Chapter Text
Steve’s mood can’t be ruined, even with the current pounding headache he’s suffering from.
He hadn’t expected to drink as much as he did, the excitement of another press day done and a certain someone’s number in his phone controlling the amount of drinks he had ingested. He was never one to try to keep up with his friends, considering they could always handle their liquor better than he could, but he’s not sure what happened the night before. He had clearly been trying to keep up.
He shares his suite with Sam, who’s clearly suffering a worse hangover than he is, considering the hurling he can hear echoing from the bathroom. With a chuckle, Steve sits up in his bed, grabbing at his pounding head.
“You okay in there, Sam?” he asks. Another hurl is the only reply Steve needed.
With a sigh, he slowly removes himself from his bed, heading towards the windows to pull open the blinds, and okay, wow, what a horrible fucking idea, it is bright out.
He leaps over the bed to reach for his glasses sitting by the side of his bed, quickly pulling them on to adjust his eyes to the horrors that are the Sun’s rays, not realizing that he had taken his contacts out and was practically blind. He doesn’t even remember taking them out… Good God.
Thinking about it, he didn’t remember much of the night before. He remembers heading to the bar, having a few drinks, talking to Bucky, getting more drinks, and then it becomes quite a blur of more drinks, a bit of dancing, likely some hurling in the bathroom, and a sloppy walk back to the hotel. It’s all just a damn blur, and Steve can’t even bring himself to care. The paparazzi probably caught the whole damn thing; he’ll get to read about himself there.
He heads to the kitchen, running the coffee maker to pour both him and Sam some coffee. Clearly, he needed it, and Sam, who literally had interviews in the afternoon with Natasha, was suffering more than he was. The last thing he or Sam needed was for him to show up hungover to talk about a movie for hours.
“Is that for me?” Sam grins when he steps out of the bathroom, and Steve blinks twice because the dude looks fine, what the fuck, as if he wasn’t bent over a toilet a few minutes prior.
“What the fuck?” he voices out loud, causing Sam to raise a single eyebrow.
“So it’s not for me?”
“Are you not sick?”
Sam laughs, shrugging a single shoulder as he reaches for his coffee mug. “You know black don’t crack, man. Ooh, sweet coffee. Thank you, Lord.”
“First of all, it’s ‘thank you, Steve’. I made this coffee for you. Me. Second of all, your ethnic benefits of not aging a day have nothing to do with whether or not you look like you’re hungover, sound like you’re hungover, or act like you’re hungover. I could hear you in the bathroom.”
“Your ears are playing you, man. You sure it’s not hearing aids you need?” Sam says with a grin, quickly retreating to the bedroom when Steve’s arm reaches out to smack him upside the head. Sam was the biggest menace to Steve’s entire being and Steve didn’t know how he survived with him this long.
He follows Sam back to the bedroom, albeit begrudgingly, ignoring the loud TV Sam had just turned on. Ironically, a trailer for their movie was on display, making Sam automatically switch channels. You get sick of seeing your own face, after a while.
As much as Steve would rather take the day to fully relax than attend press, he doesn’t really know what to do with himself. Most of his castmates have press on that day, but good ol’ Cap was given the day off, considering the fact that he would have a lot of press leading up to the premiere.
He could… maybe reach out to Bucky.
The thing with Bucky is that it’s almost a can of worms Steve is scared to open, which makes him something of a coward, considering he’s the one that practically begged for Bucky’s number, and he’d feel like a complete idiot if he didn’t do anything with it and let Bucky slip through his fingers. The problem, yeah, is that if you look through the timeline, it isn’t a great one. Say Steve texted Bucky, and Bucky answered, and they hung out, what would happen when Bucky would go back home? Would they just continue on their weird, long-distance friendship? Would it even last, considering they just reconnected? Would they acknowledge each other again? It’s all fears that are genuinely holding Steve back from picking up that damn phone and sending off a text.
Maybe, somehow, he could delay Bucky’s departure. At least until premiere night. That would give them more time to reconnect, more time to build something concrete, so that when Bucky and Steve part ways, their created connection would continue to flame, not die out. Steve needs it to not die out.
“Dude, help me figure out what to wear later today,” Sam says, rummaging over his large luggage. Steve gets up quickly; he doesn’t mind keeping himself occupied, anything to take his mind off of Bucky for the current moments. He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it, and he’ll get to that bridge in a few hours. Maybe. Hopefully.
