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A sense of serenity swiftly settles deep into Steve’s bones, the water lapping at his feet as it bubbles and reaches the shore. This spot, this moment, is quite possibly his favourite thing ever; a moment he wants to capture in photos or videos that he knows won’t quite hold the sensation he feels right now, but at least they’ll remind him. His eyes fall shut, and all he can hear, save for the splashes and chatter of other visitors, is the ocean.
He’s glad he took this vacation from S.H.I.E.L.D. It might have taken a hefty bite out of his wallet, but there’s nothing that can compare to this. Even though he’s starting to feel homesick for Brooklyn after two weeks in Hawaii, Steve can’t think of any place he would rather be in his entire life than here at the tranquil shores of Kua Bay.
“You know you’ll get sand all up in your ass if you keep sitting there,” someone says over his shoulder. Steve peers up to see Bucky staring out across the ocean, his long hair tied back in a ponytail, though some stray hairs are being tossed around by the wind. He’s got his hands tucked into his shorts pockets, and Steve is suddenly infinitely more grateful he took this time off with him.
The trip has eased the visible tension that always settled between Bucky’s shoulders, and Bucky has begun to walk around with Steve without giving sharp glances at every passer-by, and without assessing every new setting they step into beyond what is necessary. He’s stopped going rigid at sudden unfamiliar sounds, and instead has been calm enough to drag Steve out to see the sunset from the beach every night (not that Steve had protested even once).
Steve hopes that Bucky feels what he feels sitting on the warm, fine sand. He hopes he feels that overwhelming sense of awe that almost makes Steve’s eyes blur from the prickling heat behind his eyes; that Bucky can look out and see the clean cut horizon that is claimed so wholly by the amorphous water, terrifying him in the most exhilarating way knowing that there’s nothing for miles except this.
He prays Bucky is eased enough to take these moments for what they are and, by the way that Bucky hardly ever talks as they watch the sun drop below the horizon, Steve thinks, knows, that maybe he is.
“It’s worth it,” Steve replies after some time, looking away from Bucky (Bucky, who’s back, and with Steve, and even though he’s not who he was before he’s still Bucky) and back to the sun. It’s just as bright. Everyone says you shouldn’t look at the sun directly, but it’s hard to look anywhere else when it’s so low, about to disappear and leave the sky scattered with the most breath-taking golden glow.
Bucky takes a step forward so that the water rushes over his feet, and Steve smiles subconsciously.
“You won’t say that when we’re in the car and you’re trying a million different ways to get that shit out.”
“Maybe not,” Steve admits, scrunching his nose at the thought. He can kind of feel the sand being swept into his shorts at every pull of the tide, but he doesn’t mind. The sensation is too soothing. “You should join me.”
Bucky scoffs. “I’m not that dumb.”
Steve stays quiet for some time, letting Bucky’s words tumble in his mind until he can picture the smile that delivered the retort without once having to look up to see if his imagination caught it right. He knows he got it right without confirmation, because he always does with Bucky. Always has.
“Here, pick me up then,” Steve says, reaching his left hand up for Bucky to take. Bucky’s too relaxed to notice what Steve is doing before it’s too late, and suddenly his ass is plunked down onto the sand beside Steve.
“Shouldn’t let my guard down,” Bucky grumbles grumpily, but he doesn’t let it keep him from smiling sheepishly when Steve nudges him.
They stay like that, the sun sinking as the minutes pass by, not a word more between them. When the bottom of the sun kisses the crisp line of the ocean, Bucky lets out an almost inaudible breath. Steve only hears is because he’s made himself to be fine-tuned to Bucky; to hear, to feel, to know him better than anyone and anything else.
The current is a little strong on one short wave, shifting them in the sand until their legs are almost touching. The wave ebbs with a soft bubbling that makes Bucky sigh and shut his eyes.
“Told you it was good,” Steve whispers, taking a moment to memorize the way Bucky looks basking in the last moments of the day, his eyelashes catching the rays and casting a shadow beneath his eyes. Steve’s chest feels lighter each night he sees Bucky like this. He’s sad though, because the trip is coming to an end, and in a few nights he won’t have this anymore. But he casts the thought aside and turns back to the sight before him.
