"Where'd you get that?" Steve asks as Bucky breaks out the booze.

He's sitting on the couch at Bucky's place. No one's home but them, and twilight is just settling in over the city.

"I stole it from my parents. Don't tell 'em," Bucky says with a smirk as he gets two glasses; one for him and one for Steve.

"I won't. But is this a good idea?" Steve wonders. Bucky pours them both some alcohol and sits down next to him.

"Think of it as an adventure. There's a first time for everything, and it's best if it's with someone you trust, right?" Bucky raises his eyebrows. "Bottoms up."

Steve watches Bucky down the entire glass with ease and gets that determined look on his face, the one he gets whenever someone tells him he can't do something or when some bully knocks him down. He drinks, but has to stop when he chokes, spluttering and coughing. Bucky panics and grabs Steve by the shoulder with one hand and pats his back with the other, because god Steve is just ninety pounds of health problems and if he dies because Bucky didn't want to drink alone-

But he recovers. "Gosh, that stuff burns. I love it."

Bucky loves Steve's nose crinkle and wide grin. He pours them more.

They drink a lot more than they should. Bucky can barely stand up straight and he's hot all over. Steve is worse, with skinny knees that're wobbling and bony fingers that clutch the countertop in order to stay upright.

Somehow, the "first times" topic comes up again. Bucky tells Steve about his first kiss.

"She was the prettiest dame I've ever seen, even to this day," he finishes with a happy sigh and another sip of alcohol. "What was your first kiss like, punk?"

Steve stares at the ground and mumbles something.

Oh? What's this? Bucky's eyes widen with glee. "What did you say?"

Steve straightens and lifts his chin defiantly. "I said, 'I've never had a first kiss.'"

Bucky howls with delight. "Steve's never had a first kiss, Steve's never had a first kiss!" He teases, shoving his friend lightly on the arm.

"Aww, shut it, jerk!" Steve tackles Bucky, who lets Steve's (not heavy enough, never heavy enough) weight drive him to the ground. He squirms and they wrestle playfully, with Steve giving everything he's got and Bucky pretending to do the same. He lets Steve come out on top, straddling him and pinning his arms to the floor with.

"I win," Steve proclaimed triumphantly.

"Yeah, but you still haven't had your first kiss, so who's the real winner here?" Bucky's grin is easy and his voice is slurring and god, Steve's drunkenly flushed face is so cute.

"There'll be a first time. Someday." Steve mutters with embarassment.

Bucky's voice becomes soft. "Wouldn't it be best if it was with someone you trust?"

Steve's pretty baby blues snap over to him, flicking rapidly. Bucky stares back. They're both very aware of how warm it is, then, and how Steve is positioned on top of Bucky. Bucky's head comes up, and he smells the alcohol on Steve's nervous breath.

And then they're kissing, and Steve is small and light and eager and it's everything Bucky has ever wanted. He can taste the booze in Steve's mouth and he loves the way Steve hasn't let go of his wrists. They're drunk and they're not thinking this through but Bucky doesn't care. He just wants everything about Steve so much, wants his lips and his eyes and his voice and his laugh and his skinny little body. Their kiss is perfect and rough and Bucky has a flitting thought that hey, maybe he should slow down for a second, but he knows he's not gonna do more than kiss Steve right now so he shoves the thought away and focuses on the important thing: kissing Steve Rogers.

.

He wakes up the next day on the floor with a thick blanket thrown over him. He smells something good coming from the kitchen, which is weird.

"Good morning, Bucky!" Steve whispers after peeking his head in the doorway. "I have a really bad headache and I bet it's your fault!"

The events from the previous night come back to Bucky in a rush and he feels a pang of fear. He kissed Steve. He kissed Steve.

And Steve is...still here? Making breakfast?

"Yeah, definitely my fault." Bucky sits up with a groan.

"I woke up this morning and had no idea how I ended up on the floor with you snoring your head off next to me. I remember getting drunk but everything got sort of fuzzy after that." Steve frowns, trying to concentrate on remembering.

And, oh, that hurts. That hurts so much. There's a flood of guilt and relief and longing and pain that smothers Bucky until he wants to scream and his heart is aching, because Steve doesn't remember. It's the highlight of Bucky's life and Steve's first kiss, something special and precious, and Steve doesn't remember.

At least now Steve won't know how dirty his best friend is, he thinks. How tainted. For wanting, needing, to kiss his best friend, his male best friend. For feeling these things for another man.

"Bucky? Is something wrong?"

Steve's concern brings him back to real life immediately. Bucky paints a smile on his face. "Nothing's wrong, punk, except for the burning smell coming from whatever you're cooking."

Steve blurts one of those adorable "gosh darn-it!"s and hurries off. Bucky lets the smile fall off his face.

It's for the best, he tries to convince himself. It's good that he doesn't remember. It's good. It's good.