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The bed creaked each time one of them shifted, and the sound of constant movement broke between the gaps of the hastily assembled tent. None of the tents were meant to be permanent; they’d never meant to be there this long, but the bed fit them both comfortably and neither complained. Bucky’s elbow was pressed sharply against his stomach, and Steve was pretty sure his foot had been digging into Bucky’s calf for the past hour, but when they'd been informed they were one tent short there hadn't even been a discussion.
“Are you still awake?”
“I am now,” Bucky hissed in response, attempting to move his arm, only to find himself further entangled in the mess of limbs attempting to share the camp bed. “You know, this was a lot easier when you were 5ft nothing and didn’t take up any room.”
Steve rolled his eyes, though he realised too late that it would have no effect in the near darkness, and settled instead for a swift kick which had Bucky grumbling under his breath. Another movement made the bed groan dangerously, and not willing to risk sleeping on the floor, Steve started to connect the freckles across Bucky’s shoulder in an attempt to stay as still as possible. After connecting twenty, Bucky’s breaths had evened out once more and Steve assumed he’d fallen back asleep. It’d been a long time since the two had been quite so close to each other, time and the constant threat of war making it difficult to continue the old patterns they’d forged out of years of friendship. It had also been a long time since Steve had seen his friend without a shirt on, and the freckles seemed as new then as they had all those years ago. He’d first assumed it had been a fit of self consciousness, though why it would befall upon Bucky of all people Steve couldn't imagine- but soon after his eighteenth birthday he’d refused to show his stomach to anyone, even his best friend. Naivety had faded and Steve had quickly worked out where his friend’s tattoo had appeared and that he clearly didn’t want to share it-which was fine. Of course it was fine, they had always shared everything but some things were bound to have to stay separate, which was why when Steve’s appeared curled near his heart he had promised himself that Bucky would never know what it said. He couldn't, especially when his didn't match.
He could remember it clearly, the streets splattered white after days of snowfall and the ground thick with ice. Before the serum, Steve’s clumsiness had been famous, and the ice did nothing to help matters as he'd slipped and skidded all over the place. Trying to make it back to his apartment in once piece at been hard enough, even before someone had barrelled into him from the side and sent him sprawling, grabbing at his coat just in time to stop him hitting the cold ground.
“Sorry kid, better watch your step.”
“Thanks man, sure would have been easier if you’d looked where you were going,” Bucky had simply laughed in response, grabbed his shoulder and decided it was in Steve’s best interest he walked him back so as to make sure he stayed out of trouble.
The words were neatly spelled out, just underneath his heart, in the same block capitals Bucky had used since high school. ‘Sorry kid, better watch your step’. Some people were given romantic love letters, sweet words that were straight out of romance novels, sentences which could make you believe in true love. Steve still preferred his. It had really been obvious from the beginning, and the words had only really been conformation of what he’d already known for years. He remembered asking, only a couple of days after it had appeared when he’d still been deliberating whether he should tell Bucky or let Bucky tell him first, whether he’d met his soul mate yet. The laugh and quick shake of the head had been enough. It wasn't a subject you lied about, not to your soulmate. So he’d stopped desperately trying to sneak a look underneath Bucky’s shirt to see what was written across his stomach, tried to stop looking over the breakfast table at him like he could do it every day for the rest of his life. Bucky was his friend, and for Bucky that was all he was ever meant to be.
Everyone had heard the stories, those who were incompatible. Most people thought it was just a myth, considering how rarely it happened, and even when it did happen it was never really spoken of. Steve had often wondered how it would feel to watch Bucky find them, watch him get married and start a life without him. Mostly he wondered if the pain would outweigh the joy of seeing his friend truly happy with the person they were destined for. After all the time he'd been given, he still didn’t have an answer.
It would be easy really, to just lean over his shoulder and search for the tattoo. At least then, when it happened he would be able to tell, would be able to see the exact moment when it would all fall away from him. But it’d be a breach of trust, one Bucky would be unlikely to forgive any time soon, and considering how close all of the commandos were it would bring nothing good to have the two of them fall out over something so trivial. In the end it would achieve anything; Bucky still wouldn’t be his.
Bucky’s elbow hit him harshly in the stomach, just above where his words were hidden beneath a thin vest.
“Shuddup, I can hear you thinking from all the way over here.”
“Sorry,” Steve mumbled, closing his eyes in an attempt to try and drift off to sleep. The tent was uncomfortably hot, which was why Bucky had pulled his shirt off in the first place, after strategically facing away from Steve and sleep seemed virtually impossible.