Steve’s heart rate picks up in a way it hasn’t done since before he got the super soldier serum when he feels something other than the sand flowing between his fingers. He looks down to see Bucky’s hand covering his own, and a moment later Bucky rests his head on Steve’s shoulder.
For this sunset there is no one else in the world but them.
The minutes take forever, but slip by too fast all the same. Steve wants to grab onto them and force them to slow down, let him savour this. But the world doesn’t slow down for anyone, not even for the man out of time.
When the sun finally sets, the arrangement of oranges, yellows, blues, purples, and pinks draining away to leave behind that surreal gold afterglow, Bucky turns his lips against Steve’s skin and murmurs, “Я тебя люблю.” Just as quickly as he spoke, Bucky stands up and makes his way back to their belongings and starts packing them up.
Steve’s breath is caught in his throat, because he knows those words. He’s searched them up and learnt them and kept them in the back of his mind since the day Bucky came back. And Bucky just –
Any other time he would be frozen to the spot, but right now he knows he can’t just sit there. He stumbles to his feet, nothing like the kind of grace Captain America supposedly wields, and rushes over to Bucky. Bucky meets Steve’s eyes like he didn’t say the words he just said.
It’s only when Steve says his name, searching his face frantically for any sign of emotion and clearly freaking out, that Bucky seizes up. No way Steve understood him.
“Bucky,” Steve repeats pleadingly. There’s a moment of silence, but not of hesitation, before Steve finally replies, “Я тоже тебя люблю.”
Bucky blinks and clenches his jaw to keep his composure; to keep from doing something stupid like shutting Steve out again.
Steve takes a tentative step closer, and Bucky doesn’t move.
The beach is clearing out now that the sun has gone down, and the handful of people that were at the secluded spot have dwindled down to a single family on the opposite end to where Steve and Bucky are stood.
Steve closes his hand around Bucky’s right wrist, leaving Bucky’s left arm purposely free in case Bucky decides for whatever reason that he wants out of this.
His voice is shaky when he repeats the sentence a second time, making sure Bucky knows.
Even though he doesn’t really know where this will end, Steve would have – best-case scenario – expected a kiss over the way Bucky wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and holds him tightly, like if he lets go he might lose this.
Steve returns the embrace and breathes slowly in contrast to his racing pulse.
By the time they break apart, the family has left and the darkness of the night is quickly encroaching on them. Bucky slips his left hand into Steve’s right once they’ve picked everything up and lets Steve lead him to the car.
When they’re back in the confines of their room after having showered, Bucky is eerily silent and too distant for Steve’s liking. Eventually he gets sick of it and comes up behind Bucky in the bathroom. Bucky looks up and meets his gaze in the mirror for a second before his eyes flit away again.
“Buck,” Steve says softly. Bucky clenches his eyes shut and lets out a sigh, turning around to face Steve. When he opens his eyes, Steve takes it like a blow to the gut at how exhausted Bucky looks.
Really, he doesn’t know what else to do but bring his hand up to the back of Bucky’s neck and step closer, leaving an inch of space between them. He’s willing to let Bucky decide.
The silence makes Steve nervous, and the serenity that flooded his lungs at the bay is long lost. Or at least it feels that way, right up until Bucky closes the gap and presses his lips to Steve’s.
It’s slow, it’s sweet, and when Steve kisses back a little more demandingly, Bucky responds with an ardent nip at Steve’s lower lip. Steve gasps, and just like that he knows the taste of Bucky’s mouth.
It’s intoxicating, and Steve gets lightheaded and he knows he’s going to get in over himself, so he breaks the kiss.
“I never want to watch another sunset without you,” Steve mutters, though he had meant for it to be more of a thought than spoken aloud. He doesn’t mind his slip up though, not with the way Bucky smiles sincerely at the confession.
“Do you think we could get away with another week, Stevie?” Bucky asks.
“Probably not,” Steve admits regretfully. “Wouldn’t hurt to try though.”
Steve knows he’s said the right thing when Bucky lets loose a dorky grin that he can’t contain.
“Took us long enough. We deserve it.”
Yeah, Steve thinks, leaning in to kiss the words off of Bucky’s lips, Bucky’s right.