request. The moment Bucky fully processed what Steve had said, a small smile bloomed across his features.

"Sure."

"Really?" Okay, the look of - well joy was the only word that came to Bucky's head - it shouldn't have made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Really. It shouldn't have. This was a hook-up. Not a romantic entanglement. So they kissed a lot. Who cares? Bucky likes to kiss. Don't judge him.

"Yeah." Bucky answered, still smiling despite the inner turmoil going on inside his noggin. "Top or bottom?"

"Whatever you're more comfortable with." Steve answered, not a trace of guile on his face. Bucky felt his eyebrow rise into his hairline. Big, muscular, macho Steve was willing to bottom. Some other time perhaps.

"You can top." Bucky informed him. "I had a busy day and I just feel like laying back and letting you do all the work." Steve propped himself up further as he laughed.

"Lube? Condoms?" Steve asked.

"Top drawer." Bucky waved a hand lazily toward his bedside table was pleasantly surprised when Steve opted to climb up the bed and over Bucky to reach the drawer rather than get up and walk around. Another pleasant surprise was that sometime during his oral ministrations, Steve had managed to take off his own pants and underwear, giving Bucky an eyeful of impressive equipment. It felt even better than it looked when it brushed against Bucky were he was still hard and curved up toward his abdomen, eliciting a pleasured hiss. Stretched out into a ceiling of smooth skin and hard muscle over his neighbor, Steve turned that smiling face toward Bucky at the sound, retracting his hand from the drawer, condoms and a bottle of KY in his grasp. Placing them down next to Bucky's shoulder, the blond leaned in and placed a kiss on those swollen lips. Not like what they had been doing before. Just a quick press of lips to lips, not a lot of pressure. Just a peck. And then another, and another until it escalated into the full-blown game of tonsil-hockey they were playing before. A few minutes more of just kissing and Bucky placed his hand on Steve's shoulder and gently pushed, the blond rising up to stare down inquisitively.

"Not that this isn't nice, but I'm pretty sure we mentioned going further." Bucky pointed out, drawing forth another grin from Steve, who leaned down and stole one more quick kiss before he shimmied his way down Bucky's body until he was in the same position he'd been in before. Instead of focusing on the bobbing flesh before him, Steve put his hand on Bucky's hip and nudged it a few times until the brunet got the hint and rolled over onto his stomach, pulling a pillow toward him and resting his head on it while his arms folded beneath the down.

"You're alright with this, right?" Steve asked, his breath brushing across Bucky's ass. "I know some guys don't particularly like it."

"I'm perfectly okay with it." Bucky assured him, turning his head slightly to look back over his shoulder. "If done correctly, it can be more amazing than the actual sex."

"Just making sure." Steve grinned before his big hands parted Bucky's cheeks and the blond went for it. It was slow, at first, like the kissing that had just occurred. A quick flick of the tongue against the tight furl of muscle between his cheeks, each pass eliciting a muffled moan from Bucky as he buried his face into the pillow before him. Pretty soon, the licks became broader swipes of tongue with lips and teeth added, pretty much like how Steve had kissed him on the mouth.

It felt amazing. Set Bucky's nerves on fire as Steve used everything in his arsenal to make sure his neighbor was ready for him.

Several minutes passed and still Steve continued on, despite in the ache of his jaw, simply allowing himself to give Bucky some pleasure. Eventually the sensations grew too much and Bucky had to unfold his arms and reach behind him to push at Steve's shoulder, looking back as the blond emerged for air, his face flushed and slick with saliva and sweat, his lips swollen.

"What?" Steve asked, concern darting over his features. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Bucky assured him, slightly out of breath. "No. I was-" He took a deep breath of air, trying to calm the racing of his heart. "I was about ready to come and I wanted us to get to the main event before that happened." The grin that broke out on Steve's face was literal sunshine, extracting a smile of his own from Bucky.

"Okay." Steve said around his grin. Seriously, didn't his cheeks hurt from all the smiling he did? "You have a preference on position?" He tilted his head and for the life of him, Bucky thought Steve looked like a dog, or a puppy.

"Like this is fine." Bucky managed to rasp out, settling back down into his folded arms and keeping his body loose. Steve just nodded, even as Bucky's eyes were drifting closed again, and reached for the packet of condoms next to Bucky's shoulder, quickly tearing one open with his teeth and rolling it down his thick length, spreading lube all over before he added some more to where Bucky was already stretched and open.

"You ready?" Steve asked as he leaned over Bucky, propped up on one arm while the other was lining him up with his target.

"I swear to God, Rogers, if you don't shut up and just fuck me already I'm going to - " But whatever he was going to do was to remain a mystery as Steve's hips gave a short, harsh thrust, sinking his length several inches into Bucky and cutting off whatever he was trying to say. For his part, Bucky fisted the sheets harshly, biting into his pillow, not from pain - well, not entirely, but the pain was mixed with a fullness too abrupt for his body. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, but it was very sudden and his body needed to adjust. As if sensing the reason behind the sudden tenseness in the man beneath him, Steve forced his body to ignore the need to thrust completely forward and held still, his free hand rubbing soothing circles into the other man's back.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Bucky nodded jerkily, slowly easing up his vice-like grip on the sheets. "Yeah, just give me a moment. It's been a while."

