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“Do you ever feel like you’re losing something you don’t deserve?”
Bucky blinked back against the bite of the wind. The question caught him off guard.
Why would Steve ask such a thing, he wondered as they both looked over the cliff, waiting for a train heavy with more than just freight.
“All the time,” he swallowed, glad that the emotion welling in his eyes would be indistinguishable from the constant watering of his eyes from the cold and exhaustion.
Steven Rogers flirted with death. From getting beaten to a bloody pulp in alleyways to sickness, Bucky had no idea how he hadn't lost him yet. There was many close calls that he had almost lost him, but Bucky guessed with this new body of Steve’s he didn’t have to worry about fights and illness anymore. Just had to worry about bullets and bombs and whatever else danger his punk ass wanted to throw himself into.
The thing is though, which Bucky finds himself laughing to himself a lot about, is that he can’t even be mad at Steve for all the stupid shit he does. Sure, he gets pissed that Steve puts himself in danger all the time because he wants him to be safe. But, Steve is just too good. He’s a good man, with a good heart and Bucky was damned from the start. How was he not supposed to fall in love with a person like Steve?
He’d be lost without him. But who was Bucky to have him?
“Me too,” Steve said, watching as he startled Bucky from where he was staring a little too intently at the drop below.
Their eyes met, saying more than they dared to ever speak as confirmation that the train was near came through.
“Ready,” Steve asked, eyes lingering on the cyanosis of Bucky’s lips before quickly looking at the ground. He’d do anything to kiss them back to pink like he so badly wanted to.
“As I’ll ever be,” Bucky mumbled, missing the warmth of Steve’s gaze already.