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Exoneration and living out in the open, freely, without worries were completely polar opposite concepts. Tony knew this, T’Challa knew this, and sadly, both Bucky and Steve were aware of this as well. Technically Steve was still seen by the public as a war criminal and well, Bucky’s face still came up in the news as The Winter Soldier. Neither were picture boys for public safety.
All of this was spinning around in Steve’s mind as Bucky helped him unload the truck, a rental from Tony Stark as well as a cabin bought off the books. It wasn’t as if the two of them were wanted, but Stark, as well as Fury, decided it was a good idea for the two of them lay low for awhile. Plus, Steve thought if anything it would be good for Bucky. He was still recovering and more often not, he still woke up from nightmares that plagued him in the dead of night. Sleeping alongside Steve helped, but it didn’t stop them all together. He couldn’t count on one hand how many times he’d been thrown from their bed.
Steve had pitched this whole cabin idea to Bucky like it was nothing but a vacation, but the lightened look on Bucky’s face failed, his eyes going smoky and sad.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” he’d said with a scoff, “I know people are still afraid of me, still think I’ll fly off the handle even though T’Challa burned that shit out of my already fucked up brain.”
Steve had continued to argue with him, tell him he was fine and that it would take some time, but Bucky simply went quiet. He went about planning anyway, within a week they were driving up a narrow, long winding road to their temporary home. Stark always went big, never made anything simple or ordinary. It was a relatively large cabin, two bedrooms, two baths, a hot tub, an open wrap-around porch, that of course faced a beautiful frozen lake surrounded by trees. There was no snow on the ground yet, which surprised Steve, not that he knew that much about northern Washington State but it was cold enough he was expecting snow. Unfortunately they were met with green, only slightly deflating Steve’s enthusiasm.
They unloaded their belongings, Stark had assured them that it was a fully stocked cabin, and of course Steve could go into town if needed, incognito of course. But he was assured that for at least a month they had enough supplied in the freezer to last them a year.
“Buck, don’t look so glum, huh? This place is beautiful,” Steve said, as Bucky, with a still solemn face surveyed the interior of the cabin, “I think we’re both due for a little R and R, don’t you think?”
Bucky gave a half shrug, “Maybe, don’t know, still feel weird.”
“Well don’t,” Steve forced a smile, forcing it only because he knew what Bucky was feeling. Or at least he thought he knew. He dropped both bags to the large couch and moved to put his arms around his boyfriend, “Let’s make the best of this. Tony isn’t exactly stickin’ us in a hovel? Right? This is five star.”
That garnered him the smallest of smiles, “I guess not, no.”
Steve carefully pulled him forward to face him, hands resting on both arms, metal and flesh before cupping his face, “I’m gonna get that beautiful fireplace going and I want you to sit your ass down and relax. We can unpack later.” he leaned forward kissing Bucky’s lips, slow and sweet, “I’ll check out the fridge and see what I can cook up.”
“Stevie, you don’t have to do that, I can help, I ain’t useless.”
Steve frowned, “Wasn’t saying you were. Sit your ass down,” he said again with a grin.
Bucky was holding back a smile, that was clear as day. Steve gave him a gentle shove and he did as told, butt hitting the plush couch. He crossed his arms and leaned his head back with a big sigh.
Steve knew the last few weeks had been exhausting for Bucky, it was showing now, no matter how much Bucky denied it. It was like fighting tooth and nail to get him to rest, but out here? He really didn’t have much choice.
He hurriedly started the fire, eyes cutting every now and again to his friend who had finally given in and fallen asleep. He stoked the fire until it dressed the room in a warm hue of orange and gold. The sun was setting low in the west, only adding to the comfortable ambiance of the atmosphere, it seemed to dance off the lake, sending tendrils of light through the bay windows from the porch.
He moved around the living room in silence, only the sounds of Bucky’s soft, sleepy breaths filling the space. He searched around in the huge fridge and found ground beef, in the cupboards he found everything he needed to make spaghetti and meatballs. A childhood favorite of Bucky’s. He was fully aware that he was grinning the whole time of his discovery of spices. He was going to do everything in his power to make this experience relaxing and hopefully make Bucky feel safe in a way he hadn’t in decades.