"Yeah, no problem." Steve responded, slowly leaning forward until his impressive chest and abdomen were pressed firmly against Bucky's equally impressive back, leaving no space in between them. Even pressed as close as possible, Steve had the sense to keep his body braced so as not to rest his full weight on the man beneath him, letting him adjust to the thickness now invading his body. Steve pressed gentle, soothing kisses from Bucky's shoulder up to the nape of his neck. Upon the soft press of lips against his skin, Bucky couldn't stop the chuckle that bubbled up his throat. That little laugh caused his muscles to clench in certain areas and Steve, in turn, did his best to not squirm, though it was one hell of an effort.

"Oh, don't do that." Steve moaned, pressing his forehead between Bucky's shoulder blades and fighting his body's natural instincts.

"Sorry." Bucky responded. "It's just too damn funny."

"What?"

"You." Bucky clarified. "You're like some goddamn romance novel hero come to life, all sweet and caring with your partners."

"You don't like it?" Steve asked. "Because I can be rough if you really want."

"No, no." The brunet responded. "It's just unexpected. Especially from an army grunt."

"Hey, I was a captain!" Steve shot back playfully.

"Well then, sir, if you could please proceed to fuck me, that would be great!" Bucky shot back while looking over his shoulder, cocky grin on his handsome face.

"Are you giving me orders, sergeant?" Steve asked, his voice now harsh and cold. An army tone.

"Steve, I swear - " The rest of Bucky's reply was cut off as Steve rocked his hips forward harshly, hitting that spot just inside that had the brunet seeing stars.

"Do that again." Bucky groaned, reaching over with one of his hands and placing it atop Steve's large paw next to his head.

"Do what?" Steve asked playfully, circling his hips where he was still imbedded in the slighter man, eliciting another moan.

"Steve!" Bucky growled. Taking pity on him, and because his body was demanding he keep thrusting as well, Steve pulled out and pushed back in, aiming for that spot that made Bucky writhe. Once he found it again, he brutally assaulted it, the brunet under him squirming and eliciting the most wonderful sounds. Sounds that, if they weren't engaged in their current activity, would most certainly have made him hard and ready regardless.

"Right there, Steve." Bucky's tone was no longer demanding, but pleading, almost begging, his voice ragged and breathy. The hand atop Steve's tightened, entwining their fingers so that the former sergeant could have something to hold on to as he raced toward his climax. "Harder." Steve increased the force of his thrusts, hitting that spot with more and more power. It was like filling a cup with water; ever so slowly, Bucky's cup was being filled and was pretty close to overflowing. "Just like that, just like that." Bucky kept repeating before he was too strung out to even form coherent words, just emitting animalistic grunts and growls and sighs.

Liking how vocal Bucky was in the sack, Steve leaned down again from where he was propped up on those muscular arms, letting his impressive chest rest against the clean lines of Bucky's back, putting his mouth right next to Bucky's ear.

"God, you're so loud." Steve whispered, licking at the shell of Bucky's ear and earning a full-body shudder in response. "Like to pretend you're all orderly and sophisticated, but when you get right down to it, you're just an animal. Pretending it was joke, that you wanted it rough, but really, that's what you need. Isn't it?" When he didn't get a response from Bucky, he thrust several times, hard enough to slam the headboard against the wall and fast enough to force more of those delicious sounds from the brunet's mouth. "Isn't it?"

"Yes!" Bucky cried. "God, yes! Just don't stop!" Bucky's eyes were clenched shut as he felt that wonderful pressure building at the base of his spine, signaling he was close to the end.

"Maybe I should bite you, huh?" Steve growled. "Mark you up and let everyone see where my teeth were. Let everyone know what you were doing." Instead of answering him verbally, as he was too far gone at that point, Bucky just arched his head to the side, baring the long, smooth column of his throat. Taking that as permission, Steve leaned his head down and bit, not as hard as he could have, but hard enough to leave a love-bite behind. That bite seemed to set off Bucky, as his entire body tensed, his muscles all straining toward that one explosion of adrenaline and endorphins.

The last thing he was aware of before the blackness took him completely, was Steve thrusting a few more times before burying himself completely in Bucky and groaning, all while licking the bite he left at the crook between the brunet's neck and shoulder.

Bucky slowly became aware of his surroundings again when the post-orgasmic rush receded, noticing things like the bed moving and the sounds of something being thrown into his bedside trash can, shortly followed by the sounds of someone using his bathroom. When he cracked one of his eyes open, he saw Steve wander out from his bathroom and move toward Bucky, helping him under the covers before the darkness once again took him.

When Bucky once again swam back to the shore of the wakeful, he opened his eyes, only to see Steve's sleeping face mere inches from his own. Frowning in confusion, Bucky couldn't think of any reason of why Steve would be in his bed. That is, until he moved. The sore muscles in his body screamed at him and that was when Bucky remembered what had transpired. But who gave the blond permission to spend the night.

Sluggishly, Bucky reached out and pushed at Steve's shoulder until the blond grumbled and muttered a sleepy 'What?'

"What are you doing in my bed?" Bucky asked.

"Well, last night, you and I..."