+++
Keep your eyes open, you idiot.
Early-morning meetings with Complex are the bane of Bucky’s existence. That’s what comes with the show, and he swears he’s grateful for the show and grateful for what he can achieve with it, but Jesus H., do they have to meet this early in the damn morning? Bucky could still be catching up on some sleep.
“Why couldn’t this meeting happen when we got back to New York?” Dum-Dum asks, the border around his screen lighting up as he speaks. That was another thing; they were doing this meeting on Zoom. Freakin’ Zoom. Bucky wanted to be back in his bed, peacefully, so why the fuck did the world hate him?
“It couldn’t have waited, because we need confirmation prior to when you guys get back, so we wanted to make this as easy as possible,” Darcy, their boss—which, “boss” is almost exaggerated—replies.
“Easier would be face to face contact, not your microphone cutting off every seconds,” Bucky jokes, to which everyone but Darcy laughs.
“Ha-ha, you’re so funny, Barnes, did anyone ever tell you that?”
“Multiple,” he grins, which Darcy ignores.
“Seriously, guys & gal, I have news. They’re good ones. Basically, the exec team discussed your positions within Complex Media and have realized that you boys—and girl—are branching off onto better things, and you’re really bringing in the dough for Complex as a whole. Might we make a suggestion—” she pauses for dramatic effect, bringing Bucky’s nerves up. If there was anything Bucky feared, it was losing control of his show. He was scared that Darcy would change their platform, or remodel their show, or do something that would heavily impact the future of the show. Of course, Bucky loves Darcy and trusts her with his entire life, but he cares about the show so much; it’s his baby. He doesn’t want change; not yet, not when he isn’t prepared for it.
“—A brand new studio.”
Well. That’s not what Bucky expected.
“Hear me out—it’s getting a little bit ridiculous, making you guys move around all the time to interview others, but the studio doesn’t have the room to be able to hold the interviews. We were thinking of buying you guys your own area; it would still be in New York, only a block or two away from Complex HQ, but it would be specifically for Hot Ones. You guys can set up there, cook there, edit, anything you need, and then you could permanently hold all of your interviews there.”
The group sat silently, processing everything Darcy was saying, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel excitement bubble up in his stomach. Before that, they were their own independent show, yes, but being located at the Complex headquarters gave the feeling that they still didn’t have full control of what they were doing; he had felt like there was still a lot of control Complex held on their show. By being given their own space. their own area to have the show, produce it, edit it, they could bring everything up a notch; they could change it from something as simple as a YouTube show to something even bigger. They could become something.
Regardless of what happens, Bucky knows that he’s exactly where he wants to be; hosting, talking to others, making them laugh, just being himself. Nothing would change that.
“I think it’s awesome,” Bucky says, finally, completely down for the idea. He gets a few nods from his team, who seem to agree with him. It’s Gabe that poses quite an important question, one that Bucky hadn’t thought about.
“If we decide to settle somewhere,” Gabe starts, “Won’t that decrease the amount of guests that’ll want to come on the show? What if they can’t come to New York? What if they don’t want to pay a ticket just to come eat some wings for a few hours? I wouldn’t blame them, obviously, but that would be kind of shitty, and I don’t want to lose our guests because of this. Is there any way we can guarantee that we’ll still receive just as many guests as we did when we were the ones moving around?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Darcy smirks. “Actually, this has all been pretty much figured out; I know this stresses you out, Gabe, especially that you have a part in the booking process. We want to change the way bookings for the show are made. We plan on opening up a separate website that will only be accessible to celebrities or their agents, and within it there’ll be an interactive calendar, so people can go on and book themselves in, instead of calling. We’ll open up new slots about a month ahead of interviews, that way Bucky has time to do his research prior to the interviews. Of course, if we do this, you’re looking at about one month of inactivity. We have a few prerecorded episodes that could be aired in that month, and then we could end the season there and take another month to let people book the next season.”
“How does that solve the New York problem?” Bucky asks. “What if they don’t want to come all the way here, so they don’t book themselves in?”