Remembering s recipe of his ma’s he formed the meat balls and browned them up before adding the sauce. Every now and again he’d glance towards the living room, he was sure the smell of food would wake Bucky up, but so far, to no avail. Once he got everything plated, he was shocked that he would actually have to go wake him up.
Bucky was beautiful, there was no questioning there in Steve’s opinion, despite Bucky’s objections. In the glow of the fireplace, he was even more so, no wrinkling of his brow, no bent eyebrows, or frowning mouth. He’d slumped sideways and had hugged one of the side pillows to his chest, still breathing in that deep asleep way.
Steve was always careful waking Bucky, it was a hit and miss if he would startle him, so he started with his name. Soft but firm, he brushed the back of his knuckles to Bucky’s flesh hand, “Buck, honey, you wanna wake up?”
Bucky groaned, turning his face into the pillow, “S’wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve got dinner on the table and you haven’t eaten since this morning,” Steve urged further, sitting on the edge of the couch and with just the tips of his fingers, brushed the hair away from Bucky’s face. Thankfully Bucky only rolled onto his back.
“I woulda helped with that,” he said, eyes not even open yet.
“Yeah, well I think you needed the nap,” Steve smiled, bending at the waist and kissing his cheek, “I made your favorite.”
That finally made Bucky open his eyes, “Oh, yeah?”
“Yup, it’s ma’s recipe, could never forget that, come on,” he stood up and reached out both hands of which Bucky took and Steve hoisted him to his feet.
“You still remember that?”
“Of course I do,” Steve answered, only the tiniest bits of pain eking through with the memory of his lost mother, “I also remember how much you loved it whenever she made it. Always made a point to invite you over, even made garlic bread.”
“You’re too good to me baby doll,” Bucky grinned in that sleepy, dopey way he was wont to do, leaning into Steve’s space and placing a kiss to the nape of his neck.
Steve only laughed softly, wrapping one arm around his waist and tugging him towards the kitchen.
Bucky was then looking out onto the porch, “Hell sweetheart, when did it get dark? How long I been asleep?”
Steve was physically leading him to a chair at the dinner table and placing a plate in front of him, “Only a couple hours, relax,” he assured, pressing lips to the top of his head.
The two of them ate in relative silence, but Steve was happy that Bucky ate with fervor, so much so he was reaching across the table and thumbing sauce away from his mouth. It was the most he’d seen him eat yet, more than he’d seen in the last 12 weeks, “Good?” he asked.
And Steve thought his heart would burst when Bucky smiled and replied with a simple, “Good.”
Steve knew Bucky was exhausted, this was even more prevalent when even after a long two hour nap the night before, Bucky had crashed out once more in the King sized bed they were sharing. However, he didn’t take advantage of the space. He’d shimmied over and across the cotton sheets and latched to Steve’s side. It reminded Steve of the good ole days, when Steve was tiny, and needing warmth. He did the exact same thing. Bucky would joke back then that if Steve could crawl up inside of Bucky he would. Now, the tables had turned, it made Steve feel useful but then sad in the same breath. He never let on that it did, only held Bucky close, kissing his forehead and running fingertips through his hair.
“How about we take a walk?” Steve broke the silence of the crackling fire, it was a particularly grey day and Bucky had been pretty solemn.
“Is that wise?” Bucky looked up from the book he was reading, “Thought we were supposed to be undercover.”
“Bucky,” Steve sighed, sitting on the ottoman next to Bucky’s feet, “Tony said no one is out here. He even told me, ‘feel free to walk around’. I think the fresh air would do you good, hell, it would do me some good. Netflix only goes so far, even if I do have decades of catching up to do in the entertainment department.”
Bucky screwed his lips into a pout, “I don’t know….”
“Come on Bucky, please?”
Then Bucky was rolling his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, there it is, that face.”
“What face?” Steve groused.
“The face you always pulled on me when you wanted something and you knew you’d win with it every time.”