"I remember that." Bucky grumbled, fighting off the exhaustion threatening to pull him under again. "I mean, what are you still doing in my bed."

"Well, it turns out, your bed is even more comfortable than your couch." Steve yawned before snuggling deeper into the blankets. "Now go back to sleep. You can yell at me in the morning." And really, that sounded like a good idea to Bucky, so he stopped fighting and was swept back up in the tide of sleep.

- FOUR MONTHS -

"I'm at a loss here." Steve complained as he walked down the sidewalk, Natasha and Sam on one side and Clint on the other. The foursome had been on their way to the gym when Sam had asked, hoping to embarrass Steve with his crush, how things were going with Bucky? All three of his companions now regretted that original question.

Who knew two hundred pounds of rock-solid muscle and whoop-ass could be such a teenage girl on the inside? Seriously, for the past four blocks, Steve had whined about how he and Bucky had "gotten together" quite a few times, but afterward, the brunet was usually distant, constantly trying to kick him out of his apartment, but then letting him in again the next day.

"I don't know, Steve." Clint interrupted the taller man's rant. "Sounds to me like he just sees you as a booty call." He blew a bubble with the gum he was chewing before tilting his head downward so that he could peer out over his sunglasses at Steve. "That is, if you really are tapping that?"

"I am." Steve shot back frostily, his eyes narrowed as he stared down the other blond.

"I don't know, Rogers." 'Tasha gave her two cents. "You've never introduced him to us. The only one of us who can actually confirms that this Bucky exists is Sam here." She reached over and patted his flat stomach with the back of her hand. "And even he can only confirm that he's your neighbor that you drool over like a dog."

"Why do I even have friends?" Steve asked nobody in particular, face turned skyward as if imploring someone from on high.

As if timed, a cherry red and no doubt ridiculously expensive sports car roared up toward the sidewalk, skidding to a halt in a move out of an action movie a mere foot from where Steve and his friends were standing. None of them so much as flinched. Clint just blew another bubble and let it pop. The doors opened and out stepped a dark-haired, goateed man in an exquisite three-piece suit who's eyes were hidden behind name-brand sunglasses, and a large man in the standard dark suit of security.

"Not even a flinch?" The first man asked.

"Well, Tony, maybe if you didn't do it every single day." Steve pointed out and Sam nodded in agreement. Clint just kept chewing his gum.

"I saw you coming." Natasha added dryly.

"Of course you did." Tony remarked, hoisting the duffel bag with his gym clothes over his shoulder and tossing the car keys to his security. "Don't scratch her, Happy."

"Of course not, Mr. Stark." Happy picked the keys up from where he dropped them and climbed into the driver's seat, pulling away from the curb at a much more reasonable speed.

"I swear, that man." Tony remarked, watching his car drive off. "I honestly don't know what to do with him." He turned back toward his friends, a bright smile on his devilishly handsome face. "So, what are we talking about?"

"Steve's imaginary sex life." Natasha spoke up first as the five of them moved toward the entrance to the gym.

"It's not imaginary!" Steve cried after them as they all filed into the SHEILD & HAMMER Athletic club, each of them nodding and greeting Ms. Hill, who sat behind the counter, looking bored as hell and flipping through a gun magazine. Scary woman, Maria Hill. Best to not get on her bad side. "As I was saying." Steve continued once they were past the front desk, on their way to the locker rooms to change into their workout clothes. "Bucky is real, possibly the best sex I've ever had and..." Steve paused his rant, his gaze caught on something further in the gym. His friends all stopped walking and turned back to see what had stopped him, finding his gaze trained on the far side of the gym. "... he's here."

In unison, the four all turned their heads once again and followed Steve's line of sight, their gazes landing on an incredibly toned, shirtless and sweaty young dark-haired man finishing a set on the salmon ladder.

Clint's bubble burst, covering his mouth and chin with the remnants of the chewing gum.

"Damn." Sam said, under his breath, having not seen Bucky since that first time.

"I would hit that like a target." 'Tasha nodded, eyeing Bucky's physique appreciatively.

"So much respect for you right now, Rogers." Tony remarked. "And I take back everything I've ever said about you."

"Thanks." Steve said, grinning broadly at having proven that Bucky was real and gorgeous. Then Tony's words caught up with him. "Wait, what have you been saying about me?"

"That's not important." Tony waved his hand, brushing away the subject. "Introduce us." He said brightly and proceeded, shamelessly, to march across the gym toward where Bucky was talking with a dark-skinned man and a shorter guy with plenty of scruff on his face.

"Tony!" Steve called after his friend, brushing past the other three who were all still staring at a shirtless Bucky with open-mouthed incredulity.

"Bucky!" Tony called out before Steve could stop him, getting the attention of the brunet and his work-out buddies. "Bucky Barnes, right?" The billionaire reached them, hand out to shake Bucky's hand, who accepted it with utter confusion on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Tony, leave him alone." Steve finally caught up with his... well, friend probably wasn't the right word, especially considering he and Tony were at each other's throats most of the time. Frenemy?

"You know Tony Stark?" Bucky asked, eyes wide, as were the Commandos behind him as they stared at the world-famous former weapons maker. Dum Dum was spotting Jim and so "entranced" with the appearance of one of the world's richest men he didn't really notice when the bar started to become too heavy until the Asian-America started to gasp for breath. While they were saving Jim's life, Steve's other friends approached the group.