“If we’re talking actors, there’s usually always a stop in New York during press tours. If they know they’ll be in New York for press on a certain day, they’ll be likely to book on that day to make sure they get an interview while they’re there. If we’re talking artists, if they’re on tour, they’ll stop by as well when they do their New York shows. Regardless, a lot of people are fans of the show and would come on the show, if it means they can get some exposure. I wouldn’t be concerned about bookings, and if there are any problems, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Darcy hesitates, before continuing. “In the end, it’s up to you guys. If you want to keep travelling, you can. It’s just, budget-wise, not the best thing to handle, but we don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation. Say the word, and we’ll drop the plan.”
The group went silent once again, seemingly processing everything Darcy had told them. If it were up to Bucky, it wouldn’t be up for debate. They’d immediately move, get their own area to start filming, and start the new booking process. It was a risk; the fear that people wouldn’t want to go out to New York for episodes was scary, but it wasn’t scary enough for Bucky to change his mind. Like Darcy said, if anything went wrong, they’d cross that bridge when they’d get to it.
However, he trusted his team, and there was no show without them, so he needed them on the same page too. If they didn’t want to move, they wouldn’t move; simple as that.
“I think it’s brilliant!” Dernier exclaims, making Bucky’s heart leap excitedly. Two down, six to go.
Slowly, as his team started getting accustomed to the idea, more and more of them started to agree to the move. Eventually, they were only left waiting for Gabe’s approval, which is the one that Bucky, personally, needed the most; there was no show without each and every one of his members, and Gabe built this idea with him. If Gabe wasn’t down, they weren’t going to do it.
“I appreciate the offer,” Gabe starts, and Bucky feels his heart immediately sink to his chest; he’s anticipating a but coming on.
“I think when we do this, we’ll owe you a lot, Darcy,” he says, finally, and Bucky can’t help but pump a fist in the air, a cry of excitement leaping out of his throat. He couldn’t help it; this was going to be big for them. This was going to determine whether their show can become more than it already is, or if it’s going to flop while it’s on its way up. Bucky could only hope and pray for the former.
“Ugh, thank God, because we already purchased the lot,” Darcy groaned, earning laughter from the group. “I think this is a good idea, guys, and I think it’s exactly what you’ll need. I’ll be in contact soon for more information, but just getting your approval is a big step.”
“Thanks, Darce,” Bucky says, earning a grin in reply.
“I know I’m the best, you don’t have to remind me.”
The group collectively roll their eyes, laughing quietly before slowly making their exists from the chat. Eventually, the only two people left are Bucky and Darcy, and it seems Darcy completely forgets the topic of the show, as she immediately turns her attention on Bucky’s private life.
“Soooo,” she begins, “a little birdie told me you were a big fan of your guest yesterday.”
Bucky rolls his eyes, hoping that Darcy can’t see the light coloring in his cheeks. “Oh yeah? Which one of those fuckers spilled the beans first, was it Gabe? Dernier?”
“Izzy, actually,” she corrects. Bucky raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth turning upwards. “Oh, Izzy,” he teases, gaining an eye roll in return from Darcy.
“Hey, fuck off, it’s your private life we’re talking about here.”
“Oh is it? She left quite hastily from the chat, may I say, trouble in paradise—”
“Fuck. Off. I’ll hang up on you,” Darcy threatens, making Bucky throw his arms up in surrender.
“Okay, okay, my bad, we’ll discuss your office romance later. Who snitched, about Steve?”
“Nobody snitched,” Darcy lies, like the lying liar she is, a large smirk on her face. “I was told there were some, fireworks, chemistry, kind of deal, but then I also learned that you know Steve, since you guys were boring ol’ adolescents! How about that!”
Considering how close Bucky and Darcy were, if there was anything Bucky hated more than Darcy’s serious, work voice, it was her annoying, teasing voice. She had somehow gotten all the information, and she wasn’t even trying to deny it.
“He’s… a friend. I don’t know. We used to talk, a bit, outside of school, but not much. I was looking out for him, in a way.”
“Yeah, I heard he was tiny when he was younger.”
“Try five-foot-nothing, ninety-pounds soaking wet.”
“Oh Jesus,” Darcy exclaims, laughter bubbling in her chest. “He’s had quite the growth spurt.”
“That, he has had,” Bucky sighs, a brief image of Steve’s straining arms in his shirt flickering in his memory, before he hastily gets rid of it. Not the time.
