thank you to fads (awestruckbuck on twitter) for beta. for bla. even though they wont see this uh

3637 words by gdocs

Okay, Steve's pretty sure Wakanda just had a war, and yes, maybe he should be more concerned about that, but he can't help it when T'Challa calls him and the first words out of his mouth are, "Is Bucky awake?"

T'Challa looks at him vaguely unimpressed and smiles knowingly. For some reason, it makes Steve's cheeks burn up.

"Eager, Captain?" T'Challa says, the little hologram form of him looking past Steve, probably at something in Wakanda. If he wasn't fixated on Bucky, he'd probably wonder how this technology even works. How the fuck can this bead project only the person and not their immediate surroundings? After years of confusion, Steve's learning to stop questioning technology and just… accept it.

"Well?" Steve replies to T'Challa, tapping his foot on the floor of the Quinjet him, Sam, Natasha, and Wanda took. If his tone is impatient, well, he can't really help it. Bucky.

"He's awake," the king says, smiling again. Steve smiles, too, just beaming, because –

"When can I visit?" he asks.

He can hear Natasha snort from the cockpit, a few feet over from Steve's perch on the Quinjet's bench, but he keeps his eyes on T'Challa). He's glad Sam and Wanda are asleep, because he can deal with teasing from one of them, maybe two, but all three of them at once? Ruthless.

"Whenever you are available," T'Challa says, shrugging casually but knowingly, which gets Steve's heart drumming in excitement; he's always available for Bucky.

"Nat?" Steve asks, turning to her. They're not really doing anything at the moment and even if they were, Bucky's always taken priority.

"T'Challa," Natasha says, putting something into the navigation system, "is he giving me puppy dog eyes? I can't see, but he's talking about Bucky, so I'm assuming –"

"Hey," Steve protests, pouting, and still giving Nat puppy dog eyes.

"He is," T'Challa confirms, chuckling. Steve deepens his pout, returning his gaze to T'Challa.

"Okay, see you soon, bye" Steve says, waving his hand through the hologram and effectively ending the call. "Nat," he says, trying to put annoyance in his voice; straightening his back he rises to his feet.

"I'm just saying, whenever you talk about Bucky, your face goes all soft," she explains as he approaches her. Steve rolls his eyes. He can't be annoyed, really, because he knows she's right. "Put in the coordinates," she orders, turning her head for a second and giving Steve a little smile while nodding to the navigation system.

"I sort of want to be alone," Steve tells her, after a moment of him punching the numbers into the nav.

He looks over to the makeshift bedroom they've made on the ship – mostly a big pile of blankets. Sam and Wanda are still asleep, some sheets hanging up as a partition between them. Sighing, he nods to himself — they need it; the four of them are slowly taking out any rogue HYDRA bases they find, trying to finish the organization once and for all, and Sam and Wanda did most of the work on yesterday's mission, tiring themselves out.

Despite loving them with his entire being, Steve's glad; he's known Natasha the longest, and it's always felt easier to admit secrets to her — she's a spy, keeping secrets is her job.

"To see Bucky," Steve continues, when Natasha doesn't say anything.

Here's the truth, not befitting Captain America at all: Steve's selfish.

Sure, Bucky's met Nat, Wanda, and Sam before, but…

But this is different.

This is Bucky finally being Bucky. Hopefully — hopefully — being just Bucky and not the Winter Soldier, and maybe he and Steve can go back to the normalness they had before the war. He hasn't had a real chance to just relax, ever since he came out of the ice. It was always one thing right after the other. With Bucky, no matter how hard things got — when money was low, when Steve was sick, when they were on the front — Steve has always felt like he could breathe.

Honestly? Steve wants that all to himself.

Before the war, there was no Sam, or Nat, or Wanda, or anyone else. It was only Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, forever and always.

Which is why when they get to Wakanda, Steve wants to depart the Quinjet alone. He wants to get Bucky all to himself.

"I figured," Nat says, shrugging, facing out of the windshield again. "I'll drop you off, then tell Sam and Wanda you wanted to be alone with him."

"Oh," Steve says, because he thought it would be harder. "Thanks, I guess." Is he really that transparent?

"I mean," Nat continues, before Steve can walk away, "You love him, right?"

"Yeah," Steve answers immediately. "He's like a brother to me."

Natasha hums in response. "Right," she says softly, and it sounds like the end of the conversation, so Steve climbs out of the cockpit and sits back down on the bench.

If he's smiling stupidly to himself, he doesn't really care. He's going to see Bucky soon. That's reason enough to smile.