"You never told him about me?" Tony placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

"You mean, you two...?" Bucky looked from one to the other, his face sliding into a carefully blank mask.

"No!" Steve practically shouted. "No, he's joking." He turned toward Tony. "Tell him your joking." He growled at the playboy philanthropist.

"But Steve..." Tony pouted. "After that magical weekend - "

"I will snap you like a twig." Steve's eyes were narrowed.

"He says the sweetest things, doesn't he?" Tony asked Bucky, turning back to the younger man.

"I'll call Bruce." Steve crossed his arms over his chest, making his pectorals even more impressive. That shut Tony right up, his mouth snapping shut as he turned to look back at the taller blond.

"Oh, low blow, Rogers. Low blow." Steve's expression was haughtier now, pleased he'd gotten the billionaire to shut his silver-tongued mouth. Expression more serious now, Tony turned back to look at his friend's paramour. "How many sets you have left?"

"I... uh, I just got here about an hour ago." Bucky answered, unsure how to handle the conversation switching to him. "I have a few more sets before I hit the free weights."

"Good, don't go anywhere." Tony said, hoisting his bag over his shoulder again. "Steve's been gushing about you for weeks now, so, as his friends, we need to interrogate you." Bucky blinked rapidly, watching as Tony joined Sam and Clint on their way to the men's locker room, 'Tasha having already disappeared into the women's. When he regained his senses, he shook his head and looked to a blushing Steve, who's gaze was on the floor.

"You've been talking about me to Tony Stark?" He asked.

"It's not as bad as he's making it sound." Steve said quickly. "I've just mentioned that you let me crash at your place when I lose my keys." The blush seemed to intensify. "I'll, uh, see you in a few." Steve started forward, almost as if he would move in to hug or kiss Bucky, but stopped himself, instead playfully punching the smaller man's arm in a "bro-like" way before he headed off toward the lockers. Bucky frowned in confusion, a thing that seemed to happen a lot around Steve lately, while Frenchie leaned in toward his fiancé and muttered something in French to Gabe. The darker-skinned man laughed, earning a dark glare from Bucky.

"What?" Gabe asked, feigning innocence.

"I speak French, asswhipe." This caused the soon-to-be-married couple to burst out in laughter with Gabe leaning into Frenchie and hiding his laughing face in the other man's shoulder.

- SEVEN MONTHS -

"So, I've been meaning to talk to you about the wedding." Gabe said to Bucky as they exited the florist shop after discussing flower arrangements at the up-coming wedding. Across town, Monty and Frenchie were looking into catering.

"What about?" Bucky asked, hands sliding into the front pocket of his hoodie, which he only realized was Steve's after he had gotten to Gabe's. He didn't say anything because his friends made fun of him enough for his "non-relationship" with Steve, just huddled further into the warm fabric (not that he would ever admit that.)

"The wedding's in four months." Gabe said. "And I was wondering how busy you were?"

"I'm not gonna skip your wedding." Bucky gave Gabe a bitch face.

"No, no..." Gabe rubbed the back of his head while chuckling. "I was wondering if you wanted to be my best man?" Bucky stopped, in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, oblivious to the business men and women bustling around him to stare at the darker-skinned man. Gabe had continued forward a few steps before he realized his friend was no longer with him. Turning, he saw Bucky standing a few paces behind, a dumbstruck expression on his face. "Buck?"

"You want me..." Bucky couldn't shake the shock. "To be your best man?"

"Yeah." Gabe answered as if it were obvious.

"Are you sure? I mean, what about the other guys?" Bucky questioned.

"Frenchie is asking Monty. " Gabe responded. "Dum Dum's agreed to be the usher."

"And Jim?"

"Designated drinker." Gabe replied, getting a snort of laughter from the brunet. "He'll be stage whispering dramatically in the corner while sipping a martini." He slung his arm over Bucky's shoulders and the two rejoined the flow of people on the sidewalk, following the throng to the next street crossing.

"I would be honored to be your Best Man." Bucky finally answered the original question. "And as you best man, I'm gonna buy you lunch."

"That's nice of you Bucky." Gabe looked at his friend. "Especially considering we already decided on McDonald's."

"Hey, nothing but the best for the groom-to-be." Bucky grinned cheekily.

"How generous, you big spender you." The darker-skinned man joked.

"I'll even let you supersize it." This earned a coy grin from Gabe.

"That's what Frenchie says all the time." Bucky, unprepared for that response, quickly started choking on his own spit while simultaneously trying to hold in his laughter. "Oh, don't give me any of that prudish shit." Gabe smacked him playfully on the back of the head. "You've told us all about you and that hunk of All-American beefcake that lives next door." Bucky choked some more at his friend's words before he finally got it all out of his system and straightened up.

"We're not going to talk about me and Steve." Bucky stated strongly, earning a grin from Gabe.

"Oh, trouble in paradise?" He teased.

"No, there's no trouble in paradise." Bucky shot back. "There's not even paradise. We're not seeing each other."

"Just fucking." Gabe said boldly, earning a death glare from the little old lady going in the opposite direction.