“So? You don’t have any more hosting for the next two months, you’re a free bird, what the hell are you going to do? There’s no way you’re still leaving tomorrow.”
“I am,” Bucky groans, rubbing at his eyes. “I already got my ticket.”
“Are you kidding me? Cancel it, rebook for a week from now. Steve’s staying, and you two have some catching up to do.”
“You don’t know what we have to do.” Bucky doesn’t mean to snap at her, but his fears and his frustrations are building up, and he’s projecting them onto the wrong person. He wants to apologize, but Darcy is staring back at him, a knowing grin on her face, which stops him in his tracks.
“Fear only holds you back, Bucky Barnes,” she states. “I don’t know what happened between you and Steve nor am I going to pretend I do, there’s definitely much more than I or anybody knows, except you and Steve, but from what I’ve heard, and how you’re acting, there’s a lot more than meets the eye. Something tells me you two have a lot unresolved history.”
Bucky sighs once more, running a shaky hand through his hair. “It’s the fear of the future that scares me. If I contact him, and he wants to hang, and somehow we catch up and he convinces me to stay, then what? There’s still the fact that he’s in Boston and I’m in NY.”
“Oh for the love of God, James,” Darcy groans, and Bucky can’t help but cringe at the sound of his name. His coworkers only ever use that name when they’re absolutely and completely exasperated with something he did. “Boston and New York are less than four hours away; you could go and come back within the same day. Relax, and don’t think so far ahead. Just worry about what’s going on right now.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You better,” Darcy replies, lifting a firm finger. Bucky throws his arms up in surrender. “No promises, but I’ll do my best.”
“Don’t overthink it,” Darcy says, finally, before ending the call. Bucky shuts his laptop, standing up to crash on his bed almost immediately, throwing his blankets over his head. He was exhausted, was woken up way too damn early, and needed another few hours of sleep. He was going to be responsible later, right now he just wanted a goddamn nap.
+++
The evening is slowly approaching, the Sun beginning its descent onto the horizon, and Steve has yet to text Bucky. Then again, Bucky has yet to text him too.
All of his costars are gone, so he doesn’t really have anyone to panic to, which he’s kind of grateful for; he’s starting to believe Sam, as supportive as he always is, would rather rip his ears out than listen to the mess that is Steve’s life.
To text or not to text; it was such a simple thing. It wasn’t even that damn hard, considering Steve wanted to text him. He just didn’t know what to say. Does he start a conversation? Does he invite him out to dinner? No, that might be too risky, they’ll definitely have paparazzi on their ass. Does he invite Bucky to his hotel? No. The paps would definitely spin that into a story, and the goal is not to push Bucky away this early. He literally just got him back. He needs somewhere secluded, somewhere that won’t attract many people or a lot of photographers.
He has an idea; it may be the cheesiest thing he’s ever done, but it might be the kind of privacy that him and Bucky need.
Hesitantly, he clicks to the contact Bucky added the night before, pressing on the message button. He types something out, quickly, not even giving himself time to reread it before sending it. If he gives himself time to reread it, he’s going to chicken out.
steve: Hey Bucky, hope I’m not bothering you or interrupting you with anything. How’s it going? I was thinking considering it’s your last day here, we should link up again and catch up. I have a place in mind, which is away from the paparazzi and away from the hustle and bustle that is LA, haha. If you’re not available it’s totally okay but let me know.
He rereads it after pressing send, immediately cringing. It sounds so dodgy, so awkward. Bucky’s going to delete that text and never speak to him again, he can see that manifesting itself in the universe and he’s expecting the worst, at this point.
He distracts himself by scrolling through the Netflix catalog, looking at all the previews but not actually playing anything. Five minutes go by, no answer.
He checks his phone again, to see if maybe he has Do Not Disturb on. He doesn’t. Cool.
Another ten minutes go by, and he almost considers sending through another text, when the phone vibrates in his hand, his heart nearly jumping out of his chest.
bucky: hey! lol other than another Netflix tv show I’m bingeing, you’re not interrupting much. yeah, im totally down to hang!
Steve’s alone in his room, so he lets himself grin freely, punching the air victoriously.
steve: cool! cool, okay, give me like an hour, is there somewhere I can pick you up?
bucky: yeah, I have an Airbnb on **** Washington Blvd, ready when u are
steve: Awesome. See you later!!
bucky: see you J
Steve hurriedly jumps up from his bed, his driver already on the phone. He’s going to need some errands, and a heavily tinted vehicle, ASAP.