Steve couldn’t help it, he stuck his tongue out, “Then don’t fight it.”
Bucky scoffed loudly once more, placed the bookmark amongst the pages and they both dressed to brace against the cold.
Latching up the last two buttons of his coat, Bucky slapped Steve on the ass, “Get your ass in gear, ya punk. Gonna be dark soon.”
Steve only laughed and tied the laces of his boots tight, “Who took fifteen minutes to get ready huh?”
The scenery was beautiful, even Bucky could not deny that fact. The cabin was sidled against a mountain side, providing even more of a secluded feeling. A blessed cut off from the world they’d both known for years and years. Violence, violation, control, blood, and loss. He realized that Bucky saw this as well, he could tell the way Bucky’s shoulders suddenly lost all tension. He laced their fingers the best he could with the gloves they were wearing. It was even more perfect when Bucky, unhooked their fingers, and wrapped an arm around his waist and held him close.
It was rare when Bucky initiated contact, it was something Steve had just come to accept, and he was never given a clear explanation as to why. Steve figured out pretty quick that if he moved too fast it was a dangerous thing, too firm of a hand had Bucky folding in on himself. He figured that the only touch Bucky had known had hurt, been a reason to use him. But not here, not now, and certainly not with Steve. He thought surely his heart would burst with this small action of acceptance, that they were safe to freely be affectionate with one another.
With that thought Bucky was speaking, “How nice would this have been back in the day huh?”
Steve inhaled deeply, the scent of pine and cold and Bucky all around him, “What do you mean?”
Bucky squeezed him tighter, “I mean back when you and I were just startin’ out. When we had to hide all this. How nice would’ve been to take you out on a real date. Not havin’ to pretend with a couple gals between us.” Bucky halted their walk along the brown and overgrown path, “Cause you know I woulda done that right? If it hadn’t been so dangerous, I woulda paraded you around town…my best fella. My only fella.”
Steve’s eyes fell closed when Bucky’s palm was to his cheek, “I know that Buck, you know I know that. It was just…what we had to do to survive. I never took it personally.”
“Never went home with any of those gals. Just so you know.”
Steve halted any more words by pressed a gloved hand to his lips, cupping his chin and drawing him close. There was something indeed exhilarating about kissing Bucky out in the open, no fears to worry about, no paranoia of someone seeing, “I never doubted you, not for a second. You always came home to me. Still came home to me, even now.”
Bucky pursed his lips firmly, no doubt hiding emotion there as his chin quivered, “Always come home to you sweetheart,” he brought his other hand into the equation and cradled Steve’s face, kissing him sweet and long. He suckled his bottom lip and Steve whimpered low and hushed against his mouth.
Neither man even noticed that the snow began to fall, heavy flakes falling and clinging to their eyelashes and hair. Bucky placed one firmer kiss to Steve’s panting mouth and pulled away, “Told you it was cold out, enough to snow huh? You cold baby doll?”
Steve felt breathless, but so incredibly happy and he was nodding, “Yeah, pretty cold out here. But this, this is beautiful.” he looked straight up into the sky, Bucky mirrored his action and for a few, tranquil moments they were silent.
“Well, let’s get you warm then,” Bucky near whispered against the shell of his ear, never separating them more than a couple inches as they trekked back to the cabin.
They exchanged gentle, innocent kisses the 15 minute walk home and the snow only got heavier. Thick, sopping flakes of snow that easily soaked into their coats and pants. By the time they got back to the cabin both were near soaked and Steve was shivering.
“H-How are you n-not chattering your t-teeth like an idiot?” Steve huffed gruffly.
Bucky gave a shrug, “Use to low temperatures I guess, come on, ya big baby.”
Steve’s stomach dropped, “B-Buck I didn’t mean a-anything by that.” he continued to tremble without control.
Bucky shook his head fervently, hanging his parka on the hook in the hallway. Without skipping a beat he turned to the fireplace and added two chunks of wood, embers flying up the neck of the large chimney like lost fireflies, “Stop it, I know that, come over here before you break your teeth off.”