"Pretty much." Bucky agreed. "It's not like we do it all the time. Just once in a while." Bucky shrugged. "We're just two friends scratching a mutual itch, having a good time. Why does it have to be more than that?"

"You're right, you're right." Gabe answered, holding his hands up in surrender. "I was just curious." The turned the corner and blindly headed straight for the McDonalds down the street. "So you two don't do cutesy things like bring each other breakfast in bed or wear each other's clothes?"

"No!" Bucky said incredulously.

"Mmm." Gabe hummed as he pulled open the door to the fast-food restaurant. " Nice hoodie." He commented before he went inside. Behind him, still out on the street in the chilly, early Spring air, Bucky stood in shock, a deep flush rising up his neck and staining his cheeks. Shaking his head and hunkering down into Steve's hoodie, he followed his friend inside.

- NINE MONTHS -

Bucky awoke to the sounds of loud and heavy footsteps on the stairs just outside his front door. Rubbing sleepily at his eyes, the former sergeant sat up on his incredibly comfortable couch (not that he would ever tell Steve) and stumbled, half-awake, toward the front door. Too tired to even think of using the peep hole set in the door, he automatically undid the chain and opened the door. The sight that greeted him was of Sam, half-supporting, half-carrying a clearly, very drunk Steve.

"Steve, you're going to wake the whole building." Sam said as softly as possible, but still had to raise his voice so that he could be heard.

"Don't care." Steve slurred, stumbling more and forcing Sam to carry more of his weight. "'Sides, I lost my keys." Judging from the look on Sam's face, he was struggling between the urge to punch Steve or hug him, though Bucky didn't know why.

"Everything alright?" Bucky spoke up, his voice groggy from sleep. Sam turned his head to see who had spoken while Steve just sort of hung there.

"He's a bit drunk." Sam answered.

"Clearly." Bucky countered. "Do you need any help?"

"No, I..." Sam trailed off as he considered the offer. "Y'know, yeah. I could use some help." Bucky opened his front door wide and stepped out onto the landing, walking around the stairs to take Steve's other arm and sling it over his shoulders, effectively supporting him.

"Come on, ya big lug." Bucky whispered to Steve. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"He lost his keys." Sam said, suddenly remembering.

"He can crash at my place." The smallest of the three responded. "Lord knows, he does it enough."

"You sure?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, it's no problem." Bucky half-waved it off, unable to use his whole arm because of the giant hunk of blond beef leaning heavily into him. The two slowly but surely made their way over toward Bucky's open door, shuffling their feet and trying to keep Steve moving so that he wouldn't trip and hurt himself, all the while, Bucky was fighting off a concerned expression. Hell, he'd seen Steve... well, if not drunk, then after a few drinks. He was never this somber and quiet. He was usually all hands and lame attempts at flirting, which in the end usually led to his bedroom, but that's besides the point.

Kicking the door closed behind him, he looked at the couch and considered it a second before deciding on the bed. Steve looked like he could use a good night's sleep, he'd just take the couch after the blond finally crashed. After a few minutes struggle, they managed to get into Bucky's bedroom, but unfortunately, that was when Steve's stomach decided to rebel.

"I'm gonna throw up." Steve grumbled. Lurching forward with an urgency he hadn't shown since Bucky opened his front door, Steve made it into the en suite bathroom and managed to get above the toilet before his stomach emptied itself of it's contents. Uncaring that he was being overheard, Steve let his knees strike the tile as he hunched his muscular body over the porcelain bowl, heaving into the toilet.

"Is he alright?" Bucky asked softly from where he and Sam were lingering in the doorway.

"Not really." Sam responded, a look of pity on his face as he watched his friend.

"What happened?" The brunet looked up at Steve, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Peggy died." The darker-skinned former pilot spoke those two words, trying to whisper, but Steve heard anyway, starting to sob quietly into the toilet. Unable to bear looking at his friend in pain, he turned to see Bucky's even more confused expression. "She was his..." He shrugged, struggling for the right word. "Mother, essentially. Took him in after his parents died and raised him." Sam returned his gaze to the blond. "She was going for a while now, but it still..." He stopped, unable to continue. He may not have known her like Steve, or even Stark, but Peggy Carter left an impression on everyone she'd ever met. Seeing someone who was once so strong and lively withering away in a hospital bed attached to an army of machines was a crippling experience. Sam couldn't even imagine how Steve was taking it.

Bucky, nodding in understanding, moved toward the man kneeling before his toilet and gently rubbed his back, pulling his head back so he could flush the sick down the drain.

"I'm going to run you a shower, okay?" Bucky whispered softly to Steve. "Can you stand?" The blond nodded, holding up his arm so that Bucky could help him up. Once he was standing, Bucky started to slowly extract his arm from the sleeve of his jacket, with Sam moving in to help. Between the two of them, they removed Steve's clothing without any shame before Bucky stretched toward his shower to turn on the water. Once he was sure the water was a decent temperature, he gently maneuvered the bigger man around the curtain and under the spray.

"Are you going to be okay by yourself for a few minutes?" Bucky asked. When Steve once again nodded mutely, Bucky slowly began to pull the curtain closed. "Okay. You know how the shower works so make it as hot or cold as you want to. Just shout if you need anything." Bucky closed the curtain the rest of the way and he and Sam retreated out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, leaving the door between the two rooms open before they moved down the hall to the kitchen.