+++
The wait for Steve to arrive to Bucky’s doesn’t take long; in fact, even though he gave an hour heads up, it only took him about thirty minutes before he was pulling up in a large, dark van, all windows fully tinted, Bucky couldn’t even see him inside. The only reason Bucky knew it was him was because Steve sent him a text.
Bucky was nervous, to say the least; his palms were starting to sweat, and he could feel his heart race, but he was also extremely excited. Steve had done what he had been afraid to do.
Steve didn’t tell him where they were going, so he simply stuffed a few snacks that he had purchased in a bag, along with a hoodie in case they were going to be outside. He slowly made his way out, making sure to lock the door behind him properly before heading towards the vehicle. It unlocked as soon as he approached the passenger side, and he grinned as he swung the door open, meeting Steve’s lovely, gentle smile.
“Hey Buck,” Steve says as he enters, and Bucky can already feel his cheeks reddening at the nickname.
“Hey, Stevie,” he replies, throwing the bag over his shoulder to put it by his feet. “You’re early.”
“I guess I run errands very fast,” he laughs, prompting Bucky to turn around, curious to see what Steve had purchased, but Steve immediately lunged, covering Bucky’s eyes with his hand.
“You can’t look,” Steve says, sheepishness leaking from his voice. “It’s part of the surprise.”
“So, this is a surprise?” Bucky smirks, grabbing Steve’s hand and slowly lowering it.
“Something like that,” Steve shrugs. Bucky bites his lip, throwing a quick look at the rearview mirror, but he can’t see much. With a sigh, he gives up, letting go of Steve’s hands to throw his own up in surrender.
“Fair, fair, I’ll wait,” Bucky replies, and Steve grins triumphantly. “Good.”
The drive only takes a little under thirty minutes. Bucky’s surprised that the ride isn’t awkward, faint music coming from the speakers playing lightly in the background, as they loosely catch up. Bucky can’t help but ask Steve once again how his mouth feels, and Steve shoves jokingly at his shoulder as a reply, ignoring the loud cackle that comes out of Bucky.
Bucky asks about the car, surprised that Steve didn’t ask a driver to drive them to their destination and come pick them up when they’re done. Steve’s very cryptic, but apparently the car is part of the night, so he rented it. Bucky doesn’t push for anything more.
They talk briefly about Bucky’s family; his sister, Becca, who’s only a few years younger than Bucky, is somewhere in Florida with a husband and a child, in the dentistry field. Steve graduated before Becca arrived in high school, so they never officially met, but Steve remembered her from the few times she was at the school for an event or to accompany his parents when they picked him up. Speaking of, his parents were also doing okay; they still lived in their childhood house in New York, but they were currently spending six months in Romania, where their parents were from, including where they met.
Bucky asks about Steve’s family; he knows Steve only has a mother, his father having died when he was a kid, and he remembers Sarah becoming sick as Steve approached graduation, but he hadn’t gotten any other information after Steve started going to university.
“Less about me, more about you… how’s your mom?”
Bucky almost doesn’t notice the way Steve’s hand clenches around the steering wheel, or how he squirms uncomfortably, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Without even having to ask, he already knows he fucked up.
“Oh, Steve,” he says after a beat, regret in his voice. He reaches for the hand that Steve has on the console, and Steve squeezes it right back.
“It was a few years after graduation,” Steve sighs. “A cerebrovascular accident.”
“A stroke,” Bucky mumbles, understandingly. “Steve, I…” He wants to say he’s sorry, but he knows that’s not what Steve wants to hear; Sarah’s death isn’t anyone’s fault.
“I didn’t know her well, but she must’ve been an amazing woman. She raised a great son, that’s what I know.”
Steve doesn’t say anything, but Bucky can see many emotions pass through his face. Instead, he squeezes tighter on Bucky’s hand, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards.
“She was the best,” Steve finishes.
They don’t bring it up again, and they don’t say anything for the rest of the drive to their destination, but Bucky’s hand doesn’t move from Steve’s. Steve’s hand is in no rush to let go either.
+++
“Here we are,” Steve says, as they arrive at their location.
“We’re at a lookout point,” Bucky says. Steve nods.