If he wasn’t smiling in that highly amused way, Steve would have fought harder, but then his boyfriend was moving forward. Without asking he began shedding his clothes, first the coat, and then his boots and snow pants, leaving him in his damp t-shirt and blue-jeans.
“Sit down Stevie,” Bucky scolded half-heartedly, “Damn this fireplace is huge, don’t even really need to run the furnace. I’ll get some blankets.”
He returned from the bedroom, several blankets in hand along with two sets of pajamas, he set them aside and continued to undress Steve, one article at a time.
“I’d say it was more like a rain-snow, shouldn’t have walked so far out,” and as he said this he peeled his own damp shirt up and over his head and tossed it to the wood floor, “Come on Steve, arms up.”
Steve wanted to argue, that he was a grown man and could do this himself, but Bucky’s fingertips to his flesh felt too damn good. And as weird as it sounded, Bucky had his ‘on a mission’ voice and who was he to argue? It had been a long time since Steve had been taken care of. Bucky dressed him like he used to when they were kids, when he was too weak to lift a hand, sick with this or that.
Teeth still chatting loudly, Bucky draped the blanket around the both of them and tugged Steve easily into his lap. All the while he was rubbing his flesh hand up and down Steve’s legs and arms. He settled on one foot, urging warmth into his toes, and then the other, by the time he was done, coupled with the strong heat from the fireplace, Steve’s cheeks were near rosy.
Bucky was smiling in a way Steve hadn’t seen yet, not since his return, “That’s what I wanna see. Pink cheeks,” he kissed him first on one cheek and then briefly on both lips.
Steve slumped against Bucky’s chest, never feeling safer as he did in this very moment. With the overwhelming onslaught of cold and then the welcoming encompassment of warmth, Steve was tired. Exhausted all the way down to his bones.
“Baby, you okay?”
Steve felt silly that tears were burning his eyes, but he nodded anyway, “Just…” he began, “This feels good, feels good, that’s all.”
“Isn’t gonna go away, you know that right?” Bucky supplied when Steve stayed silent.
Once more Steve nodded, nuzzling against the crook of Bucky’s neck.
“I get it,” Bucky murmured softly, “I get it.”
They both stayed silent, for minutes, an hour, neither really knew. The crackling of the fire acting like a balm against both their fractured souls. Steve felt that they were finally mending, for the first time since he came out of the ice, he was home.
“How about,” Bucky pressed his lips into Steve’s messy and spiked hair, “We have some doctored cocoa and watch some sappy Christmas movie. You ever seen White Christmas?”
Steve’s chest swelled and felt far too stuffed, “Y-Yeah, I’d like that. Never seen it.”
“I’m on good authority that Peppermint schnapps is cocoas best friend,” Bucky winked, slipping a finger below his chin, raising just enough to deliver a kiss.
And that’s where they ended up, mounds of blankets adorning the enormous couch, in front of the fire still fed by pine. The room was warm, low lit and Steve could barely keep his eyes open. It had nothing to do with the cocoa, given that his metabolism ate it up as soon as it hit his bloodstream. What did it was Bucky’s strong arms around him, cocooning him close and safe to his chest, ever so often peppering kisses against his forehead and lips. How the man had managed to turn the tables on him he didn’t know.
“You’re thinkin’ again,” Bucky mumbled, sounding half asleep himself, “Anything bad?”
“No,” Steve answered quickly, turning away from the TV, locking an arm around his waist and burying his face in the space between his shoulder and throat.
“Stevie,” Bucky near whispered.
“Yeah?”
“You were right,” he sighed, holding Steve closer, if that were even possible, “This was better than I thought it would be. Didn’t realize how much I needed this.”
Steve smiled, pressing his cheek again to Bucky’s shoulder, rubbing circles into the other man’s exposed hip, “I did too.”
“Go to sleep,” lips were once more pressed to the crown of his head, the flickering of the television lighting the room just enough to dance alongside with the flames of the fireplace. The wind howled outside the cabin, the snow fell heavy and exact upon the roof, and Steve had never been happier.