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“How the hell have we ended up here?” Bucky asked quietly.
They were sitting on the verhanda outside the house King T’Challa had given them in Wakanda. The sun had gone down already and the air was quickly becoming shivery and silvery, the heat and the stickiness of earlier in the day slithering out of it to shimmer its way up into the sky to shine and sparkle. There were were quite possibly more stars visible from that one spot than from all of New York put together. It wasn't;t only stars they could see; there were swathes of colour that Bucky now knew was something to do with space, clouds of dust and gas and rock. Eighty, ninety, a hundred years ago Bucky hadn’t know there was colour in the night sky, let alone what the colour was made by.
Steve was quiet for a moment. “I don’t really want to think about it.” he admitted. They laughed coz it was the only other option to crying.
“Dance with me.” Bucky commanded, standing up and holding his hands out to Steve.
“I can’t dance.” Steve said flatly, putting down his book and looking up at Bucky with a smile. “Still got two left feet. Serum just made ‘em bigger instead of turning one the other way.”
Bucky folded his arms and gave Steve a stern look. “I've seen the fancy footwork you do in fights. You can dance.”
“I don’t know how to.” Steve protested.
“I’ll teach you.” Bucky encouraged and held his hands out again. “Come on. Don’t leave an old man hanging.”
“You used to dance so well.” Steve got up and took Bucky’s hands.
Bucky shot him a look of mock outrage. “Used to? I think you’ll find that I still dance very well, thank you very much.”
“I haven’t seen you dance this century; you really think that I'm just going to take your word for it?” Steve teased and bit back a smile at the look on Bucky’s face.
“Darling, you wanna see me dance the way I used to, you’re gonna need to ring up Nat so that she can come and dance with me.”
“Can you put up with me for now?”
“Been putting up with you since ’24. I think I can manage a few minutes longer.”
“I'm sorry I’m such a chore to you.” Steve said dryly as he put one hand on Bucky’s shoulder and took his other hand so they could begin to rock around the room, feet moving slowly in the most basic of steps, the only ones Steve had ever been able to master.
“You ain’t ever been anything even close to a chore to me.” Bucky murmured, pressing his forehead against Steve’s.
“Apart from the one time I was your mission.” Steve pointed out.
“Are you suggesting that I would leave a chore unfinished? Nu uh, Steve Rogers. I always did my chores. Still do. That mission was not a chore. It was a mission. And I think we can both agree that I failed spectacularly.”
Steve looked over Bucky’s shoulder to the land and the sky of the most beautiful country he had ever seen. “Given that it got us here, I think you succeeded spectacularly” he spun Bucky around.
“Sap.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”