“We are.”
“Okay. So… why’d you park backwards?”
“Close your eyes,” Steve grins, as Bucky finally lets go of Steve’s hand to place both hands over his eyes. Steve quickly gets out of the car, cutting around the corner to open the trunk, which was facing the gorgeous lookout point, before coming around to open Bucky’s door. He maneuvers him over to the trunk, before taking a few steps back and spreading his arms wide. Looking at it, it seems a bit cheesy, and might seem a little date-ish, which is kind of scaring Steve considering this isn’t officially a date, but it could be a date, but screw it. Hopefully Bucky just thinks it’s nice.
“Okay, open your eyes.”
Bucky blinks one eye open, before opening both. He gasps, lightly, his eyes switching between the trunk and the Sun setting by the horizon, leaving gorgeous orange, red and purple hues around the city of angels.
The trunk in question is fully decked out; there are the thick blankets and pillows Steve ripped off his bed on the floor of the trunk (getting that out of the hotel unnoticed was not an easy feat), he bought an assortment of snacks from the store, and he had his computer and a speaker there as well, if they decided to watch a movie. The light inside the car was on, as well as a few string lights in a jar that he found at the dollar store.
In hindsight, this might be just about the cheesiest thing he’s ever done, and seeing Bucky looking at it makes him want to almost tear it all apart, because this is literally a date, and what if Bucky’s upset, what if he thinks it’s too much, too fast, what if he wants to leave? Maybe he should’ve just told Bucky what he was doing. Maybe they should’ve agreed on a plan together.
Except, all his worrying is for naught, because Bucky grins, slowly approaching the car, running his hand across the thick blanket. “You did all this?”
“Is it too much?” Steve asks, almost immediately.
“No, it’s… I love it. It’s perfect.” He turns back to Steve, a huge smile on his face. “No paps, no people, just peace and quiet, it’s… wow.”
Steve grins, walking over to the trunk. “I was kind of hesitant to do this, but I’m glad I did.”
“I’m also glad you did,” Bucky comments, kicking off his shoes before getting in the car, leaning back against the pillows. Steve joins him, dragging the snacks and the computer towards them.
“You want to watch something?” Steve asks.
“Yeah, Captain America: The First Avenger,” Bucky grins, immediately earning a glare from Steve. Bucky laughs, a loud laugh that causes the laugh lines at the corner of his eyes to appear, his mouth open wide, a large smile on his face. Steve can’t tear his eyes away from the man.
“I’m kidding, Steve,” Bucky laughs. He clears his throat, before continuing. “No, it’s fine, just put some music or something, and then we can just chat.”
“Okay,” Steve nods, heading on Spotify to put on his usual playlist. With the music on, Steve reaches for the fruit plate, placing it between him and Bucky, handing him a toothpick. Bucky thanks him, reaching for the toothpick before immediately digging in.
“So,” Bucky starts, once they’re fully settled in, a piece of melon stuffed in his mouth. “How’d you find this place?”
Steve shrugs. “On my last tour here, I remember getting ridiculously overwhelmed, especially since it was a big movie, so I was quite nervous, and needed to get out somewhere for a while. I drove around aimlessly until I fell upon this place, and ever since I’ve been coming every time I’ve come to LA.”
“I don’t blame you,” Bucky sighs, looking out onto the city of LA, watching as the lights started to illuminate the streets as the Sun slowly disappeared. “It’s beautiful out here.”
They mostly snack on their food in a comfortable silence, just content listening to Joji coming out of the speakers as the sky dances with pink and orange hues. Steve thinks back to the moment where he almost didn’t text Bucky, letting Bucky go back to New York without reconnecting with him properly, and he could slap himself in the face. What a huge mistake he almost committed.
He asks Bucky about how he came up with the Hot Ones show, which actually turns out to be a pretty funny story, despite Bucky asking Steve to promise not to laugh. Steve just couldn’t help it; the fact that Bucky got his inspiration from mukbangs was one of the funniest things he had ever heard. Lucky for Bucky, that worked in his favour. Steve thinks that it wouldn’t have been successful had it been anybody else.
They discuss their high school days, reminiscing on how crazy their school used to be. It’s weird to talk about those days, considering the fact that they both remember events similarly, almost exactly the same, and yet they couldn’t have been further from friends at the time. Bucky seems to think their lack of friendship at the time was just unfortunate events, but Steve won’t ever be able to think that the clear difference in their social statuses kept them apart all those years.