…

He can feel himself being annoying, but he landed in Wakanda around an hour ago, and although he appreciates the tour of the palace he couldn't see the last time he was here – the Wakandan technology is amazing and the architecture is stunning – he just really wants to see Bucky.

"What do you think?" Shuri, the princess, says, spreading her arms to the lab behind her.

"It's great," Steve answers truthfully.

And it is – he thought twenty-first century technology was overwhelming, but Wakandan tech has surpassed anything he's ever seen. Even if there wasn't Vibranium, Steve would be impressed with the design of Shuri's lab by itself; From an artist's perspective, he loves it. He already knows that he's going to spend time sketching in here, if Shuri will let him. The designs on the pillar are mostly geometric, but Steve likes the colors and the curves a lot. Besides, the things in the lab are material enough to draw — the white tables are covered in all types of different weapons that Steve can't even name.

He looks around at the rocky walls and the black tiled floor. It's beautiful, and he appreciates Wakanda taking him in, especially when Steve could clearly see the aftermath of their recent fight. He appreciates the tour, and Shuri, and everything, but he can't suppress a sigh. He must be louder than he thought, because Shuri lets out an amused laugh.

"You want to see Bucky, right?" she asks, giving him a knowing look and goddammit, why does everyone give him this look whenever he talks about Bucky?

"Yeah," Steve admits — there's an ache in his heart. When he came out of the ice, it felt like this the whole time. Hiraeth, he thinks — that sense of homesickness that never really leaves. It got better, over time, but he just misses Bucky immensely and he feels as though he's only half living. Bucky's his drug and he's been jonesing for decades. He tells Shuri as much, because he's an expert in wearing his heart on his sleeve.

She laughs kindly. He tries not to roll his eyes at her, because she might seem friendly, but she still is royalty. Also, there's a lot of weapons stored in her lab.

"Come," she says, waving a hand. Steve follows her as she exits her lab, feeling the excitement spark back up in him. With the promise of Bucky, that's all his mind can think of.

Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.

Admiring the scenery as they walk outside, he stares at the rolling green hills and the beautiful skyline. They walk past the outskirts of the city, until they reach a glittering lake. Steve doesn't know how long he's been there, but the sun is slowly starting to sink now, shimmering across the lake and making it gleam. He takes that in for a moment, already imagining sitting here with Bucky and painting. Something he could never do during the 30s – he was colorblind, which didn't exactly leave room for painting sunsets.

"Steve?" a voice from behind him says, a voice that sends out a million endorphins into his brain. (Is that even possible? For Bucky, Steve decides, it is.)

"Bucky," he breathes, turning around. Fuck. Bucky looks good in robes and his hair half bun, the sun making it look lighter. Steve registers that he didn't get a new prosthetic, instead he has his stump wrapped in robes, but Steve loves Bucky's heart, not his arms, so it doesn't really matter. Bucky's stunning either way.

There's still a good five yards in between them that Steve closes easily. Running into Bucky, he tries not to push him over and wraps his arms around him, and breathes him in, putting his face in Bucky's neck. He's touching Bucky and Bucky is touching him back and it's good, it's so fucking good, this is good, this is happiness.

He doesn't know how long they hug for. Steve doesn't want to let go. He hasn't felt so at home in seventy years. His face fits so perfectly in Bucky's neck and Bucky's hand feel so good on Steve's shoulder blade. Bucky smells like grass and nature and they could be in the middle of warring Europe, but it wouldn't matter. Steve didn't realize, until this moment, that he was really only half-breathing. Now, with Bucky in his arms, his lungs feel like they're fixing themselves — like the serum didn't do a good enough job, but Bucky is the salve he needs.

Steve realizes that Shuri is probably still there, but it still doesn't make him pull away. Bucky's the one that pulls away first, but he keeps his hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Steve," Bucky says, moving his hand to clap Steve's cheek. His eyes have little crinkles at the corners and they're sparkling. Steve can't remember the last time he saw such joy in, not just Bucky, but in anyone. "You can grow a beard?"

Steve lets out a tiny, breathless laugh, because he's started to grow little flecks of stubble over the couple of months they were avoiding the government. Shaving hasn't exactly been his number one priority. He also laughs because Bucky. It's Bucky. It's Bucky, and he's teasing him, and he's just like the beautiful man he knew when he was in his twenties. The last time they saw each other, they had both been through a huge battle, they were both exhausted, and they didn't know if Bucky would be Bucky again. Now, though, they can relax. They're fine.

Bucky's back. They're back.

…

He has goats.

It's the first thing Bucky tells Steve about, grabbing one of his hands and dragging him into the pen with them. There's seven of them, and they frolic at their feet as Bucky spreads his single arm.

