Chapter Text
Steve stared at the display, paralyzed by choice. He tapped his fingers against his chin and let his gaze drift back to the first basket to start all over again. Roses would be traditional, but they didn’t feel right for what he wanted to do to. What he wanted to say. Plus they were pretty expensive. The white lilies were pretty, but they reminded him of a funeral. Then of course there were the less standard choices. Purple iris, yellow tulips, carnations of every shade and color. It made him want to paint.
Steve shook his head. Focus. He was here for a very specific reason. But the longer he stared, the more he started second guessing himself. Slowly his eyes drifted over to a single basket, and not for the first time. Red daisies stood boldly out against the pale tan wicker. Their petals were wild and a little ragged looking when compared to the velvety softness of lilies and roses. Their cores stood out like vibrant yellow suns, in defiance of the overcast of the day. As if proclaiming that if the sun would not shine, then they would gladly shoulder the burden.
It made him smile, ever so softly. Even as he gazed at them, his mind wandered. Years ago, when the chill of winter had finally broken along with the fever that came along with it, Bucky had taken him out for an adventure. They’d packed sandwiches and jar of jam into their knapsacks and taken off to explore. Along the train tracks, then taking off on their own through the tall grass and pricker bushes, they’d found themselves along the bank of a river. Away from the bustle of the city, it felt like they were the only people in the entire world. Like they had this little patch of wilderness all to themselves.
Bucky had laid out a blanket for them, and they’d spent the afternoon throwing rocks into the water, trying to catch bugs and frogs, talking about comics and wild adventures and eventually girls.
Steve had been the one to broach the subject. After all, the other boys at school had started to notice girls and it seemed like it was only natural that they should too. Though he hadn’t really understood the appeal, let alone the obsession and if he was being honest, he still didn’t to this day. On the few instances he had shown interest, that interest was quickly and efficiently snubbed. But back then, it was still new and confusing and a little exciting. He remembered how Bucky’s cheeks had started to get that high pink blush to them. The way he kept looking at Steve, longer and longer each time, as if Bucky was focused on his own secret topic he wasn’t ready to share just yet.
After their shared lunch, Steve had laid on his back and stared up at the passing clouds. The sky seemed so impossibly blue that day, and they picked out shapes in the bright white fluffballs. Unexpectedly, Bucky rose and wandered towards the overgrowth. At the time, Steve hadn’t thought anything of it. The day was pleasantly warm, the air was sweet, and the lap of the water on the rocks was making him feel relaxed and a little bit drowsy. When Buck came back, flopping into a cross-legged sit and barely missing landing right on top of him, Steve had looked up with familiar affection.
“I got a new game for us, Stevie,” Bucky had said cheerfully. There was something behind his back and Steve narrowed his eyes, fully expecting a frog or a minnow to be tossed at him any moment now.
“What’s that, Buck?” Steve had asked, cautiously.
“You’re a prince, Stevie. And I’m your valiant knight. And I’m gonna protect you forever.”
Even now, Steve felt the familiar surge of affection for Bucky. One that had only grown stronger from that day. “Forever’s a long time, Buck.” Steve had said, though he was smiling.
“Yeah, but together it won’t ever feel long enough. From cradle to grave. Til the end of the line.” Buck had said with such conviction, with such hopeless, doomed devotion that Steve had no inkling Bucky could possibly be wrong.
“Til the end of the line,” Steve had agreed. And how Bucky had beamed at that.
“Well if you’re gonna be a prince,” Bucky had said, with a self-satisfied coyness to his voice. “You gotta have a crown.” From behind his back, he drew a small circlet woven from wildflowers. Red blooms and blue forgetmetnots, speckled with pale white clover. The red flowers looked almost like daisies, their little petals forked at the tips, giving them a tattered and worn look. Perfectly imperfect. Just like Bucky saw him.
Bucky had leaned forward, resting the circlet against his blond crown and studied him with a softness Steve had never seen before. In the years since though, he’d grown familiar with that softness and warmth, that gaze that could smooth his sharp edges and warm even bone-deep chill.
“Ya know,” Bucky had said, scooting a little closer to him on the blanket. “If we’re gonna start takin’ girls out on dates and stuff, we should probably practice kissin’. Ya know. To make sure we’re doin’ it right.” Bucky’d said, looking at Steve through those thick black lashes. At the time, Steve couldn’t help but think of how Bucky always seemed to think of everything.
“You gonna buy something or you just going to gawk all day? I know they’re pretty, but you’re using up all the good smells, kid.”