“Do you ever think,” Bucky starts, pausing mid-sentence. “Do you ever think that if we were given a second chance at high school, we would’ve been closer friends than we were?”
A second chance? Steve doesn’t know. If a second chance meant Steve would return to his 90-pound, short self, he doesn’t know if it would’ve made much of a difference. Steve would’ve always felt that anxiety about his looks and how he was treated by some that he probably wouldn’t have ever had the confidence to open up to Bucky without being wary of an ulterior motive. In the end, that was the issue, wasn’t it? The friendship he could’ve had with Bucky all those years ago could’ve happened if he would’ve just let himself have something. If he wouldn’t have let his negative thoughts cloud his judgement, maybe he would’ve understood that Bucky had been trying his best to be his friend, not just protect him and keep an eye on him.
Not wanting to lie to Bucky, he doesn’t. “Honestly, no.” When Bucky’s face visibly drops, he hurries to continue. “I mean, that sounds horrible. It wouldn’t be your fault. I just…” He sighs, turning his gaze away from Bucky. “I know I’d push you away. I was dealing with a lot, when I was younger, a lot of insecurities, and fear, even though I looked like I wasn’t. I just don’t think I would ever recognize your actions as anything other than pity.”
“They weren’t pity, Steve,” Bucky replies. “As weird as it seems, I did care about you. I don’t know what it was, just this… invisible pull towards you.”
The revelation makes Steve turn towards Bucky, his mouth slightly open, and while Bucky won’t look back at him, he can see the red lightly staining his cheeks. Bucky sighs, before continuing. “Kinda sucks, huh? We could’ve definitely developed a better friendship a long time ago. Lost a lot of time, I’d say.”
Lost time. Lost time…
They had lost time. All those high school years, Bucky trailing after Steve every day, making sure he got home okay, talking endlessly just to fill the silence. They had wasted a lot of time; had Steve let himself bring his walls down to someone new, him and Bucky could’ve been closer much earlier than they were. Steve wasn’t even sure if he could say they were close now; their reconnection was only a matter of both of them being at the right place at the right time, but he couldn’t help but feel like this was meant to happen. Why else, after all these years, would they find each other, if not to fix the mistakes they made in their past?
Steve had him, now. All those feelings of insecurity, his hesitation of opening up to Bucky out of fear, not knowing Bucky’s motive, it was all gone, now. It wasn’t a fear, anymore, the only fear that remained was the fear that Bucky going back to New York and Steve returning to Boston after their short time together would bring them back to the state they were in prior to meeting again at that interview: knowing each other, but that being pretty much it. Steve couldn’t let that happen. Not for himself, in the moment, but for little Steve, for shy Steve, that wished for this moment, that regretted moments like these for years after leaving high school.
Young Steve told himself that Bucky would make it exactly where he needed to be; he manifested it. Young Steve wanted to be an actor, and he’s here, he’s successful. A single path diverging into two distinct ones, not necessarily meant to meet again, but under odd circumstances, the two paths join once more.
Will the paths diverge once more? Will they split off, with no chance of coming back together? If Steve lets Bucky go now, with an empty promise to keep in touch, who’s to know that would work out? Just setting up their interview had taken months. What would happen if they indefinitely returned home, with a simple “stay in touch” parting message? What happens to these moments, to the moments over a sticky bar, two hands wrapped around condensed glass, a light haze due to the influence of alcohol? To shaky hands reaching for a phone, hesitant to send a text, but knowing the changes it could lead to? To grins being shared over the light hum of the car engine, or silent breaths mixing with the sound of YEAH RIGHT blaring from the speakers, colors dancing in the sky? Those moments, what were they worth if they’re left forgotten?
Not again. Steve wasn’t letting it happen again. He may have let Bucky slip just barely through his fingertips before, but this time, this time, he wasn’t going to let that happen.
The “don’t go back to New York” slips out before Steve can catch it in his mouth, to form a better sentence that wasn’t laced with desperation and dread, but Bucky’s already looking back at him, eyes wide and shocked, and Steve can’t take any of them back. He can just push forward.
“What?”
“Don’t… Don’t go back to New York. Not yet.”