"Coffee?" Bucky offered.

"No thanks." Sam answered tiredly, his tense shoulders finally dropping with a heavy sigh. "I'm not going to sleep all that well as it is and I have to be at work in the morning."

"Why don't you just call off?" Bucky asked, leaning against his kitchen counter with his arms crossed across his chest.

"I normally would, but Peggy was a big part of the VA I work at." Sam ran a hand over his face. "We'll have to get started on a memorial." He sighed again. "They'll probably send me home early at some point but I should at least be there. Steve's not in any position to help right now." The darker-skinned man glanced down the hall to where his friend was. "I honestly don't know how he's holding it together as much as he is. I would be in hysterics over this."

"It's Steve so probably sheer force of will." Bucky commented absentmindedly, his gaze vacant as he thought about the man in his shower. No, not like that! Snapping back to reality, Bucky brought his eyes up to meet Sam's gaze.

"Look, if you need to get out of here, it's alright."

"You sure?" Sam asked, looking guilty.

"Yeah, it's no problem." Bucky commented. "I'll get him cleaned up and in bed. You can come back and check on him tomorrow."

"Back here?"

"Yeah." Bucky tilted his head as if confused. "Where else?"

"His apartment, maybe?" Sam questioned.

"Oh, yeah." Bucky nodded. "That would make more sense. But I don't want to leave him alone right now." Both men glanced down the hall again. "I'll take good care of him."

"Normally, this is where I would make a sarcastic comment." Sam replied before turning back toward the slightly smaller man with a weak smile. "But right now I'll just say thanks." Bucky nodded at that and walked Sam to the front door.

"He'll be fine." Bucky assured him. "I promise."

"If you need anything, just call me or 'Tasha." Sam said to him. "Or even Tony. Don't know how but that man can get through to Steve when none of us can." The darker skinned man shrugged. "But don't call him unless it's serious."

"Why?"

"His dad and Peggy went way back." Sam confided. "Right now, he's probably drinking himself into a coma." Bucky's brow furrowed and Sam was quick to put him to ease. "Don't worry, Bruce and Pepper will keep him from seriously hurting himself." He sighed tiredly, running a hand over his face. "This entire night's just fucked up." He pulled his keys out of his jacket. "I should probably get going."

"Drive carefully." Bucky said to him. Sam nodded and headed for the stairs. Once he was out of sight, Bucky shut the front door and moved toward his bedroom, pausing just outside the open door, unsure of how to proceed while listening to the shower continue to run. Taking a deep breath and gathering up some courage, Bucky entered his own bedroom and immediately moved toward the still open bathroom door, frowning at the amount of steam pouring out.

"Steve?" Bucky called out, pulling the door open wider and stepping into the moist and humid room. The close to the shower he got, the more his shirt and sweatpants clung to him, heavy with the moisture in the air. "Steve?" Bucky asked again when he didn't receive any kind of response. Pulling back the curtain a little, he saw Steve sitting huddled in upon himself on the shower floor, head bent under the steaming spray. Everywhere his skin had been hit by the spray was red, just this side of a lobster dipped in boiling water.

"Dude!" Bucky exclaimed, immediately reaching over and shutting off the water and reaching for his neighbor. "Are you alright?" Steve didn't look up until Bucky placed his hand on the blonde's shoulder, feeling how hot the skin was after its exposure to the near-boiling water. Pulling his hand away, he reached around the shower stall to where the towels were and pulled one down, unfolding it and draping it over Steve's shoulders. "Come on, lets get you cleaned up."

"'M, sorry." Steve mumbled, finally looking up and meeting Bucky's worried expression.

"Don't be." Bucky assured him. "You've been through a lot today." Pushing the shower curtain the full way back, Bucky stood and looked down upon his friend. "Can you stand on your own?"

"Yeah." Steve murmured. "Just help me up." He held out his big hand and Bucky took it, pulling the larger man to his feet. Once he was standing, Bucky placed the towel over his head and started rubbing, getting the moisture out of the other man's hair until Steve batted his hands away.

"I got it." Steve took over drying himself off.

"Okay." Bucky backed away, giving the taller man his space. "I'll go see what I have that you can wear." The brunet moved toward the open doorway to his bedroom. "I think you still have some clothes here from last week." He threw over his shoulder before exiting the room completely. A few minutes later, Steve followed, towel held around his waist, eyes downcast. He looked up to see Bucky standing by the bed, holding a pair of sweatpants and one of Steve's shirts.

"Thanks." Steve mumbled, excepting the clothes from his neighbor.

"I'll be out on the couch then." Bucky nodded awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. "The bed's all yours tonight."

"What?"

"I just figured you'd want to sleep in a bed and not on the couch for once." Bucky explained. "You don't really sleep in the bed as much as we..." The brunet blushed slightly. "Do other things." He moved toward the door. "Just shout if you need anything."

"Bucky." Steve called out, just as the other man was stepping out of the room and into the hallway. He paused and looked back at Steve, who despite his sheer size and musculature, looked meek and small, like a little boy asking if there really was a monster hiding in the closet.

