Based on a rp with my wonderful sister/writer PennyStarling17. In addition to being a brilliant Bucky, she also did the formatting and beta-ing. Check her stories out if you want to feel emotional pain in the best kind of way! On to the Stucky...

The '30s (Pre Captain America)

Steve smiled at his creation. The stew was pale and there wasn't nearly as much as he would have liked, but it was Bucky's favorite. The sun light glinted off the surface of their dinner from the one intact window of the apartment, gleaming with the last of the sunset. He hoped fervently that Bucky would get home without any trouble.

Further up the block, Bucky sighed and rolled his shoulders as he walked home. It had been a very long day and he couldn't wait to get to bed and sleep. He dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the apartment's main door, shoulders slumped, back and neck tingeing with pain. He finished climbing up the stairs to his and Steve's shared apartment, unlocked the door, stepped inside, and called out, a hint of worry in his voice, "Steve?"

At the sound of his friend's voice, Steve poked his head around the dividing wall into the small sitting room. "Hey Bucky!" He called. "Hard day at work?"

Relief bloomed in Bucky's chest when he saw Steve. He had been worrying about him a lot more after the string of break-ins had begun on their street.

"Yeah," he sighed as he hung up his coat. "Something like that."

Steve gave him a concerned look. He had been working himself too hard lately. Everyone was these days, the American dream wasn't cheap.
"I made your favorite!" Steve announced, wanting Bucky to feel better.

Bucky offered a tired grin.
"Yeah?"

"That's right!" He gave Bucky a mock salute. "Could you get the spoons?" Steve emerged from the kitchen, balancing literally everything but the spoons in his arms. He walked to the short table as if on a tight rope.

Bucky quickly grabbed the spoons before taking some of the things out of Steve's arms. "Careful, wouldn't want to make a mess."

"Thanks," Steve grinned. He dished out the broth equally in two bowls and offered one to Bucky.

Bucky gratefully took his bowl and sat down.
"So, how was your day?" he asked as he raised his spoon.

"The usual," Steve said. "Oh! Except for this, hold on, I'll go get it." He jumped off his chair and rushed back to the kitchen.

He returned with a piece of paper and a huge smile on his face

Bucky peered at him curiously. "What is it?"

"It's a job offer! I start the trial week tonight." he told him.

Something twisted in Bucky's gut. He set down his spoon and leaned closer. "Where?"

Steve was a little embarrassed. "At a sewing factory... All the ditch digging and manual labor places just laughed at me."

The knot tightened. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, I'm glad you got a job and all, but the factories don't always have the best conditions and you have asthma and -it was a while ago- but they're prone to fires, I mean, look at that shirtwaist fire! Over a hundred people died!" Bucky babbled, worry creasing his brows.

Steve pondered this. "Gee, that's not something they warned me about. Just the loosing fingers in those big, scary sewing machines." He rolled his eyes. Steve punched Bucky in the shoulder playfully and sat back down.

Bucky looked startled. "I forgot about that."

"The thing is," Steve explained. "I don't want to be dead weight while you do all the work."

Bucky sent him a puzzled look. "You're not dead weight, Steve. I really don't mind." He shifted slightly as a twinge of pain shot down his arm.

They'd talked about this before, with similar results. Steve decided to drop it for now. He show Bucky what a breadwinner he could be later.
"Is something wrong, Bucky?" Steve asked

He shook his head. "'m fine."

"No you're not," Steve said stubbornly. He got up again and walked around the splintery table to his friend

"Steve," Bucky sighed, fingers twitching. His whole body hurt, but he didn't want to worry Steve. "Really, I'm fine."

Steve began to massage Bucky's shoulders, with no idea the proper way to do such a thing. "You spend more time with fish than you do with me," he laughed. "How could you not be tired?"

Bucky sighed, leaning into Steve's hands. "Hmm..."

Steve smiled. The life they had now wasn't so bad. Moments like this made it worth it. He hummed the national anthem, a habit he had when he was happy.

Bucky smirked as he heard Steve's humming. He began to cheerfully whistle "America".

Steve sang along; he couldn't whistle worth shit. When they finished he hugged Bucky's shoulders from behind. "How did you know that one's my favorite?"

Bucky let his head fall back onto Steve's bony shoulder. "You're the most patriotic person I've ever met, Stevie. And after all the years we've known each other, you doubt my ability to read you?" He pouted playfully.

"All these years have taught me not to do this!" Steve gave Bucky's hair a quick ruffle and retreated to his side of the table

Bucky grinned and finished off the last spoonful of his soup. He grabbed his dishes and stood. "And don't you forget it!" He called over his shoulder as he walked to the kitchen.

Steve spooned up the rest of his own soup and followed Bucky with the remainder of the dishes.

Bucky playfully bumped his hip into Steve as he came to stand beside his at their tiny sink.
He glanced at the clock. "I've gotta go soon."

Steve wilted. He really wished they could spend more time together. If they didn't live together, he doubted if he would see Bucky at all.
"I- the docks are by the sewing factory, right? We could go together?"

Bucky froze for a second, thoughts going to the murder that had happened at the docks a few days ago. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, maybe not tonight, pal."

"Oh, alright," Steve turned his attention to the set of dinner dishes. "Be careful at work, okay?"

Bucky frowned, looking at Steve's stiff shoulders.
"Hey," he turned Steve to face him. "I'll walk with you tomorrow, ok? It's just," Bucky let out a frustrated breath. "Not- you can't go that way at night, ok?"

Steve nodded. Bucky was always protecting him. He was grateful, because, um, he kind of needed it.
"Someday," Steve promised, meeting Bucky's eyes, "I'm going to be the hero for you."

Bucky offered a pained grin and ruffled Steve's hair. "You stuck by me when no else would, Stevie. You're a hero," he winked. "just a short one."

Steve smiled, and decided that if one person thought that, and if that person was Bucky, it would be enough for now.