Bucky shakes his head, a thin line forming between his eyebrows, and Steve wants to wipe that look off his face, wants the lines to move to the corner of his eyes, wants to see Bucky’s teeth as he grins. He wants anything but the look Bucky’s giving him in that moment.
“Steve, I… My flight’s tomorrow.”
“Cancel it. Delay it, whatever. At least a week. The premiere’s next week. Wednesday. Stay until then, and then you can get your flight back to New York.”
Bucky shakes his head, his frown becoming more defined as he takes in what Steve’s saying. “I can’t just—my place. I only have it reserved for a certain amount of time, the owners come back tomorrow.”
“I’ll get you a room at my hotel,” Steve quips. “Please, I can… I can help out.”
“I’m not a charity case, Steve,” Bucky laughs, though it comes out quite bitter, and Steve almost wants to backtrack, doesn’t want to upset Bucky any further, but he keeps pushing. He has to keep pushing.
“I know you’re not,” Steve continues. “I’m not saying you are. I just… if you stayed, it would be because of me, and I would owe you. It wouldn’t be fair to make you pay for a hotel you weren’t planning on having.”
“Steve, I don’t know…”
“Listen,” he interrupts, placing a hesitant hand on Bucky’s knee. Bucky’s eyes don’t drop to his hand, so he leaves it there. “You were there for me, in high school. You didn’t have to, but you were, and you cared about me the way only a handful of people did, and I never… I never thanked you for it. I never expressed how much it meant to me, and yet that entire time, I never talked to you, never made conversation, never showed you how much I actually appreciated what you were doing for me. And now, if you, if you leave, I’ll…” Steve doesn’t know why he’s starting to get emotional, heat filling his face and the painful lump in his throat coming in full swing, but he pushes on, ignoring the strong emotions rising in his chest. “I just feel like this happened for a reason. You know? Us, reuniting again. You said it yourself, we lost a lot of time. Time that cannot be made up in one night. We need more time, Bucky.”
Bucky is looking back at him, and other than his wide eyes, his face isn’t giving anything away. Steve, at this point, can feel his heart pounding out of his chest, but he ignores it. He just needs an answer. If Bucky says no, he’ll understand. Bucky doesn’t owe him anything; he’s a friend, they met up because they conveniently had to both be in LA together, but Bucky doesn’t have to stay. The interview was all he came for, and he could leave, as scheduled, the next day.
That didn’t mean Steve wanted him to.
“Steve, I…”
“You asked me, given a second chance, if we would’ve been closer. We can’t go back in time, but we can better our future. This, it’s our second chance, it’s my second chance. I owe it to myself, but I also owe it to you. We need more time. Please.”
He’s sounding desperate, at this point, but he doesn’t care. He needs Bucky to understand how much he wants this, how much he wants to explore his friendship, and maybe, eventually, more, with Bucky.
Bucky isn’t looking at him when he answers, and when he opens his mouth, Steve’s stomach automatically drops, his anxiety skyrocketing to an unmeasurable level. It’s why he doesn’t process Bucky’s answer, and it’s why Bucky has to place a hand on his arm, shaking him out of his stupor.
“Steve,” Bucky exclaims, a grin slowly sliding on his face. “I said yes, dummy.”
He said yes?
“You said yes,” he breathes, relief filling his entire body, his hands moving to grab both of Bucky’s. “Yes, you’re staying. Yes?”
“I’ll stay until next week. On one condition,” Bucky says.
“Anything, I’ll do anything.”
“Two conditions, actually,” Bucky smirks. “One, I’ll pay my own hotel room, thank you. Second of all, you’re getting me tickets to the premiere.”
Steve scoffs. “Tickets? You’re coming as my date.”
Bucky’s cheeks start to redden once more, the color travelling down his neck, but he has the biggest grin on his face, and he doesn’t even seem to care. “Your date, huh? I like the sound of that.”
Steve grins, dropping Bucky’s hands to throw his arms around Bucky’s waist, dropping his head onto his shoulder. Bucky doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the hug, his arms tightening around Steve’s back and neck. Steve breathes deeply, letting his body and mind remember the smell, the feeling, the comfort, of Bucky’s hug, of Bucky’s touch. He doesn’t want to let go anytime soon.
Luckily, he doesn’t have to. They have all the time in the world.