"Hmm?"

Steve opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to verbalize the question bouncing around his brain. Eventually he settled on just one word. "Stay."

"Are you sure, Steve?" Bucky asked. "Because I don't want you to feel guilty about taking my bed or anything and - "

"Please." Steve effectively cut off Bucky's rant, the brunet mulling it over for a few seconds before nodding his assent.

"Sure. Just let me go turn off the TV and the kitchen light." With that, he headed out of his bedroom and down the hall to do as he said, turning off the television with a press of the remote and flicking off the lights to the kitchen on his way back. Once he returned to his bedroom, he found Steve already under the covers in his sleep clothes, laying on his back and staring blankly at the ceiling. Bucky moved softly and silently to his side of the bed (and how weird was it that he had a side to his own bed?) and turned off the bedside lamp, slipping under the sheets next to his neighbor and sometimes fuck-buddy. The two lay there in silence for several minutes, listening to nothing but the sounds of the other breathing.

"This is going to be a really dumb question," Bucky broke the silence, staring up at the ceiling as well. "But I'm going to ask it anyway." He broke eye contact with the ceiling fan and turned his head to look at Steve. "Are you okay?" Steve was silent for a while, continuing his staring contest with the ceiling, or maybe trying to count the stars through the roof, but in the end, he shook his head instead of verbally replying. Rolling over onto his side, Bucky reached out and arm and rubbed it soothingly on Steve's chest.

"I know you'll probably hear this way too much, but it's going to be okay." Bucky whispered softly. "It may not seem like it now, but you'll get there eventually."

"I don't want to." Steve's voice cracked and a tear slid out of the corner of his eye.

"None of us ever do." Bucky said sagely. "But we have to or we'll end up crazy." Steve rolled his head to look over at Bucky, tears swimming in those blue eyes.

"You lost someone?"

"My parents." Bucky confided. "Long time ago."

"How do you deal with it?" Steve asked, rolling over so that he was facing Bucky.

"You don't." He answered. "Or, at least not how everyone expects you to." He took a deep breath. "For me, it was hard, but the world kept going and I had to keep going with it." His gaze found Steve's. "I thought about them every day, but I kept myself busy so I wouldn't have to think about the fact they weren't here anymore. It's actually why I joined the Army."

"Does it get any easier?" Steve asked, sounding like a little boy.

"Yes and no." Bucky responded. "You'll move on, remembering them but then you'll see something that'll take you back to one of the happiest memories you have of them, or a really nasty fight." Bucky shook his head to clear it of unwanted thoughts. "But I always found it best to just talk to someone. Vent all that pent up anxiety and frustration that you feel you can't tell anyone else."

"I don't know how I feel about talking to a shrink." Steve admitted. "Natasha's bad enough."

"So talk to me." Bucky said simply. "Tell me about her." Once again, Steve opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say about the woman who, for all intents and purposes, was his mother. Taking pity on him, Bucky tried to help. "Was she nice?

"Yeah." Steve's reply was immediate. "But not in the way you're thinking." Bucky's brow furrowed and Steve elaborated, earning a chuckle from the blond. "First time I met her I was getting my ass kicked in an alley in Brooklyn."

"You?"

"Believe it or not, I used to be this scrawny little thing." Steve clarified, moving closer to Bucky, animated by the talk. "So these guys, drug dealers I think, were beating the crap out of me and the next thing I know here's this gorgeous dame in a skirt suit standing over two of them." He huffed out a laugh. "The last guy thought he was such tough shit, pulled a gun on her and everything. Being the idiot I am, even bleeding and bruised, I got up to stop him but she disarmed him and broke his arm in a few seconds."

"Sounds like one hell of a lady." Bucky commented.

"Oh, she was." Steve's grin grew more somber. "She took me to get patched up and after finding out I didn't have any family she somehow got custody of me." He shook his head. "She was strict, not all bake-sales and bedtime stories, but I couldn't have wished for a better mother." Bucky reached up and rubbed Steve's arm.

"I wish I could have met her." Bucky mentioned. "Tell me some more."

And so Steve did. Told Bucky all about Peggy Carter until he fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning some time later, Bucky pulling the covers up further on his friend before following after him.

- ELEVEN MONTHS -

"Do you, Gabriel Jones, take Jacques Dernier to be you lawfully wedded husband?" The pastor asked from his place at the head of the church, speaking to the darker-skinned man in the tailored tux, who was gazing at the shorter man before him, also dressed smartly. As well he should. This was, after all, their wedding.

"Hell, yeah." Gabe said, earning a laugh from the guests gathered in the pews and even a chuckle from the clergyman.

"Just stick with 'I do.'"

"I do." Gabe corrected.

"And do you, Jacques Dernier," The holy man turned his attention to Frenchie. "Take Gabriel Jones to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Oui." Frenchie responded, never once taking his eyes from Gabe.

At Gabe's back, with Monty behind him, Bucky watched the ceremony, hands clasped in front of him so as not to do something "embarrassing" during the proceedings. The smile on his face was completely genuine as two of his closest friends declared their love for one another in front of their family and a bunch of their closest casual acquaintances. Glancing away for a second while Gabe and Frenchie exchanged rings and vows, Bucky saw Steve a few rows in, watching the ceremony in a nice blue suit, looking over and catching Bucky's eye before winking. Suppressing the grin that threatened to break across his face, Bucky turned back just as the pastor was finishing.