Steve startled when the florist spoke, but he laughed and murmured out an apology. The man’s eyes glanced down at the bundle in his arms, a small box of the best chocolates he could afford, the newest Action Comics, and a small jar of the sweet lemon drops Bucky liked so much. “You got a date?” The florist asked, pleasantly enough.
Steve paused and nodded. “Something like that… I’ll take a dozen of those,” he said, nodding towards the red daisies and pulling out what was left of his coins. Taking the offered bundle, he drew a deep breath, and finished the journey home.
This time there were no dramatics trying to get into his apartment. He went to the correct door on the first try, the key slid into the lock and the tumbler turned as it was meant to. As he pushed it open, he was greeted with the smell of cooking food, and saw Bucky standing in the kitchen frying up potatoes for his breakfast, donning only his shorts and undershirt. Bucky’s hair was still standing out at wild angles, an unruly curl falling across his forehead.
“Is that for me?” Steve asked, pushing the door closed behind him and pulling off his shoes. Already his heart was slamming in his chest. This was it. In a few moments, he’d have to tell Bucky everything. And he hoped, he prayed that his suspicions, that what he’d been assured were correct. There was so much at stake here. So much that could go so very wrong. Steve could end up taking up Howard Stark’s offer to sleep on his couch. If this went wrong, his world would collapse around him. But if it didn’t…
But if it didn’t …
“If you want it,” Bucky offered, not looking up.
Steve nodded, slowly moving to their little table to set down and reorganize his purchases. “You… gonna ask me how church went?” He asked, glancing over at Bucky.
Bucky paused at the stove, still not looking over. Then he slowly started to push the potatoes around a little more aggressively. “...I could. How was church, Stevie?” Bucky asked, but his tone hinted he’d prefer the story be kept short.
“Well,” Steve said, carefully laying the comic on the table, holding the flowers with both hands. The chocolates and lemon drops suddenly felt like overkill. But it was too late now. “I talked to your parents. Had a real good conversation, actually. And… Buck. There’s somethin’ I wanna talk to you about.”
Bucky turned his head to glance at him, then did a double take when he noticed the flowers. Steve’s brows rose hopefully, but Bucky’s expression just darkened. “...You got a date there, Stevie?”
That wasn’t the expression Steve had been hoping for, and it made him falter. “Somethin’ like that. At least, that’s what I’m hoping, Buck.” Steve said over the tops of the flowers. He could smell their faint perfume drifting under his chin.
But Bucky’s jaw just set stubbornly and he dropped the wooden spoon into the pan with a clatter, glowering at Steve. “I’m sure Vera’s gonna be real happy.” He moved the pan off the heat and turned to stalk towards the bathroom, attempting to shove his hands into non-existent pockets, missing and instead going to cross his arms across his chest.
That wasn’t right. That wasn’t right at all. “What? Buck - Buck come back.” But the bathroom door was closing with a loud thump and Steve’s voice was an octave higher when he called after him again. “Buck!”
“I gotta take a leak, lemme alone Steve,” Bucky snapped through the door, uncharacteristically abrupt. Steve scoffed. They didn’t always close the bathroom door to relieve themselves, especially if doing so would disrupt their conversation. So why start now?
“James Buck, open this damn door. Why are you acting so foolish right now?”
“Foolish?? How is wanting to piss suddenly foolish?”
“That’s not what you’re doing, don’t lie to me, James . These walls are damn thin.”
“They ain’t that thin, I’m peein’ softly.”
Okay, enough was enough. Steve grabbed the knob and pushed it open. As expected, it bumped into Bucky’s back where he was hunched over the sink, glowering into the mirror. “You peein’ softly into the cabinet, Buck? Toilet’s about two feet to your left.”
Icy blue eyes met those of Steve’s reflection. Bucky’s face was as sour as Steve’d ever seen it. And that wasn’t what he’d wanted at all. That was not how this day was supposed to go. And Steve felt the tight fire of stubborn, righteous frustration rise in him. “
“Ya know, Buck, you gonna keep jumping to conclusions like this you’re gonna hop your way all the way to Connecticut,” Steve snapped right back.
Bucky stared at him through the mirror, but the comment broke something and some of the tension left his face. Slowly he turned around, leaning his hips back against the sink to stare at Steve. “...I’m jumping to conclusions, am I?” Bucky asked, tilting his head to one side, as if challenging Steve.
“Who the hell do you think these are for, you idiot?” Steve snapped. No, no this wasn’t going the way he’d envisioned it at all. The question caused Bucky to falter though, and Steve saw an abrupt uncertainty come across his features as he started to reconsider his initial reaction.
“...Vera?” Bucky asked, almost sheepishly.
