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Bucky hated how rare moments like these had become. That they had to be out, risking their lives, just for some sort of quiet. Home wasn’t quite home anymore, and anytime they returned to a base camp, they were either sleeping, getting lectured, or planning their next raid. The past two years had been absolute hell, but hey, at least he wasn’t dead. That had to count for something, right?
He wasn’t really sure if he hated the days or the nights more. When they were attacking, or when they were waiting and praying they weren’t attacked. The whole thing was bullshit, but Bucky had promised he’d stay.
So he would.
Night had been a comfort, once. It used to serve as a time of relaxation, away from the responsibilities of the world that weighed down on his shoulders. Now? It just meant that they had survived to fight another day which wasn’t nearly as encouraging as it seemed.
He buried his hands into the pocket of his jacket, rolling his aching shoulder a little as he sat down beside Steve in front of the flickering light of the lantern. The others had settled down for the night, asleep in their tents. Steve had offered to take first watch, and Bucky decided to take the opportunity to talk while they could.
"I swear, when we get home, I'm gonna buy the biggest bed," Steve whispered, making sure they wouldn't be overheard. "King-sized, like the president would have."
Bucky felt himself smile, following Steve’s gaze to the lantern. “Yeah? Annd how do you plan on affordin’ that?”
Steve shrugged, shifting closer so their sides were lightly pressed together. “I dunno. I think they're making Captain America action figures. You think they'll give me some of the royalties?"
He snorted at that, grinning as his gaze drifted up to the sky above them. “Action figures?” He echoed, allowing his amusement to seep into his voice. “I damn well hope so.” God knew Steve deserved the money, after everything.
“Wonder if they’re makin’ Bucky Barnes action figures too.” Steve’s voice was teasing, his hand reaching up and gently massaging Bucky’s aching shoulder where his gun usually rested.
“God, I hope not.” Bucky leaned into the touch, allowing his smile to grow, running his tongue between his teeth as he looked down at the ground beneath him. He shook his head fondly. “I reckon only ‘the great Captain America’ gets that privilege.”
Steve seemed to slump at that, his expression turning somewhat bitter. “Well, we can reap the rewards together.” His voice remained soft, continuing his ministrations.
Bucky nodded and let the silence settle between them for a moment. In truth, neither of them knew if they would make it out of this shit alive. They’d survived so far, but there was never any guarantee. This was war, after all, and men were dying left and right. Who was to say they wouldn’t be next?
He felt Steve’s grip tighten on his shoulder, and he knew Steve was having similar thoughts. He could practically read it on his face anyway. He reached over and rested his hand gently against the other man’s leg, lightly pressing his thumb down and drawing a small circle. It was a small, subtle movement but it meant absolutely everything. Something to use when they couldn’t speak freely, when they had nothing else.
I love you, is what it meant.
It served as a comfort, a promise, and so much more that could never really be put into words. Steve returned the gesture against his shoulder, massaging a small circle against it.
I love you too.
“What is it?” Steve’s voice held a warmth that Bucky could never resist. It made him melt, his walls crumbling instantly at Steve’s soft gaze.
He sighed, gaze still on the floor, hating just how well Steve knew him. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
It was selfish, he knew. How could he ever wish this on Steve? He was supposed to keep him safe, not drag him along to fucking war. He should have known that Steve would find some way to follow, he’d always been a stubborn pain in his ass. He supposed he should be thankful, at least, that it was in the form of a soldier rather than a skinny asthmatic, coughing to death in the trenches. Not that he’d ever wanted Steve to be a soldier, or the stupid hero that America seemed to have made him.
He’d just wanted him to be safe.
That’s all he’d really ever wanted. Even back home, on the streets of Brooklyn, when Steve had gotten into fights that he couldn’t finish, coming home bleeding and bruised. Now it was so much worse. Yeah, Steve could somewhat hold his own now, but now they were going up against actual armies, people with guns that could disintegrate you. His stomach turned at the thought and he forced himself back to the present, refocusing on the light of the lantern.
He felt a light pressure against his side and glanced at Steve, who was gently leaning against him. His heart melted, something in him relaxing. Right. If nothing else, at least, right now they were here. Together.
That was all that really mattered, anyway. As long as they were together, they could face anything.
“You smell different. Feel different too.”
Bucky raised an amused eyebrow, turning his attention to Steve properly. “Different?” He echoed. “Ain’t like you’re the same as I left ya Steve.”
A dry laugh escaped Steve’s lips. “I ‘spose.”
As much as he hated it, Bucky knew exactly what Steve meant. This shit, it took a toll. They were both different men than they had been back in Brooklyn, inside and out. Though in Steve’s case, it was definitely more obvious.
He felt Steve’s body go limp against his and he couldn’t help but smile, seeing that he’d fallen asleep. Bucky didn’t move to wake him, knowing that the man he loved needed all the rest he could get, not buying the bullshit Steve spouted about ‘not being tired’ just because he’d gotten that stupid serum. He readjusted his position just enough to get comfortable, arm wrapped protectively around Steve.
The sound of scuffling nearby caused Bucky’s stomach to turn, but he relaxed when he saw Morita climb out from his tent. He didn’t say anything thankfully. He just gave Bucky a nod, which he returned, watching as Morita lit another lantern, grabbed a gun, and then disappeared into the darkness, probably just going for a piss or something.
Bucky sighed, only really settling when the sound of footsteps crunching against leaves faded. He rubbed his thumb against Steve’s arm, more as a comfort to himself than to the sleeping man, and turned his gaze to the sky.