"I now pronounce you legally married." With those words, Gabe and Frenchie sealed the deal with a kiss and cheers erupted from the gathered family and friends, everyone standing up and clapping. Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos congratulated their friends as they walked back down the aisle, hand in hand, now legally married in the eyes of the United States.

Cut to an hour later in the hall they had rented for the reception, where Bucky was sitting at the head table, sipping his champagne and watching the couples dancing out on the dance floor. Frenchie was over talking to some friends from his job when Gabe came back over, sitting next to his best man.

"Hey there, Mr..." Bucky paused. "Well, which is it? Dernier or still Jones?"

"We've decided to keep our own names." Gabe responded with a chuckle, reaching for his own drink. After taking a sip of water, he turned to look at his best friend. "So, when are you going to be walking down the aisle?" Bucky snorted.

"After I catch the bouquet." He managed to say with a straight face. "Which one of you will be throwing it?" Gabe laughed in response.

"I'm serious." He managed between laughs.

"What are you talking about?"

"You and Rogers over there." Bucky followed the direction Gabe was gazing and saw Steve laughing and joking with Jim and Dum Dum, completely at ease. "He fits in already."

"He fits in everywhere." The brunet commented. "That's just Steve."

"You two looked pretty cozy earlier." Gabe mentioned. "Out there on the dance floor."

"What are you talking about?" Bucky tried to laugh it off while fighting the blush that rose up his cheeks.

"Look, Barnes." Gabe got his attention. "I'm just saying that maybe you two have gone past fuck buddy. You seem to like him and I can tell just from looking at him that he likes you."

"Really?"

"I swear, you white folks." Gabe rolled his eyes. "Just re-examine for a minute. You might find that the two of you have stuff in common other than sex. That's all I'm saying." And with those words, Gabe returned to his feet and walked around the table, off to dance with his husband. Bucky continued to sit there, mulling over his friends words, his eyes on Steve the entire time. He thought back to all their interactions since he moved into the same building all those months ago and came to one conclusion.

He liked Steve Rogers.

"Shit!"

- ONE YEAR -

"Come on, Bucky, I'm so close!" Steve whimpered from where he lay on his back, one hand clutching the headboard behind him and the other on Bucky's shoulder, his legs spread open to allow the brunet space to lay and thrust in between. And that's exactly what he did. He thrust and he thrust, panting with exertion as sweat slid down the smooth lines of his body, hitting that spot in Steve over and over and over again, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

"Me too." Bucky panted, one of his own hands braced against the headboard as he continued to thrust, the bed rocking with force of their movements. His other hand slid down the sweat-slick muscles of the man beneath him until he reached that one piece that stood up, rigid with blood and pulsing with the accelerated rhythm of their hearts. Bucky gripped the organ in his fist and began to stroke, matching his thrusts and driving them both over the edge with Steve painting his chest and abs while Bucky filled the condom with his own release.

For the next several moments they both remained frozen, panting heavily until Bucky's muscles finally gave out. He had enough sense to roll slightly to the side so as not to crush Steve beneath his own body. Unfortunately, this had the side effect of pulling himself out of Steve. Once they had regained enough strength to move again, Steve got up to venture into the bathroom while Bucky removed the condom and tied it off before tossing it into the trashcan. Steve returned, a damp washrag in hand, which he then used to clean up Bucky (having already cleaned himself) before throwing the rag in the general direction of the bathroom. After that, he climbed under the sheets on his side of the bed next to Bucky.

"You know, you hardly even bitch about me sleeping in your bed anymore." Steve pointed out as he lay down, his eyes starting to droop with exhaustion.

"Hmm." Bucky hummed contently, lounging back against the pillows, his own eyes half lidded as he stared at the ceiling.

"What'cha thinkin' about?" Steve asked, rolling onto his side to face Bucky.

"Do you know what today is?" Bucky asked.

"No." The blond said after a moment. "Should I? I didn't forget your birthday or anything, did I?"

"No, nothing like that." Bucky chuckled. "It was one year ago today that you first lost your keys to your apartment."

"Holy shit, really?" Steve asked, barking out his own laugh. "How'd you remember that?"

"Because last week was a year since I moved in." Bucky responded, looking over at him for a second before rolling over, his back to Steve.

"And what a year it's been." Steve remarked, starting to move closer to Bucky to cuddle, but stopping when Bucky rolled back around. "All because I lost my keys."

"Well, don't lose this one." Bucky held up a key toward Steve. A copy of the key to his apartment to be exact. Steve stared at it for a minute before his eyes snapped to Bucky's.

"Bucky, are you sure?"

"If you make me think about it, I'll take it back." The brunet smiled lazily. "Just take it and be grateful. We'll save the heartfelt dialogue for the morning." With that, he closed his eyes while Steve rolled over and placed the key on the bedside table next to him before turning back and snuggling closer to his neighbor and friend. He too closed his eyes and started to drift off.

"I'm really glad I met you." Bucky mumbled, half-asleep and earning a snort from Steve.

"You're just glad I was naked."