“James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve said in exasperation. “What the hell am I gonna do with you?” He demanded.
“...Then who are they-”
“You, stupid!” Steve wasn’t sure if that reeling expression on Bucky’s face was from the insult or the information. Steve felt guilty. This wasn’t how he wanted it to go. This wasn’t at all how he wanted it to go, but here they were, Steve cornering Bucky in the bathroom, actively calling him out on his lack of authentic bathroom usage and very honestly considering beating the life out of him with a bouquet of daisies.
Bucky squinted as if trying to puzzle out what he was hearing. “They’re… For me?”
“Buck,” Steve gasped. “Buck. Last night when I was out with Stark -”
“Still don’t believe that actually happened, by the way.”
“Shut up and listen to me. Last night I realized something. I spend so much time worrying about gals and thinking about how I’m never gonna be good enough for them. So much time, so much energy, chasing after something I don’t even want , Buck. Chasing something that doesn’t want me. And for what? So I can… fit into the narrative of someone I don’t even know? Who doesn’t even know me?”
“Steve,” Bucky said softly, gently. “That ain’t true, lots of people want you-” Steve cut him off again.
“Buck, I need you to shut your beautiful mouth right this instant and just let me finish,” Steve snapped. He brought up his hand in a helpless gesture, then let it fall to his side. “If I don’t say it now, I’m never gonna say it. And I’m gonna hate myself the rest of my life.” Steve drew in a deep breath and let it out in a rush.
“Bucky… I’m sorry it took me so long to realize this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was so blind and I’m sorry I kept pushing my feelings down, pushing you away. I didn’t… think… that I was something someone like you could possibly want. I couldn’t even fathom that how every time I looked at you and my heart leapt into my throat… Maybe you were feelin’ the same way too.” Steve felt his eyes burn, but he refused to look away from Bucky. Beautiful Bucky with his shy, confused expression, blue eyes looking out from under his messy black locks. Sweet, tender Bucky, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at Steve as if expecting this all to go suddenly, abruptly south.
“Bucky… I love you. I love you and… And I know why you don’t go to church anymore.” Bucky looked away at that, but Steve pressed on. “I know what the preacher said and he was wrong. Your ma said he was wrong, your dad said he was wrong.” Icy eyes shot up to meet his again narrowing questioningly. “I love you, and love can’t be wrong… I can’t hide from that anymore. I can’t be blind to it. I can’t be ignorant to it. Because I love you and… and I hope you love me too.”
Now it was Steve’s turn to look away, his breath trembling in his throat as he clutched the bouquet of daisies before him like a shield. “I hope you love me too… And if you don’t - if you don’t, that’s okay too. But… But I -”
It was motion from the corner of Steve’s eye that caught his attention. Bucky was moving towards him suddenly, with such conviction and such intensity in his eyes that Steve startled. Bucky didn’t slow as their bodies connected, broad hands moving to Steve’s sides and pushing him backwards, flowers and all, to push him into the wall. Steve made a noise in his throat like a sound of protest, or maybe just surprise, but Bucky’s mouth was against him, swallowing every sound. Steve’s arms went around his shoulders, clutching the stems of the daisies as the red petals broke free and rained down on them.
Bucky broke the kiss, drawing back just enough to stare into Steve’s eyes, questioning him silently. In response, Steve pushed forward to kiss him again. Teeth clicked together, lips bruising and tingling, parting to allow fumbling tongues against each other. Steve drew back after a moment, gulping in breaths of air.
“I love you,” Steve panted. “I’ve loved you for so long and I don’t know why.”
It was Bucky’s turn to press against him, kissing him as if he made to devour his soul, take away every doubt, burn away every question with the force of his love. “I love you,” he breathed in response. “And I don’t care why.”
Steve’s hands tangled in Bucky’s hair, dizzy and drunk on these new revelations. “I bought you flowers,” he panted.
Bucky was smiling that bright smile that made his eyes light up like the moon in winter. “I see that now.”
“I also bought you chocolate,” Steve said, and Bucky chuckled softly. “...And lemon drops.”
The chuckled deepened, Bucky’s nose moving to nuzzle against his cheek. “You didn’t have to do that-”
“And a new comic book,” Steve’s words were cut off by the rough hand moving over his mouth delicately. Bucky smiled, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together.
“That’s very sweet… But all I want is you… All I’ve ever wanted… is you ,” Bucky said softly.
“Forever?” Steve whispered when the palm started to lower. He leaned forward, aching for just one more kiss. And one more. And one more after that. Bucky was more than happy to oblige.
“Forever… Til the end of the line, Stevie.”