"My empire, my children," Bucky says dramatically, looking over at Steve. "One female and six males. Their names are –" Bucky pauses for a second, pursing his lips and looking at Steve. Steve looks at him in confusion to question, what?, and Bucky bursts into laughter, bending over and slapping his knee. Bucky has never, in all of the years Steve has known him, slapped his knee. It can't be that funny.

"What?" Steve says out loud, after watching for a moment the way Bucky looks so happy and healthy and just all around gorgeous.

"That one," Bucky says, straightening up, his eyes crinkled and his teeth showing, pointing to a gray one that looks older than the rest, with the start of a wispy beard growing, "is Dum-Dum."

Steve frowns, because –

He doesn't get the chance to say anything though, because Bucky continues, pointing at two goats playing with each other, one that's mostly brown with white splashed near his eyes and muzzle, and one that's mostly white with brown flecks on his back and legs. "Those are Dernier and Gabe," he continues.

And no. Steve has to stop himself from groaning.

"The girl is Peggy," Bucky says, pointing to a goat with a pure white coat, with her head up and sniffing the air. "That one is Morita –" a black and white spotted one who's sniffing around Dum-Dum "– and that one is Monty," Bucky finishes, pointing at a black goat that's cleaning itself, almost like a cat.

"Nice," Steve replies, or something equally as interesting. He doesn't know what to say, because Bucky really just –

"This little shit," Bucky says, before Steve can reply, picking up what's clearly the runt of the bunch, who had been biting on Bucky's pants, "is Steve."

"Ha, ha, ha," Steve says, snorting and rolling his eyes, because nice one, Buck. But when Bucky offers to teach Steve how to feed them dinner, he accepts, taking solace in the way Bucky treats them all with such gentleness and kindness. Like a father, Steve thinks. It brings back memories of before the war, when Bucky would take care of his three little sisters, nurturing them with a soft smile on his face. Steve forgot how much he missed that side of Bucky.

…

Within a week, they fall into a rhythm. It's easier than Steve thought it would be, that even though they spent seventy years apart, they're still Bucky-and-Steve, Steve-and-Bucky. They sleep the same way they did when they were nine, sixteen, twenty-five and in the forests of France: on the same bed, back to back, keeping each other warm. Steve could have his own bed in Bucky's little hut besides the river – the king has offered – but they're fine. They have each other, so they're fine.

Steve still wakes up at the crack of dawn, adjusting quickly to the time zone, and pokes Bucky's side to tell him that he's going for a run. Every morning, without fail so far, Bucky just groans and rolls over to go back to sleep. Steve will get him to join him eventually.

Steve runs around the huge fields of Wakanda, the smell of the early morning dew making him feel peaceful, and then showers, and then waits for Bucky to get started with his day. When Bucky gets up, they go visit the goats, giving them breakfast, cleaning up their pen, and finish by laying down in the grass, soaking up sun. Steve might be biased, but his favorite goat is Steve. They bond immediately and, much to Bucky's chagrin, Steve-the-goat has never bit Steve-the-human like he does to Bucky.

"I raised you from birth!" Bucky complains when Steve-the-goat cuddles up to Steve-the-human. "Bitch!"

Steve-the-human bends down to get a better look at Steve-the-goat.

"Doesn't look like a female dog," he remarks, glancing back up at Bucky through his eyelashes.

"You can fuck off," Bucky says, his tone and smile soft.

They don't have a set schedule in Wakanda, but they usually train with the Dora Milaje in the afternoon. Steve adores them. He's had his ass handed to him by every member of the king's personal guard and he couldn't be happier.

And Bucky. Holy fuck, Bucky. Even one handed — even when he's not the Winter Soldier — he's still incredible at fighting. He spars as though he's dancing and Steve may have lost a few times, solely because he gets distracted by Bucky's body movements, but he doesn't care. The mesmerizing beauty in the way Bucky move deserves to be watched — to be admired. Mostly though, they're an even match, just like the good old days when Bucky tried to murder him.

"You need to fight back, Stevie," Bucky says, pinning Steve down to the workout mat with his knee on his chest. Just like that Steve's heart bursts with the familiar nickname.

Stevie. Because it reminds him of Brooklyn, and couch cushions, and family, and home. Steve's heart could implode. And with Bucky looking down at him, his hair falling out from his carelessly assembled half-assed bun that he refuses to let Steve do for him, calling him Stevie. Steve could kiss him right there.

He doesn't. Instead, he laughs, grabs Bucky's waist with both hands, and flips him over, switching their positions.

