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The only thing that's constant is that everything changes.
Except this, Steve thinks as he lies curled up, blankets kicked to the foot of the bed and sheets twisted around their waists. He's lying half on the bed, half on top of Bucky, arms curls around his waist in a way that should be uncomfortable but somehow isn't. His head is pillowed on Bucky's chest and no matter how many times he shifts, he keeps finding his way back there.
Earlier that night had found them at a charity event. Everyone had been so eager to meet the recently-returned war hero, and Sgt. James Barnes had put on a winning smile, and slid effortlessly across the floor in a perfectly tailored tuxedo to say all the right things to all the right people. He'd looked radiant, and he had had everyone convinced. Almost.
Steve had found him on the balcony a few hours later, hands shaking and sweat staining the light grey fabric. Steve had taken his hand, strong fingers curling around his wrist, and felt his pulse racing. He squeezed gently, and felt it begin to slow as Bucky closed his eyes and let Steve take him home.
It was hardly the first time.
He remembered too many cold nights when the two of them had pushed their cots together and shared blankets and body heat in a last ditch effort to put off what had seemed so inevitable all of those years ago. Bucky would always wrap him up in blankets, and pull him close with the excuse of sharing body heat. He'd fall asleep pressed against Bucky's muscular chest, his heartbeat in his ears lulling him to sleep like a lullaby.
He snaps back to fully awake as Bucky shifts under him, metal arm moving and curling around his waist to anchor him there. Except he's already found his anchor, already found the thing that holds him right there. The soft, steady rhythm of his best friend's heart is the best anchor in the world because it reminds him that he's really there , with him. Despite all of the odds, they've made it this far together.
"Steve?" Bucky says tiredly, and Steve blinks, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. Bucky's looking at him like he's the only thing in the world that matters, and he can't resist pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
"Go back to bed, Buck," he says gently, moving back down and resting his head over his heart. Bucky nods, hands sliding over him gently as he maps out his skin. He knows Steve by touch, just as Steve knows Bucky by heart.