“You don’t have to apologise to me kid, just tell me what is bothering you.” Bucky shifted about on the small bed, trying to face him until a large creak suggested the whole thing would collapse.
“It’s not important, it’s just,” he paused, searching for the best words, “the whole soul mate thing.” He wasn't convinced he’d found the best words at all, but Bucky caught his thoughts anyway, as he always had.
“But I thought you and Miss Carter had, you know, sorted that?”
“What?” Steve struggled to sit up and Bucky shifted uncomfortably, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. Steve couldn’t see his expression, but he’d bet his bottom dollar there would be guilt there.
“Look, don’t get mad at me, it was an accident okay? I just, you were changing your shirt once and I honestly hadn’t meant to look and I’d only caught the first word- but she’s it, isn’t she? I mean, the first time you met, she said ‘Sorry, what was your name?” and with the way you two act I’d just assumed that-”
“We’re not matches Bucky.” At Steve’s words, something in him seemed to calm.
“Oh, but I thought because-”
“No. Not even slightly.”
“Do you,” Bucky paused, “do you know who it is?”
Steve considered lying, considered just evading the question and pretending he had fallen asleep, but the tension in Bucky’s back made him look like he was in physical pain and the thought that he was causing it was unbearable.
“Yes.”
Bucky said nothing, and for a moment Steve thought he’d just left the subject alone. Perhaps he knew, and was disgusted. Perhaps he’d lost interest, and had truly succumbed to sleep once more. After a few minutes though, he turned in his arms.
Even in the dark, it was possible to make out the frown on his face, the way his eyebrows had drawn together as he looked up at him. Steve couldn’t help himself as his eyes quickly scanned his stomach, but they found nothing and he blushed as he noticed Bucky had seen him.
“It’s on my hip. You know what it says.” He quickly moved to sit up beside him, the frown still etched across his features.
“I don’t actually, I always figured if you wanted me to know you would tell me.”
“God, you really have always been this noble haven’t you? I didn’t mean like that, I meant- okay I could be really wrong here. If I am- you have to tell me okay? Don’t spare me or any of that shit, I know you’re Captain America and Captain of morals and all that but just, don’t mess around with me on this. Just tell me. Does it say, on you, does it-”
“It’s you.”
He was met with a blank blink. It seemed easier to simply lift his shirt and let him see for himself, and yet still all he got in return was a blink.
“Buck? James? Now would be a good time for you to say something, if you wanted to because-” Steve didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before a finger was placed carefully against his lips. With his free hand, Buck carefully traced his own handwriting which lay bare across his chest, giving a small smile when he finished and replacing his finger with his mouth for a brief press of lips. It hardly even counted as a kiss it was so short, but it still managed to leave Steve wondering how he’d ever lasted a day without it before. With the hand which wasn’t resting against his cheek, Bucky led his hand down to his waist and let his fingers skim across the slightly raised skin, feeling the familiar pattern of the messy scrawl he’d always tried to improve. As he pulled away, Bucky laughed.
“Do you know how hard that is to hide? You decided to practically lecture me right there on the street, and whilst some people get a couple of words I got fourteen. Fourteen!” He would have continued ranting, Steve was sure, had he not cut him off with another kiss, but seeing the look on his face he couldn’t feel too guilty about it.
When he pulled away again, a slight frown had reappeared on his face. “So why didn’t you ever tell me? You must have known mine was you, if yours wasn’t Carter’s then why didn’t you mention it?”
“I thought, well I thought yours was someone else. You’re making me feel a stupid for thinking that now, but I mean think about it. Back then, I was a skinny asthmatic who picked fights with kids who would wipe the floor with me. I couldn’t even get enlisted and then there was you, my best friend who had, quite literally, knocked me off my feet. How was I meant to feel about that? Of course I didn’t think yours would be me.”
“Wow, how did your intelligence even work before the serum? Are you serious? That skinny kid was the best thing that ever happened to me, and though I’ll admit you’ve bulked out a bit since then you’re still the same man Steve Rodgers. And I’m with you, until the end of the line.”
“Until the end of the line”.
----
He’d tried desperately not to look at the words which he knew were still embedded next to his heart. Bucky Barnes was gone, and grasping to the hope that he remained was futile.
Yet still, when he’d repeated those words back to him, he thought for a second he’d seen him. The one who stayed up all night with him when the news of his father’s death had first reached him, the one who had wrapped his arms around him as he’d shaken with tears the first time it had registered that he had killed, the one who had his handwriting curled around his hip.
Thanks man, would have been easier if you’d looked where you were going.