"Alright, Buck," he says, smiling down at him. Bucky rolls his eyes and Steve can hear one of the Dora Milaje make a gagging noise but he doesn't really care. His focus is on Bucky only right now.

At night, there's still nightmares, for both of them. They're not perfect, far from it. They'll wake up screaming, or crying, or panicking. Steve will let Bucky cry it out, wrap him up with his arms, trace small circles on his back, or where his arm got cut off, or tangle his fingers into Bucky's hair. And when Steve wakes up, picturing Bucky falling, over and over again, Bucky holds him close and whispers nonsensical things in his ear. Eventually, every time, they fall back asleep, wrapped in each others body.

…

Steve realizes, after three weeks of their routine, and he just says, "Oh." He's not sure how to bring up his realization to Bucky. It's not because of awkwardness or anything, it's just.

Oh.

They've been sitting on the grass, Bucky reading a book with Steve laying down, looking at the clouds and thinking. It's thinking, really, that got him to this point, because thinking leads to Bucky, and thinking about Bucky leads to thinking about how pretty Bucky looks from Steve's angle on the floor, and that led to Steve thinking about how much he loves Bucky, and then he started thinking about, well –

Bucky, whose thigh he's been resting his head on, hums questioningly from above.

"Hey, Buck?" Steve says, looking up at the way a few strands of Bucky's hair frame his face. His heart is starting to pound a little, but he tries to tell himself that everything will be okay. Worst comes to worst, they'll still be best friends. Best comes to best –

"Yeah, Steve?" Bucky replies, doggy-earing his book and putting it aside. he looks down at Steve with a little smile. Steve lets out a breathy laugh. Goddammit, there's really never going to be a sight more beautiful than Bucky's smile, even when he's laying in the greenest grass he's ever seen in his one hundred years on this planet.

"I'm sort of in love with you," Steve says, because he's a damn expert in wearing his heart on his sleeve. He's thought about it, even though he hasn't thought about it for long – maybe an hour or so – but he's pretty sure he's right about his feelings.

He can't believe it only took him nine decades to figure that he's in love with Bucky Barnes.

Bucky lets out a laugh, a full body chuckle that vibrates down to his legs, and, scratch that, Steve's one hundred percent sure that he's right about his feelings. God, he really was an idiot.

"Only sort of?" he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corner as he beams down at Steve. Steve's face heats up. Fuck Bucky Barnes. No, really, fuck him.

"I mean, well, a lot, but, I –" he sputters, because his brain short-circuits when it comes to Bucky. How did he not realize this before?

"I love you too, you punk," Bucky says, still grinning. He bends down and gives Steve's forehead a light, loving kiss. It makes Steve's heart jump out of his chest and he's pretty sure he just died. Cause of death: Bucky Barnes. What fucking else.

With a smirk, Bucky moves his lips down Steve's face, pressing soft kisses until their lips connect and holy fuck Bucky is kissing him what is happening.

"Was that your first kiss?" Bucky teases, straightening back up before Steve can register fully that Bucky Barnes just kissed him. Holy fuck! He didn't get rejected! He got kissed!

And then Bucky's comment registers in Steve's brain. His face gets hotter and he rolls to bury himself properly into Bucky's thigh, muttering a soft, "Jerk."

But he can't help but grin against the fabric of Bucky's pants when Bucky barks a laugh and says "It was, wasn't it, you punk?"

Steve will let him believe it. It's the first one that Steve really cares about, at least.

…

Nothing changes, really. They're still Bucky-and-Steve, Steve-and-Bucky. The only thing that changes is Steve figures out that he loves to kiss Bucky. They fall asleep in each other's arms and Steve kisses Bucky softly to wake him up. Steve-the-goat bites Bucky's leg while Steve-the-human presses soft kisses onto his stomach. When Bucky pins and looks down at him, Steve does reach up and take Bucky's face in his hands and kisses his face until they're both giggling on the ground. When Bucky wakes up from a nightmare, feeling utterly alone, Steve's right there to whisper "I love you" into his ear until it passes.

He calls Natasha, one night, watching Bucky sleep from the corner of Bucky's – their – little hut. Bucky looks so peaceful sleeping, his chest slowly rising and lowering.

"Bucky and I are dating," he says, forcing himself to look away from Bucky to make eye contact with the hologram of Natasha coming out of his Kimoyo Bead. From her smirk, he just knows he's making – what did she say before? – puppy dog eyes. He can't find it in him to care.

Steve can hear Sam whoop from the background, and Nat grins at Steve before saying, "About goddamn time."

And Steve might roll his eyes, and tell them to shut up because Bucky shifts in his sleep, but he knows she's right.

It was about time.