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It all started with Steve watching Clint's newborn twins – who'd been sleeping peacefully in the care unit amidst other babies – from behind the window, in complete awe.
Bucky finally managed to haul himself out of the uncomfortable hospital chair and reluctantly got to his feet; he knew it was time for Steve and him to have The Talk, with capital Ts.
Bucky knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. With them hitting their 30s (Steve was 35, he was 36) and retiring from the Avengers, and all their friends getting married and having kids, of course Steve would dream about the same domestic bliss. He had every right to.
The only problem was that Steve lived with a semi-stable, grumpy old man with a lot of baggage.
He was always aware that he'd been stealing Steve's time. It took him months to let Steve sleep next to him because back then, whenever he felt a breath hovering over his neck, his hands would itch to grab a knife. (He didn't have his knives anymore, he gave them to the Smithsonian not long after they retired.) He'd been stealing the time Steve was supposed to be spending with the love of his life, who would be as perfect as he was, and who would gladly fulfill Steve's dreams of being a father.
Lost in thought, Bucky didn't realize his boyfriend had approached him until he was only a few inches away. Steve tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear with one hand and slowly placed the other on the brunet's waist.
"Hey," Steve said in a low voice. "What's wrong, doll? Bad day?"
Bucky shook his head. It was a wonderful day, they became guncles -gay uncles as Clint referred to them- for what, the seventh time now? First Tony and Pepper had Peter and Morgan, then the next thing Bucky knew Steve was the only one in the team who didn't have any offspring no matter how much he wanted one, but then Steve was also the only one who was unfortunate enough to have shacked up with a neurotic ex-assassin.
"You sure, Buck? You haven't spoken to anyone all day, I thought maybe you were just tired, but now you don't even look me in the eye."
"Not my fault you're blindingly beautiful." Bucky murmured. After all, that wasn't a lie.
"Bucky..." Steve's I-know-you're-deflecting-now-spill tone reminded Bucky to stop stalling and get on with it.
"Look, Steve..." His voice cracked. Damn, he'd only just started talking. Still not meeting Steve's eyes, Bucky took a deep breath and soldiered on. "I know how much you wanna be a dad, and god knows you're gonna be an amazing one but I just—I can't. I'm not ready and it kills me that I don't even know if I'll ever be ready, I don't wanna stand between you and your dreams of having a big family and I just want you to know I understand if you wish to leave before it's too late, start over with someone else, someone who shares those dre—"
"Hey, hey, hey." Steve cut him off, cupped his face and forced Bucky to look at him. He was frowning but his expression was soft, his voice even softer. "No, Bucky," he said, firmly. "Never. I only want kids if those kids are gonna be ours." Steve pulled Bucky in impossibly closer, large hands making delicate, soothing movements on the small of Bucky's back.
"You're my starting point, Buck. The day I started livin' again ain't the day I was defrosted, it's the day I fell into the Potomac. The day you recognized me, the day you knew you were my Bucky. I was drownin' and you were a breath of fresh air. That's when I started livin' again and there's no other start for me sweetheart, no do-over, nothin'."
"Steve..." Bucky whimpered, burying his face in Steve's neck. God, he loved this man so fucking much. This wasn't just about them having a kid and Steve knew it, so he kept talking reassuringly.
"It's you and me, baby, to the end of the line. That line is full of mines waitin' to be stepped on? So be it. As long as you're holdin' my hand, goin' through hell is a walk in the park for me."